if I lose my mind 2
dream sorter haechan x dreamer fem reader
genre: fantasy/tim burton-esque, romance, smut, angst!!, fluffy moments
warnings: +18, explicit sexual content, jaemin is an accidental voyeur, swearing, wounds
other characters: mark, taeyong, jaemin, taeil
words: 11k
read part 1 here
"I want your fingers inside my mouth," you tasted the words on your tongue.
The place was dark, and you couldn’t clearly see the face of the person you were addressing. Only half of his face was on display - his perfect nose and a pair of plump lips.
What you said was meant to be a mere flirty joke, but the man's Adam apple moved up and down in nervousness as his breath got shaky. The collarbones were on display in his black silk shirt as if inviting you bite down. He took a step towards you before you could do anything, caging you with his arms and you gasped gently. The sink dug into the softness of your ass and your torso leaned back, shy of his sudden closeness.
He stared you down for a moment although you couldn’t exactly see his eyes. You tried to exchange the look, but your gaze fell on his open lips instead. And when he let the water run behind you, little drops hit your bare back making you shiver.
He was as close as to caressing your face with his breath, yet so far away from kissing you.
And then you gasped again, feeling some of the water drops on your exposed bosom as he lifted one wet hand to your face. His two fingers were nudging at your open lips, and you opened your mouth wider. The man slid them inside of it and you hummed.
"Like this?" he murmured, looking at your doe eyes.
You held his wrist with both hands, sucking on his fingers diligently, nodding twice.
"Fuck," he whispered, the feeling of your warm tongue on the underside of them making him get even closer. His thigh pushed between your legs, and you grabbed his luscious shirt with your hands, right when
“Y/N, wake u- ouch!”
You gasped, mouth pasty and brain fried only to see Taeyong’s scrunched face under your palm, whining on your right.
“Sorry, sorry, oh my god, are you okay?”
You took the hand away and your boyfriend massaged his nose with a light chuckle. “I am okay. Good slap. Who were you fighting in your dream?”
The bedroom was dark, and you could barely make sense of his features but his eyes were shining.
“Oh,” you inhaled and exhaled slowly trying to focus. You were having this dream-
Taeyong didn’t talk for a moment then he gently wiggled his thigh, and you realized only in that moment that it was tightly hugged by your legs.
“Oh,” you gulped again, unclasping your thighs. Taeyong didn’t move his leg away.
“I wasn’t minding it,” his deep sleepy voice caressed your ears. “What were you dreaming about?”
You grunted, rolling on your back and hitting the pillow with the head. Your face was on fire and your panties were too damp for your liking. Then you tried to remember what the hell were you dreaming about, to make you start humping Taeyong like that in the middle of the night. Flashes of someone’s jaw and lips danced in your sleepy mind for a moment, then the feeling of fingers on your tongue.
“I just hope the dream was with me at this point,” Taeyong pulled you back by the waist and you chuckled a bit. Honestly you had no idea. But that must have been Taeyong.
“Of course, it was with you. Who else can I have dreams about?”
__________
Haechan thought he’d be able to stop thinking about you, but the habit of waiting every day to meet you, looking at your curious eyes and inviting you to choose a dreaming door, wasn’t something that could disappear all of a sudden. Although he couldn’t dream, the moments he spent with you were the closest thing to a dream he has ever experienced. While moving around like an automaton doing his tasks, his mind wouldn’t stop imagining your face, your eyes, your body. His fingertips could almost feel your skin. Your scent would randomly engulf him, making him stop in his tracks and turn around as if he could suddenly see you appear from behind a corner with your little cunning smile.
But you weren’t there, just random people passing by.
He’d close his eyes to compose himself, head thrown back and deep breaths, then he’d start walking again.
__________
Jaemin looked at Haechan stopping in his tracks and looking around like a hound. Their eyes met for a split second and Jaemin’s breath stopped, but Haechan’s dark pupils went over his figure as if looking for someone else. His shoulders looked droopy as he walked away and Jaemin exhaled anxiously, wondering what to do.
It was completely normal for people to have sexual dreams. That was part of the core training - not weird to see wet dreams, don’t piss your pants. Shame wasn’t something Jaemin’s people ever experienced but somehow, he could understand why the Dreamers were ashamed of their sexual thoughts during waking hours, bringing upon themselves convoluted wet dreams instead.
So Jaemin didn’t think much of your dreams. Some were confusing, some were nightmares, and some were sad. He was ready to see all sorts of things. But his breath stopped, and his spine shivered the moment he saw a familiar man in your dreams as well.
“Listen, this is a top-secret situation, and we need to be discreet. No one must know your Dreamer has been Lee Haechan’s. Got it?”
Jaemin was standing in front of Taeil’s desk and nodded once, taking up his first task after graduating just a few days ago.
“No one talks about their Dreamers in detail so if anyone asks just be vague about it,” Taeil continued. “And if you see something weird going on, you must tell me.”
“Weird like, what, sir?”
Taeil sighed. “I don’t know. You’ll probably understand if something is weird.”
Jaemin and Haechan didn’t know each other well, but he saw him in a few of his classes. Haechan was a genius so he graduated much earlier than everyone else so Jaemin didn’t have time to become friends. But he was sure he was the man you kept dreaming about. The thing is, you should have forgotten him on the spot the moment you changed Dream Sorters. The security classes were fresh in his mind but unless Jaemin missed info because he was asleep, no one ever mentioned such a situation to him before. Was it normal for you to dream about Lee Haechan or was that something weird enough to communicate?
__________
The class that morning was more boring than usual, you realized. The sun was shining brightly and warming your body slowly, making you feel like some sort of rotisserie chicken. The notes you were trying to take were gibberish. In the corners of the pages, there were some doodles. The one you were working on was some sort of flower.
The professor’s monotonous voice just added to the heaviness of your eyes, and you decided to just close them for a second. Just a moment, resting them for a bit.
You did just that, and with a heavy sigh, you opened them again.
But there was no professor or students’ backs. No classroom and no notes.
You were standing in the middle of a dimly lit room. It was minimal but cosy, with a comfortable bed on one side, a soft rug under your nude feet, and a desk against a big window, from which you could see a breathtaking view.
A deep shiver ran across your body from head to toe. Where the hell were you? Were you dreaming? Or having a psychotic moment? Your mouth felt dry, and you felt panic descending into your bloodstream.
A single sound in the silent room made you jump in place, and you covered your mouth with both palms. It was a person, resting their head on their arms on the desk. For a second you thought that was you and you were having an out-of-body experience, but then you noticed the wide shoulders, the veiny hands, and finally the expression of a young man, lifting his head to lock eyes with you.
He smiled as if he could see you and you felt pulled to smile back although you felt scared out of your mind one second prior.
“Pretty face today,” you heard yourself say. Then you furrowed your eyebrows and touched your lips as if not believing you actually said that to a stranger.
“Can look prettier with you sitting on it,” the young man replied lazily as if he was used to this kind of banter.
You felt your breath stop but your feet started to walk towards him as if they weren’t yours. He pushed his chair back to give you space and you placed his hands on his shoulders, slowly straddling his spread thighs. His eyes were deep but bright under his soft hair. You lifted one hand to feel it. It was pink, soft, and a bit damaged. He closed his eyes under your touch and his palms tightened their hold on your waist. They were warming your skin through the silk nightgown you were wearing.
“Be careful about what you desire,” you whispered. The words kept coming out of you as if you were under a spell and someone was moving you like a puppet.
He opened his eyes and stared at you, drinking in your features. “I’ve never regretted anything before.”
Then his expression darkened all of a sudden. You tilted your head to the side as if not understanding. “No,” he added, as an explanation. “Maybe I do regret something. Just one thing. Letting you go,” the young man murmured.
You had no idea what that meant but your body felt painful as if that phrase opened a wound you didn’t know you had.
You palmed his face, gently cupping his cheeks, sliding your fingers right under his jaw.
“I am here though.”
The young man’s lips stretched into a bitter smile. “Are you really?”
He exhaled deeply and let his head fall, burying his face into your chest, wrapping your body with his arms as tightly as he could. You did the same with his head, resting your lips on the crown of it, lulled by the scent of his shampoo.
“I’ll believe it even if just for a moment,” his voice buzzed against your skin. “Nothing wrong with talking to themselves and being delusional in your room, right, Haechan?” he added with a little smile in his voice, as if talking to himself.
You opened your mouth to say he wasn’t crazy because you were there when a sudden loud knock on the door made your heart fall to your guts.
You lifted your head from your arms with a gasp and focused your eyesight. The professor was still talking just as monotonously as before. None of your classmates noticed you falling asleep, so you exhaled and relaxed in your chair. The water on your desk looked delicious and you had a big gulp from the bottle. Then your eyes fell on the doodles you were doing before. You sighed and played with your pen, a weird sensation still lingering under your skin. Under the flowers you’ve drawn, you wrote a name.
Haechan.
__________
Haechan rolled his eyes at the knock on his door. He lifted his head from his arms and stretched them above his head.
Wasting the afternoons fantasizing about you has been a problem for him lately.
This time it felt so real that he had the sensation you’d actually been on his lap just seconds ago.
He rested his hands on his thighs and they felt warm.
Haechan whined feeling like going crazy, but a second more violent knock disturbed him again and destroyed the last remnants of your presence.
“Who’s there?” he asked, getting up and walking towards the door.
Mark opened it before Haechan could grab the handle. His eyes were wide like a deer’s and Haechan was about to ask what was going on before he could see the figure of another person behind his shoulders.
“This is Jaemin. Y/N’s new Dream Sorter. He needs to talk to you.”
__________
That evening you walked home instead of taking any transportation. The cool air should have been able to oxygenate your brain and you desperately needed that. The dream you had during class and the name you basically engraved in your notebook by outlining it for the remaining 20 minutes of class until it tore the page were heavy on your conscience.
Taeyong’s texts were also unread on your phone but you couldn’t see him that day.
Was it normal to have dreams about other men even if you had no idea who the men were? You felt horrible. Not because you felt guilty, but because of the lack of guilt.
You’ve been feeling weird lately, moody, and irritable.
You’d forget so many things, you’d misplace objects. It got to a point in which you’d nod and smile at everything Taeyong was telling you, although you had no memory of anything he was talking about.
You couldn’t talk to him about it. You couldn’t even mention it to Doyoung because he’d definitely snitch.
And it has been so embarrassing and actually humiliating to sit down and go through all of your stuff one night, looking for signs of you dating your boyfriend. You couldn’t remember your anniversary date. You had no photos together. You couldn’t recall any date you’ve been on. And you felt even more humiliated when you grabbed your phone to google early signs of memory loss.
But the worst thing of them all was your lack of feelings.
Was this the reason your brain was feeding you wet dreams with other men? To tell you to break up with him?
You stopped walking and passed one hand on your face with a groan.
Then you looked around and fumbled towards the closest bench you could see. The little notebook you started to use as a dream journal was pretty much empty, safe for the two dreams you had that week. You opened it and felt the pages, looking into your handwriting as if they were a code waiting to be broken. It wasn’t obvious to you before, but now you could tell. The energy of those dreams was the same. You couldn’t remember the man’s - Haechan? - face, but his touch, scent, and tone of voice were so recognizable that you felt stupid for not realizing the two dreams were connected.
Who was this man? Were you slowly descending into madness?
__________
Jaemin grunted when Haechang grabbed his collar and pushed him into the wall. “You smell like her.”
Haechan’s voice was low and cutting. Jaemin tried to smile but it came difficult while being strangled.
“Easy, easy. He’s her Dream Sorter and they’re in the same room every night. It’s normal,” Mark placed his hands on Haechan’s extended arm. Haechan didn’t look like wanting to drop it but Jaemin’s pleading voice made Haechan sigh and let go, patting his chest a few times to adjust the shirt.
Jaemin inhaled sharply as he got freed from Haechan’s clasp and dramatically slid a bit on the wall to rest his hands on the knees.
Haechan’s nostrils flared and then relaxed as if suddenly losing strength. “So it has been you all of this time,” he mumbled.
“He didn’t do anything to her,” Mark explained. “He’s here to help.”
Haechan felt dizzy. All of those times he felt your scent it was just Jaemin accidentally walking past him. He felt stupid for believing he kept having some sort of magical connection with you after you parted ways, but at the same time he was glad he actually smelled your scent and he wasn’t slowly losing his mind instead.
“Wow, that was something,” Jaemin massaged his neck and looked for a chair to sit down on.
Haechan crossed his arms on his chest. “You’ll survive.” If looks could kill Jaemin would have been incinerated already.
Mark rolled his eyes. “Haechan.”
The latter sighed and finally sat on the bed, shifting his weight forward to adjust himself and spreading his legs comfortably.
“Well?” he looked at Mark and then Jaemin. “I’m all ears.”
Jaemin gave Mark a look and Haechan understood they’d discussed the matter between themselves beforehand.
“I am her Dream Sorter now and I can see her dreams,” Jaemin started.
Haechan wasn’t impressed. Of course, he could see your dreams. The jealousy was eating his guts alive, but Haechan chose to not think about the Dream Sorter you might have gotten for his own sanity. Yet, there he was in his bedroom, flaunting it and pissing Haechan off.
“And she’s dreaming about you,” Jaemin finished.
Haechan forgot how to breathe.
__________
Taeyong was already sitting when you arrived at the little cafè you asked him to meet you at.
It wasn’t a date but the fairy lights above his head and the way he was waiting for you made your heart hurt.
“Hey,” you barely said, grabbing your own chair to sit down.
Taeyong lifted his head to look at you, but you didn’t dare to look him in the eyes.
“Hey,” he replied after a few moments.
He probably knew. Your dry “we need to talk” text after ignoring his messages was enough indication of what was going on.
When you finally let your gaze fall on his face your breath stopped. He was legit breathtaking. And so sad that you decided to look at his hands instead.
You were probably completely insane to want to break up with a man like Taeyong.
“You know I’ll sound completely crazy, but,” you started, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now and-” you interrupted yourself, “-I don’t know when we started dating.”
You felt stupid saying that.
Taeyong’s face didn’t communicate anything. His deep dark eyes were drinking into your features instead as if he knew it was the last time seeing you.
He opened his lips after gulping once and told you about a random date. It didn’t mean anything to you.
“I don’t remember it,” your voice broke. “I don’t remember anything, Taeyong. I woke up one day and you were my boyfriend.”
The man sighed but he didn’t look surprised. That was even more creepy.
“There’s something going on with me that I need to resolve. So, I am not breaking up with you because you did something wrong or anything. It’s me.”
“I can give you some space. There’s no need to-”
“I like somebody else,” you sputtered on the spot then gasped softly. Taeyong stopped his phrase but he didn’t look shocked at this either. The most surprised one of the two was you. Why did you feel like dreaming? And why were dreams feeling more like reality?
“No. I meant I feel like- I don’t know,” you babbled, one hand to support your head. You didn’t like anybody else. Right? Then why did you feel like you did? Taeyong let you talk then leaned forward for a moment to gently put a strand of hair you messed up back in place.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I tried.”
You straightened your back at his words. He licked his lower lip once and you waited.
“Sometimes we try a lot with people it’s not meant to be. And we’re not meant to be. That’s why you feel that way. I get it now.”
His hand was placed right in front of you, and you wavered at first, but you knew he’d understand, so you just placed yours on top of it. His lips stretched in a tight smile.
“You know how in movies and books people are always meant to be? “
You nodded.
“I’ve always felt like I was surrounded by these couples and I forced myself into them like a third no one is really fond of.”
Taeyong’s tone was light and airy. Yet you could see the heaviness on his shoulders.
“And no, don’t say I’ll meet my own person in the future,” he smiled wider when you opened your mouth in an attempt to comfort him. “I’m alright.”
“I am sorry Taeyong.”
He shook his head. “No. I am sorry, and I owe you my apologies.”
“For what?”
“Haechan,” he simply said. “He’s the man you like, right?”
__________
“Well, that’s completely insane.”
Mark and Jaemin exchanged a worried look before going back to stare at the way Haechan kept pacing around the room, one hand on the hip, the other on his stressed forehead.
“No. That makes absolutely zero sense. It has never been seen before.” the young man suddenly stopped as he did a few times already while going through the stages of grief. So far it was only Denial and Mark sighed, wondering how much they’ll have to keep being there.
“And you?” Haechan indicated Jaemin with one accusatory finger. “You’ve been a fucking sick voyeur all of this time?”
Mark rolled his eyes. Great, he was at Anger already. Maybe it was going to be quicker than expected.
Jaemin huffed incredulously. “I tell you that your fantasies become her dreams and that’s what you're most worried about? Me seeing them?”
Haechan put the extended hand on his hip, staring Jaemin down like some pissed-off mother. “That’s a serious and normal concern. I’ve been-” he started but quickly interrupted himself as a dark shadow passed his eyes.
He cleared his throat looking at the floor for a moment.
Mark has never seen Haechan shy before.
“I’ve been thinking many things lately. The fact you’ve been in my mind all of this time through Y/N is making me feel violated.”
“What have you been fantasizing about?” Mark’s corner of the lip lifted.
“That’s not important.”
“Well, it looks important to you if you’re acting like that.”
“Listen,” Jaemin interrupted the two. “The most important thing is trying to understand how and why this is happening. Y/N should have completely forgotten you after she changed Dream Sorters. She doesn’t remember you but she can sense a connection. That is weird. And the way your fantasies become her dreams has never happened before.”
Mark and Haechan closed their mouths at Jaemin’s grave tone.
“With each dream, she grows closer to you. You also said your own name in the last dream and now she knows that too. She’s probably going to go insane and you said that’s why you separated in the first place. Now, all of that is useless. And I am also in the middle now. I should have reported this but I didn’t and if someone finds out they might take me out too.”
Haechan let his tongue bump into his cheek for a second. He didn’t like where this was going.
“You need to put a stop to this,” Jaemin’s eyes were dark and cold.
“How?”
Haechan knew the answer even before Jaemin could reply.
“No ties. You need to stop thinking about her.”
__________
You didn’t understand Taeyong at first. Haechan sounded like something very important that has been escaping your mind. You felt like that about everything lately, as if you were in some sort of nightmare.
“I don’t understand,” you replied with a tiny voice.
Taeyong’s eyebrows furrowed but he remained silent.
“I thought-”
“You thought what?” you asked when he hesitated. His pupils were wide and dark, looking at you, but he couldn’t see you for real.
His eyes suddenly twinkled and his jaw relaxed. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
You blinked at him, more confused than before.
“No. You have to tell me now.”
Taeyong’s lips went as far as stretch in a secret smile he thought you couldn’t see. You suddenly felt cold.
“We can break up. Don’t worry about it.”
You looked at him as he suddenly stood up and wore his jacket. “See you in class.”
__________
The only thing Haechan had for himself was the freedom to use his head the way he wanted to.
If you weren’t there, he could make you up in his mind.
If he couldn’t kiss your lips he could imagine their softness.
If he couldn’t hold you he could pretend his hands were on your body.
And now he learned he couldn’t even do that.
He skipped Bargaining and was already in the Depression stage.
His room was getting lighter with sunrise, a sign it was almost night in your world, and it somehow made Haechan’s headache worse. So, he just closed his eyes, pillow on his face, to try and drown any sensation.
He might as well just die at that point, he snickered without humour.
Jaemin told him to try it out for just one night, just to test the theory.
But Haechan was so not good at following any orders.
Some time passed and Haechan was still there, unable to fall asleep, unable to relax, unable to stop thinking about you.
He huffed loudly, throwing the pillow towards the window where it stopped against the wall.
“I am trying, okay?” he looked up at the ceiling as if Jaemin was there looking down at him. The sensation of being watched made his skin shiver, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. The realization made Haechan shiver again. Was that a common kink?
He scoffed, turning to one side. Then to the other.
The bed creaked under his hard movements and his mind went to the sound of the bed he fucked you on that night- no.
No no. Haechan stop. You can’t. No.
He whined a little and opened his eyes.
He couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t allowed to. Was this how you felt all of that time? It was hell.
I mean, couldn’t he even rub one out either? You had nothing to do with his cock, per se. The important thing was to not think about you while doing that.
Shouldn’t be hard. Right?
__________
Your apartment was dark just like your brain after talking to Taeyong. The walk felt wobbly and you’ve never felt more grateful to touch the pillow with your head. Maybe after a good night's sleep, everything would make more sense. You sighed and tried to relax. Then you huffed on one side.
Taeyong’s words kept rolling in your head meaninglessly.
Haechan Haechan Haechan. The man you liked.
What did that mean? Was Haechan the man you’ve been dreaming? You were pretty sure you’ve heard or read it somewhere before.
In class? Maybe.
In your notes? Probably.
Think.
Notes? Your school notes?
You gasped and sat up, remembering the dream you had and the word you wrote down in your notes, circling it. You looked around, trying to find your bag in the darkness but the outline of the room felt suddenly off. The sun was timidly starting to shine from behind your back and you realized the floor was cold against your knees.
In front of you, there was a bed and a man sleeping on it.
Haechan’s hair was curled and spread on the pillow, just a single strand still on his forehead. It got knocked away as he pushed his head back into the bed, even more, eyes closed as if almost in pain. You could make sense of the silhouette of his plump lips, open in a silent whimper, against the dark purple of the window, and of his Adam’s apple in his extended throat. It moved as he swallowed, and you felt bewitched until you noticed the movement of his fingers instead. They were sliding down his nude stomach and the movements of his lean abs flinching under the touch were so enticing that you couldn’t look away. But then the silence got disrupted by a short groan and your eyes darted back to his face scrunched as if in pain or pleasure. Perhaps both, because from the way he was teasing himself on top of his sweats you could tell he was on edge.
“Fuck,” he whispered but you could hear him very well as his hips bucked upwards against his palm. The pants were low on his hips and the view made you tighten your thighs together. You wanted to walk over, touch him the way he was touching himself, but you couldn’t move for some reason, and the frustration just made you even damper. You just had to watch at the way two veins snaked under his band, and you imagined how they would feel under your tongue. Would his skin be hot? Yes, you decided, as if you already knew, and it would be silky, getting even silkier as you'd go down even more, following the veins with your tongue until meeting the tip of his cock. You wondered what Haechan's voice would sound like. Husky? Deep? Or whiny and breathy? You didn't have to think too much about that, because a grunt filled your years and you realized you missed the moment he took off his clothes. His long fingers were finally on his hard cock, lazily pumping it, reaching for his balls with the other hand, pressing his thumb on the leaking tip. You felt your throat dry as you tried to gulp. Not once in your life you've assisted to such erotic view, Haechan pleasuring himself making you so dazy you had to rest your head on something, but there was nothing around. And when he started to whimper, fist moving up and down faster, his other hand pushing back his hair on the forehead, you couldn't bear it anymore. The heat between your legs got too much and you exhaled shakily, wanting to cum so badly. Haechan looked so fine you wanted to just sink on his cock, feeling those hands on your hips, asking you where you wanted him to cum. You'd say you want him to fill you all up inside and he'd do just that, feeling you clench around him until
until
you looked around your room with a sharp breath. The sun wasn't out yet but your alarm was due to ring anytime now. Winter was coming, you realized. Then you realized the mess you made during the night and the way your legs were squeezed together, shaking uncontrollably. “Shit.”
You inhaled deeply, ignoring the fact it sounded like a whine and you relaxed your legs on the mattress. “Shit shit shit.”
You've never been woken up by an orgasm before. It was still lingering under your skin and on the tips of your fingers.
You ignored the way you were pulsating and grabbed your phone with shaky hands, turning off the alarm before it could ring.
"I had another wet dream" you typed into your notes, on the page dedicated to your dreams. You realized you were writing them everywhere.
Then you stared at the ceiling as if trying to remember anything else. A man, pleasuring himself on a bed. You couldn't move or touch him. He was dreamy and you were pretty sure by now that his name was Haechan.
__________
Haechan was rolling peas on his plate when a hard slap on his shoulder made him cough.
“Are you fucking insane?” he asked when he found his voice. “What’s wrong with you?”
But Mark’s spirited expression didn’t care about Haechan’s tone. “You need to come with me.”
“Whatever is going on there’s no need to beat me over it.”
“Get up right now. I found something.”
Haechan sighed, not in the mood to hang out with anyone.
“It’s about Y/N,” the other lowered his voice.
Haechan closed his mouth. “I made sure to not think about her.”
Mark grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up to his feet.
“I talked to Jaemin again. I know, I shouldn’t get involved but this whole thing made me want to research further. No one knows, so you understand this is confidential, right?”
“As if I would tell this to anyone. Don’t be stupid.”
Mark was talking quietly and fast while walking just as fast towards what Haechan guessed was his apartment.
“Slow the fuck down. What exactly is going on? Is she okay? Is she hurt?”
Mark stopped in his place. “You said it was weird that she was friends with Taeyong, the dude killed over his Dreamer.”
Haechan blinked emptily for a moment before the realization made his whole body turn into mush. He had no time to fully think about that man and, honestly, he really hated his guts.
Mark held onto his shoulders. “Yeah. She was his Dreamer. And she couldn’t remember that. Why? We don’t know yet. But he of course could remember her and he sabotaged you two when he discovered she was in love with you. Now they’re dating. I interrogated Jaemin against all rules oh my god what if they discover-”
Haechan felt his head full of cotton and Mark was talking way too quickly. “Wait, wait. I don’t understand shit. And so, what? She was right. It was not worth it. Dating in her dreams? Absurd. If she’s happy with him then so be it. They’re in the same world. I was ready to go to hell after being killed but she didn’t want me anymore-”
“She got convinced she did it for your sake. Taeyong didn’t tell her there is a way for you two to be together so he could have her for himself.”
Haechan couldn’t process it fast enough. Mark patted his cheek with a little smile.
“I found the way. I’m going to help you get back with her.”
__________
Haechan was sitting down on Mark’s couch. Every time he was there something was going on and he started to grow sick of that place.
“So, a summary of what we know so far.”
“You don’t have to tell-” Haechan started but Mark interrupted. Haechan rolled his eyes.
“You were Y/N’s Dream Sorter and that was your first job,” he taped a picture of you and Haechan on the wall.
“What are you, and investigator?” Haechan cackled but leaned forward to rest his elbows on the knees. He really wanted that photo of you for himself.
“And you both fell in love with each other,” Mark continued, uniting the two pictures with a red thread.
Haechan felt his ears go red so he absentmindedly rubbed one earlobe. He didn’t confirm nor deny.
“Now, this dude,” Mark taped a photo of Taeyong near you. Where was he getting those pics from? “Past Dream Sorter. He fell in love with her but we don’t know if-”
“She didn’t like him back,” Haechan interrupted.
Mark cleared his throat. “Well, we don’t know y-”
“She didn’t.”
“Alright alright,” Mark united Taeyong’s pic with yours with a different coloured thread. “This is nice, isn’t it?”
Haechan rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Is this a game for you? Are you having fun?”
“I am, sorry. Now, Jaemin. New Dream Sorter.”
Haechan was starting to get bored.
“Pressing question, when did you become her Dream Sorter?” Mark asked.
The other man thought about it for a moment. “Right after graduation. Like a year ago.”
“So, it means that’s when Taeyong stopped to be her Dream Sorter. Although in his file it is written it all happened way back in the past. This is why we never thought about him.”
Haechan watched Mark place little year cards to the connections with furrowed eyebrows.
“It will come out as a shock but I’m not following you right now,” Haechan commented, scratching one eyebrow.
“Taeyong must have gotten killed right before you became Y/N’s Dream Sorter for it all to work out,” Mark tapped his face with the index finger.
Haechan’s eyes tightened. “Then he’s supposed to be a titty-sucking newborn if he got killed last year.”
Mark hit the wall with one palm. “But he’s a grown-up motherfucker.”
The other’s eyes widened.
“He wasn’t killed to be reborn. He escaped this place.”
__________
Jaemin stirred the ice in his coffee for the fifth time in two minutes.
“Can you stop doing that? It’s fucking annoying,” Haechan snapped.
The other scoffed. “You’re in no position to give any orders, Hornatron 2000.”
Mark sat up extending his palms. “Okay, let’s calm down. I said I have a plan.”
Haechan groaned, rubbing his face with one palm. “No, you don’t.”
“We just need to discover how Taeyong escaped and make you do the same. This is a brilliant idea.”
Jaemin stirred the ice in his coffee again shaking his head like the most shocked grandma.
“You guys are completely crazy. I said we need to tell Taeil about this and end it here. He won’t kill you over horny thoughts, which by the way, you didn’t bother to try and not have.”
Haechan’s head snapped upwards.
“I didn’t think about her last night, don’t fuck with me.”
“Really now? Rubbing one out? Well, you had spectators. And two of them, unfortunately, one of which not your dear girlfriend.”
Mark made a face as if glad he wasn’t involved.
Haechan was mortified. “I wasn’t even sleeping.”
Jaemin lifted his unoccupied hand in the air and shrugged. “Told you it’s a big deal. Let’s tell Taeil.”
Mark shook his head. “We don’t tell shit to anyone. We’ll make Haechan escape.”
“You don’t even know how that works. Worst case scenario, Haechan dies and he’s born a fucking baby. Is this girl even worth it? Come on now.”
Haechan got up. “Listen listen. This connection thing has to be tested first.”
“Think about her now, then,” Mark lifted one eyebrow.
“She’s not sleeping. It’s day there.”
“Try it,” Jaemin added.
Haechan huffed but closed his eyes against his will. Mark and Jaemin waited in silence as if you could appear like a ghost any time soon.
“I can’t when you’re here!” Haechan’s voice disrupted the silence and the other two men jumped in place. “Have you guys ever heard of something like this? Materializing Dreamers only by thinking of them? Crazy stuff. We’re all going crazy now.”
The two young men assisted to Haechan’s short monologue, but their gazes weren’t on him anymore. Haechan furrowed his eyebrows.
“At least pay attention to me?” he continued. “What’s so interesting behind me that-” he turned around to meet your wide eyes. His hair physically got pushed back by the sheer power of your shriek.
“What the fuck?!”
You were soaking wet in a bathtub, your arms tightly crossed on your chest and the bubbles of the bath slowly descending down your head.
Haechan started at you with an open mouth then turned around briefly to check if the others were seeing you too. From their dead expressions they definitely could and from your furious eyes, Haechan understood you could see them too.
“This has never happened before,” he tried to explain.
“What kind of fucking dream is this?” you asked. “I was taking a bath.”
“I can see it,” Haechan commented. Then realization washed over him. “You look away!” he directed his words to the two, still shocked, guys behind him.
They cleared their throats and looked away.
Haechan opened his closet and frantically looked for his robe. “Wear this. We need to talk,” he handed you the item.
You looked at his hand and then at his face, not letting go of your confused expression.
But you listened to him and grabbed the robe. Haechan turned around to give you privacy and he exhaled. Mark and Jaemin were frantically discussing between themselves.
Haechan felt like drowning in a dream that he couldn’t escape. You came and went in waves, leaving him disoriented. He could wait for you at the bottom. He could also stay away if you wanted him to. He could wait for years. He could do everything.
And you were there.
“Can you just-” he heard your voice, and he turned around again. You were extending your hand for him to help you outside of the tub.
Your skin was soft and still a bit damp and he thought he was going to lose his mind on the spot.
You were there.
“Okay what the hell is going on?” you asked when you were on your feet. Your hand slipped from Haechan’s and he realized he has never been that nervous in his life.
Mark took a step forward to save Haechan from his frenzy. “Hi, I am Mark, and this is Jaemin and you might want to sit down for what we’ll tell you.”
You furrowed your eyebrows and they could see the way you were trying to understand if you were having the most lucid dream of your life or if you were actually there.
They had no idea either.
“And you are Haechan,” you added, looking at him. Haechan nodded, a bit take back.
“Okay, so you know it because he said it himself before, right?” Jaemin asked.
“Yes,” you hesitated.
Jaemin hit his palm with one fist. “Told you guys. Every time you think of her she gets dreams of you and she remembers them.”
“Wait what?” You looked around trying to get more information. Mark grabbed your arms and pulled you towards Haechan’s bed, making you sit down.
“If this is a dream, does it mean I am sleeping in the tub? Because that’s very dangerous,” you added. Mark looked concerned for a second.
“We’ll get to that, I think.”
“Are you really going to do all of this?” Haechan rubbed his eyebrow as if his friends were embarrassing him in front of his crush. Which was basically the truth.
Mark wasn’t listening and took out his pictures and coloured string, starting to put everything up on Haechan’s wardrobe.
Jaemin sat down on the chair near him and took a defeated sip from his coffee.
Haechan didn’t have any choice but to sit near you.
“Haechan.”
The man turned around. It didn’t sound like a question but your tone wasn’t sure.
“Y/N.”
You closed your mouth. Your eyes looked wide, taking in the view and processing. Haechan could almost hear your brain cells trying to piece everything together. The moment your gazes increasingly intertwined, your dream began.
“Is this a dream?” you asked.
“I think so.”
“I finally meet you.”
Haechan’s warm eyes closed for a moment and his fingers twitched. “Yeah, finally,” he exhaled.
“You’d think I am crazy, but I know you somehow. Like some sort of deja-vu. You’re familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. And it’s true I saw you before in dreams,” you added.
“I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”
“Do you know me?”
“Yes,” he simply said.
“How? Are we both dreaming?”
Haechan smiled at the actual deja-vu moment. “Yes.”
You frowned a little but didn’t question him. “Alright.”
The man blinked as if surprised. “You don’t want to know what this place is and what’s going on and-”
You shook your head. He looked at your eyes then lips, then every other feature on your face. His pupils were expanded and his breath was shaky.
“I have so many questions but-,” you stopped to think, “something’s going on. I don’t understand but maybe that’s for the better.”
“Are you afraid to know the truth?”
You felt your mouth tighten in a smile. “Yeah.”
Haechan’s body felt warm as he suddenly pulled you towards it, his arms tight around your waist. You exhaled sharply and felt tears prickle your eyes. You felt the material of his white button-down while sliding your hands around his neck.
As if you’ve been carrying a very heavy weight for years and suddenly it was gone, you felt so light that the tears didn’t want to stop sliding down your cheeks. One of his palms supported the back of your head and the touch of his fingers in your hair made you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck even more.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, feeling your shaky breaths while caressing your back.
“I missed you,” you heard yourself say. “Where have you been? I feel like I’ve been looking for you for so long.”
“I know. Everything will be clear soon. I promise.”
“I feel like I’ve been slowly losing my mind but I don’t really care.”
You smiled and Haechan chuckled. “You think I’m crazy right?” you asked.
“Okay, sorry guys, here I am,” Mark clapped his hands and you had to let go of Haechan.
You looked at the intricate mental map Mark prepared, and you jolted seeing Taeyong’s face on there too. That was officially the weirdest dream you’ve ever had in your whole life.
“I’ll make it quick,” Mark started, “this is you.”
You opened your mouth to ask how he got your picture but he kept talking.
“This is Haechan. And he was your Dream Sorter. This is Taeyong and he used to be your Dream Sorter before Haechan.”
“What?” you interrupted.
“And this is Jaemin, your Dream Sorter now.”
Jaemin lifted one little hand.
“Dream Sorters are people who, as the name says, sort you into dreams. You and all the people from your world. This fellow,” he indicated Taeyong, “fell in love with you. That’s not good. So, he should have technically gotten killed. After dying we become people like you, or at least that’s what they tell us. If he got killed, he should be a baby right now. But he’s a grown man and he’s friends with you. Meaning, he didn’t get killed, but he escaped somehow. Which tells us that it is possible to go there, and survive, and remember it.”
Mark finished and put his hands together staring at you. Jaemin’s eyes were on you as well and you could see Haechan’s attentive gaze in your peripheral vision.
You felt dizzy.
“Okay. Wait. Why are you telling me all this?”
Mark blinked back as if not expecting that question. “So, you know. Because we plan to send Haechan over to your world too. For you.”
Your head snapped towards him. “Why would you do something like that?”
Haechan’s mouth was open. “You don’t want me to?”
You shook your head. “Wait this is too much information to take in.”
You got up and tied the robe around you more tightly.
“Am I dreaming right now?”
“Technically yes, but this has never happened before,” Jaemin explained. “Usually when you sleep, yes, you come here but it’s controlled under my supervision. Now you just appeared in Haechan’s room because he just thought of you. This is very dangerous, and he can’t just stop thinking about you so we have to do something about it.”
That information made your whole body heat up.
Haechan looked up at you with wide luscious eyes as if he felt guilty.
“I can try to stop if,” he interrupted himself to gulp, “if you want me to stop. I’ll figure it out.”
“What happens when I think of you?” you asked no one in particular.
Haechan’s eyebrow furrowed but Mark looked enthusiastic. “Let’s test it. You need to wake up though.”
“How?”
The young men fell into silence for a moment.
“I have an idea,” Jaemin mumbled.
__________
The corridors of the place looked like a very high-end hotel. You were following Jaemin with Haechan right after him holding your hand, then Mark behind you, in the utmost silence. Your feet were nude, but the floor wasn’t cold.
“Where are we going again?” you tried.
“Shh,” all three boys replied in unison.
“Geez,” you whispered.
Haechan’s fingers intertwined with yours were making you feel timid, but you tried to act cool about it.
Who was he? Your lover? Your boyfriend? Someone you loved in the past and you forgot about it?
But looking at his back it felt so familiar. If your mind forgot something, your body surely didn’t, because your fingertips would be able to model Haechan’s back curve in clay in that same instant, and you knew for sure the spots where he had hidden beauty marks.
You felt hot and dizzy.
You’ve never felt like that with Taeyong. It never felt right with him.
Lost in your thoughts, you didnt’ realize the two men in front of you stopped and you hit Haechan’s back with your nose. Mark hit the back of your head.
“Ouch,” you whispered in unison with him.
“It’s here,” Jaemin looked at you all.
You had no idea what to expect when he said here, but a green and purple room wasn’t it.
A sense of deja-vu filled you, and you walked behind what was a hotel counter. In front of you was the door of an elevator and on the sides of the room were six golden doors, three on each side.
You eyed the pamphlets on the counter and the old-fashioned pastel pink telephone. For some reason, you pulled at a drawer and saw two pairs of white gloves.
“I have one of these!” you exclaimed, searching for Haechan’s eyes, a weird heat entering your body and making your legs feel like jelly.
He nodded as if he knew. “I gave it to you,” he explained.
“What is this place?” you walked around feeling like you’ve been there before.
“Here is where you come every night and I sort you in dreams,” Jaemin replied, leaning on the counter.
“Why do I not remember you?” you asked.
“Because we have no connection. That’s how it is supposed to be,” he replied, the last phrase sounding like a critique as he eyed his colleague.
Haechan scratched the back of his head.
The pieces were all starting to go together in that weird puzzle. You felt frightened but mostly you were just afraid that you’d wake up and realize that none of that was real. You were afraid that the second your life finally felt right you’d wake up in a nightmare called reality.
“What now?” you wondered.
“You need to go through one of the rooms, dream something, and then you’ll wake up. At that point, please try to think of Haechan as much as possible to see if he can-” Mark started then interrupted himself as if he also realized how insane that sounded, “-appear in your reality.”
“What if nothing happens?”
“Just go by your day and go to sleep normally. You’ll be here next time too. We’ll wait,” Haechan murmured. He was close to you, and you shivered.
You didn’t want to go. What if you couldn’t see him anymore?
“Can you come with me in the dream?” you asked timidly.
“That’s dangerous,” Jaemin replied for Haechan.
“I can do it,” the latter said.
“Everything in the dream might attack you. You’re not her Dream Sorter anymore,” the other added.
Haechan ignored him and held your hand again pulling you towards a random room.
“Haechan if it’s dangerous-” you started but he didn’t let you finish.
He opened the door, and the light engulfed you.
You opened your eyes in front of a huge window - your parents’ house. Your nude feet were now on the tiles of the balcony on the second floor and the sun was setting behind the horizon.
“Haechan?” you tried to call, but the silence was heavy, not even a single car making noise down the street.
“I’m coming up,” a voice announced, and you looked down and screamed, seeing Haechan hanging from the balcony rails.
“What the hell happened to you?” you asked, one hand on top of your mouth before you could lean down to give him a hand.
“I can manage,” he replied with a chuckle, and you watched him jump over the rail, and onto the balcony.
Haechan sighed heavily, not looking at you and walking towards the bench instead. You didn’t remember your parents having, a bench on their balcony but you were glad it was there.
It was a warm sunset, and your balcony was lit with orange hues. The thud of him sitting down made you jolt a bit then you sighed too.
“Let me see,” you ordered, placing yourself in front of him, grabbing his chin, and lifting his face up.
Haechan’s eyes were shining as he looked at you from under his fringe.
You gulped, pupils moving to look at his busted lip first then the bloody eyebrow. “How did you get this?”
Haechan chuckled again. “Unfriendly situations. This dream will be destroyed, I’m afraid.”
You felt sorry for him but then all of a sudden, he smirked and moved his head down to catch your fingertip with his mouth, placing a quick soft kiss on it.
“Eye!” you slid your arm away and he chuckled once. His lip cut opened more, and he winced soon after, letting his tongue go over it.
"Shit," he mumbled.
“You look terrible,” you walked away and entered the house to grab the medication. When you passed the bathroom mirror you didn’t want to look at the way your eyes were blown out. Or think about the way your fist was guarding the skin you felt his lips on.
When you exited on the balcony again, Haechan was resting with his head on the wall and with closed eyes. You moved slowly, looking at the way the setting sun danced on his skin until you noticed him smiling.
“You sure love staring at me,” he said in a low voice.
“I wasn’t-”
“You’re talking with a Dream Sorter. We have eyes on the back.”
“No, you don’t,” you placed the stuff on the bench near him.
Haechan opened his eyes right when you leaned down to press the piece of wet cotton on his eyebrow making you inhale more sharply than normal. He smiled a bit but only for a split second because soon after he opened his mouth to inhale too, feeling the disinfectant on his wounds.
“Fuck."
“Just a moment,” you mumbled, going from his brow to the lip, lightly pouting and blowing on his wounds to give him a bit of relief.
Haechan stared at your mouth, and you shivered feeling his hands creep around your thighs and pull you towards him a bit.
“Hey,” you warned him.
“Need to anchor me. The pain is unbearable,” he whispered amused, and the movement shifted his fringe on the forehead again. You lifted one hand and passed it through it, pushing it back to not let it touch the brow. Haechan gulped and closed his eyes for a brief moment at the gesture.
“Y/N, I think I am going to kiss you now.”
His low tone made you gulp.
“You can’t. Your lip is wounded.”
“Then you kiss me.”
You looked down at his mouth then quickly away, fumbling with the plasters in your hand.
“Stop joking.”
Haechan pouted with a loud “hm.”
“But I’m hurt. I just want a little cute healing peck.”
His fingers around your bare thighs got tighter though and the way his eyes shone in the dusk didn’t seem cute to you.
Rolling your eyes to the side you suddenly leaned down and kissed his temple for a moment.
Haechan exhaled, thrilled, and slid his hands upwards on your body, over your ass until reaching the curve of your back.
“On the cheek too,” he ordered.
You scoffed but the tingles on your lips were screaming for more, so you felt his soft skin again. He chuckled at the peck and chuckled again as you kissed his forehead too. When you reached his nose, he lost patience and pulled you down on himself, mouths hungrily on each other. Your knees bent for you to straddle his lap and his hands felt cold as he cupped your face and went around your jaw and behind your neck.
“Haechan,” you breathed out, breaking the kiss. “Your lip.”
He smirked. “What about it?”
You blinked fast and lifted one finger to touch the corner of his mouth where the skin was pristine.
“It’s- not there anymore,” you mumbled. Then you looked at his brow where the wound was slowly closing in front of your eyes.
“You!”
He chuckled delightedly.
“You can do this? You let me medicate you on purpose!”
He shook his head and hid his face in your bosom. “It’s not me healing it. It’s your kisses.”
"You're a brat!"
"And you love it."
"I do not."
"Your heart is beating so fast right now."
"It's because I'm mad!"
He lifted his face from your breasts and looked up mischievously.
"And I can feel your pulse on my thigh. You're throbbing."
His words made you widen your eyes and you tried to pull away from him but in vain.
His crystalline laughter filled your ears as his arms didn't let you budge a centimetre.
"Can I get you off?" he whispered, and you realized too late that you whined back.
"Is that a yes?"
You closed your eyes and gulped. You shook your head. Then you nodded.
Haechan clicked his tongue.
"Words."
"Yes," you breathed out, fingers slowly grabbing his shirt tighter and tighter as if preparing for something.
"Why are you so tense?" he soothed your spine, making you bounce on his leg a few times as if it could help you relax.
"Alright, I can make you soften up," he announced and just like that your core slid forwards on his jeans once and you let out a single silent oh.
Haechan imitated you amused. "Oh?", his hands cupping your ass and guiding your movement.
"Feels good?"
You whined once again, your breathing increasing in pace at each roll of your hips on his leg.
"Yeah," you replied softly.
"Show me how good it feels," he ordered, gripping your body, sliding one cool hand under your shirt until cupping your breast.
You bit your lower lip, frustrated, and propped yourself up a bit, rolling your hips on his thigh every second quicker than the previous.
Haechan's amusement was palpitant and you wanted to make it turn his expression into a mess as well. Leaning down, you attached your lips to his neck, kissing it slowly and reaching his ear where your soft moans could vibrate into his body. You felt his cock twitch near your thigh and your palm descended to it after carefully palming his torso.
It was so sinful that it made you dizzy. There was something so desperate in the way you'd chase your high on him, not even taking your clothes off, as if not having the force to do that. And him too, letting his head back on the wall, looking at you with hooded eyes and breathing out faster under your hand touching him.
As if reading your mind, you opened your eyes to Haechan's whispering.
"I like the way you look like that. So naughty. On your balcony for everyone to see what a needy girl you are. For Jaemin to see too."
"Shut up-," you resorted, your hand quick to cup his balls, making him choke. His hips bucked up into nothing and the slap on your ass was so loud that it probably resonated in all the neighbourhood.
You whined loudly and rested your forehead on his shoulder as his palm gripped the softness of your skin.
"You liked that?" he asked, and you exchanged a messy look, lips brushing against each other, drinking in his breath.
"Yeah," you repeated mindlessly. "I'm close, so close-,"
"Hm, cum all over my thigh."
Like a spell, as if he actually had magical powers, you whined loudly and seized up, limbs trembling as if electricity danced through them. Haechan held you tight against his body, hands rubbing your back and sides, hushed praises against your neck.
"We're not-," you tried to speak as you came down your thigh. "We're not talking about this."
"I will not shut up about this," his smile vibrated on your lips.
You swallowed and helplessly tried to get off his leg without success.
"I think-," you licked your lower lip, "It’s time for me to wake up.”
Haechan hummed and grabbed your chin, making you kiss him deeply.
“Think about me,” he murmured and before realizing you gasped, grabbing at your slippery bathtub, trying to understand what the hell just happened.
__________
It took you a while to get dry and just sit on your bed, thinking back at your dream. It felt so real that you couldn’t have made up all of that yourself. Haechan said to think of him, and you were thinking but nothing really was happening.
You groaned and fell down on the bed.
It was already late in the night and the other option was to fall asleep and supposedly meet them in the weird hotel Lobby to discuss. But the nap you took in the tub got rid of all the tiredness.
“Haechan,” you started to call out then you felt stupid and stopped.
How was it possible that when you were sleeping everything felt so real yet when you were awake it felt like you were just losing your mind?
What did they mean with think of Haechan? You’ve been thinking of him so many times, yet nothing happened before.
You huffed and let yourself fall back on the bed. The dark ceiling would get illuminated by the car lights outside, passing by.
You lifted one hand up in the air.
“Haechan,” you murmured, imagining his fingers gently sliding between yours, from your palm up to meet your fingertips.
You inhaled and exhaled deeply, almost feeling his touch.
But he never appeared, and your hand remained empty.
__________
“Listen, my shift is over,” Jaemin lifted one eyebrow towards Mark who was standing legs wide open and hands on his hips, like some sort of airport dad, in front of the golden door you and Haechan disappeared through.
“Is the dream over? Have you seen it?” Mark asked.
Jaemin shivered. “Not yet. Will see it later. Not excited to do it. But she’s awake.”
Mark crossed his arms on his chest. “Where’s Haechan then? He should be back here by now.”
“Maybe he did it,” Jaemin straightened his back, surprised.
The silence engulfed them both for a moment.
Mark giggled once.
Then chuckled.
Then laughed. A hyena laugh to resonate in the whole Lobby.
“He did it. That son of a bitch.”
_____________
Haechan opened his eyes to nothing, and panic washed over him.
Was he dead?
But he could feel his ass sitting on something and when he tentatively felt around, he could make sense of a shoe. Then he leaned forwards and he hit his forehead on something hard. He yelped and tried to put a hand on it to cool the pain when his elbow hit some kind of box, and something fell on his face.
The closet door opened in an instant with a bang and Haechan could see you, baseball bat in your hands, through the lace of the thongs that fell on his eyes.
“No fucking way,” you murmured. “What the fuck are you doing in my closet?”
Haechan quickly put away the underwear and tried to get up, but his head hit the top shelf this time. “Shit,” he mumbled.
You could just stand there, mouth open and eyes wide, trying to understand if you were still dreaming or not.
When Haechan managed to crawl, one sneaker in half of his foot, and got up in front of you, you exhaled.
“Hey,” he said then winced, touching his forehead where a little bump was starting to grow. “Too many injuries in the past few hours.”
“Can you cure it?” you asked.
Haechan blinked back. “Well, not this time, no.”
You both stood there for a moment as if in a daze, then as soon as you let the baseball bat fall to the ground Haechan’s arms wrapped around your body.
The tears collected in your eyes on their own and your breath went missing.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” you whispered in the crook of his neck. His scent felt so real and his body so firm.
Haechan was real and he was there.
“I know,” he replied, probably as shocked.
“Are you okay?” you pulled away quickly to grab his face with both of your hands and analyse his features. Haechan let you fondle his cheeks and rub on his skin.
“Besides getting a lip cut, an eyebrow cut, hitting my head twice? Yes. I think I’m good.”
“How? How is this-” you stuttered.
“I think-” Haechan started, “like that damned glove,” he inhaled, “you just didn’t let me go.”
__________
The morning felt warmer. You did not know if it was because of the ray of sun shining through the windows or because of Haechan’s - very real and very present - arms around your body.
"Fuck, I slept so much. What did I miss?" you mumbled.
Haechan rubbed his sleepy hands on your back. "This dick."
"Thank God. I thought I missed something big."
He clicked his tongue. “I will tackle you.”
You smiled, nuzzling your face into Haechan’s chest even more. “I can’t believe you’re here. What if I’m dreaming?”
Haechan’s warm palms on your back made you exhale pleasantly. “Would that be so bad?”
You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “No. If this is a dream, the only request I have is to never wake up.”
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i will not vanish | two
I will not vanish [MASTERLIST] is a companion series/backstory to the ‘soulmates collection’ [doyoung]
demon haechan x fem reader
genre: fantasy, smut, angst!!, comedic and fluff elements, tarot reader haechan
warnings and content: +18, explicit sexual content, oral f, body worshipping, titty sucking, first time penetrative sex for reader, fingering, breeding kink, unprotected and pulling out then protected (?), cum play, dirty talk, biting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, sexual tension, mutual pining, slow burn, tarot readings, fight scenes and use of swords/knives, magic snakes, wounds, swearing
other characters: demon jeno, immortal jaemin, doyoung, selene (oc), archangel mark
words: 17k
soulmates universe equivalent: my soulmate loves wine
note: the terminology used [demon, angel, archangel] has no correlation to the usual religious connotations
Mark was a peculiar man, you thought.
His eyes were dark as carbon just like his hair. They would pierce into yours as if they could read your mind. Perhaps, he could. He was an Archangel after all.
But he didn't feel frightening when he approached you that day, gently sitting on the dying grass near you.
“Are you my guardian Angel?” you finally spoke after his short monologue, explaining who he was.
Mark chuckled, closing his eyes, and showing white shiny teeth.
“No, I am not. And Haechan is not your guardian Demon either.”
He didn’t bother to explain how he knew you were thinking precisely that.
You swallowed.
“But you can come with me and ask him that yourself.”
When Mark said he knew where Haechan had run to, you had no idea that convincing the University Rector to suddenly let you take a gap year was going to be the most difficult thing to do.
“What if I promise you that I will get a sick as fuck dissertation on this travel? You’ll get so much fame and so many people will want to come and study here.”
The woman was slightly swinging back and forth in her huge chair as if unsure.
“Well, if you write it the same way you speak, I’m not sold.”
You fought the urge to sigh. “I am the smartest person in Slytherin.”
“That’s not true. It is, in fact, Kim Doyoun-”
“Okay, I’m the second smartest person in Slytherin.” You felt your eyebrow twitch.
“What’s even the topic?” she looked bored.
“Parallel universes,” you were firm.
The Rector had to hide a patronizing smile. “Research on parallel universes.”
Your fist tightened. “I think it’s absurd how we have all sorts of magic, and we can fly and stuff, and we don’t believe in parallel universes and people - no, beings - travelling to them through portals.”
“What would these beings be?”
You were unsure. Angels? Demons? Could that actually be the case or were Haechan and his weird friend group pulling the biggest prank in history?
“That would be my my research question, ma’am.”
You were so convincing that you convinced yourself as well. Or at least, you tried to not think too deeply about it.
But when you reached the city Mark gave you an appointment in, you fought the urge to run back home.
What were you doing? Were you that stupid and gullible to believe a stranger and follow him around?
Maybe.
But Haechan has always looked very strange to you as well. His magic wasn’t of your world, and the way both he and Jeno disappeared all of sudden wasn’t normal. You had to find out what the hell was going on.
“You actually came,” Mark commented, raising his eyes from the phone he was holding.
The man was sitting at a small round table, in front of a café, a steamy coffee to blur his face.
You sat down as well and looked around.
People were walking by and not giving both of you a single glance.
Of course, you just looked like two normal people having a conversation at a café. You had no idea why you felt like an undercover spy instead.
“So, where is he?”
You meant Haechan.
Mark leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms on his chest. He looked so confident that it was making you feel anxious as if you somehow fell into his trap.
“He’s right here,” he tilted his head towards the entrance of the coffee shop.
You looked at it, snapping your head. Some employees were inside but none of them looked like Haechan.
“Not here here. In the Universe he is right now this place is not a café but a tarot shop. That’s where you’ll go.”
“A tarot shop?”
Mark nodded.
“And he’s there.”
He nodded again.
“How do I reach him?”
Mark extended one hand on the table. You looked at his fingers. The palm was facing up and he had one faint scar in the middle of it.
“Touch me,” he whispered.
You had no idea what you expected to happen as you leaned forward and slowly brushed your fingertips with his. But you expected it to be something.
Yet nothing happened.
No electricity, no headache, no vision, no portal transportation. Just you and that strange man holding hands.
For a second you thought he was some type of creep, and you gathered all the magic you could feel ready to blow him the fuck away. But then his eyes became completely white, no iris and no pupils, and you gasped.
In a second his eyes came back to their usual very dark brown and he smiled.
“Tomorrow, come back here. Have a good night's sleep, that’s crucial. You’ll find him inside.”
“Why are you doing this?” you asked quickly before he could get up.
“I thought you wanted to know where he is.”
You cleared your throat. “I’m just generally curious about him and you and this situation. From an Academic point of view. I’ll write a paper.”
Mark nodded as if not believing one single word. “You’re useful to me.”
“How?”
“You’ll bother him a lot.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. You wanted to ask more questions but just like the first time he spoke to you, you blinked and he was gone.
That morning you woke up after a good night's sleep, completely unaware you were in a different Universe with the task of finding a man called Haechan.
Haechan, Jaemin and Jeno were in silence at the round table. The first had a concentrated face as if he were completely in his head. The second looked bored and the third was simply waiting.
“I know,” the Demon finally broke the silence. “Kimchi jjigae.”
Jaemin’s mouth opened while his eyes closed. “Unbelievable.”
Jeno looked like about to attack at any time. “Were you thinking about what to have for dinner this whole damn time? I thought we were on a mission.”
Haechan eyed the other’s veiny fists. “Chill out. I figured out the plan in the first three seconds and then I wondered about food for the rest of the time. Who do you think I am? I thought by now you would have known I am a genius. Olay, you-” he indicated to Jeno, “Selene. And you-” he said to Jaemin, “Doyoung.”
“I have to pretend to be Doyoung and romance Jeno, who's pretending to be Selene?” Jaemin asked, confused.
“I regret every waking hour that I helped you survive,” Jeno didn’t look amused.
Haechan sighed. “Jaemin, I did say you don’t have to think when I am around, but I didn’t mean you don’t have to use your brain at all.”
Jaemin leaned back in his chair with a smirk as if acting dumb has been his plan all along.
“I have to take care of Selene and Jaemin will take care of Doyoung. To push them together,” Jeno guessed.
Haechan nodded.
“And what will you do?” Jaemin asked.
“I’ll be the glue,” Haechan answered. “Selene is gullible as hell in this Universe. I was thinking something like giving her a Tarot reading. Telling her a man is coming and describing him exactly like Doyoung.”
He chuckled as if he was about to prank someone and the other two sighed.
“It’s going to be easy peasy lemon squeezy.”
Haechan watched Jeno trip on his own feet and scratched his eyebrow. “Okay, maybe it’s going to be more so difficult difficult lemon difficult.”
“I don’t know why I have to pretend to be a girl. I can be her friend even if I’m a man,” Jeno was mad, hands on his hips and long black hair in his face.
“Stressy depressy lemon zesty,” Jaemin commented from his chair after having a good laugh.
“I need you to be her only friend, my dude. Every single person in her life it’s going to be just you.”
“That’s fucking crazy. I feel sorry for Selene,” Jaemin sighed.
Jeno, or the woman who looked like someone related to Jeno, sighed and looked at herself in the mirror. “This is going to take a long time.”
“Consider this a vacation. Let’s take it easy. Where are we rushing? We have eternity. My book-” Haechan patted an old tome resting on his desk, “says wine business. There’s no way in hell she’s into the alcohol business right now. I stalked. She’s in her last year of university.”
“You’re a stalker?”
“I’m a Demon. That's basically the same thing."
"I am a Demon, and I am not a stalker," Woman-Jeno lifted one eyebrow.
Haechan felt weird seeing him like that. "Did you really have to make yourself this sexy? What if Doyoung falls in love with you instead of Selene? No. What if one of us falls in love with y-"
Woman-Jeno disappeared to show a very angry Man-Jeno about to whoop Haechan's ass.
The day felt quite cold and you shivered after opening the front door.
Was it already sweater weather? The song played in your head as you turned around to run the stairs and grab something warmer from your closet. It would be nice for someone to hold both of your hands in the holes of their sweater, you thought with a melancholic smile.
But there was no one.
After wearing a clean hoodie you noticed the corner of a red and gold scarf, hidden under piles of hats and gloves. You’ve never seen it before and you wondered if your grandma put it there when she announced she was cleaning her closet. Perhaps a nice scarf was needed that morning, you realized. You grabbed it and felt it between your fingertips. It was very good quality and almost pristine.
Why did your grandma give it away? Then you shrugged and put it on.
Running the stairs again your fingers brushed over the “HC” embroidered on the bottom and you made a mental note to search the brand online.
It was the first day of work after graduating from university and the only company that accepted your CV has been this shady wine company. They barely had any information online but the contract seemed legit. Your task was managing the social media accounts so it made sense for them to not have anything prior if they hired you. Ideally, you wanted to do something more artistic. Like doing art for some weird brand or-
you stopped in place. A tarot shop?
You looked around as if checking if others were curious about the place as you suddenly got too but there was no one around.
Weird, you thought. It was a Monday morning after all.
Your eyes darted towards the shop’s glass windows again. It was closed and the lights were turned off. Your reflection looked spectral and you blinked seeing how your lipstick was a little bit smudged on your chin.
Haechan inhaled suddenly, eyes on the outside of their fake Tarot shop. Behind the glass, you were trying to look inside. It was closed so you thought no one could see you while you were touching up on your makeup in the reflection.
Jeno and Jaemin looked at Haechan first then in the direction he was staring at since they felt him freeze up.
Jeno’s eyes widened at the sight.
Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows confused. “What’s up with you guys? Do you know her?”
Haechan stood up in a second, knocking down the crystal ball from the desk with a shattering sound but Jeno’s iron fist stopped him by grabbing his forearm.
“Don’t.”
Haechan’s eyes were incendiary. “Let go.”
“No.”
“I said-”
“What are you going to do huh? Talk to her? Say what? You’re a Demon and you just talked in another universe a few days ago which felt like years? She doesn’t remember you.” Jeno scolded him but his expression relaxed as Haechan looked up, exchanging a look with him. He looked devastated.
“Haechan…”
Haechan shook his head with a tired chuckle. “No, you’re right.” He sat back down and rested his head in his palm, pretending to be busy looking in his book. The crystal ball turned intact on his desk as if it never fell.
“Haechan?”
“Jeno, it’s okay. I said you’re right. I’m not going to do anything stupid-”
“No, dumbass. Look!” Jeno lightly hit his shoulder.
You adjusted the big red and yellow scarf around your neck in the window's reflection. Haechan could see the bright “HC” letters on the bottom of it as you walked away.
Haechan had to fight the urge to search for you. The Y/N you were in this universe wasn’t like the Slytherin he grew to-
To what?
Love?
Haechan wasn’t in love. He couldn’t be.
He was a Demon.
Whatever he felt in that Universe almost disappeared during the travel, proof that it was the human flesh he wore to be attracted to you and not his real self.
But you were wearing the scarf he left behind. That was impossible unless that version of you was the Slytherin.
But humans can’t travel.
Haechan shook his head. He opened his book and sighed. In a few months, he’d give a tarot reading to both Doyoung and Selene.
Time flies when you’re pretending to be human.
The cards were neatly piled up and he smiled. Just a simple tool and it makes people lose their minds. He grabbed them and shuffled, pulling a card for himself.
The Tower.
He furrowed his eyebrows and suddenly exhaled like a dog sensing danger, eyes trained on the entrance. He turned all of the candles off while turning invisible.
“Is anyone there?” your voice could be heard before Haechan could see your face peeking through the crack of the door. He could feel you coming.
“Hello? I saw the lights on and thought it was open. Are you already closing?” you asked again.
You stepped in cautiously and looked around with tight eyes, unable to see much.
Haechan turned on one candle on the desk. “Who are you?” he asked.
You muffled a scream with your palms. Your wide eyes looked around again but Haechan was still invisible.
“I-” you tried to speak. “I am Y/N. I was interested in getting a reading.”
Haechan chuckled silently. You didn’t look like you wanted the reading anymore.
He turned on the rest of the candles and the room warmed up while he appeared from the shadows, this time gently to not scare you any further.
“Welcome. You can sit down here,” he indicated in front of himself.
You exhaled and blinked, eying him from head to toe.
When you decided to finally enter that Tarot shop after walking in front of it for weeks you didn’t expect to be met by a very handsome young man.
The place has been creepy for a moment but then it became so cosy that you felt at ease on the chair, staring at the way the man’s fingers were expertly shuffling the cards. It almost put you to sleep.
His hands were delicate but manly, with a single ring adorning them, and a silver watch on his wrist.
You thought he looked too modern for being in a Tarot Shop.
“Can you please blow on these?” he asked.
“Huh?” you lifted your head to look him in the eyes. They were very warm but with a piercing darkness you didn’t like, as if something bad would happen if you stared too much into them.
“Oh, sure,” you did as you were told, hoping you didn’t have bad breath.
The man shuffled again and spread them in front of you.
“I’ll let you choose,” he said.
His voice was melodic like a snake playing with its prey.
You looked at the back of the dark red cards then exchanged a look again. “I didn’t say what my question is.”
“I know without you telling me.”
That amused you and the seed of wanting to prove him wrong got the best of you. “Really?”
The man nodded with a little cunning smile.
“What is it then?”
He leaned back in the chair and pushed back his hair. He definitely didn’t look like he knew what he was doing. Was his grandma - the actual tarot reader - in the toilet?
“Will I ever find someone to hold my hands in the holes of their sweater?” he whispered.
Your heart dropped.
“How do you know that?”
The man’s eyes twinkled. “It’s my job.”
You suddenly didn’t feel safe anymore but not in a bad way. You looked down at the cards and you chose one, turning it.
It was the Page of Swords, or at least that was written on it. The image was of a young boy holding, well, a sword.
You looked up at the man for an explanation.
“You’re asking a good question. It also means that you might find a lover in some kind of mentor or a studying field.”
“I’m done studying. I’m working now.”
“We’re never done learning.”
That sounded like something an old grandpa would say and the mixed signals that the young man was giving, both young and millennials years old, were throwing you off.
“So, I’ll find a lover in a teacher?” you were weirded out.
“Maybe. Or you’ll find a lover while you research something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Is there something on your mind that you want to research?”
“I wanted to research this place,” you started then ended with a lower voice, realizing how that could sound to him.
You weren’t trying to hit on him, although he looked- well he was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life. If you could have a lover to hold your hands in the holes of his sweater you’d definitely imagine him like the young tarot reader in front of you.
“Well, maybe you’ll find your lover like this.”
His expression didn’t give you any information on what he was thinking.
You looked back down at the card and pulled another one. It was Strength.
You couldn’t tell what that could mean regarding everything else. On it, a woman was grabbing a lion with the symbol of infinity on her head. She didn’t look afraid or tired. She looked at peace.
“Is that my lover?”
“The Lion?”
You nodded.
“That’s an enemy,” he explained.
“What? I don’t have enemies.”
The Tarot man’s eyes were flickering like the candles in front of him. “You have a task,” he whispered.
He looked like he was in a trance and for a moment it spooked you. The young man looked surprised. But then he looked at you. “Give me your hand.”
His tone was calm but intense and you didn’t even think of not doing as he said.
You noticed your fingers were trembling a little as you put your palm on top of his. His skin felt soft but firm, just like what you imagined a man’s touch would be like.
Nothing happened for a second but then the man screamed and got on his feet, holding his wrist with the other hand.
You got up as well, the incriminating palm to your mouth, watching in horror the way his fingers were turning charcoal black.
“What the fuck is going on? This is not a funny trick!” you accused him.
The young man didn’t pay any attention to you, his soft brown curls becoming jet black and straight in his eyes, the veins on his back popping as his mouth was open in a silent scream.
“I will- I will write a complaint!” you added, sure it was some kind of elaborate joke. “It is not okay to bring it this far!”
But then the man fell to his knees and on his side with a thud.
You ran around the table and crouched down, the sweat suddenly accumulated on your forehead making your eyes burn. Or maybe they were tears?
“Hey?” you whimpered, afraid to touch him a second time. “This is not funny, please stop,” you tried again and the drops that fell on his arm were tears, this time you were sure. They burned his shirt and blackened his skin. You put your palm on your mouth and slid back until hitting the desk with your blades.
With a loud thud the front door opened and a tall man appeared in front of you with the angriest expression you’ve ever seen on a human.
“What have you done?”
“I think you should sit down and have a cup of tea,” the young man you learned was called Jaemin addressed the tall and scary young man who interrogated you for what felt like while years while the Tarot man was lying unconscious on the couch. You were occupying the other one, right in the front with Jaemin, who kept pouring you tea although you didn’t want any anymore. The scary man never stopped pacing the room and you wondered when the floor would cave in.
“Don’t piss me off,” Jeno replied.
Jaemin rolled his eyes and although you were feeling sick to your stomach at the situation, his energy was very calming and healing, so you let the corner of your mouth turn up for a moment when he locked eyes with you.
“Maybe if you sit down, you can think better. I don’t think you’re able to do two things at the same time.”
“You think this is a time to joke.”
“I just got possessed by Haechan’s spirit while it left his body, I don’t know what to tell you.”
That was the first time they said the Tarot man’s name and you understood they were talking about him because they both stared at his unconscious face - Jaemin with actual worry that he was trying to hide with jokes and Jeno with love that he was trying to hide with anger.
You didn’t like the way Jaemin said that his spirit left his body.
They also said going to a hospital is not going to help so you stopped insisting. And when you asked who or what they were they didn’t reply.
Finally, when you asked what happened to Haechan, Jaemin made sure to assure you that you didn’t do anything wrong while Jeno was firm on the fact that Haechan would be awake if you never placed a foot in that shop in the first place.
You also regretted coming.
“Do you have any- adulterer adult to resolve this? Like a parent or a teacher?” you tried again with a timid voice. Jeno sighed as if annoyed to hear your voice while Jaemin poured some tea for himself and faced you like some sort of kindergarten teacher.
“That’s him.”
You took a few seconds to process.
“He-,” for some reason you felt too shy to pronounce his name, “is your parent?”
Jeno groaned again as if that would be his biggest nightmare and Jaemin laughed. “Not like that, but yes. For how weird it might seem, Haechan is the chaotic parental figure. If there’s something someone should know it’s usually him. If he didn’t foresee this happening, then we’re against-”
“Another parental figure,” Jeno interrupted.
Jaemin’s jovial expression dropped. The gaze he exchanged with Jeno was so intense and full of information that your intestines twirled on themselves.
“Why attack now?” Jaemin asked. You had no idea what was going on.
“He found a weakness,” Jeno replied and looked at you. His eyes weren’t kind.
“I am a weakness? For whom?” you were starting to get mad yourself.
That Tarot dude scared you to death, the other dudes interrogated you, keeping you there, blaming you for whatever happened, without wanting to explain anything, and now they accused you of something else too?
“Don’t answer that,” Haechan cawed.
Jeno moved so fast near the couch that for a moment you thought he teleported.
Maybe he did.
“Fuck man, I thought you were gone for good.”
“You would have liked to see me gone,” Haechan tried to cackle but groaned in pain instead.
Jaemin moved just as quickly and brought Haechan a glass of water. “Can you lift yourself? How are you feeling?”
“Oh,” his eyes were still closed, and he chuckled, “I feel like I’ve been to hell.”
The other men didn’t laugh with him and from their expression, it was as if Haechan literally descended into Hell in the past hour.
When he opened his eyes, his pupils were fixed on you, and you noticed how black they were. His burned hands were still black fading towards the middle of his forearms. You thought he’d leave prints on the glass, but he didn’t.
“Well, I didn’t expect that to happen,” he commented after finishing it. He let the others help him to sit up and when he extended his head back as if the movement caused him great pain you saw the lettering of a silver tattoo on his neck. You had no idea if he had it before. You slowly turned your head to the side to be able to see what was written but Haechan put a palm on it.
“Nosy,” he simply said.
You straightened your back, embarrassed.
“I think she needs to know,” Jaemin said suddenly.
They were talking about you as if you weren’t there. “What do I need to know?”
They ignored you. “I just need to stay away from her,” Haechan opened his eyes and stared at his burned hands with disgust.
“And will you?” Jeno wasn’t impressed.
“Are you joking? After the literal Hell I’ve been through? Of course, I will.”
You didn’t understand anything of what was being said but you somehow felt hurt.
“Okay, I am going home.”
“No, you’re not going anywhere,” Haechan stopped you in your tracks.
“Haechan,” Jeno’s voice was a low warning.
“I can’t let her roam around. Who knows what’s going to happen?” he explained extending his thin fingers.
“You can’t keep her near you. You’re Superman and she’s Kryptonite!” Jaemin added.
“I am a person, and I can hear you talk!” you raised your voice, and all the candles went off.
Jeno’s eyebrows were furrowed when he turned them on in the same instant.
“Was that you?” Haechan asked after a moment of silence. His tone was grave.
You gulped and stepped back. “No.”
They all exchanged a look as if to check if some of them did that instead, and then they looked at you again like some sort of Fates about to decide on your destiny.
“Get her,” Haechan spoke and in the same instant Jeno’s hands were on your arms, materializing in front of you.
Panic washed over you as you tried to escape but he was too strong. “Let me go! What are you doing? Back off!” you screamed.
Jeno’s body flew across the room, landing on the desk and crashing it. Jaemin stepped towards you, but you raised one arm and he got hung against the wall as if an invisible snake kept him in the air by the throat.
You turned around, trying to find a way to run towards the door by avoiding Jeno who was already on his feet and, if possible, even angrier than before. But someone’s shadow obscured your face and you realized you were mere centimetres from Haechan. You didn’t bother to understand how he moved so quickly to be there, but one thing you knew, your touch for him was deadly so just one little-
your body was frozen. You tried to speak but you couldn’t move, not even the tip of your tongue.
“Now,” Haechan sounded exhausted. “There’s no need to be this aggressive. We don’t want to hurt you. Although I see you have no issues hurting us.”
His eyes were even darker than before, accentuated by the black eye circles. He looked like someone who actually just returned from Hell.
“You’re going to get all the information you want but you need to be a good girl and stay here. Is this clear?”
As if he was giving you a choice.
“I’ll take it as a yes although you can’t move. Nice to see you again, miss Slytherin.”
You couldn’t remember when or how you fell asleep, if you did at all, or if they knocked you out instead.
But you woke up in a big white bed and you realized you were wearing soft orange pyjamas with sunflowers on. The shame and anger washed over you at the thought of any of those disgusting men undressing you while you were forcefully unconscious last night.
“I can sense you’re awake,” a voice you grew to find annoying could be heard behind the door. The room was spacious and airy. It was probably some guest room because it didn’t fit any of the dudes’ personalities.
“Can I come in? I have breakfast.”
“As if I have any choices to make,” you mumbled.
The door opened and Haechan walked in with a tray. “You can choose what to eat for breakfast.”
“Kidnapping, assault and battery, psychological abuse, conspiracy-”
“But I also have flaws.”
“Sexual-”
“Hey hey hey, no one did anything sexual,” he interrupted drawing the line at that.
“You changed me of my clothes into this!” you indicated your body. “While I was unconscious! Hell knows what you did to me!”
Haechan sighed and put the tray on the nightstand. Then he snapped his fingers, and you were back in your clothes.
They were dusty and sweaty.
“No one undressed you and no one did anything to you.”
You were still looking down at your body as if not believing you were awake.
Haechan snapped his fingers again and you were wearing a different set of clothes. Then another one.
Then a dress with heels.
Then a fur suit.
“Okay okay okay! I get it!”
Haechan snapped them again and you were back in your fuzzy pyjamas.
“Also, there was no assault, no psychological abuse, no conspiracy.”
“You did kidnap me though.”
Haechan thought about it for a moment turning his head to the side. “I did yes. It’s either kidnapping or me letting you go, but becoming your stalker. Choose.”
“I don’t understand why this is necessary.”
“Listen, I don’t want you here either, but I don’t trust you after what you did to me and-”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“You sent me to Hell.”
“You went there on your own!”
“How do I know you’re conspiring with Mark or not?”
“Who the fuck is Mark? You’re so worked up over a dude named Mark?”
Haechan closed his mouth and after a moment his whole body started to shake. You realized he was laughing.
“I’ve never realized how simple his name was. Doesn’t sound like a villain at all.”
“Well, because maybe he’s the good one and you’re the villain.”
Haechan’s smile disappeared and with it all the warmth in the room.
When he walked in he looked like a normal young man, a boy even. His hair was back to his soft brown curls and his hands weren’t burned up to the elbows anymore.
For a second you forgot what he was capable of or what he did the previous night.
Now he was showing you a little piece of that and you felt your spine shake.
“You’re right. Maybe I am. That’s what everyone says anyway.”
Haechan turned around and left the room without adding anything else.
You stared at the breakfast tray feeling a weird sensation of guilt.
The bedroom door was unlocked, you discovered, after taking a shower and debating whether you should trust the food Haechan brought you. But your growling stomach didn’t care so you had to trust that he still needed you alive, and if he had to kill you, he’d do it more interestingly.
You walked towards the corridor slowly, following the string of groans coming from what seemed like some sort of living room. It was almost identical to the room in the shop, and you realized you were probably on the second floor of the same building.
The groans kept going and when you peeked from the corner you were met with Jeno’s bloodshot eyes.
“I will kill you.”
You jumped in place.
“Now now, let’s calm down. It’s not her fault,” Jaemin talked with his kindergarten teacher’s voice and you noticed he was medicating wounds that made Jeno groan like that.
Then you noticed that Jeno was shirtless.
“What happened?”
“I went to see your grandma to make sure she’s not worried about you.”
You were surprised they’d do that.
“But the little grandma was a fucking wolf in disguise,” he added.
Jaemin chuckled. “Literally.”
You walked around to see wolf bites on Jeno’s back. “Oh my god.”
“Yep, a hellhound,” Jaemin explained.
“My grandma is a hellhound?” you felt your head pulsate.
“Of course, she’s not your grandma. You have no grandma because you’re not from this Universe,” Haechan appeared on the stairs.
He was addressing you but he didn’t look at your face once. “It was one of Mark’s henchmen tasked to make you believe you’ve been living a normal life here since birth.”
Haechan walked around Jeno as well and winced. “Why are they not healing?”
“Well, he’s a fucking dog from fucking underground and I’m an angel. My powers are limited.”
“You’re a Demon now. Stop using that word,” Haechan sat on the couch and exhaled as if exhausted. You wondered what he has been up to.
You felt just as exhausted, as if you started to watch a tv show in the middle of the season and you lost very important information. “What the hell are you all talking about? At this point, I think I’m due an explanation.”
Jaemin finished taking care of Jeno’s wide shoulders by the time Haechan finished his tale. You were sitting on the couch, the cup of coffee you were offered still intact and cold on the small table in front of you. Your muscles were stiff and your body paralyzed. This time, it wasn’t because of any of the dark powers those individuals possessed, it was just horror keeping you in place.
Haechan started from the beginning, recounting the time when he was an Angel (no, not the way you imagine, he scolded you when you asked about wings and halos), then he mentioned his departure from the City (that’s a story for another time, he cut it short when you asked what exactly happened), then he casually mentioned how he lived in this Hell Prison for millennials (time doesn’t exist, he rolled his eyes at the way you eyed him like he was some prehistoric grandpa), and finally, he recounted the way this dude, Kim Doyoung, came to his rescue and they signed a contract (contract with the Devil, you commented, and Haechan ignored you) to make him fall in love with his woman, Selene, in all lives possible.
“Well, and what does that have to do with me?” you asked.
“We met in another Universe while I was doing my little task and you’re from there.”
“How is that possible? I have no memory of it.”
“That’s what we’re trying to understand as well,” Jeno got up from his chair and grabbed a silky button-down, groaning a little when he lifted one arm to wear it.
“Do you have any proof of this?” you lifted your chin, surprised you still had a voice to ask questions.
Haechan’s eyes analyzed your features and your courage went missing.
“Your scarf,” he simply said.
You furrowed your eyebrows and looked towards the entrance where your coat and scarf were neatly hanging.
Then you understood.
“HC,” you exhaled and got on your feet to go and grab it. The letters were there on the edge of the red and gold woven material. “This is yours?”
Haechan didn’t confirm nor denied.
“Why do I have it?” you looked at him then at the others. Jaemin and Jeno avoided your gaze. “Were we close friends?”
Jeno cleared his throat and mumbled something about work, heading towards the entrance. Jaemin scratched his forehead and just backed away into the kitchen.
“Haechan?” you hesitated. For some reason, you felt like you had to use “sir” or “mister” when addressing him although you looked roughly the same age.
The young man bit his lower lip then finally let his gaze fall on the scarf and then your face. “We were acquaintances. Same University. We talked before, that’s it.”
Your voice was a whisper but Haechan’s demonic ears were very sensitive. “Then why am I your weakness?”
He got up and passed his hands on the dark jeans.
“Never said you were,” he tried to walk past you but you took a step to the side and blocked him. Your hands, holding the scarf, almost touched his arm and he winced, putting distance between you two.
“Sorry,” you realized.
The fact your touch was deadly to him was making you feel upset.
His story had many holes and you still had too many questions.
Maybe the reading was right. Maybe you did have a task, some research to do.
But was Haechan the lover holding the cup with you, or was he the enemy, the lion, in that story?
“Is this Mark person my lover then?”
Haechan’s eyes became black. He seemed irritated. “How would I know that?”
“Well, I clearly have no memories so you’re my only source of information.”
“Since you’re here to kill me and I can smell his magic all over you, then yes, I guess you two fuck. And maybe you’ve been fucking the whole time and I had no idea,” he replied in a low voice before heading down the stairs. “If you have any more questions don’t ask them.”
“Then what about you?” you raised your voice so he could hear you from downstairs. “Are you my lover?”
Haechan stopped and you watched his back.
“Whatever happened in that Universe doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” he answered then disappeared from your sight.
The place was quiet, safe for a low metallic noise coming from the kitchen. You walked towards the noise expecting someone cooking but instead you were met with Jeno’s dark eyes, shining only when the reflection of the knife he was sharpening would hit his irises. They shifted towards you to give you a single glance. He looked like a butcher.
“Are your wounds better?” you tried to be friendly with that grumpy man.
Jeno sighed. “Yes, thank you.”
You adjusted your posture. He was being an okay person?
You remained both quiet for a few moments, safe from the knife sound.
“If you need to say something, just say it,” he lifted one perfect eyebrow.
In the mess of it all, you’ve never realized how good looking everyone was.
Truly angels.
Or demons.
You inhaled and shifted the weight from one foot to the other.
“Has there been something between me and-” you hesitated, “Haechan?”
The man listened and remained quiet for a moment. He got a sense of deja-vu.
“Oh, we– don’t talk much.”
Jeno looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Why is that?”
You shrugged. Then you shivered. Apparently, having nude shoulders wasn’t only offensive for the Headmistress but also inconvenient for the autumn cold.
“He stopped talking to me all of sudden.”
“Maybe it’s for the better.”
You looked at Jeno’s chiselled jaw. “Why do you say that?”
“Haechan,” he started, “is not a great man. You should avoid him.”
“Because he’s a Demon?” you mumbled.
“I don’t know,” Jeno simply said. “It’s not important.”
“It is important to me. I have no memories. If you want me to stay here, you need to trust me.”
“Thing is-” Jeno threw the knife across the room. Its blade hit the poster and hung on the other wall exactly in the middle. The man walked towards it and grabbed it, feeling it with his thumb as if not completely satisfied. “-we don’t,” he finished.
“It is not my fault I have a deadly touch.”
“Maybe you’re a spy,” he commented, lifting one leg and putting the foot on the table. His combat boots were huge and the knife slid perfectly inside.
“I am not a spy! I don’t have any memories.”
“If you want to prove yourself, be quiet, and stay away from Haechan. That’s it.”
You hated him.
You hated everyone.
Maybe that Mark dude was right. Maybe he was the hero and everyone here was the enemy.
Maybe you were conspiring against them.
Maybe Mark was your lover.
Maybe you were the spy.
Maybe maybe maybe.
Deep in thought, you didn’t notice Haechan behind your back checking whether Jeno was ready.
“We’re going in five,” his low but melodic voice announced, and you jumped in place.
He was dressed for some kind of hunt too, you noticed - or assassination.
Haechan wasn’t carrying any swords or knives but the shadows curling around his legs told you he didn’t need any physical weapon to kill someone.
“Where are you going?”
“To catch a little bird,” Haechan replied, his back muscles flexing as he warmed up his wrists. Jeno was jacked, but you’ve never noticed how to fit Haechan was as well.
“I’m coming with you,” you crossed your arms on your chest, faking confidence. If they were going to meet Mark, you needed to be there as well. Maybe seeing him would make you gain your memories back or make you understand something about that crazy situation.
If what they were saying was true, you weren’t of that universe, you didn’t have a home or a sweet grandma.
You had nothing to lose.
“No, you’re not.”
“I have magical powers,” you reminded them, the thing still surreal to you. You had no clear idea of how to use them.
Haechan chuckled.
“Mark would probably want to see me,” you tried again.
Haechan’s jaw clenched. His eyes were as sharp as Jeno’s knives when he looked at you, like two dark cuts in that perfectly spectral face.
“This could be a trap,” Jeno’s voice was grave.
“What kind of trap can this be if I don’t even know where you’re going?” you scoffed.
“She has a point,” Haechan shrugged.
You hated how they always talked about you as if you weren’t there.
“Listen, you’re a Demon,” you suddenly said to him. It sounded like an accusation although you didn’t mean it to be. “The Demon. Lucifer Demon.” you added.
“What’s your point? Don’t waste our time.”
“Are you really not capable of– I don’t know, entering my mind and seeing if I am actually conspiring with this Mark dude or not?”
“You’d have a mental block anyway. Mark came in contact with you and sent you here. That is for sure, even if you don’t remember it. The reason why you’d accept to do that-” he interrupted himself, “that’s what we don’t know. And that’s why we don’t trust you.”
“What if I was just trying to find you?” you tried.
Haechan’s eyes shone but he shook his head. “Impossible.”
“Why? If I understood everything correctly, you guys suddenly left my home Universe. Maybe I wanted to find you again.”
Haechan’s mind went back to the last words you told him.
“It’s all your fault. If you knew all of this from the start, you should have just let me go.”
“I don’t think you’d do that,” he simply said and turned around.
You felt powerless.
“Haechan, please. Let me come with you,” you whispered.
The Demon stopped in his tracks and exhaled as if annoyed. Then with a snap of his fingers, you got covered in firm black combat clothes. They were so heavy that you almost fell backwards.
“Just keep up with us if you don’t want to be left behind,” he mumbled, descending the stairs.
Jeno grunted and followed him.
“So, she is a weakness after all, deadly touch or not,” you could hear Jeno comment.
“Shut up.”
Holding Jeno’s hand to travel the space-time wasn’t as unpleasant as you initially thought. No falling and no head spinning. Just close your eyes and open them to a different place.
The unpleasant thing was his reaction though.
Jeno let go of your hand as soon as he could. You could almost see the way he had to force himself to not clean it on his pants.
You wondered if given other circumstances Haechan would have been the one holding it for you.
Your eyes darted to his fingers wrapped in something that reminded you of a sword but it was made of pure shadow instead. Then your pupils focused on the surroundings. It looked like an abandoned warehouse, nothing majestic and Archangel-like.
What if they couldn’t find Mark there?
“But you did find me,” a melodious voice whispered behind you. You screamed and turned around. Haechan tried to move between you two, but Mark was quicker.
One palm cupped your face and the other one slid on your waist. His lips felt warm and soft on yours, slightly ajar to make them fit almost perfectly together.
“Hello, my love. Thank you for bringing them to me,” he smiled.
You didn’t have time to process anything.
Mark - or whomever the person in front of you was - disappeared from your sight, harshly knocked down by Haechan’s thighs, tightly pressing on his throat.
“If you fucking dare to touch her again I will kill you.”
The view was impressionable, and you realized you were shaking.
On the surface they were just two young men, one on his back and Haechan knee on his throat, eyes hidden by the black straight hair you understood by now was his real appearance, and the tattoo on his neck finally fully visible - Donghyuck.
But it was their energy that you could feel, like two black holes about to meet and merge in the most explosive event in history.
“Unleashing your full powers on me, Haechannie? I haven’t seen you like that in so long.”
Mark’s clear and calm voice echoed in the warehouse.
Jeno took a step, and you felt his hand lightly push you behind him.
He looked tense.
“And who do we have here? Commander Jeno Lee went to the dark side?”
Mark’s carbon eyes moved from Haechan to the other man. Jeno’s expression didn’t change but you saw the way his forearm’s veins looked more prominent.
Haechan groaned, pushing his knee further into Mark’s throat. “Enough talking. You sent her to kill me, yes or no?”
Mark didn’t look bothered although a choking sound came from his mouth, as if he was letting Haechan do that.
In fact, he grinned, with perfect white teeth, and appeared in a different spot of the warehouse, at a good distance.
Jeno’s arm snaked around you as if he was afraid Mark would take you with him and Haechan just slowly got up on his feet, as if he also let Mark do that.
“Y/N, darling, did I send you to kill Haechan?” Mark looked at you and you eyed his lips, moving slowly around the letters of your name, the same lips that kissed you just moments ago.
Haechan’s gaze was heavy, staring at every glance you and Mark exchanged as if he could read into that.
“I didn’t. You chose to come here and kill him yourself, right?” Mark answered for you.
And what you saw next made you gulp and want to lean on someone, but Jeno took a step away, as if he saw that fragment of memory too and didn’t want to be close to you anymore.
“A tarot shop?”
Mark nodded.
“And he’s there.”
He nodded again.
“How do I reach him?”
Mark extended one hand on the table. You looked at his fingers. The palm was facing up and he had one faint scar in the middle of it.
“Touch me,” he whispered.
“Enough,” Haechan’s voice was loud and deep.
You looked at him and his eyes were bloodshot with hidden rage.
“Unfortunately, I can’t get your memories back because you were the one erasing them but I can show you mine,” Mark spoke to you. “If you don’t remember me at least I hope you can sense what we,” he stopped as if a bit embarrassed, “shared together in the past, my love.”
You felt your throat close. Mark was standing there, chiselled face and perfect posture, his wide eyes looking angelic and the light shining from his essence as he extended his hand towards you calling to you.
Then you looked at Haechan, shadows slowly creeping around his feet and his eyes, sending shivers down your spine.
“You tricked us the whole time,” Jeno growled but Haechan stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“Stop it. Don’t humiliate yourself.”
“You pretended all of that time. You make me sick,” Jeno didn’t stop.
His rage was burning so you took a step back. You had no idea what to think.
Mark appeared near you, but you didn’t know if you should feel any safer.
If what Mark was saying was true, he was your lover and for some reason you forgot, you decided to find Haechan and kill him, thus explaining your killing touch. A
nd from Jeno and Haechan’s reaction you must have become their friend while working in incognito and now they felt betrayed.
It all made sense. It all clicked together.
But for some reason you felt sick.
“Mark,” you whispered, slowly turning towards the Archangel. The tattoo of a pair of wings was shining on his arms in the same ink as the name on his neck.
“Yes?” he grabbed your hands with both of his and you let him do that, staring at the perfect nails for a moment.
“If you’re a good angel, why do you collaborate with hellhounds?” you simply asked, your fingers grabbing his palms tightly and making him wince in pain.
“Now!” you yelled.
Haechan appeared behind his back and grabbing his throat they disappeared together from your sight.
Your knees felt wobble and you sunk on them. Whatever magic trick you’ve done to Mark it took all energy from your body.
“Where are they?” you wondered. “You need to follow.”
Jeno took a few steps forward, eyes staring away as if ready to see them appear back anytime soon. “Haechan would kill me if I leave you alone and vulnerable. He can handle it alone.”
A cold sensation wrapped you. “They’re going to kill each other.”
“That’s the goal, yes.”
“Why? Why do they hate each other that much?”
“That’s a tale Haechan has to tell. I’m not sure of the reasoning myself,” he replied then turned to face you, eyeing you sitting down on the freezing and dusty warehouse floor. “Why did you help us?”
“I didn’t help you.”
“You didn’t go with Mark.”
“I don’t trust him. And no, I don’t trust you two either. I don’t trust anyone. I will not trust any of you. I helped myself.”
Jeno’s inquisitory gaze danced on you and his jaw flinched as if thinking whether that was another trick of yours or not.
“I got involved in something that has nothing to do with me,” you continued, a burning rage finally warming your body. “And that dude Mark is lying.”
“How do you know?”
You gulped, staring at your shaking hands, resting on your knees. “I don’t know. I can feel it.”
“You’re a Slytherin,” Haechan’s rough voice made you jump in place. “You people can sense lies.”
He appeared a few steps away from where he disappeared.
“Are you okay?” you couldn’t help but ask, swiftly getting on your feet.
Haechan walked the distance and grabbed Jeno’s hand. The latter’s eyes unfocused as if he was downloading information then he nodded and disappeared.
“Don’t ask me questions as if you care,” his breath was heavy, and he unclasped the hard outwear to reveal the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath.
He lifted it.
Silver shadows were tangled around his torso, on his skin, and he groaned as if they were painful.
You didn’t notice when Jaemin came around, his hands on your back making you yelp.
“Take her home. I can’t touch her,” was the last thing Haechan said before you saw the darkness.
When you opened your eyes you were on the couch of that same apartment, familiar voices discussing in the background.
For a moment you wondered if everything you’ve been through has been a dream and if those voices were your family you couldn’t exactly remember because of the hazy of the dream.
But when you opened your eyes, reality crashed back on you.
“...lost him after that. Sent a few of them to Hell,” Jeno was narrating, sitting tall on a chair with crossed arms on his chest.
Haechan was mirroring him, sitting backwards on another chair, a tired Jaemin working on something on the Demon’s back.
The silver strips.
“Thank you, man,” Haechan murmured and Jaemin winked at him.
“What were they?” you asked, sitting up and feeling your head heavy.
Jaemin grabbed the strips he presumably took from Haechan’s body and sighed. “Angelic snakes or some weird stuff like that.”
You grimaced as Jaemin went outside to probably get rid of them.
“Why that face? You’re a Slytherin. Snakes are your thing,” Jeno commented.
You understood by now that everything they said made no sense to you.
“Where is Mark?” you asked instead.
The two men exchanged a look. “He escaped,” Haechan was the one to reply.
You took in the information.
“I guess you’re delighted I didn’t kill your lover,” he added.
“He is not my lover,” you replied back, still unsure of the dynamics. Haechan’s gaze was grave, and you felt unable to look away. Jeno sensed you two would get into a serious talk and wisely decided to walk outside the room in silence. The air felt thick and heavy afterwards.
“Can you just-,” you started, “can you do what Mark did? Show me some of your memories?”
Haechan looked away and grabbed his t-shirt, wearing it quickly. “What memories?” he asked.
“Of us.”
“None of them are exciting,” he replied as if wanting to end the conversation there.
You stood on your feet and walked the distance towards the chair Jeno abandoned.
“You said we were acquaintances. Mere colleagues in University. Yet you reacted like my betrayal, or whatever the hell I supposedly did to you, could almost kill you.”
Haechan scoffed. “I didn’t react that dramatically.”
You didn’t say anything else, your gaze connected with his in a silent order as you sat down in front of him.
The young man sighed and you didn’t see him anymore.
You saw yourself in a uniform, a loose green tie around your neck. You were in Haechan’s body, staring at his memories from his point of view. Haechan jolted at the sudden foot hitting his ankle.
“If you don’t stop being so fucking creepy to women I’ll make you stop with my own hands,” you said.
Then the scene changed. Haechan swiftly put one hand on your nape and the other on your mouth in a mortal clasp. "That’s not something the whole campus needs to know, now, what do you think?" His whisper was so close that you smelled the sweet chewing gum on his tongue.
Then another day, you were writing in his hand because he took away your voice. “Oh my God, stop or people are going to think you’re into me,” he giggled teasingly. You let his hand suddenly fall and looked around scandalized. You could see the way you were flustered.
Then another. You were leaning on a wall, with Haechan in front of you. “Are you nervous?” he asked genuinely, gaze dropping to your chest as if he could actually see your heart through your flesh. You inhaled scandalized and covered your breasts with your arms.
Then other scenes, going quickly.
A peck in a corridor, then a full-blown kiss.
The feeling of his lips.
His hands on you.
His deep voice.
“So are you into demons? That’s why you’re into me?”
His thumb circling your back.
You sitting in his lap. His body pressed against you. A room filled with water, both wet, making out, his mouth on your bare breasts, your moans, his fingers inside of you, you palm swiftly around his-
“Okay enough!” you got on your feet.
You were panting and you could feel your body on fire. You brought a hand to your throat as if it could help you swallow the sudden lump.
You walked away from him, taking a few steps, but then you stopped, unsure of what to do with yourself.
“It’s okay. Don’t panic,” Haechan’s low voice was surprisingly sweet.
You eyed him for a moment. He didn’t look bothered like you, safe for the shining eyes and the nervous fingers pulling at a single thread of his shirt.
“How do I know this is the truth?” your voice was a whisper.
When you asked him to show you his memories you somehow didn’t expect you two to have been that… intimate.
“You said you know when people lie. What do you think? You think I’m lying?”
Your rational side was screaming at you to say yes, to run away from Haechan and his shadows, but your gut was pushing you towards him instead.
You didn’t know whom to trust.
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t know if you’re lying either,” he replied. “I don’t trust you. And now you know why your betrayal,” he paused as if unsure of what words to use, “was so surprising.”
“I don’t trust myself either,” you sat on the couch, away from him. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m a spy or not. I don’t know if I originally decided to kill you or not. I don’t know if I’ve always lied to you even when we-” you interrupted yourself and gulped, the flashes of his mouth on you making you dizzy. “So you’re doing well. Don’t trust me. Because I don’t know anything.”
The silence felt heavy and you could see the same inner fight inside of Haechan as well.
“Why did you stay with us?” Haechan looked young and vulnerable in his chair.
He looked the most human you’ve ever seen him.
“Do I have a choice?”
“You could have gone with him.”
“I don’t even know him.”
“Do you know me?”
You bit your lip. “Somehow I think I do.”
Haechan’s eyes felt almost warm and the setting sun made his skin lit up like honey.
How could Demons look like that?
You had no idea how you were looking at him but he suddenly sat up and turned around, one hand in his fluffy - and now back to brown - curls. “Ah, you’re fucking with my brain,” he mumbled.
You closed your eyes and sighed. “I am not.”
Haechan chuckled dryly. “For being a hag of a dark entity you’d think I would be more capable of not being manipulated. The human world always messes up with me,” he added the last phrase quietly, almost to himself only.
“I am not manipulating you. Since I’ve met you, in this world,” you precised, “I’ve done nothing but be truthful with you. I have no memories so of course I have no idea of my previous intentions and I don’t know if I am here now to look for you because I love you and you abandoned me or to kill you. Maybe both.”
Haechan’s eyes lit up at your words and he looked at you over his shoulder first.
Then he walked the distance so quickly that you inhaled and took small steps behind until hitting the couch with your calves.
“I will be delusional for a moment and believe Mark looked for you after I,” he gulped, “left, and you were angry at me enough to start working with him and come and kill me.” His voice was an intimidating whisper and you couldn’t help but feel the tension in all of your muscles. He has never been this close.
You could feel his warm breath on your face and the scent of his cologne. Your thigh muscles started to shake and you didn’t know if it was because of the effort of staying away from him, fear, anger, or-
“Would that make sense?” he continued. If he noticed your reaction his face didn’t communicate it.
“Why not?”
“Would your love turn into hate this quickly? Or maybe there wasn’t any love there in the first place and all of this time you’ve just been fucking that son of a bitch while playing me. Which one makes more sense?”
“You want me to hate you so badly,” you lifted your chin. Your thigh muscle stopped shaking and you leaned in.
Haechan flinched but he didn’t move away.
“You want me to look you in the eyes and scream that I hate you and I want you dead because it would make things for you easier, right? Why aren’t you honest with yourself?”
Haechan inhaled then scoffed. “You want honesty? What do you want me to say? That I’m happy to see you? That I hoped you actually came to find me? That it kills me to not be able to touch you because I might go to hell while that jerk can kiss you? That I might go insane anytime soon and actually touch you even if that means I’d go to the damned hell and take this whole shitty world with me? Fuck,” he turned around and you could only stare at his back getting farther away as he walked towards his chair, his shoulder blades moving up and down following his heavy breath.
You put a hand to your chest, feeling your own breath just as quickly.
“You already know about my touch. What else would have I prepared for your downfall? Nothing. I have nothing on you. You can trust me now.”
“You destabilize me. I am on a mission. I have a task and you’re here and all I think about is you. This is what you have on me.”
“This is also why you left, right? Your grand mission. Much more important than anything else. Much more important than me.”
Haechan didn’t say anything.
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone.”
“You can’t go anywhere,” he turned around.
“I’m not welcome here.”
“He’ll get to you.”
“Let him come.”
“Y/N.”
“Haechan.”
His name took you both by surprise.
“What do you want me to do then? Lock myself in a room forever so I don’t bother you and your task? I can’t be here, I can’t go away. What do you want me to do?”
“Just stay here. I’m not a piss boy. I can handle your presence,” he finally murmured. “And you can come in now,” he said louder.
Jeno and Jaemin awkwardly entered the living room.
“Thank God, I was starving and the fridge is on the other side of this fucking house.”
You didn’t sleep much at night.
The conversation you had with Haechan kept replying in your head.
His words, his feelings, his eyes, the scenes he played out for you.
You felt exhausted.
So much happened in the past couple of days that you felt like a brand new person.
You learned a lot but you didn’t gain any memories. They were tales told to you but you couldn’t find them in your brain or heart.
Was Haechan truly the one he said he was? Was Mark setting you up? Why did he pretend he was your lover then? Why did he kiss you? So many questions and infinite possibilities.
What if Haechan was right? What if you’ve always been on Mark’s side and you tricked him? But what if you actually fell in love? Or what if you were just looking for him? What if Mark was tricking you all?
You huffed and rolled on one side. Why didn’t Haechan bring you with him? Why did he leave you? You exhaled. You rolled on the other side.
“Stop huffing and moving. I can’t fall asleep.”
You opened your eyes in shock.
“What?” you thought.
“I said-”
You sat up. “Why are you in my brain?”
Haechan’s roll of eyes could be almost heard through the walls. “We’ve done this before. It’s called talking telepathically.”
“How is this possible?”
“I’m a Demon.”
“And me?”
“I don’t know. Technically you shouldn’t be able to reply back. Mark must have given you some sick powers while you two were fucking.”
You let yourself fall down on the pillows and crossed your arms on your chest.
“Again with this story. We’re not fucking.”
“You wouldn’t know that.”
“I’m not a cheater,” you were growing irritated.
“We have never dated. I wouldn’t blame you for it.”
“The thought pisses me off.”
Haechan didn’t reply but you could sense he was amused and pleased. You didn’t like that he infiltrated your head but a heaviness in your chest disappeared after seeing him in a good mood.
“How did you get into my head?” you asked again.
“You don’t have any blocks. Thought you did.”
“Does it mean you can look and see if I am lying or not?”
“I’d need to touch you for that.”
Right.
“Can Jeno do it?”
“No.”
“I thought he was also a Demon with your same powers.”
“He’s capable of doing it. But I will not allow it.”
“Why not?”
Haechan hesitated. “It’s very invasive.”
“Is it dangerous for me?”
“I’m not letting Jeno Lee see the depths of you.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Alright,” you thought. “I will try to fall asleep so your demonic ass and your superhuman hearing can also rest.”
You expected Haechan to chuckle or at least reply with a grunt but whatever mind connection there was it disappeared.
You sighed and turned around again, fluffing the pillow with one hand. But the moment you closed your eyes you heard his voice in your head, low and warm but clear.
“I am sorry for abandoning you.”
You opened your eyes.
Haechan continued. “I thought I was making the right choice. You said you didn’t want to do anything with me anymore. I thought we were over.”
You didn’t know what to reply to.
“If I don’t complete this fucking important mission as you call it, I will vanish.”
“Why can’t both things coexist?” you asked.
“You’re human,” he simply said. “I thought you’d live a good life without me. I erased your memories. I don’t understand-” he interrupted himself and you didn’t know why. You felt a sudden lump in your throat and you didn’t know if it were you or you were just sensing his emotions. “-I don’t understand how you got here. This is why I don’t believe you came to look for me. Because you couldn’t have remembered me in the first place.”
You felt tears prickle your eyes.
“This is the moment to tell me the truth, please, Y/N. Maybe you enjoy torturing me but it’s too late to keep playing. Just tell me the truth.”
“I swear-” you started, “I have no idea. I wish I could tell you.”
No thought came from Haechan for a moment then he said a single “Alright.”
“Haechan?”
“Yes.”
“In the warehouse,” you started. “Right before Mark appeared, I had a thought.”
Haechan waited.
“I thought what if we can’t find him there. And the first thing he said-”
“But you found me,” Haechan completed the thought for you. “I don’t know if he can read your mind or whatever Archangels ended up being able to master all of this time I’ve been away. But it could also mean you might have a connection with him.”
“What kind of connection?”
“The spell you have on yourself. Your deadly touch. He obviously put that on you. I don’t know if by force or if you accepted it willingly. But it might explain things.”
“Do you think he can- listen now?”
“Maybe.”
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
“He can listen either way. And if you keep thinking about me maybe it will piss him off.”
You lifted one eyebrow, the flirty reply to your serious concern making you scoff.
Haechan didn’t say anything else but you could still sense his presence. It was weirdly comforting and it lulled you to sleep.
In the morning you discovered Jeno and Jaemin were on their missions to bring the famous Doyoung and Selene together. You didn’t even know them, but they were kind of pissing you off. The fact they needed a Demon to bring them together instead of actually working on it themselves was also ridiculous.
Haechan was downstairs, sitting down at his Tarot desk and staring into a glass globe.
“Are you actually spying on them? Like a stalker?”
The young man chuckled as you walked behind his back.
“That can’t be legal,” you added and sat down on the other chair in front of him.
Haechan lifted his eyes under his soft fringe and a mischievous twinkle sparkled in them.
“I am an evil Demon,” he reminded you.
You took a sip out of your coffee and sighed. “Well, I guess this is the least evil thing you’ve done off of your list of crimes.”
Haechan passed one hand on the ball and the images disappeared.
“Does that thing really work or is it your demonic power?”
“Just my demonic power,” he smiled.
“The tarots too?”
Haechan looked at the pile of cards with fondness. “Yeah. They’re just paper.”
“So did you choose the cards on purpose for me to pick?” you felt amused but betrayed.
“Actually,” he was still staring at the cards, “I didn’t.”
You looked at them too. “May I?” you asked and Haechan gave you a single nod.
The cards were luscious in your hands and felt expensive. You stared at the images on them.
“You said I had a task.”
Haechan’s eyes were on your fingers, unsuccessfully trying to shuffle them.
“I could feel that. Everything I said during the reading is true. You have a task and I wanted to see what it was about in your head, but-”
Your mind went back to his scream and the way he plopped on the floor as he touched your hand.
“Do you still think I am here to kill you and that I work with Mark?”
Haechan shrugged. “At this point I don’t know if I care.”
That stung your heart.
“What happens when you’re done with this Universe?”
“I move to another. And another. And another.”
You took a card from the pile and turned it towards you. Two of cups.
Haechan’s eyes fell on it too.
“And what about me? Are you going to take me with you so you’re not living in fear of me randomly attacking you or will you bring me back to my old Universe and erase my memories the way you did it once?”
The card had two people on it, both with a cup in their hands. Above them was a lion with angel wings. Below it was a caduceus - the medical symbol with two snakes.
“I still don’t know,” was Haechan’s answer.
“What does this card mean?” you lifted your gaze to realize Haechan was already looking at you, chin resting on his fingers. The sun was shining brightly, the last rays of the sun for that year, and his eyes looked like fudge. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was about to lean in and kiss you.
“Union,” he started. “Attraction. Love.”
You gulped and broke eye contact to stare at the card again.
“Longing for someone,” he continued. “Healing broken ties. Being drawn to someone.”
You felt difficulty breathing.
“Discovering a feeling is mutual,” he finished in a whisper.
You dared to look up again and regretted it. The sensation of him caressing you with his mind crept into your body.
“Don’t do this.”
“I’m not doing anything,” he replied.
“You’re doing something right now. My body feels-” you interrupted yourself feeling very ashamed.
Haechan smiled. “That’s called being turned on.”
“Well, stop turning me on with your demonic powers then.”
“That’s just human,” he explained.
You wanted to get up and run away but your knees felt weak. But if you stayed there you were afraid you would end up touching him. His hand was on the desk, mere centimetres away from you.
“I am dangerous for you. Please go away,” you almost mewled.
“Mark really has a hidden sense of humour,” Haechan exhaled, stretching his arms back and sliding his chair away from the table. It looked as if it took him a huge amount of effort to do that.
“He doesn’t want me dead. He wants to torture me,” he added, eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Can I ask what he is for you?” You felt better to have Haechan at a healthy distance and the air started to flow normally in your lungs.
“I don’t even know,” the Demon murmured. “We used to be friends. Then he betrayed me. In his perspective, I betrayed him, so I am not sure of the current dynamics.”
You remained quiet.
Haechan’s adam’s apple moved up and down in his throat and you realized you were staring at his silky skin when his gaze connected with yours instead.
“I don’t think I could ever have any desire to kill you,” you found yourself murmuring.
The young man’s lips stretched in a little smile. His dark and lazy expression felt like burning your face and at that point you had no idea if it was his demon powers or just human emotion as he said.
“I am glad,” he replied.
“I really wish you could trust me. I can help you.”
Haechan got up, the tarot cards still spread in front of him. He dragged his fingers on top of them when a card flipped out. It was the Knight of Swords.
“How?” he asked although his furrowed eyebrows gave him the air of already knowing the answer.
You got up as well. “I can spy for you.”
He shook his head before you could finish.
“Haechan-”
“No. I can’t bear the thought of you with him.”
You closed your mouth. His silver tattoo was slowly appearing on his neck and the way his hair darkened all of a sudden gave you the impression that he was losing control.
You really wished you could touch him.
“Aren’t you curious as to why I am here? How I got here? In another universe? Why I am still me and not my counterpart?”
“Yes, but you will not do anything about it. I’ll take care of it.”
“Haechan,” you took a few steps towards him. The man turned around.
“Stop saying my name like that,” he sounded pained.
His back was right in front of you, wide in his black t-shirt. You didn’t notice the tattoo he had on it, peeking a bit from under his collar to his nape. You wondered how the design looked like and why he concealed it before - what that meant for him.
“I can almost feel your gaze on me,” he whispered.
“What happened when I touched you? Was it painful? Was it really hell?”
Haechan didn’t reply for a few moments, and you bit your lower lips. Perhaps you shouldn’t have asked.
“You don’t have to know,” he turned around slowly. His scent engulfed you in the movement and you felt your throat close.
Maybe you looked at each other for too long. Or maybe you were imperceptibly getting too close, but he inhaled.
“We can’t,” he added with the same tone. You didn’t know what expression you had on to make him say that, but you knew what he was talking about.
“I know,” you whispered. “I know,” you repeated, rubbing your knuckles on one temple. But you couldn’t move away. “Fuck.”
You turned back your seat and exhaled.
Haechan was motionless in the same spot.
“What does the Knight of Swords mean?” you asked, eyeing the flipped card. You desperately needed to think about something else.
The young man turned around the chair and sat on it with his chin resting on his folded arms.
“Action,” he simply replied.
You smiled. “That’s it?”
Haechan’s expression relaxed. He hummed. “Do I look like an actual Tarot Reader to you?”
You chuckled. “To be honest, not at all. When I first arrived here I was expecting some old lady or something.”
Before you could add something else an older lady was sitting in Haechan’s place and you suppressed a little scream.
“Oh my God. Can you actually do that?” you put one hand to your mouth.
The lady chuckled slowly. “Cool, huh?”
“Okay okay, go back, please. This is creeping me out.”
Haechan’s features appeared back on the woman’s face, and he was there again. You looked at each other for a longer moment and you forced yourself too look away.
“Is there any fun reading I can get? I’m sick of future and predictions.”
Haechan hummed. “There is one.”
You stared at his ring then at his wristwatch, not wanting to risk looking him in the eyes again.
“What is it?”
“Would you be interested in knowing your sexual energy?”
You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “You’re going to make it all up on the spot, aren’t you?”
Haechan’s little smirk was daring. “Try it out and don’t blame me if it’s too accurate.”
You exhaled and stared down at the spread.
You grabbed a random card and turned it around.
“Chariot is self-restraint. Quiet alone time. Might indicate edging or masturbation.”
You gulped. “You can’t possibly know all that from a card, can you?”
Haechan chuckled and shrugged.
“Do you want another card?”
You inhaled and bit your lower lip. You wanted to prove him wrong. With a decisive movement you flipped another card and watched the way Haechan stared at it. It was the Devil. You lifted your chin.
“Now don’t tell me I’m into chains and stuff because it’s drawn on it.”
Haechan’s eyes shone under his eyelashes. “No. This is Temptation. You want something very badly although you know it’s bad for you. It’s about wants, desires, lust, carnality, senses, pleasure and all things erotic-”
“Alright!” you stopped him.
Haechan licked his lower lip as if enjoying himself way too much. “The object of desire can be some kind of forbidden love, or-” he stopped.
You waited.
“It’s the Devil card. Maybe you really desire, I don’t know, some kind of Demon,” he concluded and you huffed when you realized where he was going with that. You grabbed the card and threw it at him. He caught it with his perfect teeth and laughed.
“You’re playing with me right now.”
“I am being truthful. Pick another card.”
You inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm your nerves. The last card was the Queen of Wands. It looked innocuous and you wondered what story Haechan will make about it.
“Mmm,” he hummed pleased. He grabbed it and turned it towards you, keeping it in front of his face. “Making me blush,” he murmured.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “What does it mean?”
“This is someone who is shy.”
“I am not shy,” you tried to argue although your knees were starting to shake.
“Then,” he thought about it for a moment, “modest. Takes a while to relax.”
You gulped. His eyes looked feline and his voice sounded lower and smoother.
“The virginity card,” he continued.
You opened your mouth to speak but you stopped. Haechan waited.
“I have-,” you started then stopped again. “I don’t know if-”
Your eyes searched for his as if he could have any information. Haechan’s cheeks bloomed with a very faint shade of red that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t that close to him.
“Last time I personally checked you were still a virgin, if that’s what you wanted to know,” he gave you the answer. “It doesn’t matter though. This card talks about wanting something pure, not necessarily the literal meaning. The sensation of doing it for the first time. Being taken care of,” he added.
“Have we never-” you tried to speak again but couldn’t finish.
“Virginity is a construct, it doesn’t exist.”
You closed your eyes for a moment. “I know I know. Just- I just want to know what-”
“We never had penetrative sex, no,” he concluded.
You wanted to hide at the choice of words. He chuckled.
“Next card?” he offered.
“I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” you rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand to cool them down. But the little smile on his face and the intimate moment made you enjoy his company and you didn’t want it to end. So you flipped yet another one.
Nine of wands.
Your gazes met again after staring at the piece of paper.
His lips looked plump when they moved to speak. The sun setting made the room dark and the few candles just accentuated Haechan’s jaw and the shadows on his chiselled face.
“It means - keep going,” he murmured, “don’t stop, again, I can’t take this anymore, please.”
The air felt heavy and you desperately wanted to walk away and get a breath of fresh air, but for some reason your brain was telling you the only way to breathe properly was by kissing Haechan’s lips.
The sound that escaped his mouth was almost a plea, as you got up and placed both of your palms on the desk right in front of him. He lifted his face to see you. His eyes were begging and you didn’t know what for.
“Tell me to stop,” you whispered. “Tell me to stop and I will,” you leaned down and Haechan’s soft fringe moved gently under your shaky breath.
He gulped and the view of his desperate expression made you almost whine. “I don’t think I can take this anymore, please just-”
You couldn’t finish the phrase. Haechan’s lips on yours felt better than you could have ever imagined and his hands grabbing at each side of your face, pulling you towards him made you melt in his touch. For a moment or many, you couldn’t think. You weren’t brain anymore or conscience. You were just lips and skin, just lungs to breathe in his scent.
But then he wasn’t there anymore. The abrupt separation made you exhale and you opened your eyes.
But Haechan didn’t disappear. He was in front of you, eyes wide open and shining, surprised as you.
You were probably mirroring his expression. “Are you okay?” you tried to speak.
You lifted one hand to place it on his face as if not believing he was there, and he closed his eyes, letting his head rest better in it. “I am okay,” he whispered. Then he placed his own hand on top of yours, sliding his face to kiss your palm. Then he kissed it again. And again. Then he pulled you closer, getting up so fast you didn’t make sense of how he made you sit on the desk getting so close that the only thing you could do was wrap your arms around his neck and let him guide the kiss the way he wished. It was only when he started to adventure on your jaw instead, going around it to reach the soft spot under your ear that you managed to breathe out.
“What about-” your fingers dug into his shirt, gathering the material underneath them, “the curse? The touch?”
Haechan ignored you, peppering wet kisses all over your throat, making your breath quiver and your legs tighten around his hips.
Your hands moved from his hard shoulders to his hair, finally sliding your fingers into the thickness of it, feeling how soft it was. Every touch on your skin felt like burning and you didn’t know if it was good or bad but it felt so nice you didn’t want him to stop.
“Haechan,” you moaned when he slid his thumbs on top of your bust, pulling down your shirt for a moment and the bra with it. His hands went to your spine, supporting you and pushing his face against your breasts, making you throw your head back. The view made him grunt and he came back to the base of your throat, sucking on the tender skin until it stung, and wetting the spots with his tongue. That tongue then slid into your mouth again, both whining into each other’s mouths, too hungry for touch to let yourselves breathe properly.
“You look like you’re in pain. Are you sure you’re okay?” you managed to talk again as he rested his forehead on yours for a moment.
“I am in pain because I feel like I’m going to cum in my fucking pants any moment now,” his eyes twinkled and your thighs twitched under his fingertips, gently going up and down on top of your jeans. “I don’t know why I am still here and not getting tortured somewhere underground right now but I want to make the most of it if perhaps I need to go soon.”
The implication of that made your skin shiver. You didn’t know if you wanted to know what the most of it meant.
“Are you scared?” he murmured against your ear. “You can tell me to stop and I will,” he repeated the same thing you told him. But just like him, you remained quiet.
“Please take care of me,” you only whispered and Haechan’s eyes never got that dark, not even when he saw Mark.
He could have snapped his fingers and gotten rid of your clothes, but instead he took his time, slowly sliding his fingers underneath your soft sweater, feeling the warm skin of your stomach, fondling your body until getting it off completely, all while his tongue never stopped swirling with yours.
The circles he drew on your back going to unclasp your bra could have been some ancient language that only expressed love because you couldn’t have imagined that kind of touch to mean anything else.
And when the fabric of the clothes touched the ground and you were naked in his arms he finally let your lips go, breathing heavily against them, and slid his t-shirt off by the collar, piling the indument on top of yours. His chest against you made you whine and grab at his toned body.
He was hot at the touch and his scent made you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck to get more, while his quick but delicate hands reached the button of your jeans.
“Lift your hips for me, baby,” he murmured against the crown of your head and you did as he asked, supporting yourself on his shoulders.
He pulled at your bottoms, sliding them down your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours for a moment.
Your chest brushed against his nose and he reached down, peppering kisses all over your cleavage. You mewled when he let go to get rid of your jeans and you inhaled deeply, holding tight on the edge of the desk when he dropped on his knees to free your ankles off the fabric and started to gently kiss them. He came up your legs, accompanying his soft trails with his hands, feeling your body until reaching the softness of your thighs.
You imperceptibly tightened them and his eyes darted towards you. It was a silent command and you felt like covering your face with your hands as you opened wider for him.
“Good girl,” his breath was hot and the sound of his voice vibrated along your skin getting you goosebumps. Your body was flinching at every touch and the closer he got the faster your chest rose and fell, until you couldn’t take it anymore and just moaned his name, pushing your hips against his face. You heard him chuckle and he didn’t waste any time. The feeling of his tongue on your clothed clit made you gasp and you pushed his hair off his forehead.
“Can I mess up your hair?” you murmured.
“You can do whatever you want to me,” he replied, his husky voice travelling down your core and making your spine curve.
You got it now. Everything Haechan showed you from his memories was true. The heaviness of his feelings, the desire, the fear, the passion, it was all real.
You couldn’t imagine not being his lover. While you were there, spread for him and at his mercy, you couldn’t imagine not being on his side, not falling in love with him.
The little tug at your panties made you focus your thoughts back on him.
“Are you perhaps getting bored, gorgeous?” he clicked his tongue.
You felt like laughing and shaking your head.
“I’m just thinking-” you started but the way your panties were slowly descending down your thighs and knees while Haechan wasn’t touching them made you interrupt yourself.
“Yeah?” he kissed the inner thigh and you shivered, the thought of him seeing every centimetre of you from his position making you unable to focus anymore.
“I was thinking that I am sure of it,” you repeated.
Haechan’s soft and plump lips made their way further between your legs and you closed your eyes for a moment all breathy.
“Sure of what, darling?”
“That you’re my lover and I am definitely not here to kill you,” you explained with a certain difficulty.
Haechan stopped right above your sweet spot and you had to bite your lower lip, the anticipation making you lose your mind.
“A little kiss made you sure of it?” his eyes were dark but amused.
He looked breathtaking.
“You know it’s not just because of a little kiss.”
Haechan’s breath was hot and tingly on your sensitivity. “I know,” he replied and didn’t give you any time to adjust as he gave you a slow and deep lick on your clit making you gasp loudly.
He hummed pleased at the reaction and he repeated it, again and again until he was satisfied with the sounds you were making. Then he went lower, dipping his tongue inside of you, making you grab at his hair.
“Oh my God,” you whimpered and you heard the buzz of his laugh at your word choice.
Your thighs got closer as he increased the speed and you noticed the red tint of his ears pressed against your skin.
It made your chest bloom with affection and it just increased the shivers on your spine as he kitty licked and sucked on you, the hums against you sounding more and more hungry.
His hands felt wide on your ass as he pulled you even closer to his mouth and you had to support yourself on his shoulders.
“Please,” you started to chant at the way he flicked his tongue.
His jaw flinched and the moment he directed his gaze on you, two deep cuts under his messy hair, your whole body trembled in his arms.
He lifted his hands and you intertwined your fingers with his as with a last suck you came against his tongue. His name was on your lips like a mantra, laced with swears that to Haechan’s ears sounded like the most divine compliments. His warm mouth was still on you when your breath started to slow down and the little licks he’d give your pulsating pussy made your whole body jolt in spasms.
“Enough, please,” you mewled at the overstimulation and Haechan listened, peppering kisses on your stomach instead, going up to gently bite the underside of your breasts, sucking on the spot, before giving your hard nipples a cheeky lick.
You hummed, brain still mush from the high, but body already reacting to Haechan’s touch. He didn’t stop this time, letting you feel his wet and hot tongue, sucking on one bud then another, diligently.
Your legs wrapped around his waist and you let him slowly push you on the desk until your back was resting on top of the Tarot spread. With the corner of your eyes you saw the Devil card and you wondered if it was alright for you to get fucked on it.
As if reading your mind Haechan murmured against your neck. “As much as I’d love to take you on this same desk you need to be loved properly on my bed instead.”
His voice was so husky and deep that you felt yourself getting wet again and the way the stubble on his chin felt rubbing against your throat just stirred you even more.
“I am not against you taking me on this desk,” you slid your palms on his face and brought it to yours, kissing him slowly.
“That’s going to be for the next time, when I can bend you over it,” he replied against your lips and before you could realize it, your back hit a mattress instead and Haechan’s weight on top of you felt overwhelmingly good. His scent was all around you, his pillows, his room, the sheets you had to grab onto as you felt his delicate fingers dipping inside of you.
The wet sound felt even dirtier in the dim lights of his bedroom, the deep silence interrupted only by the slow pumping and his mouth on your chest.
His name came back on your lips and you found yourself spread even more for him to reach deeper inside of you. Like a switch, he found your sweetest spot and your body seized up, curling your toes in the air.
“There it is. I didn’t forget it,” his amused whisper lingered on your lips, mixed with his moaned name. He curled his fingers so deliciously, hitting the same spot repeatedly as fast as your quick breath.
“I am going to cum, I am going to-” your quickening voice announces and Haechan hummed deeply.
“Yeah? Cum for me again, baby, let go.”
“Fuck,” you dug your nails into his body and the last thing you saw was his veiny forearm stilling between your legs as you pushed your head into the pillows.
“Good good girl,” Haechan’s voice brought you back from the radio silence your brain threw you in. “You need to relax a bit so I can get my hand back,” he added with a light chuckle and you realized his fingers were still buried deep inside of you as you clenched around them.
You tried to catch your breath and focus your gaze on him. Not once in your life you’ve felt that inebriated.
And when you felt his wet fingers on your lips you just opened your mouth and sucked on them slowly with a hum, letting your tongue on the underside of them.
Haechan inhaled. “I know you’re so fucking dirty. I just want to discover it little by little,” he leaned against your ear, sliding his fingers off your mouth. You let them go with a plop and gulped as he dragged that wet hand on his lower stomach, putting a little show for you as he reached his cock and lazily stroked it. He groaned softly and the small fuck that escaped your mouth at the view made him lean back down, resting his wide hand near your pillow and making you watch the way he aligned himself to your needy pussy and softly pushed inside.
You pressed your face against his forearm at the sensation, grabbing at his bicep and he exhaled.
“God,” he murmured, “you’re perfect.”
You whined again, feeling stretched and full and he searched for your eyes after stopping moving. “Are you okay?”
He rubbed your face with one hand and kissed your cheek, then your temple. You let out a faint yes and wrapped his neck with your arms, pulling him into a deep kiss. You felt him growing inside of you a bit more and the thought of feeling him all made you clench.
“You can move,” you whispered against his lips and he gave you another small kiss before gently pushing his hips forward. The first thrust was smooth and it made you open your mouth to breathe better, the second made you curl your toes and the third, deeper, made you roll your eyes back.
“Demon or not you’re going to make me nut so fucking quickly,” Haechan’s voice was breathy.
“You can cum wherever you want to,” you entangled your fingers in his hair. The man rubbed his face in the crook of your neck.
“You can’t say stuff like that to me or I’ll break you,” he replied and as a demonstration his hips snapped and you gasped at the way he managed to bottom out.
“Does it hurt?” he murmured and you shook your head unable to speak. “Does it feel good?” he tried with a little smirk and you nodded, wrapping your legs tightly around his hips.
“Fuck, baby,” Haechan thrust once, then twice, until the wet sound got drowned by the skin-slapping sound of his hips against your ass.
Haechan’s bed started to creak and he pushed one hand on the headboard above your head, giving you a better view of his body moving inside of you.
“Shit shit shit,” you grabbed at the sheets, pulling and twirling. Haechan grabbed them and held them on each side of your head, intertwining his fingers with you to let you squeeze as hard as you wanted to. His mouth was so close to yours but you were both unable to kiss. You’ve never thought of how hot a whining man could sound and the thought of you being responsible for those sounds made your head even dizzier.
“I want you to cum inside of me, please,” you begged and Haechan moaned harshly against your neck.
“Ah shit I can’t-” he choked on his breath and rose to his knees, pulling out frantically and releasing on your stomach.
The view knocked the breath out of your lungs. His messy hair partially hiding his lustful eyes, his chest, his veiny hand still stroking his cock, his plump abused lips still letting small groans escape.
His cum was hot on your skin and you desperately wanted it inside of you.
“Give me a second if you don’t want my child,” he exhaled, a lingering amusement on his now relaxed expression.
“What are you trying to do?” you asked, the thought stirring something in you.
“Contraception,” he lifted one eyebrow.
“And if I want the child?” you smiled.
“Don’t mess with me,” he leaned down, giving you a quick peck. Whatever demonic magic he did was done already because he didn’t miss any more time. His cock felt heavy on your lower stomach, and when he started to rub it between your folds, his tip pushing against your clit, your arms flew back around his neck. The slick made him slide back in so easily that you could just gasp.
“Hmm, yeah, you’re taking me so well.”
The praise went to your fucked up head and you could just throw your head back and moan his name again.
The pace was so fast and his thrust so deep that you could feel him inside your gut. Haechan messily kissed your lips and face, murmuring low shhs and nothingness in your ears, laced with curses with his husky needy voice.
His body was hot, caging you underneath him and you felt so full and so safe, you felt loved and desired.
The emotion that bloomed in your chest imitated the feeling nesting in your stomach, about to burst.
You wanted to tell him many things but you couldn’t find any good words, so you just pulled him tightly and brushed your lips together, chanting his name.
“Cum for me again, baby,” he grunted and you spasmed in his arms as he pushed you into the mattress again and again until your shaky moans and eyes rolled back in your head making him still inside of you, feeling you rhythmically pulsating around him.
The sounds he made as he released inside of you were the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard in your life.
You jolted in your sleep, feeling around you and finding the bed empty but warm.
“I’m still here,” Haechan murmured, his shadow getting closer. The bed dipped as he laid down and you inhaled his scent as he slid under the covers to pull you to his chest.
“I thought-” you started but then stopped, the image of Haechan screaming on the ground after your touch still haunting you.
“I didn’t go anywhere. I am fine,” he added. His arms felt strong around your shoulders and his gentle hands slowly rubbing your head and back were lulling you back to sleep.
“Jeno said it’s possible that the curse lifted after we touched the first time. Single usage.”
You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest. You couldn’t clearly see his features but his eyes were shining in the dark.
“You’re saying that we could have touched all of this time and we just didn’t?”
Haechan’s soft chuckle warmed your face. “Mark humour I guess.”
You rested your head back on him, listening to his calming heartbeat.
“Are the guys back?”
Haechan hummed. “It’s Christmas. Selene will arrive soon. I expect Doyoung to come by in the night of the New Year.”
You nuzzled your head further into him and Haechan turned to the side, resting his face on top of your head. The little peck he left warmed you all up.
“I want to come with you wherever you go,” you whispered.
Haechan didn’t comment.
“Promise me,” you tried to lift your head to see his eyes again but a sudden light invaded your irises.
You wanted to scream and ask what was going on, but Haechan was on his feet already with you behind his back. You put your hands on his back to balance yourself.
“Oh fuck,” he exhaled and turned around. “Hold onto me tight! Never let go!” was the last thing you heard him say as the floor opened and swallowed you both.
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HITS DIFFERENT | L.DH
TITLE: hits different
PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader | mc’s best friend johnny, haechan’s roommate mark (+ kinda emotional support boy when mc acts like a loser)
GENRE: non-idol au, strangers to friends with benefits to lovers, getting together, smut, angst, fluff | requested | bonus part
SUMMARY: nobody ever got under your skin, not until Haechan came in your life and changed everything.
WARNINGS: smut, protected and unprotected sex (condom first and then mc is on the pill), multiple sex scenes, oral sex, fingering, car sex, riding, fingers sucking, face sitting, rimming, anal, mirror sex, a bit of exhibitionism (as a fantasy), praise, teasing (as in degradation but it’s not hard stuff), handjob, morning sex, kitchen sex, toys (vibrator), overstimulation, (no bdsm but) switchy dynamics, sa doesn’t happen but there are a few references to pushy behaviours, mentions of a past car accident and death of a barely mentioned character | I hope I didn’t forget anything but if I did, let me know! | kinda implied that both haechan and the reader are bi because in this house we only support mxf bi4bi couples (joking… unless) do whatever you want with this information.
WC: 44.804k
TAGLIST: @adorejaehyn @matchahyuck @sundhaelatte @jjhmk @ourbeautifulaffair @what-the-jams @oleoleniall @kundann @bbagu @ismileeprnc-responder @produmads @zkdlllin @yesohhsehun @aliceinwhateverland @strangevante @cas104 @hyuckdreams
A/N: finally writing hyuck as a loser male wife (kinda) my life is complete!!! It’s been months and I’m back with a request, I know it took long to write it but I hope whoever requested will like this. I’m still not sure about the present tense but idk I’m trying out new things. I would really appreciate if you could support my work in any way, feedback makes me happy and motivates me to keep writing. If you can, reblog so it can reach more people or come and chat in the ask box to let me know your opinion! Love you, enjoy!
It was Johnny’s fault. It’s always his fault when things don’t go as planned.
It’s his fault if right now you are jumping around Haechan’s bedroom trying to look for your clothes while the clock is running fast, and you are running late.
It was Johnny’s fault for setting you up with Haechan out of all his friends.
“Can you please help instead of just staring while I slowly transcend into madness?”
Haechan rolls his eyes, still laying in bed, crumpled-up sheets all over his body. “Damn, all of this for a pair of panties?”
“For all my clothes. What the hell did we do last night?” You groan, throwing your head back while another exhausted sigh slips from your lips.
“Don’t know,” he shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face while a small smirk curls his lips, “fucked you so hard you forgot?”
“Shut up!”
Haechan sighs another time, eyes rolling in the back of his skull before he stands up and actually starts helping you find your things. You hear him giggle at your muttered curses under your breath but at least he’s helping, studying the room to put your outfit back together.
But when you finally are done, he doesn’t shut up, he’s not half asleep like he usually is when you sneak out of his place on your tiptoes like a thief.
“You know, I don’t even get it,” he says, crossing his arms, eyes fixated on you even if you can only see him with your peripherical view, too occupied putting your panties back on.
“What?”
“Why you’re always in a rush. I think this is the first time I wake up with you. I don’t bite, you know,” you can hear the sarcasm in his voice and this early in the morning, with those implications, you find it slightly irritating.
You scoff, “I wouldn’t say that.”
“It happened once,” he exhales loudly, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “they looked extra soft.” That’s always his justification when you bring up the one time he bit you during sex, his eyes falling on your chest before you swiftly cover it with your arm.
“Okay, enough. You are a sleepy head and I have things to do, that’s why.”
Yeah, that’s why. It’s got nothing to do with the fact you created a list of rules to follow when you two started this and you would’ve rather got hit by lighting than broken one of those. He doesn’t know it, though. So, your different personalities and lifestyles make up a good excuse.
“Whatever,” he replies, believing in you, slightly disappointed over the fact you implied he’s lazy and sleeps too much. “We could eat break—”
“No!” You scream. “Fuck,” you shout again when in the rush of reacting to his absurd proposal you almost zip your panties — or better the skin of your mound — in the zip of your jeans. “I just told you I’m late.”
Haechan doesn’t get you. He thinks he never will. And you can see it in his eyes and the way he’s looking at you. It makes no sense for you to sweat while you’re dressing up again. He also thinks he knows so little of you and has no faint idea of what you could be late for. But he doesn’t ask. He might not have rules written, but somehow that feels like crossing some of those lines that are in between you like invisible strings.
“My purse, my purse, where the hell is my purse?”
He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes at your panicked eyes that are looking around the room, before he responds nonchalantly, “Couch, probably. You always throw it there.”
You quirk a brow. Always? Are you picking up habits? You scroll that out of your mind and run a hand through your hair — the flat press that now looks like a mess — before walking past him. It’s so irritating to have him there while you have to escape.
“Why are you following me?” You ask exhausted, turning around to meet him standing right behind you; you’re face to face, and considering he spent half of the night inside you, you shouldn’t find it so weird to have him so close, but it is, so you take a step back.
“’Cause this is my house?”
You huff, “yeah, of course.” Your purse is on the couch where you always throw it, and you’re quick to grab it before heading to the door.
“Are you sure you don’t —”
“No, gotta go. Bye. See ya,” you stop him, waving a last goodbye with a barely visible movement of the hand.
The door closes behind you and you finally start breathing normally again.
This is all Johnny’s fault.
It was Johnny’s fault.
If only he didn’t drag you out that night with the lame excuse that you needed to unwind and meet new people.
It wasn’t totally wrong. Let’s say you aren’t the best at making decisions, especially romantically, and you were still caught up with your ex... or whatever he was. You two weren’t together anymore, technically. Practically? Well…
But you didn’t want to start a new thing, your ex was traumatic, no matter how good the sex was (it wasn’t even that good, currently he’s the only one you can get sex from without having to hold boring conversations with a drink in hand and spend the ride back to their place hoping you didn’t end up in the arms of a killer) he was an asshole.
“Can you please don’t run, I can’t keep up with you,” you scream, trying to reach your best friend, Johnny, hurrying in your steps, praying you won’t break your ankles.
“You still insist to wear those heels when you can’t walk in them,” he jokes, laughing at you, watching you huff and bend over to catch your breath.
“It’s not them, it’s you for being so tall, why do you take such big steps?”
Johnny only rolls his eyes before pointing at the bar door with his head, “Should we head in? Need me to carry you or your small legs can drag you inside?”
You frown, glaring at him, “I hate you.”
Johnny smiles, handing out his arm so you can intertwine it with yours and then you step in.
The inside of the bar is cosy, the brown of the wood and the shelves make it warmer, and the music playing in the background is a nice company sound that won’t overshadow the talks. You don’t have time to look around much more, Johnny’s hand swiftly wraps around your wrist, and then he starts dragging you somewhere, and you can only activate your brain again to focus on him if you don’t want to fall in the middle of the place like a bag of potato.
“Dude, you finally made it, you’re late.” A boy you don’t know exclaims from the table and your eyes follow the line of five heads sitting next to him.
“Sorry, it was her fault,” Johnny says. Lies, cause you were on time, he picked you up late, making you wait ten minutes under your complex’s porch.
You are about to complain but suddenly all the eyes are on you, and you are too conscious about it to do anything else other than stare back at them with an awkward shy smile and a small wave of your hand.
“He picked me up late,” you still manage to babble out cause there’s no way that will be the first impression of you. You surely have some flaws — many flaws, Johnny would say — but being late it’s not one of them.
“Yeah, we know,” another one replies, glaring at your friend.
“Haechan,” Johnny replies with a scowl to him, and you try to note to yourself that’s his name. “Move, we need to sit, too.”
You wouldn’t have minded sitting at the far end of the bench, not even if you were at risk of falling down every two seconds. It would’ve been better than being squeezed between Johnny and Haechan. But even if the position is not the best, once again because Johnny takes too much space, after more than an hour you got along with all of his friends, you learned that most of them were dating, or busy with something, so you couldn’t quite get why Johnny brought you there. The fear that it was his way to confess to you and screw up twenty years of friendship got your skin crawling for a second, but when you were left alone with the black-haired man to your right, it all made sense.
“So, how do you know Johnny?” You ask, turning around to look at him while a small smile curls your lips.
Haechan smiles, or smirks, it’s almost a chuckle, you can’t quite describe it. “At the gym.”
“At the gym?”
He rolls his eyes, swiftly licking his lips, and lifting his hands up in defence, “I tried, okay? It’s just not for me.”
“Oh, no, sorry if it came off rudely,” you apologise. “You didn’t seem interested when they talked about it before so…”
“Cause I’m not,” he laughs wholeheartedly, and his face softens, making you take a breath of relief, well, good, you didn’t fuck it up for once. “We got close soon and then we started knowing each other out of that hell.”
You laugh at the way he talks about the gym, not that you disagreed, Johnny tried more than once to drag you there but you’re loyal to your Saturday and Sunday morning runs outside or on your treadmill.
His eyes fall on yours again, and he briefly studies your features before speaking again, “What about you?”
“Oh, he was actually my brother’s best friend, then they fought, and we became inseparable. My brother is still mad but that’s not my fault.”
Haechan laughs even though a frown hardens his features for a second, something about your tone seemed off for a split moment, but he shrugs it off and tries to joke about it, “Usually that ends with dating.”
Your eyes widen and your head moves from side to side. “Oh, hell no.”
“Johnny’s a dream for a lot of people.”
“Yeah, we’re fine as friends,” you confirm again, the mere idea of seeing Johnny as something else making your stomach convulse. You are sure he’s a perfect boyfriend, husband even, to somebody else.
“Oh, already taken?”
“No, we’re friends, he’s my soulmate in another way. And I don’t do love.”
Haechan stares at you, his eyes moving on your face, the small nervous twitching of the corner of your lips, and the frenetic playing of your fingers with the crumbs on the table. “No?”
“It’s just not for me. Not in a…” you stop, trying to find the words. You don’t have a reason, you just never fell deeply for someone. You surely care for people, and you love your friends, but your relationships never left a deep mark on you. You’re fine with yourself. “I’m good on my own.”
“Bad experiences?” He tries to guess, thinking he’s going to hit the target.
You shake your head, sipping on the glass of alcohol and emptying it. “No, I’ve always been like this. I think nobody made a mess of me to leave me hooked on them.”
He chuckles, and something crosses his face but you don’t catch it, it looks like the smirk of before with a glint in his eyes, but it’s too quick, and you don’t know him at all to read his micro-expressions that well.
“You?” You ask, feeling a push of curiosity that makes you want to learn more about him. His lips move, but you have no time to carry on the conversation since the others arrived.
Back then you didn’t know where that night would’ve led you. You had no idea that the person that would’ve made a mess of you was right there by your side. But of one thing you can be sure, it was Johnny’s fault.
You’re sure that night nothing clicked between you and Haechan; whatever Johnny had in mind, didn’t happen. You two didn’t even exchange numbers, you can’t even remember if you said a proper goodbye to him when you stumbled out of that restaurant hanging from your best friend’s arm.
Whatever led you here started a few weeks after, probably even a month later, when Haechan had already slipped out of your mind, long forgotten, categorized with those people that if you saw somewhere you were sure you already knew, but couldn’t remember when, why, and how.
But with him, that didn’t happen. When your eyes met again you felt something. He looked different, probably it was the black hair framing his face perfectly, some make-up on his face too, or the leather jacket he was wearing and the chains around his neck. You remembered him, clear as the sky. But he was even hotter, attracting you without saying a word, not that you would’ve heard. You were at a club, and he was leaning against the bar on the other side of you. But his eyes were speaking louder than words, and your feet followed an invisible path that got you right there, on the stool next to him.
“Look who’s alive,” Haechan jokes, looking at you up and down, eyes lingering for a bit longer on your exposed thighs, the pink skirt you’re wearing giving him a good view of your skin.
You chuckle, “why would I be dead?”
He shrugs, before calling the bartender and ordering you a drink. “Don’t know, you disappeared,” he whispers, looking at you.
“I didn’t know we wanted to keep contact,” you say, meeting his gaze and drifting away immediately, it’s a subtle movement, enough to make it seem like the stocked bottles of different types of liquor are more interesting than him. You never react like that, there’s something different in the air tonight and you’re not sure you want to get drunk on that feeling.
“You’re right,” he whispers, and your legs brush for an instant as he sits better on the stool. “I find you interesting, so I was looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Really? After a five-minute talk, I already have that effect on you?” You tease, staring into his brown eyes while you sip on the drink that arrived.
“You talked all night, to be honest. You seem fun to be with,” he defends himself, but you see in the way he acts that he’s confident, your teasing didn’t make him uncomfortable or anything, and you don’t know where your bickering-flirting method is going to take you. “You’re friends with Jonny, after all.”
You shake your head, placing the glass down, and then fix your skirt. “So following your logic you should be charming and attractive too?”
He lifts a hand to stop you, “Never called you charming or attractive, do you think that of me, honey? Want me to think you are?”
You’re stunned and a bit taken aback because you weren’t expecting that answer, and you don’t even expect your body to light on fire. It’s not really about the words, it’s the way he gets you, like nobody ever did before, like you want him to get you, to keep up with you. And it’s also in the way his body talks, it’s addictive, it is charming, the small fidgeting of the fingers, the bounce of his legs while his legs are a bit spread open and his thighs are perfectly wrapped by those jeans that make you want to do unholy things, and his eyes, that taunting, witty light and the grin on his face.
You shake your head when you realize that you still didn’t come up with an answer, too lost in his details to think about a comeback, and you’d like to die when his melodious laugh resonates from his chest.
“Should we order another one to ease the tension?” He doesn’t give you time to fall down into the deep end of your regrets and embarrassment, he’s smiling at you tenderly, and you smile back.
There’s something different in the air, and you’re sure about it, just like you feel more and more like you shouldn’t get drunk on that feeling.
But you don’t have a choice when the night drags longer and you’re no longer sitting at the bar but you’re dancing in a corner of the club with his hands all over you. You don’t know how you got there, words turned into teasing, teasing turned into something bigger you didn’t know how to deal with (he is good with words), and to bear with them you thought dancing would’ve drawn his quirky remarks out, but Haechan was also good with his body, and once he had you wrapped around him, you didn’t know how to stop.
You had lost sight of Johnny, but you couldn’t care about him. Technically you had to go home with him, but you weren’t sure you wanted to.
“Fuck, girl,” he whispers, “you’re good at this.”
You roll your eyes, but a laugh rolls out from your chest. “Don’t call me girl, it sounds so condescending and you sound like a creep.”
“Sorry, prefer other pet names, or is your name fine?”
“My name is fine.” Your name should’ve been a neutral thing to keep him away from your heart, at least — even if he actually isn’t, he is already deep inside your panties by now. But unfortunately, even the way your name rolls out of his lips makes your heart lose a beat. But you blame it on the night, on the alcohol, and on the fact he’s teasing you, whispering it right next to your ear as if he’s casting a spell on you.
You need to breathe some fresh air because Haechan is becoming too much. He was already all over you and you aren’t used to this.
When you open the door of the bar and lean against the wall, the cold of the night envelops you before his warmth washes over you again.
He doesn’t talk, though. Even if your eyes are closed you can feel he is staring at your face, fearfully at your lips while they puff out white clouds of air.
“Should we take this home?” Those words seem so loud in the quiet of the night, just a few cars passing by and some people stumbling out of the club.
You don’t reply, your head turns around to stare at him; he’s serious, partially drunk, but serious. And you are in desperate need of a good fuck. Well, you hope it will be a good one, or probably no, maybe you wish it will be terrible so you can rant about it with Johnny and he will make sure you and Haechan never cross paths again. But right now, you’re not thinking with your brain, and you want him, hoping it will be good, and who knows, maybe you can find your perfect distraction.
“Your place?” You ask straightforwardly, meeting his eyes.
“Oh, Mark’s at home,” he says, “my roommate.”
You sigh, you can’t take him home either. “Well,” you say, rubbing your neck and looking away, “maybe next time, then.”
“Wait,” he stops you by a hand, “have you ever done it in a car?”
No, you haven’t, and soon you also find out why you’ve never done it.
“Will you please stop cursing?” Haechan rasps, pulling your panties down, trying to block your leg from kicking him in the face.
“I don’t think this is the best place we could — fuck,” the words die in your mouth when, after rolling his eyes and gutturally groaning to shut up, his lips close around your pussy. It’s a harsh suck on your clit that gets you silent, head rolling back on the backseat. You think that he might be uncomfortable kneeling between your legs, halfway down and halfway up in the space between the front and back seats, but you honestly don’t care, that’s his problem for choosing this out of all the places, not that you had a better alternative, at least the car is clean, unlike the club bathroom.
It’s not the first impression people would go crazy to have about themselves, but fuck, Haechan’s good at this. It’s like he has a mission, and probably that’s to make you come in the shortest possible time.
“Why are you so loud?” You ask. It’s not a complaint, you like hearing him moan against your skin, and as embarrassing as they should be, you enjoy the slurp sounds he’s making while his mouth keeps working wonders on you. But your pleasure-haltered voice doesn’t come out how it sounds in your brain and Haechan growls in annoyance.
“Why are you still talking?” He scolds, pulling away from you, and the sight of his face covered in your wetness makes your stomach twist and your hips buck searching for more. You need him back right where he was, immediately. “Good, these are the only reactions I want from you,” he comments mockingly with a snotty grin on his face before he leans down and resumes where he stopped.
This time no more words but curses and moans come out of your mouth. Your head falls back slack, and your fingers graze the backseats of his car, trying to hold onto something as the knot in your stomach tightens more with every lick on your sensitive core.
“Taste so good,” he hums against you, his hands push your legs up for what he can, and his fingers dip into your soft skin, gripping strongly to keep you in place. The cold of the rings adorning his digits makes you shiver and you’d do anything to have them inside you, but it feels so good that you can’t even beg for that, too focused on what he’s already doing with his lips and tongue.
“Haechan,” you whisper when he quickens his movements and parts your lips more, starting to also tease your entrance with his tongue and making you feel more exposed. You should be more bothered about the cars — and people — passing next to you in the parking spot, but given by your whimpers and moans, it’s clear you don’t care. Truthfully, it’s like you have completely forgotten where you are, not even the painful reminder of the safety belt’s buckle pressing right against your ribcage seems to remind you that you’re in public and anyone could hear — and for now see too, since the windowpanes aren’t fogged by the heat of your bodies yet.
“Mhh, mhh,” he sings in response, opening his eyes to meet yours, looking at you with so much intensity you feel your knees tremble and your thighs close around his head. “No, no, no, babe, let me do my job.”
You groan; the teasing, almost condescending, tone of his voice fuels a fire in you, and the orgasm chokes you up. You curse when your climax breaks through your body and leaves you gasping for air while Haechan continues pleasuring you through your high. His hands cup your ass, kneading it, while his tongue plays with your extra sensitive pussy for some more before he pulls away and stares at the mess between your legs with a proud, playful smirk curling his reddened and puffy lips.
“So, was it worth it for you, spoiled princess?”
You scoff, brushing your hair back and some sweat off your forehead, while you try to close your legs because suddenly you feel too exposed to him. “You can’t deny the car is a shitty place.”
He laughs and then shakes his head. “So shitty you can’t take some more for me?” He tilts his head, raising his brows while he briefly looks down where his hands are patiently waiting for your good to go and get out of his pants.
“If you’re also so good with your dick I think I can take being cramped up in a sardine can some more,” you joke, struggling to sit up because your legs feel like jelly and you can’t believe he made you feel that good with his tongue only. Your first time together? And it looked like he genuinely loved giving oral? Was all this luck a sign of something tragic imminent?
You scroll your thoughts out of your mind when you feel the sound of the belt unbuckling and his jeans hitting the floor of the car.
“Fucking worst idea ever,” he curses as he realizes that he can’t fuck you with the denim mid-thigh.
“I told you,” you retort, and you’d be entertained to watch him curse and struggle some more, pondering if he should just get rid of his shoes too and be naked while anyone could knock on your window and signal you to the police, but you want him too badly and you can’t wait any longer, so you propose a thing, “Sit here, I’ll ride.”
His eyes light up and you can see the weight being lifted off his chest as he nods and promptly sits in the middle seat. You stare in silence as he pushes the boxers down his legs too before grabbing a condom and rolling it down his length. You could cry because also his dick looks perfect for now, and you don’t go around saying it often, but it’s literally the perfect size, it won’t hurt you and yet it will fill you amazingly, you just know.
“Enchanted?” He tsk with a bragging tone, winking while he runs his fingers through his hair.
Your eyes roll in the back of your head, but your pussy clenching is your honest reaction, he’s too hot and uses it to his advantage a bit too often, he can’t keep getting away with it. So, you go on with your lie, trying to appear unfazed, you shake your head and climb on top of him, luckily you decided to go for the mini skirt and not the long pants tonight, so you don’t have access problems. You move your hand to grab the base and lift your hips, only when you feel his tip prod at your entrance you start sinking.
“Oh, shit,” you moan and your head rolls back when you bottom down completely. You don’t move right away, letting yourself get used to his — in fact — perfect girth and length, feeling his hands wrap around your waist to keep you from falling clumsily.
Haechan lets out a shaky moan too, and his eyes are closed still when you lift your head and focus on his face, but they snap open when you start moving on him.
“Fuck, eager?” He groans, biting his lips to don’t be too loud, not that it would do anything when you’re moving so fast on him, your ass smacking hard against his thighs, the sounds filling the vehicle.
“Wanted to fuck you since I saw you standing at the bar,” you confess nonchalantly, and he thinks you can’t be real, but he has no time to dwell on you and the way you are because you’re taking his breath away. He can’t even lie, he wanted you too since the same moment, if not since the very first night, so having you here feels a bit unreal.
“You’re so hot,” he whispers, eyes moving on your body, watching your boobs bounce with every thrust through the skimpy top, and your thighs, fuck your thighs, he wants to squeeze them and hold them, and so he does, moving his hands there and massaging the flesh, eliciting more moans from your parted lips.
Your hands clench on his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out a groan but it surprises you when you realize it’s a moan of pleasure and not pain. Your lips twitch in a smirk before your tongue runs on them. “Like the pain?”
He glares at you, moving his left hand on your ass, slapping it harshly, smirking in victory when a choked moan falls from your lips and your cunt clenches around him. “You too, it seems,” he winks.
“Fucker,” you slur out, narrowing your brows, and picking up a different rhythm, grinding your hips on him with force to distract him from your right hand creeping on his neck until it reaches his hair and pulls at it with a tug.
“Shit,” he moans, thighs flexing under you at the unexpected wave of pleasure he feels rushing through his bones. “I hate you.”
You don’t reply, you don’t need to, it’s clear he doesn’t, and he’s loving it. So, you give him more, leaning in to leave small bites on his neck and collarbones. You don’t let your teeth sink in his golden sink much, your goal is not to leave ugly blooms of purple and red for everyone to see, you want to feel the shivers on his skin and the hisses hitting your earlobe every time you graze his sensitive skin.
You pull back with a cuss when another smack lands on your other asscheek, and Haechan chuckles darkly at your surprised face.
“What, babe? It’s the art of giving and receiving,” he says, trying to sound cocky but his breaths are short and he’s clearly fighting himself back to let out all the moans you’re eliciting from him.
You groan, and you almost lean in to kiss him, you don’t think it through, your body moves on its own but right when your lips are about to crash you stop, seeing eye to eye. “I hope you’re having fun, then,” you retort, but your voice is shaky — he blames it on the sex — and your heart is almost pumping out of your ribcage, but he doesn’t notice, he doesn’t even notice your trembling hand as you try to fight off the anxiety that being so close to him, to his lips, to his eyes, gives you.
“So much fun,” he snorts, pulling you closer to him by the waist and you have to pull back swiftly, gasping for air. The car feels suffocating, and when you turn around for a split second you can’t see what’s outside, glasses steamed up.
“Worried about people that could see us?” He teases you, bringing your attention back on him with his thumb on your clit, smirking proudly when your eyes widen and your thighs tremble, and you have no idea how you’re — not only supporting your body up — but still fucking him.
“Worried about going home with a corpse in the car,” you mutter when he starts moving his finger on your clit, and presses his hand on the small of your back, and you can almost feel the metal meld in your skin for how hot your body is.
“Want to kill me? After the best fuck of your life?” He pouts, starting to move up into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.
“You wish,” you spit out, but oh god if he’s right.
“Then I guess you’re not gonna come.” He forces you still down on him, the strong grip on your waist almost painful.
“What?” Your eyes snap open, and your hands have to hold onto his shoulder because your legs can’t hold you up by themselves anymore.
“Changed your mind? It’s good?”
You groan, throwing your head back when he resumes the strokes. “It is good, I just want to slap you for no reason.” Because you are too good, and I might already be addicted and I don’t like how this sounds.
Haechan grins, loving the way you look like a mess in his arms but still talk back and do anything to pretend that it’s not that good. He’s getting off to that, your blissed face, your low, needy moans, your trembling thighs, and your dripping wet pussy making a mess around him. He’s getting off to you, and your stubbornness that makes all your weaknesses so fucking attractive.
“Haechan,” you slur out, letting your head fall on his shoulder while your whole body tenses up. You don’t warn him, the orgasm runs through you before you can even process it, and Haechan doesn’t need words anyway because your cunt clenching around him and your nails digging into his back again trigger his own release too. Your moans blend together and bounce around the car while your hips move in messy thrusts for a while more before coming to a stop, slowly letting the quiet of the night around you slip into the car and remind you two what you had just done.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, forcing your torso up, and gulping while you look around and hope you weren’t too lost in the pleasure and didn’t hear police sirens or something.
“Don’t worry, nobody ever walks around here,” Haechan chuckles, watching the expression on your face change into confusion, leaving the fear behind. “Why do you think I always park here if it’s free?”
“Oh,” you whisper. “So, you bring a lot of people here. Nice to know,” your comment is sarcastic but you can’t deny the small veil of pettiness and jealousy behind it.
“Honestly?” He says, shutting down a moan of disappointment when your body leaves his, and you try to look for your purse to find tissues to clean yourself. “I never brought anybody here, not for sex at least.”
You shouldn’t be relieved, but you are, and you shouldn’t. So you shrug it off and turn around after you pushed the dirty tissue into the empty envelope that used to contain it before. “And for what then?”
“Occasional smoking weed sessions,” he confesses. “When one of my older friends used to drive me and my roommate here, and we escaped those nights with some other friends. I’m not saying nobody ever passes by, but trust me, they don’t care ‘cause they probably will do the same.”
You hum before staring at the door handle as if it will open on its own.
“Want me to drop you home? It got late,” Haechan asks now that he’s finally put together again and looks at least decent, the flush on his face is still there and his hair is a mess, but he’s covered.
You shake your head and bite your thumb before your hand lays on the handle. “No, Johnny will drop me home.”
“Okay, great. Are you alright?”
You laugh and look at him with a grin on your face. “Playing boyfriend after you fucked me next to a wood?”
“Oh, shut up!” He yells, pushing you out, and then following you. “Just wanted to check.”
“Well, I can walk on my knees, so I guess I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Mr perfect dick.”
Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes and walking to the other side, opening the driver’s door and getting halfway in. “Fuck you, Miss I’m not fucking in a car.”
“Goodnight to you, too, Haechannie. It was lovely making a new acquaintance,” you joke, and you can’t hold back the smile when he starts the car and drives away all while holding his middle finger up for you to see after sending you a flying kiss.
When you turn around and hug yourself in your jacket to shield yourself from the cold, you curse at your first step.
You very much can’t walk without looking like you just learnt how to stand on your feet.
“Fuck you, Lee Haechan.”
The rules aren’t exactly written anywhere in your house, it would’ve been weird if someone ever entered and found your ‘10 things to don’t do with your fuckbuddy’, not that many people are allowed in your apartment. That is another of your thousands of unwritten rules, it’s not like you don’t have friends, you are pretty chatty with everyone and get to know people easily, but your house is your safe place, and only a few are allowed in. Haechan isn’t one of that. It isn’t because you aren’t close with each other, by now it had been six months since you started this and well, you got to know each other pretty deeply, but you are terrified that your rules aren’t his.
You know how to move when you go to his place, you have your ways to don’t turn this amazing sex into a catastrophe of broken hearts and shed tears; the rules are simple and clear in your mind.
Rule number 1: never sleep over.
Sleeping in the same bed is romantic. Even when there are no feelings involved, even when no ‘I love yous’ can slur out of someone’s mouth.
Sleeping in the same bed is dangerous.
You can appear a bit cold and distant, but unfortunately, you aren’t. And as much you tell yourself to don’t catch feelings, you may never know what happens when you fall asleep side by side and two arms start keeping you warm. Sure, you could sleep in the same bed and still stay away from each other, but what if… yeah, you don’t even like to think about the possibility of things that aren’t in your plans to happen.
Better safe than sorry.
But that rule doesn’t last long. Haechan is a little too good and you always finish a little too late, so most of the time either your legs don’t allow you to stand on your feet (let alone drive back home), or it is too late and there are no more buses.
So, rule number 1 became what used to be rule number 2: if you by mistake sleep over, leave before he wakes up.
This one is pretty easy to follow. Haechan is more gone than you in the morning and as soon as you hear the first ring of your alarm you are on your feet, ready to go on with your routine. Washing your face, fixing your hair, and finding your clothes so you could be out of there as soon as possible. You would’ve dealt with the other hygienic things back at home. You often thought about carrying a small bag with you with your toothbrush, a towel, and some other things, but that felt too domestic. Even if you had to bring it from home, the idea of brushing your teeth at his place, washing your hair, taking a shower, and walking around his house with only a bathrobe, made shivers run down your spine. Too romantic.
Rule number 3: never invite him over.
It’s not only for sex-related problems, it’s also because you don’t want him to get too deep into you. You had spent a lot of time to make this house your home, and you are sure that if you let him in after the doorstep, he would’ve got to know you, and you don’t want that to happen. You are close, but not too close, and you want to maintain the line clear.
Rule number 4: no kisses.
Strictly no kisses outside of the bed. Your initial rule included also kisses inside of the bedroom — or whatever surface he fucked you against — but after the first kiss he stole from you, well, screw another rule. It is also quite impossible when, for some reason, you two got so primal with each other. It isn’t a fucking session with him if you don’t spend at least five minutes making out while your hands roam each other’s bodies leaving marks behind. Embarrassing, you think every time those flashbacks assault your mind when you are out of the sex haze.
Rule number 5: keep it private.
This also was never spoken but it seemed like Haechan got it too. It isn’t to protect the relationship or some other bullshit, you simply can’t stand people’s opinions about you and your life. Also, what is the point of people knowing you two fucked? That’s too personal and invasive. You don’t want to deal with their comments or their misunderstanding of your and Haechan’s friendship. After all, you two are friends before anything else and you act like friends, but as soon as people know something more is going on, their first brilliant idea is to make up crazy theories of how you two look like such a hot couple and would be perfect together.
And then there are some more, random rules you make up along the way every time you feel he is crossing some lines or you are.
It might seem strange that there’s no rule implying not falling in love, right? Well, it’s not in your brain because you never even thought that could happen. You’re not even sure you ever loved the people you dated, how could you fall for your friend with benefits?
Unfortunately, it never crossed your mind that they are not Haechan.
You’re not sure when it all started. What you’re sure about is that you never planned for anything to start. The fuck in the car had been, unfortunately, really good, but you truly believed you could live without his dick. But maybe there was something else of him you couldn’t live without, and you had no idea about it yet.
“So, uhm, you know Haechan, right?” Johnny mutters in a low voice while you two are walking back home after you convinced him to go out for a run with you instead of going to the gym.
You sip from your cup of coffee and stare at him with a question mark painted all over your face, is he dumb? “Mhh, yeah, you got us in touch?”
“Like him?”
The coffee almost spurts out of your mouth, but you still try to keep your composure and only choke silently on the sip that you’re swallowing. “He seems like a cool guy.”
Johnny snorts, “A cool guy, really?”
“What do you want me to say? I barely know him.” You don’t like the smirk that crosses your friend’s face, you know what kind of grin it is, the smirk of a man that has a plan you know nothing about, and you don’t like not being aware of what is going on. “Johnny?”
“Well, you could get to know him better?”
Your eyebrow rises and you almost stop walking, your brain running too fast trying to keep up with your friend’s bullshit. “What do you mean?”
“He asked if I could give him your number, wanted to be sure it was okay with you.”
“He asked about me?”
Johnny hums, slurping loudly on his straw. Aren’t straws banned? Why does this place still sell them? Just so he can get on your nerves? You are brought out of your straw-hatred thoughts when he speaks again.
“Told me you talked the other night.”
“Talked,” you snort before coughing. “I mean, the music was loud, and we could barely make a conversation, but yes, he seems… fine.”
“He seemed interested.”
“Well, give him my number, I’m sure he won’t text me anyway.”
You got Haechan wrong. So many times actually, because every time you expected he would do something, he would always surprise you by doing the opposite and you weren’t sure it was a good thing.
When you got home after parting your ways with Johnny, the last thing you were expecting was to get out of the shower and see the notification on your phone from an unknown number.
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
hi, it’s haechan. guess you remember me cause johnny gave me your number
thanks for giving him the consent btw
we were so busy last night that we didn’t think about this
You hate to admit it, but you stare at the phone a little too long, why is he so polite about it? Damn, is your bar set so low? Is it really that bad that 90% of the men you met would’ve sent you a dick pic as the first message or a ‘what would you if I was in the shower with you’ text? Probably it is.
You quickly shake your head, biting your thumb, and get up from the bed, swearing because you already left a wet patch on the duvet.
“I can’t answer naked,” you whisper, opening the chat and already thinking about what to reply. “I mean, it could come in handy if he asks for nudes but… what the fuck am I talking about?” You curse before throwing the locked phone in the middle of the bed and rushing to the closet to grab some new clothes.
When you’re all done, in black sweatpants and a white long-sleeve shirt, hair dry, and skincare applied, you slump on the bed and face what has a big chance of becoming your new toy.
you
hi! yes i can’t really forget you
“Oh, jesus, are you kidding me? That’s cheesy. He will never get that I mean I can’t forget about his fingers, tongue, and cock, right?” You huff, throwing your head back, trying to think of something else.
you
hi! yes i remember
“There, so we don’t sound like a pathetic loser,” you hum happily, pressing send. And with that, you might’ve avoided that, but he’s trying to win the race of the best pathetic losers because he replies in less than a minute.
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
great, feared you forgot about me again
anyway, how are you?
You stare at the phone, not because you want to make him wait — you really couldn’t get those tricks, truly sure that if somebody is interested in you they won’t disappear or appear based on how fast or slow you reply — you’re truly shocked because, damn, a small taste of you and he is already a sore loser, and you’re not ready for a half-assed small talk conversation.
Your fingers start typing anyway.
you
good, went on a run with j
you?
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
stayed humble and played with some of my friends
“Oh, he’s a gamer? That’s why he’s good with his fingers,” you let out before you can think of what you’re saying, and also ask yourself since when you started talking to yourself so much. Maybe Johnny is right, being alone is fucking you up.
you
did you win?
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
of course, babe
do you know whom you’re talking to?
A loser.
You think but you don’t write it.
A loser.
You think of yourself when reading the message, you can hear his honey-like voice whisper ‘babe’ to your ear and your core starts throbbing as if she’s been left starving for years.
you
haha hope you had fun
Dammit. Since when do you suck so much at holding a conversation? Why aren’t you flirting back? Wait, is he flirting?
Another groan leaves your lips as you plunge even southern on the bed and lock the phone again, hoping he lost interest in you after that dry-ass message and you can go back to your toys and your ex — update, the sex ranking fell down after Haechan, he wasn’t even good for that anymore.
But Haechan surprises you, he always does. When your phone dings again you expect to find Johnny congratulating you for being a dumb bitch but instead your jaw falls on the floor.
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
sure did
btw
can i take you out tomorrow? johnny told me you stop working at twelve on friday so it shouldn’t be a problem
dinner out? i’ll come to pick you up at 7
“What the fuck?” Your attempt at don’t look like a crazy single 40 years old woman that fell into madness by being only surrounded by her cats didn’t last long. “What the actual fuck?”
Is that a date? He asked you how you’re doing for some sort of niceties before dropping the question just like that? Why is Johnny so nosy going around telling your business — mental note; talk to Johnny about shutting his mouth.
you
fine but i can drive there
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
no dw, it’s a surprise, i’ll drive you
you
thanks, i promise i won’t make you wait
+ xxx xxx xxx xxx
can’t wait to see you 😊
You snort, fucking loser, before going to his contact.
‘pathetic loser’ was added to contacts.
Haechan surprises you even on your first date, or whatever you could call that. As sweet as he seems, you deep down — precisely between your legs — hope it is a dick appointment, but since you aren’t with your car you aren’t so sure about that, he for sure isn’t entering your place that night.
You are punctual, already waiting for him outside of your house, and immediately entering on the passenger side when he stops on the sidewalk.
“Am I late?” Haechan asks when he sees you step in so promptly.
“No. Why wait, though? See that the first time it was Johnny’s fault?”
Haechan chuckles before giving you a brief look, studying your red dress, the heels, and the small bag, and then starts the car again. “It’s always Johnny’s fault.”
Yeah, you totally agree.
“So, where are we going?” You ask, hating the silence that’s filling the car. After the small talks, you stopped conversating, and even if it wasn’t awkward you didn’t want your brain to travel to places.
“I told you, it’s a surprise.”
“I don’t really like surprises,” you confess, turning your gaze to him, leaving the city behind you.
“Damn, you bite back,” he whispers, and you blink in surprise.
“Am I too honest?”
“Don’t know, I don’t know you yet.”
You think for a second that you should end this as soon as possible, he seems too sweet and even if you don’t do it on purpose, you know you can come off as too edgy at times. Not everyone likes being told things to their faces or having set boundaries they couldn’t cross, but you mean no harm, you just want your space protected.
“It wasn’t supposed to come out harshly, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to meet his eyes and when he stops at the traffic lights, he turns to stare at you. “It was kinda a ‘get to know me’ information and I sounded like a bitch.”
Haechan laughs, shaking his head, fingers tapping on the wheel, probably to release the tension in his muscles. “I wasn’t offended, I just wasn’t expecting you to be so upfront. People… lie.”
“I hate liars,” your voice comes out just like before and you curse under your breath.
“Another ‘get to know me’ information?” He questions, his voice playful while a gentle smile curls his lips.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “Add it to the list, it might be helpful if you don’t want to end up on my blacklist.”
The biggest surprise Haechan gifts you is that… he is not an asshole.
You expected he would say something during dinner to make your pussy dry, brain dead and stomach convulsing with the urge of puking, but… he didn’t. Nothing dumb, insensitive, tone-deaf, cringy, or creepy came out of his mouth.
Even when he flirted, he knew how to do it right. He was so fucking good at it, being so subtle he left you speechless and warm, making you dizzy, and, after the tenth eyebrow rise and lick of his lips, even wet.
And he was funny. Quickly going down the memory lane you could recall that the only man that genuinely made you smile so much was Johnny.
And well, you’re not quite sure how to feel about this.
The only thing you feel is the disappointment when he drops you back home and you know you won’t get a good fuck out of that — amazing — night.
“So, did you have a great time?” He asks, rubbing his hands together to warm them while he turns his torso to stare at you, and you see his eyes linger on you a bit more, probably wanting to take in for the last time how beautiful you looked that night, not that he ever stopped reminding you.
“Yeah,” you whisper, almost shily. “It was fun, and the food was so good.” Yeah, the food. Not you. Absolutely not you. Never you.
Haechan smiles, nodding. “Glad you had fun; I’ve never been there, so it was a shot in the dark.”
“Mhh,” you hum, staring at his lips, thinking how badly you want them on you before shaking your head. “It was a good shot in the dark.”
“Yeah, sometimes I don’t make a mess,” he jokes, and you let out a laugh too. Good for you, you think. You always make a mess, no matter how hard you try to avoid it.
“Well, it’s… kinda late,” you start saying, rubbing your arms with your palms, and tapping your heels, hoping he would make a move and drive you to his place, as if he could mentally get you and know that you’re insane and there are only five people that can set foot in your house.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking at you. Probably thinking the same, it’s only logical for him to expect you to be the one to make the first move, your place is right behind you, and you only have to ask him to go inside. But you don’t. And he doesn’t even think about kissing you, of course, he doesn’t, you didn’t even let him kiss you while he was fucking you, he’s sure you would slap him if he only moved closer now.
“‘Kay,” you sigh, undoing the belt and placing your hand on the handle, “I’ll go in. Thanks for the night, the drive, the food, and the laughs.” A tender smile is sitting on your face when you say that to him before making your way out, bending to say goodbye again, just in time to get the thin veil of slight disappointment and sadness in his eyes.
“That’s what matters,” he smiles. “We can do this again. If you want to,” he adds, panicking, almost as if he had asked to marry you just to regret it two seconds later.
“Yeah, we can,” you smile. “It’s pretty chilly out here, so,” you shrug, “goodnight?”
“Can’t wait to see you again, then. Goodnight,” he says before waving at you.
You see he waits for you to get inside before his car starts again to head home and you find yourself grinning like a fool when the door closes behind you.
Yeah, he’s definitely a loser.
You could call that the start of your friendship, but surely not where the benefits started. Actually, the whole sex thing took a toll for a few weeks where you only got to know each other and hung out casually. You can’t lie, you were sad about it, and you thought you screw it all up that night when you didn’t let him in; nothing could’ve gone wrong for one time you let him in, right? He would’ve fucked you into the weekend, making you see heaven, and then you could’ve kicked him out of the house, right? But you didn’t, and now you are here, absorbed in your torments, trying to find a way to get back to where you started, possibly without ruining your friendship, of course.
You know the chemistry between you two is still there, but it’s like he’s holding back. You surely aren’t; flirting shamelessly with him, sometimes even in front of your — now common — friends (no need to worry about Johnny, he knows you can flirt with plants when you’re in a peak of insanity and good mood, nothing of your remarks is ever serious — it is with Haechan, but he doesn’t know — you just have zero skills of keeping your tongue inside your mouth and your thoughts inside your brain).
So, you understand that you need to make a bolder move, the dinners and the meets up around town aren’t working, and your move is Johnny and another night out at the club.
It works. After dancing together almost all night in a corner of the club, you find yourself pressed against a wall while his hands run on your body and his lips — shily — kiss your neck, and you know you got him.
“Your place,” you slur, pushing him away, and grabbing his hand to drag him to get your jackets.
“But Mark’s at —”
“As far as I am concerned, Mark can listen to us all night, I don’t care. We’re not fucking in the car.”
“Your place. What about your pla—” he tries to argue but your glare when you turn around and you’re now face to face stops him.
“Your place, now.”
He’s good at following orders, or maybe you’re just scary when you want to, but whatever the motive, all that matters to you is that after a fifteen minutes drive — the longest of your life — and a few minutes walk from the car to the apartment, you have Haechan buried between your legs, eating you out as if that’s what he was sent on earth to do.
You wish you could care about trying to keep it low and don’t moan loudly for Mark, but when Haechan slips two fingers in you and starts sucking on your clit with more strength, his poor roommate slips out of your mind completely.
“Fuck,” you moan as your head rolls back, rubbing against the pillows of his bed, and your legs part unconsciously.
“You’re so embarrassingly wet,” Haechan notices, standing on his elbow and licking his lips clean with a flick of his tongue. “Bet even Mark can hear how wet you are,” he mocks, quickening the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, causing the lewd sounds of your wetness to be even louder.
“Shut up!” You groan, slamming your hand next to you on the mattress before your fist moves in a ball and traps the sheets between your fingers.
Haechan grins, and a chuckle rolls from his lips while his eyes skim your face, meeting your eyes that are — pathetically — trying to glare at him. “You’re so pretty like this, you know?”
Another annoyed grunt slips out of your mouth, and you move your head to the side to avoid seeing his face.
But Haechan clicks his tongue and pulls out of you, making you whine and move your hand to bring his fingers right where they were. He’s faster than you when he sits up and cups your face with his clean hand as his fingers plunge back into you with no warning, cutting the air in your lungs and causing your eyes to flutter shut.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he orders and you unwillingly open them again, locking them in his. “That’s it, pretty girl.”
The way those two words roll from his lips shouldn’t make your stomach twist, but they do, you prefer blaming it on the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, brushing against your sweet spot and driving you closer to the climax second after second.
“I’m...” you mumble, chest lifting erratically because the eye contact is driving you more insane than his hand in you, “...close.”
The grin that appears on his face is so slappable but you have no strength to lift your hand and do anything, and Haechan can see it in your eyes. That’s how he wants you, speechless.
“Come for me, babe,” he urges you, pressing his thumb on your clit and moving it in circles.
“Fuck,” you rasp out, your hand reaches his wrist, and he shakes his head, tsking.
“No, you’re not pushing me away,” he says, but he doesn’t move your hand away, you are not even trying to push him off, well, you are, but the attempt is laughable and embarrassing.
“Too much, too much,” you cry out, voice coming out muffled by his hand still wrapped around your chin. “Haechan, please.”
“Come, we both know you can take much more, don’t play with me,” he growls, leaning in to trap your lips in a messy, heated kiss. “Be good and come for me, would you?”
You moan and hum against his lips, your hand around his wrist tightens the grip but not to push him away, to hold onto him while his fingers move even faster in and out, your hips buck up and your feet press against the mattress while he keeps you down. You feel like you can’t breathe when the orgasm breaks through and you see stars, shaking under him as you feel the grin on his face as he muffles your whimpers in his mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry out, slapping his hand away when he doesn’t stop moving after your high dimmed down. “Haechan, fucking stop.”
He laughs deeply and stands away from you, his fingers slip out of you but soon after they’re inside his mouth as he licks them clean while staring straight into your eyes.
“You will drive me insane,” you mutter low enough only for you to hear and Haechan raises a brow, silently questioning you to repeat, but you won’t tell him that. “Fuck me,” you request instead, sitting and grabbing the hem of your shirt to lift it off your head, throwing it around the room.
“Hey, I wanted to undress you,” he pouts, watching you unclasp the bra that meets the same fate as the shirt soon after.
“Too late, should’ve thought about it before.”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t move from his position, too busy staring at your naked form. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Your eyes roll back in your skull while a heavy sigh leaves your lips. “Great, can you fuck me, please,” your voice is venomously nice, and gets him on top of you in a second.
“Though it was too much? Are you sure you can take it?”
“If you don’t fuck me, I’ll ask Mark to do it and will make you watch while you’re tied to a chair.”
He whistles with enthusiasm, raising a brow, “That sounds pretty hot, you know? But I don’t think Mark’s the type to enjoy these things. Should we ask somebody else?”
“Is there anything that is actually a threat to you or are you so horny that anything is a possibility?”
“Don’t know,” he whispers with a light tone as he leans in and starts kissing your neck, moving down until his lips wrap around your hard nipple, sucking harshly enough to make you hiss before he keeps talking, “isn’t life boring if you don’t at least try everything once?”
Your stare could burn him alive. “I swear this is the last time you’re fucking me.”
“Oh, shut up,” he groans, kissing you to silence you. “Anything legal and not dangerous.”
“I don’t care about that,” you almost scream. “Just fuck me, now.”
“Ask nicely,” he coos, caressing your cheek with the back of his index finger and you glare at him.
“Mark.”
“Fine,” he rolls his eyes and before you can say another word he slips into you. Your teeth trap your lower lip to muffle a high moan to be heard in the entire house and your nails dig into his back. “Gave you what you wanted.”
“Not yet,” you whisper through gritted teeth as your body gets used to his size. “Fuck me.”
“As you wish,” he replies, adjusting better between your legs to find the right position, and after a few seconds, he’s thrusting into you. This is ten times more comfortable than the fuck in the car and you can’t believe it’s happening again. “Yeah, definitely like you better like this,” he comments with a cocky smirk, his eyes are still on your face, and his hands are holding tight on your hips.
“Like you better when you fuck me and keep your mouth shut,” you bite back. You don’t know why you two get so heated up during sex — fair, two times is not enough to draw conclusions and come up with statistics, but to you, it’s clear this is the way you two talk to each other when things get spicy — when you talk normally, you’re not like this.
Haechan rolls his eyes and grunts as he pushes with more vigor inside you, swiftly pushing your thighs against your chest with his body, and blocking your wrists over your head. His lips crush messily against yours, trapping them in a rough kiss.
Your eyes roll in the back of your head when he hits the sensitive spot inside you, and your legs immediately wrap around his waist to keep him close to you. You haven’t died yet — obviously — but this feels like the closest thing to heaven — you doubt you’ll go to heaven, to be honest — but anyway this; his hips rolling against you so perfectly, his hand on your hip and the other around your wrist, his lips on your neck and collarbones, and his cock buried deep into you, this is a taste of heaven, the higher you ever felt and probably will ever feel. And it feels humiliating that he’s got you like this after the second time together, but you don’t want to fight the feeling.
And you don’t. You moan, even letting out chants of his name shamelessly, and he has to remind you with an amused grin that you’re not alone. Mark is right next door and as funny as it might be, Haechan is not sure he wants to share you in any kind of way, no, not even the way you whimper and squirm under him.
“Keep quiet, babe,” he hushes you, kissing you again, and you have no strength to push him off. Maybe you can get used to his kisses, after all, it’s just sex, and for some spell, Haechan turns everything he does into sex, so a few heated kisses while he pounds into you until the bed squeaks won’t make you fall head over heels for him.
You nod, eyelids fluttering as you try to focus on him. His brown hair is falling on his forehead, and there’s a cute, sexy, frown in the middle of his forehead, while his eyes are staring into yours, and you feel the knot in your stomach tug strongly, making your breath cut short. He is so intense, it’s like he can reach so deep into you and discover parts of you that are still untouched.
“Haechan, fuck,” your voice gets higher when he pulls your hips closer to him and changes angle to fuck into you better, “I won’t last.”
He snorts, “Good.”
“No, no good, I…” I want you. I want you all night. I want you all over me until your smell consumes mine. You want to scream but it’s too pathetic. You never went this far for some sex. But nobody ever felt this good either.
“I can fuck you all night,” he chuckles while his thumb finds your clit and starts torturing you even more. “Don’t believe me?”
You groan. You do. You just know. He’s been sent by the gods at this point and you’re sure you won’t find flaws in him anytime soon, but you can’t. You can’t stay the night. You can’t let him get so deep into your skin so soon.
“Come,” he urges you, “don’t hold back.”
Your jaw tenses before going slack when he flicks your clit just right, triggering your orgasm. It’s intense, running into you from head to toe with so much force that you have to slap your hand on your mouth to avoid waking Mark up. You think Haechan’s close too, you can hear how his moans got lighter and whinier, but once again, he surprises you.
You don’t have time to complain when Haechan pulls away, leaving you empty. He turns you around, lightly slapping your asscheek to order you to get on your knees while your shoulders stay flat on the mattress, you wouldn’t have the strength to stand on your arm even if you wanted to.
“Want one more?” He asks against your ear, teasing his tip against your soaked entrance and brushing it against your throbbing clit in quick motions.
You hum, nodding against the pillow, “Please, please, fuck me again.”
You almost feel the smirk against your face before he fills you once more, stretching your sensitive pussy, making more of your cum drip out of you.
Your eyes fall shout, a raspy, low moan slips out of your lips, this position is making you feel him even more as the first orgasm has enhanced your senses. You feel like a puddle under him.
“You feel so good, baby,” he groans, throwing his head back as he picks up the rhythm of before, holding onto your hips so tightly his nails sink into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “So warm and wet for me.”
You hide your head between the pillows, biting back the moans, wondering why Mark didn’t push down the door already because there’s no way he’s not hearing all of this. But for some reason, the idea of him listening turns you on even more.
And it’s like Haechan gets it. He leans back against you, brushing your hair away so his lips can be right against your earlobe. “What are you thinking, babe?”
“Ma-mark,” you slur through ragged breaths, “not him, not like,” the words die in your throat, afraid he might misunderstand, “what if he knows?”
Haechan’s laugh hits you straight to the core, it’s deep and mocking, and you clench harder around him. “Oh, honey,” he whispers, and his voice feels like honey, thick and velvety, “I think he knows.”
You shake your head, trying to convince yourself he might be a heavy sleeper, but your body is following another direction, feeling excited just at the idea, so you push your ass up.
“You can’t keep quiet, you’re so fucking loud it’s like you want to get caught,” he taunts, smacking the side of your thighs, smirking when your muscles tense in response. “Want him to know I’m making you feel this good?”
You deny with a movement of your head, but words fail to come out because you feel on the edge again and you don’t know how much longer you can last.
Haechan clicks his tongue and then presses his chest against your back. “Let’s see if this can keep you quiet.” The last thing you expect are his fingers pushed into your mouth, but after the first surprise, you don’t even complain. Your mouth wraps around his three digits and you start to suck on them eagerly, receiving a moan of approval from him. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” He knows he won’t last when your eyes flutter at the compliment and you start sucking on them even harder, he can only think about you taking his cock instead.
“Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles, as the images in his fantasy and the one in front of his eyes start having the best on him, hips starting to lose control, “I’m close.”
You start fucking back into him, and that’s the last thing he needs to come. His moans are higher, and when you turn your head to the side you see his trying to hold them in, biting his lips and gripping your hips tighter with the hand that is not in your mouth.
The sight of him losing his mind is enough to make you lose yours. You’re in ecstasy as your orgasm pervades your body.
“Shit,” Haechan growls one last time, his fingers slip out of your mouth and he pulls out of you before he’d like to, squirting some of his cum on your ass and thighs. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”
You barely realize what he’s talking about, but honestly, you don’t care. For what you’re concerned, after the fuck you had, he could’ve come all over you and you wouldn’t have minded.
“It’s fine,” you breathe out. Your eyes fall shut as you focus on your erratic breath, feeling him slump next to you without any other words.
“Are you okay? Was it too much?” He asks, and at first, you think he’s bragging but when your eyes meet, you realize he’s being genuine. So you nod and beam at him as the only reply you can give him at the moment.
You lie in silence for a bit, your bodies are not touching and you can only feel his heavy breath calm down with yours as you both wait for your body to cool down again. You don’t wait to be fully recovered to stand up and slip out of the covers, too afraid that sleep will take over you and block you at his side.
“What are you doing?” He questions, staring at you with an arm under his head.
“Putting my clothes back on,” you reply with a lift of shoulders as if that wasn’t obvious. You try to search for a bin where you can throw the tissues you used to clean yourself but you can’t find any, so you remind yourself to search in the kitchen before leaving.
“You can wear something mine.”
“I would have to hand it back next time we see each other, I can survive in this a bit longer.”
“You’re sleeping with those clothes?” Confusion blooms on his face as he watches your shaky hands struggle with the zip.
“No, I’ll change myself into my nightgown.”
A frown almost connects his brows before he voices out his doubts, “I don’t have it here.”
“I’m leaving,” you say with a hint of annoyance, he thought you were sleeping there, really?
“Leaving? You can stay.”
You don’t answer immediately, grabbing your phone to book a ride home, and then reply while shoving the phone in your bag. “No, thanks.”
“Do I have to drive you home?”
“No, I’ve already called a Uber.”
You see Haechan’s mouth move but nothing comes out and he only stretches his limbs. “I think that might take a while to arrive, though. It’s cold outside.”
“It’s spring,” you say, walking to the mirror on wobbly legs to make sure you look decent, fixing your air and clothes.
“It’s still cold. At least wait in the living room,” he proposes, now sitting on the mattress as he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.
“I’ll be fine,” you smile, turning around, and holding your bag on your shoulder. “I survived walking in a wood at night when I was fifteen, I can survive waiting under your building’s porch.”
“You’re always so — so,” he sighs, shaking his head, giving up finding an adjective to describe you.
You chuckle, “Always? And you don’t know me yet.”
“It sounds like a threat,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.
You open the door, and take a step outside, only showing him your face as you wink, “Oh, it is.”
Probably there was some magic in the air — the polluted air of the city made some kind of magic happen — but from then on, Haechan stopped holding back. He wasn’t shy when he texted you ‘house empty, wanna come over?’ leaving no doubts about what was going to happen if you said yes. You found it funny how he treated Mark like his parents, especially after you were sure he heard you fuck that night, but of course, you said yes.
pathetic loser
dinner at that trashy fast food place with the arcade and then dessert at my place😉
And you said yes.
pathetic loser
i’m busy this friday but marks’s out saturday so we have the whole day to ourselves
And you said yes. p.s: he made you come like ten times, so it was worth it.
pathetic loser
wanna skip the group hang out and fuck around?
And you said yes.
You kept saying yes until you also started asking, and he obviously didn’t decline. It flowed and usually, you didn’t like to leave things unnamed, but you were terrified that if you asked, ‘what are we?’ he would’ve run away scared or, worse, confessed with his big brown eyes and that fucking glint they had inside.
You didn’t need him anyway to know what you were. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies, sex partners, or any other name you want to give it, you were that. Nothing more and nothing less.
It still wasn’t your typical thing. You two never sat down and discussed anything, your dear boundaries were nowhere to be found, or better, they existed, somehow he respected them, but you never said them out loud. Not that it was hard to get them, when you never invited him home, never leaned in for a kiss, and never stayed over, he knew your limits and that he had to respect them.
So, everything worked perfectly fine.
Until your rules started to be broken one by one before you could even notice, or better, before you could care to fix all the changes that were happening in your life because of Haechan.
pathetic loser
hey
me and the boys are going on a trip to the coast this weekend
wanna come along?
you
who are the boys?
pathetic loser
yes, johnny is coming
You roll your eyes at the screen before tapping a reply.
you
didn’t ask that : /
but yes, need some time off
you will pick me up, right?
pathetic loser
you’re so pretentious
don’t you think i should propose to you to come pick you up like a gentleman?
you
fine gentleman, pick me up at my place, see you this friday!
pathetic loser
i can’t stand you
It’s Johnny’s fault. It’s his house on the coast, his parents’, to be precise. It’s his fault if right now you have Haechan so close and can’t make a move because whatever is going on between you two is a secret.
You’re still not sure why it wasn’t Johnny the one to invite you there, you wonder if maybe Haechan slipped and confessed to him that something is going on between you, but you’re sure that Johnny would’ve already bragged to you about how he made the ‘perfect match’ or how it was thanks to him you were finally getting laid, surely after screaming at you because ‘we never keep things a secret from each other’.
You’re brought out of your thoughts when a ball hits you and you lift your head to see Mark running to you, mumbling apologies as if he had stabbed you.
“I’m fine, it’s just a ball,” you smile to reassure him and lift a hand to cover your eyes because the sun is annoying you. Unfortunately, the sun is not blinding you enough for your wishes because you can perfectly see Haechan playing volleyball a few meters in front of you. You’re sitting on the sand, a sundress on you, while the others left you to play. You weren’t in the mood, too busy letting your thoughts get the best of you, a mix of lewd images of what you would’ve done to the man you couldn’t drift your eyes from and sadness looming over your head like a cartoon cloud.
“Hey, want something to drink?” You’re still so caught up that you don’t realize Haechan is talking to you. His blouse is big and covers his body, only leaving his arms exposed and a small portion of his chest — he doesn’t like to show much of his body — and you get lost in his sun-kissed skin another time, but when he calls your name, you shake your head and cough, trying to play it cool.
“Yes, what?”
“We’re grabbing something to drink, want some?”
“Oh, yeah, some tea.”
“Got it,” he says as if he’s accepting a commend and waves you goodbye before running to the others and you follow him with your gaze until he gets out of your line of view.
You sigh, fanning yourself because even if luckily today the weather is not too hot, you still can’t stand the heat sticking to your skin. You’ve pondered before about jumping in the sea and freshening up, but if just seeing the others having fun had brought back too many — painful — memories, you’re not so sure you can take having ‘fun’ in person.
“Here’s your tea,” Haechan says after a while with a bottle in hand, once again pulling you out of the tornado of melancholia that was drowning you.
You smile, lifting your head and grabbing the drink from his hand. “Peach? How do you know it’s my favorite?”
“You told me,” he replies, sitting next to you, a bit too close, but you don’t scoot over, you like the way your legs brush against each other and also the fact he decided to sit with you and not with your group of friends near the volleyball net.
“Did I? When?”
Haechan laughs at the surprised expression that creates a cute, small crease on your forehead and says, “the few times we had a serious conversation that didn’t include dirty talking?”
You roll your eyes, open the lid and take a sip of the cold liquid, immediately feeling better. “You make it sound as if we don’t hang out normally.”
“We do,” he replies but it’s like he’s not done, as if there’s something more he wants to tell or confess. He stops for a second, sipping on his bottle while staring at the sea at the horizon before resting his forearm on his knees and sighing, “but you never say anything about yourself.”
You chuckle nervously, fingers fidgeting with the cap of the bottle. “What’s to know about me?”
“Everything. You’re a secret.”
You can hear the bittersweetness in his tone, and if you’d stare for a second more, you would also catch it in his eyes, but you dismiss him and the things he’s silently telling you with his body. You sneer under your breath and shake your shoulders before words roll from your mouth. “Secrets are exciting.”
He nods, pressing his lips in a thin line to hold in a groan of disagreement. “When you know them and you have to keep them away from the rest of the world.”
“You want to keep me away?” You joke tenderly, meeting his brown eyes, even warmer and more welcoming now that the sunlight is reflecting in them.
He laughs, shaking his head. This time he’s the one diverting his gaze, the next words that are about to come out sound too vulnerable in his head and he doesn’t want to imagine how heavy they will sound out loud. “I’m just saying, I would keep some things of you only for me to know.”
You hum, nodding while staring at the sand, showing nonchalance even if there’s a circus in your stomach. Maybe you can give him something without breaking another one of your rules, but you soon realize that he already knows the small things about you that you told him to get to know each other. He knows where you work, he knows you have a brother, and you know he has two and a sister. He knows you once found a grass snake in a park and took it home because you wanted a snake pet and your father almost threw you outside (affectionately, no kids or animals were hurt, you just had to give it back to nature). He knows your birthday and your favorite color. Isn’t that enough?
“There’s nothing to know about me.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re boring, aren’t you?” He mocks with sarcasm and his head falls back in annoyance. “You don’t strike as the bland type of person so try again.”
“I just don’t get what you want to know. Ask me questions and I’ll answer.” And I’ll lie, that’s what you truly think.
But Haechan shakes his head, gulping down another mouthful of water. “Nevermind, you don’t get it.”
No, you don’t get it, or maybe you’re pretending not to get it, that he wants to know you. He wants to learn by watching, by studying you, but you always slip away, you don’t let him close. He doesn’t care about questions, this is not a quiz for him, but maybe that’s the fun of you. He has to work extra hard. And he will.
“It’s pretty here.” Haechan’s voice fills the night air, it’s chilly outside, and you’re sitting on the small sofa under the porch. There’s nobody but the two of you at home, the others decided to go out and visit the small coastal town at night, but you were too tired to drag your feet any longer, and honestly, you thought you were all alone.
You hum, moving to the side to leave him some space next to you. “We used to come here during summer,” you let out, and it’s impossible to control the smile on your face when you remember your childhood with your and Johnny’s family. “I always sat here at night, I liked the quiet of the beach and the lights of the towns of the coast. My brother didn’t get it,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “he was too busy playing with Johnny. Even when they stopped being best friends, it was like something shifted in summer. Something about this place feels… different.”
Haechan smiles, he’s not staring at the view, his eyes are locked on you. He thinks that you are different here. He can’t say you two aren’t close, but it’s clear you never let him too close, and he’d like to know why. He knows exactly where your relationship stands, it’s just sex, and he’s fine like this, really, but he wonders if you only do it to protect your heart from unwanted inconveniences or if you don’t trust him enough to let him in. He often thought about prying it with Johnny, but he knows that as soon as your name will slip out of his lips, Johnny will twist everything, and probably that would drift you even further from him. You never had a conversation but it’s clear you both want to keep this between you.
“It feels like the world stops here,” he says instead to don’t let the conversation die before moving his gaze away, hearing you hum an affirmative response.
It really feels like time has stopped, and there’s undefined electricity running between you, it’s the same as always and it’s different at the same time.
“Johnny didn’t tell me about this,” you breathe out; you know it could end in a catastrophe, but you need answers. “Did he ask you to invite me, or did you do it?”
Haechan doesn’t answer right away, you see him gulp and you fear the worst. There it is, the confession you don’t need, you don’t want it, because he is the best sex you ever had, nobody ever made you feel like that, he completely unplugs your brain and for a few hours, you can leave all your problems at the door, and also because after all, he’s a good friend, and love would screw this all up.
“He told me I could invite some other of our friends,” he replies, “and I asked about you, and he told me I could ask. He was going to invite you, but I did it first,” he explains, playing with a loose string of his shorts that are barely covering his thighs. “Why?”
You shrug, it’s the only thing you can do, a breath of relief would be too obvious. “Nothing, I was just wondering. Usually, he organizes these things with me.”
“Oh,” he whispers, “I think that initially it was supposed to be a boys’ thing only, then Mark brought up Minjeong and here we are.”
You know he doesn’t mean it that way, but that ‘here we are’ makes shivers run down your spine. Because here you are. This is the closest thing to breaking rule number 3 and 4 and so many others. It’s just the two of you, watching the sunset while the sea plays its melody just for you to listen. This is romantic. He’s not fucking you shamelessly under the porch where everyone can see. You are laughing together, passing a bottle of soju, and sharing touches that feel too intimate. You can’t break any more rules.
“I was thinking — oh, shit,” Haechan mumbles before you shut him up by jumping on him and crashing his lips on yours, your fingers locking immediately in his hair and pulling it back harshly. “Wow, fuck, needy tonight?”
You don’t reply, your lips move down to bite his neck while your hips start grinding on him.
“Calm down, damn, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, wrapping his hands on your waist now that the shock is gone, “and don’t mark me, you don’t want the others to find out, right?”
No, you don’t. Or maybe you do, maybe it’s time for something to happen and break you and him apart. Cause you feel you’re going down a slippery slope and you don’t like this. Maybe you should fuck this whole thing up like you always do. But you can’t, deep down, you don’t want to.
“It’s only been a week,” Haechan mumbles through the kiss. “You’re so needy.”
“Can you just shut up?” You argue, pressing your hips down on him, smirking when you feel his dick start to press up against you. “So, you do want me.”
He snorts, “Of course, I do. I wasn’t rejecting, I was just pointing out — fuck,” he whimpers breathlessly when you bite his lips and his nails dig in the exposed skin of your back, your crop top leaving so much bare.
“Want you,” you say as if you have to make it any more obvious.
“It’s a bit too public, don’t you think so?”
You shake your head, moving a hand between your bodies to open the button of your shorts but he stops you again, forcing your hands behind your back, catching you by surprise.
“I’d love to fuck you right here, in front of the sea and the sunset, but if one of our friends comes back before time, we’re fucked with no way out, so… can we take it inside?”
You nod, mumbling a faint positive answer, thinking of getting up and running upstairs, but Haechan has no intention of breaking the contact. He lifts you up after freeing your hands so you can secure them around his neck and then pushes the front door open.
“Let’s give it a turn of keys,” he says, twisting the keys in the lock so you’ll have extra time if by the time they’ll come back you won’t be done. You wait patiently, enjoying the way it feels to be in his arms, and let him carry you on the second floor where the bedroom you share is. Was it a great thing or a curse, you still can’t tell, but for now it seems like a good thing.
When you cross the doorframe, the clothes are on the floor in less than a minute and your bodies are already tangled in the bedsheets, hands running on each other with eager and soft whimpers filling those four walls.
You don’t keep track of how long you spend kissing — or eating each other — but you’re sure a few minutes pass by of you just grinding against each other while your tongues and lips meet in a mess.
“Fuck,” Haechan whispers, his hot breath puffing against your warm, wet, now plumper, lips. “Com’ere.” He lays on the bed, patting the space next to his face and you stare at him with confused eyes. He sighs, “On my face, honey. On my face.”
“Oh.”
He quirks a brow. “You were so eager before, what happened?”
You shake your head, moving closer to him, planting your knees at the sides of his chest. “I was, I mean, I am, I want you.”
“So? On my face.”
“I — I don’t…”
Haechan’s eyes roll back and a heavy annoyed groan comes out of his mouth, “Oh God, don’t tell me your ex never done that?”
“Hyuck, he would rarely eat me out while I was laying, do you think he would make me sit on his face?”
“Asshole.”
“Haechan!”
“He’s an asshole, you know it! But I’m not, so come here and sit on your throne.”
“You didn’t just call your face my throne?” Your tone is a mix of annoyance and incredulity, but you actually found that too hot to handle.
“I very much did. And now, do I have to drag you or will you fucking sit?”
You gulp, nodding swiftly, but your legs are slower at moving next to his face and he doesn’t like your hesitation. You yelp when his hands grab your ass and your thigh and pull you right where he wanted you.
“Was it that hard?” He asks teasingly, almost growling so close to your skin, before winking at your flustered face.
The sight of him under you, and his breath colliding with your pussy, make your knees tremble already. “No — no.”
“Good. But you still didn’t listen,” he says sternly.
“I did, I’m on your face,” you defend.
“Are you sitting?”
“No.”
“What are you waiting for? Do I have to do everything tonight?” His tone is getting lower, and the edge of anger in it causes your pussy to clench around nothing.
“But I will… I will break your neck.”
“And I will die like a man,” he insists, challenging you with a glare.
“No, it’s —”
His mad, animalistic, growl on your pussy when he forcefully slams you on him makes you choke on a moan and throw your head back while your hands automatically grab the headboard to hold onto something. Haechan tends to always be messy when he eats you out, he never does things you don’t like, but he has to make sure you know he’s enjoying it, so he’s always a bit messier and louder than he has to be. But this time he’s taking his everything to let you know how badly he wants you. His fingers are planted on your skin, his nose is pressing right against your clit while his tongue moves to leave kitten licks that quickly turn into open-mouthed kisses.
“Fuck,” you moan, hands clenching tight around the bar, and head falling down to see him. His eyes are closed and he’s having the time of his life as he sucks at your clit and lips with eagerness.
“You’re so hot from here,” he mumbles, stopping only for a second to catch his breath before he resumes his movements. His pink muscle moves down, teasing your entrance, slurping up the juices that are dripping out of you, and when your thighs clench around his head in response, he groans gutturally.
You think you hurt him and try to pull up, but he forces you down with strength.
“Don’t fucking move,” he growls, glaring at you, and you can only hum in reply, feeling your body melt under his skilled movements.
When Haechan’s lips dare to move down on your sensitive rim, you jolt, but he’s fast at keeping you in place, his hands on your thighs as he presses them down and sends you a daring glare.
“Hae — I don’t think…”
“Yeah, exactly, don’t think,” he snarls, the movements on you getting sloppier and louder, making you start to grind against him unconsciously.
Moans choke you up as he explores new things with you, sending you into a new dimension. You can’t fully comprehend you’re sitting on top of his face while he messily eats out your pussy and your ass. You can’t believe he’s moaning under you, holding you tight, one hand busy touching your ass while the other wonders on your upper chest caressing your waist and your boobs.
You feel high and drunk on him. So much you can barely mutter a warning before you come, shaking on top of him, your movements are frenetic as you reach your peak while cries of his name slur out of your mouth with low moans. A tear almost slips from your eyes when Haechan doesn’t stop right away and keeps stimulating your sensitive spots, it’s too much and you collapse on the other side, trying to catch your breath.
Haechan chuckles, licking up your juices before rubbing his nose against your neck. “Fuck, I’d eat you out for days,” he comments, rubbing his hands on your stomach. “You’re so pretty when you moan and squirm, whether on top of me or under, and you taste so good.”
“You never let me pay you back.”
He giggles, kissing you, “you don’t have to.”
“But maybe I want to,” you pout. You can’t deny that you live for how much Haechan loves giving you oral, but you enjoy sucking him off just as much. You love how he lets you have control, how husky and warm his moans are, and you love when his hands weakly wrap around your hair… well, he only let you do it once but you had the time of your life and that never happened when you went down with your ex so…
“Have you ever tried anal?” He asks out of nowhere, surprising you.
“With someone? No. By myself… maybe…”
He raises a brow while a smirk curls his lips. “Maybe? What kind of answer is that?”
“I did,” you confess, feeling shy all of a sudden.
“Uh,” he coos, poking your side playfully, “had fun?”
You lick your lips, shrugging. “Fine, I did. I think I like it, but it might be different with, you know, a real person.”
“Would you try?” He asks timidly, looking at you with puppy eyes. As if he has to beg to make you do something, as if he doesn’t know you would try anything with him.
“Yeah, why not.”
“Good, fuck,” he kisses you after letting out the breath he was holding in. “Wanna fuck your ass,” he whispers against your neck, but you can feel the ear-to-ear smile on his face, “wanna be your first time.”
You’d dwell on how cheesy that sounds a bit more if only it wasn’t for his hands groping your ass and squeezing hard while he ruts against your thigh like a pup in heat.
“You’re pathetic,” you mock playfully, tugging his hair back, eliciting a broken moan from him.
“And you’re hot,” he breathes out, moving on top of you to shush you with a kiss while his right arm falls under the bed to search for something. “Been thinking about this all day. You looked so pretty in that short white dress.”
A small smile paints on your face, but it drops when he keeps rummaging in his bag next to the bag. “Can’t you get up to get, I guess, the lube?”
“No,” he almost growls. “Want you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, come on, need you to fuck me.”
“You’re so impatient,” he groans, “but I got it!” He lifts his hand, showing you the small bottle of lube and you snicker at his proud smile.
“You’re such a loser, you’re lucky you’re with me because anybody else would’ve been out of the door by now.”
“And they would lose the best dick of their life, so, dumb decision,” Haechan says before his lips crash on yours again. “And you’re not that dumb, right?”
You shake your head, already feeling your breathing get shorter when his lube-covered fingers start playing with your rim.
“You looked so, so fucking hot in that short sundress, fuck,” he moans, pulling away to sit between your legs, he pushes a finger inside and you bite back a moan. “Wanted to press you against the handrail and fuck you right there on the restaurant balcony.”
Your head rolls back, thinking of that afternoon. The tension between you could be cut with a knife, and there was something thrilling about the way you couldn’t keep your eyes — and hands — off each other and still had to keep it a secret.
“You should’ve,” you breathe out, choking on your words when he starts fucking you with another finger, curling them inside and stretching you to get your hole ready for him.
“Yeah? You would’ve liked it?”
You nod, staring into his eyes with a teasing glare. “Maybe I should’ve sat on top of you,” you stop to swallow, eyes squeezing when he brushes his thumb on your dripping pussy and starts teasing it, “on your lap and tried to — to keep it cool.”
He smirks, tilting his head before he pulls his fingers out. “I think you’re ready for me. You always are, right?”
“Yeah.”
You are, but when his thick cock pushes into you it still takes your breath away. Your fingers and your little purple toy can’t compare to him, they don’t fill you like this, and they don’t feel so good.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb on your waist in circular motions, “taking me all like a good girl.”
You bite back a groan and throw your head back, breathing deeper and longer before you reach his hand and beg him to move.
Haechan sneakers, “only if you keep telling me your little fantasy.”
“I — I don’t think I can,” you confess; he’s barely moving into you, only making circular motions brushing against your sensitive spot, and you already feel weak.
“I’m sure you can,” he smiles, “I didn’t fuck you dumb, yet.”
Your holes clench at his words and you gather your sanity to keep talking. “Sitting on your lap, trying to — trying not to fuck up and down on your dick,” you force out when he keeps his promise and starts moving in and out, gripping your hips tight to angle you just how he knows you like it best.
“You think you can resist it? Stay on my dick without moving?”
“Ye-yes.”
He laughs, throwing his head back as he starts snapping his hips faster. “You’re so confident, baby. I would love to see it all fall down.”
“But if I did, they would find out.”
“Yeah, and think about it, I’d bend you over the table while everyone watches you get fucked dumb. Would you say no?”
You nod, failing to give him a stronger verbal answer.
“Liar,” he spits out, grabbing your thighs to push them up. “Every time I fuck you with Mark in the other room you moan even louder.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh, no?” He tsks, cupping your cheeks. “Honey, you love putting on shows. Or is it just for me?”
“For you,” you confess, voice muffled by the pression he’s applying on your face.
The smirk that curls his lips is smug and cocky. “That little dress was for me?”
You nod and his smile grows bigger before it turns into a pout.
“I didn’t get to take it off.”
“You were supposed to — fuck — to fuck me in it,” you mumble, catching your breath when his hold on you loosens.
“Next time,” he groans, “or maybe tomorrow.”
You don’t reply, only cry out louder when you come unexpectedly, taking you both by surprise.
“I’m — I’m sorry, it — shit — it felt too good, I,” you don’t truly know how to justify yourself because you don’t know why you’re so sensitive tonight.
“Shut up,” Haechan stops you with a kiss, “I know you can’t help it when you’re with me.”
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you retort, rolling your eyes.
“But you love it,” he smirks. “Come here.” He pulls out of you, slapping your thigh as he orders you to sit up. “Want me to fuck you hard?”
You nod, crawling to him at the end of the bed on your own, cupping his face to pull him in a rough kiss as your fingers slip in his hair, and his hands reach your asscheeks, shamelessly parting them before he spanks you hard.
“Can you take it?” He asks against your lips, rubbing his thumb against your jaw before he brushes it on your open mouth, staring into your eyes.
“Ye-yes,” you say but your voice is shaking. When his hand wraps around your neck to tease a kiss that he never gives you, you frown, and he snorts.
“You’re so cute, you know?” His patronizing tone makes more wetness drool down your thighs but you still find the strength to push his buttons.
“And you’re hard, you didn’t come once, yet. Shouldn’t you fix this?”
He doesn’t reply, he pushes you onto the bed, making you face the only mirror in the room, it’s not extremely close to the bed but you’re sure it will do for whatever he has in mind.
“I think you’re so pretty when I touch you, kiss you, tease you,” he whispers against your ear, “fuck you,” he fucks into you without warning, and you gasp, “it’s a shame you don’t get to see it. To watch your pride slip out of you every time that I’m inside you.”
Your head rolls down when he starts fucking into you faster than before but he shakes his head, clicks his tongue, and pushes you up with a tug on the makeshift ponytail. “You’re not running away from me, babe,” he says. “You might not let me into your true self but I have you turned inside out when you’re under me.”
You blink your eyes, staring at him through the mirror, feeling small because you feel like you can’t keep up with his gaze. Haechan has control, he does have you in the palm of your hand, now, only when he fucks you, and you can’t care to mind.
You want him to fuck you until there’s nothing more in your brain. You want him to know all the small things that make you feel good. Because nobody before him even wanted to know them, to own you like this, and you don’t want him to stop.
“Look at you,” he whispers, biting your earlobe, “is it so terrible to not have everything under control?” You feel a hint of bitterness in his voice, almost as if he’s mad at you for not letting go like this under other circumstances. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“With you,” you cry out, shaking a tear away and gritting your teeth when he hits you deeper and you feel your body on fire again.
“Yes, with me,” he says. “You don’t have to think about anything when you’re with me. I’ve got you.”
You almost scream because you hate how much comfort you feel at his words, they don’t sound sexual, not even now that his rutting into you at a fast speed, fucking your ass with so much force that the bed is squeaking and the slaps of your skin against each other fill the room. Even now, something about him makes you feel in the right safe place and you’re not sure this is how you’re supposed to feel while being railed by your friend with benefits.
You shake your head, forcing your eyes open as you stare at him in the mirror. “Harder,” you whisper, sinking your nails in the crumpled sheets under you.
“Harder?” He mocks. “Are you sure?”
You nod, pushing your ass up, trying to provoke him into giving you more.
“If you say so.” His hand moves hesitantly on your neck, he doesn’t apply pressure, he just keeps you in his hold as he fucks into you with rhythmic, deep, and breath-taking thrusts. A low grunt escapes from his lips when your eyes roll back for a moment and you start to be more vocal, mouth staying parted and chest rising swiftly as you gasp for air.
You are a vision. And he could get lost in that.
“You — fuck — feel like heaven, baby,” he groans, “and look so pretty with no thoughts in your brain.” His voice hits right beside your ear and sends shivers down your spine, the eye contact through the reflecting surface makes you melt, tighten the knot in your stomach and almost come on the spot.
Haechan chuckles, kissing your cheeks in a mockingly delicate motion. “Were you about to come again, honey?”
You shake your head, lying blatantly because you know that if you give it to him, he won’t shut up. But he knows you were.
“Yes, you were,” he taunts with a sharp laugh. “What did I say about holding it back?”
“But I — I can’t, fuck,” you cry out. “Too much, can’t take another one.”
“Yes, you can,” he orders. “Come for me, and then I’ll show you, you’ll come again.”
The last thing you want to do is listen to him but he’s a sneaky piece of shit that knows you too well, and when two fingers rub against your clit and two others pass from your neck to your mouth, forcing you to suck them, your orgasm explode before you can even try to fight it.
“I fucking — ugh — hate you,” you cry out, still shaking from the pleasure, writhing under him, shaking your head when he cleans his fingers on your chin.
“The mess on your face is nothing compared to the mess between your legs. You know, right?”
Yes, you do. You can feel your pussy drip an embarrassing amount of cum, and you know how much your hole is clenching around him. But it’s not your fault.
The sounds that come from his mouth are pure condescending mockery as he smirks down at you. “Can’t answer me anymore?”
You’re about to open your mouth but he shuts you up with an open hand on it. “I don’t want to hear you. I don’t need to hear you to know you’re going dumb on my cock.”
You muffle something but it’s in vain, and his eyes glint when you give up in two seconds.
“You’re right,” he groans, “something is different about this place. You never let me have so much — fuck — so much control over you. You never let me fuck you this good, like you deserve.”
You’d like to complain. Because if he thinks that your past fucks weren’t this good, he’s dead wrong. But when your eyes lock, you get he’s still talking about something else. It’s not about the sex or the many orgasms, it’s about you. You didn’t talk back, you didn’t roll your eyes when he called you ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’, and you’re not running away even if he’s all over you. You get lost in his bites and kisses on your shoulders, on his hands on your skin, and his words filling your brain.
“Wouldn’t fuck you in front of the others,” Haechan grunts. He’s picking a brutal pace and you feel like you could break, but moans are still coming out of your mouth, hoarse and needy. “They don’t deserve to see you like this,” he groans, slipping a hand under you, reaching your clit, and making you yelp. “This is only for me. This is mine to see.”
Your eyes roll back. The possessiveness in his voice shouldn’t make you feel things, but it does, it gets your inside to twist and your heart to race and your cunt to clench around nothing even more. You feel like your chest could explode when he keeps repeating that you’re his and his only and you can tease everybody else as long as you want but no one will ever make you feel like he does. His pace on your clit speeds up, while his head falls in the crook of your neck, and then his hips still, the orgasm hits you at the same time and your bodies freeze as the pleasure buzzes through your bones, his hand falls from your mouth and you gasp for air while he collapses on top of you.
You start breathing in synch, and you enjoy the sensation of his chest on your back, but that doesn’t last long. He’d love to stay there some more, but your friends might come back in minutes now, and he truly doesn’t want anyone else to even get a glimpse of you like this. So he rolls to the side, turning his head to stare at you while he dares to caress your back with his hand. You never let him do it, he had tried, he thought aftercare was essential and that after everything he put you through you deserved more than just a simple ‘are you okay?’ followed by your positive answer before you slipped to run back home or if he was lucky only in the bathroom before you came back to sleep next to him, as far as possible.
But this time you don’t glare at him, and you don’t move away, you move closer, not much, but for you is a lot, and you keep your eyes closed while your left hand searches for his body shily, you don’t touch him, it’s just a brush of your fingers against his stomach, but it makes his heart jump in his throat.
“I think…” he whispers, stopping when your eyes flutter open, terrified he ruined something, but you don’t talk, “I think we should shower, so we can be asleep when they come home.���
You smile, stretching and covering your mouth when you yawn. “If you carry me,” you mumble. “I can’t walk.”
He chuckles and then sits up. “It’s my fault so, yeah, I’ll carry you.”
Nothing changes after that small summer trip. You go back and start being stressed once again and the only relief you have is Haechan. Some days are so stressful that you beg for him to come pick you up at work so you can eat something outside and then head back to his apartment to fuck.
Yeah, to fuck.
That is always the original plan, the only thing you need him for. You feel bad for some time treating him like a living dildo, but isn’t it what you two are for each other? You know there’s respect, and care, not love, never love, but other than being friends, when you meet up alone there’s just sex.
That’s what it’s supposed to be.
But then those things turn into… something else. You think it started one night when you came to his place but couldn’t jump on each other because he got a phone call he couldn’t decline, and you had to sit on the couch. You could’ve been a tease and started masturbating in front of him but that thought didn’t even cross your mind. You sat there, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv, hoping to catch something to keep you entertained, and you did. It was one of your favorite movies and when Haechan ended the call and sat next to you, you both had forgotten why you were there.
Just like right now. It’s a Friday night and you came to his place to spend an evening together. No, you didn’t break any rules, it’s just a simple movie night. After you found out you both have an interest in films you couldn’t stop thinking about it, so it was an excuse to watch and discuss some movies together.
“Hi,” Haechan opens the door, and he looks wrecked. You panic seeing him because it looks like he fought with a bear with bare hands, he’s sweating, and his hair is a mess, and your heart clenches in your chest… is he fucking — “I cooked.”
Oh, he cooked.
That made perfect sense, but it doesn’t make sense that you panicked at the idea of him with another girl, almost feeling sick to your stomach and about to throw up. You mentally slap yourself and smile as big as you can before making your way in. Suddenly regretting that you can’t slam him against the couch and ride him until you both pass out.
“Last time chips hurt your stomach, so I made fries, and some small pizzas,” he exclaims, disappearing in the kitchen before showing up again with his hands full. “I hope you like this.” Haechan almost passes out when he sees the smile on your face, it’s so big and he swears he never saw you smile like that, but the moment of happiness doesn’t last because that smile disappears after your thanks.
It’s another mental slap to yourself and your heart for beating so damn hard. It’s just snacks, anybody would have done that, right? Except you know damn well it’s not true. Your ex never cared about the few things your stomach hated and kept you up at night. Sometimes even Johnny forgot you couldn’t eat chips for God knows whatever reason. And it is annoying to fry and turn on the oven when he could’ve just opened a bag and eaten.
Haechan is a good person. You justify. He is. You know it. He’s kind, good with kids, doesn’t know how to cook but he tries (for you), and when you tell him something makes you uncomfortable, he always tries to fix it as soon as he can, he’s perf—
“We should eat before it gets cold, then,” you almost scream, scaring him because you were dead silent in your thoughts for too long.
And Haechan thinks he will never get you. But it’s fine like this. You are to discover, and he likes it. It’s thrilling, and every small step deeper into you feels like the biggest of the rewards. But he wonders when, and if, he will ever reach your core.
For now, it’s fine like this, as you sit on the couch with the food in front of you and the movie you picked starts playing on the screen.
After those movie nights, you should leave. You never set them too late for that reason, so you can drive back home before midnight. It’s easy to do, you’re just a bit tired but your legs are not shaking post-orgasm, your heart is not jumping out of your ribcage and you’re not leaking cum.
It is easy.
Yet, you stop doing it.
“Why don’t you stay?”
You should leave. Just like you did that one time he woke up with you and asked you to stay for breakfast. You were late. And right now, you can’t be late, but tomorrow you need to be home before nine because you have something important to do. It’s an easy lie to tell, he doesn’t know anything about you anyway.
“I don’t know,” you whisper and Haechan looks taken aback. Of course, he is, that’s not a typical response of you. You would’ve screamed something at him, acting like a dog when someone crosses its personal space, barking left and right (not the nicest comparison he had told you — yes, he did — but you couldn’t get mad cause he was right). “I don’t have a toothbrush or my towels.”
You realize that you broke another rule when Haechan stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. That’s the reason why you can’t stay. And the way those words came out of your mouth shows that you’re almost — he learned he has to be careful with you — sad for it.
“I have a spare one,” he says before you can go back to your true self, “it can be yours.”
That toothbrush eventually becomes yours. It sits there, right next to his, and every time you get up in the morning to escape from his bed, you’re reminded of all the lines you’ve crossed. You didn’t bring it from home, he fucking gave a toothbrush to you, and he doesn’t keep it scored somewhere in case you need it, no, it stays right there, always, next to his, as if it belongs there.
You know it doesn’t, it feels weird, romantic, and domestic, and fuck it, you never left any of your belongings in your ex-boyfriend’s apartment. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to take it out and throw it away.
It’s because you might need it.
Yes, you might need it.
That’s what you tell yourself.
Things start going downhill when you break rule number 3.
Technically you didn’t break it.
You didn’t exactly invite him over.
A phone call at midnight while drunk-you slurred out incomprehensible words and sobbed like a child to whom somebody just stole their favourite teddy bear can’t be considered an invite, right? In your defense, when he hung off the call, making you sob even harder cause you thought you fucked it up another time, you weren’t expecting the bell to ring ten minutes later. And when you dragged your body to the door, you didn’t expect to find him standing there, his nightwear only covered with a jacket, his hair a mess, and his breath short, a clear sign he rushed to your place.
“Are you okay?” Haechan asks worriedly, shaking your shoulders to make sure you’re alive and not a creation of his imagination.
If you were your usual you, you would’ve slapped him. Wasn’t it clear that you are not fine? But you’re not there tonight, so you say something else.
“I’m sorry,” you sob, tears streaming down your face as you feel guiltier than ever, “I didn’t know who to call.”
If you were your usual you, you would’ve been able to see the glint that crossed Haechan’s eyes at your words, probably even to hear his heart skip a beat and his hands shake for a brief moment, but again, you are not there tonight.
“What happened?” He asks, trying to appear calm but he’s not calm at all. You are vulnerable, you. And out of all the people to be vulnerable with, you chose him.
“I’m an asshole,” you mumble, letting your body fall into his arms, face hiding in the crook of his neck while you let go to a nervous cry.
“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here now. Should we sit?”
You nod, but you’re not really giving orders to your body when he drags you to the couch and lets you cuddle up next to him, shushing you and rubbing circles on your back.
“I never do anything right,” you mutter, holding yourself closer to him, hoping you’ll disappear into him and won’t have to face another day.
“I don’t think so.”
“But you don’t know me, you… if I only… if you only knew all my flaws you would run away, even if between us was just sex.”
Haechan’s face twists in pain as he looks down at you, only seeing your hair because your face is still pressed against his chest. “Cause it’s not?”
“We’re friends, but you…” your words die in your mouth, trying to give an order to all the things that are running in your head. “I try to fix things and then they go wrong, and how do I stop being a bad person? How do I stop hurting everybody?”
“Who did you hurt?”
“I mean… I am hurt, but I… is he manipulating, or am I truly a bitch?”
Haechan can’t follow you, he wants to be a support, but you aren’t giving him clues about anything that is going on and he’s terrified of crossing boundaries, especially now that he has you so close and honest in his arms. This feels more intimate than all the sex you shared, and it’s scarier.
“Who are you talking about?” He dares to ask, losing the hold on you when you sit up, moving away from his body, not much, your legs are still pressed together, and you search for his hand for comfort.
“My ex.”
“Your ex?”
You nod, biting your lips just to prevent another terrible sound to roll out. “I started thinking… about us and why we didn’t work out, and… there were so many things that didn’t sit right. I don’t think I was crazy over him, but I… I’ve always respected him. He surely wasn’t the love of my life but fuck,” at that you break down again, turning your face to the side because even if you’re in the middle of a breakdown you can’t be so vulnerable to Haechan’s eyes. “We’ve been together for a year and a half and only now, because I asked for more closure, he told me he used me just for sex. And as the dumbass pathetic mess I am, I… we… we used to fuck.”
Haechan’s jaw tenses as he listens to you, it’s probably not his place to syndicate since you two are using each other for the same reason, but it’s mutual and consensual. He coughs and then speaks when you don’t explain more. “After?”
“What?”
“You went back to him after the breakup… to fuck?”
“Yes,” you cry out, voice coming out in a yelp. And you know you look like a mess, tears and snot staining your face, but you can’t control your emotions anymore. You feel stupid. Every time you let your sentiments have the best, life proves you shouldn’t do it.
Haechan sighs, taking you back in his hold, letting you go off in his embrace. He doesn’t talk, not sure of what to say, and let silence pass by, lulling you, and drawing circles in your hair. Only when you’ve calmed down a bit he talks. “Why are you the bad person in this?”
“Cause he told me I’m insufferable. He said he loved me at first but… every day with me was ‘killing him’ or whatever. Because I… I like things done a certain way, I like order, I… I can’t let my life go into shambles, Hyuck. I’ve lived the worst days of my life because I had lost control, I feared I wasn’t going to make it out alive only because I wasn’t mentally there anymore, because I wasn’t in control. I let people walk over me and put myself last. I can’t go back there, I can’t.”
“You’re not insufferable for being honest. You’re sincere about what you feel, not the type of person that hides behind honesty to make fun of others or to push them out of their comfort zone. I mean, surely sometimes it’s a lot when you want to have so much control over things, and how badly you react at times when a minor thing doesn’t go as planned. But I think that there are some flaws the people that love us should learn and comprehend, and either decide it’s not a weight for them or be frank and break up. Not everyone can carry the baggage that we bring with us, and that’s fine.”
You sniffle, knowing he’s right, but also feeling that nobody seems to be able, or willing to even try, to carry the baggage you carry with you.
“Would you date me?” That was the alcohol talking, and the heartbreak, and Haechan knows it. But he doesn’t know how drunk and heartbroken you are. He doesn’t know if this is a tricky question, if you would’ve remembered it the next morning and instead of taking it as a friend supporting you, it would’ve caused you two to drift apart. He doesn’t want to lose you, so he circles around it the best he can.
“Your value is not in the people who would date you or not, not even in those who did, like your ex.”
“Yes but, isn’t this the same? I am using you for sex, I’m doing the same.”
“It’s not the same. We want this, and we’re friends. I’m here, supporting you. I don’t think he supported you that much while technically you were dating, am I wrong?”
“No, you’re right. I should’ve seen the signs.”
“We’re all good once things are done, but we can’t blame ourselves from the past. You were in love, it doesn’t matter that you weren’t madly in love, you never disrespected him. While he made you believe he loved you, and in reality, he stopped feeling that and still used you. So, who’s the asshole here?”
“Him,” you whisper with a shaky voice.
“Good, that’s my good girl,” he praises, caressing your cheeks and wiping the tears away with his thumb. “See, you can see things clearly after the storm.”
You hum, a small smile plastering on your face before you cuddle closer to him. You take a deep breath, inhaling his perfume and you feel at peace. “You know I like you, right? Like, I respect you and care for you.”
Haechan’s smile goes from ear to ear, deep down he does, but he would’ve never expected you to say it out loud. “I know, even if you run away from my bed as if I bite you.”
You laugh, hiding your face against his chest and your fingers tighten around his shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, I’m used to an empty bed anyway, so it’s not much of a difference when I wake up and don’t find you there.”
Your head rolls up, chin pressing between his sternum as your eyes meet his. “Mind not waking up to an empty bed tomorrow?”
“Mh?”
“Can you please stay the night?” You ask shily, voice quivering. “I know I’m selfish, but I need someone with me.”
Haechan smiles, “It’s not selfish, that’s what friends do.”
That’s what friends do.
Cleaning your smudged makeup and tears.
Giving you water and an aspirin.
Helping you clean your body and even apply moisturizer.
Taking care of your hair.
Putting you in clean nightwear.
Whispering a song to your ear to make you fall asleep.
Holding you close the entire night, so you don’t have nightmares.
Yeah, that’s what friends do.
You know Haechan has a… sparkling personality. He’s chatty, outgoing, and friendly with everyone. He’s not so different from Johnny, so you two get along well because you grew up with your best friend starting conversations even with walls, it doesn’t annoy you when Haechan does the same.
Well, it didn’t annoy you.
Other than that, Haechan has this tendency of flirting with pretty much everyone — of age, and that doesn’t give signs of discomfort — not so different than you, so you couldn’t get mad at him for that, right? Those flirty remarks are jokes, silly things that fit into the moment and that he says just for funny purposes, right?
You aren’t so sure about it. And you aren’t even sure why you care so much. That sensation at the pit of your stomach every time he talks with someone else, touches them, or winks and smirks, is not normal. You know he’s going to take you home and fuck you all night, giving you exactly what you ask for, so why do you feel like this?
“This place is dope.” Mark’s voice rings loudly in your ear, and his body touches yours as he messily sits next to you on the bench, dragging you out of the intense staring competition you were having with yourself, Haechan and his new friend’s body.
“Yeah, Johnny always finds the best places,” you force out, gripping the empty glass in your hands tighter and obligating yourself to look around and not go back to Haechan and that fake blonde girl that is all over him.
“Seems like someone’s having fun,” Mark laughs, looking in front of you and you curse mentally because you know who he’s referring to, and right now you wish Haechan wasn’t having the time of his life. “Johnny made a match for himself and for Hyuck too, the only one missing is you.”
You chuckle, looking at the floor, sighing deeply before you decide that it’s better to divert the conversation from you. “Where’s Minjeong?”
“Oh, she’s at home, actually I’ll leave in a few minutes cause I have to go to her place,” he says with a smile on his face and you think it’s cute how he reacts when she’s brought up. He’s so madly in love and she is too, when they come along they make you wish you had what they had, for two seconds, just two. “Also doing Channie a favour, you know,” he winks and then chuckles, but you don’t find the implications funny, and your stomach twitches in discomfort.
Did Haechan ask him to leave the house empty or is he just being playful? And what if you won’t be the one Haechan takes home?
“I don’t think he’s going home with her,” you say, barely hiding the bitter tone. It’s not an opinion, you’re manifesting because you can’t bear that thought, but Mark is not on your track and he snickers again.
“Think they’ll end up doing it in the bathroom or the car?”
You force out a laugh while replying, “God, I hope not.” But you’re dying inside and you wish Mark would leave so you can run outside, slap yourself, go back inside and find somebody else to fuck that night and put your dumb brain — or heart, but you’re not ready to accept that just yet — to sleep.
“I think he will last until home, he’s not a fan of doing it in unpractical places, dirty or too risky.”
“Is the car risky?”
“Yes,” he replies as if he’s shocked by your underestimation. “People know what goes on even if they can’t see, and then it moves and fogs and it’s… embarrassing. Haechan has never been that attracted to somebody to the point of fucking in a car, he’d rather go home with his balls blue.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Too much information,” you joke, shrugging off how your body heated up, and Mark apologies through laughter before standing up.
“Sorry again. Man, I’m used to making fun of him with him and got carried away.”
“It’s fine, I’m a grown woman, sex doesn’t traumatize me,” you reassure but your dumb heart is beating weirdly faster in your chest, and the awareness that Haechan never done it with anybody else, that he also broke one of his unspoken rules for you, is driving you insane.
Now you’d like to get up and drag him by the hair and ask him if he would fuck her in a car but you don’t, you can’t. So you say your goodbyes to Mark and then stand up to walk to the bar, some alcohol will do.
“Hey, pretty,” a man’s voice speaks from the side; barely five minutes of peace and you are already crowded with unwanted attention.
“Hi,” you reply back, trying to bite back the bitterness of your voice, whoever that man is, he isn’t the man you want to reach your side.
“All alone here?”
You roll your eyes at his lame pick-up words and at the hint of the smirk you can hear in his voice. “I’m with friends, just need to cool down for a bit.”
“Oh, all dating and all over each other while they forget about you,” he jokes and only then you turn around. Partially true, but being left alone by your friends had never been a problem, you always found someone that wanted to dance with you, even right now you have this man — a handsome man, with black hair, tanned skin, and a somehow not creepy smile — hitting on you but he isn’t the man you want.
“I’m not actually,” you lie, you don’t even know why. You could’ve said yes, flirted with him a bit more, ground against each other for a while before going home, to his place, wait, to his place? What if he was a murderer? And with what car? You should’ve called a Uber, or worst, slept over. But soon you realize his bed isn’t the bed you want to fall asleep into after some draining orgasms. The idea of even being at his place makes your skin crawl and you push down a groan when two brown eyes, auburn hair and bronze skin fill your thoughts instead.
“Then why are you alone? You’re too pretty to be wasted here, sitting all by yourself. I could hear your thoughts from there,” he says, pointing at where he was sitting before.
Your face twitches in irritation, you don’t like being called pretty, not with that tone at least, and not by men that aren’t Hae— anyway, you don’t like it. It feels like mockery and when it comes from men’s lips it feels like they’re trying to box you up there, as if being pretty is all you’re worth but at the same time, they can’t compliment you with words like ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’ because then they would boost your ego too much and they cannot compete with confident women.
“And what were my thoughts, Harry Potter?” You joke, trying to hide the bitter tone with a forced small smile.
He snorts, shaking his head, and shifting closer to you. Your first reaction is to move away but another body on the other side stops you from going far.
“I don’t recall Harry Potter being able to mind read,” he whispers, and you feel his breath collide against your neck, and his fingers graze your thigh. “Anyway, I could tell you were begging for attention.”
You gulp. You don’t like this anymore, you didn’t like this in the first place, to be honest. But him being all over your personal space without your consent is making you uncomfortable and for some reason, you can’t react like usual. Maybe it’s because he’s not doing anything, or well, not something so evident that wouldn’t make the whole club call you a crazy attention whore for accusing an innocent man.
So, you sit quietly; if you don’t talk back, he’ll get tired and will leave, that’s what you pray for. You just have to wait for a miracle.
And just when you’re about to lose all hope, and the man moves even closer to you, a fit of cough brings you back to earth.
“Honey,” Haechan calls, “sorry, the line at the bathroom was endless. Should we go?”
It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you, but once your brain registers his voice, you let go of a breath of relief, and when you turn around you meet the pissed-off expression of the man next to you.
“Who’s this?”
“Her boyfriend,” Haechan talks before you can even think of an answer, too dumb you were already thinking of a short way to explain what was going on between you. “Needed something, sir?”
Haechan is clearly mocking him, staring at the stranger with a challenging glare and moving closer to you, almost to shield you from him.
“Nothing, have a great night,” the man mutters angrily before walking away.
“You too!” Haechan screams and then turns to you. “Are you alright? It seemed like he was crossing some lines.”
You’re still shaken, and only mumble some hums as a reply. It’s not really because of that man but mostly because you weren’t expecting this from Haechan. Or worse, you weren’t expecting your heart to react when he called himself your boyfriend.
“I’m fine,” you whisper before briefly looking around, this is getting too much. You don’t give him time to check another time that you’re up and walking speedily to grab your jacket and storm outside. Haechan doesn’t get it, for the nth time he can’t predict anything of you, and he feels guilty because maybe he read you wrong, maybe you were willingly flirting with that man and he fucked up everything. But he still runs after you, and that’s, one, not what you expected, and two, not what you needed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were flirting back with him,” he apologizes, running after you, grabbing your wrist, and forcing you to turn around.
You sniffle, looking at the ground because this is so pathetic and it’s already the second time he catches you crying and you can’t bear how vulnerable you have shown yourself to him — yes, that is too many times for you. Bottling up feelings and emotions is your top skill after programming everything like a mastermind to make sure everything would flow perfectly and everyone would have a very specific image of you, so why the hell are you a mess every time he comes around?
“I can go talk to him and explain it to him —”
“No,” you stop him. “I… I’m a bit overwhelmed because I… I wasted a night out, I could’ve stayed at home and written a little or gone on with my favourite series, but you know…”
“Fleabag?” He taunts, tilting his head as he tries to meet your eyes.
“Yeah,” you whisper, running a hand on your neck.
“You already know it by heart, it would be your tenth rewatch,” he jokes but when you look at him with your lips awkwardly pressed in a thin line, his eyes go wide. “Oh God, you started it again?”
“I’m sorry,” you cry out, “it’s my comfort show, and then the other day I fucked up again, I needed to see myself being a total failure in someone else and Fleabag is always there for me.”
Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, still staring at you with an amused expression. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Need a hot priest too?”
That should make you laugh — oh, how much you wanted that — but it only makes you let out a chocked sob because fuck, he surely doesn’t carry a rosary and the bible is not his favourite book, he can’t say mass, but you feel like Haechan is your hot priest. He’s fucking you up in ways nobody else ever did. Fleabag at least had God and morals to come between them but you, what do you have? Nothing.
“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling you in a hug, “no hot priests, no judging for your fixations. How about you tell me what is going on?”
“No,” you reply, hiding in his hold. It should be easy, embarrassing but easy, to slur out that you’re a mess because you feared he wasn’t going to pay you a bit of attention, surely you should’ve turned it into a confession of how dick-addicted you were and how badly you needed him — vulgarly, his cock — after an entire week of absence, but it’s not easy to be your usual — or past — self when you feel like you are missing him more than you are missing what he knows how to use best. “You should go inside, she’s waiting for you.” So you place the weight on him, hoping he won’t take you home because you can’t do another night like when you called him in the middle of desperation.
You don’t catch his expression, a held-back smirk mixed with eyes full of surprise, but that would be the look on his face that you’d see if you’d stopped staring at the cobblestones on the sidewalk.
“Are you… jealous?”
Your head is not facing the ground anymore, with a snap so fast you know it’s a miracle you didn’t break your neck, your eyes lock with Haechan’s. And then you laugh, hysterically. It’s a fake laugh and he gets it, he can see you panic, he saw it in your eyes that brief moment they intertwined, and he knows.
You are jealous.
And you know he knows it, so you have to fix this mess.
“Fine, I wanted to fuck you tonight, it’s been a week and I’m kinda needy, and seeing you with her got me mad, but not jealous. Do you know when you’re horny, you think you’re close to getting some relief and then something happens and what you have in mind doesn’t happen anymore?” You ask, and you see in his face that he’s barely following the words you’re spitting out before you can betray yourself. “But it’s fine, my toys are still working, so I can use them instead.”
“Are you walking home?”
Oh, so he doesn’t care about anything you said? He didn’t believe it, right? Fuck, now he’ll think you love him.
“Yes.”
Haechan shakes his head, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the opposite side. “Come on, don’t make me drag you.”
“I’m not going back inside,” you say, trying to pull away and he stops, sighing.
“Honey, I’m taking you home.”
Oh.
Oh.
You’d fight if you weren’t a mess, you surely would do it and tell him it’s not necessary, but you need a ride back home so that’s the only reason you say yes. You don’t hope you will break rule number three again and he will fuck away this sadness you’re carrying around. Why are you even sad? He’s there, right at your side, driving you home after you cried like a child in the middle of the street, comparing yourself to a fucking tv series character, an insane character, by the way.
“Do you think I talk to myself?”
“What?” He almost swerves when you talk after five minutes of straight silence.
“Like Fleabag, you know. The thing she does when she talks to us?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never seen you turn around mid-conversation to stare at a spot behind you or to your side to talk to a camera, so I guess no.”
You sit in silence, blankly staring at the street in front of you. Oh, you do. Not the camera, not really, but you are slowly transcending into the madness of that old cat lady that Johnny always talked about.
“I’m insane,” you cry out.
Haechan laughs, turning to stare at you for a split second, and smiling again at your devasted face. “I just think you’re drunk.”
“I didn’t drink,” you huff, throwing your head back against the seat and closing your eyes while you damn every decision that led you there. “Got two small glasses of something that wasn’t even worth it while I watched you grind on her all night.”
Shit.
Fuck.
“She was hot.”
Think fast. Think fast. Think fast.
“You should’ve gone home with her. Can we go back so I will go home with her?”
“I take it back, you are insane, not drunk,” he giggles, caressing your thigh when the car stops at a traffic light.
You groan. Why is he so unfazed by your weird tactics? Why does he laugh so tenderly even when he’s teasing you? Why does it feel like he holds so much love in his voice, words, and touches? “I’m sorry, it was a shitty night and I’m… overstimulated. Not sexually, but mentally. Everything feels doubled.”
“That’s why I’m taking you home.”
Your brain has many things to say but you keep your mouth shut, you already messed up enough tonight and you’re not sure you can live tomorrow with the consequences of these minor errors already, so adding more to the list wouldn’t be a wise thing.
When you arrive home you don’t move. You should jump off the car to slump in your bed not even changing yourself — once again going against one of the thousands of rules you have in order to survive in the insanity of your sanity. But you don’t want to leave his side. You like being around Haechan, even when you don’t talk, even right now that you feel on the verge of tears again and you can’t blame your hormones, while the music plays from the radio.
And Haechan gets it. Your usual self? Out of the car in a second; the first times you two hung out you barely gave him time to stop before you were under the porch of the complex you lived in. He once again has no idea what’s going on inside you, but he knows he can’t leave you alone. He doesn’t care if you use toys, but for how shaken you look, he knows the only thing you’ll pick up will be the phone to call your ex, and he doesn’t want that. You don’t deserve to be hurt, and your ex doesn’t even deserve to hear your voice.
“Wanna come to my place?” He asks, breaking the silence, staring at you while you’re lost with the gaze in front of you on the quite empty road of your house. “You have everything there anyway.”
You have everything there anyway.
His toothbrush that became yours.
His white t-shirt that became yours.
A new set of towels he had bought just for you.
His favourite mug that became yours.
A warm bed. A pillow with a beating heart. And probably something else you’re not ready to face yet.
“Yeah, let’s go home.”
Haechan shouldn’t smile this big when those words leave your lips and you slump in your seat letting go of the tension, but he does. He knows you’re drunk, he knows you’ll go back to being your distant self in the morning, and probably he won’t even find you there when he wakes up, but he likes this new side of you so he wants to enjoy it while it lasts.
Home.
He loves the way it rolls from your lips and how that house feels like home when you’re inside.
Apparently, your new plan is to give Haechan a heart attack, cause when he wakes up in the morning and, not only still finds you there, but finds you cuddled up on top of him, he feels like dying. He is not even sure you are you, maybe he’s making you up and all of this is a dream.
Now that you are awake you feel the same. You are in his bed, wearing his shirt and pants, it’s nine in the morning, your clothes are not scattered on the floor and the sheets aren’t a mess. Why? You know why. Unfortunately, you weren’t drunk enough the night before to forget how embarrassing it had been, but you wish you could find another reason.
“Oh, hi,” he cheers when you enter the kitchen after ten minutes of contemplating whether running away now was a good idea or if the more you acted weird, the worst it got. “Headache?”
“No, luckily no,” you reply, running a hand on your face and sitting on a chair. “Why are you cooking, trying to blow us up?”
“Oh, you’re back, I was starting to worry,” he laughs at your snarky remark, shaking his head.
You don’t reply, only drop on your arms, resting your head on them against the table as you watch him move around. He might not be a good chef, but you love the way he moves, it’s like his body always makes sure to remind you of all the years he spent doing ballet, and even if he hates it now, you’re glad he did it.
He’s hot, even in the morning, even with his eyes still sleepy and hair a mess. But you feel like something of the crazy, pungent, chemistry that used to buzz between you stopped doing so. Or maybe this is a friend moment without the benefits? You can’t tell, and you just want to get back on the benefits again because the whole friends’ thing is turning romantic and you don’t like it.
So, your feet move quickly, making you reach him in a second and wrap your arms around his body.
“What are you—”
“Shh,” you shush him, moving your hands lower on his abdomen.
“Oh, sure, of course, you weren’t just hugging me, fuck,” he curses when you tease his inner thighs, never touching his sensitive part. There is a hint of sadness in his words but you pretend you don’t get it.
“Want you, Hyuckie,” you pout against his ear, and you can feel him shiver in your hold.
“Not now,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand to move it away.
“Then when?” You ask, slipping your hand into the rubber band after you slapped his away. “You never fucked me in the morning, you know?”
Haechan gulps and turns off the stove, hands losing their grip on everything they touch while your hands kept teasing him more and more.
“When we had all, mhh, day to ourselves,” he murmurs, squeezing his eyes as he tries to don’t give in to you.
“Fucked me in the evening, at night, and in the afternoon.”
“You slept till noon of course I couldn’t fuck you in your sleep.”
“Well, couldn’t or wouldn’t, you still didn’t, and I need you to do it now.”
Haechan’s breath falters when your fingers wrap around his dick and start moving to get him hard, head reclined low as he tries to hold in the moans you’re dragging out of him.
“Can you get hard for me?” You whisper teasingly and Haechan groans, glaring at you.
“Now you think I can’t get hard?”
You chuckle at his voice and also because you can feel his cock hardening in your hand with each stroke on it.
“Good,” you hum, starting to kiss his neck and when his head rolls back and he searches for your lips on his, you pull away.
“Oh, cool, went back to phase one?” He says and you can hear the bit of anger in his voice even if he’s trying to hide it.
You don’t know what to reply, you can turn it into something sexual, so he won’t get mad and keep this thing going. You don’t even know why you pulled away. Well, yes, you do, but why are you so afraid all of a sudden?
“Fuck me first and then maybe later you’ll get a kiss.” This will do, coming out sultrily it only sounds like dirty talk and hides your insecurities. “You left me hanging for too long to get what you want so easily.”
And Haechan falls for it, groaning again and leaning back on your shoulder while his eyes are shut and from his lips start to come out more moans.
“Fuck, you’re so good,” he whimpers, fucking back into your hands.
You smirk, finding yourself staring at his blissed face a bit too long, but he looks just so beautiful like this, with his long lashes resting on his full soft cheeks, and his plump lips parted to let out soft, raspy whimpers.
“Wanna come?”
“In — fuck — in your mouth, please. Use your mouth.”
Your hands leave his dick, and you take two steps back.
“Turn around and take your pants off,” you order and stare at him following your instructions in the blink of an eye. When he’s done, you get on your knees and don’t waste time taking his hard cock in your mouth.
“Shit,” Haechan groans, throwing his head back and wrapping his hands in your hair, he doesn’t force your face down, leaving total control in your hands, he simply likes to hold on to you somehow.
You go for a steady rhythm, not fast but not slow to tease him and waste more time. You’re dripping and you need him inside you soon. And for your luck, it doesn’t take him long to come. After all, you know him and what drives him crazy. So one of your hands fondles his balls while the other wraps around his base, and start working on him while your tongue and cheeks focus on his tip. You also know that he loves hearing you moan around him, and watching your eyelid flatter as you stare up at him, and he never told you but when tears start spilling out of the corner of your eyes, his cock throbs harder.
“Mhh, fuck, fuck,” he rasps out, followed by chants of your name as his knees wobble and his hips buck up while he comes in your mouth. His eyes roll back when you pull away with a pop sound and then swallow everything without breaking eye contact. “You drive me insane,” he mutters, running his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply.
“Fuck me,” you urge, standing up again, his words flying over your head. “Please.”
Haechan nods, shaking his head to try to shake the post-orgasm haze out of his mind. “Come here,” he hums, pulling you closer, moving his hands on your body to undress you of the pants and underwear before lifting you on the countertop.
But that’s not what you want.
“No,” you huff, squirming in his hold. “From behind, please.”
That’s not what Haechan wants, when you fuck in that position is because you want it particularly hard and that’s not what he wants to give to you, not now. He’s still trapped in that sense of what was different from the night before and he’s not ready to bear with your shift to your old self again. But when he looks into your eyes, he realizes that spell is already far gone, no more tenderness or heartfelt conversation, just sex and greed.
But you are still there, and it never happened before, and this is better than nothing, so he gives you what you want.
“Bend over,” he says, helping you off the kitchen and waiting for you to get in position. He would find the view hot, incredibly hot, your ass pushing back up into him, your wet folds pressing against the tip of his cock, your hips swinging in desperation, and it is hot, but he can’t enjoy it fully; if it only wasn’t for that small twinge of pain in his heart.
“Please, fuck me,” you beg again when he doesn’t push in right away, too lost at staring blankly at your back.
“Are you in a rush? Somewhere to be better than here?” He bites back, it’s a bitter tease, not a sensual one, and his voice trembles, and so do his hands on your hips.
“I need you, please,” you grunt, throwing your head down, “please.”
Haechan swallows the gulp in his throat and pushes into you. He’s always delicate when he thrusts in the first time, he knows you’re wet and ready to take him but he’s always careful and you wish you didn’t find it so attractive, but you do. Nobody ever cared for you that much during sex, well, nobody ever cares for you that much in general.
And when he starts moving in and out of you, your heart loses another beat. He fills you up so nicely, you hate to compliment every part of him but fuck, he’s perfect, he fits perfectly and you feel him everywhere, it’s like he was made just for you.
“Fuck,” he groans when you clench down on him. “Want it harder, babe?”
“Yes, please.”
His hips start snapping against you in a fast rhythm, causing your bones to hit the hard surface of the countertop, but you don’t care, you even find the slight pain more exciting.
Haechan’s groans fill your ears, as the grip of his hands on you gets incredibly tighter. It’s rough like you asked but not how you’re used to. You don’t dare to turn your neck to get a peek at him but you know his brows are knitted and his eyes are dark. This doesn’t feel like fun like your usual hard fucks, it’s like a sense of sadness and bitterness is running between you and it makes your heart sting.
“Haechan,” you call out his name, and only for a second his grip softens, but you don’t continue, you don’t even know what you want, or if you want something.
“What?” He growls in response, hips slamming harshly against your ass. “Is this still not enough? Am I still not enough? Will I ever be enough for you?”
Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel a tear streak down your eyes and you shake your head swiftly, trying to hold onto something. “No, it is,” you breathe out. “You are, fuck, you are enough,” you cry, hissing when he slaps your ass.
“Yeah? Then what do you want? What do I have to do to make you happy?”
“Kiss me,” you mumble, pushing your head back, trying to reach for his lips. “Ple-please, want you — umh — you all over me.”
And when he leans in, kissing you with eagerness, it’s like the gloomy cloud that was shadowing over you dissolves in the air, his grip turns delicate, and his face relaxes, while his hips slow down until they come to a stop. Haechan doesn’t pull away and you don’t care you’re almost struggling for air, feeling breathless, gasping against his lips makes you feel alive more than ever.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a gasp. He stares at your face for a moment, watching a tear roll down your cheeks, and he’s tempted to wipe it away with a gentle touch of his fingers, but he doesn’t give in to temptation. If you weren’t in yourself the night before, he’s not in himself right now, and he feels that he might want to see you cry, cry for him.
Another guttural sound rolls from his lips when he drifts his gaze away and pushes you flat on the countertop with force, picking up the same rhythm as before, snapping against you so fast that your heart starts racing faster in your chest that’s raising up and down in a frenetic rhythm.
“Too — too much,” you whimper, letting your shoulder relax when you fear you won’t be able to keep your body up much more.
Haechan snickers, moving a hand down to knead the flesh of your ass harshly as he leans closer to you. “Really? Thought you asked me to fuck you like this.”
You nod weakly, muscles of your neck sore, and you close your eyes because you feel more tears threatening to spill out, it’s a mix of physical pleasure and mental — emotional — pain you can’t deal with.
“I would’ve fucked you differently,” he almost growls next to your ears, and you know he’s mad. “Nice and slow, probably would’ve even eaten you out but you asked for this and I’m giving you this,” his voice almost breaks and his hips falter, his heart is beating so loud in his ribcage you can feel it against your back. “Want me to stop?” And here he is, as always, no matter the pain you put him through by playing a game of hide and seek inside your true self where he can’t grasp anything real, his voice still turns soft, weak, almost shy, as he makes sure this truly is not getting too much for you. Because you hit left and right with your sword and your blinded eyes but he won’t ever hurt you even if he’s clearly the one bleeding.
“No,” you sniffle, opening your eyes to try to glimpse at his, but the position doesn’t offer you a great view. “Want you, please. I — I need you, Hyuck, so much.”
He nods quickly and then starts thrusting into you, this time he won’t stop until you come, but he pushes your body up against his because he needs you. He needs your scent to be all over his skin, he needs to remind himself you’re not a dream even if you continuously slip from his fingers, he needs to remind you and himself that he’s the only one that has you like this. He is the best you ever had and that’s a little consolation.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he whimpers, forehead frowning while sweat starts pearling his skin as he looks at your ass bouncing on him. “Gonna come?”
“Ye-yes, please,” you beg, and you don’t even know why. You don’t have to ask for his permission to come but it’s like you want him to end this moment.
“Hold on just a bit more, I’m close,” he replies, “want to come with you.”
You nod mindlessly, letting out louder and whinier moans while your hands desperately search for some kind of contact and your legs shake as your orgasm builds up with more violence inside you.
“Be a good girl and come with me,” he orders and you feel one of his hands reach in front of your body until it finds your clit. He groans loudly when your pussy clenches hard around him and your body tenses up while your orgasm washes over, leaving you with your mouth parted but too breathless to let out sounds. Haechan’s not silent, he curses your name and some swear words while his hips keep ramming into you as he pumps his cum in and out of your hole.
“Shit,” he comments, pulling out of you sooner than you wish he would, leaving you empty and cold.
You think he’s behind you, but when you turn around struggling, you see he’s not in the kitchen anymore and you collapse on the floor, legs too weak and trembling to hold you and your heavy heart up.
You’re not sure how many minutes pass while you sit naked on the floor of his kitchen with your hands in your hair wondering where did you go wrong. You just know it feels like an eternity and when you hear footsteps approach, you quickly jump on your feet to cover up and don’t let him find you like that.
Once you pulled back up your clothes, and he’s back in the room, you don’t know what to say, and you don’t even feel like staring at him.
“You can…” he starts but then stops and when your eyes lift from the ground, you see he’s turned around, turning on the stoves again.
“I can?”
“Nothing,” he mutters. “You know where everything in this house is. Do whatever you want.”
“Are you — are you mad?” You chuckle nervously, shaky fingers fixing your hair behind your ears.
He shrugs, shaking his head, “I’m not, I just know you won’t do what I propose, so if you want to eat, take a shower and grab some new clothes, do it. But if you want to leave, it’s fine, too.”
You bite your lips; you know your typical answer would be easy: leave. But right now, it feels like the wrong one. You can’t bet on it, but Haechan seems sad, even angry, and the cold wall between you and his back is making you feel guilty for something you don’t even know. You just proposed to fuck, it was normal in your relationship, so why was he mad and why were you sad? What happened in that fragment when your bodies were tangled in a mess bigger than what it looked like?
“I’ll stay for a bit…” you whisper and when he turns around with wide eyes you add, “if it’s fine for you.”
“Yeah, I told you, everything you decide it’s fine for me. Want breakfast?”
“Yeah,” you say.
“And maybe new clothes?” He smiles, tilting his head to the side, warm dispersing on his face again.
“Your closet?”
“My closet.”
The names you start slurring in bed don’t belong to Haechan. Honestly, you haven’t seen Haechan in over two weeks now. That morning you needed him to prove you something, only to be proven the complete opposite. Things with him weren’t going where you planned them to go in the first place.
And the best solution would be to talk about it, set some boundaries again, or put an end to things like adults, but, even if the years pass by, you feel like you only keep getting older but not wiser.
You think you are stupid and childish, and you hate yourself.
But you still don’t pick the best solutions. Actually, you don’t pick solutions at all, you just fuck things up because you’re not used to them going right.
You ghosted him. Left his place after breakfast with a promise to text him in the week just to never pick up the phone to go to his contact again. You even have to avoid Johnny and your friend’s nights out because you can’t face him.
You feel like you cheated on him. No, there wasn’t written or slurred speech anywhere that you two were exclusive but you two were exclusive. Haechan never fucked someone else behind your back, and he also most of the times implied he didn’t because, since you two did it raw, he wanted to make sure he was only active with you.
And you… you crossed a line you shouldn’t have crossed.
You went back to your ex and met up with two people you met at a club, when, too heartbroken, you needed someone to fill the void inside of you, only for things to get worst and leave you heartbroken, full of guilt and unsatisfied.
You should pick up your phone, call him over and explain, you’re still in time to fix this in a way he won’t hate you forever, but you don’t.
You go to work, come back home, slump on the couch with food and movies, or stay out running until you can barely feel your legs, stand under the shower as if the bill won’t crash you at the end of the month and then go to sleep, or try to, while you fight with your brain and heart and the emotions none of the three of you knows how to cope with, just to do it all over again the next day.
It’s an endless routine where you try to push him out, but it doesn’t seem to work.
It had always been easy to delete people from your life like this. One cut, one push out of your protected zone, and they were long forgotten.
So why is it so hard with him?
But you still don’t pick up that damn phone, not even when a month passes by and Haechan reaches for you, apologizing.
[Monday]
pathetic loser
hey, it’s been a while i just wanted to check if everything’s alright
[Wednesday]
pathetic loser
will you be there at johnny’s dinner at his place?
maybe we can talk there?
[Friday]
pathetic loser
i didn’t ask johnny but i guess you won’t be there so i just hope you’re okay
You don’t reply, only stare at those texts trying to force yourself to grab the phone and call him because he deserves that more than a dry reply in a text. But you don’t know what to say, and you’d probably hope he won’t answer the call, so you’ll have an excuse to say you’ve tried but he didn’t reply. And when you try to come up with something that can explain to him this whole situation and at the same time don’t tear you apart, another week passes by.
[Thursday]
pathetic loser
i won’t bother you again i promise
i just wanted to apologize if i did something that made you uncomfortable that night/morning
i don’t know what it is but it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, after all you don’t owe me anything
it was just sex anyway so it’s fine
i will stop hanging around with johnny when i know he plans with all of us so you don’t have to avoid him too
he misses you, please don’t let some sex come between your friendship
anyway back to us, i know i sound like a loser but i had fun and i hope you don’t regret this totally, sorry if i messed something up i didn’t do it on purpose
i’ve written too much so yeah hope you’re fine, have a great life (you can block me if you want to, if you didn’t already)
You don’t reply even this time, but you cry and sob into your pillow, covered by your sheets as the phone glows in the dark. And you cry and cry until you feel like you can’t breathe and the weight on your chest gets heavier and pushes you down into your misery.
It was supposed to be just silly, superficial, and fun sex, how did it turn into this?
Haechan didn’t mean to mess something up.
But Haechan doesn’t know that the only thing he messed up with is your heart.
It takes you a while, but you get over him and get back to your daily life, the real one. No more depressing couch-sitting-eating sessions or extremely exhausting workouts to burn your brain down, no more avoiding social life and crying yourself to sleep.
Johnny didn’t understand what happened, he felt like there was something going on between you and Haechan, but you never told him anything and you wouldn’t keep that a secret to yourself, right? Not from him at least. But even if he didn’t know the reasoning he gently, and friendly, dragged you out of the house without asking many questions, he just wanted you back.
And you were back, a bit less chatty and loud, with a lightly dimmed glow in your eyes, and with a tongue that stopped flirting with every breathing being, but you were there.
Haechan had disappeared, he was true to his promise, and you never saw him in the mixed-groups group hangouts, so moving on from him had been easier.
You don’t hear his laugh anymore, you don’t laugh at his jokes, you can’t feel his hand secretly and gently rest on your thighs under the table, he can’t rest his head on your shoulder when the alcohol kicks in and he is too wasted, you don’t have someone to dance with or run away back home when your social battery dies.
You don’t have him.
And it sucks.
But you try not to show it. You are trying to move on, and even if you hate how tortuous it feels this time and how you still look for his dumb-looking, slap-attracting, handsome, kissable face, you are trying.
You are also failing.
When the seventh drink of the night reaches your stomach, you’re not even sure you’d be able to answer if someone asked what’s your name. And you hate that a name is still loud and clear, ringing in your mind like a permanent reminder that maybe, just maybe, you are not getting over him.
So, you drag your legs up and feel your head turn, everything is spinning but you need to find someone that will drown him out. You can’t keep going on like this.
“Hi,” you mumble when you reach the bar and sit clumsily on the stool.
“Oh, hi, babe. Look what we have here,” the man replies, studying you.
“Wanna fuck?”
“Oh, you go straight to the point, and I wouldn’t say no if only you didn’t look completely out of yourself.”
“I’m not,” you reply, shaking your head — terrible idea, everything spins faster, and you have to squeeze your eyes to find balance again. “I just had a few drinks.”
“A few?”
“Yeah. I can take you home,” you wink, caressing his arm with two fingers and the stranger chuckles before shaking his head.
“I think we need to find somebody that knows you to take you home. Are you alone?”
You shake your head. “You could take me home. I’m good, I give amaaazing blowjobs.”
“I don’t want to doubt your abilities, but you’re drunk,” he says, starting to look around, hoping to be lucky enough to make eye contact with someone you may know.
“Come on, I need this. Is it because you think you can’t take me?” You still insist, pressing your finger on his chest in an accusative tone.
He snorts, “I can take you, but sober. Hey,” he calls someone, waving his hand and at the same time trying to keep your body up with his other one.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Johnny’s voice is clear and too loud, especially when he groans your name angrily after you try to avoid him.
“Do you know him?”
“He’s my bestie,” you say, rolling your eyes. “My bad, bad bestie. He made me meet someone that broke my heart, don’t let me go with him, pleaseee.”
“Man, she needs aspirin and a bed.”
Johnny nods, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the sit, “Yeah, I can see. Thank you for not taking advance of her.”
“Should be the norm,” he smiles. “Take care. And maybe talk with whoever broke your heart.”
“No,” you reply angrily, crossing your arms on your chest. “I’m mad at you,” you say to Johnny, trying to walk away from him but you need his support to don’t wiggle around like jelly. “You first say I need some fun and then the fun breaks my heart and now the fun at the bar is not okay because I’m not sober to you and him and why I can’t have nice things?”
Johnny stares at you as if you’re crazy; he had seen you drunk but never like this, so miserable, and the fact he has not even a faint idea of how and why you are like this, doesn’t sit right with him. “Why don’t we sit in a corner and talk?”
“I don’t want to. I want Haechan,” you slur out, collapsing on the sit and resting your head on his chest, but the music is loud and Johnny’s not sure he heard right.
“You want who?”
“Haehan,” you mumble against his shirt.
“Okay, I don’t know who or what you want but we need to go home, come on. Please, drag your feet to the car, I’ll carry you inside your place but please, let’s just make it to the car.”
Johnny has to carry you to the car in his arms because you are a boneless mess and he doesn’t want to end the night at the hospital because you broke your ankles on those damn heels; mental reminder to gift you heels you can easily walk on even when you have more alcohol than blood running in your veins.
The drive back home is a blur in your brain, you’re sure you’re not sleeping, but your head is spinning and at some point, you start shedding some tears and mumble chants of a name, Johnny supposes, but he can’t get it right. Your voice is low and groggy, and sobs come through every whimper that escapes your lips.
“My place or yours?” He asks, hoping you can give him an answer, but you answer other doubts instead.
“Hyuck,” you whisper, and Johnny finally has all the puzzle pieces to put together.
When you wake up in the morning with a throbbing headache and your stomach turned upside down, the last thing you want to deal with is your best friends’ stares and glances he throws at you as if he knows something you don’t know he knows.
You don’t ask him any questions right away, your brain is too far gone to deal with it, but after another aspirin and a coffee, you feel like you’re ready to face him. Except you’re not quite ready for what’s to come.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, rubbing your temples while you rest your elbows on his kitchen table.
“Haechan,” he replies with a smirk on his face as if he finally got you right where he wanted you, cornered. And well, you feel like you are, and maybe you should’ve waited a bit longer cause your acting skills are not at their best right now, but you take another sip from your cup, shrug, and then reply nonchalantly.
“What about him?”
Johnny’s eyes roll back as he huffs loudly. “Do we really have to do this?”
“Do what? You bring him up out of nowhere,” you say, but the calmness of your voice is being betrayed by the nervous bouncing of your leg and Johnny gets it immediately, and that’s when he shoots his arrow.
“You love him.”
“What?” You almost spit the coffee out while you stare at your best friend with wide eyes, hoping to see a reaction, hoping that this disgusted him to the point he will get up and focus on cleaning the table and insult you instead of twisting the knife in the wound that’s called ‘me and Haechan.’ But he’s impassive, and it’s written all over his face that he’s not buying it, or anyway, he wants to dig deep into all the secrets you kept from him.
“You love him,” he repeats, and those words coming out so slowly from his mouth make shivers run down your spine.
“I don’t,” you reply sternly, getting up to clean the spilled coffee and keep yourself busy.
“You do. You slurred his name all the way back home and I thought I was crazy until you said Hyuck and hell no, that’s him.” Johnny reaches you and now you also feel physically cornered by his big body — why the hell is he so big? — and physically disgusted because you did what? And why couldn’t he leave you in somebody else home? Slurring his name to a stranger wouldn’t have been as embarrassing as what you did.
“So? Are you going to answer? Or keep denying?” He presses you again, and before he can scold you as he usually does with an annoyed call of your name in a stern tone, you snap.
“We used to fuck, okay?”
“You did what?” Johnny almost screams at your face, and you push him back to walk to the living room.
“Don’t be surprised, you literally set us up.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? What happened to our friendship and our rules.” Johnny’s voice cracks as he tries to accept that you, his best friend, sister of another mother, and partner in crimes, really kept all of this behind him.
“Oh, screw rules, all those fucking rules I never know how to respect,” you huff, falling on the couch and holding your head in your hands. And Johnny has to rub his temples because all of this is insane and surreal to his ears.
“You don’t know how to respect them? You. Miss little rules?”
“Shut up.”
“Wait… your rules about sex? Are you talking about all that crap you believe won’t make you catch feelings?”
“It never made me catch feelings. It always worked. Clear boundaries, good sex, and everybody on their way.”
Johnny smirks, kneeling in front of you so you can’t avoid his gaze anymore. “You broke them.”
“I didn’t,” you mutter, and you want to slap his face because why is he having so much fun seeing your breakdown?
“You did. You just told me; you got mad when I mentioned them, and you wouldn’t get mad unless something didn’t go as you planned.”
“Nothing happened,” you retort, leg bouncing progressively faster as you feel your heart race and your body burn.
“No, you broke them.”
“I didn’t.”
“You fell in love with him.”
“Don’t,” you stop him with a glare that doesn’t scare away the smirk on his face. Instead, the look in your eyes, the way your lips are twitching, and your continuous nervous movements are everything Johnny needs to let him know he’s right.
“You fell in love with Haechan.”
You almost scream when those words roll from his lips, you hate hearing that thought, that fear that has been lingering in your brain every night for a month now. “Shut up, don’t make things up. I broke the rules of not telling you we fucked.”
“Oh, no, girl, I know you. You’re fidgeting with your fingers, and your voice is shaking, you’re straight-up lying and you can sell that bullshit to anybody else but not me, so spill the fuck you have to spill or else we’re going to have a long day.”
“There’s nothing to know. We started fucking, and then stopped, but I’m in my unlucky month and I don’t find anybody that’s good enough to satisfy me. And that’s why I’m breaking rules, I like to have fun, but I don’t like to try so many people and fuck with every person I see, you know I hate it.”
“Then why are you doing it? Your toys are not enough anymore?”
“Yeah, I’ll stick to them,” you cut it short, trying to avoid his eyes because you know you will fall. Johnny has this power of dragging things out of your mouth, you’re lucky he didn’t get the tiniest hint of what was going on between you and Haechan or he would’ve made you face some painful truths a long time ago.
“If it was so good, why did you stop?”
You shrug. Fuck.
“That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t know, he wanted to see new people and we just stopped.”
“Really?” Johnny asks with a teasing edge to his voice, clearly mocking you. “He’s not seeing anybody.”
“Maybe he didn’t tell you. You didn’t know about us, and we were both friends with you, so. Or maybe he didn’t find another one, just like me.”
“He seems rather heartbroken, and he asked a weird question about you.”
Now it’s your time to be shocked. He asks about you? He doesn’t hate you after the way you treated him? You’re still in his mind? No, why would any of this matter? Why do you care? It doesn’t matter. “What?” Well, it shouldn’t matter.
“If everything was alright or if something happened to you.”
“Just checking on people is normal.” You shake it off with a nod and raise of shoulders, but something inside you is burning. It’s that flame you think you put out and yet found a way to spark up every time you don’t think about it.
“Not asking if something happened,” he says before walking around and studying you. You are avoiding his gaze and are a raging ball of nervousness, you weren’t even like this with your ex-boyfriend, let alone with your few hook-ups. And then something else clicks in his brain. “Did you cut him off without a word?” And when you don’t answer, and he calls out your name with urgency, you can’t lie anymore.
“Maybe,” you reply with a loud groan, your head falling backwards with force, hitting the backrest so hard you hurt yourself even if there’s the cushion dividing you from the hard surface. “Maybe I did.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He shouts, throwing his hands over his head.
“Johnny, please, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay? I know I was rude, and an asshole.”
“No, you’re in love, it’s different.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Why are you lying? You never called your ex-boyfriend’s name while you were wasted, you never broke any of your rules for him, it took you nothing to move on, and the only reason you got back was because you wanted revenge and because you needed to fill your life with something. You never cared for him nearly as half of what you care for Haechan, so why lie, and why lie to me?”
“I don’t want to,” you sniffle, suddenly feeling your brain spin again while your nails sink into the fabric of the pants Johnny gave you.
“Talk to me?”
“No, to love him.”
There it is; the loud confession. That confession you didn’t even do to yourself alone in the darkness of your room. It’s still bouncing against the walls of Johnny’s place in plain sight under the bright daylight and it pierces your ears and your heart.
Fuck. You’re screwed.
Your eyes lock with Johnny’s and your brain would like to lie and mumble some nonsense but your heart can’t keep bleeding without being taken care of anymore. So, hot salt starts streaming down your face silently and your head faces the ground while two strong arms wrap around you.
You’re screwed.
When you’ve cried all your tears in Johnny’s arms, and you feel like you can try to put it down to words you do it. Maybe with Johnny by your side, it will be easier.
“I don’t know what the hell he did to me.”
“That’s a nice start.”
“I’m not saying I didn’t consider the possibility of this going down a different path and starting to allow feelings in but… like this? I’ve never felt like this before, not even when I fell first, and I’m not even sure I’ve ever loved somebody before if this is how it’s supposed to feel.”
“Then why don’t just let yourself go for once? You don’t have to always have everything under control.”
“But I’m scared. I hated seeing him with someone that wasn’t me. The mere idea of him being with somebody else now makes me sick. This is scary.”
“Love can be scary at times, but that’s what it is.”
You breathe in deeply and rub your temples. “But what if it’s wrong? What if… God, I’m doing all this and I’m not even sure he likes me back.”
“Well, if it’s right, you know, right?”
You shrug, you thought it was right so many times before, and then it never was but this felt different, everything about Haechan hits different, it truly was like an arrow straight to your heart purposefully made to hit you straight to the core and cut you deep.
Johnny sighs, you already talked too much today and faced the truth, he knows he can’t push you any further.
“I’m not saying you have to take him back but… sometimes you can take the good things life gives you without tearing them into pieces. It will tear you into pieces if you keep putting rules to things that are destined to flow freely.”
Going back to the coast feels like torture, especially when both you and Haechan forgot to ask Johnny if the other was there and found out only when you hopped out of the cars and locked eyes after months.
No, you didn’t pick up the phone even after that conversation with Johnny. It felt humiliating to crawl back to him after so much time, so you decided that whatever was going on, was destined to die.
But when your eyes jump into his again, and cheesily, it feels like the time had stopped, you’re not so sure whatever was, or is, going on, is destined to die.
It’s awkward when you don’t know if you should greet him or not, but luckily in the mess of everyone greeting each other, you lose him in the ‘crowd’ of friends. Fortunately, most of them found somebody to bring along so there are double of people than the last time. Unfortunately, that leads you and Haechan to the same room of this summer. Of course, nobody knows, and you’re not quick enough to retort when Mark decides like this after sorting everybody else in other rooms, and Johnny’s not there to save your ass — probably he wouldn’t.
The tension can be cut with a knife and you feel like your head is exploding while you two make your way to the room and then start to put your things in place.
“I can sleep on the couch,” Haechan says, breaking the suffocating silence.
“No, it’s fine,” you almost choke on your words, unprepared, non-expecting he would talk to you first, “we did worse things together,” you chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood but you only get a forced snicker back before he turns around and gives you his back again. You know that wasn’t the smartest answer you could give, but you don’t know how to ease the tension and the heavy weight of guilt in the pit of your stomach.
You want to talk, that should be the right moment to do it, to apologize, at least. But you’re tongue-tied.
“Is there even something to do here during winter?” He speaks, still giving you his back, and it takes you a while to understand he’s addressing you.
“Uhm, yes,” you reply. “The city is nice, and there are mountains just forty minutes away from here so… usually with our families we used to ski.”
“Great,” Haechan hums, standing up, brushing his hands on his pants to flatten the creases of the fabric, “never done it before. Guess I’ll take a look around town. Last time I didn’t get to visit it,” he smiles before walking out and you feel the ground collapse under your feet.
You won’t survive three days like this.
You hated spending time in that house during winter when you were a child, the sun didn’t shine bright enough, the sand was wet and sticky, and you didn’t know how to ski, also you never got why your family spent so much money on that sport when they clearly weren’t as rich as Johnny’s parents, and no one of you was good enough for it to even be fun.
Now nothing changed, the cloudy weather over the sea is depressing, and watching your friends have fun is not making you feel any better, you still don’t know how to ski, and you have a lump in your throat as your brain runs faster than you, screaming how you put yourself in this situation.
The tea in your hand is not hot enough, you wasted too much time stealing glimpses at Haechan and his new crush to drink it when Johnny served it to everybody after all of you came back from the — for you terrible — ski session this afternoon. You didn’t do anything but sit on a bench and hold back your tears while everybody else was having fun. You should’ve stayed at home, it would’ve been better than having to deal with Wonyoung — apparently, that was her name — laugh and giggle every time Haechan opened his mouth, or their intertwined hands while they both tried to learn how to use the ski. And now it’s not going better, she’s sitting on his lap while he caresses her hair with one hand and the other draws circles on her palm, and all your friends are sharing knowing glares as they point at them.
You never had that with him, and the jealousy mixes with bitterness, until you realize that the arrangement you had didn’t include any of that. So why did you want it so much? Why do you want to be her so badly right now?
You sigh, running a finger on the mug in front of you, staring at the brownish liquid as if by magic you’re going to see your future in it, but you think it’s better like this, you’re pretty sure the picture would be a tragedy anyway.
When the talks get irritating, you decide to go back to your room, not even saying anything, you’re not sure about what they want to do, it was in the air to eat at a place downtown but you didn’t pay their talks much attention. You decide to go for a shower with the hope it will relax you and wash away some heaviness, but nothing much changes once you’re out and dressed up in clean clothes. It only gets worse when you open your room, and Haechan is there, laying on the bed with a hand behind his head and his phone in the other.
You pass in front of him, not saying a word, silently putting back in your purse your shampoo and conditioner, and other things you carried with you. He doesn’t talk either. It has been like this the whole day, barely acknowledging each other and now it’s getting too heavy. You owe him an apology, not to make things get back in place, they never will, but because he didn’t deserve it.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you say, turning around, “I’m sorry I avoided you.”
Haechan lifts his head, a small frown connecting his brows for a while, almost as if he’s trying to get what you’re referring to, and when he does, the muscles of his face relax. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t want to… to leave you like this.”
“It doesn’t matter, you had all the right to stop it,” he shrugs, looking down for a second, probably closing the app on his phone because you don’t hear the faint sound of the video playing anymore. “I don’t cry for sex.”
You hum, but you study his face to understand if he’s serious. Was it just sex for him? Were you just sex for him?
“I…” you stop and look away. Your leg is bouncing nervously and you’re playing with your fingers, pressing your nails into your skin. “I have to tell you something.”
“Yeah?”
“I… I lo—”
“Haechannie!” Wonyoung’s voice rings loudly in the room, stopping you from going on. “We are taking a look around, want to come with me and keep me warm? Also, we’ll have dinner together.” You shouldn’t find the way she bats her eyes so irritating, neither her voice, or the way she’s looking at him right now, but you feel like puking, and you hope Haechan will decline; out of all the things he said before, you heard he was tired and wanted to go to bed, so he will say no, right?
“Yeah, I’d love to. Be there in a minute.”
“Ah! You’re the best, baby,” she cheers, running to leave a kiss on his cheeks and then walking out.
“You were saying?” He asks, turning his attention on you, shaking his hair out of his forehead.
You shake your head, gulping. “Nothing,” you smile, it’s forced and fake, and if he’d look closely, he’d see a tear at the corner of your eyes, but he doesn’t. He’s looking at you with his head slightly tilted in mild concern, but you know it’s just for niceties.
“It seemed serious, though?”
“It was just another apology you don’t want,” you breathe out in a bitter chuckle, rubbing your hands on your thighs while your gaze meets the floor. “I lost track of myself during the time we drifted apart, I’m sorry it… it fired back to you.”
“Oh,” he says, “it’s fine, seriously. I just care that you’re fine. You are fine, right?”
You hold back a sob and smile, feeling tears at the corner of your eyes. “Never been better.”
“Good,” he smiles. “You coming?”
“No, I’m tired, I’ll go to bed like a child that has school tomorrow at 8.”
Haechan laughs and then grabs his jacket. “’Kay, don’t take all the bed. You still have that bad habit, don’t you?”
You chuckle, giving him an apologetic look, “I have a bed too big for me only, I’m not used to sharing.”
He nods and then opens the door. “Leave a small patch for me, and don’t have too much fun all alone,” he winks.
You smile and then wave him goodbye.
If crying yourself to sleep was fun, you were about to have the funniest night of your life.
“Been a while, isn’t it?”
The last thing you expect to find in the morning is Haechan’s face looking down at you with a teasing smirk while you rest too close to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” you say, sitting up in the blink of an eye, trying to rub the sleep off your face and scoot away from him.
Haechan scoffs under his breath, painting that bitterness with irony, “It’s nice to know you didn’t change.”
You chuckle awkwardly and then jump off the bed.
“No, definitely didn’t change,” he whispers when you run away from his fingers again. He wants to block you in, to stop you from slipping away, but if he couldn’t do it months ago, he doesn’t see how he can do it now. After all, you’ve never been his. This isn’t different from what you used to do in the morning, now he looks at you and can see that nothing changed. You’re up, putting your hair in a ponytail, rushing to the bathroom to wash up, and he knows you won’t even come back into the room, but run downstairs to have breakfast.
You are long gone and he doesn’t even know how and why he lost you. Maybe it’s better like this, maybe all this silence coming from you can give him a reason to hate you and move on.
But moving on from you seems something impossible to do.
From that moment on, you two decide you can go back to at least be friends and hang out in the same group again. It’s not exactly like before, but it’s better than silence and distance.
Or maybe not.
You can’t stand that Haechan doesn’t sit next to you anymore, he’s always on the other side with Wonyoung, and you can’t bet on it, but you fear that his hand is now resting on her thigh and you hate it.
You don’t show it, not with words, but your body is a neon sign flashing that you don’t want to be there, especially when everyone leaves to take on the dance floor and you’re left with your thoughts.
“Why are you always alone?” Mark asks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Minjeong, but I can still see you’re beautiful and hot, why are you the only single one?”
“The only one?” That’s the only thing your brain registers, making you stare at him with eyes too wide to make it pass like a normal reaction.
“Well, it seems that even Hyuck found someone that can stand his annoying ass,” he jokes, pointing at him and Wonyoung.
“Oh, I didn’t get they were official,” you whisper, your lips quiver, making it look like a smile but it’s pure sadness.
“So it seems, he’s quite private over this.”
You hum and feel your heart break into million pieces again. It shouldn’t hit you so hard and leave you trembling, but it does.
“What about you?”
You shrug, rubbing your arms. “I’m the problem, that’s why I’m single.”
Mark chuckles tenderly, sitting next to you. “So, you’re heartbroken.”
“Maybe.”
“Was it serious?”
“It wasn’t even started.”
“Oh, well, isn’t that better? Maybe it wasn’t even love,” he attempts to lift you up, trying to see it from another perspective. “A lot of times what we tend to consider love is not it. It’s just a lie, something else dressed up as a feeling that is not that deep.”
Yeah, you wish it was it.
“Yeah, surely,” you reply, by now there are no emotions in your voice. “I don’t care, I moved on. I just hate sitting here while looking miserable.”
“Why don’t you go talk to someone? I think that girl at the bar is looking at you?”
“Maybe,” you whisper, not even caring to follow his finger to see the girl that is, in fact, looking at you. “Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom before hitting on people I don’t know,” you joke, smiling at him and letting a laugh follow.
Mark copies you before his hand touches your arm and pats it gently. “It will be fine.”
You nod before pulling your lips into another forced smile. You hope so.
You don’t walk toward the bar, your want to even find someone that can take you home is nowhere to be found, and you sit in a corner to stare at Haechan from afar. He can’t be in love with her, right? But then again, why shouldn’t he?
That torture lasts for a while, and when you think you paid the price for your sin, you grab your things and exit. Sure, you intend to go inside again, Johnny dropped you there, but not now. You need to cool off, and shut your brain. You don’t know how, your method was Haechan but now he is the reason why your mind keeps running a thousand miles per hour.
You’ll find a way, you always did.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Haechan says, leaning next to you against the wall.
A grin curls your lips, and you partly open your eyes to make sure he’s real and not made up by your mind. He is very much real, with his denim jacket that doesn’t keep him any warm and his — now black — hair falling on his face, while his eyes look at you with too much concern. “I tend to self-sabotage a lot,” you whisper, huffing out the air, “you should know it.”
“Yeah, not like this.”
“Hey, I was smoking it!” You scream when he slaps your hand, not hard to hurt you, but hard enough to make the cigarette fall to the ground.
“Since when?”
You roll your eyes, watching the cig on the floor becoming completely useless now that he’s stepping on it, and then you shrug, “I don’t smoke, some guy offered it to me, and I wanted to see if it has any kick.”
“Why?”
“Why do you care? I’m not your problem.” Your eyes are not on him, staring straight into the night that falls upon the road in front of you, but you can feel his stare burning into your skin. Also, he’s close, and you’re not used to having him this close anymore.
He snorts and you glare at him, but that doesn’t faze him. “You said you were doing fine; it doesn’t look like it.”
“I’m just tired, I want to go home, that’s it.”
“You barely talked, danced, or did anything the whole night,” he points out, rubbing his chin and raising a brow.
“Oh, so you don’t only have eyes for your girlfriend,” you spit out before you can realize it.
“Girlfriend?” He tilts his head, and his lips twitch into a barely visible smirk.
“Yeah, the fake blonde.”
Haechan laughs, “Jealous, babe?”
“No. And don’t call me babe. I’m not your problem and I’m not your babe.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he says resolutely.
“Oh, well, ‘cause she’s all over your dick so it looked like.”
Another laugh rolls from his lips, this time louder and without a nervous grin hidden behind. “You are jealous.”
“I’m not,” you retort, frowning.
“You were the one all over my dick, and you decided to stop that.”
“I wasn’t like that. I was on your dick, having the best orgasms of my life, but I never humiliated myself in front of you doing silly voices, calling you Haechannieee, or touching you as if you were about to be kidnapped by the aliens and I wouldn’t have had the chance to see you ever again, or looked at you with those eyes that could — well, you get the picture.”
“Oh, I do. You are so fucking jealous and it’s kinda turning me on, I have to admit,” he teases you with a smug smirk on his face.
“Shut up, asshole,” you smack his arm. “Go back to her.”
“Nah, the aliens are kidnapping me, I guess she’ll have to spend the rest of the night alone.”
You glare at him, eyes dropping on your intertwined arms in disbelief when he links them and starts walking away from there.
“Come on, I’m hungry,” he urges, pushing you with more force.
“What are you doing?” You ask, gesturing nervously with your hands and looking back at the club that was disappearing behind you.
“Taking you to our favourite hamburger place, I could eat you right now for how starved I am.”
“I wouldn’t complain,” you wink shamelessly.
“Not like that,” he says. “I’m not sure you deserve it after the way you behaved.”
You huff but follow him, keeping up with his fast steps, until you reach his car and jump inside. It’s been a while since you’ve been there, and when you stop and think about what happened in the backseats your body heats up, but you try not to think about that, and instead turn on the heater and the music how you like. Haechan only laughs lowly, and you know he doesn’t mind, after all these months he knows you can pass as bossy sometimes, and like things in a certain way, so he lets you.
“I told you I’m sorry and you said it was fine,” you retort, not letting his remark of before go unnoticed.
“You just don’t read me, do you? Like, fuck, you are hard to read but I’m an open book and you truly think that shit didn’t hurt?”
“I think it hurt you that’s why I felt like shit, and that’s why with each passing day I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. I get scared when things go well, and it’s not right, it’s not healthy, and I know I hurt you, but I’m sorry, I truly am. You can ask Johnny, he knows it.”
“Yeah, I know he knows.”
“You know he knows?” You scream. It is always Johnny’s fault.
“I know he knows,” he replies with too much calm for your liking. “He had to spill something when I thought you hated me, and I couldn’t sleep thinking about what I could’ve done wrong. He told me you didn’t hate me, that you are dumb and don’t know how to deal with anything in your life that doesn’t follow exactly the path you traced, and I thought ‘oh yeah, seems fitting of her, not surprised’ and moved on… well, tried to.”
“Oh,” you gasp.
“Oh?” He snorts, shaking his head. “All you can say?”
“Do you want me to spend the whole ride saying I’m an asshole?”
Haechan laughs, “It would be entertaining but I will save you from humiliation.”
“Thanks,” you utter, looking out of the window and grinning. This is wild, all over the place, and smells like the calm before the storm, but you like it because you’re back with him by your side.
When you arrive at what used to be your place, you sit at your table while he orders your usual. For him, a double cheeseburger and for you, the big fries’ portion with a sauce that only that place makes — that you would’ve shared with him but only if he begged well enough.
“I missed this,” he whispers after a few minutes when you’re both halfway through your order.
“The burger? Yeah, I missed this sauce, God, I will find someone that sells this.”
“I missed this, dumbass,” he says, and you feel your heart in your throat when your eyes meet, and he has that glint that you love so much. It’s like a light shining through, and some softness that only shows up in certain moments, you still don’t know what causes it, but you love it.
“Oh, I… I missed this too,” you mumble, diverting the gaze and cleaning your mouth with the napkin to keep yourself busy.
“Wow, wow, wow, wait, you? Getting a tiny, little, small, fainty, invisible bit sentimental?”
“Stupid! You make me look like a heartless bitch.”
Haechan raises his brows and cocks his head to the side.
“Don’t look at me with that face. You know I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I broke my rules for you!” You confess in the heat of the moment, raising your voice, the last words coming out in a squeak.
Oh, shit.
Haechan is confused and you don’t know how to save yourself.
“Rules?” He asks with a frown as he stops midway with his hamburger in hand.
“It’s nothing,” you shrug, grabbing the cola and bringing it to your lips.
He swallows, shaking his head to try to understand if he got it right. “You had rules?”
“I didn’t.” You try to focus on the fries now, but even the window looks tempting, it’s near and you could easily escape from there and ghost him agai—
“So, maybe you are not a cold, heartless, emotionless, impenetrable, untouchable, person after all?”
You sigh, rubbing your neck, and giving up the escape plan. Like the old times, you can give him what he wants without actually giving him what he wants, right? Just a small peek into yourself and then he’s out. “I let you sleep in my bed, only three people had the honour, Johnny, unfortunately my ex, and you.”
Haechan’s lips curl up and his nose twitches. “You are the sweetest person for breaking your rule.”
“That’s not a rule,” you lie but this time he falls for it.
“Then what were the rules?”
“Just eat, and then let’s go home. You’re so curious for no reason.”
“Yeah, you shared too much tonight, would never want to stress you,” he jokes before stealing one of your fries and send you a flying kiss.
“Thanks for the food,” you say when you both reach the door of your apartment. He usually wouldn’t come out of the car to walk you to the door of the complex, and even less he would reach the apartment door. But you didn’t stop him when he followed you in the elevator, you didn’t even flinch, almost as if that was how it was supposed to be.
“Nothing,” he smiles. “It was fun, talking and you know, just us, like the old times.”
You chuckle tenderly, nodding while trying to find the courage to ask one more thing, “Want to come in?”
“I don’t have a toothbrush at your place,” he laughs, reminding you that in the heat of the rush, you never went back to pick up all your things at his place.
“I should have a new one in the cabinet.”
Things go back to normal after that. You’re not sure it’s healthy, considering you didn’t confess your feelings, aren’t sure he feels the same, he had to be honest with Wonyoung without making any names because you two still want this to be private, and the only confrontations you had on your detachment were those two talks. But it’s fine.
The good sex is back. Haechan is back. You are back. The tension in the air is gone and you can enjoy the nights out without Mark worrying about you looking more dead than alive. And Johnny thinks you finally let loose.
But you didn’t. Some fears still linger inside of you and sometimes are stronger than others times.
“Fuck,” you mumble, “do you really have to push me against the metal bar?”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Haechan laughs, pulling away from the kiss.
“Don’t laugh! This furniture is a menace to society, you need to find something else to put in your entrance,” you say, rubbing your back.
“If you weren’t horny like a bunny and waited at least to the couch to jump on me, I wouldn’t push you against it,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and starting to walk into the leaving room.
“I can’t stand you,” you whisper through the kiss, struggling to get him out of his clothes, but after a while, almost everything is scattered on the floor of his living room and you two are rushing to his bedroom.
“Is it softer for my princess?” He teases when he pushes you down on the mattress and hovers over you.
You roll your eyes but still hum. “I have the back of an 80-year-old, you need to respect that.”
“Doesn’t look like it when I fuck you all night,” he laughs.
“Should we test it?” You’re done playing around. After a dinner out, and an hour driving around town, because you wanted to see the city lights, you needed him. The flirts were unbearable and also it had been the longest week of your life.
And Haechan doesn’t make you repeat it twice, his hands reach your panties and slip between your legs, meeting the wetness that’s collected there. He doesn’t even bother to pull your underwear down, he pushes two fingers into your welcoming warm entrance and starts pumping in and out right away.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, staring in awe between your legs, “you take me so fucking well. Missed my fingers? That’s why you sent those photos the other day, ‘cause yours aren’t enough anymore and you were hoping I would’ve rushed here to fuck you.”
You curse, “Don’t act as if you didn’t start it.”
He scoffs, “It was just a hand pic, needed to know your opinion about the new watch and rings.”
“And the thighs picture?” You try to sound menacing, but his fingers are making your voice tremble, and picturing those images in your mind doesn’t help you either.
“Liked the new grey shorts? They’re pretty, right?”
“Fuck off, Haechan,” you gasp, and he laughs deeply.
“It’s so easy to mess with you,” he coos, leaning in to leave a peck on your lips. “Was the jacking off video enough to make it up for the teasing?”
“No,” you cry out. He couldn’t play with you like that, sending you a video of him fucking his fist while he moaned and whimpered. You had spent the past six days replaying it, waiting for this moment to come, and even if he was so hot even through the camera, you needed to feel him inside, outside, everywhere.
“Is this enough?”
“Yes,” you moan, opening your eyes to meet his. “Just — fuck — go faster, please.”
His lips curl upward while his two fingers start moving at a faster speed, you almost come on the spot when he presses a hand on top of your stomach and moves his thumb in circles on your clit. Your whimpered ‘too much’ gets shut down when his lips fall on yours and start kissing you. You feel lightweight, entire body reacting to his touches and kisses, playing you like a violin. His mouth is delicate and addictive and you find yourself thinking nobody ever kissed you like that. You can’t put a name on whatever ‘that’ is, but you love it.
“Why are you kissing me like that?”
“Like what?” He whispers, huffing air against your wet lips and staring straight into your eyes.
Like you mean it.
“Nothing, just —” your lips meet his again while your fingers tangle in his hair and his free hand runs on your smaller back, pushing you flat against him. “Fuck.” You feel his digits deeper and your brain starts spinning faster while your boobs rise fast trapped in the lingerie that is still on your body.
“Hyuck,” you cry out, reaching his wrist to slow his movement since you feel too sensitive.
“I’m not stopping, babe. You’ve been thinking about this for days.”
“I — I know but —”
He shushes you again with kisses while he moves your hips so he can hit exactly where he wants, making you scream out when his fingertips start slamming quickly against your sweet spot. You are breathless and you feel your stomach tighten while your legs spread to give him space to give you everything.
“Come for me, come on,” he encourages, pressing delicate kisses on your rising chest and whispering praises.
Your scream pierces the bedroom of his apartment when one twist of his wrist makes your high explode. Your nails dig deep into his arm in response as the sensations feel overwhelming when he doesn’t stop right away, making sure he’s getting every last drop out of you.
“Hyu-hyuck, enough — enough, please,” you snarl, hips bucking up in erratic motions that make him smirk proudly.
“I have a surprise for you,” he says before licking his fingers clean after he pulled out of you reluctantly. He loved making you come with his fingers only, watching them move past your pussy, while your cum coated them and dripped down his wrist and your ass, he loved how he could be all over you.
You don’t reply but you feel it’s something to be afraid of since he’s looking at you with a devilish grin on his face.
“Wanna see it?” He smirks, jumping off the bed and shoving his boxers down, finally giving you a sight of his hard throbbing dick.
You hum lowly in reply, forcing your eyes up from between his thighs and following him with your gaze as he walks to the closet and roams through something before he comes back to you with one hand behind his back.
“You’re scaring me,” you breathe out.
“I’m sure you’ll love it.”
Your mouth opens in surprise when he pulls out a small wand vibrator. It’s not the first time you use a toy, though you never had a vibrator of that kind, you’re just worried about what he wants to do with that.
“You won’t edge me, right?”
“Why not?” He asks, starting to jerk his hard cock, collecting pre-cum and making it fall on your lower stomach. “You look so pretty when no coherent words come out of your mouth and your eyes are empty… well, filled with lust and me, but empty of anything else.”
You groan, about to lift your torso but he pushes you back right away. “Don’t move,” he orders sternly, caressing your inner thigh as he slowly drags your panties down, leaving you bare, and then pulls you closer. His cock brushes over your pussy, but that’s not where you need him.
Haechan laughs, seeing the desperation in your eyes, finding it funny you’re truly thinking he won’t fuck you. “Honey, I need this pussy just as much as you need my cock, I won’t disappoint you,” he groans and then drives his hips back to align himself to your gaping entrance.
“Why do you always make me wait,” you cry out.
“Because it wouldn’t be funny otherwise,” he clicks his tongue, wrapping a hand on the base of his dick and then smearing your wetness everywhere on your pussy, but he doesn’t slip in. “Should we try this new toy before?”
You huff loudly, rolling your head back and the laugh that resonates through his ribcage makes you want to slap him but you’re left breathless once again when the vibrator starts buzzing right against your clit.
“Shit,” you curse, fingers gripping the sheets tightly and toes curling. “Haechan.”
“Yeah, that’s my name,” he taunts, playing with the different speeds and you know that’s not the first time he had the toy in hand, he doesn’t need to try it, he just wants to drive you insane, keeping you on the edge as the rhythm keeps changing and the fat tip of his cock is still pressing halfway into your cunt.
“Please,” you beg, opening your closed eyes and struggling to even breathe out that single word as he keeps messing with you.
“Please, what?” He leans down, he’s so close your noses almost touch and his breath hits your lips. “Use your words, babe.”
You inhale deeply, breathe breaking in the middle when he goes back to the higher frequency and you come on the spot, stilling as the rushes of pleasure invade your body and put a proud smirk on his face.
“Was that what you wanted?” He questions, kindly lowering the vibrations and pushing just a bit more of his tip into you.
“No,” you cry out, “want you.”
He quirks a brow, caressing your cheeks gently and kissing your lips. “Will you ask nicely?” He says, but when you only part your lips to let out sinful sounds and barely shake your head, he snaps. “I’m sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear,” he fakes a sweet tone before he growls and slaps your clit, “ask nicely.”
You gasp, feeling sparks rush through you when the spank hits. “Please, Haechan, please fuck me. I — I need you to fuck me. I’ve been — shit — thinking about you all week, wanted to — to feel your body and — nggh — your touch, please.” You feel on the verge of tears as the vibrator keeps going on your clit and the man between your legs is barely inside you.
But maybe that’s enough for him, maybe you did great and he will give you what you want.
“How much do you need me?”
Or maybe not.
“So much, so, so, so much. I dreamed of you, day and night, mhh,” you swallow a moan, fighting against another orgasm. “Fuck me ‘til I forget my name, please?”
Haechan moans, bottoming into you in a second, finally giving you what you deserve.
“Oh, God,” you gasp out when he fills you up, feeling overflowing with emotions. “Please, fuck me,” you don’t waste time begging again. You need him to move, to send you into the spiral of emptiness and fullness only he can push you into.
“I leave you starving for a week or less and you go completely crazy,” he mocks, picking up the rhythm he knows you love while he keeps the toy in place. “My greedy baby, aren’t you?”
You’re deep down that spiral because that sweet, condescending tone and the possessive pronoun don’t make you mad but instead, they make your heart jump to your throat and your heat clench around him.
He smirks when you don’t reply and angles your hips better so he can reach where he has you trembling.
“You’re making a mess, fuck,” he groans, drifting his gaze from your face to look between your legs. “You love this toy. Picked a nice gift, haven’t I?”
The teasing, bragging tone of his voice would make you talk back to him but you can’t say much. The intermitted buzzing of the toy and the never-ending pounding of his dick are driving you wild. Your head is rolled back and you don’t even care to shut down your moans, fuck the neighbours, after you two heard them fuck for three hours straight last week this was fair payback.
“Hyuck,” you cry louder when he changes the rhythm again and this time the vibration builds up slowly before crashing down, kinda like waves. “You’ll — fuck — too good.”
“I’ll what, babe?” He grins. “Make you come again? Drive you insane?”
You nod, jaw slack because you feel like you can’t breathe in enough air. And when the nth orgasm breaks through, tears erupt down your face. Haechan’s gentle enough to pull the toy away, probably not cause it’s a genuine move of heart but only because he’s too lost in your blissed face.
“Fuck,” he curses, shakily moving his fingers to caress your wet cheeks. The last time he saw you cry wasn’t a great view, and it was because of an asshole, but this time he is the reason for those tears, and they look so beautiful on your pretty, overwhelmed face. He thinks he loves when you get so vulnerable with him, he doesn’t even care that you only get like this during sex, he still has that power over you, and knowing you, this is already the biggest sign of trust you can gift him. “You’re so pretty, you know?”
A dumb smile paints on your face as your hands reach for him to pull him closer. You feel like your brain is melting and your bones are ashes but you want to feel that skin-on-skin contact more. You want him all over you, deeper into you, seeping into the smallest creases of you so that you can’t wash him away for days.
Haechan moans your name in a heated kiss when you clench around him. “Taking me so fucking well, that’s my good girl,” he praises, pushing back again on your lips. “My good girl.”
“Yours,” you whimper through moans and sobs.
“Yeah, mine,” he whispers back, changing the angle of his thrust so he can hit your sweet spot better and exactly how you like. But right now is just too much for you, between your clit being endlessly stimulated, his cock hitting deep into you and his lips and hands on your body, you’re sure you can’t drag this longer.
“Don’t you fucking dare pull away, hands off,” he scolds, swatting your hand away when you try to get between him and the vibrator.
“It’s too much,” you whimper, “I can’t anymore.”
“Yes, you can, babe. Just one more,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you softly to calm you down. “Can you take one more for me?” He still checks, slowing his movements and slowing down the speed of the wand.
You hum, breathing out a choked positive answer and he smiles happily, picking up his ministrations inside of you and on your lips. “Good girl,” he praises, “taking it all, taking me so well. I —” he stops, panic flicking behind his eyes but yours are closed and you’re too lost to feel the same rush of fear into you. “I’m so proud of you.”
Your heart jumps in your chest, and you feel like you could melt. Praises have never done anything to you until they started coming out of his mouth. They didn’t feel like a mock anymore, or like a nicety said just to be cliché and repeat some erotica-porn-type catchphrase. You know he means it.
Your eyes snap open when he starts fucking you faster, turning the vibration at that high setting and never changing it until you would’ve been done. Curse spill from your lips, but Haechan catches them all inside his mouth. He doesn’t do it to keep you silent, Mark’s not home anyway, he does it for another reason. Almost as if he’s addicted to your lips, or you.
“Hyuck,” you breathe out.
“I know, baby. I know,” he coos before sticking his face in the crook of your neck to smear wet pecks on your skin. “Come with me, okay?”
You hum, shaking your head in quick motions and trapping your lower lip in your teeth because you know your moans would be screams by now, and before the neighbours might mislead this beautiful sex for a crime scene, you try to keep it under control. Haechan is not as careful as you, his velvety, deep moans slip freely and you can’t blame him, your pussy must be gripping him tighter than ever before and be just as wet, the lewd wet sounds are a clear indication of how turned on you are.
And something between all that makes you both reach your climax, panting and squirming against each other before you go slack on the mattress and he collapses on top of you, thoughtful enough to turn off the toy and threw it at the side of the bed.
You feel lost in a haze when you turn around and snuggle closer to him, breathing in his scent and running your fingers on his chest. You look up and see him smiling lazily at you, and you reciprocate.
“You amaze me sometimes,” he whispers mindlessly, letting his hand run on your back, reaching your hair to brush some strands, following their natural pattern.
You chuckle, “For taking your cock so well?”
He snorts, rolling his eyes and leaning closer to you; the temptation to kiss you is strong, and weirdly enough you still haven’t moved back, but he knows he can’t risk it. “For taking everything I give you so well.”
“Fair.”
You stay there for a while more, waiting for your bodies to recharge a bit but the more he holds you in his arms the more you feel sleep take over you. But you both know you can’t sleep in those conditions, so Haechan breaks the magic.
“Should we order something to eat and in the meanwhile take a bath?”
You stretch, and hum. “If you carry me to the bathroom.”
Once he has ordered food and you’re both sitting in the bathtub, you let the warmth of the water wrap around you. It feels nice after the exhausting sex, and you love the scent of Haechan’s body wash, you love feeling his arms around you and his hands on you.
There’s nothing sexual about this, he’s delicately cleaning you with the sponge while you talk about stupid things and make jokes.
It’s warm. And safe. And special.
It’s different.
From anything else that ever happened before with anybody else, and even with him. And you think you might get used to this.
To a home, not a house.
To a place to come back to that’s full of life and love.
To him, and his laugh, and his voice, and his clothes scattered around, and his screams when he loses against his friends.
You truly believe you could get used to this.
But all the fears you have to face still appear like an insurmountable wall that menaces crashing on you.
Haechan has no intention of letting it slide this time. When he can’t reach you through call, when you still don’t answer his texts after five days, he knows he won’t write pathetic, heartbroken messages to you to let you go again.
He’s mad, furious, even, and once again, he can’t understand you.
You were back together, better than before, closer than before, and now, you’re gone without a word another time.
He doesn’t bother to text you to warn you, he’s pretty sure if you knew he was coming, you would’ve escaped to the other side of the world, leaving no traces behind. So he’s standing at your door, ringing the bell with no patience, and huffing loudly.
When the door opens and you murmur a curse after blabbering Johnny’s name because you were expecting to find him, your eyes widen.
“Haechan?” You whisper, throat dry and hand shaking on the knob.
He doesn’t say anything, he pushes you to the side and enters the place.
“Haechan, I can —” you start, but his glare stops you.
“Why do you always ruin everything good?” His voice is shaking and so are his lips, quivering even now that he’s not talking anymore.
And you’re frozen. You’re not ready for this. You didn’t prepare a speech before, you don’t have an explanation about your personality and you two. You spent the last five days working and worrying because things went wrong once again because you let him too close and now he is there, waiting for an answer you were never able to give yourself.
“I said,” he starts, “why do you ruin everything good?”
“I don’t…”
Haechan groans loudly, throwing his head back and turning around because he can’t stand your face, your tears rolling down your cheeks as if you’re the victim in this, and probably partially you are, but why can’t you let him in? Why can’t you explain it to him? Whatever is bothering you and making you stab him repeatedly. He just wants to know why before he lets you go, but it seems you don’t even know how to do that.
“You ran away from us another time and you can’t give me an explanation?”
“I’m scared, okay? What’s between us is… is not going where I planned it to go and it’s becoming so much. I just don’t know what to do,” you try to explain, trying to keep your composure and don’t shake like a leaf.
Haechan scoffs in disbelief, but the truth is that he’s feeling an abnormal amount of pain just looking into your eyes. “What’s there to know? I thought we were fine. I… I came back to you as if nothing happened, as if you didn’t leave me without a word. I hurt an innocent person all because I wanted to be with you, in any way, I don’t care. I didn’t even want apologies or anything, I just wanted you and I thought we were doing fine but to you, fine is never enough.”
“It was enough, it is. I — I think it’s too much. I don’t know how to deal with this. With you,” you reason, and it’s hard to look into his eyes when you can see all the pain you’re causing.
“I thought…” he stops, backtracking on his own words because none of this makes sense. You never show signs of discomfort when you’re together, you used to bicker much more at the start than now, so your words sound crazy to his ears. “Why can’t you tell me this when I do things that are too much for you?”
“Because they aren’t too much when they happen. I like what we have.”
“Then why do you run away?” He can’t keep his voice low, and those words come out in a scream full of bitter incredulity.
You break into a cry, but you immediately stop yourself, forcing the tears back in your eyes and the sobs down your throat. Once again you can’t give him an answer, just a useless apology. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, keeping eye contact no matter how much it hurts because you need him to know you’re being honest, you’re not lying or putting up walls. It’s just hard to tear down the ones you already have built around yourself.
“No, you’re not,” he retorts, voice lower. “It happened twice, Jesus Christ, twice. You can go back to your ex, the one who treated you like shit, but you can’t at least warn me when you need some time alone.”
You shake your head, pressing your lips flat to hold in the cries. “I don’t need some time alone. I’m confused and overwhelmed.”
“By what?” Haechan urges again, nervously moving in small steps on the spot, feeling like he could explode at any minute.
“Everything. All of this is new to me and I… I’m trying to be a better person. I’m trying not to hurt the ones that I love, and don’t fuck everything up, but I can’t. Everything I touch becomes sick and dies and… and I don’t know what to do.”
Haechan is confused. He thought that what you had had never been better than this, so why is it so different for you? Why are your points of view so far from one another and distorted? Maybe that is the problem, after all, you are too different from each other, not compatible, and it will never work. “But I don’t get you, I’ve tried, I swear, I did, but it’s like — it’s like there’s a wall and I can’t get past it.”
You groan, throwing your head back, but you know that if it’s difficult for you to explain it must be ten times harder for him to understand. “It’s hard for me.”
“But why? I thought I was better than your ex, why are you pushing me away?” He knows he’s not perfect, but he’s never done anything to hurt you, moreover, he always tried everything to protect you and make you feel good, and that went beyond sex. He thought it was clear, but apparently, it was all to waste.
You’re short of words, struggling to come up with an answer. “Because, because, fuck, I’ve never felt like this before. You fucked me up in a way no one else ever did. It’s pathetic the way you make me weak. The way… the way my walls come crashing down when I’m with you.”
“Oh, really?” It’s a scoff, full of sarcasm, mockery and resentment and it’s even followed by a click of the tongue.
Your voice falters as tears break free from your eyes. Of course, he doesn’t believe you. Of course, he can’t know how much you showed of yourself, parts of you nobody else has ever seen. “They do. You simply don’t pry in, you don’t push me to my limits to make me let you in but the door for you is wide open. I feel… I’m vulnerable.” You stop, taking a deep breath. “When I’m with you, I’m vulnerable.”
Haechan shakes his head, thinking you can’t be serious. The only time you have been vulnerable was because of your ex, and the other times you opened up, well, he’s not so sure you told him anything true. “And yet I still don’t get you, and I’m starting to think I’ll never will because… you act like a child running away when nothing happens. What do you do when things go wrong?”
“I don’t know,” you cry, sliding down on the floor, covering your face with your closed fist. You don’t let things in your life go wrong, because they already went wrong years ago and you can’t even risk for a tragedy to happen again. That’s why you need rules, order, and peace. “I’ve never had something like, something like… this,” you confess, looking at him. “I’ve never had someone like you.” Haechan. The opposite of what you needed until now to survive. There were no rules with him, no order and no peace, but strangely enough, all his opposites didn’t bring you war. Yet, that doesn’t calm you, something about all of this feels like a bomb to you and he still doesn’t understand you.
The heavy sigh that comes from his lips makes you look away. “So, you run when things are good? Will you keep leaving me? Do I have to come running to you, looking for you, not knowing if you want me or if I should leave you space?”
“I don’t know.”
Haechan almost yells. “Stop saying that, it’s infuriating.”
“But I truly have no idea. I just told you. I could tell you about me, but why would you want to listen?”
“Because I love you?” He screams, jaw dropping as he realizes what he said. “Fuck, there, I said it, and I scared you away once and for all, but honestly, I can’t keep doing this any longer. I love you. I don’t know why but I guess I am dumb and always fall for the people I can’t have. But I do. And I would love to sit here and listen to you because, guess what, I want this to work out. Because that’s what normal people do. They talk and they listen. They don’t run away.”
“You — you love me?”
Haechan takes a deep breath, and a tear rolls down his eyes as he hums, nodding. “And you don’t have to say anything, I don’t care if you don’t love me back, but that’s why I hate when you act like this because you don’t let good things come at you in life, I might not be your happy event but…”
“But?”
“Grow up.”
Your breath gets stuck in your throat and more tears flood your face, blurring your view. Those words feel like a gunshot straight to your heart and you can’t believe you’re hearing them from him. You know that wasn’t his initial thought, but he doesn’t backtrack.
“Grow up because you need to learn how to deal with this shit, whatever it is, whatever is making you act like this. Excuses and apologies are not enough. You might not hurt people on purpose, but you still do and I…”
“No, please,” you scream when Haechan starts walking to the door swiftly, opening it before you can even make him out. “Don’t leave,” you cry, struggling to stand on your knees. “Don’t leave me, too.”
He stops and turns around gulping but shaking his head.
“I need to be alone,” his voice is broken and he’s clearly holding back tears, and you’d like to run in his arms and hug him, but, once again, the rational part of you is holding you back, so you let him go, like you let go every other person of your life, with the difference you didn’t care about them as you care about him.
“I can’t keep defending you,” Johnny confesses while he stares at your crying face. You called him sobbing, muttering a few words, but he didn’t need more to come rushing to you. He didn’t even need you to explain, he knew. Haechan had this over-dramatic way of reacting, posting sad Instagram stories with depressing and heart-wrenching songs, and everything led back to you. Also, he had told him he ‘broke’ everything with Wonyoung and Johnny saw how you two were close once again. So, you must’ve fucked it up once again and that was why you two were here.
“You don’t have to,” you weep, hiding your face in his chest, and wrapping your arms around his broad back, deeply hoping he would crash you with his arms and you would stop suffering for all your poor decisions.
“You can’t keep sabotaging yourself,” he says, caressing your scalp in circular motions, knowing that always makes you calm down. “I can’t keep seeing you like this.”
“I was never like this.”
Johnny sighs, “You might not cry but if you think that I don’t know your fucked up coping mechanism, you’re wrong. And we know well it’s not only about love. Everything good that happens in your life you have to turn into a curse. Why?”
“I don’t know.” You know it well, and weirdly it isn’t even in your power.
“You had an offer of a job you loved and you lost it all because you thought you were undeserving and played humble, and let’s not talk about the days before the interview you spent feeling sick because you thought you weren’t good enough for it.”
A broken sniffle rolls from your lips.
“Do we have to go back to the school years?”
“No, thanks.” You don’t need a reminder, the years of tears and stress that you doubled for the standards you set for yourself are still weighing on you, so you don’t want to go back there mentally.
“And love… why do you think you don’t deserve love?”
“I don’t think I don’t deserve it. I never felt something so strong and I’m afraid. What if… what if we’re both not ready to settle down and be serious with this? What if it will break my heart?”
Johnny chuckles, “And what if he’s the love of your life?”
“Oh,” you whisper, your heart speeding up just thinking about it. The long-term scared you, that was why you ran away. You love how you feel good when you’re with him, but you’re terrified it won’t last and once the spell expires you will be left in the ashes.
“The only certain things in life are taxes, if you’re not a rich asshole, and death, but everything else? It’s a shot in the dark. Don’t you think some risks are worth taking?”
“But it will hurt.”
“And isn’t it hurting already?”
“Oh.”
Johnny smiles, caressing your cheek. “Why are you so worried about the future? You can’t make it perfect. You can’t have control over everything, little bird.”
“Don’t call me little bird,” you say, emitting a sound mixed with a sniffle and a chuckle.
“You are. And you still didn’t learn how to fly. But if you don’t fly, how will you live?”
You sigh, rubbing your hands on your face before biting your nails nervously.
“Listen,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and gently whispering your name to make you look at him. “I know why you want to have control so badly. I know why you think that if you plan it all before, think about all the things that could go wrong, and torture yourself into thinking that you can have power over the wilderness of the world and destiny, nothing else will go wrong, but it’s not like this. We both know it.”
You sob louder, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, eyes dropping to the floor as guilt plunges your heart again. “I could’ve saved him.”
“No, you couldn’t have. Some things are just not in our power. I blamed myself too, so many times. But I swore to him I would’ve protected you over anything, and if that anything is yourself and your fears, I will protect you from you.”
You wish you could feel better at his words, but they only make more tears stream down your face. “If I didn’t call him, if I… if I had someone to come home with this wou—”
“It would’ve happened,” Johnny stops you. “You’re not that powerful, little bird. I’m sorry,” he chuckles, wiping your tears away. “None of us is. And it’s all about luck, and just occasionally about merits. So, if life sent Haechan to you, don’t make him slip away.”
“But every time I followed my instinct things went terribly, I feel like I carry so much bad luck around me sometimes.”
Johnny only hugs you for a while, caressing your back and lulling you in his arms. “When you were a kid and let the sea carry you too far away?”
“My father almost died.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Yes, but then… you know what happened.”
“And it wasn’t your fault. After that you never let emotions carry you, you never let someone deep into you because you think everyone could betray you, and unless you have everything written down you don’t do a thing. You hide it quite well, you almost seem normal from the outside.”
You laugh lightly and hug him tighter. You don’t feel better, but maybe he’s right, maybe this is your chance to change your life and stop living in fear.
“So, what do I do?”
“You let Haechan in, maybe explain something to him so he puts his mind at ease because I think that both Adele and Taylor Swift’s discographies are about to end, he seemed rather depressed in his stories.”
“And if it goes wrong?”
“At least you tried.”
A heavy sigh rolls from your lips as you stare blankly at the floor, nervously biting the inside of your cheeks and, once again, trying to think faster than life, maybe if you change your plans, it would count as if you still made them, right? Or maybe this time there is no plan, and it’s right like this.
“I only promised him one thing, and I’m not going to take my words back, little bird. He wanted you to live, to be free, and to be loved. On the way to you, he called me, ranting furiously about how he would’ve killed your stupid boyfriend if he saw him somewhere because nobody could hurt you. He only wanted someone that was right for you. I’m sure he would love Haechan, and who knows, maybe Hyuck is truly sent from above.”
When your closed fist crashes against Haechan’s front door to knock on it you feel like you could pass out. You keep torturing the inside of your cheeks, chewing the flesh nervously, while your right foot nervously bounces against the cold floor.
You slightly jump back when the door opens and your eyes meet with his.
“Who’s — Oh, it’s you,” he whispers and he almost sounds disappointed, you wouldn’t bet on it, but his eyes are not looking at you like they usually would and that makes you regret even more that you came.
“Can we talk?” Your voice is weak and hardly comes out, vocal cords shaking like your body. “No, we need to talk. Please,” you add to don’t sound too rude, it’s the last thing you can be, given the position you’re in.
Haechan sighs, rubbing his face and then moving to the side to let you in. The house is dark, the only light comes from outside, and dead quiet.
“Why are you here?” He questions, crossing his arms and watching as you’re about to sit on the sofa. You stop halfway and gulp, standing up again and clinging to your purse. “You can sit.”
You do, fixing your clothes and looking down at the floor.
“So? I don’t have all day,” he urges and the coldness of his voice is the tenth bad sign that’s screaming you shouldn’t do this.
“About us.”
Haechan chuckles, it’s a bitter laugh, trapped in the back of his throat while his eyes roll to the sky and his head shakes. “Us? Now you decided there’s an us?”
You bite your lower lip and clench your fists. “Please, just let me explain.”
“Sure, can’t wait to hear some other bullshit you’ll have to tell me before disappearing forever,” he says, sitting in front of you, and the distance feels unbearable. You had never seen him this cold, not even when you went back to the coastal town this winter.
“Listen, I’m here to talk like adults, okay? Can we please stop being childish and put the pride away for just an hour? Then I’ll leave if you want to.”
He hums, he’d love to add that he doesn’t want you to leave, but he keeps his mouth shut and waits for you to talk.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “For everything I did to you. Trying not to hurt myself I only hurt you and I didn’t want to.”
He babbles something under his breath, shaking his head, he can’t even be mad at you for long and he hates it.
“And I don’t want you to forgive me, but I think I owe you my honesty, and a bit more of me, you know…”
“You don’t have to.”
“No, I do, because you let me… you let me in. You talked about your family, about your struggles, how you moved here on your own and I said a few things and I even lied.”
Haechan’s face cannot be read, probably a fragment of stupor crosses it or maybe disappointment, but then he scoffs. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I didn’t — I didn’t think we would ever get here,” you confess. “You were supposed to be just sex, Haechan. To be honest, I didn’t even want you to be that. Johnny dragged me to that bar and here we are.”
He gulps, moving his eyes up and down your figure, and then takes a deep breath. “We don’t have to be anything, I just wish you wouldn’t cut me off like this all the time because it hurts. I care about you and the idea of hurting you, even involuntarily, kills me. It’s pathetic, I know, but…” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “but it’s the truth.”
Your heart jumps and you can’t believe his words. So is this how it feels when the person you love the most is about to give you up? “But I do.”
“What?”
“I — I…” you choke up on your words, fighting the tears back. “I want to — I don’t know why it is so hard.” No, you know why, because the last time the words ‘I love you’ slipped from your lips you were bent on a deathbed, beginning your other half to stay alive, to don’t leave you in the madness of the world at fifteen, promising him from then on you were going to listen, to stay in track and never break a rule, but it was all in vain. And now confessing that something as strong as love ties you to someone that wasn’t in your life since forever makes you shit yourself.
“You don’t have to fake it if you don’t feel anything. I know I crossed a line, I know what our rules were and I’m aware I broke them so no, I won’t blame you if I lose you,” Haechan says, stopping probably to gather the courage to add the last words, “I know I already did.”
“No, you didn’t,” you say. “Let me talk, please?”
Haechan’s not sure, taking time to consider his options, but then nods, humming lowly. This might be the last time he has you like this, if he didn’t listen to you now, he would’ve regretted it forever, staying up at night thinking about what you had to say.
“Remember when I told you about Johnny and my brother?” Haechan nods, even if he doesn’t get its correlation with you two. “I lied. They never fought; my brother died,” your voice falters as it comes out to give him such a big piece of you. You take a deep breath and then exhale, “It was all my fault.”
“What?” He blurts out, eyes wide and mouth open. “I mean, I’m sorry, God, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that but… I…”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s alright, I would’ve reacted the same way if you pretended your brother was alive and well.”
“It didn’t happen recently, right?” He’s afraid all this time you left, it was because of that, maybe you were going through a loss and he wasn’t by your side.
You shake your head, playing with your fingers. “I was fifteen, and he was only twenty.”
He mentally takes a breath of relief knowing it was in the past, but he doesn’t feel any better, it’s clear it’s still hard for you to talk about it even if seven years went by. “But… unless you didn’t kill him, how can it be your fault?”
“If only I didn’t call him, if only I listened to my parents and never… never dated him or went on that trip, my brother would be here today.”
Haechan tries to talk but you stop him. “But that’s not why I talked to you about this, I mean, I still have to talk to you about this. I hope it can make you understand why… why I’m like this.”
The man in front of you swallows, and you can read it in his eyes he’s not so sure anymore he wants to dive deep into you, but it’s the only way he can at least try to forgive you.
“I know it sounds crazy but, when I was a child, I was reckless and only trusted my instincts. I loved living to the fullest, you know? I always tried new things and nothing really scared me. I was like this even with people, I always saw their good, but sometimes the good never even existed.”
Haechan doesn’t talk, he only looks at you, listening attentively. And that makes you relax a bit, that was one of his thousand virtues, he always listened and emitted this sense of calm.
“I was like this even as a teenager when I didn’t know men are shit since the day they are born.”
“Fair,” he agrees.
“I’m sorry, like, some of you are just terrible and when I was fourteen I fell for the worst one, but I couldn’t see it. I’ve never been a loser, not in a cliché way, but he seemed so cool in my eyes. He was pretty, popular, funny, for the broken humour of fourteen years old me, and he could do so much more than I could and I was in love, not really looking back at it now, and jealous.”
“I guess he was older?”
“He was, he turned seventeen when I turned fifteen and we weren’t together until then, but I was… a child at heart. I didn’t feel ready to try a lot of new things and he always pressured me into them. My parents didn’t like him, but I was headstrong and didn’t listen. Anyway, we dated for a while and everything was fine, until one day he asked me to go camping with his friends. I was so happy, it was my first night out with people I wasn’t super close with and we were under the sky, in my mind it was going to be the most romantic night of my life until it turned into a nightmare. My parents didn’t want me to go, so I had a fight with them and my brother took my defences, saying that I had to make my first experiences and if something happened I could always call home, so they gave up. But I was still mad at them and didn’t want to call them when things went wrong, proving they were right would’ve killed my pride, so I called my brother. I knew he would’ve never said anything to me.”
“Did he… force you?”
You shake your head. “No, but they were doing drugs and mixing it with alcohol and I was afraid, I only knew him and two other girls, but never was in touch with his friends and they were all starting to get too violent, and I didn’t like the jokes, the jokes about me. They started mocking me, for being too naïve, and pure and he didn’t say a word to defend me, he even laughed with them, straight to my face. And then the alcohol made him confess he hated how we still hadn’t fuck because I wasn’t ready, and after that, I snapped. I was terrified he was going to find a way to make it happen somehow that night and I didn’t want to be there. I had nobody to defend me and I couldn’t stay there. So I grabbed my things while fighting with him and ran away, in the middle of the wood, crying and heartbroken…”
“So you called your brother?”
You nod, wiping away the tears. “He came rushing, and he wanted to address them but I just wanted to go home, technically to Johnny’s place, I didn’t want to see my parents and we had this plan we would’ve kept it a secret from them.”
“So you were already friends with Johnny?”
You nod. “We’ve always been, that’s why I tell you that I could never be attracted to him, he has always been like my second older brother, and now he’s the only one I have left.”
“You don’t have to go on…” Haechan says, seeing how much you’re shaking and how weak your voice is.
“No, I do, I need to. I trust you,” you confess, and the beam behind his eyes dims your tension. “We were driving to Johnny’s place, it was late at night and it also started raining. I know it would’ve happened even if he wasn’t mad because we were in the right, he was driving well, but if only I didn’t call him up he would’ve been at home and not in that damn crossroad.” You can’t go on and you lower your head while you try to gather your thoughts and stop your body from shaking. You feel Haechan’s hand reach yours and you hold it tight after the sofa hollows as he sits next to you.
“The last thing I remember is his hand on my thigh while he caressed my hand to calm me down, and the static, deafening sound in my ear of the crush, the pain and his hand slipping away.”
“So, you were there?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “He didn’t die on the spot, he suffered for like a week, he even woke up, barely had time to talk one last time to all of us and then his heart had a failure and they couldn’t save him.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, contemplating hugging you but it feels out of place, so he only keeps caressing your hand. “And you?”
“Broken leg, broken arm, a minor brain trauma and something else but I’m still here, and he’s not. And why? Because I decided to follow my dumb heart.”
Haechan feels out of place but after what you heard he can’t keep quiet. “I… I think he loved you too much to blame you for something that wasn’t in your power.”
“I know, I swear. I went to therapy, and I know it’s not my fault, I accepted his death and I know he would’ve thrown himself in the flames for me, but I can’t let go of this fear in my everyday life. Not having control drives me crazy and with you, I lost it so soon, it never happened before.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Haechan confesses, he’s still holding your hand because it feels like the only thing he can do. But other than that? He can’t protect you from your fears and he doesn’t know how to give some control into your hands, it’s not in his power either.
“I love you,” you confess, looking into his eyes and he freezes, the hold on your palm loosening. “And that’s the shitties confession ever, and I’m so sorry I just finished trauma dumping you, but I… I can’t keep losing good things in life because I’m afraid of taking risks. I can’t erase you, I’ve tried, but I can’t.”
Haechan’s mouth is wide and he’s not sure if he went completely insane or if those words came out of your mouth for real.
“I can’t move on from you. And I don’t need all the big answers I was searching for to give this a reason, I love you, it’s simple as that.”
“I…” he tries to answer you, but he feels his heart racing and head spinning, you just said you love him, twice.
You stand up and start walking back and forth. “I’ve never been so honest, but I can’t stop thinking of you, dreaming of you, even. And I can’t believe I love being with you so much. God, you were supposed to be just a one-night stand and here we are, you washed over me like a rouge wave and...” you chuckle, eyes glistening as happy tears wet them “... I can’t even care if it made me drown. I love you too much to care about what will happen, to worry about something that might not even happen. But even if it will, even if life will ever tear us away, I want to live in the present, I want to kiss you in front of our friends, I want to hold hands when you pick me up from work, I want to sing with you in the car as we drive to our favorite place, I want to wake up next to you and don’t have to sneak out like a thief. I want to leave my toothbrush at your place, next to yours, right where it belongs.”
You can’t read his expression, your heart dares to say he’s happy, surely shocked and probably thrilled, but your brain is still the annoying douchebag that makes you feel he doesn’t want you back.
“And I know I’m hard to be with but if you want me, if you feel like you can take me for who I am, I promise that I won’t disappear ever again and I will let you in.”
Haechan chuckles and then raises his head to smile at you. “You are the wildest rollercoaster I’ve ever been on, you know?” You hum, smiling sadly. “But I can’t get off.” Your eyes light up at his words and your heart starts beating again as if it has been brought back to life.
“So you don’t hate me?”
He shakes his head, standing up to be face to face. “I don’t think I can.”
Your smile lights up the room, and Haechan leans closer. “So, can I kiss you or are we breaking another rule?”
You chuckle. “We are. I think this is the only one we never broke, we never kissed outside of sex.”
“Oh, so this one has to be special…” he caresses your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, rubbing your skin with his thumb and then leans in, “…to us?”
You smile, gulping before moving closer, leaving only a few millimetres between you. “To us.” When your lips meet it feels like a patch being put on your broken wings. It’s soft, and there’s still a lot of fear in your shaking hands and lips, but it feels like floating in the sky. You know it’s going to be hard for the both of you, he has his skeletons just like you have yours, but this feels right. This feels like the place where you have to be. In his arms, hanging from his lips.
Haechan hits different. Haechan is like a high-speed train and a bullet to the heart. Haechan is like jumping in the void with no parachute on hoping wings will grow from your back to keep you floating. But it’s good and it makes you feel alive, a feeling you’re now sure you had forgotten a long time ago.
And maybe, after all, you have to thank Johnny for this.
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