#donghyuck x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonicandjins · 11 months

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frequent flyers | lee donghyuck

CHARACTERS: haechan | lee donghyuck x fem reader

WORD COUNT: 13k

GENRE: angst, fluff, smut (non-linear) | best friends to strangers

AUTHOR'S NOTE: read with caution. this is written in a non-linear form, so you don't know when it's going to hurt ;) this is a dh x reader version of my markhyuck fic from ao3, but with a different ending

frequent flyers is the third installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: skin glowing under the dainty string lines and lined up lanterns hanging from the high ceilings, lips curled up to genuine smile instead of the usual teasing smirk plastered on his mouth, cheeks tainted in berry red—a single manifestation of the glasses of wine he’s had tonight, eyes round and sincere and everything you’ve ever known.

Zhong Chenle’s mellifluous voice echoes in the banquet, singing to the tune of lover as the newly weds take their first dance (third song in) in the middle of the floor, surrounded by couples and lovers swaying. From your peripheral view, you catch a glimpse of Park Jisung sneaking his phone out and recording the whole thing—after Chenle clearly mentioned no one else aside from the newlyweds’ assigned videographer is allowed to film him.

On other days, you’d love to listen to Chenle’s golden voice, and he knows this because from all the years you’ve known him, you’d supported his career and you’d spend many hours sitting in his studio, listening to him record, or sitting somewhere halfway across the world, watching him write his songs. I can listen to him sing all day, you’d say, but as the night jumps deeper into its darkness, you realize how excruciatingly long his 15-minute medley went by.

You look across the room.

Donghyuck looks enthralling like this: beautiful even after all these years, charming like he’s the day he turned 21, grown, earnest, and at ease. It’s agonizing to look at from where you sit across the room—hands wrapped around her waist, eyes closing as he leans in, drunk, drunk, drunk like the night you’d left him, heart void of you.

You begin to count.

At 27, you’re pretty much done with all kinds of romance the world could offer.

Unlike the person sitting next to you, you prefer to listen to Blushing Youth than watch some high-rated romantic comedy film during your 12-hour flight from Heathrow to Incheon, and while you’ve been moving around for most of your life (having earned your nickname as frequent flyer, credits to Jisung), flying is not one of the things you’re fond of. In fact, it’s not in the long list of strengths you brag about in your LinkedIn bio. You reckon it would truly be embarrassing, to say the least, to ask a stranger to distract you from the sound of the aircraft’s engine running at full power as it takes off from the runway, hence you opt to blast Ahn Jiyoung’s voice right in your eardrums.

It’s odd, people would say, for someone who’s supposedly mastered the art of moving from one country to another to be so terrified of flights, but if people want you to be completely honest, nothing sounds more horrifying than the thought of seeing Lee Donghyuck after years of radio silence.

As pathetic as it sounds, your heart still skips a beat—three, sometimes—at the thought of him.

Donghyuck, who used to be your sun, who had you orbiting around his gravitational pull for years, who used to be so close but not enough to have, who—if you think about it now—might have never been the center of your solar system after all, but maybe just a shooting star passing by.

The plane takes off, roughly and loud like you’d expected, and you catch a glimpse of a scene from Love, Rosie from the person sitting beside you and immediately regret going coach instead of flying business like how you would if your flights last more than ten hours. You hate this film; you hate it because Alex is to Rosie, like how Donghyuck is to you.

Alex and Rosie, like you and Donghyuck, are—were—long-time best friends who used to be inseparable until one day they’re not. Rosie misses her chance. Alex stops yearning, hoping, waiting, and finally decides to get on with his life. It’s a story of a bunch of tangled webs—a messy tumbleweed of missed calls and delayed flights, of long nights and short days, of forgotten promises and faded hope.

The film introduces new people, bids goodbye to old chapters, but in the end it’s Alex and Rosie.

And you wish that’s how your story went. You don’t end up kissing him in your very own hotel with an awe-striking view of the horizon right outside the window.

You bury the thought before you start missing him again. You run out of tracks from Blushing Youth’s discography like how you run dry from thinking about what happens next when your plane lands.

Might as well sleep it off.

A sharp, jabbing pain on your left leg wakes you up from your unscheduled sleep. Hissing, you find Donghyuck sitting on top of your legs.

“I swear to God,” you breathe, kicking your best friend’s weight off your limbs. “I will freaking kill you.”

“Dude, what’s wrong with saying fuck? You’re literally twenty,” Donghyuck replies, moving further so his entire body crushes yours, and you have to pretend that his warmth doesn’t make you feel some type of way, hence you push him as hard as you can until he falls onto the carpeted floor of your room.

He falls with a thump. “Screw you,” he mumbles, mouth forming a pout that you’d gladly smack out of his face—except you’d do it with your very own lips. “It’s almost one in the afternoon. Why are you napping?”

“Good question, Donghyuck,” you start, sitting up and rubbing your eyes while looking for the pair of specs that Donghyuck is already shoving towards your direction; you gladly take it. “Unlike you, I had to work in the café until one in the morning. I hate being rostered in the closing shift, but it pays damn well. Plus, I forgot to do my laundry so I had to throw my clothes in before I slept.

“Overworking again, I see,” he muses, sighing as he scoots to sit cross-legged across you on the bed too tiny for two people.

“The last week of the semester always sucks balls,” you answer, tilting your head in attempts to stretch your stiffened neck and get some kind of relief. “Why are you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be out there doing something stupid with Na Jaemin?”

“There’s a music festival on Friday,” he starts right away. “Jaemin’s wondering if I’d be interested to go, says he could get us some free passes from the guy he’s hooking up with. Apparently, the guy is DJ-ing.”

You blink. “Which one? Lee Jeno? Or Yoon Sanha?” you ask, genuinely curious because Jaemin is Jaemin and he could never be caught exclusively hooking up with one person.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Does it matter? Is it a yes or a no? That’s the question.”

He begins to fiddle with his fingers, playing with the rings on his long, delicate digits, and you recognize it almost instantly. Donghyuck is nervous. You might have an idea why.

“Is this you finally asking me out, Lee Donghyuck?” you half-joke, scratching your head. Donghyuck looks anywhere but your face. A glimpse of his eyes is all you need, because if the eyes are the windows to one’s soul, then Donghyuck’s are wide open, with no curtains and bare from all layers—at least that’s how they are to you. His eyes are wavering, and though he’s mastered the ability to keep his face tough as steel, those orbs could only do so little when it comes to hiding from you.

So, you smile, reaching out and leaning closer, kneeling until you’re face to face with him. “Only kidding, Hyuck,” you say finally, taking it easy because this conversation is not for one who’s hazy from sleep and one who can’t even look at the other in the eyes. “Of course, I’ll come with you. Who else can you bring anyway?”

Donghyuck looks up, rolling his eyes; he’s back. “You’re not really irreplaceable,” he replies smugly. “Don’t think too highly of yourself.”

You poke your tongue out and reach over your night stand to check your phone; at the same time, Donghyuck starts biting his fingernails. You don’t think twice—like blinking, a habit, natural—and reach out to pull his hand away, mumbling about how he should start working on getting rid of this bad habit of his. Donghyuck’s hand is warmer compared to yours, and he lets out a whine, complaining about your freezing hands, but squeezes you hand back anyway.

You are content with this. You hope Donghyuck is, too.

The lingering touches. The stolen kisses. The piercing glances.

While they all seem fleeting and simple, they mean the most to you. You begin to think if Donghyuck feels the same as he pulls you closer until you’re both back lying on his bed, your cheek resting on top of Donghyuck’s warm, cloth-covered chest. You wonder if he means it, when he says you’re not irreplaceable and that maybe you’re a little too comfortable, a little too satisfied with whatever it is that you have.

On a drunken night, Donghyuck may have asked you once. You remember it and think about it so much that sometimes it felt like a dream.

“How long, Y/N,” he had asked, his voice an octave deeper than usual, gaze a shade darker. “How long until you let yourself just lose it? For once, just—just please, let your feelings consume you.”

You didn’t want to—not then, not now—because it’s going to hurt.

It’s going to hurt because it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Donghyuck who feels like home, whose hands are warm enough for your cold ones, your own little sun. Losing him is the extinction of your solar system.

“Y/N,” he had whined when you didn’t reply, shaking you, pleading. “When are you going to want for more? I want you to ask me for more.”

But Donghyuck had passed out before you had the chance to think of an answer—time frame—and you wonder what your answer would have been if Donghyuck stayed awake for a couple more minutes.

“I guess napping at this time of the day doesn’t sound too bad,” Donghyuck murmurs against your hair, kissing it before relaxing. “Set an alarm for me. 3 pm.”

You hope Donghyuck asks you again, not this time, but you hope the question lingers in his mind a little longer.

He falls asleep to the sound of your breathing.

When the person sitting next to you finally wakes up, you could only sigh in relief.

The aircraft has landed a few minutes ago, and your flight seatmate slept so soundly that it took you a couple of minutes to shake her awake.

The 12-hour flight is a pain in the ass, and you wish you mean that figuratively. Waiting was something that you were once good at, and Renjun often told you he wished he had half the patience you had. If you think about it now and reflect whether you’re as patient and as willing to wait as before, you’d changed vastly. Ridiculous, how one could change so much in a lifetime.

Huang Renjun is standing behind a barricade when you finally reach the arrival area after going through immigration. He’s holding a piece of paper that says WELCOME HOME, Y/N! Renjun doesn’t give you the time to cross the boundary because he attacks you in bone-crushing hug the second he’s allowed to. You almost topple over him, your glasses at risk of either falling out of your face and into the cold, hard ground, or being crushed between your nose and Renjun’s shoulder.

Renjun chants your nickname over and over again, swaying both your bodies left and right as though you weighed nothing. “I’m literally about to combust. My chest has been pounding since I arrived here. You have no idea how much I missed you, and you were taking forever to go through immigration.”

“Oh, Huang Renjun,” you sigh, inhaling his scent and returning the hug. “Some things never change. You’re still the sweetest when you miss people. Absence really makes the heart grow fond.”

Renjun pulls away to get a good look on you. “Y/N, you’re all grown up. I can’t believe you resisted not seeing me in person for four years.”

“You’re just as grown up as I am,” you reply. “We Facetime each other every other day. What are you talking about?”

“It’s never the same,” he mumbles and helps you with your luggage despite it only being one small luggage, a small duffel bag, and your small backpack. He starts nagging as soon as he notices how small your baggage is.

“You were away for literally four years and you think packing three old shirts and a pair of jeans will be enough to get you through your entire trip here?” Renjun gasps. “You’re stupid if you think Chenle and Jisung are allowing you to leave after what we’re all here for. They have an entire month planned out the second you agreed to come home.”

“I didn’t bring only three shirts, for your information. And I did bring a few pairs of trousers and a coat, plus my dress for the wedding,” you defend. “And I can’t extend my trip here. I thought we’ve all got that one settled.”

Renjun laughs, as if what you said is some kind of joke, as he leads you towards the exit of the airport. “You know we would 100%, without hesitation, burn your passport if it means we could make you stay longer, don’t you? I hope you don’t underestimate us like that.”

You chuckle at his empty threat, your chest swelling at the thought of your long-time friends being thrilled of your arrival in Seoul. You wonder how much has changed in the last four years, and you reckon nothing much has when it comes to your friends. You’d left when most of you were twenty-three, and the only person you’d ever seen in person since then was Chenle, who at that time, had business in London so he stayed where you lived instead of a luxurious hotel he could afford.

“We’re heading to Chenle’s place,” Renjun announces as soon as you sit comfortably in the passenger seat of his car. “But he’s still in his studio recording something, so he won’t be around until maybe five.”

“Why are we going to Chenle’s place if he’s not there yet?” you ask. “He didn’t tell me he had work.”

“We’ve all worked around our schedules to meet you today,” Renjun explains as he turns the ignition on and starts backing up. “And everyone knows his home’s passcode. Remember back in college when his stupid fancy condo eventually became everyone’s? That’s still how it is now. Only this time, he owns a penthouse in Gangnam’s most expensive building. What a spoiled brat.”

“He earned it,” you comment.

Renjun hums. An old track from the local radio station plays just as the vehicle exits the airport’s parking area. You hadn’t heard this song in years, but your mouth sings the lyrics as though it’s only been yesterday.

Renjun is amused. “Some things never really change.”

Donghyuck suddenly changes his hair color on Sophomore year in college. You, on the other hand, are about to have an aneurysm.

Na Jaemin makes fun of you, laughs as if your reaction is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen his entire life. He deems it as the best day of his life.

“Jaemin, am I a fucking joke to you?” you ask. Jaemin doesn’t even bother to answer. “You think this is funny?”

You almost choke on nothing when Donghyuck decides to walk towards the table you’re sharing with Jaemin inside the university’s very own cafeteria. He’s holding a tray of food for lunch. The man himself has a shy smile on his face, evidently aware of the attention that the people around are giving him because of his newly-dyed pink hair, and you can’t really blame anyone if they stared a little longer.

Because Donghyuck is already beautiful, with his shining eyes and glowing skin and a smile that could make the earth stop orbiting around the sun.

But this Donghyuck, Pink Sun as Jaemin had started calling him, he’s something else. You might pass out if you look at him a little longer.

“I told you pink looks amazing on you!” Jaemin exclaims as soon as Donghyuck is close enough.

Donghyuck instantly blushes, but covers it up with a smug smirk across his mouth.

“Careful,” Donghyuck warns. “I don’t want you getting hurt if I reject you.”

Jaemin gasps, “You would never!”

Donghyuck playfully sticks out his tongue on Jaemin and finally, finally, turns towards you. Your breath is caught in a hitch. Donghyuck tilts his head slightly and you’re about to punch himself in the face.

“What do you think?” the man asks, smiling cheekily. “Do you think I look better blond or pink-haired?”

You swallow. It takes you great power not to pull Donghyuck and kiss him squarely on the mouth.

Blond Donghyuck was a menace in the society. Pink Sun is giving you a heart attack.

But you’re not about to make things too obvious, so you shrug and mutter a small “either is fine.” Jaemin kicks you under the table. Donghyuck sighs, taking out his phone to open its front camera, probably to check himself out as he brushes his fingertips in his hair.

“You’re cheap, Y/N,” he says, putting his phone down. “I basically burn my scalp to get this hair color and pull it off better than Lee Taeyong ever will, and all I get from you is, ‘either is fine.’”

Jaemin laughs hysterically, taking his phone out as Donghyuck takes the empty seat beside you—like always, because seats beside you are always reserved for him. Donghyuck carefully places the tray of food he got, immediately, your eyes catch the extra drink he has and your heart somersaults because you know it’s for you.

And this is supposed to be normal. Your friends tell you it’s a routine—every day—and you and him do things for each other like second nature. So, why does it make your heart race like this?

Your phone chimes as Donghyuck starts eating.

“We really need to work on your communication skills,” the text message from Jaemin says.

Your comprehension in Korean went from bad to worse, if it’s even possible.

Renjun is currently roasting you for it, while Jisung and Kim Minjeong are arguing about what to eat. You tell them how small the Asian community in London is as compared to other countries. Jaemin announces that Mark Lee just boarded his flight from Vancouver, too, and you cheer, excited to see him as well after all these years. Yoo Jimin calls out Jisung and Minjeong’s bullshit and says she’d already ordered from the nearest restaurant.

How you all end up in Chenle’s penthouse before the owner himself is aware, you have no idea. All you know is that things have not really changed that much.

You feel a little disoriented, your mind still a little hazy from the 12-hour trip, and you hate that the jetlag is hitting you as early as now. You feel like you could fall asleep anytime soon.

Then you hear familiar voices faintly coming from the door, then the door itself being unlocked. You observe from the digital clock above Chenle’s fancy television that it’s only nearly two in the afternoon, so it’s not Chenle who’s coming in.

Donghyuck appears from the door before you realize it, and he takes your breath away before you could even look him in the eyes.

“Sorry, we’re late,” the dark-haired man says, his voice making you feel suffocated, stepping out of his boots because God forbid anyone who steps inside Zhong Chenle’s penthouse wearing the outdoor shoes.

Lee Jeno enters behind him, his eye smile ready to meet you, while Jaemin says they arrived just in time for lunch. All is a blur and everything sounds like white noise, because Donghyuck looks at you in the eyes with the softest gaze, the smallest smile, and suddenly it doesn’t feel so cold in Seoul.

Jeno walks past him and finds his space beside Jaemin. You hear Renjun and Jisung start arguing about another thing. All while Donghyuck stays still from where he stands, about ten feet away from your space, eyes still on you.

When they’re done dancing, Donghyuck walks with her, holding her hand and keeping her close.

He passes by, doesn’t even take a glance to your direction.

Donghyuck looks at you in amusement.

“It was terrible,” you grunt. “The worst day of my life.”

He giggles and pulls you in his arms, kissing the top of your head while you stand in the middle of the room. You’re still dressed in your warm clothes as you’d just arrived from the airport. You sigh in relief because you’ve been waiting for this all weekend.

“Don’t be too dramatic,” he mumbles. “Your cousin’s going to be ballistic if he learns that you called his wedding the worst day of your life.”

“You should’ve gone there with me,” you muse. “They were introducing me to so many people, and my uncle knows I’m shit at socializing, therefore forcing me to hang out with people I barely know is like stabbing me in the eye and asking me how many fingers you’re holding up.”

Donghyuck chuckles. “What could I have done if I were there?”

You smile, burying your face in his warm chest. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why’d you need me there?” Donghyuck asks again. You know he’s teasing you now, poking until he gets the answer he wants to hear. And you’re not about to deny Donghyuck of that. Besides, nothing is more satisfying than knowing you could make Donghyuck feel flustered despite of his strong, wild persona. So, you reach up and kiss him on the chin and hug him closer.

“Because nothing is as bad as it seems when you’re around, my love.”

Donghyuck begins to pull away, making you hold onto him tighter, as if your hands would grow cold without touching him. Donghyuck only laughs, allowing you to hug him longer, and you wonder if you could stretch this night out for as long as he can.

The moment passes by quickly.

“Donghyuck, will you at least listen to me?”

“I’m done, Y/N.”

Renjun announces he’s done cleaning up.

Jaemin doesn’t waste a single second, getting up from his space on the other couch and announces it’s time they really catch up with everyone. It turns out that Jimin herself just got back from Germany yesterday as well, while Minjeong took a week off from work, and all had waited for you to come home before gathering in Chenle’s place.

“Mark’s a piece of shit, just like you,” Jeno comments when asked why the older didn’t take the earliest flight. Apparently, like yourself, Mark couldn’t get a couple of weeks off from work, hence he’d decided to travel a few days before the wedding, which is essentially why you all had a reason to gather once again after all these years.

“Why are you all harassing me and Mark for not being able to take a longer leave from work?” you whine, throwing a cushion towards where Jeno is seated, right beside Jimin. “It’s not like we can help it!”

Minjeong snorts, “You could’ve said you have COVID or something.”

You snicker. “Only you could think of that, Minjeong-ah.”

Jeno talks about his recent flight to Yonagunijima in Okinawa for a business trip. Renjun tells him he’s never gone that far in Japan, his farthest trip being in Osaka; Jeno says he can take him there anytime he gets some free time from work. Jaemin hypes up Jisung’s newly built dance studio and the contract he’d just signed with the biggest entertainment company in Asia, to which Jisung only downplays and says it’s not that big of deal.

You and Donghyuck stay quiet while everyone else talks over one another. He sits at the other end of the same couch you’re sitting on while Jisung occupies the space between you and him. Renjun probably feels the tension, so he cuts it.

“Donghyuck, what have you been up to?” Renjun asks, reaching over for a piece of chocolate you’d stolen from Chenle’s fridge.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Renjun-ah, don’t act like we don’t see each other every weekend.”

Renjun scoffs. “We’re here to catch up. Do you want me to tell them what you’ve been up to myself?”

Donghyuck throws a cushion and misses. “Nothing’s new about me, guys. Nothing that’s interesting enough.” Then, he leans forward and turns to you. “Maybe Y/N has anything to say. I mean, she’s the one who’s been away the longest.”

It takes you aback, the interaction unexpected, and gets you stuttering. “I’m—There’s really nothing, I mean.”

Donghyuck laughs lightly. “Loosen up. You look like you’d rather be elsewhere but here.”

“It’s not like that,” you defend. “It’s just—jetlag.”

“Of course,” Donghyuck nods. “How long was the flight?”

“Twelve hours,” you answer. Renjun does his best, distracting everyone else with a new conversation so you and Donghyuck, you assume, would feel more comfortable rather than have everyone listen to you talking with the person you used to know the best. Jisung tries to subtly leave, pretending like he needs to go to the restroom, and you know it’s a tactic because you also know Jisung like the back of your hand.

Donghyuck immediately moves closer, taking the space Jisung used to sit on, the distance pulling the air out of your lungs.

“And my flight was delayed for a couple of hours because of a storm,” you continue, clearing your voice. “So, fourteen hours in total, plus one hour from Incheon to Gangnam.”

Donghyuck nods. “Well, you fly frequently.”

You nod back. “Not that frequently anymore. Since the pandemic, I’ve been working from home a lot; there was no need to travel after all. Or move to a different country. It turns out we can do everything virtually.”

Donghyuck chuckles, almost sarcastically. “What a shame that the entire world realized suddenly that everything could work virtually.”

You smile, sadly almost. “Yeah. What a shame.”

“I didn’t get the whole thing,” Jisung sighs. “What a shame. The last parts were the best.”

“You know Chenle’s going to kill you if he finds out you took a video, right?”

Jisung nods proudly. “That was the point.”

“Lia, wait,” Donghyuck’s voice echoes—not loud enough to catch anyone else’s attention, but definitely enough for you. You watch him follow Lia out.

You decide you’ve had enough. The wedding’s done now, anyway. There’s nothing left for you here.

Jisung looks at you. “Y/N.”

“Just need some space, Jisung,” you say. “I’m okay.”

“You’re lying,” You gasp, almost dropping your iPad upon Donghyuck’s revelation. “Holy shit, Donghyuck, that’s huge!”

“Never thought I’d hear that in another context but thanks, my love,” Donghyuck replies, a proud smile etched on his mouth. He reaches over and shows you a piece of paper, the confirmation of his participation in a convention in Shanghai a couple of weeks from now.

“Wait until Jaemin hears this,” You ramble, already on his phone to text said friend about the good news. “He’s going to throw a party for you.”

“You guys are too proud of me,” Donghyuck whines. “What if I end up being such a flop outside my comfort zone? There are going to be so many amazing artists out there. I heard some vocal majors from Konkuk are attending the conference with me, and I am already terrified of them. I can't imagine myself once I'm surrounded by even more talented and more intimidating singers."

You put down your tablet on your desk, sighing as you step closer towards Donghyuck. You’re in the apartment you share with Jimin, and Donghyuck called in earlier to tell you he’s got some great news. Neither of you really have much time to meet these days, with your internship at Seoul's biggest web developer company and the drastic changes in Donghyuck's schedule, it's a little too difficult to hang out in the safety of your apartment.

Donghyuck is evidently taken aback when you suddenly wrap an arm around his neck, tumbling when you pull him closer and kisses the air out of his lungs. You regret closing your eyes when your lips touch, thinking about the way Donghyuck looks like whenever you kiss him like this. Like Donghyuck's all you’ve ever needed. Like all the years of pining and hurting are expressed in a single kiss. Like it's everything you’ve always wanted and more.

It's not the first time you kiss—you’ve lost count you made out in the back of Jeno’s car two months ago while all your friends are drunk and out of their minds—but it always feels like it is.

Donghyuck's lips are soft, soft, soft, and you can never get enough of the kissing him. The first, featherlight, a little hesitant touch of your lips would be your second favorite part (the favorite is when Donghyuck's licking your mouth and nibbles on your lower lip), and his hands, his delicate hands would always be in your hair, pulling and pressing and touching.

It's perfect. Donghyuck pulls you down with him on your very own bed, letting you sit on his lap.

He's kissing you everywhere, your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your neck, your jaw, but he stops when you begin to unbutton his shirt. You look down on him, confused and eager and dazed, and usually, Donghyuck would give in without a single fight, but this time he stops you.

"What are we doing, Y/N?" Donghyuck lets out, like he's been holding this breath forever and now he's finally exhaling it.

"We're," you start, confused why he’s asking all of a sudden, but you don’t really have an answer to that. "We're—”

"Messing around. Having fun while we can," Donghyuck finishes, quoting your own words the first time you hooked up. "I know. But that was before, right? What about now? What are we doing now?"

Your hands drop on Donghyuck's side. Donghyuck quickly takes both of them in his, giving you a comforting squeeze, as if he's encouraging you to say something. To be brave. To let go.

"We can't go on like this if you don't answer me, Y/N," Donghyuck says softly. "I know what I want, and you know that it's you. Just you. From the beginning. As long as I live. And you are making me happy right now. But I need to know if this is what you want, too."

"Love, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want you," you explain, eyes wavering.

"Y/N, listen to me," Donghyuck urges, letting go of one of your hands to hold your face so you could look into each other's eyes. "Tell me now. Tell me now, honestly, if this is something you would want in the long run."

"Donghyuck," You sigh, like you’re begging for Donghyuck to stop asking. But Donghyuck doesn't let his guard down. He keeps his hands on you, waiting.

You want nobody else but Donghyuck, too. From the beginning. For as long as you live. And Donghyuck is making you happy, and you know well that Donghyuck will make you happy in the long run. The last two months of whatever game you’re playing had been fun. There was no agreement on being exclusive, no rules of some sort, and it all fell into place like you and him are supposed to end up like this. You hadn’t put a label on it, but you and Donghyuck are best friends for many years now. You went through growing pains together, survived each one of the flights you frequently took around the world, went to the same college together, and you don’t really see the point of rushing for a label now.

Because you have other things in mind other than what you feel right now. You have codes to master and board directors to impress. Donghyuck has auditions to pass and flights to catch as well, and now, an opportunity in Shanghai. Not to mention you’re both cramming to have the best credentials to get you the best job after graduation. Now is not really the best time.

So, just like many happenstances in your life, you come up with a stupid, stupid answer.

"I—I don't know, Donghyuck," you say nervously. "I mean, you're clearly making me happy. And I don't plan on seeing anyone else, but I haven't really gotten around to think about it."

Donghyuck takes his touch away all of a sudden. You reach out to hold his hands in place back to your face, but he lets go.

"Think about it?" Donghyuck asks, voice shaking. "What is there to think about? It's a simple question, Y/N. Do you want me for a long time or am I just some good fuck for you?"

"Donghyuck, why are you saying that?" you retort, angry now. "I just said you make me happy. And I'm not playing with you. I just—it's—with all the things going on in my life and yours, a relationship is not something I can maintain right now."

"Maintain?" Donghyuck chuckles, pulling his hands away, gently pushing you off his lap and standing away from your bed to put some space between you and him. "Y/N, we've been best friends since we were in high school. Literally nothing has changed for us except we kiss and fuck now. What is there to think about? I really do not understand."

You sigh. The sound of it makes Donghyuck pull away further until he’s picking up his backpack.

"Donghyuck, wait," You say, but Donghyuck is already out of his room, barefoot, his shoes in his hands.

Barefoot, his shoes in one hand, two bottles of beer on the other, Donghyuck finds you by the pool outside the wedding reception. He sits beside you and mimics the way you rolled the bottom of your dress up to your thighs so it doesn’t get wet and does the same with his expensive trousers.

“What are you doing out here?” you muse, eyes staring blankly at the way your feet look blurred out underwater. “Shouldn’t you be inside getting drunk and having the time of your life?”

Donghyuck chuckles, his cheeks painted like cherries, mouth glazed like strawberries, and hands you the cold bottle of beer. “I’m already drunk. Do you think I’d have the courage to come find you here if I was sober?”

You nod, taking the bottle from his hand. “Good point. Fun party?”

“Jaemin and Jeno never fail to organize the best party,” he stammers. “They used to invite everyone in their shared apartment to play the American games they learned from Johnny-hyung. I can’t believe they’re married now.”

Jaemin and Jeno, the very reason why all of you gathered after all these years, have always been destined for each other, and you know this because you’d seen them start off as nothing and watched them turn to everything. Their wedding had been the sole reason why you’d returned to Seoul.

“I always knew they’d end up together,” you mutter, drinking from the cold bottle. “I used to manifest it. I said it all the time I saw them together.”

Donghyuck giggles. “You used to believe in the law of attraction so much. You manifested everything that’s happened in your life.”

“I did, didn’t I?” you reply, tasting the bitterness coming from the drink, a reminder why you prefer any other drink aside from beer.

It’s quite for a minute until Donghyuck talks.

“Why didn’t you manifest us?” he says suddenly, words a little grumbled. He’s probably had too much to drink already. You hold onto him naturally as his head starts swaying until his head is leaning against your shoulder, close enough to hear each other breathing. “Y/N, why did you never say we’d end up together like this, too? You were so damn good with this law of attraction bullshit. You could’ve manifested our wedding, too.”

Donghyuck is drunk, and drunk Donghyuck is always vulnerable. His tone of voice is enough for you to decide to cut this trip shorter than it already is. A week, you had promised Jeno and Jaemin, you’d leave two days after the wedding. But at this moment, when you’re frozen in place, Donghyuck’s warmth touching your coldness, you begin to ponder if it had been a good idea to come back in Seoul at all.

You love Jeno and Jaemin and would do anything for them in a heartbeat. Therefore, when the couple announced their engagement two months ago, it had been a quick, solid yes, of course, I’ll be there because you wouldn’t miss their wedding for the world, even if it had been exactly four years and two months since the last time you’d breathed the air of Seoul and that you’d rather die than be in a 12-hour flight, you swore you’d be with your friends during such a huge chapter of their lives.

Your schedules were immediately reconstructed, a ticket to Seoul safely tucked in the files in your desk’s drawer, and all your friends from London were already asking you to bring something back from Seoul when your trip is over. It was all set, with the promise of checking in with your teammates from work during your one-week leave, and it was the easiest itinerary you’d ever made. What you failed to prepare, truly, is yourself.

Somehow, you knew this would happen. You knew coming back would mean seeing Donghyuck. And seeing Donghyuck means opening wounds you’re not certain have healed and resuming conversations you’d never wanted to go back to. And this means, at any given time Donghyuck is within your space, you’d be a goner.

Because four years, it turns out, isn’t enough to get over him.

Quite funny, if you think about it now, how after all these years, you’re still orbiting around him.

You clear your throat, no words coming out, and Donghyuck starts to fall asleep against your shoulder.

Your right shoulder feels sore after falling asleep on your side on Chenle’s couch the morning after Jaemin and Jeno’s bachelor party. It was crazy, to say the least, and you’d decided to drink your guts to in hopes of not remembering anything in the morning. It sucks because you’re stupidly hungover and you remember everything.

The group was divided into two. You, Renjun, Donghyuck, and Minjeong were in charge of Jaemin in the other side of the city, courtesy of Jung Jaehyun for sponsoring and personally planning the grand party for his favorite dongsaeng. Meanwhile, Jisung, Chenle, Mark, and Jimin had planned Jeno’s very own party, along with Lee Taeyong who funded the event.

If you’re being completely honest, you’d think that after college, your friends would lose their sparks in setting up amazing parties, but last night proved you wrong.

The alcohol was disgusting, but you like that it made Renjun do things he wouldn’t do sober. Jaemin refused to get shit-faced drunk because his wedding is in two days, his hangovers usually last an entire day—he doesn’t want to show up at his own wedding looking like a zombie. Minjeong, well, she’s Minjeong, so she was just all over the place, nagging and getting drunk. She’s also a snob who thinks so highly of herself despite being the youngest in the group and liked to look down on her older friends all while attempting to stand upright after downing five shots of tequila.

Donghyuck, however, decided to bring his new girlfriend. Her name is Lia. And the only goal last night was to stay as far away as possible.

You knew that the relationship was new because Jisung filled you in before you had all parted ways for the parties, said that Donghyuck started dating her two months ago right around the time Jaemin and Jeno got engaged, Jimin being their bridge because Lia and Jimin have been friends since last year. Apparently, Lia’s been interested with him for years now; she just never had the chance because like you, Donghyuck also disappeared in and out from Seoul for a couple of years until he’d decided to stay here for good two years ago.

You can’t remember how many shots you had and how many cocktails were handed to you last night, but you wish you had more because it was evidently not enough to erase the scenarios from last night. It wasn’t enough to blur out the memories of Donghyuck holding her, kissing her, dancing with her, and just all out being a lovey-dovey boyfriend.

It’s a relief that you got home safely. There was no designated driver because the plan was to really get drunk, so Jaehyun had one of his employees drive everyone to Chenle’s penthouse because it’s the closest. You hope the others returned to Jeno’s place safely, too.

You stay still from where you’re lying down, eyes up on the ceiling, wondering what time it is. There was no plan for today aside from wedding rehearsal at six in the evening to make sure everything’s all set for tomorrow, so you reckon you have the entire day to get rid of your hangover.

You roll over to your side, facing the television, and the clock tells you it’s eleven in the morning. Renjun is snoring away from the other couch, and you remember letting Minjeong sleep on your bed for the night. You’re staring at Renjun’s sleeping form when someone on the carpeted floor suddenly rolls over, allowing you to see their face.

Donghyuck’s sleeping on the floor beside the couch, body parallel to yours so you can see his peaceful sleeping face, mouth slightly agape. He’s now sleeping on his back, head supported by one of the cushions, body covered with his jacket from last night. You remember parting ways with him with him last night. He’d taken a taxi with Lia back to her place while the rest of you went home in Jaehyun’s SUV. You don’t remember him coming back here.

You stare at him for as long as you can, because in the last three days in Seoul, you’d never really gotten the chance to get a good look on him. You and him don’t follow each other from any social media, so the last four years had truly been radio silence from both sides. Donghyuck, at 27, doesn’t look like he’s aged that much, albeit his round cheeks being gone, replaced by prominent cheekbones. It looks like he never bothered to get rid of the constellations forming on his face and neck, too, because they’re still here, just like many things that haven’t changed. Donghyuck used to love dyeing his hair crazy colors, now his hair is just colored naturally. His lips, wonder if they still taste the same.

“He’s going to melt,” Renjun says suddenly, you plop your head back to the couch, guilty for staring too long. Renjun sits up, stretching and laughing at your misery. “And you’re going to have a heart attack if you keep sneaking glances and getting caught. How many times has Jisung caught you in the last 72 hours?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, getting up and stretching as well. “What do you want to eat for breakfast?”

You carefully get off from the couch, making sure you don’t topple on Donghyuck’s sleeping body, draping the blanket over his body, walking towards Chenle’s fancy kitchen. Renjun helps you, rummaging through the fridge, and comes up with a breakfast menu with whatever you had in the kitchen.

Donghyuck wakes up before you and Renjun could finish cooking everything. He’s quiet when he approaches you in the kitchen, softly asking if you could make coffee for him. You don’t say no, of course.

“This is the most disgusting cup of coffee, I’ve had my entire life,” Donghyuck complains, leaning over the counter where you’re working on the opposite side of. “Stop jeopardizing the café’s reputation. You’re not some scientist so stop mixing concoctions from hell just to brag that you’re a part-time barista and a full-time college student. You make me sick. Literally.”

You ignore all of it, of course, eyebrows furrowed as you take another sip of the quote and quote disgusting coffee, trying to figure out what went wrong this time.

“I think it needs a bit more vanilla,” you think out loud.

“I will not join you in this stupid crusade of making your own “Barista’s Special” recipe,” he continues. “And I will tell your manager you’re wasting coffee!”

“Aha!” you exclaim when you think you got it right. “Maybe I need to level the grounds better and add another pump of vanilla. Let me try that. It should taste better.”

Donghyuck chuckles as you move around and attempt to make another cup. “You’ve been saying it should taste better since last week.”

He keeps complaining, but takes the new cup of coffee as soon as you’re done.

Donghyuck drinks.

You wait.

It still tastes disgusting.

“It’s sweet,” Donghyuck comments when he drinks it. You tilt your head. Renjun is finishing up on the scrambled eggs. You hear Minjeong come out of your room.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask, hopeful.

Donghyuck shakes his head, chuckling. “Better than the ones you made when we were in university.”

“Hey!” you laugh. “I was awarded employee of the month once!”

“That doesn’t erase the fact that you forced me to drink your disgusting concoctions for three weeks straight,” he states, making you laugh even more. “I guess, all these years you’d learned what you were missing.”

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble against Donghyuck’s chest. “The internship will just be for a few months. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Donghyuck kisses the top of your head. “When you come back,” he mutters. “When you come back, I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You freeze.

“And you’ll say yes. And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

You pull away a little so that you’re looking at him face to face. Donghyuck has tears threatening to fall from his eyes. You wipe it off with the sleeves of his jacket you’re wearing.

“I’ll say yes,” you promise. “And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

A woman’s voice announces your flight number once again and says the gates are closing in five minutes. Donghyuck kisses you in the mouth—a promise—and tells you he loves you.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” you say. “I love you, too.”

“Come back home to me, yeah?”

“I will.”

Yours and Donghyuck’s favorite restaurant was located two blocks away from his parents’ home. It closed a few years ago when its owner passed away and his children were too heartbroken to keep the business running. It was a staple from your entire high school life, and if you could say it, it defined your standards when it comes to food.

You’d just gotten a call from home that your childhood pet had to be put down because of old age and many diseases, and you called in sick for work—thank God, Johnny was willing to cover for you otherwise the manager would’ve rejected your request to stay at home for the day—and you’re truly not in the mood for anything at all.

You haven’t been home for quite sometime now, the last time being the holidays and you normally just spend a couple of days before heading back to the campus, so everything really sucks. You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

Donghyuck hears this from Jimin, of course, because your roommate called him as soon as she heard you crying from your room. He literally carries you out of your room, says grieving is better when there’s food.

As soon as you see the person standing behind the counter, you recognize the place right away. Although located in a different street now, nearby where you are, the place looks exactly the same from when it did years ago.

“Y/N! Donghyuckie!” the lady behind the counter greets.

“Oh my,” you squeal. “Auntie, I didn’t know you’re back in business! How long has it been?”

The new owner, the late owner’s eldest daughter, smiles at you and tells you they re-opened sometime this year. She tells you to find a seat and confirms she knew your order by heart.

Donghyuck sits across you. “You like it?”

“Why did you not take me here sooner?”

He smiles. “Supposedly on your birthday a couple of weeks from now. But with what happened today, I guess this is the best time.”

“You’re the best.”

It’s Jisung and Chenle who find you and Donghyuck by the pool area hours later. Donghyuck had completely fallen asleep on your shoulder. The younger ones help you and practically carry Donghyuck towards the car.

Jaemin and Jeno have left the venue so they could prepare for their flight the next day. You hadn’t paid much attention to the time when Donghyuck drunkenly approached you. Jisung tells you it’s already two in the morning.

Chenle tells you Donghyuck had broken up with Lia—the reason, he’s uncertain—which is why she stormed off from the reception and Donghyuck decided to drink his ass off while you were wandering around the place. You shrug, acknowledging the news like it doesn’t make your heart race, like it doesn’t give you some sort of hope you didn’t know you had stored, and tell them they should take him home.

Jisung says Donghyuck lives on the other side of the city, so it’s best you all head back to Chenle’s.

Jisung and Chenle share the latter’s bed, and you’re not going to let Donghyuck sleep on the couch after he had complained about his back hurting when he’d fallen asleep on the floor the other day, so it’s only right that you let Jisung and Chenle carry him to your bed.

When you wake up on the couch the next day, Donghyuck’s shoes are no longer by the doorsteps.

His footsteps are loud.

“Donghyuck, this isn’t going to work if you don’t fucking give me a chance to explain!” You scream a few feet behind Donghyuck.

Donghyuck is running away, and you’re beginning to think that convincing him to go to the gym might not have been the greatest decision because Donghyuck is literally sprinting, like he’s being chased by something so terrifying.

You almost stop. Donghyuck, who always called him home, never ran away from you all these years. Not, it looks like he’d rather be anywhere but where you. Nothing feels worse than that.

You’d just gotten back from your internship in the US, one more term and you’re graduating. The internship was easily the best thing that’s happened to you this year. They were already thinking of offering you a contract as soon as you graduate. They let you go back home, of course, to complete your degree, and said they’d be willing to keep training you in the states and have you relocate to Europe once you graduate because they’ll be expanding their business out there.

It's also the night of Donghyuck's first showcase, the first show he's headlining along with musicians and artists from different universities. You had promised Donghyuck you’d watch and support him, but things doesn't always go on your favor, because as soon as you’d landed, you were needed back to the campus for an interview for the university’s publishing team because they wanted you to talk about your experience alongside the others who went to the states to complete their internship. It was supposed to be an hour session, but you and everyone in the panel liked the questions they were asking, and somehow you felt like this was a sign that the company in the US could lead to better, brighter things for you.

Hence, you were late. Halfway through the show. Donghyuck got mad, but promised he understood. He asked for some space, at least for the rest of the night. But you wanted to apologize properly, to take him out for dinner even if it's already past midnight, and insisted that you should talk about it. Donghyuck refused, you kept insisting, until the former said something about you being a shitty girlfriend.

It’s a shitty excuse, but you were absolutely fucking tired. You’re still jetlagged from the 16-hour difference, and the entire session with your fellow interns took two hours of your day.

What you had left for the day was so little, and you chose to spend it with Donghyuck, but he decided to be an ass about it.

"I never said anything about being your girlfriend," was your dumb reply, which is why you’re now running after him from the building of Chenle’s condominium.

You pull Donghyuck with force as soon as you catch up with him, and you’re faced with your worst fear.

Donghyuck is crying. He’s never cried before, not because of you. A deep painful breath comes out of your mouth, and it hurts when you breathe, like inhaling a cloud of smoke or being hit by a ball in the back. Donghyuck keeps crying, doesn’t even hide it. He sobs and heaves and he doesn’t wipe his tears.

"Donghyuck, can you just—”

“I’m tired,” Donghyuck sobs. “Y/N, I’m so tired. I sound pathetic and I’m not sure if I’m exhausted from the performance or I’m just done with you.”

“I’m sorry,” is all what you could come up with.

“This,” Donghyuck says, gesturing the small space between you. “I don’t think it’s worth all of the pain I am feeling right now, Y/N. You’re my best friend. I—I, fuck, I used to think that maybe someday this will all be worth it, but I am tired of waiting for that day. I am drained and you have consumed all of me. I waited for you, and I keep waiting until you finally just—let go and decide you want to be with me and stop playing this never-ending game of friends with benefits bullshit we started. I’m done. What else do you want from me?”

“I—I… Donghyuck,” you stutter. I want you to give me a chance. I want you to give me more time to figure some things out myself. I want you to wait a little longer.

"I rejected Ryujin a week before you came home,” Donghyuck confesses. "When you were in the states, and you suddenly changed your mind about being my girlfriend and told me I should go out and date other people and that I shouldn’t hold myself back, I was angry. I didn’t understand why you were pushing me away so much when I’m here!”

You stay still, crying.

“I’m here,” he repeats. “I’m here and I love you, and I’ve never asked anything in return. And you tell me you love me, but you do things that—that hurt me. Every time I think we’re finally going somewhere, you—you push back and I’m just—I’m sick of it. And Jaemin said I should just move on if you can’t make up your mind because I don’t know if you haven’t realized it but Y/N, we’ve been at it for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jeno and Jaemin set me up with Ryujin,” he continues. “We went to a couple of dates. And then you called me saying you’re coming back home. So, I broke it off before we even got started. I told her it would be unfair if I kept leading her on when I know that I am still ridiculously in love with you. She said it would be alright and that she's giving me all the time and space I need to think about things."

Donghyuck curses and continues, "But I didn't need time and space, Y/N. Because I already knew that all I've ever wanted was you. I didn't need to think. I only needed you."

You don’t know what to say. You’re still holding him by his arm.

“If you're not going to say anything, let me go,” Donghyuck sternly says. You have a feeling it’s not the grip on his arm that Donghyuck is talking about. “Please.”

The single biggest mistake of your life happened on the third street from Chenle’s place, under the broken streetlight, across the ice cream parlor Donghyuck used to work at when he was seventeen.

You let him go. Donghyuck stops waiting.

The wait from the audience was long enough.

They say your graduation day is going to be one of the happiest moments in your life. It’s not. Not at all.

Not when you’d gotten your diploma on stage and Donghyuck shows you he doesn’t give a fuck by looking everywhere else. Not when it’s picture taking time with your friends and families and he decides to stand on the other side, far, far away from you. Not when his parents ask him to take a picture with you and he shrugs it off and says he’s hungry and that he’s meeting everyone at the restaurant, leaving with his entire family.

Renjun whispers, “Does he even know you’re leaving first thing in the morning?”

You shrug it off, too. “Looks like he has other things to care about.”

Jaemin sighs. “You’re not serious about this, are you? You and Donghyuck better pull your shit together. Both of you already ruined the moment for everyone.”

Renjun eyes him. “It’s not your fault, Y/N. If Donghyuck doesn’t want to listen, then so be it.”

“It’s not Donghyuck’s fault either,” Jaemin defends. “Because he’s been trying to get answers and you wouldn’t give it to him. So, I don’t think it’s his fault that he’s done.”

“We’re not picking sides here, Jaemin,” Jeno says. “Let’s go.”

Jeno and Jaemin sandwiches you in a tight hug.

The next day after the wedding, in the afternoon, the newlyweds are bound to France for their honeymoon. They’re traveling the continent for two weeks (unfortunately, London excluded from their itinerary), and all of you decided to drop them off as if they’re leaving for years. In your case, this may be the last time you’re seeing them for a long time.

“I love you,” Jaemin says as the two very strong and buff men hug you. “I know things have been tough and coming back here took a lot from you, but thank you for making sure you were present during the wedding.”

“I hope this isn’t the last time in another four years that we’d see you in person,” Jeno adds. “We miss you, you know? Please come visit us when you have time.”

“I love you two so much,” you cry, emotional with the way they’re holding you. “Go have fun.”

They bid their goodbyes to everyone else and enter the airport.

“If I don’t get the same treatment when I leave, I’m ghosting everyone,” Mark announces. Jisung laughs. “What? You all acted like they’re going away for two years. They’re coming back in literally and exactly two weeks!”

“Go be unhappy somewhere, hyung,” Donghyuck teases, making everyone laugh as you all walk back to where their cars are parked.

Chenle needs to go back to work, so did Jimin and Jisung, hence they ride all together. Minjeong’s visiting a friend, so she’s riding with Mark and Renjun because they’re all going to the same side of the city. Which means, Donghyuck is driving you back to Chenle’s place.

“Your flight is tomorrow, too, right?” Mark asks. You hum, nodding. “Come visit me in Vancouver sometime soon, too. Or I’ll fly to London.”

“Wow, you have a lot of money to spend on flying around the world multiple times, huh?” you tease.

“Hey, you’re the frequent flyer here,” he comments. “Wonder how many miles you’ve earned and redeemed from all this flying you’ve done in this lifetime.”

You laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mark.”

Renjun and the others bid you goodbye. You’re not really certain why you and Donghyuck silently agreed to watch your friends leave, you and him standing a foot away from each other as they all drive away. For some reason, it feels like the last time.

The first time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s an accident.

You were drunk, and it had been a while for the two of you considering how busy you both have been because of finals coming up. It was convenient, if you say so yourself, to have your best friend right beside you when you were feeling hot and horny. The morning after was settled with a kiss on your forehead—no apologies as discussed, because neither you nor him regretted it anyway, but there’s a promise that nothing changes.

The second time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s not going to be a one-time thing.

“So, to make it clear,” you huff as you quickly get rid of your pants while Donghyuck pulls his shirt off. “This isn’t a one-time thing.”

“I don’t see an issue if it’s not,” he replies, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, pushing you against the wall and kissing you down your neck. “Besides, we’re best friends.”

You lean your head against the wall, thinking if it’s too late to back out, but Donghyuck’s already has his hands all over you—one on your breast and the other on your waist. It’s not really that bad of an idea. Donghyuck is your best friend, and your friendship has withstood time, distance, growing pains, and mostly everything. And perhaps it’s the way you haven’t stopped thinking about your first time together that’s making you feel so, so vulnerable under his touch, but it’s not like anything’s changed since that night. In fact, if you’re being completely honest, it made you feel like you and Donghyuck know each other better now—in ways that other pairs like you don’t.

Hence, whatever thought you had a minute ago, you throw it down the drain and you let Donghyuck (messily, heartedly giggling) carry you by hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist and bring you back to his unmade bed.

Donghyuck knows how to use his tongue, and you’ve kind of always known because all the girls he’s ever slept with talk about him like he’s a god of tongue or something. Donghyuck licks your lips before diving in, as if he’s giving you a taste of what you’re about to have, and he pushes his tongue in, massaging it with yours, and it almost feels like he’s teaching you how to use the muscle in your mouth. You realize how much he likes kissing, because he kisses more than he touches. He kisses you for what felt like hours, and you’re not about to complain about it.

You let him gently drop you on his bed. His warm palms caressing its way from your waist down to the side of your thighs where he knows you like being touched the most (and you’re not certain whether he’d learned this from stories or from the time you and him had sex); Donghyuck keeps his mouth on you as he rubs circles against your hot skin.

The finger he slips between your underwear and right above your clit sends you shivers down your spine. He allows you to catch your breath for a second, moving his mouth from your lips down to your neck, but doesn’t give you enough time to recover because he rubs your clit oh, so gently.

“We’re best friends,” he repeats, murmuring the words against the skin on your neck. “Nothing changes, except now I know where to touch you.”

He does. He touches you everywhere and slips his middle finger in your hole, sighing against your skin when he feels how wet you’ve gotten simply from kissing.

“You’ve always been such a good girl for me,” he whispers, keeping his finger inside, his palm pressed against your clit. “Such a good girl. Wet and ready for me. You really are my best friend.”

“Donghyuck,” you whine. He starts rubbing from inside, moving a single finger in an upward motion, eliciting a moan from you.

“What?” he asks innocently. “You are. You are my best friend. I don’t think everyone can say they let their best friends fuck them when they’re horny. Which makes me the best best friend, too. Because I fuck the brains out of you when you’re horny. Aren’t we the best team the world has ever seen?”

Donghyuck slips another finger in—easily, because nothing can describe how we you are now. He tongues the skin on your collarbone, licking and tasting and smirking all throughout, then he fingers you properly. At this point, your underwear’s stretched from one thigh to the other.

Donghyuck likes to tease you, and you know this because he massages the inside of your hole in a swift upward motion before pulling his fingers out and slowly filling you again. He does this slowly, then fast, then slowly once again. The explicit sound of your wetness makes him chuckle, leaving your collarbones and using his other hand to pull the left cup of your bra down and goes in. He bites and nips and licks and sucks your breast while he fingers you stupid—legs apart, shamelessly wet and fucking ready for him—and you take everything he gives you.

He doesn’t make you cum though, because Donghyuck is Donghyuck. Nobody is more cunning than him.

But he doesn’t make you wait. As soon as he feels you’re about to cum, he slips his fingers out and rids himself off his own underwear, then slipping the last two pieces barely hanging on your body.

He fucks you dumb. Raw. All his glory and skin. You have no other words aside from that.

He doesn’t wait because there’s truly no need to adjust with how wet and ready you fucking are. He’s big, but Donghyuck knows how to fuck well. He knows how to prevent discomfort and he’s done a very good job at proving that to you.

He fucks you missionary, and usually, this isn’t something you’d opt for. You like being fucked hard with no sense of affection and all that bullshit when you’re stressed and in need of some kind of relief. But with Donghyuck, it’s heavenly despite how sinful his hips snap.

He fucks you. Again and again. He makes you cum twice before he pulls out and spills himself on your stomach.

He kisses you, giggles at the way you’re dumbfounded, cleans you up, and lets you sleep on his bed as though nothing has changed.

Because nothing did. Nothing ever will.

“Funny how things have changed so much in the last four years, huh?” Donghyuck asks, eyes on the road.

Donghyuck’s said he’s driving you home. You haven’t been in Seoul in four years, but the route he’s taking is definitely not the way to Chenle’s.

“We’re taking the long way home,” he interjects when he realizes you’re looking at the GPS on his car’s tablet. “There’s, uh, heavy traffic on the usual way because of some road construction. And you’re going back tomorrow. You haven’t really gone around the city, so I figured it’d be a good time.”

You hum, looking at him with a small smile.

“Sure,” you buy. “It feels like only yesterday you were driving a beat-up Hyundai. Now, you’re all fancy.”

He chuckles, turning as his car speeds through the bridge. “Well, many things have changed since you left.”

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: Seoul’s horizon running like a movie as he drives, smile soft, eyes bright.

“I’m sorry,” you brave up.

It takes you great courage to say it out loud. As best friends, you and Donghyuck had always said “thank you,” and “I love you” openly, and in countless of occasions, these words have healed scratches made around your friendship. Rarely you and him would ever say you’re sorry. The only time you can remember apologizing to him was the night, a few weeks before graduation when you’d just returned from the States after your internship. That sorry barely made up the wounds you’d caused.

At this age, you understand why saying sorry wasn’t normal for you and Donghyuck. You and him were inseparable. You were soulmates—are if you can bravely say it out loud. Your bond is stronger with him than anyone else, and you’d always believed that nothing could ever come between you and him. Like the decisions you’d made, nothing changed until something did. And when things changed, you and him had no idea what to do. Because as far as you can remember, you and Donghyuck remained constant, like a routine, a bible with a comprehensive and cohesive series of stories that’s never changed. So, when feelings got in between—denial and pining and confusion—neither of you had any idea how to handle it.

Donghyuck was bold and brave. You, on the other hand, had no ounce of courage to give it a try.

He only smiles. “A few years too late, don’t you think?”

You nod. “I know. Do you accept my apology?”

“If you buy me ice cream,” he answers.

“Done,” you say, smiling back at him. “I was scared.”

Donghyuck keeps his eyes on the road. “Of?”

“That I’d come back to Seoul and see you married with kids and all.”

“And what’s so scary about that?”

“Because it would mean I’d thrown away all the chances the universe has given me.”

Donghyuck looks ethereal like this: in a suit, smiling as he watches his bride walk down the aisle.

“Take care, yeah?” Renjun whispers as he hugs you.

Mark’s Dad and Mark himself are waiting for you outside. As most of your friends have gone home to their families after graduation, with the exception of Renjun and Jisung who spared some time today just to see you off, Mark volunteered (his dad) to drop you off the airport.

“I will,” you say, burying your face into his chest. “Any word from Donghyuck?”

Renjun pulls away and looks down. You know the answer.

“It’s okay,” you answer, mostly to yourself. “He’ll call me back soon. I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Renjun mumbles.

The only call you get before you enter the gates is a drunken one. It’s Donghyuck.

“I hate you,” he grits through the device. “And I never want to see you again.”

“I didn’t want to come back,” you confess. Donghyuck keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “Because you’d said you never wanted to see me again.”

“And I sent you messages you never received,” Donghyuck says. It surprises you. “Because your Korean number was no longer active and you’d blocked me from everything at that time.”

You smile, wondering if you had a little bit more understanding—if you had waited a little before deactivating your old number, if you had given it some time—would you and Donghyuck end up together in the end? If Donghyuck hadn’t been drunk the night you left Seoul—if he’d taken a taxi before you boarded the plane, if he’d just said sorry back—would you and him have gotten into a relationship right away?

Regret, just like grief, makes you feel things like this. They make you wonder what could have happened, if it would’ve given you the same, awful outcome, or if it would take you to the happy ending you keep dreaming about.

“Funny how we had many things we couldn’t say despite us being best friends,” he comments. “And you agree that many things have changed in the last four years, right?”

You hum, looking out your window, watching the horizon blur in motion.

“Donghyuck-ah,” you whisper, eyes still on the moving horizon. “The only thing that hasn’t changed for me.”

“What?” he asks.

“You,” you say. “You’re the only one that hasn’t changed for me. You’re still sharp when you need to be, but gentle where people you love need you to be. You’re still beautiful like the day I had realized I loved you. It wasn’t shocking, though. That day. I wasn’t all too shocked that your newly-dyed pink hair was the eureka moment for me. Because I knew all along. It was more like a flick on the wrist rather than a surprise. Like it’s always been there. The pink hair was just a reminder.”

Donghyuck stays quiet.

“And I say this like I’m hoping I could go back to four years ago and try harder to apologize,” you continue, tears already brimming your eyes. ��But I guess we needed this, Donghyuck. We needed to grow—sadly—apart. And I feel like, no, I know that I wouldn’t have gotten to know myself better if we didn’t grow apart.”

“Yeah,” he speaks for what seems like a long time. “We were—you were right all along. We couldn’t just risk it all for a relationship. I had offers left and right even before we’d graduated, and you.”

You look at him. Donghyuck’s eyes are carefully still on the road, but his gaze is soft, eyes shining from the tears welling up.

“You were made to see the world,” he says, and it breaks you like glass. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I were the reason why you don’t have the life you have now. Because it wouldn’t have worked. I love you, and I just know that at that time, when we were young and all, I wouldn’t have let you go work abroad. The few months you spent in the state for a mere internship already shook our friendship in ways we didn’t expect. What more if we had been in a relationship?”

“Donghyuck,” you sniffle. “I love you. And it hurt. And I’m sorry it us this long. I’m sorry it took me this long.”

“Stop apologizing. Y/N, I would’ve let you go eventually,” he confesses. “Because I love you so much that I’d be willing to let you go if it meant you could soar.”

The sun sets in the horizon the next time you look out your window.

Donghyuck keeps one hand on the wheel and shows you the other, palm up.

You take it with courage.

And you. You look beautiful like this: dressed in white, smiling as you walk towards your groom. You best friend. Donghyuck.

490 notes · View notes

diorcities · 6 months

Text

an essay on dreams

pairing: haechan (donghyuck) x reader, jeno x reader. genre: angst, smut, fantasy ya. hyudior's halloween stories. content: morally grey characters, slow burn, heavy plot. smut flashes (blowjob, missionary.) riding, fingering (fem receiving), oral sex (fem receiving), mating press, missionary, manhandling, slight handjob. sandman references. prose w poetry. wc: 20k, (but bear w me, it is worth it)

there is a dream you always dream of.

where you fall, infinitely. towards the void, towards space, towards the immensity of the ocean. you don't know. you never know, because you never reach the bottom. that dream you always dream about, about falling without knowing what awaits you is more recurrent than you would like to admit; it scares you more than you'd like to admit. but the most disturbing thing is that the hands that keep you suspended, those who prevent you from falling into the void are the ones that throw you in the first place.

a stranger. a friend. a lover. an enemy.

yet, it was intriguing.

your body shakes off its lethargy and you soon realize that you've been dozing off for a while when you're supposed to study. you find yourself slightly disoriented even though it's still 2 a.m., as if a whole lifetime has passed between the now and a couple of minutes ago; the sensation takes a little bit to wash off when your mouth stretches into an involuntary yawn, too potent to resist your exhaustion. every one of you is in the same dire state.

you embarked on what was meant to be a night of tranquil study, a forlorn endeavor to conquer an all-nighter. yet, at this moment, renjun reclines against jaemin's sturdy shoulder who nods over his notes, struggling to keep his eyes open. chenle has long departed for some ethereal realm where souls find solace while their earthly vessels rest. even there, he's not alone, jisung's always present sporadically responding too fatigued to discern that chenle's not with him, but in the cosmos.

“i was waiting for you” he mumbles at one point, getting no response from his murmuring partner.

and him. why is he here, among all the past nights? scattered on the sofa with no signs of being tired, walks his eyes along the lines of the book before his gaze falls on you and catches you sneaking a glance at him. you clear your throat feeling a rush of energy and turn your attention to the heavy tome on your lap, but the letters change places due to fatigue, and one more second looking at it will cause a migraine. so, you close the heavy book that almost threatens to wake up renjun who startles next to you but remains dreaming peacefully, now with jaemin laying his head on his, as you can no longer hear the meaningless conversation that jisung and chenle are having a few moments ago.

“i think it's just you and me,” you say, seeing how his way of responding to you is by pulling his head to the side, as if he knows something you don’t know yet.

the haze that has fallen on your eyes barely allows you to see his features clearly, but there's no need for that; messy honeycomb hair that he brushes every now and then, delicate hands that surely caress like a lover, brown sugar eyes that now are still on you “why don't you go to sleep?” he asks, and his voice sounds soft and slippery like a warm feeling that drips through your mind. “i can't,” you hear yourself say.

“why?”

he looks really interested. but why does he care so much? it's him who disappears at the moment when everyone else is asleep and appears days later, leaning against the brick wall of the university on any given cold morning, smoking a cigarette with the rest as if he had never left. as if you're the only one who's noticed he wasn't there.

“why don't you go to sleep?” you replicate, and you feel your heart beat slower. “besides, will you be able to study tomorrow with us, anyway?”

he just shrugs his shoulders, “why?”.

where will he go, when he's not around, when you didn't know each other, years ago? will he go to his place? will he tour the city because he has insomnia, like you? because he has nightmares, like you?

“because you'll be behind with us and we'll have to help you keep up.”

“is that so terrible?” he asks now with a composed tone, and due to deprivation, you can't turn back time so you haven't been so insensitive. “sorry,” you apologize, “i'm irritated by this test, that's why i must stay awake,” you finally confess, but is it the truth? doesn't wanting to know if he's going to leave that time have anything to do with the desire of not want to go to bed?

“everyone's asleep,” he points out. but you. the words burn in your tongue when he speaks again, “there's no point in studying while being tired.”

“i'm not tired.” but he knows you're lying, and your cheeks burn at the thought of him knowing that. you are, in the way your eyes stay closed longer than necessary when you blink, startling when an apex of desolate darkness comes and tries to lurks you in., you're too busy trying to soothe the dizzy spell to notice that he has come closer to you.

“go to sleep, star.”

“maybe if you... sleep with me.” donghyuck laughs briefly, shaking his head slightly, and you simply stay there, unable to look away, because one of the strands of his soft hair has moved slightly out of place, and you fight the urge to run your fingers between them. he doesn't lose his composure for a second, even though his cheeks are flushed. “would that be a good dream?”

“ask me tomorrow.”

your eyes close and open heavily, feeling the thick fog of sleep take possession of your mind while his figure seems to change the further you lose the battle. “i'll stay a few more minutes” you grumble in disadvantage of this weird sensation taking over your body, feeling his face being swallowed by the darkness that envelops you, casting shadows over his delicate, angular features. “now, yn.”

“i'm afraid i'll have nightmares about letters changing places if i do,” you say in an exhale.

he raises the corners of his lips, “i'll keep them away.”

his voice vibrates and passes through you in waves, resonating and expanding within you, injecting a silky sedative into your bloodstream. you are not in control of your body. the calming effect that his voice has is hard to battle, letting your head pull back and your arms fall inert on either side of your body, feeling the weight of the book slip like liquid out of your lap, feeling that every second you spend unsuccessfully in regaining control of your body is another second that slips from your fingers until it becomes an unstoppable retreat.

no matter how hard you strive to resist, slumber proves an unyielding force, and gradually, you sink deeper into morpheus domain. your body offers no resistance, your consciousness scatters throughout the boundless universe, wandering towards the endless expanse of the cosmos as the battle, both unfair and treacherous, dissipates.

as the world blurs, he's looking at you. it's his docile and magnanimous voice resounding in every bone that makes your voyage to the gloomy stars less terrible. and as you go there, you were looking at him.

time passes differently on the rem. you don't know how to explain it. it's hard to put into words. there is no activity at instance, only unconsciousness. nothing. and then... the entire universe formed with one pulse. time shrinks and cracks like a wormhole, and you're passing right through it.

your screams are barely a muffled sound in the immense darkness that rushes past you. your lungs fill with frigid air, and each frightened exhalation feels like a stab. fear tightens your stomach as you plummet through the hole. this is the moment when you remember a forgotten detail; it's just a nightmare, despite your emotions being real, despite feeling the terror emanating from your body.

there's always a mist clouding your dreams. something you dread when you close your eyes and find yourself alone for a moment in that darkness. thick, volatile, arcane. a piece of a starless sky, which weaves its own mantle that extinguishes sunlight. it smells like a thunderstorm, like the dark part of the moon. and yet, the terrors that fright the long nights are easily dissolve in liquid twilight when golden threads intervene, transforming the matter into a meteor shower.

and you're falling once again, into the stars. no. you're floating among them.

you are dreaming.

was this a fragment that belonged to the ether before it got lost in the darkness? was it yours? the matter becomes so thin that your unconscious body can pass through it. stranded in the endless void between the stars. but now everything glows.

a cozy bedroom. a café opened at midnight. a party. a city at night. a meadow. a black hole. a beach.

all happening, in the same fraction of time.

the wheat your fingers touch. the rock music that envelops your body not so different from the one that comes out of a jukebox at midnight while you dance slowly. your feet buried in the sand.

your gaze lowers to your feet before looking at the expanse of sea. little by little the sounds come back, and you're listening to the seagulls over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.

“are you going to stand there?” chenle startles you as he passes by your side, smiling so openly while he walks away toward the shore, that makes you smile too.

your eyes water from looking straight at him, waiting for an answer, and you find yourself thinking what to say, when someone else does it. “no,” jisung answers with a light laugh.

a sense of unease settles in your stomach. you slice your head for memories of how you ended up in that place when all of a sudden you remember that you haven't woken up yet.

you keep dreaming, but why this dream? where are the others?

why do you seem to be an intruder in your own dream?

“chenle, where are w-…?” your words are cut off. you cut them yourself. your voice…. sounds different; it echoes through space before returning to you in waves, until all that's left is the sound of your pulse pumping behind your ears.

you witness something unusual. jisung and chenle watch you. their faces reveal nothing, frozen in a neutral expression. all of humanity torn from their jovial faces and leaving only a shell that shows no emotion whatsoever.

a thunder strikes the sky, and jisung's face transforms. “what are you doing here?” you hesitate before speaking because you remember how your voice sounded a few moments ago; just like how his sounds like now. “i don't like this dream.” you ask, and everything is unsettling for you. a smile disfigures the boy's pale face, “i do.”

within that inner space, the corner of the universe residing within you, something stirs.

you've never been able to dream. and he often slumbers eternally when you're conscious, only to awaken for fleeting moments, like the ones when you do dream, to play with them. a riddle of ivory and hair as dark as night, celestial as a sculpted statue, perfectly chiseled, with skin as pale as lunar dust, as frigid as thee. you refer to him as nightmare.

nightmare, like the ones that torment you in the long nights. like the monsters that inhabit your head. nightmare, like this one.

you don't know anything about it, only that it dwells in you. in the immensity of your nightmares. he. who is so wary of the touch of morpheus that takes you out of the rem, where you wake up, breathing erratically.

it's still dark. the room is darkened and you feel that someone is lurking in it. wrap its hands around you, feeling your heart skip a beat as the fear crawls inside, failing to escape the dreaming. “it's me, star. it's donghyuck, it's donghyuck,” his voice tinted with sedative calmness even though you sense your own desperation in it.

you feel his fingers in your hair, as if he can untangle the bad dreams from your head, while his voice continues to feel serene, having an effect on your runaway pulse. you allow yourself to be influenced. it's always this needs to find warmth even in a place on fire. letting your guard down even when your gut says something is wrong, that he feels wrong. “you can't have good dreams.” your breath gets stuck in your throat when you hear his nocturnal voice, “he'll make sure of that.”

your body sits up, and a thud rumble causes jisung to stir in his sleep. the dim light of a forgotten lamp reveals his features in deep sleep. chenle sobs beside you, in trouble. the world becomes silent as his mouth opens but nothing comes out of it, and suddenly his chest becomes still.

jisung mutters something when you're halfway from chenle. you don't hear it until he repeats it, this time more pressing, “wake— up.” your eyes travel to the boy, breathless at jisung's twisted features in a grimace of anguish.

“chenle, wake up.” your hands shake it, but there's no answer. there's nothing. he's not breathing. “chenle,” you say more urgently, slapping his face a couple of times, “you need to breathe.” your face moves closer to his chest to try to feel his heartbeat; you don't like the revelation at all. “chenle, now!” jisung frets under your attempts to awaken chenle; his murmurs begin to become more frequent and yours more desperate.

“it's just a dream.”

jisung keeps repeating «wake up», and you start to get impatient. in one last attempt, you shift your attention to him. your hands hesitate, suspended in the path it takes you to reach his shoulders, before you do, taking a breath of air. “wake up, now!”

chenle takes a long breath of oxygen behind you, sitting up in the sleeping bag almost as jisung's eyes widen in stupefaction. you feel your head lighter, forcing you to rest your weight on your elbows while catching your breath.

“what the hell was that?” chenle asks in a hoarse voice, casting a glance at jisung before you.

you deny shortly. “you stopped breathing.”

“i know… i was— drowning,” he mentions with a shallow tone.

“what were you dreaming?” you hear yourself asking even though you don't want to know the answer.

his eyes pull away from his friend to answer you. “a beach.”

( ✶ )

donghyuck has disappeared, as usual. and you can't come to the conclusion whether that's bad or good. but it is inevitable to go around the courtyard in search of his presence. try to find him in the cafeteria with the others, or in the library where you thought he would be with jaemin that day. but it is useless, and trying to contact him is even more so. you know you shouldn't worry too much about his absence; donghyuck always comes back. even when it takes days or weeks. and feeling that you would expect it all that time does not end up seeming hopeful or pathetic. because he just doesn't care. he makes no excuses. he gives no explanation. he just appears, as if only one day had passed, as if you had said goodbye yesterday.

and every time, the lapses in which he disappears become larger. at first, it was days; he always came with an excuse about being busy. then weeks. and so on, the lapses will grow wider, until you forget his features. until you forget him.

“don't think too hard, bug.” his voice takes you out of the planet of thoughts, but his eyes remain on the book in his hand, “it's no use.” then his gaze lands on you, and it feels like he can see through you.

“what are we searching for?” jaemin lets you change the subject and focus on the stall. “art project,” he absentmindedly informs, “my teacher wants us to investigate not-so-ordinary things.”

“thats why we're in the fantasy section?” renjun arrives unexpectedly and joins in the casual chat while leaving a pile of books on the shelf where jaemin had left his attention.

“urban fantasy, little bird,” jaemin corrects under the shared chuckles of you and renjun. “troubles with sleeping?” he asks, taking notice of the books renjun had had in his possession just minutes ago.

“per usual. is either i finish my midterms or my midterms finishes me.” he pats his shoulder before taking a seat at the study table designated by the science student committee to chat during breaks.

“nightmares?” jaemin inquires before renjun shakes his head and scares away his words with his hand in a relaxed gesture. “cute, but no.”

your countenance shadows by thoughts entangling as they form, “drowning?” the word escapes from your subconscious before you can stop your mouth and renjun looks at you strangely. “dreaming apnea.”

“you found that in your little search?” jaemin praises with a smug smile that causes renjun to roll his eyes. “are you having dreaming apnea?” he wonders looking at you.

you shake your head. “i—” no. just your taciturn nightmare, until that night. of all of them the one where he was there, and you dreamed. a few seconds of glory before falling down the hole that always waits below, “see you at the red door.” jaemin and renjun say goodbye to you smiling slightly before watching you walk away from the study table towards the exit.

you can't tell them about chenle yet. not without knowing what it means. your mind is fragmented in the fateful night moment when his heart stopped beating and the moment before your nightmare triggered a metamorphosis.

a sharp pain goes through your head just thinking about it. all those dreams, could they be yours? you find yourself trying to calm the drill that slices your brain at the little hint of dreaming when you hear their voices.

“... finds out.”

“... she's not...”

they abruptly shut up as if they feel like you're listening.

jisung's gaze looks sterner than usual when chenle speaks, “d'you think you're safer?”

“no.” his voice is barely a whisper.

chenle sighs audibly, “we can make mistakes, just… don't kill me in one of those.”

jisung laughs.

“it never turned into a nightmare before...”

his words keep echoing in your head for a long time later.

( ✶ )

“an essay on dreams.”

“you must be kidding!” renjun exclaims, throwing his head back to show his annoyance.

“what does that mean anyway?” jisung asks with his mouth full of popcorn, “like, to prove your point you'll fall asleep in front of everyone?” chenle laughs at the other end of the couch.

“hear me out for a second.”

“oh, not again,” replies chenle.

jaemin ignores chenle to answer the confused boy, “i'm doing research about the rem.”

“so dreams and nightmares, then,” mutters renjun.

“the spectrum.”

everyone looks at him, dumbfounded. “how does our brain process dreams? why can't we remember some? is there a fragmented consciousness?...”

you feel donghyuck gaze on you, and when you return it, you discover that he is looking at you strangely. “entertained?”

“very,” you say, feeling the word slide down your tongue and leave a strange aftertaste. you've been feeling weird this week. it's been a few days since you eavesdropped on chenle and jisung, and you don't know how to feel about it. you haven't talked about it; you've kept your distance while the waters calm down. in the meantime, dreaming and having mental lapses in identical proportions are taking your mind lately. dreams that now belong to you. dreams that you can't seem to have enough of. you wake up from them and spend the whole day waiting to go back to bed and dream. this time, what?

a terrace in milan. night walks in new york. a piano in a london theater.

your eyes close under the premise of rem and a thousand and one dreams, but you find yourself unable to fall asleep as you feel commotion in the small living room where everyone is asleep.

but donghyuck.

the bewilderment crawls into your skin, “what…?” but donghyuck presses a finger over his mouth. silence.

your eyes sweep the place, travel to chenle; his chest rises and falls.

another rumble is heard.

“where's renjun?” you question without making a sound.

kitchen.

you get there before him because he has to cross the entire room to catch up with you when you've already changed rooms. the lights are off, and yet the silvery light that trickles through the window is extinguished when it stumbles upon his stretched figure.

even when everything is dark, you can feel his gaze.

“going somewhere?”

you feel him smile. “this late?” your eyes squint to see in more detail. you feel donghyuck get closer. renjun's voice sounds different when he speaks, “i like the night better.”

renjun opens the door, and the light coming in from the moon reveals his closed eyes.

donghyuck gets in the way when you make a pretense of going to renjun. “he's asleep—” you intervene, watching him debate. renjun disappears through the door he has opened before going into the long night “i'll go.”

what he did. what he did to you. the words he said when you thought you were out of the nightmare; you start to think that all of this is happening because of him.

he can see it in the way you look at him.

“i'll bring him back, yn,” he says before letting you go with slight reluctance. his dark eyes are the last thing you see before he disappears in pursuit of renjun.

your breath condenses in your throat as you turn around and hit jisung's sleepy figure squarely. “where are they going?”

you find yourself in the dilemma of whether or not to tell him, when in the end your bad judgment wins out “donghyuck… he, renjun, he's…”

“sleepwalking.” jaemin's yawns as he passes the two of you to close the door. you both stare at him in surprise before he stiffens slightly and speaks, “one of the terrors of the rem spectrum.”

“terrors?”

“nightmares.”

chenle enters the kitchen scratching his stomach, “well, that doesn't sound silly anymore.”

“shouldn't we go after him?” you ask, “what if he gets hurt?” you add after watching jaemin shakes his head.

“donghyuck's with him,” jaemin persuades.

“and magically we should relax?” chenle says incredulously under the eldest's gaze.

after a few long seconds where everyone waits for an elaborate answer, jaemin takes a breath of air and lets out “yes.” with nothing else before heading to the leaving room.

“wait a fucking minute.” chenle goes after him, and consequently, jisung and you too. “that's it? are we leaving the safety of our friend to someone we see every forty days?” he utters without a hint of sleep, watching jaemin shrug his shoulders, “what if he's a werewolf?”

“oh, my god.”

“we're in the middle of halloween, he might as well just be reaching out to us to become one of his kind.”

“okay, kid, enough tv before going to bed.” jaemin lets go, shaking off the chenle's grip, “you too,” he adds, looking at jisung.

due to chenle's heavy gaze, reluctant to give his arm to twist, jaemin snorts, “he's not a fucking werewolf.”

“vampire?”

“no.”

“why do you trust him?” jaemin is surprised at the contrast between his conversation and yours, but when he responds, you feel like he's grateful that you asked.

“i have sleep paralysis.”

“at first i thought it was because of having to work at that bar so i could pay rent and college...” he remains silent and lets himself be swallowed up by his mind going at a thousand revolutions.

“but they turned longer and longer, until i couldn't close my eyes without the fear that i'd be imprisoned in my own body again.”

“he offered to wake me up when that happened. he stayed in my place for a few nights and helped me.”

“did you dream about him?” everyone looks at jisung before jaemin shakes his head.

“why would i dream about him?” chenle adds under his breath before deciding it was good time go back to sleep.

“i mean, has anyone ever?” jisung goes behind him, answering in low volume, leaving you with his words causing swirls in your head.

“have you?” jisung looks over his shoulder at your face, but is only met with a neutral gaze that doesn't reveal the dead-end labyrinths that build up every time you try to reveal a moon phase of donghyuck. “no.” when he's everywhere.

when he knew jaemin for longer and never appeared in his dreams. nor chenle or jisung. no one has ever dreamed of him, and you couldn't dream before that night.

monday comes by, and so tuesday. all at once, the sounds come back to you until they become a swarm from which you have no escape, pulling out of your small universe. the night continues its constant rhythm, forcing you to stay agile, waiting tables in a bar on some forgotten street.

“still don't know why we come here all the time,” chenle says, taking a sip from this beer the moment you left it in front of him as his gaze swept the seedy place where you work half a shift. you smile unapologetically as you leave another one in front of jisung. “cheaper beers,” he answers for you, “and jaemin and yn work here.”

“what's up with the frown?” jaemin's voice blends in with the rest of the chatter, coming in your direction with a sad grimace on his face, mockingly. chenle rolls his eyes, “i'm just saying that we might as well get out of here drunk or dead.”

“it's not that bad, lele,” jisung tries to appease unsuccessfully when chenle scoffs in response. “say that when we get matching stabs in our way out,” he adds with sulkiness.

jaemin clicks his tongue, “stabs are friday's special, don't worry about it today, little prince.”

“ha,ha.”

jaemin stops smiling to adress you, “hey, can you take out the trash?”

your steps guide you towards the door designated for staff, and the voices of the group fade into the distance, swallowed by the sea of souls in that overcrowded establishment. it's quite a challenge to navigate among swaying bodies and avoid the occasional vomit stains; a typical night at the red door. frankly, you have no idea how you ended up there, in that dim corner of the city's harbor, where the majority of the clientele appears to be a curious mix of fishermen and shady characters.

before braving the cold night outside, you cast one final look at the group, attempting to soothe chenle's mood as the icy wind lashes at your face.

a chill envelops the outside, causing the nearest souls to huddle indoors, even though it's bursting at the seams. your breath escapes in ethereal clouds as you step through the door; a single bulb intermittently lights the desolate alley. it flickers in a constant dance of light and darkness, and it's not until the third flicker that you realize you're not alone. three silhouettes wrap themselves in the cold of the night as you put the bags in the bin. it's the midst of october, and the city seems trapped in an endless cycle of rain and snow. the fishermen seek refuge inside that cozy bar before the first light of dawn breaks, prepared for their maritime journey.

they seem to have a pleasant conversation as you redo the march toward the cozy interior of the seedy bar when his laughter reaches you with the wind.

“tell me, sleepwalker.” his voice, so different from the one he uses with you, is the embodiment of the dark side of the moon, deep as the endless night. “there's a price for our knowledge, my dream,” whispers one of them, his companions barely whisper to each other with a seductive tone, appearing indifferent to the shadowy nuance with which donghyuck addresses them as if they were accustomed to hearing him that way, and you are the only one taken aback by witnessing it for the first time.

the bulb flickers and plunges you into darkness as they continue talking. in one flash, you see his broad back turning towards you. another flicker, and the features of his companions start to emerge as if they are being shaped in the dark time it takes for the bulb to light up the alley once more. your breath freezes in your throat.

“good dreaming, perhaps?” you find yourself considering that the entities he converses with might not be entirely of this world, and that donghyuck is not perturbed, but rather accustomed to their presence.

“doesn't work like that,” he replies with a hint of humor under the fog that causes his voice in you. “you've done it before,” appeals the other one starting to look more like a woman with each dark flicker. you see donghyuck leaning toward her, and it's impossible to discern when he turns his back to you. you feel the seconds pass with two beats of your heart, as donghyuck regains his composure, and the figure releases a laugh that indicates donghyuck's actions have affected her. your mind undergoes a revolution, not knowing what he has done, filling your head with ideas you don't want to let affect you.

a can blocks your path, disrupting the piercing silence of the alley as you struggle to increase the distance between him and you, while simultaneously shortening the one separating you from the door. suddenly, a dizziness envelops you as his eyes meet yours.

your elusive figure slips back into the bar after having listened to their entire conversation, having gone unnoticed by their radar. donghyuck turns his gaze back to the two women, consumed by dreams, appearing more like specters than humans due to the time they've spent traversing the dream realm. completely stripped of amusement when his eyes lock onto them, one of the women dares to speak, “look at you, so far from home. chasing a myth.”

“what would morpheus think if he sees you?” donghyuck nods in acknowledgment. both figures smile, mirroring each other in a shared consciousness. he remains silent as each passing second takes a toll on the women, now reduced to little more than shadows and uncertainty. their eyes narrow once again as donghyuck addresses them, “ask him yourselves. you're now, awakened.” his voice, brimming with power, issues a gentle reprimand for their roundabout approach. donghyuck watches them dissolve into the cold night, carried away by the wind to their ensnared bodies in the dreaming, before he figures out what to do with you. his eyes trace back to the spot where you vanished before he follows your trail within.

the darkness envelops the surroundings, weaving a perfect nest for nightmares and terrors. he can hear them, his dreams and nightmares, those dark and eager thoughts yearning to break free from his mind, craving to run wild in the world. his eyes catch the faint golden threads that barely endure; the realm of sweet dreams clings as a fragile inhabitant in that place overrun by nightmares. he sees your figure moving through the crowd, approaching the group of boys who seem to have stepped out of a fairy tale to which you feel you don't quite belong, always yearning to reach the sun and bask in its warmth, despite being destined to settle for shadows and cold. feeling confined and punished by the terrors, yet perceiving a spark in your eyes capable of kindling your own fire if that's what you need to stay warm.

a sturdy arm intercepts the space between your body and that of the group. your eyes follow the limb until they meet a face weathered by the storm, bloodshot eyes, and a repulsive smile. “another round of beer for this table, darling,” he grumbles. his companions cheer as you nod hesitantly, getting ready to go for the drinks, but the arm hasn't budged an inch. “what's wrong? i saw you smiling at that group over there. is there no smile for me?” the beer-stained breath wafts into your nostrils, reminding you to be cautious. the men exchange glances at your lack of reaction, allowing the arm that holds you captive to linger another second with them. you exhale and resume your walk when a jolt rocks your world, and a hand lands on your rear unceremoniously. “give us a smile!” unrestrained chaos erupts due to the man's audacious move, taking you by surprise. laughter erupts at their table as you break free from his grasp with force, the motion propelling you forward until you collide with a solid surface.

you gasp for breath, determined to untangle yourself from the arms that envelop you and keep you captive when your eyes meet donghyuck's gentle gaze before it shifts behind you. you see his eyes cloud over, and you recall the encounter with those specters from a moment ago, prompting you to break free from his grip and put as much distance between him and you as allowed, escaping to the boys who talk about dreams and nightmares.

thanks to jaemin's discoveries from his essay, everyone is more aware of the spectrum, as he often calls it. how nightmares influence sleepers, causing terrors such as apnoea, sleep paralysis, narcolepsy, and sleepwalking; all the things that have been affecting you these past nights.

apnoea. the decease of holding your breath while diving in the ocean of dreaming. sleep paralysis. being conscious while being in the ether. nightmares. darkness that slips into your dreams and turns golden threads into liquid shadows. narcolepsy. the state of the consciousness that gets trapped in the ether. insomnia. inability to enter the dream spectrum, unwelcome.

“...morpheus and the dreamcatcher. how morpheus loved his dreams so much he turned them real.” you hear as you come closer.

“finally,” jaemin greets you before you realize he's talking to someone else. donghyuck has appeared behind you after you left him with those guys; his gaze has darkened. “shall we leave?”

“wait a minute.” chenle's voice interrupts donghyuck's, “is he coming?”

“why wouldn't he?” jaemin replies.

chenle scoffs graceless, “i don't know, jaems, maybe for the fact that all of this is happening when he's around,” he points out, sweeping his glare for approval, “besides, where the fuck is renjun, huh? bet he killed him and…”

“he, what?” renjun arrives without prior notice and places his hand on chenle's shoulder, who startles at the unexpected arrival of the boy. “ren!” jisung hugs the eldest under chenle's gaze.

“oh my god, tell me i'm not the only one who thinks this is a bad idea.”

“you've been thinking bad ideas since we arrived,” mocks jisung.

“whatever.”

your eyes take record of him, as much to everything. how chenle has big blue bags under his eyes, how jisung yawns every now and then, how jaemin seems barely here with you while renjun tries to pretend to be calm while he hasn't stopped fidgeting around.

nothing is said for a long time, but the aura remains the same, kneading the words and connecting them, failing to stay awake in class, being in a complete state of abstinence, being physically but absent. they being unable to sleep without the fear of facing their worst nightmares again, growing with each hopeless exhale, taking more space, becoming more ferocious, annihilating any iota of good dreaming.

“hey.” you blink repeatedly under jaemin's concerned gaze and offer him a reassuring smile before your gaze meets donghyuck's.

and how he looks more tired than ever.

with his bright eyes completely dull, distant expressions and a mind working at high speed behind his gaze lost somewhere in the universe that inhabits his head. he, has been having bad dreams? what will he dream of? what will his taste like? more worrying, how did he do it? making you neglect your duties for the simple fact of making you dream of outer space.

“it's dawning,” you comment, “we should probably get going.”

time fades away as they gather their belongings and venture into the dark night. your mind gets lost in a sea of thoughts before you remember that you've forgotten something, and you quickly retrace your steps back to the bar. you follow your steps automatically to the staff door, and your eyes find the piece of cloth on the coat rack. you take it in your hands, ready to return to your friends, when something catches your attention. the service door is slightly ajar, maybe due to the cold wind, maybe due to unknown hands.

your fingers brush against the doorknob to close it, but in a final breath, you decide to step out into the alley, guided by a hunch.

a thick, dark fog swirls on the wet ground of the alley, while the light bulb in your heart flickers to the rhythm of the sharp whistles in the air. the light reveals their figures, and darkness envelops them as you hear the sounds they make. the light shows the glint of their blades, while the darkness makes you feel more than hear the steel cutting through skin. the light reveals their sinister self-inflicted smiles, and darkness enshrouds them once again.

the dark mist rises and condenses in the spot behind them, taking shape, molding a pair of shoulders draped in black garments, hair as dark as the night, and two eyes that gaze at you with depth. you hear his vicious laughter resonating within you.

( ✶ )

another night descends upon all, and each one tries to find sleep. however, you find yourself willing to stay awake, trying to keep yourself at bay from the clutches of morpheus. you toss and turn on the sofa unable to find rest and choose to remain in the room's dimness.

the memories of that night haunt your thoughts, like persistent shadows refusing to fade. the images of what happened seem to replay in your mind again and again, giving you no respite.

as you're immersed in your thoughts, you sense chenle stirring in his dreams; the dreaming heads of everyone scattered in jaemin's small room like stars, and it all seems to happen again. it feels like an eternity has passed since they were all like this, every laugh, every conversation, every shared look and gesture of camaraderie among them, whose only concern was passing exams. but it's only been two weeks. two weeks without him.

your eyes begin to close unexpectedly. “enough,” you demand from the boy hidden in the shadows. “i'm not doing anything, star.” his eyes look like daydream pools when he looks at you, “you're just tired.”

you struggle against the lethargy that fills your body, reluctant to close your eyes after what you've seen, after witnessing what the darkness conceals. dreams, on the other side of the room, so far out of your reach. nightmares, your recurring companion when you shut your eyes. his tattooed on your subconscious, brimming with ruthless coldness against the specters, ingrained in the alley where the men cut off their own smiles.

“they were evil.” his voice yanks you from your reverie, “they use human bodies to wander through worlds while they sleep,” calm and warm, explains. your gaze darts toward renjun, sleeping. “yes,” he responds as though he'd anticipated your query. “you should’ve come sooner,” you reproach. donghyuck remains reticent as you unload your grievances upon him and allows you to vent until you feel hollow inside, while everything whirls around him. “i couldn't.”

“why?”

the words burn at the tip of your tongue, despite knowing the answer. despite having seen the lines of reality blur and worlds collapse. you can't decide whether to feel fear or relief; you can’t trust him anymore.

you leave donghyuck with the word in his mouth, rolling over on the couch. whatever half-truth he wants to tell you, you don't want to hear it.

it's faster that time. dreams don't put up resistance when you insert yourself into them. and again, you dream the same thing.

the sand you feel between your fingers as real as in the city, with jaemin. in the meadow, with renjun. in a black hole, alone.

you always resort to the same fragment of dream. and even though you stay out of it, the sleep is disturbed. it mutates.

“are you going to stand there?” chenle passes by your side, smiling so bright, completely ignoring what you see.

your eyes go to the expanse of sea behind them, which now rises in a wave until it blends with the blue of the sky; a sand island caught in the middle. the sounds of seagulls reverberate in the sky until you realize that it is not them but dolphins, using the clouds as waves.

“no,” jisung answers with a light laugh.

“don't make me drown this time,” chenle jokes, and you wonder.

is this chenle's dream or jisung's dream? or perhaps, something in between?

a thunderclap rumbles in every nerve joint at the same time as it does in the ground, forming the wake of the lightning in fingers that protrude from the sand and form rings that touch the sea. your eyes close dejectedly. it's the beginning of the denouement. no matter how you decide to appear, the result is always the same.

“it's a vortex.” you are startled to hear his well-known voice behind you, before you finally see him. his face… almost lights up even though it's shadowed with concern. but there's no doubt he could be containing a sun within. “it's bringing the walls down, so the dream glitches.”

“are you dreaming this too?”

you see the flutter of a strange smile that brightens up his face more, “i'm not dreaming, neither are you.” donghyuck scans the surroundings before taking note of you taking note of him. “this is chenle's dream,” he explains, “and jisung's,” he finally adds.

“they're both dreaming the same dream because of the vortex.”

“what's a vortex?”

“a sleep phenomenon,” he says, meditating. “what happens if it brings the walls down?”

a few seconds pass when your heart stops beating in the wake of his response, “the dreaming will collapse.” and that'll mean there will be no barrier between what is real and what is ethereal, so dreams will run free. and nightmares.

“their whole nature is dangerous. vortex cannot dream so they enters other's people,” donghyuck explains to you, “by doing this, the lines between dreams blurries, and two people dream about each other.” but it's impossible to look at him for long when you have secrets in your eyes. “it must be eradicated.”

“i thought people could dream about other people.”

“chenle is not dreaming about jisung, he is dreaming with jisung,” he remarks, “they're both consciously dreaming together because jisung is causing it.”

your eyes turn to donghyuck. “jisung is the vortex?”

he nods while something heavy settles in your stomach. it all makes sense now. all the inexplicable. everything out of the ordinary. their conversation. the day at the library where chenle was worried that someone would find out. all this time you thought they were talking about you, but they were actually talking about him. they were afraid of him.

what is he?

“what if you're wrong?” you question, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

“i'm not.” his voice is tinged with regret, as if he were aware that you know he must do something irremediable, at any cost. “i have the entire collective unconscious.”

dreams. conveyed by threads to the planet of dreams, a labyrinth of interwoven strands that shape the entirety of existence, a web spun from something finer than mere dust. exquisitely delicate, suspended in the ethereal air, poised to glide through your fingers and move with the grace of otherworldly tendrils. able to knot and twine, whirl, and stretch, yet they remain unbroken, eternally binding the rem.

some of them are thinner or more delicate. they are malleable. vulnerable. easily influenced if pulled in the right way. they are susceptible to corruption.

sorrow settles on his countenance, “i need to protect the dreaming.”

“by eradicating him. that's your answer for all?”

restlessness. distrust. both emotions intertwine, and you can only sense the unfamiliar essence of something fluttering within you, exploring this place and awakening once more.

“star…,” donghyuck appeals, but you're deep enough. “if he's not dreaming he's not a threat.” you try to convince him back, but his eyes shun yours as if they might cast a spell on him against his will. “don't do this to me.”

“asking you a favor?”

as the sun sinks below the horizon, so does chenle and jisung. a glow casts shadows on his angular features, his eyes encapsulating the sunset as he responds, “because you already know the answer.”

nightmare contorts and twists its form. donghyuck senses that something is amiss when he sees your features contort with what appears to be annoyance and fear. he tries to reach you, but the ground beneath his feet trembles, and before he knows it, the earth beneath your feet splits open, a boulder begins to collapse into the sea that now wets your feet.

his hands reach out to you desperately, you feel them almost touching, keeping you suspended from the abysm.

“let go.” donghyuck's eyes are covered with astonishment, “the dream is collapsing itself.” your voice manages to sound convincing over the sound of the raging sea swallowing the rock. he denies, and you discover that it's not distrust that moves him to keep you in the dream with him, it's panic. “i can protect them, but i can't protect you if you let go.”

for the first time you see hesitation cloud his eyes. uncertainty. wherever you're going, he can't. and it terrifies him.

you were there before. often. “i'll be fine,” you nod, and the movement causes your cheeks to soak wet. “it's just a dream.”

you manage to dispel the uncertainty just a little. enough for him to grant. “you'll have to wake him up,” he informs. his gaze shifts to your clasped hands before you can nod, and your heart prepares under your ribs for the imminent moment of your dream. you see him hesitate. something clouding his mind.

his lips part but you notice the words freeze in his throat; resignation tinges his features as if he is giving up something, before letting you go.

you are reduced to nothing before you expand again and your lungs begin to fill with air. your body only has a few seconds to adjust to the change of states before you go towards the sleeping figure of chenle.

his chest rises and falls, and your pulse resets in relief. wake him up is easier this time. his sleepy eyes open before closing again. the rem state restarting into a new sleep cycle. you're pleased with it before heading to the other dreamer but he's gone.

you look for him in the dark room, before you give up and your body unconsciously heads towards donghyuck's. “donghyuck,” you call him as your hands carefully shake him.

his hair is wet. “hyuck, wake up.” fear grips your insides and begins to climb up your spine when you see him arising.

your face get soaked, feeling his body tense up when you wrap your arms around him, feeling you self-aware of it before you sense his hand resting awkwardly on your back.

your body still has the memory of the night gone by. you must separate yourself from him to make sure that he is the real donghyuck, and not one of the tricks of your mind; when you look at him, his gaze melts into yours. and you have no doubt left.

your close without you being able to help it, “no more nightmares,” he pronounces watching you nod; the world is already cruel as it is.

you're too tired to fight the tiredness, so you let yourself be deposited on the still warm surface of his sleeping bag. “don’t be afraid of me,” he whispers, and you think he's longing for it.

your hands meet his face blindly. donghyuck holds his breath the moment your fingers brush his lips.

sleep gains more ground, and your hands slide out of his face unwillingly, before he takes them between his.

“star…” he calls, but there's no answer from you.

the seconds go by more slowly, and you have to wait forever to feel his lashes tickling your cheeks. your lips being brushed softly. register in your memory.

you find donghyuck's slightly frozen gaze crumbling when a smile betrays you. “it'd be a good dream,” you say with your voice muffled in his embrace. you sense him nuzzling into you. “if i sleep with you?” he asks, surprising you for even remembering it.

the vortex, the sleepwalkers, his secrets, and your nightmares. all of them can wait, because everything takes a back seat that night. you no longer fear the dark, because you have known his eyes, and you can only feel warmth. an old worship.

“alright, then.”

( ✶ )

renjun plops down on the study table full of papers and coffee, turning cold. jaemin looks away from the book for a few seconds before going back into his reading as chenle is startled by the clatter of the tomes falling against the wood, casting a furtive glance at the boy before continuing to sleep and jisung appears running through the halls as he arrives late for the afternoon of study. everything goes back on track, but something's missing. he's missing.

you navigate oceans of time and hourglasses, listening to conversations that you don't feel like being part of, admiring the perfect picture that makes up their figures trying to solve puzzles and mini-games, once plagued by terrors, forgotten in the back of their minds. because dreams last, nightmares don't.

“what are we looking for, exactly?” a deja vú sentation even though you remember it. back in the library, jaemin is too busy gazing at the bookshelf to pay attention of you staring at him before pronouncing with certain doubt. “the dreamcatcher.”

jaemin looks at you with some amusement, “having bad dreams again?” you shake your head absently under his gaze. “having any.”

where did your nightmares go?

the nightmare sorter possesses a dark and mysterious power. what were once comforting and pleasant dreams for chenle were transformed into terrifying nightmares. for him, his safe haven was always a dream of the infinite sea, where calm waves and the endless horizon filled him with peace. but irony loomed over his mind, as his worst nightmare involved precisely what he loves the most: facing his own death amidst the waters, a victim of the depths that once provided him solace.

in jaemin's dream, his greatest desire has always been to be everywhere, to experience every corner of the world and absorb every possible experience. but the nightmare sorter toyed with his wish and paralysis became his worst enemy, and being trapped in one place tormented him.

after discovering that jisung had been breaking down sleep barriers to dream about his best friend, he barely spends time with any of you. chenle hasn't dreamed of drowning anymore, but the cost of that is mourning jisung's absence. and you can't help but feel responsible for that.

as these dreams turn into nightmares, you realize that space, in its vastness and mystery, has become the recurring theme of your nighttime fears. you didn't know you loved space so much until your nightmares of falling into the void turned into a journey among the stars.

what was his? vanishing? losing track of time? has he ever tell you?

you're afraid to know the answer. you extend the time of acknowledgment and ignore it as you grab your things in a hurry, hearing jaemin's short good luck when you go out in search of him.

you fear that he has vanished again. you fear having to wait another eternity. you fear that everything will go bad. as your pulse ticks an hourglass in countdown, you try to recompose your runaway heart, hoping that so will time, slipping through your fingers. eternity has always been cruel to you, so do knowledge. time is never enough and you've taken so long, so long to realize it, that you're afraid it's too late.

you've always known where to find him.

you lose the memory of how you end up in front of him, and you're aware that the time you've taken hasn't been kind to him.

“you came.” maybe, just maybe you knew all along because he was calling.

“i know.” but not in the sense of always knowing what the other person has said. to recognize a spoken fact. to gain knowledge. no. to know. you now do.

how the cosmos is his most precious asset. the thing for his entire existence.

“let me look out for you.”

“my narcolepsy...,” he appeals. now you can see him. you've always been able to see him for what he really is and that terrifies him.

the night of the vortex, he was afraid of being trapped in the ether. he was afraid you wouldn't wake him up. the nights he refused to sleep because the threat of being trapped in the rem kept him awake. hasn't he had a rest without fear?

“i know, and i still want to.”

he shakes his head. you terrifies him, and the more he immerses himself in you, the harder it will be to do what he has to do. dreams..., dreams are his most precious asset. the cosmos is what he most desires. there are a hundred million dreamers whose dreams he must collect, for they are as fragile as a crystal sphere, and on him depends the balance of the ethereal world, and that balance has been cracking since he began to let his guard down, for you.

yet he's so selfish, that now he sees you barely here with him, inside your head before turning around his bed and landing your eyes on his dark onyx, fixed on you. “go to sleep,” you say to him in a whisper, “i'll keep them away.”

even though it is dark, you see a flash of a smile. “what if i take too long?” he asks, closing his eyes as he faces the ceiling, as if he could see the moon from there. his hand stops feeling his heartbeat under his ribs, dropping it to the side of his body, inches from yours. “i'll bring you back.” to me.

“how will you know where to find me?”

even though it is dark, he can sense your smile.

“i'll always know where to find you.”

he doesn't say anything for a while, and for a moment you think he has already gone. his body suffers a small involuntary spasm as if struggling to stay awake for a few more minutes, before he rolls towards you and his breath combs loose strands of your hair. “come with me,” he says in a sleepy voice. you manage not to look restless when his fingers brush caresses on yours. your senses beat with the same intensity as your heart, and you fear that he can hear them by being so close. “where?” you wonder, stargazing at his eyes, “to my dreams.”

his words remain suspended longer in your head, resonating until they imitate your pulse, until they expand and get under your skin. a mist settles over your mind, and his voice reciting that invitation is diluted as a sedative effect that does not take long to take effect. there is no point in fighting morpheus. it feels like falling down an abyss and your fingers are squeezed harder between donghyuck's by inertia. you're falling, and falling.

at first, you only feel the beginning of everything. you feel your heartbeats, you feel your fingers, you feel the place where you are; you are aware of yourself. your eyes record the world unfolding before you, evolving as you become more conscious, like a thinking being, and you know you are in the ether. more than knowledge, you can feel it.

and before you can register it, you plunge into the abyss. like layers, you see worlds and spirals passing in a blur before your eyes. your voice sounds strange as an involuntary sound of awe escapes you, gazing at the hundreds of thousands of golden lights adorning the realm. the existence of the whole being a stark contrast to what you usually see when you fall. so many dreams, so many people coexisting in one place, that you'll never manage to grasp or take them all in.

you feel it before you can see it. your body stops falling and remains suspended, and as donghyuck's face shines through the mist, you think: «not a stranger. friend, lover, enemy.» holding your hands, preventing you from continuing to fall. “let me tell you a story,” he finally say, his raspy voice resonating among the realm, “about the great fall.” seconds pass, or maybe an entire eternity, where his gaze reveals nothing, but you fear that yours might show something: betrayal, before his hands release you from yours without reconsideration, and this time you fall...

towards his dreams.

when you find yourself in that place, you feel as ancient as the stars themselves, and a profound comprehension of everything dawns upon you.

in the realm of divinity, there resided a god whose face remained under a veil. you fear that such beauty is only seen by worthy souls. a being so mighty, yet lonely, who found solace amidst the clouds, weaving worlds, weaving dreams. this god had a love for his dreams so profound that he willed them into existence. two catchers, gatherers of the essence, were crafted to shape the rem, threading benevolent dreams into the very fabric of each slumbering mind. and thus, the cosmos came to life.

you watch the universe unfold before your eyes, creating itself, evolving on the fly, revealing a story, and you're almost certain you can hear donghyuck narrating it.

the dreamcatchers executed their duties and responsibilities with unwavering devotion, protecting the dream world of their creator. the very essence of dreaming hinged on their meticulous craftsmanship, with golden dreams as their finest creations. yet, a peculiar injustice prevailed: they could bestow dreams upon others but were forbidden from experiencing their own. this rule kindled a deep dissatisfaction in the elder of the two. it gazed upon the world from its lofty cloud, bestowing dreams with jealousy, and in secret, it harbored a desire to reshape its reality.

its face, beautiful and eternal, reflects discontent. shrouded in jealousy, the dreamcatcher laments feeling such emotions. it senses the injustice every time it's compelled to bestow good dreams and envies the dreamers whose fate is to protect. its visage grows more withered as it lets these emotions swirl within, losing its luster as they grow to poison its soul. its once delicate hands, which once found solace in crafting shimmering desires, now clench into fists when it departs the serene realm and ventures into the unknown, into the vast universe still destined to expand. and it creates.

however, the dreams it planted in their minds transformed into something else, something it couldn't contain within. they turned dark, malevolent and seeped out of its mind into the universe. morpheus soon noticed that something was amiss. the dreamers had been plagued by dreams whose trail was as dark as the nighttime mist. he called them nightmares.

the dreamcatcher pleaded for its forgiveness, but as a great god, mighty and solitary, morpheus could only sympathize with the dreamers. he banished the dreamcatcher from the dream world, the very dream it had once loved with all its heart. thus, unable to create golden conjectures, unable to dream, and forever plagued by its own creations as punishment for what it had done, the dreamcatcher fell, and fell…

towards the void, towards space, towards the immensity of the ocean.

there is a single door in front of you, and behind it, a bright haze seizes your eyes. your fingers brush against the cold knob before you pass through it. covering your eyes in reflex when a bright light scans you before everything returns to normal, and suddenly you are in a café, at night.

the lights are dim and warm, bathing the space where two dancing figures live. it is then that you hear the soft melody; familiar at the behest, as if you had worshipped it in another lifetime. they do not realize that you are there, observing in detail, because the boy looks singularly like someone whose features you never tend to forget.

“that's my favorite song,” you hear your voice say, but your lips remain sealed. “i know,” he answered, his voice muffled by your hair, and you could recognize that voice anywhere, in any version. “it reminds me of you,” you speak again, through the great hall. a version of yourself, close on the spectrum. you watch her look up until she meets donghyuck's and you hear him ask your other version: “what other things remind you of me?” with curiosity. “brown. and chocolate,” you said.

“mhmm...” the scene blurs. it overlaps with another one that occurred later that night. you keep hearing your voice but now you don't see yourself, you're seeing through. he's so close now, you can sense his warmth colliding against your body as colliding stars. “a teddy bear and a museum.” your eyes close when you feel him pushing inside, filling you with him, drinking his moans that he slowly lets out against your lips. “wood and trees. sunsets and sunny days.” your foreheads presses together when he spread your legs and bring them to his waist, rocking in and out in brief strokes, as his features contort into an struggled frown. “fuck... i'm so close,” he whines biting his lips that you kiss right away.

“milk and pearls. a field of grass and sunflowers, and horses running free.”

you sought his gaze, “so am i”.

your whole world shakes and you are short of breath when you are squeezed and spit elsewhere. you're in a cozy hall, but you're not alone. even agitated and dazed, you can hear it. the sounds he accompanies with guttural exhalations that cause your breathing to get stuck in your throat.

it is revealed before you his body scattered on the sofa, with his head pulled back while his wet and swollen mouth lets out gasps that you want to taste on your tongue. completely vulnerable, at the mercy of someone kneeling in front of him, tasting him. “what other things you can do with that mouth?” he whispers to you, now looking at you from above as his cock twitch in your grip. he rolls his eyes and lolls his head back when you bob down to the base of his girth, and back to the tip, circling the sensitive zone with your tongue. he exhales a chuckle, “fu—ck, star.”

star. as in you. this dream, this particular dream doesn't feel like the others. the others looked real, a piece of collective memory of something greater. a collection that crossed barriers and universes to meet in one place: his head. but why don't you have access to it? why is this the first time you have witnessed them? and is this dream his, or is it yours? before you can take registration you are wrapped in an ethereal mantle, turned into nothingness and returning materially elsewhere.

a party.

you see a version of yourself being dragged by donghyuck away from a boy with puppy eyes and someone else whose gaze shine so brightly that he seems to contain the starry night of that evening in his eyes. “i can find my way out on my own, cretin,” you hear you hissed at him, trying to get rid of him to no avail. “you are a jerk. i want you to know that.” you kept ranting as he led you both to the exit, “you bumbling buffoon, always have to mess things up. how i hate you,” you blurted out, seeing that they were past the exit.

“the exit is that…”

“shut the fuck up,” it seems like a deja vú now, when his eyes finally look at you, becoming a witness and not a watcher anymore. “what is going o...?” you say, before he interrupts you, “what were you doing kissing mark?” he asks, fuming.

your laughter fill the air but it doesn't feel like you “you don't tell me what to do, idiot,” you finally say. “do what you want,” he muttered, his face coming dangerously close to yours, a contest of who murdered the other with a stare began. “but do it out of my damn party,” he whispered. his breath tickling your cheeks.

“you're like this because i kissed mark instead of you?” the boy looks at you with surprise and concern in his eyes, staring at you eternally as you're now in control of your body. “w-what?” stutter, before you grab him by the neck and bring him closer to you, joining your lips with his.

the scene evaporates, and their bodies swirl like thick haze spilling into a dark room, where your bodies lay, intertwine. donghyuck's lips devours your mouth fervently with hungry kisses. wanting to appease a long-held desire. wanting to stop a flood of suppressed emotions. his movements becoming erratic, clumsy, desperate. trying to melt into each other, trying to kiss everywhere, touch everywhere. his hips thrusting into your hips in an unexpected movement. feeling his erection against your belly.

your hands run through his chest, shoulders, and neck, until getting into his dark hair, hearing a moan die in your half-open mouth. his body hovers over yours, legs wrapping around his waist as a flame burning in your chest, numbing your common sense, letting yourself be carried away by desire.

“say my name,” you whisper in his ear, “please.”

he towers over you, in all its glory, flexing the muscles that jump under his smooth cinnamon skin. looking at you affectionately with his brown orbs, you can't help but soften you as your hand goes to his cheek, urgent. “yn,” he pronounces.

his voice has always caused you to have mixed feelings, but this time something was missing. it wasn't his voice. it was him. someone else's donghyuck. of some version of you that you wish you could be. better, kinder, less broken.

his lips deposit a kiss on your wrist. brown locks tickling you in instances before wrapping you in his warm gaze, full of cherish that in some inexplicable way has traveled through entire cosmos and has been shared, passed and given to each one of them, to look at you the way they looked at you in every parallels. but you can't stay with him.

“i promised him i'd find him.”

“who?”

“my donghyuck.”

how much time passes, in which you are nothing and everything? in which you see yourself in all your versions, while you vanish like sea foam and slip between his consciousness.

crossing the limbo that inhabits the cosmos in its search, you find the blurred line that separates this world. just a fragile and brittle barrier that houses the dense core of nightmares, containing the thick essence of terrors trapped, far, far away from his dreaming. nightmares from all places, collected from all the sleepers trapped in the one place he thought they'd be out of the reach of the dreamers, in his little ether, having to carry them, for how long?

there is no way to see through it. your breath condenses in the air between as the black mist lashes against the barrier, before stirring until it petrifies again due to the low temperatures. darkness and shadow reigning at the touch of your fingers, its eerie dance a mimicry of something unsettling, moving strangely, as if imitating…

“a black hole.”

your dream. your nightmare. your taciturn lover.

converted in front of you into what you fear most, having self-consciousness to be able to see within, taking your deepest fears and making them its own. the tick essence moves when you touch the barrier. it contracts against itself before evaporating and vanishing into nothing, forming a wormhole where you can see through donghyuck standing on the other side.

your body reacts on its own.

your hands sting when they impact against the cold frozen glass that eats the skin of your palms. “donghyuck.” it's too cold there. your breath condenses in front of you when you call his name, the awakening of knowledge when you notice it comes from the other side. cold, vast, arid. “donghyuck!” the shadow retracts, the haze disperses, and you know it's him. however, it gives in immediately and the dark essence regains strength. it has a will of its own, and you're terrified to know that it has more power than you think. a glorious creation out of control, impossible to contain.

you despair with every passing second and your efforts are futile. breaking the glass is not possible. You're afraid you're not really there. unable to alter the ethereal world, you are just a projection in the space.

your mind races at a thousand revolutions, quickly grasping what that means. you look into the darkness, and the darkness seems to look back at you, before it seems to call you to it, and you respond by becoming more than dust.

your senses stretch and intertwine in a spiral that lulls you into semi-unconsciousness as you stir in your dreams. present, not present. materially, fleetingly. all. nothing. before the icy touch on your arm pulls you out of the planet of dreams. you blink adjusting your sight just to watch a small figure at the foot of your bed.

“mommy.” it takes a while to get used to the environment, completely dizzy and confused, pulling you out of your slumber almost immediately and shooting your body upright the moment you sense him whimpering. “jisoo, sweetheart...” how do you know his name? how are you so certain that you know him, taking him in your arms and comforting him as if you were made created solely for that purpose. to protect him. “i dreamt bad things,” he confesses, rubbing his eyes as you bring him with you under the covers.

you remain silent, stroking his back and hair, lost in your head. with the feeling that you're forgetting something. you look over your shoulder and only find the space next to you empty. your lips leave a small kiss on the crown of his head. “don't worry, love.”

jisoo stands still in your arms as his words linger in your head, echoing in every recessed corner of your soul, gnawing at your insides, and you can't help but feel devastated. you want, you fervently desire to take his nightmares out of him, take them with you, carry them on you. you could use your own soul as a shield, if it meant he never knew that sorrow. “what was your nightmare about, darling?” you whisper in his ear, promising to seek for it in every corner of the cosmos, until it is reduced to little less than nothing.

his little deer eyes glow in the dark like two shiny stars, bright. his sweet little voice speaks, and all your nerve endings tighten so tightly that it hurts when he pronounces, “about you.”

the room fades away, and you're unsure if it's by your will or that of the terrors. someone screams in the distance as your eyes remain closed, reluctant to look further, all the while sensing that your fear is no longer yours but belongs to it. how can it know? how is it so aware? the space grows cold, and you huddle against it to keep its cold fingers at bay, but it envelops you in its arms, and grief and despair settle in your stomach as it takes you with it. it smells of night, of a sky stripped of stars, of endless darkness. you feel a certain comfort, a certain familiarity. the screams cease when you discover it was you in the beginning, now reduced to barely audible sobs that find solace as it shushes you.

the mist solidifies, and you sense the change as your face now presses against a soft yet firm surface, feeling the weight of their arms supporting you. nightmare carries you with it, and your terrors dissipate. you hear a snort followed by a chuckle as you feel your arms wrapping around him, tighter. “tired of screaming, sweetheart? too bad, i'd rather hear them some other time.” their voice is like a liquid storm, like the nocturnal wind. it resembles nothing you've heard before; a night in wakefulness, but above all, it's not like his.

“there's a great feast here, don't you think?” he asks, feeling him permeate everywhere but holding you close to make sure you stay with him. when you look at him, vague memories start to take shape in your mind, like fragments of a forgotten dream. an uncomfortable feeling envelops you, and recognition grows, crystallizing into a solid image. you've seen this figure before, in the alley, amidst darkness and shadows. you vividly remember what he did to those men, the terror that emanated from him. “time to wake up.”

you're on the verge of letting him take you along, on the verge of allowing yourself to wake up.

“no!” your voice comes out stronger than you expect, causing the nightmare to recoil and look at you with subtle surprise. his hair sways unrealistically like the waves of a sea entirely of the cosmos, and his head tilts back as he listens to you. “he won't mind. he's trapped.” it would be so easy to just leave, to leave him at the mercy of the night terrors. but you can't be surprised when you shake your head, and he shrugs, showing indifference, “your loss.” and vanishes.

the mist stirs as though it greets your return with eager delight. you willingly descend into the unruly tempest, offering yourself as sacrificial allure. donghyuck missed a crucial chapter in the tale. of how the nightmares rebelled against the nightmare sorter, an unceasing thirst for its very essence, an unrelenting, perpetual duty to purvey dreams stolen with a reluctant hand from dreamers, bereft of alternatives. all in the relentless pursuit of quelling its own terrors, to appease its nightmares and prevent them from consuming it.

the swirl of bad dreams roars around you, making your way through the indomitable, self-aware blackness. a creature created out of darkness. no vestiges of giving truce and claiming their new trophy. your trophy. a gold mine compared to the rest. golden dreams as its bearer. you can almost feel the hunger of your peers, awake. you can almost feel your own. the sensations that come back like poison clouding your judgment. it hovers over you almost imposible to see the light, calling you from the depths.

inside the matter is different. your body barely manages to stay on land, even your hair moves like the waves of a dark wave. above, high above your head, you observe his body disturbingly still, and your feet stop skimming the ground to close the space between both.

he casts a golden light almost extinguished. he sleeps where dreams run awake.

“hyuck.” his face seems to have aged a thousand years. your hands brush against his dull and lifeless features, and you are afraid that you are late. “hyuck, wake up.” the dark scenery reveals itself ecstatic, and a tingle rises up your spine as it falls into the realization of what it meant. “no.” it is too late. you've taken too long to find him, and nightmares have claimed him as theirs.

you have broken your promise.

he now belongs to us.

they have overpowered you. they've beaten you in numbers. that being who mocks you cannot be right. it's not; that conscious darkness belongs to you.

“i made you.”

“we are more.”

“no, you're not,” you reply with mockery, “you are what i tell you to be.” the voices fall silent, and the scent they emit clouds your sense of smell. disappointment. sadness. mourning. fear. “you're not here.”

the darkness disperses into a scream that echoes to the ends of the realm as you feel the warm wake of donghyuck's hand perching on yours. his fingers tangle in yours, just as his presence. his breath hits the hidden place on your neck when you hug him for an eternity. inmersed in each other.

“is this where you go, when you're asleep?” you inquire, helping him to get up. “i need to stay here as long as i'm need to,” he explains, too distracted to let go of your hand.

“you shouldn't have entered here,” he adds, reproachfully.

“why did you?”

“i have duties,” he says with an uncommon tone. mortified. hopeless. imprinting a wild emotion, he enunciates every word with them, “i have dreams to take care of.”

“and who takes care of you?”

“i'm fine.” but he's not. when his eyes close to your touch, and his eyebrows gather in a restrained emotion pressing his cheek against your palm for more contact you know he's not. “i made a promise.”

“so did i.” as his gaze spills into yours, his lips burn for saying that he has been looking for you all over the universe. in all parallels. that he would never have dared to enter the tangle of nightmares if he had not believed you were inside it. that you weren't the only one who fell that instance, lost now in the eternal realm, because he followed you. but he keeps it to himself, and instead, he lets himself be carried away by the cooing of your touch, by the softness of your voice, telling him to go home.

as the ethereal shroud unfurls from around you, you're unsure whether mere hours have passed or an entire eternity. you feel the world spin, and it takes a significant effort to pry your eyes open. despite having slept, you're weary as if a thief has stolen your sleep. “the effect will linger for a bit,” you hear his drowsy voice instructing, pulling you from your reverie. how long were you inside his mind? how many days have passed since you went to sleep?

“don't dwell on it too much. it's better not to know.” your eyes open slowly, reinvigorated by his voice rousing you from slumber. it's then that you notice his fingers tracing through the strands of your hair.

the line that once stood wavering is now too blurred to tell when it was crossed, an eternity ago, as you inhale the comforting scent of home that emanates from his body, cradling yours. “how did you do it?” you hear yourself ask, too exhausted to feel intrusive. the dream you now cradle like a relic, forged by his golden threads, turning the darkness into something less than a place where the stars would shine brighter. you sense his chest vibrate as he makes a brief sound in his throat, a sign that he is listening despite being more in the realm of dreams than there with you. “i've known you since i was born.”

he watches you with a multitude of suppressed emotions as you ascend his body and hover above him, your hair cascading like the nightly cloak that always envelops him when he's lost in his dreams. his gaze weaves stars and conjectures as he forms two crescents while smiling with weariness, and longing clouds your judgment.

“how did you know where to find me?” he asks.

as though the constellations themselves had liquefied, trickling into his gaze, your responds “i've known it since i was born.”

your lips spill your essence onto his in a cautious yet passionate encounter. the world recedes, and all at once, the kiss assumes the flavors of countless others, a collective memory. and yet, his lips are the only ones you've been craving all along. your heart beats with a more deliberate cadence, mirroring the unhurried rhythm of the universe as his hands echo the gentle contours of your face feeling his lips parting slightly upon yours, each kiss becoming deeper, each kiss becoming eternal. your mouths unite in the obscurity, an unceasing communion, causing time to unravel and elongate until the boundary between you and him becomes an indistinct, boundless continuum.

donghyuck deposits you back into the comfort of his bed, descending on you until his body is mated to yours. lips and teeth taste your mouth. the elixir of liquid stars savored on your tongue. you cling to his body completely drunk on his longing-flavored kisses. hands tangling in his hair pulling him closer to you, mouths merging in a metamorphosis of tongues and gasps, willing to safeguard each other's sigh rather than break the kiss for air.

his tresses tickle your cheeks, his eyelashes caress your cheekbones and his hands have not left your face. you fear you are being devoured with each kiss deposited on your lips, with the taste of his tongue on yours. you fear that you could become nothing.

you feel his body melt over yours. a gasp leaves his lips extinguished in your mouth as your hands venture down his broad shoulders and arms, firm yet delicate. you hold your breath as his body moves over yours, taking your hands in his above your head as his hips sink against yours. he presses down, rocking against you in an involuntary motion while still kissing you. “star.” his voice wreaks havoc on you, causing a pit to appear in your belly, pushing you down.

clothes begin to get in the way and become scarce. his fingers leave trails wherever he roams, your chest, your belly, until they hover around your legs, touching the inside of your thighs as he drinks your moans from your mouth, bristling your skin. feeling his silky chiseled body move over you, mingling with yours, permeating every corner of you with his presence.

your breath catches as you hear him growl as he rolls onto the bed, pulling away from you. your body burns in the places where he no longer touches you, your lips burn in protest against his.

“what is it?” his shortness of breath mingles with the anguish that assails you when he doesn't speak to you.

meditative, lost, tormented. he's never only in one place. he's everywhere. scattered in other heads, aware of all of them. in vigil. and sometimes, they don't leave him alone, unable to get rid of them, destined always to carry the conscience of dreams, and so, nightmares.

as a struggle takes place in the universe where he's conscious, your hands cradle his face and for an instant, “focus on me.” he hides like a moon phase in the hidden place of your neck, drawing you to him like an anchor that keeps him with you, pulling you onto his lap, you end up sitting in each other's embrace. “hyuck, stay with me.” until his worries become as small as an applesauce that you can push away from his shoulder.

until he finds his way back to you.

and so his mouth.

entangled. a jumble of gasps and glances that seem to repeat each other's name. a religion founded on his lips pressing against your collarbone and his fingers burying themselves in your waist. sucking the bristling skin of his shoulders, the soft skin of his neck, the sweet and comforting scent of his lips, drinking in the other's panting as his length presses against the hot zone of your core. lifting you above him as you feel him venture beneath you, as you feel his fingers wrap around your girth and guide it to brush against you, as you feel yourself spreading up, giving him room as you lower yourself onto it all the way to the base.

both of you furrow your brows at the pleasurable sensation. sensing his member fit snugly wrapped around your silky walls. the hole tingles from you and you bite your lip, feeling full and blissful as donghyuck's hand presses into your belly. you arch involuntarily pushing back your hips. and consequently, moving forth over his lap.

a hiss departs from his lips before his features relax and a pant follows your name that you taste from his mouth open.

the sounds emerge and fill the room. the touch of your bodies mixes with the gasps. the stars in the sky mingle with the stars in your eyes, and your mouths speak each other's name between kisses until the vast infinity remembers you. little moans and whimpers that you bite from his mouth, that die in yours. precious, like him. tinged with adoration, with need. your body vibrates and enjoys his beneath you, burying itself with each thrust of your hips, stealing your breath as his find yours first, touching the sweet spot inside that give their purpose when your head tilts back and it is impossible to keep your eyes on his daydream eyes.

the firmness of his erection presses against your walls as you rock back and forth, stiff but so soft it slides out before your fingers guide it back into you. you revel in his face fading into the raw pleasure that splices his body. pink lips and bitten a thousand and one times by your mouth. silent guttural sounds you've been deprived of for an eternity.

enernity. eternity.

the world is shrinking. it ends. it resurfaces in the same way that your exhalations soak your mouths. in which your hands are lost in his silky hair and his in your intimacy. suffering a spasm when his graceful fingers begin to trace circles in the swelling of your clitoris, and his warm tongue wraps around one of your erect nipples.

no needs for words. there isn't a language yet invented that can encapsulate the feeling the way your mouths do, nor another way to talk than your eyes, gazing at each other.

you comb his hair, untangling dreams from his head, drugged in the delight of his touch to the beat of your hips riding him. the silky sounds of your dilated pussy coating his cock, ramming completely enraptured by the sensation generated by the liquid sound of your ecstasy sliding and lubricating his length, feeling it hit the soft wall inside you when you go down completely and begin to ride him with short strokes that he controls with his hands on your waist.

you try to suppress the unconscious sounds you let out every time he sinks into you at his pick-up pace accompanied by the liquid splash of your crotch lubricating his cock. donghyuck notices the struggle that blurs your gaze just by looking at you. “keep doing like that, precious,” he exhales and your hands go to his on your waist, suddenly dazed by his mere voice. “mm-hm, like that.” his voice cuts off at the end of the sentence into a strangled vowel when your insides squeeze around him in a spasm.

you squeal and hold tighter on his hands sensing your whole insides glow. “baby.” the hole in your belly expands and shot euphoria through your bloodstream, and donghyuck holds you closer, til you can hear his heartbeat, or is it yours? a desperate sound leaves your mouth parted open as your legs go numb and your mind spreads in the space. and his grip becomes tighter, “h-hyuck.” your body jolts back and forth along his length buried in your walls and a tingle bathes your limbs. and as the sensation expands towards the edge of the universe, and the stars spills into you as he lets out your name caught between one last exhausted moan, and you fall, asleep.

and it happens. all at once. at the same time.

the memories you've been deprived of as punishment. to be completely alone in the vast infinity, now filled with extracts of essence collected from different places from a shared conscious of you, in all alternate universes with his presence. feeling completely comforted that there are other stories, where everything is simpler, where love prevails in most of them. where there are a thousand and one scenarios where you and donghyuck always manage to find each other.

this piece of consciousness that was long stripped of you, as if morpheus knew that leaving you alone with your own nightmares wouldn't punish enough, he also took away your memories with donghyuck. he let you forget him and distrust him, and you couldn't conceive which part of the punishment was worse: to be the one who forgets, or to be the one who is forgotten.

it takes you a while to get used to the uncovering of memories from a collective memory. as you are now aware of everything around you. and yet, the dilemma of whether it's a dream or a reality still remains.

“dream?” you ask him, so close to his face you can see his moles forming a little constellation. your little constellation.

“dreamlike.”

you bet his dreams taste exquisite but his lips taste more so.

( ✶ )

you feel it before you can hear it. the change in matter that floats around you. join in total alertness, while you continue your work as if you don't notice the way your hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. humming a stray song while trying to sharpen what your subconscious tells you to pay attention to, but only a fraction of a second has passed, and the intruder is gone again.

he's been coming for three nights now. at first, you felt something detach from your chest, the absence where it once was now with a hole that threatened to eat itself. a silky, cold sensation that slips away into the starless night. you can't help but think it's due to a collateral action after donghyuck showed you the dreaming, and stole you from his embrace that never failed to rip you from morpheus, so you could rest on his instead.

your steps take you back to the cozy room and to the tangle of legs and sheets in which you had managed to emerge victorious a few hours ago. something flutters in your chest as you watch him sleep peacefully, oblivious to the anguish that grips your insides as you imagine this same scenario without you. sleeping, trapped in the ether. you're not capable of aging, you doubt that you're not eternal, but time has always been your rival. and while he sleeps, time narrows, expands, moves.

all this time he's been away, he's only been asleep. and you don't find anything sadder than that, you don't find any comfort in knowing it either. because without him, the cosmos protector, dreams run wild. affordable, manipulable, fragile. tender, like the soft skin exposed by his sweatpants, golden as his touch. tempting, like his wet mouth, part open. vulnerable, such as the area behind his ears.

all this time, you were looking out for his dreams.

your lips sit on the warm skin of his stomach and it takes all your willpower not to venture out, just far enough away to go up to his chest and caress his collarbones. kisses deposited in the valley of his neck until you reach his cheeks.

“wake up.” the room stay still. you hold your breath.

before your eyes register the awakening. slowly coming out of the ether, his eyelashes fluttering with the laziness of someone who is still drowsy. you leave a chaste kiss on his cheeks, suddenly pink-tinged and find yourself doubting whether he's able to stay aware of what's going on with his body when he's lost somewhere else.

it takes seconds for him to recover from his trip to the stars, where he receives everything you give him: water, in case he gets thirsty, a half-finished sandwich and headache pills. you look at him with urgency as the sandwich is finished and you can't find his movements so endearing, especially when he grabs you by the cheeks and his lips leave a tender kiss on your mouth.

his body returns to the cozy nest that the sheets form with you. he kisses you urgently, eyes darkening at the sight of you, out of breath because, you had spent so much time fearing darkness when now it only reminds you of him. “how's the dreaming?,” you ask, cradling his face. “so fucking long,” he mutters before you're kissed again.

your body is trapped underneath his and you can't help but melt with every caress his fingers leave as he settles between your legs while slowly kissing you. lips splitting in a moan to make room for his silky tongue sliding into your needy mouth. your senses are wriggled in a bundle of sensations that explode after a long time without him. your skin crawls. and he slides his fingers along your stomach.

you're embarrassed that he knows how much you've missed him. how ecstatic you are just for a few kisses because you've been without them for a fraction of eternity. he suppresses a curse when you feel so silky, “so wet.” fingers smoothly sliding down your folds as his lips drift off to your exposed neck. your mouth opens in a silent gasp as you feel his digits move in circles in the swollen area of your pussy.

a sweet sensation forms there where he touches. you're out of breath. a smile forming in your lips that he tastes later with this mouth. your feelings are wired at the destructive kiss, melting you entirely. you couldn't resist the moans, coming from your mouth as a prayer that only he could fulfill. as your body twirled from his touch, wanting more.

“hyuck.” your stomach feels on fire. your whole body buzzes to his fingers slowly stimulating your clit. “keep saying my name like that.” your body arches involuntarily as you feel the embers come down to your crotch and slide into your legs, completely devastated.

dying moans as dying stars. needy. eager. your hands fisted in his chest while his fingers venture dangerously down before feeling them inserting inside.

his fingers expanding you as he adjusts them within your walls release a pleasant sensation that makes your eyes roll behind your eyelids. “so tight, star.” a hiss assails you when you feel your skin tingling the moment he starts to pump his digits in you, “i can't wait to fuck you.”

he exhales when your fingers travel to your clit. hands now touching while his are inside you. the brief touches of your skins cause a shiver to run through your entire body. his voice is ten times darker than before, deep and filled with raw desire, “feels good?” fingers curling gently while constantly stroking your sensitive wall. “too— good.”

you missed him. you missed him an entire lifetime. as his fingers wreak havoc on you and his voice tells you how pretty you are, your whole body reacts in electricity, shooting on your bloodstream, reaching your belly. “you take my fingers so well, mhm?” donghyuck feels the waves on his fingers still moving inside while you pass your high.

he lets out a hearty laugh when your fingers travel to his body, needily removing his clothes. you don't really care that he knows how much you crave him. how much your body calls his name. how much it hurts you to want him inside. he rejoices to see you undress him and take off your pajamas and panties yourself, how willing you are for him to fuck you.

he spreads your legs and enjoys the sight of your swollen and flushed pussy soaking his fingers.

you hear him moaning under his breath, “i want to taste you, baby. fuck, i need it so bad.” his words wreak havoc on your lower belly, and you find yourself squeezing nothing; you want it too.

he devours you completely, and your breath is choppy only with his mouth working miracles on your already sensitive folds. his breath hits the right area that makes your eyes close tightly, and exhale with difficulty, “you taste so good after i fingered you.” his tongue moves over the hard skin of your clit and you swear you're about to combust.

your hands tangle in his hair as the lashes of his tongue take your breath away. his warm breath flushes all over your skin as he opens his mouth and starts sucking gently. your throat feels pasty when a moan reverberates in your chest as you feel a sharp tingle in your belly. “shit,” you pant, feeling your stomach tighten and your whole body sinking into the mattress. senses going numb to donghyuck humming in delight against your skin before he feels your body convulse slightly, and quickly using his warm palm to keep your legs from closing when a sharp sensation rip you apart. “take it. take me.”

a strangled sound comes out of your mouth before you feel your body sink into violent spasms. the raw desire injected into your bloodstream is too much for you to process in one go, leaving you completely light and inebriated, tense and contorted under his heavy gaze, drinking the sight of your naked body still suffering the aftermath of his acts on you.

something glows behind his dilated pupils when you recover your blurry sight. watching him hovering over you, you looked in his eyes, two dark orbs, consumed entirely by the pupil; a black hole that you wouldn't mind falling into.

a guttural grunt escapes his lips as he feels your fingers curl around his wet girth. you stifle a gasp as you feel it hard. hands moving up and down, stroking his dick as exerting pressure. feeling his delicate cock warm and soft, you gently stimulate it. donghyuck's head falls forward, and you bite your lip, delighting in the sight of his blushing penis, glistening with precum pearls.

“say that you want me,” he utters, “that i'm yours.”

words get stuck in your throat, you feel a rush of ecstasy when you guide him in, watching him being affected by you when he slides fully. “we belong to each other.”

you can only let yourself be carried away by the uncontrolled sensation caused by his cock deliciously entering inside. a sweet burn takes your breath away as you feel him so thick, settling inside you, pressing against your aroused walls. a tremor shakes your legs when he stands still for you to adjust around him; his lips are part open absorbing the way your nerves clenched around him, your fingers squeeze around the tender skin of his arms when you feel him push inward.

you feel so overwhelmed that your legs don't respond to your stimuli, completely, irrevocably, eagerly at his will.

a deep moan escapes from his lips. “you feel good,” he whispers as you feel him starting to thrust you. a hiss assails you, still sore from his fingers, “i'll be gentle.”

his mouth leaves moist kisses on yours half-open, unable to generate a single coherent thought other than the arcane pleasure that welcomes you every time you feel him sliding in and out, steady. sharply. “so good for me.” he adds in a moan, a hidden feeling of belonging while passionately pounding you: «just for me». “soaking my dick so g-good, taking me so good— oh,” he murmurs, twitching his face, “always wet and tight no matter how much i fuck you, huh?” he breathes heavily against you open mouth before he traps your lower lip in his teeth.

his tongue enters your mouth and makes you feel all the voracious desire he has to make you his, imprinted in his kisses, in the way his fingers bury themselves in your soft skin while his girth is buried into you over and over, leaving you breathless.

your voice, clouded by the euphoria that is unleashed in your stomach, can barely hiss with a deep groan “f-feels good.” your cheeks are wet, eyes under the haze of tears of pleasure that involuntarily shake you when he pushes against your intimacy. your eyes open only to take record of him, looking so hauntingly beautiful. holy. eyes clouded by the simmering desire in his dilated pupils as he admires you take his cock, letting out all these emotions he feels at the same time in moans and grunts that delight your ears every time he sinks into you.

“mine.”

“always—, my yn.”

a pride catches you knowing that you are his.

a demolished feeling shaking your body under his heavy gaze when he wraps his arm under your thighs and brings them to your ribs. your whole self fixed in the way he fucks you deeper. “o-oh shit,” you shudder. “you're d-doing so good.” he hovers over you with an exhale, “soaking wet for me,” pressing you against the mattress, his dick hammers your cunt sharply, causing your eyes to slam shut. your drenched pussy accompanies his thrusts with the lascivious sound of your arousal coating his girth every time it goes in and out. feeling his warm breath in your ear as he slams his pelvis rhythmically into you, taking exhales with each thrust. “oh— fuck.” it feels so good. he feels so good. you're a whole mess of thoughts, speechless. a jumble of gasping and sobbing and yet the only thing that comes from your mouth is his name in your shaky voice.

“you're making me feel so— good calling my name.” donghyuck opens his mouth to let out a wild growl that causes your legs to tremble. his eyes are two pools that take you to the abyss. blushing with labored breathing, your neck burns when you are aware that it is because of you. feeling your swollen pussy throbbing with sharp pleasure, which tears your belly at him constantly hitting every nerve in you.

his expert moves shift your body with ease. he puts you in different positions that cause screams in you. completely carried away by the crushing of his pelvis pounding you, rough and raw. “hyuck!” a pant of surprise assails you at the simple thought of him shifting you in a heartbeat before your thoughts get messy and lose the thread when you sense the warm feeling of him inside you again, stretching you with smoothness every time. arching your back as a silent moan burns in your throat.

you want him closer. you want him to shatter you.

your fingers tangle in his hair as you feel his hands hug your waist. your legs roll up slightly at his hips, pelvis suspended inches from the mattress. you roll your eyes when you feel him still erect slipping inside you and pressing his tip against a weird but delicious angle. you're completely numb. your fingers go to the base of his penis, wetting your fingers with the creamy ring that formed the constant hammering on you. staying in the same position when you feel him insert it all the way in, the rubbing of your fingers sending shivers down your spine.

“just like that, baby,” you whisper under your breath as donghyuck penetrates you again and again, slowly, passionately, hissing under the pressure of your fingers wrapped around his circumference. “fucking me so g-good.” you feel his body buzz with each powerful stroke. every second he takes between thrusts, feeling it the pleasure runs through his length.

his mouth lets out a beautiful strangled growl. so possessed, so bewitched. the purest ecstasy fluttering in his eyes as he sees the point where your bodies meet. you're imprisoned under his heavy gaze drinking the sight of your naked body still suffering the aftermath of his actions on you while sharply stroking his dick in and out, watching your tits bouncing with each move.

“so gorgeous. you're so gorgeous.”

moans died and were reborn into stars twinkling in your vision, leaving in their wake your broken body as donghyuck turned up the intensity. his movements rougher by having more stability, bending you until your thighs touch his hips and your head lolls back into the mattress.

“let me fuck you right, star” his unwrapping thrusts drove you to edge of your sanity. a silky-smooth feeling filling your mind, the melody of your voices, a feeling of delight took root in your abdomen, tightening, wanting to be released from you.

you clenched and grithe your teeth. your walls pulsating each time he comes in and out, steady, consistent while you're a mess of tears and sighs. “hold it, love,” he coaxes, and no matter how tired you were, it wouldn't be enough. there was no end to your satisfaction when it comes to him. you'd burn your body to keep him warm if he asks you to.

his deep thrusts feel delicious. a tingling runs through you and embalms your body with a numbing sensation. the space absorbed your essence as your stomach tightened and your back arched into a frenzy. flushed, he rocks his cock back and forth into you as he puts pressure on the grip that holds your legs spread when you try to pull away because you feel a lot, everything, like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. letting out a whimper when you're overpowered by him.

“h-hyuck, p-please. i'm cumming.”

you're so close, a thousand emotions going through your mind. feeling him reaching out your spot, over and over, causing an explosion of suppressed pleasure. feeling the mixture of both arousal causing damp sounds every time he hammers you, joining your breathy moans in the steamy air between your bodies. “i want to cum with you.” his body tenses and your body shake, “tell me when, love.” you make a fist the sheets in your hands, arching your back closer to him. “f-fuck!” your eyes close tightly and your pasty throat let out a scream, legs closing around his hips as his thick grith grinds inside you until he brakes suddenly and his cock twitch wrapped by your walls before it starts to pulsate erratically along your nerves.

his mouth leaves a trail of bites and kisses down your stomach until it goes up your chest. he stays still inside you until you stop pulsating around his cock coated in your arousal, and then, he slides out before he pumps it back and forth a few times more. your body jolts and vibrates as he finishes covering your body with marks from his lips. his hands tangle behind your waist, drawing you towards him, leaving your legs to fall sore around his waist.

you feel his cum slide along to his cock when he pulls it out. breath bathing your face when you join your foreheads and catch your breath. delighting in the full sensation left by your bodies together, intertwined, merged into each other. a gentle caress brushes your tummy when he draws circles with his thumb. pressing a kiss on your shoulder as he drift down. mouth replacing hands, caresses turning into kisses. you sense him fixed on your intimacy before he lifts from the bed.

“hyuck.”

“right here, star.” you feel coming back again, a slight touch in your body, and him disappearing again. you don't know how much time has passed till you come back to your senses, in a bathtub, drunk and sleepy. “tired?” he says, suddenly blushing. “mhm.” your eyes close involuntarily, but you open them again when you feel his mouth pressing against yours. “sorry,” you say hesitantly, taking notice of his messy hair traced by your fingers and his neck marked by your mouth. he kisses you softly, exhaling when he feels your hands on his nape, bringing him closer. “aren't you coming?”

“i wish i could…” but he's been asleep for so long. his life paused while he was away. you can't expect him to leave his life aside just so you can have waking moments with him. “don't think that.”

you laugh.

“think, what?”

“that i want to be somewhere else but with you when i'm awake.” you deny.

“i love being with you while you sleep,” you assure him, “you don't owe me anything.”

“jisung is out there.” he murmurs. “would you be okay for a few hours?” he wants to know.

you don't know if you have to tell him about nightmare. he's never posed a real threat, but not having him with you can't mean anything good. you've been cautious, hoping that next time he'll stay longer, allow you to put him back in the empty place of the small cosmos where he belongs, but he remains just as cautious, and his ephemeral visits only bring with them the promise of being able to consume golden dreams.

golden dreams that you've been watching while their wearer is vulnerable.

your fingers run their moles over the golden skin of his face, gliding down to his neck where the constellation continues. you nod absentmindedly, soothing yourself with his now bright eyes. “something's wrong?”

his eyes are worried, and you see him watching you more closely to find out what's troubling you. “it's just... it must be tiring. lonely,” you correct later, “i wish i could give you dreams like you do with me because... it must feel lonely.”

his lips curl up with fondness. “it doesn't.” he muses. “i get to see the dreams of other dreamers, i can see the dreams of every version of me, and when i do, i don't feel so alone, because you are always there, with me.”

where you put this grief, this guilt, where there is a room to contain it.

you can't. there isn't.

“be careful.”

you watch him disappear through the bathroom door, his essence slowly fading into the light air as you sink your head under the water to chase away the evil thoughts swirling around your head.

warm water numbs your muscles stiff with worry. everything becomes silent underwater. even your head. as the seconds of oxygen run out, your mind clears.

jaemin has been studying rem for months now, if there's anyone who knows about this besides donghyuck it's him. you'll ask him about nightmare. there won't be need to involve donghyuck into this.

there a shift in the water, you sense a subtle change in the warm water wrapping you. your hands take a foothold on the slippery ceramic of the tub to get out underwater. eyes opening in a strange instinct, encountering nothing but darkness staying still above you, before it attacks you. panic takes hold as a viscous substance infiltrates your nostrils, constricting your airways in a suffocating grip. a coiling serpent of fear, constricting your muscles as it winds its way down your throat.

but just as it seems that darkness might claim you, the sensation of drowning vanishes. you burst forth from beneath the water's surface, gasping for breath, your chest heaving with the urgency of survival. your wide eyes search the water's depths, yet all you find is the undisturbed and tranquil surface, bearing no trace of the harrowing struggle that unfolded below.

you feel trapped in a whirlwind of emotions as you watch everything unfold automatically. your body moves on its own, as if it's disconnected from your consciousness. consternation consumes you from within, and you know jisung must be dreaming again, blurring the lines between reality and nightmares. and now donghyuck goes straight to it. your steps quicken, resonating like the racing pulse under your ribs as you glide through the bookstore's corridors.

no one pays attention to you; they’re either asleep in their table or too busy to watch the girl almost running as she turns in a corner. you come across jaemin standing in front of chenle’s sleeping figure at the table. his eyes dart away as if they've detected your presence, and a smile forms on his face. however, your eyes fail to see it because they travel towards the creature beside him, eclipsing the dim light of the bookstore with its smile. you feel ancestral panic inject into your bloodstream when you realize jaemin can see it too, “oh, this is jeno.” all the blood migrates from your face, and his smile widens further.

you see him take a few steps, closing the gap between you without being able to do anything about it, frozen in anticipation. his hand reaches out to you. “a pleasure,” he says in a husky voice. he's here. really, physically. “you shouldn't be here...” you whisper, causing his eyebrows to shoot up, showing his surprise. his hand rests on his chest, “i'm just helping a friend with his nightmare problem.”

his countenance exudes a sense of contentment, while yours surrenders abruptly to the bitter taste of defeat. you watch as he takes his place, engaged in casual conversation with jaemin, a scenario that strains your credulity. jeno assumes the mantle of an ordinary young man, laughter and jests flowing freely, a potent elixir of mirth that might, under different circumstances, have coaxed laughter from your lips if it weren't for the incessant pounding of your heart, staying alert to his movements. when his hands move suddenly, but only to pick up a pencil. when his body makes an unexpected movement, but only to settle into his seat. your breath oscillates in agony, measured in agonizing intervals just before jaemin goes for a book and leave you both alone.

a chuckle ripples through his chest as you guide him toward a desolate corner. “one of my dreams,” you hear him jest.

“stay away from him.”

“don't let jealousy cloud your judgment, my dearest,” he coos, his hand daring to cradle his chin, only to meet your swift rebuff and unyielding gaze. “i'm deadly serious, you... should not be here,” you insist, observing as he takes a contemplative pause, morphing his countenance into an unsettling neutrality that sends involuntary shivers down your spine. yet, the sight of his sardonic grin strangely lulls your unease.

“i've missed you as well... drinking dreams together…, being inside you.”

he takes your silence as embarrassment. fangs peeking through his lips, yet a hint of annoyance flickers in his nighttime eyes when he discerns the truth behind your silence. “doesn't work that way, mastermind," he intones, emphasizing each syllable as he gently taps his index finger against your forehead.

“what are you?”

“a thought, an invention, a dream.” he recites, coming closer. your steps take you away from him, a shadow stirs in his gaze, like a crow's wings, sending shivers down your spine. “are you afraid of me now, after all i've done?”

your brow furrows and his wicked grin widens even more. “why?” you ask confused by his intentions. you can't believe that someone wickedly evil has been saving you on several occasions.

“i owe you,” he simply say, “thanks to you, i exist. and... thanks to you, i am free.”

“i can do whatever i want,” he says with sly enthusiasm.

“you killed those men.” your voice sounds raspy and pasty when you speak. and he finds it, delightful.

he spills joy tinted in every word when he pronounces, “you did.”

the ground beneath you quivers beneath the gravity of his revelation, an undeniable truth crashing over you. “of course not.” but a sliver of doubt lingers in your mind. could you? would you? his enigmatic gaze descends to floor as if he could feel it too.

when his eyes find yours again, a fierce struggle unfolds within their depths. “or maybe someone else did.”

you get his implication,“he wouldn’t do something like that.”

a smile as sharp as a knife. “oh, you have no idea what things he’d willing to do to protect his little dreams.”

the ground quakes once more, and this time, you're certain it's not your doing.

“enough,” you declare, although you can't decide what you mean.

“i'm not doing anything, darling,” the subtle roll of his eyes doesn't escape your notice, yet your attention remains firmly planted on the floor. confusion knits your brow as you observe a puddle encroaching on the soles of your shoes.

your gaze traces the meandering path, eventually leading to the study table. chenle’s name becomes lodged in your throat as a deafening shatter assaults your ears; the shelves flanking both jeno and you teeter precariously. the library is about to collapse.

jeno's hands spring out toward you reflexively, but you deftly evade them and instead utter, “chenle.” there's a hint of reluctance in jeno's response before he resigns himself to approach the slumbering boy.

books start to tumble to the floor as the crowd erupts into collective hysteria. this isn't a dream. it's happening again. water splashes as you approach the table where jeno is trying to wake chenle with limited success. “this doesn't look good at all.”

another crash rends the air as the earth cracks, and the world shudders when a rocky spire erupts from the ground, puncturing the vaulted library ceiling. debris begins to rain down. “you don't expect me to carry him, do you?” he asks rhetorically. “never, you're not strong enough.” a few seconds pass before your words have an impact. “okay, fine. mastermind.”

the water begins to rise, creeping up their knees and weaving its way through the books, meandering around the crystal spires jutting from all sides. the place starts to fold in on itself, morphing as it seeks an escape amidst the chaos and hysteria. the water climbs higher and higher along their limbs as the ceiling crumbles, revealing a sky filled with meteorites.

“keep moving, darling.” you hear jeno’s voice under your bewilderment. “this is…” not chenle’s dream. something morphed. this is his dream, but also yours.

not dreams. nightmares. they are taking possession while people dream.

“jeno.” your voice trembles more than you'd like. all those people, in the same state as chenle despite making a thousand attempts to wake him, remain ensnared in the realm as their dreams turn to nightmares and escape from the ether into reality.

your eyes dart to him when you receive no response, but you're met with the cruel revelation that he's gone. you sweep hastily in all directions in his search as you call his name, almost in desperation, too absorbed in the panic that paralyzes you that you barely register the marble figure sinking into the depths. the water reaches your chest, and it's only now that you came across the fact that you've long since ceased to touch solid ground.

you take a breath before submerging yourself, swimming down as the ever-widening expanse separates you further. his frozen, pale hand stretches toward yours, unable to make contact, sinking alongside chenle. a sharp pain explodes in your chest as you look at each other, his face trapped in eternal agony, as he vanishes into the depths, until only chenle and you remain, drifting in the endless expanse of the cerulean sea.

your lungs rebel, their desperate gasps clinging to the dwindling reserves of oxygen, while your outstretched fingers ache as if they could grasp the very essence of chenle. fiercely holding onto that lifeline, you initiate your ascent as your body falters beneath the relentless depths.

the world swirls in a dizzying frenzy. first, the embrace of the ocean's frigid depths envelopes you while your outstretched fingers ache as they grasp chenle, then the warmth of another's taking hold of you. in this tumultuous surge, you sense your very being's resistance against the relentless sea, as it compels you to expel the intruding water, your throat erupting in a violent symphony of coughs.

gradually, your ears resurface, attuned to the cacophony of a world that had been submerged in silence. amidst the crackling sounds of your awakening senses, chenle's cough reaches you.

you're too catatonic to initially register his presence, warming your insides, but once your being recognizes his, you wrap your arms around him and meld into him. donghyuck embraces you, and you blur your own fear of losing him with his. after an eternity passes during which it seems like you both don’t want to break each other's embrace, you become aware of the world falling apart.

“i thought i'd lost you,” you sob. your hands cradle his warm face, and his eyes tightly shut. you see his celestial countenance marred by fears as the stone where he placed your bodies begins to tremble. “jisung... what happened with him?” you ask.

his eyes finally open, wet with lament. “he's not doing this, star.” confusion roots itself in your stomach as a sensation tightens in your chest. “it's you.”

“the nightmares…,” he mentions while you find yourself slowly denying. an unwanted feeling winds through you, a presence you refuse to acknowledge. as he talks, as he accuses you for actions you cannot truly comprehend, delving into your consciousness that unravels your misguided decisions, compelling you to confront the uncomfortable truth unfolding before you. “you took them from me.”

despair creeps in, “so you could sleep.”

“so you could free them.”

you couldn't carry out such an act. it wasn't for that reason that you did it, yet you’re the only one who refuses to believe it. his shoulders slump under the weight of defeat, and you, you've lost your voice; all the things you’ve done, all the things you could’ve done, dancing in the space.

he seizes your daze to hold you tighter, and you feel it. every sensation that assails him with each rapid heartbeat. reluctance. fear. love. resignation. “i've been searching for you since you fell, my star,” his voice is tinged with sorrow, and you hear him sob. “i fell for you.”

boulders start to tumble into the deluge. the ground beneath you quakes as it crumbles away. “he vanished me from the dreaming until i was worthy once more. until i found the nightmare sorter.” your arms hang limp, feeling defeat coursing through your veins. every part of you burning. your heart breaking in tandem with the world while his arms continue to embrace you.

a sob overtakes you, “sorry for taking too long, my star. i would have loved to spend an eternity with you.”

“we're bond forever. our souls come from the same star. i'll find you again, in another universe, in other lifetime. and i promise i'll find you sooner next time.”

you look at him with nothing left inside you, consumed by betrayal, unwilling to do anything because your heart is broken. his dreams are his most precious possession, and he would do anything for them, just as you would do anything for him. “i love you.” he shatters when you shake your head. no, you don't.

you feel your body move under his influence, his eyes closing, unwilling to look. “look at me.” his face contorts in agony as he does as you ask.

the words burn on your tongue, “i would never have done this to you.” your feet slip off the ledge, and you make no attempt to hold onto anything.

the voracious pain in your chest tightens as you fall, numbed by the spreading malaise within you. not sensing at first the shift in the substance around you; how it becomes denser. your body shivers from the cold touch, so different from his warm hands. this time, he doesn't laugh, but you know it's him, enveloping you in his midnight cloak. you've been descending for a time without end with the ocean as your downfall.

but you never reach the bottom. he transforms your being like his, nighttime mist that dissipates into the darkness.

you are startled awake from your reverie. it feels like you've been dozing for a lifetime. in a dream you always dream of.

where you fall, infinitely. towards the void, towards space, towards the immensity of the ocean. you don't know. you never know, because you never reach the bottom. pushed by a stranger. a friend. a lover. an enemy. a lost boy.

his gaze falls on you and catches you sneaking a glance at him; a lot of time has passed. “i think it's just you and me,” you say, his eyes as dark as two black holes capable of devouring entire stars, with secrets yearning to escape as if he knows something you don’t know yet.

#haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #haechan fic #haechan angst #donghyuck angst #donghyuck imagines #nct dream smut #haechan x you #donghyuck x you #♡haechan #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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lily-blue · 5 months

Text

Stupid but mine

☆ characters: hermes’ son!haechan & apollo’s daughter!you ☆ genre: percy jackson au, humour ☆ warnings: physical fight, mention of blood and injury ☆ request: FWS24. form this prompt list ☆ summary: Haechan is always ready to defend your honour, even if it means he needs to fight one of Ares’ annoying sons ☆ words: 1,6k ☆ dedicated to: @dat-town ♥

You had known Haechan since you had been ten; he had been the first person who had pissed you off when your mother had sent you to Camp Half-Blood to spare the rest of your family from possible monster attacks. You might not have been as smart as Athene’s children nor could you have read emotions as easily as the kids in the Aphrodite cabin, but from your first day at the demigod training facility on Long Island, it had been painfully obvious to you that it had never been about your safety. And that had turned you into an angry and rude teenager, who hadn’t known when to shut up or retreat. You would never regret punching the boy in the face for his comment on your emo eyeliner.

You had never regretted becoming his best friend, either, though the latter had taken a lot of time, convincing and a life or death situation that had turned the entire camp into a bloody battlefield two weeks before your sixteenth birthday. Gosh, the smug look on his face when you had ugly cried next to his not-so-unconscious body in the infirmary had burnt into your brain. You were pretty sure that, up to this day, he hadn’t forgotten about it, either.

Offering one of the strawberry cupcakes on your tray to the gods, you almost fell head first into the altar when a large body crashed against yours; you hated how you didn’t even have to turn towards the culprit to know who found joy in messing with you. When you had applied for the vacant camp instructor positions at the end of your last summer at Camp Half-Blood - which had already been three years ago - you hadn’t thought much about whom you would have needed to work together with in the future, and you cursed yourself for overlooking the possibility of numerous summers in Yuta’s company at least three times a week. The demigod was a pain in the ass, a man on a mission to raise your blood pressure for no goddamn reason. For Zeus’ sake. He was so annoying. Wasn’t it time for him to grow up?

‘Hey, asshole!’ Your best friend’s angry voice came from somewhere behind you, and you closed your eyes for a second to ground yourself. You knew… you just knew that all hell was about to break loose. Because as much as you appreciated him for always having your back, Lee Haechan hadn’t grown up yet, either, despite working as an instructor in a camp full of young kids and teenagers.

‘And here comes the self-proclaimed hero,’ Yuta mused, mockery thick in his voice, which only fueled Haechan’s frustration. Sliding your gaze from one to the other, you wondered whether you should have turned a blind eye on the upcoming disaster for once or stick around in case someone got hurt. You wished you could have walked away without feeling guilty. It would have made your life that much easier. ‘What do you want, Lee?’

‘Hm, dunno. An apology for a starter doesn’t sound so bad,’ Haechan retorted immediately after he inserted himself between the two of you. You could see people starting to pay more attention to your group. Though, there were many campers who took one pitiful look at the guys and decided they weren’t interested.

Their disinterest spoke volumes. These two had already caused more commotions this year than the previous one and September was still five weeks away. You let out a resigned sigh.

‘You know the two of you aren’t actually together?’ Yuta scoffed, the smirk in the corner of his mouth mocking as he was clearly trying to push Haechan’s buttons. ‘The Aphrodite girls were messing with your wine.’

The memories from last Sunday washed over you in way too vivid waves; the kiss you had shared with Haechan was something you had tried to ignore ever since you had woken up the next morning. You pressed your lips into a firm line to swallow back a careless comeback. You were afraid it might have caused more harm than good if you had admitted that you had enjoyed the soft touch of your best friend’s lips against your own.

‘I said apologise to her for pushing her into the altar on purpose,’ Haechan stood his ground, his appearance surprisingly level-headed, although for someone like you, who had known him over a decade, it was obvious that he was fuming inside. Unfortunately, Yuta had spent as many summers in Camp Half-Blood as the two of you if not more (you had never bothered to ask), so he saw right through Hermes’ son.

‘You’re not my boss. If anything, you should be the one following my orders,’ Yuta retorted, chuckling with a wide smile to rile the other demigod up.

You took it as a sign to stand between the two, blocking the older’s line of sight as much as you could with your petite body. Why did Haechan have to grow so tall? When you had been eleven, you had been almost a head taller than him.

‘Like hell I would,’ your best friend spat, putting his hand on your shoulder before he slowly, gently pushed you behind his back. ‘Don’t make me kick your ass in front of all these kids. Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t apologise,’ Haechan claimed as he walked up to Yuta and poked his chest once, twice, three times.

‘My ass? Really? I will make you eat your words before you have the chance to pull your sword out of its sheath, baby boy,’ Yuta taunted and for the nth time since you had become a camp instructor, you wondered why you hadn’t quitted the moment you had realised Yuta and Haechan had also gotten the same position. Could you have been a masochist at heart?

Or an idiot, maybe. You should have dressed in a clown costume for Justin’s infamous party this Halloween.

‘It’s so on,’ Haechan exclaimed and the two were out the Dining Pavilion before you could have taken your first bite from your strawberry cupcake or said as much as:

‘That’s a very stupid idea.’

Not because you didn’t believe in your best friend - Haechan was surprisingly good with swords -, but because how else would you have described a deliberate one-on-one duel with one of Ares’ most ruthless sons. Haechan must have lost his mind to not see how idiotic of an idea it was. You swore he was the reason you were losing so much hair these days because of the constant stress he was putting you through.

Abandoning your lunch, you did grab two pieces of cupcakes before you ran after the idiots, which meant you made it in time to hear Haechan brag about his speed and those muscles he had indeed put on in the past years. Hell, he was so confident, for a second you believed he would defy all odds and teach Yuta a lesson.

Instead, he found himself on the ground in less than forty seconds; your heart skipped a beat and you forgot to breathe when the sword fell out of his hand. He looked so miserable.

‘Yuta, that’s enough,’ you stood between the point of his sword and Haechan’s ass, flinching at the stinging feeling of the blade scratching your cheek. The cut was small enough to not faze your audience, but deep enough to draw blood, which was seriously annoying as you knew it would leave a scar. Your skin was too sensitive not to; you still had acne scars on your chin from months ago that hadn’t gone away.

Your staring contest with Yuta ended with the boy’s arm falling back by his side and a quiet apology that sounded more like a mockery than an actual display of worry and regret. It was fine with you, though. You hadn’t needed his apology to begin with.

You didn’t wait for the crowd to disperse; in spite of how common these disputes were in the camp, there were always a couple of spectators who lingered. You would have been careless to waste even just a couple of seconds on them when Haechan’s heavy breathing got more and more uneven. You had to act fast.

So you turned around and crouched down next to his body. The soothing balm you had made of herbs that grew in the forest surrounding the camp was in your hand in a blink of an eye. Being the daughter of the Greek god of healing (and poetry, music, knowledge and a dozen of random things people would have bragged about on their CVs these days) sure had its perks. After all, your talent with medicine might have been inherited.

‘Next th… next time he will think th… twice before he’s rh… rude to you,’ your stupid best friend forced through his teeth, his smile pained but genuine, which made you feel conflicted and bothered. Hadn’t he realised yet that he had more than probably fractured his ribs? You didn’t have to take off his uniform to know the bruises on his chest were nasty. Yuta had made sure to make confetti out of his ugly, orange tee.

‘Sure he will,’ you mocked, sarcasm dripping from your retort, so that Haechan could feel your disapproval even if he missed your eye roll.

And no, you did NOT blush like a schoolgirl just because he had said that. Just because defending your honour was clearly more important to him than his own well-being. It wasn’t romantic. No, it was idiotic. He was an idiot.

But god, he was your idiot. And you loved him more than you let him in on.

the end.

#haechan #lee donghyuck #haechan x you #donghyuck x you #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #ssbyme #nct dream scenarios #nct dream x you #nct dream x reader #nct scenarios #percy jackson au #humour #greek gods au

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ethereal-engene · 11 months

Text

promise you | donghyuck

pairing: bf!haechan x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, and comfort // warnings: mentions of death threats & cuss words

summary: The first and last time your boyfriend answers a call from a sasaeng who keeps calling your phone. // word count: 1695

note: I am in my delulu era per usual and apparently he said this once and ... this is my take on it "Ah, you really don't know when you should be scared. I'm going to sue you. I'm going to hang up."

Honestly there are a few things that one can expect when they’re dating a k-pop idol. However, nothing could have ever prepared you for dealing with your boyfriend sasaengs.

It was a big deal too because he didn’t want you getting hurt because of them since he knew he had many of them. It’s too bad that he couldn’t control them but he tried his best to keep them from you. Nonetheless, the extent to which some sasaengs were willing to go were farther than his power and influence could reach.

This just so happened to be another incident where he wasn’t able to protect you from it. A couple weeks ago, you kept on getting text messages from an unknown number. As one would do in this situation, you blocked them but of course they would just have another number to text you with.

These messages at first didn’t seem like much until they escalated with messages of threatening to kill you and to stay away from Hyuck. You still ignored a good chunk of them even if they did make your heart rate go crazy. To be fair, if they were serious about this, they would have already done it.

You would have brought it up to your boyfriend but you slightly felt bad to have tell him about it since you knew he would feel bad about you being hurt. When in reality, he shouldn’t be sorry and if they were his true fans then they would be happy for him. It’s just the unfortunate nature and conditions that come with dating an idol. Plus, the bare minimum here would also be fans respecting their idol’s privacy.

Even though you had not brought this up to your boyfriend, he definitely picked up on how your phone notifications would go off more than usual these past few weeks. You brush it off as it’s just your friend texting you about the drama happening at work.

But we both know that’s a lie and haechan knows one when he hears one. Especially when you sometimes pick up your phone and a small wince or sigh leaves your mouth as you read what’s on the screen. He decides to leave it alone for now because he believes that you will eventually tell him.

One night when you’re staying over with him at the dorms, you’re chilling on his bed as he plays. Your phone starts to ring and you forgot to take a look at the contact number before picking it up.

“Hello?” You ask. Haechan hears you on the phone so he tries to make less noise, but he also quiets down to hear who might be calling you this late into the night.

“Bitch, if you don’t leave Haechan tonight, I will literally kill you tomorrow so you will never see him again. I’ve told you multiple times to leave him but you still haven’t. This isn’t a threat, it’s a promise. Now take your things and go. And as always. Do. Not. Tell. Him.” The voice responds and you end the phone call. You quickly block this number and try to make your heart stop racing so fast.

Placing your hand over your heart and attempting to pace your breathing. Haechan can hear your slightly heavy breathing. His eyes leave the screen to look at you. You are clearly not in the best condition as you were a few moments ago.

“Jeno-ya, I’ll be gone for a few minutes. Make sure I don’t get killed this round, I’ve gotta go check on my girl.” As soon as he says that, he rushes to the bed where you are.

“Hey baby? I’m right here and if you don’t mind me asking, who called you earlier?” Haechan’s hands search for yours and when he feels them, he squeezes them to let you know he’s there.

Shaking your head left and right to let him know it was no one, he frees up one hand to tilt your head so you’re only looking at him. When he does it, he sees that your pupils are dilated. His immediate reaction is to figure out what the hell happened and how to comfort you.

No one in the world should ever make you feel this way. Haechan brings your figure closer to his. Wrapping you up in his arms and giving you small kisses. “Baby, I’ve got you. I am begging you to tell me who called you and what did they say? And don’t try to lie. You’re a really bad liar ya know?”

You’re too scared to tell him now because of how he’ll react. Scared to hear him tell you about how you’re supposed to go and tell him about these things because you’re in danger. Scared to hear him tell you that you shouldn’t have kept this a secret for so long. Scared to hear him tell you that this is all of his fault and that he doesn’t deserve you.

Silence fills the air. It starts to feel so stuffy and you want to escape it so badly. But he won’t let you go until you tell him. Right before, he’s about to say something else; the phone rings again. You’re quick to end the call before he gets a chance to see it.

But the phone just keeps on ringing and ringing after you click the decline button. With the way you react to decline the call quickly and your phone lights up with more messages. Haechan’s eyes skim over them and he pieces together what’s been going on.

You might have a death grip on your phone but you forget that Hyuck’s strength heightens when he’s frustrated like right now. The next time, they call. He snatches it before you can even try to grab it back.

“Oh, so glad you learned your lesson and picked up the phone again you bitch. Now as I said, if you don’t leave Haechan tonight. I will kill you. If you think I’m kidding, I’m really not. I have everything ready for you. Your choice.”

Haechan removes you from him in the best way he can without hurting you. Along with holding you back as you continue to try to get the phone back, even though you know you can’t win. All he sees is red but he composes himself to answer back.

“I’m not sure who you’re calling bitch unless you’re talking about yourself. If you know what’s good for you. You should stop contacting this number.” A laugh is heard in the background of the call on the other side.

“Oh my god Haechan!! I didn’t know that you were going to pick up. I’m so sorry but your girlfriend deserves to die because she’s not good enough for you.”

A ‘tsk’ leaves his mouth and continues with "Ah, you really don't know when you should be scared. I'm going to sue you. I'm going to hang up." And with that, he ends the call.

A long huff and puff is heard from him. He’s going through so many emotions right now. You look at him in the eyes and wonder what he’s thinking about saying next.

“I’m sorry, hyuck. I’m sorry for not telling you about this earlier. I don’t want you to blame yourself for this and please don’t hate me or yourself because of this.” You can’t help but start to let it all out. It would be a big lie to say that all of this wasn’t scary to deal with and it wasn’t painful.

Some of their comments were as if your insecurities started to come to life and taunting you about not being good enough or worse. You tilt your head down to look at the floor because you’re too embarrassed to look at him right now. Your eyes are all puffy and your nose is starting to leak.

After a few minutes of rubbing your eyes dry on your shirt and snot with a tissue away, he finally says something. At first, it’s not you. It's to Jeno telling him that something happened and he’s done for tonight.

Then he walks over to you and cups your face with his hands. Wiping away the falling and dried tears from your eyes. They’re bloodshot red and his heart hurts all over again.

He just keeps eye contact with you with his hands cupping your face. Haechan can’t help but laugh a little at your face when it’s all squished like this. “Y/n-ie. You are the love of my life. Without a doubt, you are one of the many people in my life that I love so much and couldn’t live life without”, Planting a forehead kiss and making sure that you’re still looking at him.

“I am not going to lie and say that you I’m not a tad bit angry or upset that you didn’t tell me about this. Because frankly, I am because it involves your safety and wellbeing.” You nod in agreement.

”You are right about me somewhat blaming myself for this. You are not responsible for my feelings and neither am I responsible for yours. From the bottom of my heart, I am truly sorry you had to go through this alone but I promise you that I’ll always be there. God forbid this ever happen again but if it does. Please tell me so I can do my best to make you feel safe and loved again. I promise.” Haechan finally un-cups your face to hold you in his arms. You whisper another apology and I love you too as you take in his warmth & comfort.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re one strong woman and I couldn’t be happier to call you mine. Just remember that you don’t have to be strong all of the time.”

You two fall asleep afterwards and the next day involves him getting you a new phone number along with the paperwork required to file a lawsuit. When all that is said and done, this phone call remains the first and last time he ever picks up a call from a sasaeng on your phone.

... another fic I’ll probably re-visit b/c this could be longer but for now, enjoy this! man, the # of sasaengs he has is 😔

as always please do give me feedback by reblogging this with your thoughts in the tag or leaving a note or even dming/sending an ask. it’s all that I ask for. please take care until next time

signing off

- ash

#kflixnet #haechan x reader #nct x reader #nct angst #nct fluff #donghyuck x reader #hyuck x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #lee haechan x reader #lee haechan x y/n #nct imagines #nct x female reader #donghyuck imagines #donghyuck scenarios #donghyuck x you #ash and queue

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haetkeeper · 2 years

Text

cardio

lee haechan x female reader < 2.6k

summary — haechan doesn’t really frequent the gym often, but he decides to go with johnny just this once. but because you were there, it’s safe to say that he’ll probably be back again.

tags — fem!reader x haechan / hc is a little bit perverted for this ( but so is reader ) / reader + hc are kind of into each other from the getgo / hc is actually kind of nice in this fic????

smut — unprotected sex ( don’t be stupid ), shower sex, fingering, oral both m!&f! receiving, praising f! receiving , slapping, cream pie

authors note — kinda rushed this one, did it within the span of one day which is so fast for me lol, not proof read sorry for mistakes

haechan had no interest in going to the gym with johnny. every time he does, he finds himself too exhausted to continue, meanwhile johnny isn't even halfway through his workout. he'd much rather stay home and play video games until the sun comes up, but tonight was different.

he and johnny had been playing overwatch for hours, but once it was gym time, he was left all alone. you can only play so many games by yourself, before boredom overcomes you. so what does he do? he lets johnny convince him to tag along.

the streets were quiet, and gym quieter, only the occasional lonely soul to be seen driving by or exiting the building. no wonder johnny enjoys coming at this hour, considering the privacy it welcomes.

they both put their headphones in, johnny immediately making use of a weight machine, and haechan starting on a floor yoga mat in order to stretch.

time passes, half an hour now, and haechan feels that his legs will turn to jelly if he spends one more minute on the treadmill machine.

he wipes at his forehead with a hand towel, and the gym door rattles, gaining his attention into its direction, no one but you entering through it.

he's immediately encapsulated by your appearance, focusing on the ponytail that swings on your neck, and the sports bra that sits over your torso, while athletic shorts hug your thighs.

you have headphones in of your own, and you march right over to a mat to stretch, paying no mind to either of the men who share the space with you.

haechan is curious about you, intrigued even. he quickly puts two and two together, believing that maybe, you're paying no mind to them, because you come here often enough to have seen johnny before.

he walks over to johnny, where he's lifting dumbbells the size of haechans head, and taps on his shoulder to release him from the hold of his music.

johnny raises an eyebrow and removes his airpod.

"hey, do you know her?" haechan immediately asks, discretely referencing to you over his shoulder with his thumb.

peeking around haechans figure, johnny takes you in.

"know her? no, but she's always here when I am, must have the same workout schedule." he states, and haechan responds with nothing but an 'ahh' in understanding.

"why?" johnny smiles, although he already knows the answer.

you've now moved from the yoga mat to the squat bar, loading up the poles with weight.

haechan sighs, watching as you squat with the bar over your shoulders, bending down with your ass out behind you. "she's pretty, that's all." haechan gulps, sitting down into a workout bench next to where johnny is currently stationed.

"go say hi." johnny chuckles, pointing his chin into your direction. and before haechan can detest to the dare, johnny returns his airpod to his ear, once again shutting the boy out.

there's no way haechan could approach you, not at this hour, nor at this location. he's heard the many horror stories of men who won't leave women alone at the gym, and he knows how fearful you may become if he strays too closely.

he decides against it all, pushing you to the back of his mind and returning to the workout he came here for. he stays where he is, pumping his biceps with hand weights, although they're only half the size of johnny's dumbbells.

tuning you out as best as he can, with the burning pain in his arms, and the blasting music in his ears, he desperately ignores the way your body moves. you use a leg machine now, and haechan has to shut his eyes; in order to blind himself to the way your thigh muscles quiver and shake with fatigue.

the current song to blast in his ears comes to an end, and through the silent pause between it and the next one, haechan can hear you— oh my god, grunting through the pain. a simple throaty groan escaping your throat with each thrust of the machine, it sounds so pretty, he thinks.

he can't do this anymore, his arms weak and body hot; he needs a cold shower. so he snatches a towel from his lightly packed gym bag and heads for the washroom.

as you lay back against the leather machine, he walks near you, heavy breaths puffing in his chest, and a drop of sweat coming down his temple; he's the most gorgeous boy you've ever seen.

in the split second that he passes by, you catch his gaze, and before you can muster a friendly smile, he quickly glances away. you frown, your ego slightly injured by the way this cute boy must not be as intrigued by your appearance as you are of his.

but his heart beats so heavily, impossibly more affected by you now, a plethora of butterflies fluttering in his stomach as proof of it.

he strips quickly as soon as his sandals hit the tile floor, letting the freezing cold water wash away his white hot thoughts of you. he thanks god that the throbbing sensations had not yet drifted to his pants, because the tent that could've pitched itself there would have been unmistakable.

it's several minutes later until he finally feels cooled off, and begins to lather away his gym sweat with soap. finally, he's composed, hoping now that you've finished your workout and will be gone when he exits the shower. but as he steps into the unisex sink and water-fountain common area, there you are.

you're refilling a personal water bottle at the fountain, and glance over to him. his hair is damp and cheeks flushed to a rosy pink color, and the friendly smile you suppressed earlier now finds home in your expression.

"evening." you say softly, reverting your eyes back down to the fountain. "evening." he responds with a bow, before turning to look at himself in the mirror next to you.

"do you come to this gym often?" you ask, hoping the cute boy doesn't find you too inquisitive for his taste. "sometimes, yeah." he says, glancing to you in the mirror reflection.

"that's weird, I feel like I'd remember you." you mumble. there's a slight teasing manner in your tone, and he must notice it too, because it has him spinning to face you, taking it as a green light. "i'm haechan."

you smirk widely, continuing the game "and I, have some cardio to get back to." you turn away, but he's quick to jump in front of you.

his face his just inches away from your own, "cardio? I can help with that." and his voice is deeper and huskier now than you'd heard it before.

you back away from him, heart racing from his mere proximity, "you can help?" you ask, stepping backwards toward the female shower room.

"I promise," he's taking baby steps after you, gaze dark and focused on you, "I'm sure it'll have you sore tomorrow." he smirks, and your panties are surely soaked now.

he's followed you into the room, and you turn the shower knob, slowly steaming up the room—if it wasn't getting there already. "and what if I'm not sore tomorrow?" you ask, kicking off your sneakers and playing with the waistband of your shorts.

he throws his shirt across the room, revealing a toned stomach and happy trail down to his pelvis. "then you can call me, and we'll try something a little more," he pauses for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow with his words, "high intensity."

you drop to your knees, and haechans head spins when you're grasping at the material of his shorts. "I say no, but let's see if you can change my mind." you say in a tone as sexy and dirty as you can muster, so he pulls his shorts down to kick them off, and your jaw goes slack at the mere size of the bulge in his boxers.

he's teasing you now, letting you rub his thighs and dig your fingernails into the skin as he slowly reveals the tip of his cock. you're drooling as the red tip peeks over the fabric, and it just—keeps—going as he whips it out, so long and thick.

as soon as his boxers are fully removed, you immediately lick a fat stripe up his shaft, following a bulging and meandering vein up to his angry tip. he hisses at the contact, gripping one hand to your jaw, and the other around the base of your ponytail.

you lick his hole, collecting the beads of precum that drip there, before sucking just the tip into your lips. he moans so vocally and prettily, you have to squeeze your thighs together in order to keep yourself sane.

he guides you down his length, your mouth so full of his thick sex, and it's quickly hitting the back of your throat. you bob your head just like that, from tip to base, letting your throat take the assault at his mercy.

you fondle his balls, soft and maintained pubic hair between your fingertips, "fuck you're so good at this." he groans along to the sensation, and you moan in return.

he twitches in your mouth as you vocalize over his cock, and you pull off of him quickly. a long and wet strand of your spit and his precum connects your lip to his tip as you back away from it, so stiff and standing tall.

cursing again, haechan uses the hand that grips your ponytail to drag you to your feet. his lips smash against yours, not a care in the world for the taste of himself on your tongue. he's gripping your left breast over the material of your sports bra, and you pump his hard cock from where you stand.

it's so messy and wet, you're moaning into each other's mouths, and he fumbles with the sports bra over your chest, eager to get you just as unclothed as he is.

you back into the shower stream, now getting soaked with water without priority for your wet clothes. you remove the bra, and haechan admires what's been revealed underneath, immediately attacking your right nipple with kisses. he's sucking and nipping at the bud, kneading so hard at the left breast with fervor, he's surely to bruise it.

you cry out at the pleasure, wrapping both hands into his hair and tugging at the roots. growing impatient now, you remove your shorts and panties in one swift movement, tossing them away, and gripping haechan by the neck.

he peers up at you from your chest, a mischievous glint in his eye before descending lower. he spreads you open, lifting one of your thighs and instructing you to rest it on his shoulder.

with a fat lick, he takes you in from bottom to top, entrance to clit, getting a good first taste of you. his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he basks in the noise of your pornstar-esque moans.

"so fucking sweet." he sucks at your sex, wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub and tonguing at the entrance, shaking his head back and forth for your pleasure. you cry out at the sensation, eyes welling with tears as the warm water washes over your body.

he prods at your hole with a singular middle finger, before sliding it in effortlessly through your slick walls, and it doesn't take long until you're writhing in pleasure and he's pumping his digit in and out of you at high intensity.

it's washing over you all at once, and he's persistent with his licks, flicking his tongue over your clit at high speed, "don't stop!" you're chanting over and over again when you come undone over his chin.

he barely gives you a moment to catch your breath, cornering you against the shower walls, sucking on his own finger once, and sticking it into your mouth a second. your pussy is dripping with slick, all pink and abused, when he's teasing your entrance with his tip.

he pushes in, stretching your walls with a white hot burning sensation, "do you need a drink of water?" he asks sincerely, half of his length prodding into you, yet his round eyes are wide and peering into your own. "I hear you should stay hydrated during cardio." his genuine expression slowly turning devilish as he speaks.

"shut up and fuck me." you choke out, and he chuckles in response, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, and lifting your right leg around his waist.

he swings his hips back and forth, pistoning himself in and out of you at a pleasurable pace. while mouthing at your neck, "god, you feel so good." he's hissing and groaning as you clench your walls around him, and you feel nothing but euphoric when he toys at your clit with his free hand.

you're so close to cumming for a second time, when he pulls out of you suddenly, tugging you off of the wall and spinning your body around in order to hit it from the back. you sob at the loss of his fat member inside of you, whining for him to put it back in, and he's grinning from ear to ear.

he digs his fingernails into your hips, whilst you place both your hands over the shower walls for stability. he lines himself up before slamming back into your gummy walls, the both of you feeling impossibly better to each other than before.

harder and harder, he rocks into you, one hand leaving your hip in pursuit of your breast. he tugs at the nipple from behind, and you’re left defenseless with both hands on the walls.

"i'm so close," haechan notifies you, and you're fucking yourself off of the shower tiles in order to meet his thrusts, "can I fill you up?" he asks, and the question pushes you over the edge.

“god yes, fuck yes please!” you’re nearly screaming in pleasure as your convulsing pussy squeezes him harshly, and he growls at the feeling.

his thrusts are staggering, whole body shaking in ecstasy as he shoots white ropes of cum into you. he’s grasping at both cheeks of your ass, and lands a smack to the right one.

you’re both panting through the shower steam, and he fucks into you so slowly now, still milking his cock of every last drop, his cum still somehow pouring out of his tip and filling you up.

you can barely move when he finally pulls out, so empty and muscles so spent, you fear that you won’t be able to walk. haechans touch feels gentle now, ghosting your hip in order to turn you back towards him. “are you okay?” he asks, his round doe eyes that were once so dark and lustful, now a puppy dog brown.

you smile at him, pressing a kiss to his rosy cheek, “call you tomorrow?” and his expression suddenly mimics yours, a toothy grin playing at his lips.

when haechan enters his shared bedroom with johnny, the man wears nothing but a white bathrobe, and jumps up to greet him. “dude! where have you been?” his tone is half-sarcastic, half-serious.

haechan sets his gym bag onto the wooden floor, and jumps into bed, “nowhere.” he responds, also half-sarcastic, half-serious.

“did you talk to that girl?” johnny asks, and haechan pulls his phone out of his pocket in order to look disinterested. “yeah, she’s a real sweetheart.”

but johnny doesn’t let him get off that easily, “well I peeked into the mens showers to tell you I was leaving, but you weren’t there, so where’d you go?”

haechan turns over in bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin and smirking to himself. “just went out for some extra cardio, don’t worry about it.”

#whew #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan au #haechan x you #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck x you #donghyuck au #nct dream smut #nct127 smut #lee donghyuck smut

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technologyculturedneo · 1 year

Text

I Never Meant To Leave You Hurting.

Donghyuck ft Renjun

“Do you still love me? Because I never meant to leave you hurting, you need to know that.”

PAIRING(S). Ex-boyfriend!Haechan X Reader X Boyfriend!Renjun

SUMMARY. Once again, you get stopped by some boys looking for a street interview and your opinions on love. In the interview, flashbacks of your chaotic relationship with your ex-boyfriend Donghyuck hits your mind with memories. Doubts and thoughts circle your mind as you think about your current relationship with your new boyfriend Renjun and if you moved on too fast- and if you should’ve forgiven Donghyuck and given him a second chance.

You're sure there are stars in your eyes when looking up into Donghyuck's longing eyes. You want to feel as though you've got your emotions under check and that your heart is not pining for him- yet the depth of your eyes reveal your hearts longing for the being in front of you. You remember a time when you would always feel flattered, gushed over him and feel so much love radiating out of him. However now, you don't know how to feel. You're scared for certain. But you aren't scared of him, you're scared of your feelings towards him. Why is it, that those bitter sweet memories of your past together are lightening up? Why is it, that he's holding your hand right now and you don't feel hatred or disgust, but instead the pits of your stomach are mushing up by how warm he's making you feel? Why is it, that his hands that are playing with yours makes you feel warm? Why is it, that your ex boyfriend Lee Donghyuck is sitting right in front of you and you're not hating him?

You're looking at him anxiously, afraid of your feelings towards him.

It was never supposed to be like this, you were never supposed to be trapped in a coffee shop with him, or even in this type of predicament, especially after years. You told yourself that you’d never allow him in your life again, never again, yet you find yourself seated opposite him with his cold hands wrapped securely around yours...the way they used to. Reminding you that he's going to protect you, no matter what.

"Can we go back to us? I want us, to be an us again."

You feel your throat tighten by his sudden confession. “Dongh-”

"I love you."

Your heart feels vulnerable with him, you feel like you can even give up your soul. With the way his eyes fondly move between your eyes dropping to your lips. You’d always crawl back to him- and you didn’t want that...or at least you think that you don't. “Donghyuck, please don’t...”

“I failed you,” He acknowledges, keeping your hands in his, even as you lightly tug away. "I really failed you," His head drops to your hands in his. There used to be a time when your hands in his was the only validation you needed to feel loved, remembering how secured you used to feel in his hands breaks him.

How much you trusted him with your heart and even your life- is unlimited. You loved him, you were ready to even die in his hands all in the name of never letting him go and helping him.

He takes a breath, his eyes roaming around your insecure fragile face, looking into you...into your eyes that hold him on a high pedestal. He allows himself to take advantage of the fact that he’s got you all for himself. “I miss you. I know, it’s not what you want to hear, but I really do. I know you’re gone and I get that you don’t want to see me ever again, but I still have so much love that’s remained for you,”

He softly calls your name, lifting up your hands to his face as he places his lips on them. A soft kiss from his lips makes your heart skip beats.

“I need to hear, hear that you want me back. I wanna feel that you still... that you still want me. Everyone talks about you, about what a fool I was that I lost you, and now I can see that. I see it clearly and I miss you,”

Your eyes latch down to your hands and you shakily breathe out. You've always asked yourself, if Donghyuck ever stood in front of you and asked for your forgiveness, would you forgive him?

You'd immediately answer, no and never. Because you were convinced in your soul that he would never be the type of guy to come back to you. He always said that you would be the one to crawl back to him.

And just like the past, you’ve fallen for the way he calls your name and sweeps your feet with meaningless sweet nothings. And you want to crawl back to him. Especially when you look into his eyes and see that he's changed.

15 minutes ago...

"Hi, can I stop you for a moment? We just want to talk to you about some things, if you don’t mind?"

You look away from your phone to a young man blocking your path with a phone in his hand- positioned as if it's a mic. "I'm actually busy, sorry,"

"We won't take much of your time," The guy insists. "We just want to talk to you about some stuff and ask you some questions for a survey we're doing."

Geez. It’s those wannabe youtubers again. But why, why is it that you’re always a target for these young YouTubers who casually stop people on the street? Either way you try not to show disinterest as you see that he has another young guy by his side following him with a camera- not camera phone but real camera with a hairy looking ball underneath it, that probably is for the camera to block out sound.

"Yeah?" You lower your phone a giving them your attention, hoping that the faster this goes, the faster you can get back home. Giving the person your attention you quickly notice how his cautious face becomes more lively.

He looks immediately pleased and takes a quick moment to relax before clearing his throat. He must've tried stopping multiple of people which most likely declined or ignored him. You can't blame them- nowadays YouTubers seem to want to do impossible challenges- or TikTok current trends. And for some unknown reason, whether it’s because you look approachable or maybe because you don’t look like you’re in a rush- you always seem to be caught by them.

The previous weak, there was a guy called Mark who interviewed you for about 5 minutes and wanted to get your views on cheating. It wasn’t an easy topic, but you managed to pull through. Some days ago, a guy called Jaemin, a street photographer stopped you just so that he could ask about your street fashion. You didn’t wear anything out of the world class famous styles, but he somehow saw it fit to interview you. He even took photos of you. Regardless, you’re always a target. Even when you were in a park, another guy with a dashingly beautiful furred dog sat next to you and just asked advice from you. His name was Jeno and he wanted to know if he should return to his ex.

It was a tough topic, but you ended up giving him the universal advice of 'follow your heart and not your mind'.

Perhaps you should cut down on your evening strokes along the streets and actually wait for your boyfriend at home, it's not safe out there. Or maybe you should just decline these street interview questions. Simple and done. But you don't have the balls to walk away or actually say no to strangers who look really happy to have finally caught someone they can talk to.

"Let's just move over not to disturb people," He says while motioning to a less busy sidewalk on the other side.

"Cool,"

Moving over with them to a spacious side walk you notice, as anticipated, the guy with a phone as a mic brings out a little notepad and reads over it before hiding it behind his pocket again. "It's a pleasure to have you accept our little invitation. My name's Chenle and the guy behind the camera is my best friend Jisung, may we kindly get your name?"

You tell him your name feeling a little secure.

He smiles a mischievous smile causing you to laugh a little. "Nice to meet you. We're college students majoring in journalism and we just go around talking to people about different topics, would you be interested in answering some of our questions?"

You put your phone away in your back nodding your head. "Sure. That's actually a great degree. I have a degree in journaling and wouldn't mind helping you guys out. It's a tough world to enter in and we've all gotta help each other out with connections,"

“Really? That's cool," The guy behind the camera, Jisung expresses looking away from the camera acknowledging you. He’s got those reflective faces, where all his emotions are on full display. "We'll get your contact details after this if you wouldn't mind?"

"That would depend on how good your questions are," You tease making both the guys smirk out confidently.

"Alright lets get into it," Chenle nods his head placing his phone close to his mouth. You shift in closer paying attention to him. "Alright, so when I saw you walking, I immediately had a topic. Say it's cliché or whatever, but I feel like our generation specifically our youth now has problems with maintaining relationships because we lack the knowledge of love and what it should be. We have high expectations that it actually clouds out our vision of what it should be. Do you agree?"

"You got that topic when looking at me?" You chuckle lightly before puckering your lips together turning your eyes into his relaxed yet stern gaze. "That's an interesting observation you have there. I mean, love is love, so I agree."

"Yeah," he nods his head. "Love is love. Care to go deeper?"

'I think I love you.' He slowly caresses your back looking into your eyes.

"Deeper?" You chuckle blinking yourself out of the hazy memory that you want to forget. A voice you try to ignore. "Okay. Like, I believe that it's a deep topic and we can get misguided by various of sources of what it should be like, you know." As soon as you say that, as soon as those words leave your lips, you trigger a feeling so deep within that you stop talking for a bit.

Familiar eyes stare back at you and you remember being in the happiest of moments. Those familiar eyes in your head came back to haunt you. Laying in bed, bare and nude, holding onto to each other.

Your lips quirk up causing you to lean closer into his touch. 'Donghyuck I love you,'

'You're dick drunk and misguided,' He nods his head smiling. 'Sex isn't love.'

'No Dongy, love is love, it can also be sex,' You hum out when his lips, warm, take in your neck, you shift aside to give him more access while he dives in and places hungry kisses marks. 'Just like that,'

While nibbling and planting kisses, he mummers on your neck. 'Love is love? You're so fucked right now, it's why you're confusing the two,'

'Love. So what is love Donghyuck? And aren't you making love to me right now?'

'We're having sex. But I'm happy being inside of you,' he says his lips beginning to travel lower and lower again. 'I don't mind calling it love, or sex.'

"Love." You blink twice trying to get the feeling of his warm lips off your neck and his eyes- gazing eyes upon your features tenderly. You thought you knew what it was when you were with him, but now upon being asked, you have no answer.

What it love? Could it really just be sex or something deeper? Or maybe we’ve over analyzed it and put it on such a high pedestal. I mean Renjun has said it's an overly dramatic word to express desire.

"All I can say, is that, it's something we all want, need and probably obsess over. It's mystical, almost paranormal. But it’s sweet. It's something beautiful," You bite your lip a little as Renjun's lips tugging upwards comes to your mind.

Renjun draws closer to you with his hands gently moving over your shoulder. Coming closer to your defeated position on the floor, your eyes only look at his smile.

'It hurts now, but you'll heal sooner then later,'

Your eyes don't leave his gentle smile, even when his body encloses you in a warm hug, your thoughts think of his smile. The smile he has reminds you so much of how Donghyuck used to feel. 'I love him Renjun,'

'Love. Overly used and dramatic just to express desire. I don't know what it is, but I do know it isn't supposed to be abusive. He used you and sucked you of all you could be,'

Renjun whispers as you fully burry yourself in his embrace crying out when the tears well up in your eyes.

'It's okay. He's gone. He won't hurt you anymore.'

Right now, you can only think of Renjun's smile instead of Donghyuck, because it was the first time that Renjun smiled at you. Smiled at you for standing your ground and breaking up with Donghyuck.

He’s the same person to have witnessed your rollercoaster of emotions in your relationship with Donghyuck. From the beginning when you and Donghyuck hit it off, when you were all smiles, even when you had misunderstandings- he was there. He became a middleman when things started getting rocky between Donghyuck and you too. He was there when Donghyuck aimlessly became angry and would not see clearly, constantly fighting with you and even hurting you with pleasure.

Renjun was truly your only silver lining in a love that you thought was real. He helped you out of the cave Donghyuck forced you into and led you out to a bright place where love is supposed to be a mystery.

Chenle nods his head thoughtfully. "So you already had expectations of what it should be like?"

You must’ve been quiet for some time because when you look up Chenle has a smug look on his face. "You sound like you're dreaming,"

Clearing your throat, you shrug your shoulders with a little smile. "I mean, love is love. As a child I always thought that it's something so great. But I don’t know, expectations were higher, only to be crushed and told that it’s a strange and mysterious experience that only some can feel,”

"Yeah," You slightly grin recalling your parents and what they're love was like. "My parents were the ones who evoked those expectations. Of course they'd argue here and there and they'd make up- but their love always looked like something so sacred and untouched- it was mysterious and I wanted to experience that as well,"

"That's deep," Chenle nods his head. "Have you experienced it yet?”

“That’s something I think about everyday,” You chuckle. “But I like to think that I have. It’s not like my parents, but it’s really sweet,” Constant laughter with Renjun, solace moments being in his embrace and the security that after every argument you’d still come back into his arms with so much more love.

“Alright,” Chenle smiles peeking curiously at the camera. “Actually, now that you bring that up. Would you say that our parents and the older generation know more about the secrets of love, or maybe, do you think they were faking it all and keeping it under the wraps for the sake of staying in toxic relationships? Because you know, right now our laws are more open with all types of relationships. Couples can get a divorce, they no longer can stay for the sake of kids or family or whatever. They have choices now,"

“Wow you’re going that far and bringing the law? Okay," You nod your head smiling a little. "Uh the classical battle of old and young. I believe our generation has no peace or patience. That's just my cup of tea. I'd say that the older generation had more patience and wisdom. Say perhaps they were in an abusive relationship-" The image of Donghyuck blacking out and unleashing his anger out on you, only to stop midway and hastily apologize. "They had no where else to go and stuck it out. The more they stayed together they were able to resolve the matter and know each other's personality and how they'd react to certain things. I always keep in mind that in a relationship I'm living with someone else who has been raised differently, I'm living with someone else's child and they have traits that I like and others that I don't. And it's not like I want to romanticize staying if a relationship is toxic- and I don't like to encourage staying if it requires you to believe that you can change the person, no. I just like to keep in mind that theirs room for growth. And if I really take my time and not be quick to anger or judgement then I can stay regardless of the current circumstance. Older generation all the way,"

"I love how soft spoken you are," Chenle compliments with a charming smile. He begins reciting what I said in a mimicking sweet voice making me flustered. But as he speaks, a daunting voice echo’s in my head.

'Is there a reason you're mad with me?'

Donghyuck stays silent causing you to worry.

'Babe what's wrong? What did I do this time?'

He scoffs. 'Having an opinion.' Even with his eyes on the road you notice he rolls his eyes disapprovingly of what you did when you were with his friends.

'Why're you being so fussy? Everyone was having a good time and no one else was talking.'

'Geez Y/n.' He grunts irritatedly. 'Honestly speaking, do you need to have an opinion about everything? I don't care if everyone was having a good time, I wasn't. And it's all because of your voice. When we're home, I hear you you you, when we're out I hear you you you, do you not get tired of talking? Of hearing your voice? Fuck.'

You're taken aback by his burst of anger and turn to look out your window. 'Are you saying I should be quiet?'

'That would be great. Just shut up already.' That doesn't stop him from talking. 'Your voice can be pretty annoying you know.' Donghyuck complains turning into our street. 'I'd prefer you to speak less when in public, or just shut up all together. I'm tired of hearing your voice. You sound annoying as hell.’

"You're really intuitive," Chenle agrees suddenly and you snap your attention back to him. "Your words were food for thought and even debatable, like when you said this generation has no patience, I felt that. I thought of my mother too. If I can just say, my parents fought like crazy as if there was no tomorrow. Still they stayed together for our sake and now I can actually see that they get along like a working machine. My mum knows all the buttons to push and when to push it, my dad is aware of the things he does and how it affects him and her. If it were up to me, I could talk to you all day, you have interesting thoughts,”

That's not what Donghyuck would say- you find yourself thinking. He would tell you to shut up. But ever since these street interviews began, a lot of the things Donghyuck despised about you, you'd began getting praises for them.

Donghyuck said he hated how fragile and weak your heart was. Mark the YouTuber said he loved how you have a big and understanding heart.

Donghyuck hated the way you dressed. Jaemin complimented your style and your uniqueness.

Donghyuck complained that you never listened to him and we're selfish. Jeno thanked you for taking your time to listen and provide him with comfort.

Chenle is telling you that you have interesting views, but Donghyuck would strongly disagree and try to not get you feeling good about yourself and your thoughts.

Sometimes it just happens, his voice comes in your head or flashbacks find themselves in your memory. You try to not dwell on them, but ever since you’ve gotten in these street interviews you found yourself getting more reminders of the dark cave you were once in.

It’s irking because whenever the memories come, a piece of you, the one that never hated Donghyuck, that still had faith in him comes back. If you could see him now, despite all that he’s done to you, and after everything that Renjun has done, you know that you’d shamefully go back into his arms. And that’s what hurts you the most. The fact that you think that he deserves a second chance... well 67th chance..or rather infinite chances.

“This isn’t about you Chenle,” Jisung calmly reminds, bringing Chenle’s attention back to the interview.

“Oh yeah, it just felt like a real conversation. As I was trying to say, you know other people would differ, they'd say, like you mentioned abuse is abuse and you can't force yourself to stay. What do you think of that?"

You nod my head. "You can’t force yourself to stay, it’s true. In fact the circle of people who know you will do everything they can to push you out of that kind of relationship. But their are others who force people into it. So I get where they’re coming from, but in this case, don't get in a relationship. Don't get in and mess someone else up more and then leave. It affects the person more when you leave. That person will now enter another relationship and ruin it because of what they dealt with in previous relationships. That's them, but now for you, you will also enter another relationship wondering what went wrong in the previous relationship and how to change it. The more we break each other's hearts, we're actually diminishing what love really is and what it should be. It's like a rebound type of love where we try to convince ourselves that things would go differently if we did this or that,"

"True," Chenle nods instantly. "You're taking the questions right out my mouth. It's like you know what people want."

I laugh. "People just need to be loved. So of course one topic would lead into another opening,"

He nods his head. "I love your cup of tea and wouldn't mind you being our go to source, in a lot more interviews," he compliments but shakes his head getting back on track. You try not to frown by how odd that sentence sounds. Is it something that all interviewers say, or is it what the ones who have spoken to you say...talking to you as if you're the most interesting person ever. Weird. "With that said, you mentioned for people not to get into relationships and fuck everything up for the person. How would you suggest a person engages in a relationship then?"

"The power of friendship can go a long way. Sometimes before you even date, you just need to spend time with someone.” You say. “I wouldn't advice you to get in a relationship with someone who already struggles by themselves, be a supportive friend instead. I wouldn't advice that the butterflies in your stomach push you into a rushed relationship, but I'd advice you to hold it in until you are sure that you can't see yourself without the person. Ever. I also wouldn't advice obsessing over the person, just be friendly. It doesn't have to be a long time, but its reasonable if you spend a long time because you'll see habits and traits show up more when you're both comfortable with each other."

'Where does it hurt?' Renjun asks, taking a seat next to you on the couch. You point your heart and he bends down kissing your chest before placing his beautiful lips on your eyes- his lips kissing your tears away. He sits normally again after some time still embracing you. 'It will get better soon,'

It's been some months since you broke up with Donghyuck and started living with Renjun. He's been extremely sweet, kind and patient. He told you that you could stay with him while looking for an apartment, he didn’t want you to rush or even have too much to worry about, so he suggested that you stayed with him. He also advised for you to stay with him just incase Donghyuck would come again. Renjun just wanted for you to get your head out of ‘Donghyuck’s ass’. And so when living with him, when he’d go to work, you’d find yourself thinking about Donghyuck. Sometimes it was hard to let go. Sometimes it was hard not to cry when you thought of him. Your heart aches when you think of how he turned out.

When you were kids, he'd push you in the sand pit, lock you in a headlock or pin you underneath him and his mum would say it's cute, but now when older and he pushed you to the ground trapping you underneath him as he had his way with you and pulled your hair- would his mum still say it's cute? You think of these things often when Renjun would leave for work. But when he came back to his house, you’d be in a shivering state with tears pouring out of you like a rainfall.

'Aren't you mad at me?'

'Mad at you?' He asks quietly causing you to look up at him. 'No.' he shakes his head. 'Why would you think I'm mad?'

'Because you come home late every night and instead of resting up, you're taking care of me, listening to my annoying voice that goes on and on abut things that aren't interesting to you... I feel like a burden,' You mumble hiding your face in his chest.

He pats your head. 'You've never been a burden to me. I'm tired yes, but I'd never get tired of you Y/n. How could you even think that?' Cry as much as you need to, say what you want to say, get it off your chest, I don't mind being here for you,'

'You'll get tired,' you mumble out.

'Never.' he shakes his head.

'Then I'll get tired,'

'I'm hoping you'll get tired of him and believing you are of less importance to me,'

From his behavior to his sincerity, you can spot the mild difference between Renjun and Donghyuck. Donghyuck never had time for your tears, pretended he couldn't see or hear you cry. But Renjun, despite not seeing him for almost half a day, when he was around he'd make time for you, always. 'Your parents must be so proud of you, they raised you right.' You comment.

The room becomes silent. He clears his throat rubbing your shoulder as he stares into the distance. 'Both my parents are drunkards. My mum's a whore and my dad manages her. They had me by accident and barely cared for me, well, they cared that I sold my body to perverts who wanted a young child. I ran away as soon as I got the chance.' He sighs swallowing the bitterness. 'So much for being proud and raising me right. If I went back to them, I'm sure they'd drug me and sell me off to some rich old lady looking for a sugar baby.' Renjun chuckles darkly.

'I'm so sorry.' Your mouth instantly utters. 'I'm so sorry Renjun. I didn't know, I didn't mean to intrude. I'm sorry.' Your mouth continuously apologises as you sit up bowing your head. He crosses his legs and rests his hand against the couch while lightly patting your arm.

'I wanted to share it with you, to let you know that despite our past relationships we can still turn out to be decent human beings.' he states. 'Besides, it's not your fault. I turned out pretty great if you say so. I mean, I've got my weaknesses here and there, but you've always trusted my verdict...and that made me feel useful in a good way, not the way my parents forced me to believe. We're friends who help each other, so thank you,'

It's your first time hearing him talk about himself so much. And in this moment, your eyes are hooked to him.

"No for real, it'd be an honor to get you in a lot of our discussions. Its a pleasure talking to you and listening. You give out actual answers and things to talk about," Chenle faces the camera. "Finally a considerate human being,"

"Well, I'm talking from experience. When unfortunate circumstances happen they tend to make you think about relationships differently. However they groom you to be a better version of yourself."

You chortle covering your face for bit trying to clear your head a bit, from the distracting face coming to mind. Donghyuck versus Renjun... your heart seems to weigh the two together. You're afraid that maybe...you're using Renjun to get over Donghyuck. And that maybe, somehow you might be ready to forgive him. But to get back with him, is surely impossible...right?

A prime example would be when you told Renjun it was okay when he asked to kiss you

"You've still got time right?"

It's not everyday he comes home drunk, but amongst the first few months when you were living with him, he came back home late then usual smelling like alcohol. You should've done something. Instead of making him seat and listen to him blabber about how much he likes you, you should've given him water to drink or some air to cool off. But no, your heart fell into a trap of being naive all over again. Renjun was drunk and confessing how much he liked you.

You sat down and listened to him talk- the same way you did when Donghyuck first came home drunk. You thought he just needed you to listen to him. So when Renjun asked to kiss you, you said yes absentmindedly. One thing led to another and before you know it both your clothes were off. You were so used to Donghyuck having sex with you even though he was drunk out of his mind - that it slipped your mind that Renjun wasn't the same as Donghyuck.

He despised himself the next morning when he woke up and saw you bare next to him.

You blink twice, getting yourself out of the illusion. You check your watch and nod your head. "It depends, I should be going soon, my boyfriend will arrive soon. But I'm sure he won't mind,"

"Your boyfriend won't mind? He won’t mind two dudes with his girl?" he questions while pointing to himself and Jisung and you nod your head despite his confusion. "So you're in a relationship right now and you said your answers would determine if you're in love right?"

You nod your head giving a smile. "Yes,"

"You know if it doesn't work out, I wouldn't mind," He flaunts out confidently.

You simply shake your head with a smile. "I'm very much in love with my boyfriend, thank you very much,"

His frowns playfully and sulks with a smile. "Alright, which leads me to my question, if you don't mind sharing a bit on your relationship,"

"As best as I can,"

He nods his head. "It's a series of questions, and it might make you feel uncomfortable,"

"Uncomfortable? Urm, okay let's see where this goes,"

He takes in a deep breath and turns to your direction again. "From your spaced out answers I pretty much guessed you were deep in thought about some things. So if you don't mind me asking, were you thinking of your boyfriend? Because from your previous statement of unfortunate circumstances, I think I was a bit confused. Does the unfortunate circumstances have something to do perhaps with an ex lover?"

Nervously running your fingers through your hair, you shyly smile and cross your legs. "Well at first I was only thinking of my boyfriend and then you mentioned abuse and all that and I thought of my previous boyfriend...my ex."

"My bad." Chenle's eyes widen and he looks concerned. "You said you speak from experience, so did he abuse you?"

"That question is a bit," You nervously chuckle ignoring his empathy.

"I'm sorry, I'll change topics." He nods his head and continues on. "What were some of the traits that you hated in your previous relationship?"

He didn't change the topic, he worded the question differently trying to prompt you to answer.

'You know, you don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable.' Renjun speaks up quietly after getting himself on the chair shifting away from you. But you hold onto his hand. It's been some days after your sexual encounter and he's been very agitated and mindful of how he touches you. Whether he remembers confessing or not, you'll never know because you've barely been in close contact with him.

'I appreciate your effort to get me in on the dating world again. But honestly I have my eye on someone,'

His ears perk up and he turns his head to you.

'And this person has told me to not rush into relationships mindlessly. After all love is supposed to be magical.' You quote his words back to him.

He sighs and places his bowl of fruit down. 'We had sex. I was barely conscious and took advantage of you. I don't want to be like Donghyuck who had mindless sex with you. I don't want to be like my parents and build off on sex. I want to be myself and keep to my word. The moment we had sex, my word was broken. And that was to only make love with someone I really like, not to have sex. I really like you, we've gotten to know each other so much more over the last months that I'm convinced in my heart and I'm sure that I like you. I'm sure that I've always liked you. Even when you were with Donghyuck I liked you. I still do. But I'm not perfect. And I'm afraid that if I can't keep up with my word, I might end up hurting you. I've got bad flaws and weaknesses. If I dare compare myself to Donghyuck, I'd say that I'm exactly like him when I'm drunk and not sober.' His eyes glisten with so much emotion.

'You're not like him. You're not like your parents.' You draw closer to him holding onto his hand. 'You're your own unique self. I believe you won't hurt me. I know you won't hurt me. I like you too. And you've made me feel magical.'

He smiles softly. 'Are you sure you want to be with me? It's a long leap down.'

'I'm sure.' You smile brightly.

'No turning back, now,' He mentions. When you smile, his grin gets wider and unlike all the times where Donghyuck and you would make up and he'd kiss you to show how much he truly loved you, Renjun is different and in his difference he doesn't dive in for a kiss, instead he has his hands around you again. After some days without feeling his constant hold, you feel safe and secured. Especially now that you're his.

You suck in your lips looking upwards and nodding your head feeling the wound open up again. A wound. A wound that doesn't seem to want to be closed. As well as a face that doesn't want to get out your head.

Being with Renjun has really made you feel mature over certain things. So with bravery, as Renjun once said, you speak up. "Some of the traits I hated in my previous relationship. Lies. I hate it with a passion. I hate being lied to and my ex boyfriend constantly lied. And it's not that he lied in the middle of the relationship, he lied from the very start. I don't even know if there was a moment of honesty in our relationship. He made me feel like I could change him, he'd always say he's changing for the better but it was a lie. He got worse. He would manipulate my words and turn them against me, it was like a psychological warfare inside that house. Verbal abuse and even physical at times if he was really drunk." You pause after saying that. You bite your lips anxiously peeling off the skin that's lingering. "He started cheating on me with a girl who he told me was his sister at the beginning of our relationship. He began picking me apart saying all sorts of comments about my appearance. And I'd believe him because I was with him for so long, you know in all those fights we'd make up in the most quickest way known to man, sex, and I was all head over heels again and quick to believe that I am indeed changing him because wow he came to apologize to me himself instead of his friends pushing him, he'd wipe my wounds instead of letting his friend do it, he'd say I'm beautiful and buy me these big bouquets of flowers-" You choke on your words a bit and clear your throat as you feel a big sting on your throat. You can't even believe how brutally honest your words have come out. It's like you're speaking to a therapist instead of two boys barely finished with college. But like word vomit, it doesn't stop coming out and you're not so sure why you're not allowing yourself to stop. "Only because he'd feel guilty when I'd smell a feminine perfume or I'd see an item that didn't belong to me. But a trait I hated the most from him, is how he'd sweet talk his way back into my life. The lying talk. I hated how he changed without actually changing. I hated how he said he loved me and still hurt me. It took a lot out of me to finally break up with him, because I was so convinced that I wasn't in a toxic relationship, I was convinced that he loved me and that he'd change... If it weren't for one of his friend's... my current boyfriend, I would have never left him. I'd sink in the dark hole he made me put myself in." You take a deep breath and shrug your shoulders. Despite saying it all out loud, your heart aches. Fuck him. Fuck Donghyuck.

"I'm happy you got out of that relationship. He sounded like a real asshole," Chenle shakes his head. "I'm sorry if that was tough for you to say, especially so publicly. It sounded like a mouthful and very hurtful."

'Did I really do a good job?' you ask Renjun still crying on his shoulder. 'I feel so empty and hollow. He said no one will ever love me the way he did. That he was doing me a favor for my shitty personality. Renjun... I think I made a mistake. I need to call him back.'

"It's okay," You smile, showing that you've moved on. It's hard, but you're sure that you've moved on. Even though his words hurt you at times and affect your relationship with Renjun, it feels good to confess out loud and actually feel that you've made it through the most toughest times in your life.

'Don't do that. Don't bury yourself in him again, thinking that he is your god.' Renjun sways your body side to side his hand patting your head as you sit on the floor of the room Renjun let you stay in. 'You did a good job okay? You're free from his words. I don't want you to think of them anymore. Let them out of your system, you can do that through painting or even writing, or even just talking out about them.'

"And your boyfriend. Your current boyfriend - oh wait, how long were you dating your ex?" Chenle asks.

"About 4 years. We were together for the whole of my college life and when I graduated." You nod your head as their eyes widen. "A lot of making up and fighting was done."

"Damn, you stayed in that bitch." Chenle mumbles and switching the topic. "What about your current boyfriend? How long have you dated him, you mentioned that he was your ex's friend and that you knew him, so how long have you known him for and how long have you guys been dating?"

"Uhm, the same time I met my boyfriend he introduced me to his friends and that's how I met my current boyfriend. So also, 4 years. But we've been dating for about 2 months now," You grin joyously. "It'll be 3 months in 4 days, so next week Wednesday,"

"That must be exciting," Chenle smiles. "Are you hoping it'll last?" You nod my head. "I don't want to sound tacky or intrude especially since you seem like a really honest person. But don't you think going after his friend is kind of...manipulating? I mean since they're friends, do you still see your ex?"

"Truly speaking I hear your question and I'm not trying to play the victim card." You say and zone out a bit. "But he has really been there for me. After breaking up with my boyfriend, I didn't jump on him, in fact I took time to meditate and find myself again. A full year had passed without me involving myself in relationships, so, whether you think it's tacky or manipulative, it doesn't matter because I'm happy now. To answer your other question, I don't see my ex. My boyfriend does, from time to time, but I don't,"

"I'm actually curious, If you don't mind. How come he was the only one who helped you? Did his other friends not know about what your ex did to you?"

"I barely saw his friends." You say. "I was too 'boring' for them. And times I did see them, I kept a happy front. You know, the face you do when you don't want people to know what's happening behind doors. If I had any visible bruises, I'd lie about them... However...some believed and others weren't so convinced, but they didn't do anything."

Reminds you of the first time Renjun's doubts about you and Donghyuck's relationship began.

He came by to drop a notebook Donghyuck had borrowed him, but he stayed much longer because he heard Donghyuck and you yelling at each other- Donghyuck was strongly accusing you and you were heavily defending yourself. According to Renjun, it was the first time he heard you yelling and crying. It was also the first time he heard Donghyuck outside of his bubbly personality be so...'raw'.

He left before he could hear anything else. It's only a few days later when he came by again to check up on you, he saw you massaging your bruised cheek. He asked what happened and you lied that you fell on your face and when he saw your arm and chest marks- he wasn't blind to what his friend had been doing. He knew that something sinister was going on in your relationship and by himself he became the middleman and would intervene between Donghyuck and you whenever you sought out for him.

"What traits does your boyfriend have that you don't like?" Chenle asks.

"He's literally a trying saint. He's so, genuine about everything and sincere. He's really on the nice side of the spectrum. However he still gets mad, or annoyed and even grumpy like a normal human being. But he's passionate, and so all his emotions are to the full. So when he's mad, he'll get fully mad, when he's not in the mood, I can clearly see. When he's irritated, there's this mood around that it's almost tangible. However I've delt with worse, so it doesn't phase me as much.. One thing I dislike, or find it a trait to watch out for before it gets worse, is his drinking. Oh my soul does he drink. He could drink for a whole community. He doesn't drink often, but when he does, it's severely a moment that I know I need to step back."

"Ahhh," Chenle sympathizes with you. "It's always the drinking. Not that it's something negative, but it seriously is a pain when it becomes an addiction. Some people aren't themselves once they become slaves to drinking. Drinking actually gives you so much to deal with. I'm actually surprised that in the same sentence you said you're boyfriend's on the nice spectrum and then went on to saying he's a potential drunkard. Don't you see that as a red flag? Not that I'm speculating, but it's dangerous."

You nod your head thoughtfully. For some reason, you feel that as a jab much more than a concern. "He's working on it. He's had a rough past, so the fact that he's acknowledged his problem and is making an effort by himself to change, I feel secured that he won't turn into a red flag."

Chenle nods his head with a little smile. "As you mentioned that your current boyfriend is on the nice side, would you say that girls prefer being with good nice guys other than guys who are more ambitious?"

Your eyebrows raise up in shock a little. "More ambitious?Sounds like you're taking sides." You chuckle alongside him. "But to answer you, I don't really know about other girls, but with me... My boyfriend's an angel, he's really good to me, he's a whole transition from my ex and I like that a lot. I like that there's not a lot of negative traits to worry about. I like that I can finally feel... something."

"So there's absolutely nothing you hate about him? Nothing at all?" Chenle is surprised and shakes his head. "There must be something, and if you really say there's nothing then it's most likely the sex is bad,"

This makes you laugh out loud and you instantly shake your head trying to disagree. "You really wanna break him down."

Chenle doesn't say it, but he's contemplating on whether your boyfriend is a rebound or is truly sincere. "I wanna see if he's worth taking a chance on. Everyone has flaws, some worse then others, but everyone has something. Okay, can I ask this. Are you with your boyfriend because he's nice, or because you quote on quote love him?"

“That’s an odd way to word the question,” You state but still tilt your head in thought.

Are you with Renjun because he’s nice or because you're in love with him? Well that's not even a question. You're certainly in love with him. He just happens to be nice.

“I don’t know about other girls, but I can say that it’s nice being in a relationship which feels safe rather then chaotic. So yes, I'm with him because I love him, I love the person he is. He's nice and that's a real flex many people can't have.”

“Alright,” He nods his head. “How about we go on to other traits you might like. To be specific I'm talking about sex. Let's talk about your sex life, if that's okay with you," You snort out a laugh just as his eyebrows raise suggestively. "For most couples aside from being spoilt, the sex is the deal breaker." Chenle sneakily comments again hiding his smile, but failing when his lips raise. "Is that the case for you? Just be free and expressive. We're all grown adults and mature. Talk about it like it's nothing. I could even share my sex life with you if you want,"

Your cheeks instantly flash red but your lips produce other words. "You just really wanna know about the sex, don't you?"

"It's a really serious question though. In some cases it's a deal breaker," Chenle laughs. "So?"

You sigh, taking into consideration that their could be many people watching this. They could also edit it in weird ways if your answers aren't good enough, and that's something you don't want. With unknown courage you sigh out and place your hands in your pocket. "The sex is also different. With my ex, I mean he had a very dominant personality and would just dominant over me... With my boyfriend now, it's like I'm more of... I mean, we're very conservative people but when we're on the bed it's like a switch. Sometimes I'm the one who's cluelessly on top and being... dominant?" You chuckle being flustered. "And he's more submissive and letting me do what I want before he takes over, so it's a switch."

Hopefully that's good enough, for it not I be edited.

"He doesn't spoil me rotten like my ex. My ex was more intimate and liked going overboard to get pleasure, he was really kinky and would just like to try everything- when I didn't even want to do those things." You try not to evoke any bitterness, but your face shows how much you dislike thinking about sex with Donghyuck. "My boyfriend is very soft, so sex is more like love making, something we're taking slow instead of doing all these kinks and stuff. I don't know if I answered your question," you slightly laugh returning back to normal.

"Your answer was dignified." Chenle charmingly wiggles his brows, however his eyes slightly panic when your eyes go onto your ringing phone.

It's Renjun.

He sent a text.

"Oh man, I can see that you have to go. But one more thing we need you to do for us. On our show, before we close up, we do this thing where we'd call your significant other and maybe ex, just to see if your words were true," He says and quickly adds. "I'm not saying I don't believe you, but for the sake of our viewers who always have opinions and say this is staged and stuff, we let you call your ex-"

"You want me to call my ex?" You ask in confusion the smile dying from your lips just as your eyes leave the message box Renjun sent to peer with deep confusion into Chenle's eyes. "For what? To call, I can call my boyfriend but not my ex. That's crazy."

"Truthfully whenever I put couples in awkward positions where they have to explain a bad experience in their relationship, I feel guilty for letting them reminisce on past relationships. So a way of making up, I try to make the person I'm interviewing make-up or even just leave on peaceful notes."

"I'm not getting it. But despite what you're saying, I'm not gonna call my ex. Why not call my boyfriend instead-"

You're about to call on Renjun's number, but Chenle nervously chuckles quickly placing his hand on your phone sliding it down. "I'm a peaceful guy and don't believe people should have enemies. You know. And since you've started dating his friend after some months, I feel that it wouldn't be a problem to just not leave things on a sour mode between you and your ex."

"This is just a weird turn of events. Uhm, I do believe that if I wanna make up, I can do it on my own terms, not for your viewers." You scratch your head still trying to be polite. It now seems strange how he’s paying more attention to your ex. "And I said it before, but it really feels like this is all in favour of ex's. You're taking sides here. First of all, after breaking up with my ex I spent an entire year by myself. And only started dating my boyfriend 2 months ago, so it's not like I moved on fast. It was a long process of healing... trying to heal and not falling for stupid words again. And secondly, I don't have his number anymore. I wouldn't want to keep it even if we would mysteriously become friends again. Which I doubt. I don't want any form of relationship with him ever again. The only thing, I'd perhaps want from him is an apology, but that's not gonna happen because I don't have his contact details."

Chenle looks to the camera and back at you with an unknown look on his face. "What’s his name?"

“We can find him for you,” Jisung looks from behind the camera, concern in his eyes. Staring at the two boys you sigh. “And if you want a private moment, we can blur out his details for you,”

You're confused. Anger is slow when it's building in you, but you can feel it peeking.

"There's no going back now," You hear Chenle whisper.

Not wanting to argue this pointless argument you let out his name. “His name is Donghyuck. Lee Donghyuck,”

His name leaves your lips, and for some reason, a nervous chill runs down your spine. The mere fact of talking to Donghyuck... No. This can't happen.

Chenle opens up his Instagram searching up the name. While he's searching, your heart beat begins to speed up and fear is wedged in you.

The last time you spoke (barely spoke) to him was on the day of your breakup.

He said a lot of things that tore you from inside.

Words that would wake you from your slumber and make you wonder if really you made the right decision, or sometimes you would look into the mirror and hate yourself because everything he’d say was true.

He'd say you were a coward, worthless, heartless and a big baggage of vulnerabilities.

Already being given everything you wanted from an early age, experiencing love from family and friends, and then hearing all these negatives about yourself from someone you truly fell for, made you realize that truly you're not all roses and pearls. When you took the decision to break up with him and forced yourself to go on with the breakup despite his words, you thought you did something right.

As he left your life, you wanted nothing more except to have him back in your life. Even though it hurt you being with him, there were times when he’d look at you with generous eyes, even though it was a long time ago he did love you.

No one held a gun to his head to make him say those words, from the depths of his heart he knew he loved you.

He was just not in the right state of mind.

And that's why you feel fear. Because you fear, that he could still be in the wrong state of mind, or worse...in the right state of mind.

Trying to reach out to him right now, feels terrifying because you don’t know what mood he’s in. There’s a chance he might not even care, or he'll hold your name up as the most hated person or maybe he’ll ignore your breath on the call.

You don’t know what it’d be like to speak to him again, to hear his voice, his voice that has only been on repeat in your head. Knowing how you ended things, you only have fear that he’ll answer with so much hate.

“I don’t really care if you blur it or not, I just want to be given a chance to cut the call if he says anything that I don’t like.” You stand beside Chenle not giving an option of what you'll do. Even though all you want to do is leave.

You can leave. No one is stopping you.

But...you stay.

For a reason of chance.

What will it be like to hear, his voice, Lee Donghyuck's voice again?

Watching Chenle type out the name over his keyboard before a suggestion pops up with the name ‘Haechan’, your eyebrows furrow.

“Wait,” Chenle shuts his eyes for a moment peeking at Jisung. “Haechan?” Chenle shows the phone to Jisung before he shows it to me. “Is this your ex?”

Looking at the screen into the eyes you once had so much love for, you nearly stumble back in fear. For so long, you’ve only thought of him through the eyes of your memory that you forgot what it’s like to actually look into his eyes. His sharp dark brown eyes stare back at you with so much raw energy. To think, that your heart beats softly instead of furiously when you just look at his picture is what makes you scared. All the times you spent together hits you so hard like an ocean crashing into shore. His smile that provided you with so much hope and peace, his reassuring hold on you that you would never ever find a guy like him, the way he was so soft to you that you allowed him to have all your firsts, his kindness, his tenderly ears that would always listen to you- you press your lips together.

It’s him for sure. Seeing his eyes and his warm gentle yet so sharp features remind you of how much he has grown. He looks much more straightforward then in the past. In the past he always had a smile on his face, but now he's structure seems so confident and strong. You could even say he looks like a fuck boy.

Although he looks so different in the picture, your mind can’t comprehend how you're seeing his face on a phone screen right now.

No way.

There’s no way that this isn’t planned. "This isn't a coincidence."

If you're seeing his face now, it means that there’s a gateway that’s leading you to... him again.

And you don’t want to walk through that gate.

First it was that interviewer Mark, then it was Jaemin and then Jeno... now it's these two street interviewers Chenle and Jisung.

No way it's a coincidence.

Something is happening.

“This is planned right?” you ask with uncertainty looking at Chenle. “You guys set me up right?”

“No-”

“Don’t lie to me. There’s no way in hell that after all the time I’ve been away from him that I’m suddenly seeing his face." You instantly feel guarded. "Even my boyfriend doesn't talk or bring him up, so now how come after a year, I'm seeing his face again?"

Chenle remains silent, his lips in a tight seal. His eyes glance to Jisung before Jisung slowly puts the camera down. Chenle sighs out and his face shows one of being caught- it's also on Jisung's face. "Okay hear me out," Chenle starts. "We're not actually YouTubers. We're journalist students yes, and we're also doing research,"

"Research?" Your answer is dead sharp and you don't seem like you're in any mood to entertain them anymore. "You expect me to believe that?"

"It's true," Jisung inputs himself looking down. "We're sorry for lying to you."

"We just wanted to help our friend out. He really wanted to find you,"

"To apologize," Jisung slowly tells.

When Chenle says friend, your heartbeat instantly skips a beat. And when Jisung says to apologize, you know that it's 100% Donghyuck. You don't know how you know it's him, but you know it.

You sigh out.

"I'm done here."

Turning around to leave, not wanting to entertain this any longer, your legs are stilled on the spot, just as your eyes reflect to you a being you've been far from for so long. Your heart freezes just as the tears form beneath your eyes. Just as sharp as his features where on the phone, you can see for yourself that he's gotten more raw.

Dressed in all black looking like a nightmare of a dream you can't help but let your feet step back. "No." You shake your head breathing out with a raspy voice. His eyes, dark brown and remorseful look back at you and he steps forward. "No." You shake your head breathing out when he steps forward again.

He calls your name and that's enough for you to break down in tears which you try to hide. "Please-"

"I said no, I don't want this-" You hold yourself from breaking down but when he's close enough to you and he's about to touch you, you flinch and immediately pull back from his hands. "Donghyuck, I don't want you-" you choke up on your tears shutting your eyes.

"Please..." He whispers again, causing pain across your soul, especially when his arms gently wrap around your frame.

You're resisting, but it's weak.

You can feel your heart beating fast and his warmth and smell sipping into you. You feel dizzy in his grasp that you find yourself melting into him and letting your balled fists rest against his chest as you cry out.

"Donghyuck let me go please," You whisper out. "I don't....You hurt me and you're here. You can't just do that, you can't come back and make me cry again. Donghyuck I hate you so much right now." All this being said as your voice breaks reflecting your tears and pain.

"I know," You hear his voice, calm and tender.

You can feel it.

You’re falling for him again.

Present time

Sitting across from Donghyuck in the little diner that you two set on to eat, you can’t help but feel so small. His eyes are on you, his two hands nervously and slowly rubbing on each other just hoping that you place your hands on the table again.

But you don't want to. Not after what he said.

The tears try to come to surface, but you force them down. "Donghyuck I'm with someone else." Your eyes don't look up again. "My heart is with someone else."

"I don't believe it. I can't believe it. Because if it were true, you'd be looking into my eyes." Donghyuck's voice is so beautiful and soft. Your ears having a hard time hearing him after such a long time. "I was afraid that you'd tell me you have another. That there's someone else by your side. I was hoping it wouldn't be true because you know Y/n, I love you. I didn't act the way I should've, no, I've caused you pain and I've reflected on it. But I need you. Y/n please look at me."

You shake your head.

"Do you not miss being together with me? Do you not miss my voice? Because I miss yours. I miss listening to you, I miss embracing you and the way you'd do it too whenever I was down. Just once more, please give me a chance. I lost you and I'm a fool for that. I'm sorry, Y/n please I'm sorry,"

That makes your heart yearn. You close your eyes. Not wanting to see him...not wanting his words and face to team up to destroying you.

"I was a fool, and I can't stand it. Please come back to me," Donghyuck begs. "I promise I'm better now. I promise that I'll treat you right. All the time spent without you has only made me realize how much I need you. Please Y/n. I'll never leave you alone again. Please..."

"You've been awfully quiet," Renjun whispers behind you. He leans over the couch trying to get a look at your face. "Your silence is killing me. What's wrong?"

You shake your head with a little smile. "Nothing. I'm just really tired. Today was a long day,"

His lip tugs upwards causing his side dimple to appear. His lips press gently on your cheek and he gets off the couch. "I'll set up the bed for us then,"

"Cool," You mummer watching him walk to the dim hallway watching him disappear. Bringing your phone out, your eyes latch onto the opened message left by a recent contact you saved.

Lee Donghyuck:

Have you decided?

If you give me a chance, I'll make the hurt go away. I promise

"Don't do it."

Your head spins around rapidly to the only other voice in the house with you. Renjun leans by the wall with his head down. Despite him once dressed in his pajamas, he looks like he's about to go out, in his attire. A white short sleeved baggy shirt and his hands wedged in his black sweatpants. He doesn't look up, however you can most likely guess his facial structure just from the tone of his voice. He's upset.

"That man hurt you to the point where you couldn't get up again. He took your smile, your voice and your strength." Renjun finally looks up into your weary eyes filled with tears threatening to spill. "He shattered your confidence and broke you mentally. I'm not saying I healed you, but I'm saying I've seen you smile again, laugh, and have seen you turned into an even better version of yourself. Don't let him break what you've built again."

"Renjun..." You blink lightly, not wanting the tears to slip from your eyes.

"The moment I saw Jeno walk up to you in that park. I knew that Donghyuck was going all in. Trying to sweetly present himself again back into your life." He runs his hand through his hair. "Judging by your silence ever since you came back from your walk, I'm guessing you saw him. He made a whole bunch of promises, saying the right words of change, telling you how much he misses you or that you're better off with him. Am I right?"

Silence. As your head bows down and your thoughts run with the wind. Although you know that what Renjun is saying is true, you seriously can't help but think about the promises Donghyuck made. About how he said he's better now. That he has changed. He's ready to commit to me and...love me.

"I'm going out to the bar."

At that your head snaps up when catching him place a black beanie over his head as he makes his way to the door. "Baby please don't go, please just stay with me... Please don't leave me at this time," Your tears don't even hide themselves as they pour out your eyes. Frantically getting off the couch and running to his side by the door, your body surges into him from the back as you tightly hold onto his body. "If you leave my thoughts won't make sense again."

"And this is why I need to go out." Renjun whispers gently turning around to wrap you in his arms just as you hold onto him tighter. "If I stay, I'll be doing the thinking for you. When in reality," His arms detach from your body causing you a wave of panic. "You already chose him."

You shake your head trying to hold onto his shirt. "Baby, Renjun I didn't-"

"Right, you just need to think about it,"

"That's not true-"

"So what do you need to think about?"

"Just...just...Renjun-'

"Just what?"

"Stop pressuring me." You whine.

"Stop pressuring you?" His eyes narrow in irritation. "I'm going-"

"Renjun don't go-"

"I'm not staying here while you contemplate on how to leave me-"

"Stop saying that!"

"Oh for the love of- Y/n! I gave you everything that I had. I fell in love with you! For hell's sake I love you but now I feel so fucking stupid-"

"No!"

"Just admit it, I was a rebound. I'm a rebound-"

"Renjun it's not true I also love-"

"I was just a fool for allowing myself to fall for you, while you were waiting for him to fucking be better-"

"Renjun-"

"You know where to find me-"

"Stop-"

"Do you love me!?"

"N-Yes!"

"Do you love him!?"

"Y-No! Renjun stop!"

"Let me go Y/n-"

"Renjun please-"

"Y/n!" Renjun snaps. He pants out groaning out when seeing your blotched crying face. He sighs running his hand over his face before removing his cap and placing it in his pocket. He bends down a bit while holding onto your arms. "I'm sorry for yelling. I'm sorry."

"Renj-"

"But please." He shuts his eyes. "If I stay here any longer I'll end up making you leave me faster-"

"Babe-"

"I'll be back. I promise."

"Please don't go." You grip his shirt. "Babe, if go, you won't come back sober."

"That's the point."

You let your eyes do the talking hoping he won't go. But what you fail to see, is his own broken eyes. But he lets go of your arms placing his beanie over his head.

"Call me if you need me."

Once the door closes, you spend about a minute staring at it. Your trance is broken when your phone rings. You sigh out knowing who it is.

And once you pick up your phone reading the contact name, you place the phone over your ear.

"Hey," He greets.

"Now's not a great time-"

"Do you still love me? Because I want you to know that, I never meant to leave you hurting,"

You sigh out. You've been through a lot with Donghyuck. It was sweet in the beginning before it turned bitter. And as bitter as it got, you couldn't stand what was in your mouth anymore and your throw up. You've learnt how to heal with Renjun. He helped you as you embarked on the journey to heal yourself, while you healed- your heart found the impossible to be possible as you fell in love again.

Today's interview made you see that. That despite all that you went through with Donghyuck, if you turn over a new page, you can hopefully have a better healing relationship. However, the person who's helped you heal asked for nothing from you except that you take your time to heal.

Not even cutting the call, you quickly run (and with your bare feet) you pull open the door and run outside. "Donghyuck I'm sorry, but right now is not the time,"

"Y/n-"

You shake your head leaping with your toes as you move forward along the night lit sidewalk. "Donghyuck please. Not now."

You drop the call, carefully trudging along the sidewalk and avoiding any passing cars and you cross the street. Usually the bar was a ten minute drive, but on foot, and by shortcut it took about five minutes. You're panting and gasping for air by the time you cross the road to where the bar is. You're stunned that as you appear, Renjun's car is already there. You notice his stiletto shadow still in the car and you smile. Getting close to the car, you waste no time in approaching and hoping that he'll be able to listen to you.

He's laid back on his seat with his eyes closed.

Carefully, you knock twice on the window and he opens his eyes. He's confused when seeing you, but doesn't say anything. He opens up his door stepping out. Letting his hands go deep in his pocket he looks into your eyes.

For him, you were a friend in need of saving. He never intended on letting his heart do the saving, he stupidly just followed and hoped he wouldn't get wrapped up in his own feelings. From the moment he invited you to his house, to the moment he showed his hospitality, he always knew that you'd leave him.

So not even letting you speak, his hands cup your face as his thumb circles your cheek before he meekly dives in and engulfs your lips in his own. Giving you one last kiss.

"Wanna drink?"

"Renjun..."

"Please.."

You sigh, deciding to follow him inside. Luckily for you, he squats for you to get on his back so that he can carry you inside. Once inside the warm bar, Renjun sets you down ordering a row of shots. Taking a seat by the bar on the rolling chair, you can't help but frown at his choice of drink and how much he seems he's going to drink.

Before the drink comes, you both sit in silence letting the jazz music play in the background. Your thoughts are blank as you simply fix your eyes on his empty eyes.

“He’s not perfect." He speaks, as soon as the bartender sets the drinks down. "You aren’t either."

"Renjun.."

"And... and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can."

"Wait Renjun, you're not making sense,"

"I'm making perfect sense. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he isn't going to be thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break." He sighs. "He has changed. I'm a witness to it. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect for more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had."

"Renjun, I want you,"

"I know. I want you too. But, perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you."

"You're perfect for me,"

Taking one drink, gulping it down in one go, he sets the empty drink down and drinks another before shaking his head. "Is it okay..." he holds the drink in his hand, twirling the liquid, not looking at me as his eyes get glossy. "Is it okay of we let time tell? If he's not the one, then you know where to find me."

You're at a loss for words when he waits for your answer for a while, before drinking his drink down and taking another shot glass and another and another. Before he orders another set. You simply sit. With a heavy heart. Your phone vibrating in your hand and your feet bare.

You're sure there are tears in your eyes when looking at how devastated Renjun is. You want to feel as though you've got your emotions under check and that your heart is not pining for him- yet the depth of your eyes reveal your hearts longing for the being sitting and drowning his drink like a madman. You remember a time when you would always feel flattered, gushed over him and feel so much love radiating out of him. However now, you don't know how to feel. You're scared for certain. But you aren't scared of him, you're scared of your feelings towards him, and how it seems as though he's lost hope. Lost hope in you and what your relationship is. Why is it, that those sweet memories of your past together are turning dim? Why is it, that he's not holding your hand right now trying to assure you that nothing will happen? Why is he drinking after laying an uncertain break up with you? Why is it, that after an hour of drinking, his hands that are playing with yours makes you feel warm? Why is it, that your new uncertain ex boyfriend Huang Renjun is sitting beside you and your heart is breaking?

And why is it, that you feel like you've left him hurting?

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