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onlymingyus · 12 days

Text

Guilty

pairing; kwon soonyoung x f reader / lee jihoon x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, toxic, fluff

summary; you and soonyoung learn that the storm can only be weathered for so long before you need a lift raft to hold on to. but what happens when neither of you reach for each other in that storm?

warnings; cheating, toxic relationship dynamics, car accident, injuries, hospital, arguing, eating/drinking, pet names, crying (from pleasure and sadness), unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving/giving), fingering, marking/biting, impact, dom!jihoon, dirty talk, less than ideal sexual experiences, i mean...there is just a lot -- i probably missed something.

w/c; 23.6k

a/n; thank you so so much to my @onlyhuis for proofreading and being my rock while i wrote this bitch. this one was out of my comfort zone but i really wanted to try to dive into angst and something a bit more toxic with my plot. i hope you enjoy it.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

3 missed calls from Soonyoung❣️

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you sigh at the notification on your lock screen, thinking about the number of times you had tried to call him the day before only to get his voicemail. You think about the number of text messages that you have sent as you unlock your screen, looking at the four messages waiting for you.

When Soonyoung told you about his job opportunity, you were excited for him. Dancing was his life and his biggest passion, with teaching coming in as a close second. The main drawback of the job offer was that he would be gone for a year and be in another country.

Promises had been made to one another in an attempt to make the distance easier. You both promised to visit when you could and to keep in touch every single day. Things were easier said than done, it would seem.

Soonyoung ❣️: I got in late.

Soonyoung ❣️: I know you are going to be mad at me.

Soonyoung ❣️: Call me when you wake up

Soonyoung ❣️: Love you

You sigh, laying your phone down next to you after reading over the messages. Lately, they were all starting to look the same. There was always a “I got in late” message waiting for you and a “call me when you wake up" message waiting for you after a day of trying to keep in touch on your part. You knew he was working hard, but so were you.

Sliding out of bed, your phone in tow, you leave it on the counter as you turn on the shower, letting the bathroom fill up with steam. It wasn’t like Soonyoung would know the exact moment you woke up anyway. He barely remembered the local time anymore, much less your schedule. He had made you wait. Now he could wait.

Soonyoung knew he should be asleep. He had to wake up early to get to the studio but he was staring at his phone and hoping you would call him. He had checked the time back home at least five times and it was a Tuesday, which meant you had to get ready for work soon.

Sighing loudly, Soonyoung scrolls back through the text messages that he had missed from you throughout the day. He hadn’t meant to ignore you; he never did. Time wasn’t his greatest ally lately and long days had turned into even longer nights.

Y/N 😘: Hope you are having a good day babe

Y/N 😘: Missing you

Y/N 😘: Hope class has gone well. You are amazing ❣️

Y/N 😘: I’m going to bed

Y/N 😘: Hope I get to talk to you tomorrow. I love you

Kicking his legs out from under the covers, Soonyoung knocks his head back against the headboard. He groans under his breath as he gives in to his impatience, pressing down on your name and placing the phone up to his ear to listen to it ring. One ring, two rings, a third, and then your sweet voice tells him that you can’t come to the phone. Were you ignoring him?

The sound of your ringtone makes you furrow your brows, your eyes closed, as water runs down your face towards your lips. You were almost done with your shower but you were almost certain you weren’t hearing things, especially when your phone rings for a second time. Wiping the water from your face, you rush to get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you, just as the second call from Soonyoung goes unanswered.

He had begun to turn over, a scowl on his face, when his phone lit up with a picture of your face. Staring at his phone for a few seconds, Soonyoung presses his tongue against his cheek before finally answering.

“Hello?”

You could hear the disappointment in Soonyoung’s voice and for a split second, you felt a pang of guilt. You forget about the number of calls that went unanswered the day before as you lean against the counter with a frown on your face.

“Hey, sorry, I was in the shower.”

Shrugging, Soonyoung also seems to forget how bad he felt about missing your calls and not responding to your text until late. Instead, he just thinks about himself and what he is feeling at the moment: frustration.

“Yeah, well, I asked for you to call me when you woke up, but I guess you didn’t check your phone.”

Looking down as water drips onto the tile, you feel Soonyoung’s words eat at your heart until you remember waking up and seeing your own messages from the day before. You remember listening to his voicemail time and time again, as you hoped he would pick up the phone even for a moment to say something to you.

“I did check it.”

Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung is taken aback by your sudden shift in attitude towards him. He had expected an apology and maybe your sweet, comforting voice to lull him to sleep but clearly that wasn’t happening.

“Oh? So you chose to ignore my messages and calls?”

“Like you chose to ignore mine, Soonyoung? Seriously…”

Your voice trails off as tears begin to well up in your eyes. There had been too many days recently that had started much like this one. You wanted to talk to your boyfriend and tell him how much you missed him, how much you loved him, and how proud of him you were that he was living his dream, but instead the two of you ended up in an argument.

Swallowing hard, Soonyoung closes his eyes as he sits up in his bed, running his fingers through his hair and listening to the sounds of your breath through the phone. He could tell you were crying. He had heard it enough times over the phone at this point to know exactly what it sounded like.

Now he was remembering seeing his phone light up throughout the day and checking it to see another missed call or text message from you. He remembered promising himself to call you back on the next break, only to get into a conversation with someone and lose track of time.

Shaking his head, Soonyoung hears a soft sob over the phone as he looks out of his window at the dark skyline of the city, knowing the sun was still rising where you were. He would give anything to be there with you now, to be able to hold you and to make this better but instead he was on the other side of the world and it felt like he might as well be on another planet.

“I’m sorry, baby. I–look, I don’t know what is wrong with me. It was a long day and when you didn’t answer my brain, just–” Shaking his head, Soonyoung stops to take a breath, deciding to stop giving you excuses. “I’m so fucking sorry. I love you so much.”

This was the part when you would normally fold and tell him how much you loved him and forgive him. You always forgave Soonyoung because he was working so hard and you knew it was important but you were starting to feel like you were less important. Wiping your cheek with your free hand, you shake your head and bite at your bottom lip as Soonyoung whines your name when you don’t speak to him right away.

“I have to get ready for work. I love you too. I hope you get some sleep.”

Closing his eyes, Soonyoung lets out a breath, feeling his heart sink at your words. You hadn’t accepted his apology and you hadn’t wanted to hear his excuses. You just wanted off the phone, and at this point, he couldn’t blame you.

“I–yeah, sure. Have a good day, babe.”

The sound of the call ending before you even say goodbye is what stuns Soonyoung the most. Dropping the phone into his lap, he stares at it for a moment, your picture looking at him from his lockscreen before the display goes dark.

Jihoon: Pizza?

You hadn’t been home long when the sound of a text message drew your attention to your phone. In truth, you had been avoiding your phone for most of the afternoon, knowing that Soonyoung was awake and at work. He had already been trying to make up for the day before by overcompensating and there was only so much that you could handle.

Seeing the text message from his best friend, however, was a welcomed change. You knew there was a reason behind it. When you hadn’t answered him, Soonyoung had probably called Jihoon and begged him to check in on you, like he had started to do more often, but you didn’t mind it.

Y/N: Only if you bring ice cream too.

Jihoon smirks a bit to himself after seeing your response. He knew you would agree to dinner and he had a good idea that you’d want ice cream after the conversation he had had with Soonyoung about an hour prior. He knew that you two had gotten into an argument. That had started to become a routine and now this was becoming his; dinner and a dessert for you.

You had always gotten along with your boyfriend’s best friend but since Soonyoung had taken the job and been gone for so long, Jihoon had become a rock in your life. You had become increasingly grateful to him, even if it was Soonyoung’s idea that he kept showing up with food and to be a shoulder to cry on.

Offering you a half smile, Jihoon lifts the bag with the ice cream with one hand as he holds the pizza box with the other when you open the door. Your smile causes him to take a breath and for his smile to become a full one when you take the bag from him, ushering him inside.

While Jihoon was happy to do this for you and Soonyoung, there was a part of him that found this more difficult every time. He was starting to love seeing that look on your face when you saw him—the way he could make your face light back up.

“Come in. Sorry…the place is a wreck and I already changed into my pajamas. I literally can’t find a fuck to give today.”

Moving into your place with you, Jihoon’s eyes move over your back and down your legs, just under your shorts, before he pulls them away out of respect with a sharp breath. Shaking his head, he looks around with a shrug before setting down the pizza on the coffee table as you move into the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer.

“Your place looks lived in, Y/N, and you look fine. Making me wish I was in my pajamas, or that I looked half as good in mine.”

Closing the door to your freezer, you pause at Jihoon’s compliment, feeling your cheeks starting to heat up. You didn’t mind it—the feeling of someone telling you that you looked good. It had been so long since Soonyoung had been home that you forgot what it was like to have someone compliment you like that, even if it was something so innocent.

Jihoon curses himself under his breath, sitting down on your couch, at his forwardness. He never wanted to really cross a line. He knew who you were and he knew who he was; just lately, it was getting harder to really remember it.

“Thanks, Jihoon, I’m sure you look very cute in your pajamas. Ya know, for the record.”

You smile at Jihoon and he has to look down at his hands as he chuckles, trying to play off your words as if they don’t have any effect on him. He knew you weren’t actually flirting with him; that was a ridiculous passing thought in his mind, but god, sometimes he wished you weren’t Soonyoung’s. The moment the thought even comes to him, Jihoon clenches his fists and then stretches out his fingers to distract himself from it.

“Mm, how was your day?” Swallowing hard, Jihoon glances up at you as he opens the top of the pizza box, gesturing towards it as you move around to sit next to him, closer than you had on other nights. “Eat. Don't let it get cold.”

Taking a slice of the pizza, you pout at it before taking a small bite, letting the warmth of food and good company wash over you. You had heard Jihoon’s question, but it was a loaded one. Sighing, you furrow your brows as Jihoon swallows his own bite of pizza, glancing over at you with a concerned look on his face.

“It was a bad one, Jihoon. I know that wasn’t really your question, but I’m not stupid. I know he called you and asked you to come over.”

You shake your head and put your pizza back into the box. Jihoon frowns and does the same, watching pensively as you wipe your fingers on the end of your nightshirt, unwilling to put effort into getting up to get a napkin.

“I–well yeah, he did, but I wanted to bring you some dinner. We could talk about it, you know if you want to.”

Jihoon watches as you furrow your brows and lean back on the couch, pulling your legs up under you. It hadn’t been his intention to upset you or bring up the argument; he had wanted to help distract you, but maybe you did need to get through this before you could move on with your night.

Glancing at your phone as it lights up again with another text message from Soonyoung, you shrug hearing Jihoon’s phone go off a moment later.

“It’s just really funny to me that he can ignore me all day and then act like I am supposed to be at his beck and call.” You swallow back your tears as you look down at your hands, pushing the ring on your index finger around so that the stone is facing your palm. “I love him, Jihoon, but right now I can’t stand him. I feel like I don’t know who he is anymore. I don’t know the person I talked to this morning.”

Jihoon fights the urge to look at his phone, feeling it go off again in his jacket pocket. Instead, he listens to you intently as he sees the tears rising in your eyes. His eyes fall to the ring on your finger and he remembers helping Soonyoung pick it out before he left for Tokyo and how he had suggested the cut of the stone.

Swallowing hard, Jihoon shifts on the couch to face you. He keeps his hands to himself, trying to be as respectful as possible, although all he wants to do is offer you more comfort when he sees the first tear trail down your cheek.

“Look, I could go the best friend route and give you the excuses but I’m not going to do it. I know he’s busy but I’m also not there.” Meeting your eyes, Jihoon tightens his hand on his knee, listening to you sniffle back your tears as he tilts his head. “I know he cares about you, he told me today. If I could make this better, Y/N, I would.”

Those weren’t the exact words that Jihoon had meant to use, but those were the words that had come out of his mouth. They weren’t a lie, because if there was a way that he could make it better for you, he would. If there was a way that Jihoon could make you happy, he would. Seeing you cry and upset was breaking his heart in ways that he couldn’t even explain or justify.

You can’t help but let out an unamused laugh under your breath at Jihoon's words. not for everything, because you knew he was trying to help, but you couldn't help but be cynical about the whole situation. Fingers wrapping around yours as tears drip from your cheeks is what breaks you and you finally meet Jihoon’s eyes once again.

“Nothing can make this better. I’m completely alone.”

Holding your hand tighter, Jihoon sighs, sliding even closer to you before lifting your hand to show yours in his as he shakes his head.

“You aren’t. I’m right here.”

Your eyes slowly move over his fingers, delicately holding yours, and more tears fall from your eyes as you try to work through how it makes you feel. It’s overwhelming to have someone right beside you, their skin against yours, their eyes on you. The feeling makes you want more and you feel selfish but it’s a moment of weakness.

Sliding on the couch, you move against Jihoon so that your cheek ends up against his chest. A surprised breath escapes from his lips before he finally moves to wrap his arms around you, holding you to him like you want him to. He can feel the tears starting to soak through his shirt but he can’t seem to find a reason to care as your fingers cling to his jacket and you sob quietly.

Jihoon had hugged you before, but this was more than a hug. This was almost intimate as the moments passed and you started to calm down, only to stay in his arms even as he shifted to lay down on the couch, letting you rest on top of him.

Lifting a shaky hand, Jihoon carefully ran it over your head, listening to you whine softly and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. He knew he had overstayed his welcome and he knew he should leave but that would mean he would have to tell you to move and that would mean he wouldn’t have you in his arms. He was selfish. What would Soonyoung do if he walked in the door right now?

Pushing the thought of his best friend from his mind, Jihoon closes his eyes when you shift against him and you mutter his name, wrapping your fingers around his shirt and holding him to you. Your lips smack cutely and a soft snore tells Jihoon that you have in fact fallen asleep. Any plan to wake you at that point leaves him with the sound of his name on your tired lips.

By the time you wake up Jihoon is gone and you have been placed in your bed. Furrowing your brows, you look around your dark room, confused, before glancing towards your nightstand to see where your phone is plugged up. He had done so much while you slept and not even woke you to say goodbye.

Picking up your phone, you wince at the brightness of the screen, only to frown at the number of missed calls and text messages from Soonyoung. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring him the entire day and it didn’t help that you were missing his voice. You start to click on his name to read over the messages when two from Jihoon make you pause and check them first.

Jihoon: I hope you don’t get upset that I put you in your bed. The couch is comfortable but your bed looked better

Jihoon: I’m sorry if I overstepped tonight. Just can’t let you cry like that

Furrowing your brows, you swallow hard, thinking back to how it felt to be held and how safe you felt— even for just a little while.

Y/N: You don’t have anything to apologize for. Thank you for dealing with my bullshit. Sleep well, Hoonie

You wait for a moment, hoping that Jihoon will write you back, but it was asking a lot for him to be awake at 1:26 am. Soonyoung, on the other hand, would be well into his work day. Scrolling over to the clock you have set for his timezone, you let out a slow exhale, reading 5:26 pm, before checking your messages from him.

Soonyoung ❣️: I love you so much

Soonyoung ❣️: Please don’t ignore me

Soonyoung ❣️: I’m going to work but I’ll keep my phone ringer on

Soonyoung ❣️: Could you please answer your phone

Soonyoung ❣️: Don’t you think this is a little childish?

Soonyoung ❣️: I’m sorry. Did Jihoon bring over some food?

Soonyoung ❣️: I’m assuming you fell asleep. Really fucking wish you would have talked to me today. Don’t really think I deserved the silent treatment. It hurts, Y/N…

His messages had ranged from hurt to angry and everything in between, and now you were feeling the same as tears gathered in your eyes once again. Two of his messages, in particular, sticking out and making your heart tighten to the point where your stomach felt queasy. ‘Don’t you think this is a little childish?’ and ‘It hurts, Y/N…’ He had no idea how much it hurt you.

Wiping your cheeks, you tap his name on your phone with more force than is necessary, putting it to your ear as you pull your knees towards your stomach. It only takes two rings before Soonyoung picks up, sounding out of breath.

“Hello?”

In truth, Soonyoung had started to give up hope that you were going to call him but he hadn’t lied when he told you that he kept his ringer on. Hearing it ring, he had immediately sent everyone on a five minute break and answered you, leaning over to rest his free hand on his thigh, trying to catch his breath.

“Hi.”

He had hoped for more than that but he’d take what he could get right now. Your voice brings a smile to his face as Soonyoung reaches for his water bottle, taking a sip. Sliding down the mirrored wall, he leans his head back against it and sighs into the phone, finally feeling a bit less stressed.

“I’m glad you called, babe. I can’t stay on the phone long, but I’d like to —”

“It’s whatever…”

Taking a deep breath at your interruption, Soonyoung closes his eyes because he can hear the tears in your voice.

“I mean, no, it’s not. If you’d let me finish? Fuck, Y/N… First, you ignored me all damn day and now I can’t —”

Biting his bottom lip, Soonyoung stops himself hearing you take a sharp breath. He had started to go off on you but he knew it was because he was wound up. Yes he was upset at you but now wasn’t the time to fight.

“Baby…I was going to say that even though I can’t talk long right now, I’d like to talk soon. I wanna really talk. Maybe we could facetime? I wanna see your pretty face.”

Soonyoung was giving you whiplash and it was almost too much to handle. You loved him so much but it was hard to go from one extreme to another with no way to touch him or to have his arms around you.

“I’m just really tired, Soonie. Can I just go to bed?”

You weren’t lying. You were exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically. His words were like rocks being added to a growing pile in your arms, pushing you deeper and deeper into a pit that you weren’t sure how to climb out of.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Soonyoung knocks his head back against the mirror at your request while you also leave his question up in the air. He wasn’t sure how late it was for you but he had to assume it was late and he could hear the exhaustion and emotion in your voice.

“Yeah…course, babe. I love you.”

Looking out into your moonlit room, you find yourself staring at the picture of you and Soonyoung on your dresser with little to no emotion as you speak before hanging up your phone.

“Love you too, bye.”

Soonyoung had heard you say that you loved him hundreds, possibly thousands, of times over the span of your relationship and he had never heard it sound like that. He had never heard it said in such a way that it almost broke his heart. Letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, Soonyoung looks up when the pretty girl speaks to him again, a concerned look on her face.

“You ok, Soonyoung?”

Nodding, he puts on a smile and moves to his feet, causing her to take a step back to watch him as he puts his phone on silent.

“Course I am, Aimi. Once everyone is back, we can run it from the chorus again.”

Aimi grins at Soonyoung and his smile becomes genuine as he watches her take a step backwards on the wood floor.

“‘Kay…hey, you wanna get drinks later?”

When Soonyoung looks confused, Aimi laughs and lifts her hands, biting at her pretty lips that he can’t help but look at.

“With me and a few of the dance team, of course.”

Shrugging, Soonyoung glances down at his phone, tossing it up in the air and catching it before putting it on the table next to his water bottle. What could it hurt? Drinks with a few of his students, especially when the view would be nice for just a little while. Offering Aimi a grin, Sonyoung nods before leaning to pick up a towel and putting it around his neck as he watches him carefully, her eyes carefully moving over his exposed arms before moving back to his face.

“Sure, sounds like fun.”

“She just doesn’t answer my calls much anymore. I dunno what the fuck I’m supposed to do, man.”

Soonyoung sighs, using his shoulder to keep his phone against his ear as he pulls his jacket from the closet, causing the unused hangers to clang together. On the other side of the phone, Jihoon leans back in his chair, rocking his head side to side to move his blond bangs out of his eyes. He lets out a breath as he pushes his mouse across his computer screen and dragging levels up and down in the music editing program by eye and muscle memory.

“I don’t know. It’s not my place to —”

“Couldn’t you just... I dunno, talk to her? Get her to listen to reason? You are so good at that.”

Leaning his head back, Jihoon rolls his eyes as he pushes the mouse away from him out of annoyance. This wasn’t his job and he didn’t want to lie to you or tell you that it would all get better when clearly there was something going on that he couldn’t fix.

“I’m not a fucking relationship therapist, Soonyoung.”

Swallowing hard, Soonyoung stops just outside of his temporary apartment, hearing the anger in Jihoon’s voice. That hadn’t been the intention; he just wanted someone at bat for him, someone at home, to be in his corner for once.

“I’m sorry, man... I’m not saying that. You’ve been nothing but helpful. You know, taking Y/N meals and watching out for her... I really appreciate it.”

All of the things that Soonyoung was bringing up were things that Jihoon was happy to do for you. Maybe at first they were a little tedious but as time had gone by, days had turned to weeks, and weeks now to months—they were part of his life as much as you were.

“It’s fine. Uh… Look, okay? I’ll try to talk to Y/N and see if I can get her to give you a call when I take her something to eat tonight.”

The sounds of traffic make Soonyoung wonder if he had heard Jihoon wrong but he knew he hadn’t. Rubbing his lips together, Soonyoung nods as he furrows his brows, a bit of strain evident in his voice.

“You’re gonna take her something to eat again tonight? Is that like, a common thing now? I just—yeah, I dunno, I figured it was every once in a while.”

Shifting in his chair, Jihoon feels the apprehension in Soonyoung’s words. He knew that he should feel bad for how often he was spending time at your place but after holding you as you cried yourself to sleep, Jihoon couldn’t.

“It’s pretty often. She’s lonely, Soonyoung. You are on the other side of the world. You’re the one who asked me to do it in the first place.”

Soonyoung could feel the way his stomach was twisting with jealousy and something else he couldn’t quite name. Jihoon wasn’t wrong; he had asked him to do it, but he didn’t think he would be spending so many evenings hanging out with his girlfriend. He also didn’t really need his best friend to remind him of the distance between him and his girlfriend. The distance was very apparent and it was eating him alive.

“Yeah, I know I did. I don’t need you to tell me how lonely she is. I’m fucking lonely too.” With his feet hitting the steps to the studio hard as he pouts into his words, “I wish I was at home. I wish I had never fuckin’ taken this job.”

Running his fingers over his hair, Jihoon can’t help the way Soonyoung’s words hit him and made him feel bad for a split second. He couldn’t really understand the pain that his friend was feeling but it was obvious that he was suffering. Being with you almost every day, Jihoon saw your pain but today was the first time he had really heard Soonyoung’s, and even so, it didn’t make up for your tears.

“Then maybe you should fucking tell her that.”

You were pouting into your pint of ice cream as Jihoon watched you, finishing the last of his pasta. He had already tried to give you the “but Soonyoung just wants to talk to you; maybe you should call him tonight” talk and now you were being quiet. It wasn’t like you hadn’t sent Soonyoung texts throughout the day; you just hadn’t answered his phone calls or made any special effort to call him like you normally would.

“The ice cream was meant to cheer you up.”

Lifting your eyes to Jihoon, you stab your spoon into your softening ice cream, making him wince at the sudden action. Clearly, you were upset at him, though he wasn’t sure that was entirely fair. He had just done what Soonyoung had asked of him and now it was biting him in the ass.

Sighing, Jihoon puts his plate down on the coffee table before leaning forward to lift his hands as if to say he is surrendering. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend the evening with you. He enjoyed the evenings when the two of you would sit close on the couch. You’d turn on one of your silly trash reality shows and he’d let you try to explain who was fucking who and who was cheating on who. In reality, he was just enjoying your company—more than he should.

“I’m sorry. I promised Soonyoung that I would try to put in a good word for him, but I can’t stand the idea that you might spoon me to death like your ice cream.”

You wanted to stay mad at Jihoon, but he made it difficult. You had started to trust him not to just take Soonyoung’s side because he was asked to but clearly everyone had their limit. It was already asking a lot of Jihoon to keep you company like he was, so adding ‘taking your side in the arguments’ was asking maybe too much.

“I don’t wanna talk to him right now, Jihoon. He has said something to me that I never thought—” Shaking your head, you pull your spoon free from your ice cream with a bit of a sad laugh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault. You’ve kept me sane.”

Your words go right to Jihoon’s heart, causing him to have to look away in fear of how he might react. That was a big role to take in your life and he knew that when it came to you, he was taking it seriously. Jihoon knew he should feel bad for how he started to feel about you but as long as he kept those feelings to himself, they wouldn’t matter.

“Uh—well I… You shouldn’t have to go through all this shit alone. I got tired of seeing you so lonely.”

Furrowing your brows, you watch Jihoon speak and how he looks down at his hands. You had known him for a long time, but over the past few months, you had gotten to know him almost as well as you knew Soonyoung. There were tells in his mannerisms and it was almost like playing poker with him. You could tell when he wasn’t telling you everything.

“I am lonely, Hoonie. You have helped me through a lot.” Sighing, you lean towards the coffee table to put your ice cream down before looking back over to Jihoon to meet his cautious eyes. “The food is nice but just having you here has been the best. Like last night, I really needed that.”

You watch as Jihoon lifts his hand to run his fingers over his hair with a long sigh. Something was on his mind but he just wasn’t saying it. Tilting your head, you scoot closer to him and Jihoon laughs under his breath before you hear what sounds like a curse. Did he not want you to be close to him anymore?

“I–I’m happy to help, Y/N. Last night, you said I didn’t overstep, but — fuck…”

Meeting your eyes, Jihoon’s words die on his tongue. He knows he can’t disappoint you. Not when you look so sad and vulnerable. Not when you are so fucking pretty and looking at him like he is a buoy in the middle of a vast ocean. You let out a soft whine and Jihoon’s eyes fell to your lips just once before he winced and leaned forward to brush his against yours, not wanting you to feel so alone.

At first, you freeze when you feel Jihoon’s lips against yours. Your brain misfires because you know it’s not Soonyoung and you know that you should push Jihoon away but then you relax. You sigh into the kiss and return it, letting Jihoon’s tongue slide along your bottom lip.

You arch against his body when you feel Jihoon’s hand grasp your waist as you lean your head into his hand as he cups your cheek with his other hand. Your tongue glides along his and you moan softly into his mouth before finally Jihoon pulls away with one last peck on your lips.

With his eyes closed tightly, Jihoon rests his forehead against yours, cursing himself silently. If he had thought he had overstepped the night before, now he had looked at the line and flipped it off. His hand trembles against your side and Jihoon sits back, looking up at the ceiling as you look at him coming out of your haze.

“Jihoon…I—”

“It was me. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Jihoon starts to pull away from you and you feel your stomach twist in panic so quickly that you grab his shirt to stop him. When your eyes meet, Jihoon looks at you confusedly, but you just shake your head and bite at your lips, trying to think quickly.

“But I…I liked it.”

2:30 am

Jihoon groaned, looking at his lock screen again, before putting his phone face down on his bed. He had been staring at his ceiling for hours at this point, thoughts racing through his mind. All he could see was you looking at him with that sweet look on your face as he kissed you again.

“Fuck!”

There was so much that was fucked up about the situation. He had gone over to your house to talk you into calling Soonyoung. Instead, he had ended up making out with you on your couch before kissing you goodnight at your front door.

Now he was the one avoiding Soonyoung’s text messages. He didn’t know what he was going to say to him. 'Hey, yeah, talked to her. Kissed her and then kissed her again. You’re cool with that, right?’ He was sure that would go over well.

Closing his eyes, Jihoon runs his hand over his face before resting it on his bare chest as he tries to calm himself down but once again his thoughts land on you. He thinks about your fingers clinging to his shirt and how you sounded moaning into his mouth. He thinks about how sweet you would sound if he were between your—

Arching his hips off the bed, Jihoon groans at his own thoughts, trying to stop them but the damage is done. He had willed himself not to get hard while he was at your place but now he could feel his cock stiffening against his thigh under his shorts. This was pathetic; he was pathetic. All it took was thinking about how you’d sound if he were between your legs and he was hard and starting to leak.

Jihoon knew he could ignore his problem and eventually it would go away but it would take a while and he was already struggling to go to sleep. Smacking his hand against the bed, Jihoon lifts his hips, pushing his shorts down, before kicking them off under the sheet, letting his now throbbing cock rest back towards his abdomen.

Sighing in annoyance, he rubs his palm in a circle over his head to collect some of his pre-cum causing himself to hiss and buck his hips. Jihoon hated that his first thought as he wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking himself from base to tip, was your hand in place of his. It was so fucking wrong of him to think about you like this while he was doing this, but it was doing the trick.

Muttering your name under his breath into a groan, Jihoon picks up speed with his hand as he lifts his hips towards his fist, fucking into it with even strokes. It felt good but it was nothing compared to what he imagined your pussy must feel like.

Soonyoung wasn’t a shy person. He was a jealous person, but that only made him brag more and that meant that he would overshare. Jihoon was thinking about that now as he squeezed his cock under his head, remembering how Soonyoung told him that your pussy was the tightest he had ever had and how you got so wet that he had to lay down towels and use his tongue to clean you up.

Warm, sticky cum hits Jihoon’s stomach and runs down his fingers as he groans out your name one more time before pushing his head back against his pillow. He was out of breath, his heart racing, and you were still running laps in his head as he thought about you licking him clean.

With one last stroke and whimpering groan, Jihoon knows he has nothing else to give. Fingers unwrap from his softening cock as he takes steady breaths, feeling sleep trying to take over him, for him to now fight it, knowing he has to get cleaned up.

He hated himself for what he had just done, but god if it didn’t feel worth it for how hard that he had cum and how well he would sleep.

“Of course I would be excited to see you, Soonyoung…”

You sigh into your words as you lean your head against your driver’s side window. You had a headache; it had been a long day at work and all you wanted to do was get out of traffic and get home. You didn’t really want to be on the phone with Soonyoung as he made empty promises but that is where you found yourself; listening to empty promises and stuck in a traffic jam.

“I think I can make it happen in a couple weeks, maybe three.”

The ever changing Soonyoung timeline. Shaking your head, you hold your phone with one hand and the steering wheel with the other as traffic starts to move in front of you.

“Sure…”

“I’m serious, Y/N! Why don’t you ever believe me? I feel like I’m the only one trying to make this work anymore.”

Frowning, you start to speak, feeling emotion rising in your chest, when suddenly you are launched forward and pain spreads through your chest. Soonyoung waits to hear you speak but instead he hears the sound of your surprised yelp and then the sound of car horns.

“Baby?” When you don’t answer him at first, Soonyoung paces in front of the mirrored wall, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/N? Talk to me, baby!”

Muffled voices and a ringing in your ears are all you can hear as you try to shake your head to push away the foggy feeling. Someone takes your arm as you try to move and you hear a man tell you that you shouldn’t move until someone makes sure you are okay first.

“What happened?”

You can hear yourself better than you can hear the man, until finally your ears seem to pop just as your vision starts to clear and you see your airbag against your chest.

“Car came up too fast behind you and knocked the hell out of you. I was in front of you.”

Leaning up to try to see the man’s vehicle in front of you, the man ushers you back down and shakes his head.

“Just a little damage. I’m not worried about it all that much. Your car is fucked and so is his.”

Wincing as you lean your head back, you can feel the burn from where your airbag and the seatbelt protected you from much worse. You try to turn your head to look for the other driver, hearing sirens, but instead just look for the man you had been talking to.

“Is he okay?”

Sighing, the man nods, giving you an annoyed look.

“Probably the drunk ones always get hurt less, they say.”

Holding his free hand over his ear, Soonyoung struggles to make out as much of your conversation with the unknown man as he can but the moment he realizes you have been in a car accident, he’s panicking. Swallowing hard, Soonyoung clenches his chest as he ends the call with you and grits his teeth, making the decision to call the only other person he knew could be there for you when he couldn’t.

“Yeah?”

Jihoon was almost nervous to pick up the phone after seeing Soonyoung’s name but he did it anyway. He had been avoiding his best friend most of the day except for the stray text here or there but this was the first phone call he had actually accepted.

“Jihoon!”

The panic in Soonyoung’s voice made Jihoon sit up straight, his heart rate speeding up, because his first thought was that something was wrong and it could only be you.

“Ji...I–fuck! I was on the phone with Y/N and I don’t know where she is.”

He could hear Soonyoung struggling with his words as he paced, unsure what to do. Jihoon’s first thought was, Fuck, I couldn’t imagine how hard this would be for him if something happened to you but then he could imagine it. He needed to know what was wrong and where you were.

“Slow down and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Nodding, Soonyoung runs his hand over his mouth and takes a breath, trying to start over slower and calmer.

“We were talking on the phone and she dropped it, I think. I heard something loud and then some dude was talking to her. He said something about an accident. I think she was in a wreck.”

Looking at his watch, Jihoon stands up from his chair, grabbing his keys and jacket, keeping his phone to his ear as he pushes his studio door open. He knew he should probably tell the others where he was going but, fuck it, they could figure it out.

“It’s 5:30; she was probably going home. Maybe she got stuck on the highway. I’ll find her and call you back.”

Jihoon groans at the woman sitting at the front desk of the emergency room as she stares up at him like he has three heads.

“Like I told you, if you aren’t a relative or a loved one, you can’t go back to see Miss Y/L/N. You can wait in the waiting area.”

His hair was starting to come loose from his bun with the number of times he had shaken his head. Jihoon was getting more annoyed by the minute. Gritting his teeth, he puts his palms flat on the desk and gives the woman a strained smile before tilting his head.

“I am a loved one. Y/N is my girlfriend. I’d really like to see her now.”

After a few more minutes of narrowing eyes at one another, Jihoon found himself being led back to your triage room, where you were sitting on a bed in a hospital gown with a frown. You were honestly so cute that he couldn’t help but pull the smallest of smiles from his lips. However, seeing the cut on your lip and eyebrow and the bruise that was already spreading along your neck, the smile quickly faded.

Nodding to the nurse, Jihoon moves towards your bed as the woman pulls the door shut, giving you and him more privacy. The moment your eyes meet, the tears fall over the rims of your eyes and Jihoon’s heart breaks.

“Hey…What’s that about? Did they say you have to stay overnight or something?”

Shaking your head, you reach out to take Jihoon’s wrist in yours, pulling him closer so that he will sit next to you on your bed. You find yourself just wanting to be close to him.

“No. I can go home as soon as the doctor makes sure I didn’t break anything and gets me a script for some pain meds.”

Furrowing his brows, Jihoon turns his hand over, letting you rest yours in his as he looks over your face even closer now. He could see where the bruises would be and where the hospital had cleaned up your cuts but there was still some dried blood. His stomach was in knots because it never should have happened.

“So why are you crying? Talk to me…”

“My car is fucked for one and I—” Your voice falls over into a small sob, causing Jihoon to lift his hand, his thumb gently caressing your cheek to push the tears away. “I’m scared and I don’t wanna be alone now. Soonyoung is—”

You don’t finish the sentence but Jihoon knows how it finishes. Soonyoung is so far away. He had heard you say it many times but this time it went right to his gut. He almost hated Soonyoung for leaving you alone and letting something like this happen to you, even though it wasn’t his fault and he had no way of preventing it whether he was here or not.

“One thing at a time, Y/N. Come here…”

Shifting on your hospital bed, Jihoon sits beside you, letting you curl against his chest so you can rest against him. He can feel your tears soaking through his shirt but he doesn’t mind it. The only thing he cares about is who is in his arms and whether you are safe.

“Let’s go through things one at a time. Your car. I know you have insurance. We will call tomorrow and make sure it’s being taken care of. I can get you to and from work.”

You start to complain but Jihoon just holds you tighter, making you sob softly against him before you nod.

“And being alone...”

You hear him let out a breath as he thinks of what to say so you do it first as you run your fingers along his chest around a button.

“Could you stay with me for a few days?”

Closing his eyes, Jihoon swallows hard as he leans his head back against the wall. He knew he should say no and that you should ask one of your girlfriends but he hates the idea of disappointing you.

“Yeah…I can do that, honey.”

“She’s banged up but she’s gonna be alright. They got her some pain meds and she’s out of work the rest of the week to rest.”

Soonyoung furrowed his brows to Jihoon’s words. He could tell the man was whispering but he didn’t really know why… Was he still with you? Looking down at his phone, he tried to do the math in his head but it didn’t make sense. If it was 5:30 pm for him, that would mean it was at least after midnight for you, if not later.

“Thanks for letting me know. Wish I was there… hate the idea of her being alone right now.”

Sighing, Jihoon looks at you in your bed as he leans back in the armchair before shaking his head at Soonyoung’s words. He wasn’t sure how to work around what the man had just said to him. He wasn’t an idiot but he didn’t want to cause a fight.

"Yeah, I don’t like it either but what is anyone going to do about it, Soonyoung? I told her that until her car is out of the shop, I’ll take her to and from work. That’s one less thing for her to worry about right now.”

Maybe he was letting his imagination get the best of him. That was it. He had always been a jealous man when it came to you and there was no reason for him to be worried when it came to you and Jihoon. Nodding along with his best friend’s words, Soonyoung offers a smile to Aimi as she gestures for him to hurry up as she and a few of the other students wait by the door of the studio.

“Thank you for doing that, Ji. I’ll try to call her later, after she’s got some rest. I owe you big time.”

That was an understatement, is all Jihoon could think as he heard the sounds of a girl giggling just as Soonyoung hung up the phone call. Of course, it could be nothing but there was no way to know.

Moving his eyes back over to you as your hands rested under your cheek, Jihoon tilted his head and started to stand up, intent on going to the couch, when you whispered his name. At first, he thinks you are just dreaming but then you sit up and look at him, making him stop in the doorway.

“Hey, you okay? You need something to drink? More pain meds?”

Shaking your head, you reach out your hand towards him and Jihoon’s heart beats hard in his chest at the implications of what you were asking of him.

“Stay? Don’t wanna be alone.”

Your voice is so tired and small. Jihoon closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding and moving towards the bed to crawl in behind you, laying a good distance away. He thinks you’ll be satisfied to have him just anywhere close to you but then you turn over and lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arm over him so that you can pull your body in close to his.

“This okay, Hoonie?”

Running his free hand through his now loose, long blond hair, Jihoon wants to tell you no and that you need to lay away from him but everything about that is a lie. There was nothing more that he wanted. He hears you sigh happily when his hand under you shifts to run his fingers along your back, allowing you to curl even tighter against him, your leg pulling to rest against his thigh.

“Yeah, it’s okay, honey.”

You smile at the pet name. It wasn’t something that Jihoon had called you much about or ever before, but you were enjoying it. It made your stomach feel warm and your heart feel fluttery. Nuzzling your cheek against his chest, you spread your fingers out along his abs and close them to scratch at his skin through his thin shirt with a sigh.

“I like that…that name.”

If anything, Jihoon knew he was crossing a line with it, but fuck, look at where he was and look at where you were. The line was 300 miles back and he was waving at it in the distance at this point.

“I like it too. I like it too much.”

Shaking your head, you glance up at Jihoon with a pout on your lips as he meets your eyes in the dim, moonlit room. You could see the apprehension on his face and you knew why it was there but as much as you knew you should feel guilty, he was the one here and he was the one taking care of you.

Reaching up with your hand, you hold his chin in place so you can lean up to press your lips against his, granting you a soft groan from his. Jihoon’s brows furrow, and his fingers scratch lightly against your lower back right over your ass before he gasps for a breath, pulling away from you.

“Y/N…”

“I want you, Jihoon.”

Jihoon had felt bad about not giving in to you after you had confessed that you wanted him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you. God, if anything, he wanted you too much and that was what was killing him. You had pouted for a few minutes but then accepted his excuse that it was too fast and too soon after your accident before you fell asleep in his arms.

The sun was starting to rise and he knew he would have to leave you, at least for a few hours today. He would need to go into the recording studio and at least explain his sudden disappearance and work for a couple hours, but god, did you make it hard to leave you.

Running his fingers over your cheek as you nuzzle against his chest, Jihoon can’t help but smile as you smack your lips in your sleep. You are so cute that it is almost physically painful for him to look at you and not act on the whims that he feels. He wants to kiss you, put your back against the bed and show you how he would spoil you in bed. Instead, Jihoon just watches you sleep for a few minutes longer before he tries to slide his arm from under your body, only to feel your fingers tighten in the front of his t-shirt holding him to you.

“Hoonie…don’t leave.”

Your voice almost breaks his heart because he didn’t want to leave you but he had to. Sighing, Jihoon brushes your hair back, leaning to press his lips against yours, feeling you smile against his. With that, he’s able to maneuver his arm out, only for you to whimper against his lips and tug him back against you.

“Honey…I have to go take a shower and get to work. I won’t be gone all day, I promise.”

Looking down at you, Jihoon frowns at the darkening spot near your eye and lip. His eyes move down to where your tank top does nothing to hide your largest bruise on your shoulder and collarbone from where your seatbelt had been sitting.

“I’m gonna miss you. Can’t you just stay?”

Shaking his head, Jihoon leans to kiss your eyebrow lightly, then your split lip, before leaning to kiss your neck and collarbone, making you moan. It wasn’t his intention to turn you on; instead, he was just trying to kiss your wounds better but you couldn’t help but lace your fingers through his long hair, holding him to you.

Groaning as he feels your heel run along his thigh, Jihoon takes a breath against your neck, trying to keep his head. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone and he never thought the next person would be his best friend’s girl, but here you were with your hands in his hair and your body pressed against his.

“Jihoon…”

His name on your lips is like a siren’s call and Jihoon’s resolve breaks. Meeting your eyes, his lips press against yours hard, only for you to whimper at the slight pain of your split lip. He pulls back, realizing that his kiss is gentle and tender as his tongue dances with yours. You feel his hand slide from your waist to your hip so that his fingers can press into the top of your shorts, making you arch off the bed, wanting him to take them off.

“I can’t give you everything right now. I really do have to go in for a while today, but I’ll give you something, okay, honey?”

Nodding, you whine out his name as Jihoon pulls back from you. His eyes move over your face and down your body as his fingers press into the top of your shorts, pulling them down your legs with trembling hands. The line was thousands of miles behind him now; he couldn’t even see it. All he could see was you. All Jihoon could hear was his name on your lips as he dropped your shorts on the bed next to him and you spread your legs for him.

Jihoon lets out a shaky breath and it dawns on him that there is no one else who matters who isn’t in this room. It’s just you and him. His eyes move from your face, down your body, and finally between your legs, where his mouth starts to water at the sight of you. Your perfect folds are spread to reveal just how wet your pussy has gotten for him. Not for Soonyoung, but for him.

“Fuck…gonna eat you out, is that okay?”

It had been so long since you had been touched, so having someone look at you the way Jihoon did was almost overwhelming. You felt like you could cum untouched by just the feeling of his eyes but then his question and what he wanted to do to you had you clenching around nothing. Whining, you nod, scooting your hips further down in the bed as Jihoon moves between your legs, leaning to press kisses to your soft thighs, waiting for your verbal answer.

“Yeah, please? God, please, Hoonie?”

It wouldn’t take much convincing for Jihoon to give you what you wanted. With one hand wrapped around your hip, he uses his other to part your folds so he can see all of you. Letting out a groan to the sight, Jihoon glanced up the length of your body before shaking his head and spitting on to your clit before latching on to it with his mouth.

Soonyoung was great at everything in bed but this was different. You hadn’t been with too many people before you met Soonyoung and up until this moment, you had been faithful to him, but there was something about Lee Jihoon between your legs that had tears already streaming down your face. The groans and grunts let out against your pussy were almost animalistic as he ground his face against you, fucking you with his tongue.

Your fingers grip Jihoon’s hair, tugging at the long locks holding him closer between your legs as you feel the pressure building in your lower abdomen. It’s only when you are unable to hold it back anymore that you cry out his name and roll your hips hard against his face, cumming onto his tongue and chin.

Jihoon groans quietly against your warm, wet folds as he laps at your cum, enjoying every last drop. His fingers lazily massage your folds, causing your thighs to jerk and for him to smile against your pussy until you whine his name as if asking for mercy.

Licking his lips clean of you, Jihoon moves up between your legs to rest over you, kissing you gently and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He basks in the sounds of your moans as your fingers grip and almost tear at his shirt, wanting more but he had already told you he couldn’t give you everything just yet. Nudging his nose against yours, Jihoon smiles against your lips before pulling away as you almost sob his name but he knows this time it’s just a ploy to keep him in your bed.

“I told you, honey, I gotta shower and get to work. I’ll pick up food tonight and we can cuddle when I get back.”

Turning on your side, you take a deep breath, feeling exhausted as you watch Jihoon walk towards your en suite, his fingers running through his long blonde hair. You knew you should feel guilty and maybe you did deep down but you had needs and right now, as your thighs ached from your legs being spread apart as he ate you out like his last meal, you couldn’t feel a single drop of guilt.

You wake up to the sound of your phone, causing your brows to furrow in annoyance. You had been sleeping so well but still, your fingers reach out for your phone, bringing it to your ear as you answer it with a sleepy voice.

“Hello? Jihoon?”

Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung tries not to take too much offense to how you answer the phone because he can tell you were asleep and he can tell you aren’t yourself. Jihoon had told him that you were on some pretty strong pain medications, so maybe that was clouding your judgment.

“No, baby, it’s me, Soonie.”

You smile softly, feeling a warmth rush over you upon hearing Soonyoung’s voice. There was a conflicting feeling underlying it but on the surface, you were happy to hear from him. You missed him despite everything and you loved him.

“Hi, Soonie.”

That was more like it, you seemed more like yourself. Maybe a bit of a drunk version of yourself but still, you seemed happy to hear from him and that Soonyoung could handle.

“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?”

Whining as you turn over on your back, you put your hand on your shoulder, feeling the stretch in your arm, making Soonyoung hear you in pain. He knew if he could be on a plane and back with you in that moment, he would be, but it was literally impossible.

“I’m fine. Just hurts a bit. I could probably go back to work earlier than the doctor said.”

Shaking his head, Soonyoung punches in the code to his building as he rests his phone on his shoulder, letting his foot catch the door so he can get his stuff inside.

“No, baby… listen to what the doctor said. If you need more time to heal and rest, take it.”

Pouting, you sit up in bed, looking around for Jihoon, remembering he had left for work long before. Nodding to Soonyoung’s words, you just sigh and give in to your current predicament.

“I guess so. Maybe they will have the car fixed before Monday. I hate the idea of Hoonie driving me around.”

Hoonie, it wasn’t like that was the first time he had heard you call his best friend that but for some reason this time it made his hair stand on end and his mouth go dry. Nodding, Soonyoung puts his groceries down hard on the counter, making you jump in your bed with a wince as you hear him sigh loudly.

“You okay, Soonyoung?”

Rolling his eyes, Soonyoung takes out one of his beers and pops it open, taking a sip as he leans against the counter, tilting his head as he looks at the label with narrowed eyes.

“Course I am, babe. Get some rest. I love you.”

Soonyoung doesn’t give you much time to respond before the sound of a phone call ending goes off in your ear and you are left with his picture staring back in your face. Furrowing your brows, you reach for your bottle of water that Jihoon had left and your bottle of pills, taking another one before settling back into your covers and trying to relax once again.

Looking at his phone, Soonyoung runs his thumb along his contacts before he lands on Aimi and puts it to his ear, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips when he hears her pick up.

“Hey, no, yeah... I’m fine. Just wanted to see if you wanted to come over and hang out.”

Jihoon tried to be quiet while moving through your front door, but smelling food cooking as soon as he walked in made him realize there was no point in trying. Following his nose, he smiled while watching you stand in front of the stove in fresh clothes, humming along to something playing on your phone. If you had heard him come in, you weren’t letting him in on it.

Sliding his hands around your waist, Jihoon laughs when you jump, dropping your spoon into your soup with a small splash of liquid that both of you are barely able to miss as it hits the floor. Jihoon whispers apologies against your ear before leaning to kiss your neck as you calm down and pout at him before he pulls away to get a paper towel to clean up.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you would have heard me come in.”

Shaking your head, you look down in your soup for the lost spoon before Jihoon moves back to your side, dipping his fingers in and pulling it out with a small hiss to the heat, letting you take it from him.

“I didn’t, but I’m glad you are home.”

Home. What a loaded word. This wasn’t his home but you made him wish it was. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded it wasn’t his home as Soonyoung smiled at him from the fridge and the walls, but he was getting pretty good at ignoring him.

Sliding his hand along your hip, Jihoon takes a deep breath of the steam coming off the soup, nodding appreciatively as you look up at his content. This was the happiest you had been all day since before he left you for work. It was the most coherent you had been as well. You barely remembered your phone call with Soonyoung and you hadn’t received any text messages from him so you knew he was asleep or something. It didn’t matter.

“Can you get down a couple bowls and we can eat on the couch? We have some trash TV to catch up on.”

This was the perfect way to spend an evening and how Jihoon wished he could spend every single evening. He didn’t need to worry about rushing off. His stomach was full of food that you had made for him and now you were lying in his arms as the TV played one of your silly shows that you cared too much about.

Fingers lightly strum over Jihoon’s chest as you smile, listening to his heartbeat more than you listen to the arguments or gossip on the show. You find yourself enjoying the feeling of Jihoon’s hand cupping your hip and his thumb resting under your shirt above your shorts more than you do anything else. You never want the night to end or maybe it is more than that, something deeper but it’s nothing that you can talk about out loud just yet.

When your eyes meet Jihoon's, he smiles at you and you feel like you are melting on the spot because it's been so long since someone has looked at you like that. Since someone has really looked at you, you feel like you could get lost in his eyes as his fingers lightly move across your cheek and down your jaw before he leans in to press his lips to yours, and you melt all over again. There’s something there that is unspoken and it will remain unspoken for the sake of everyone involved. You just kiss and give into it.

Jihoon groans when he finally moves you to your bed and has you sitting on his lap. He whines into your mouth, feeling the weight of you over his hard cock. He wants to tell you that maybe this is too much or too fast but what about if this is too much or too fast? What about this? Is it even right? He knows it and he knows what you do too, so instead he just gives into it.

Clothes find their way into the floor until your skin is naked against Jihoon and his fingers can finally move over your soft skin like he has always wanted to. He feels dirty and like this isn’t his—because it isn't—and yet something whispers in his ear that you are his. Right now, at this moment, you are his.

“Please?”

One word falls from your lips and Jihoon will give you the world; he will bring down the moon and the stars for you to make it better. Resting on your back, you cling to Jihoon, his hair falling from his bun as he looks down at you, his right hand sliding along your inner thigh, working its way towards your warm center. Two fingers slide between your wet folds and Jihoon’s lips fall open in the same way yours do as he works his fingers into your pussy, feeling your warm walls clench around them.

He remembers in that moment Soonyoung bragging to him about how tight and messy you are and he can’t help but smirk to himself that he is getting to know that firsthand. Groaning against his arm, Jihoon can barely move his fingers inside of you, searching for that one spot that will make you scream his name but when he finds it, you arch off the bed and Jihoon almost cums on the spot, untouched by the sight of you and the sounds that come out of your mouth.

Your velvet walls tremble around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you at almost a brutal pace, trying to get you ready for his cock without even thinking about anything else. All Jihoon can think about is your wet slick seeping around his fingers and how it is running down his wrist with each deep thrust of his fingers. He is just thinking about how good it will feel on his cock and how sweet you will sound as he’s pushing you into the mattress that you share with Soonyoung.

Shaking his head to push Soonyoung out of it, Jihoon groans your name as your nails scratch his chest and along his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips when you cum. He groans loudly, feeling his fingers being sucked back into you with each wave of your orgasm, making it almost impossible for him to pull away from you until you finally relax and your thighs stop shaking.

Smiling, Jihoon presses kisses on your cheek and along your neck before looking up at you to meet your eyes as he slips his fingers from your dripping center. You watch as he brings them to his lips and sucks each one of them clean with a small groan, making you whine under him.

“Hoonie, please, I need you.”

“Yeah? I won’t make you wait, honey.”

Leaning over you, Jihoon opens the nightstand he knows to be Soonyoung and groans when he only finds an empty box of condoms before resting his head on his bicep.

“Baby, do you have condoms on your side?”

Swallowing hard, you shake your head already, knowing you don’t. Dread feels you knowing that if you don’t say something, he won’t fuck you like you want him to. Lifting your hand, you cling to Jihoon’s arm and whine as sweetly as you can, making him look down at you as you look up at him through lowered lashes.

“I don't, but I’m on birth control, Jihoon. That’s why we don’t have anything here. Just fuck me, please?”

Jihoon knew he should say no and wait until he could pick something up but that look in your eyes and the sweet tone of your voice were killing him. You hadn’t been with anyone else besides Soonyoung in years and he knew he hadn’t been with anyone in months, maybe closer to a year. Groaning, Jihoon rests his forehead against your shoulder before nodding, making you smile as you run your fingers through his hair.

Learning from you, Jihoon pushes down his boxers, kicking off the last remaining piece of clothing, keeping him separated from you as your eyes follow him. Swallowing hard, you watch as he strokes himself a few times before he meets your eyes as if looking for permission once again, only for you to nod and slide your leg up and off to the side, letting him move back between your thighs.

Running his thumb over your clit first, Jihoon watches how your body jerks, making him smirk before he follows that same action with the head of his cock. His brows furrowed as he made a pass with his tip between your folds to collect some of your arousal before finally meeting your eyes as he pushed into you for the first time, slow and steady.

You had been used to the feeling of Soonyoung stretching you out so the feeling of Jihoon was completely different. Soonyoung was longer, whereas Jihoon had girth and it was almost painful as he sank into you, making you see white for a moment. A moan gets caught in your throat when Jihoon bottoms out and he stays where he is, catching his breath as you clench around him, making it impossible for him to move at first.

“Oh…shit. Y/N, you gotta relax. Relax for me, honey.”

Nodding, you do your best to listen to Jihoon’s voice and let your body relax as his fingers stroke the side of your face into your hair. You smile at the feeling of his lips pressing against your throat, feeling his smile against your skin when you do as he asked you to.

“That’s it. Such a good girl. Can I move?”

Whining out a yes, you nod and scratch at Jihoon’s back as he starts to thrust slowly but deeply, making you cry once again. Tears of pleasure begin to stream down your face and over Jihoon’s thumb, causing him to look up in concern until he sees the blissed out look on your face.

Wiping the tears from your face, Jihoon groans your name, picking up his pace and listening to you cry out his name as you tighten around him once again. He didn’t need you to tell him that you were close. He could feel it as your orgasm started to rip through you. The way you got impossibly wetter and how you clamped down on him and held him inside of you like a vice.

Groaning your name, it soon turns into a hiss as he follows you over that edge in a panic, trying to pull out only to have you cling to him with tears in your eyes, begging him to stay. Nodding, Jihoon relaxes, and his cum fills you with each deep thrust, making you throw your head back with a moan of his name.

Collapsing on top of you, Jihoon struggles to catch his breath for a moment as sweat rolls along his neck and down his chest to your skin. Licking your lips, you run your fingers through his hair and over his back as you come down from your high, feeling like you have been to the moon and back.

“Fuck…”

A smile pulls at your lips as Jihoon curses against your neck. After a few moments, he rolls over to your side, pulling from you carefully, before resting his forearm over his eyes, still catching his breath as if he had just run a mile. Shaking your head, you can’t help but admire the man beside you in your bed under the moonlight, as if he is a piece of art, as with each of his breaths, his muscles expand and contract, showing off all his hard work spent in the gym.

“Thank you, Jihoon. I really needed that.”

Laughing, Jihoon just shakes his head, moving his arm to look at you before laughing again and pulling you into his arms to kiss you softly, making you smile.

“Why are you thanking me for fucking you?”

Shrugging you, run your finger nails along his abs, making him suck in on a breath as he leans his head back against the pillows.

“What else am I supposed to say?”

Shaking his head, Jihoon runs his fingers over your back and furrows his brows, realizing he isn’t even sure what the right answer to that question is. It isn’t that you love him or that he loves you, not even if it were true. So perhaps your response was appropriate for the time. Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling, staying quiet for a moment before lightly patting your back.

“I don’t know, but I do know we need a shower. We smell like sex.”

Laughing, you watch Jihoon slide out of your bed and around towards the ensuite, where the water for the shower starts to run.

“Such a romantic, Lee Jihoon.”

Grinning, Jihoon leans against the bathroom counter, looking at himself in the mirror as the room starts to fill with steam and he waits for you to join him.

“Yeah, I know I am, honey.”

Staring at your phone, you run your thumb over Soonyoung’s face as you think about what happened between you and Jihoon. The guilt had started to weigh heavily on you. That wasn’t who you were. You had always been faithful to Soonyoung because that’s the type of person he and you were.

Pressing your thumb down over his name, you put the phone to your ear and sigh. You knew it was pretty early in Tokyo. It was after 5 pm for you and Jihoon would be coming back home soon so that would mean Soonyoung was probably getting ready to leave for work. What you didn’t expect was someone else to pick up his phone.

“Hello?”

A sweet female’s voice greets your ear and you feel like the walls that have been stable around you are crashing down around you. You hear her say hello again before you shake some sense into yourself and look at your hands, finally able to speak.

“Uh hi… I was trying to reach Soonyoung.”

The girl smiles into her words before giggling as she looks around his apartment, listening to the shower turn off.

“Yeah, he’s here. He’s getting out of the showe—”

“Hello?”

Soonyoung had heard Aimi talking to someone and there were only a few people who would be calling him this early in the morning. Taking the phone out of her hand, he shoots her an annoyed look as he glances at your face on his screen before trying to get you to talk to him.

“Baby?”

Aimi pouts while watching Soonyoung hold his towel up around his waist as she sits back on his bed. Her eyes follow him as he moves into the bathroom, shutting the door where she can’t hear him anymore.

“Who was that, Soonyoung?”

Sighing as he leans against the counter, Soonyoung tries to think of his feet and the best thing he can think of is a half truth.

“A student. I–uh I gotta work on some stuff with her before class. She showed up too early. Sorry, she answered my phone, babe. Won’t happen again.”

Tears gather at the rims of your eyes as you just nod along with Soonyoung’s words. You knew deep down that there was nothing you should have over him after what had happened between you and Jihoon but it still hurt. You didn’t believe him because you knew what Soonyoung sounded like when he was lying.

“Baby? You–you heard me, right?”

Wiping at your cheeks, you just nod again before looking up at the entryway to your bedroom, where Jihoon is standing with a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah, I heard you. I gotta go, Soonyoung.”

Leaning his head down towards the sink, Soonyoung groans under his breath. He didn’t want to just let you get off the phone after something like this but he couldn’t force you to stay on the phone and listen to him come up with excuses.

‘Yeah…okay baby. I love you, so so much.”

Looking up at Jihoon, you wipe at your cheek once more, answering Soonyoung numbly while your words are left in the air, causing Jihoon’s heart to tighten.

“I love you.”

Hanging up your phone, you drop it onto the bed and close your eyes before you feel the mattress sink next to you and Jihoon’s arms wrap around you. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he knew you were in pain and if he could take it away, he would.

Closing his eyes, Jihoon rests his face against your hair and takes in a deep breath, letting it out as you let out a soft, sad sob that shatters his heart. He knew that you were talking to Soonyoung. He knew that ‘I love you’ hadn’t been meant for him but he wished it had been. In his mind, he would never leave you like this. He wouldn’t have you crying because of him day after day.

“Y/N…honey…do you wanna talk about it?”

Shaking your head, you start to tell him no before you lean back to meet his eyes and all of your resolve melts away. Jihoon can only coo at you in sympathy, bringing his thumbs up to push the tears from under your eyes as you try to explain about the girl picking up the phone.

“What do you want me to do, baby? I’ll call him and cuss his ass out. I’ll call her.”

The words were nice but deep down, even Jihoon knew what you and he were doing was no better. At the end of the day, you didn’t really know if Soonyoung was sleeping with this girl, but did it really matter?

Moving to lay against Jihoon, you shake your head hard and cling to Jihoon like a life raft to keep you from drowning. You know that you shouldn’t want him as much as you do but all you can think about in that moment is his lips on yours and how it would distract you from your heartbreak.

“No, no…just…”

This was becoming the routine for the two of you. Jihoon would go to work and come home before ending up on top of you, either in bed or on the couch, where the two of you would eventually end up naked.

Furrowing his brows, Jihoon groans as you lay back on your bed, pulling him with you. He knew what you wanted as your fingers pulled at his shirt and worked his hair loose from its bun. He didn’t want to tell you no, so he wouldn’t. Instead, Jihoon just meshes his lips with yours and kisses away your pain and tears. With each piece of clothing that he removes from you or himself, that’s just another layer of anxiety or stress that he is removing until finally his skin is met with yours.

“Hoonie…be rough with me?”

Closing his eyes, Jihoon bites down lightly against your neck, near where your bruise was starting to fade when you asked him that question. There had been times when he had wanted to let go with you and just have his way with you but he had been afraid to hurt you or scare you, but now you were asking.

“You sure, honey?”

Nodding, you scratch your nails along Jihoon’s back, knowing that you are leaving marks that will fade in a few minutes. You didn’t want to think anymore; you just wanted to feel. All you wanted in your brain was Jihoon, Jihoon, Jihoon.

Hissing at the feeling of your nails on his skin, Jihoon pulls back to look down at you with fire in his eyes. He would give you what you wanted. Licking his lips, Jihoon stares at you for a moment, only to then capture your lips with his in a breathtaking kiss. You whine into his mouth as Jihoon’s teeth nip at your lips before he pulls away completely, kneeling on the bed in front of you.

“Come here; let me use that mouth.”

Turning over, you blink up at Jihoon, only for him to pull you to where he wants you with one hand as he holds his cock in his other. Sucking on his bottom lip, Jihoon tilts his head, watching your eyes fall to what’s in front of you before you open your mouth and he taps his head on your tongue a couple times before sliding into your warm, wet mouth with a groan.

“Fuck…just like that. Hands on my thighs, baby. If it’s too much, tap a few times, and I’ll stop.”

Lifting your eyes to Jihoon, you moan around his cock and he almost loses it right then and there. He could feel your nails digging into his thighs as he buried his cock into your mouth, his tip almost reaching the back of your throat. The sound of your moans mixed with gagging caused Jihoon’s brain to misfire as he groaned your name.

Fingers hold your head close to his hips as Jihoon keeps you as close to him as possible until he hears you whine and he lets you go. Leaning your head back, you blink up through tears as Jihoon wipes his hand over his lips, watching his pre-cum and your saliva drips down your chin. The sight is something he knows he won’t forget for a long time.

“Good fucking girl, honey. Now turn your ass towards me. You want it rough, don’t you?”

Nodding, you can barely answer Jihoon as you weakly move into the position he wants you in. Hands slap at your thighs, causing them to sting, before the same hands come down on your ass, making you cry out in surprise. Leaning over your back, Jihoon smiles against your ear, listening to you calm down as he presses small kisses on your skin.

“You like that? When I spank you?”

“Yeah, I like it, Hoonie.”

Smirking, Jihoon pushes off the bed and slaps his hand down over your ass cheek one more time, listening to the sound of your moaning cry as he rubs his hand in a circle over the warm skin. With his free hand, he uses his thumb to spread your folds as he ruts his hips against you from behind, feeling your arousal drip onto his cock.

“Honey…You are soaked. Might make me think you like being treated like a slut.”

Whimpering in embarrassment, you bury your face against your arm. You listen to Jihoon laugh as his fingers dig into your hip. The fingers that once were running between your folds now help to press his cock against your leaking hole.

Gasping, you scratch at the bedding under you, feeling the way that Jihoon’s cock stretches you in this new position. When his cock is fully buried inside, only then are you able to fully catch your breath, only to have it taken when it gives you no mercy and starts to pound into you relentlessly.

You knew what you had asked for and Jihoon was delivering it. There were no coherent thoughts left in your mind. The only thing you could think about was him until the sound of his phone going off just as you were about to cum brought you back to reality.

Frowning, Jihoon glances towards the nightstand to see Soonyoung’s face lighting up on his phone. Leaning over your back, Jihoon groans your name, feeling you tighten around him, only for you to glance towards the phone. He can feel the exact moment when you fall under him and he knows the moment is lost.

“Stop…stop…please?”

Coming to a stop, Jihoon carefully pulls from you as you ask him to, his head turning away from the phone only for a moment before he curses under his breath and smacks it from the nightstand. Bringing the phone to his ear, still out of breath, he answers the call, anger evident in his tone.

“Yeah?”

Taken aback by the anger, Soonyoung furrows his brows and wipes his towel across his neck to clean off a new layer of sweat from practice. Maybe Jihoon had been at the gym and he was interrupting a set, but he had never gotten that sort of response or that level.

“Am I bothering you? Fuck, dude…”

Rolling his eyes, Jihoon sits on the side of your bed, feeling his head start to hurt as you turn away from him and pull your legs up towards your stomach. He knew you were feeling shame and guilt when you didn’t need to and it was Soonyoung’s fault, it was his fault. You weren’t at fault for this.

“Yeah, you are. What do you want?”

Scoffing, Soonyoung looks at himself in the mirror, clenching his fist and unclenching it before letting out a sigh.

“I was just waiting to check in. I wanted to see if you had talked to Y/N today. Something happened earlier and I am just…”

The laugh starts off unamused but ends up being a genuine laugh as Jihoon leans his head back, causing Soonyoung to be even more confused until Jihoon speaks.

“The chick picking up the phone? I know about it. Be smarter about your hook-ups if you are trying to keep them from your girl, Soonyoung.”

Now Soonyoung was seeing red. Jihoon might be his best friend but that didn’t give him the right to tell him how to live his life or how to handle his relationship with you. Especially when he was getting awfully cozy with you.

“Fuck you, man. You have no idea what I’m going through. Know what I think?”

Making a questioning sound, Jihoon lifts his brows, waiting for Soonyoung to continue but Soonyoung just scoffs, putting his fist against the mirror.

“I’m waiting to hear the great gospel, according to Kwon Soonyoung.”

Shaking his head, Soonyoung hangs up the call and turns to slide down the mirror to sit on the floor as Aimi frowns at him. Moving closer, she kneels in front of him, brushing her fingers over his cheek and he gives in, leaning into a friendly touch.

Three Weeks Later

You had just gotten your car back. You and Jihoon had started splitting time between who’s place you would stay at but today just happened to be one of the evenings when he was busy and you needed a little time to yourself.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you drop your keys into the bowl beside the door and sigh, not noticing the extra shoes beside the door. You don’t notice the suitcase next to the couch until the smell of Soonyoung’s cologne overwhelms you.

“Hey baby.”

Startled, you take a step back as Soonyoung smiles at you, his brows furrowing at your reaction to him. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to just show up but you had started ignoring his calls more and answering fewer texts and he was starting to worry about you. He was starting to worry about you and him.

“Oh, hey, sorry... didn’t mean to scare you, babe.”

Grinning, Soonyoung moves towards you, pulling you into his arms as you wrap your arms around his waist, feeling tears stinging your eyes. You feel overwhelmed and uncertain what to do or how to feel. He doesn’t seem real, even if he’s in your arms. The man that you have loved for so many years of your life now just feels like guilt in your hands.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Nodding, you cling to Soonyoung, not wanting him to see any disappointment on your face. Because you aren’t really disappointed. You have missed him. No matter anything that had happened or would happen, this man was your friend and you always wanted him to be. He had started that way, as your best friend. He knew how to make you laugh better than anyone and you loved him for that.

“Of course I am, Soonie. When did you get here?”

Soonyoung smiles, burying his nose against your hair and taking in your scent as he closes his eyes. He tries to count the time in his head but the jet lag makes everything muddle together. Shaking his head, he just laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

“Couple of hours ago. Just enough time to throw some left over in the oven and a load of laundry in. All I wanna do now is lay down and cuddle with my girl. Can we do that?”

Your heart feels like glass as you listen to Soonyoung talk, because it sounds so simple. You want to tell him everything he wants to hear so you just do it. You nod and look up at him with a smile, letting him press a kiss to your lips that you meekly return, though your brain drifts to Jihoon.

“Yeah, of course. Let me... let me–uh change and we can lay on the couch.”

Whining, Soonyoung wraps his arms around you from behind, burying his face against your neck as you start to walk away from him. Your hand on your cellphone is in your jacket pocket as he pulls you back against him.

“Not the couch, kitten. I wanna lay on the bed. I’m tired… cuddle with me.”

You scoff into an unamused laugh before nodding and looking over your shoulder at Soonyoung, who smiles at you so sweetly that you can’t say no.

“Yeah, the bed. I’ll change and meet you there.”

Watching Soonyoung trudge off down the hall, you let out a breath, pulling out your cellphone to text Jihoon with shaking hands.

Y/N 💗: Soonyoung is home

The day had been long but the night was going to be longer. Jihoon hated album wrap ups but as a producer, sometimes he had to do grunt work up until the early hours of the morning. Hearing his phone go off was one thing that could make him smile until he read your text and his face fell.

Muttering fuck under his breath and drawing the attention of a friend in the studio with him, Jihoon apologizes, turning his chair away to answer you.

Hoonie 💗: For how long?

Y/N 💗: I have no idea

Rubbing his hand over his face, Jihoon puts his phone face down on his desk in front of him. It wasn’t your fault. In truth, Soonyoung had given you both a warning when he said two or three weeks, but he usually never kept those promises.

Looking at your phone as you move into your room, you glance at the bed to see Soonyoung lying where Jihoon usually would be now. A smile on the man’s face as he flips through channels on the TV, picking what he wants instead of what you like.

Eyes shift towards you as you move into the closet, closing it halfway and making Soonyoung’s brows furrow. You had never shied away from him before, but it had been several months since he had been home so maybe that was all this was. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the TV and leaned his head back against the pillows, enjoying the comforts of home.

Hanging up your jacket, you swallow hard, seeing no new texts from Jihoon. You couldn’t blame him. There wasn’t anything else to say. You could hear the TV and Soonyoung’s soft laughter, which made you wish that things were as easy as he was making them seem.

“Soonie…babe? How…uh, how long are you home?”

Pursing his lips, Soonyoung glances towards the closet again, seeing a peek of your skin as you change into your classic choice of pajamas, a tank top, and short shorts. In one way, your question was a simple and normal one, but in another way, it seemed suspicious. Soonyoung decided to keep it simple and think that you were just curious about his plans.

“Wish it was longer, but... I fly out tomorrow night.”

Staring at the clothes in front of you, a scoff falls from your lips. The first thought on your mind is “What was the fucking point?” but you don’t say it out loud. Instead, you just pick up your phone and text Jihoon as you shake your head.

Y/N 💗: He flies out tomorrow night.

You don’t expect a text back, so you just hold your phone to your waist until you move to the bed, smiling at Soonyoung. Laying your phone face down, you plug it in, leaving it silent, before slipping under the covers and letting your boyfriend pull you in close to him with a happy groan.

“You aren’t mad at me, are you? I tried to find a better time but it’s so fucking busy. They keep trying to keep me on full time.”

Furrowing your brows, you look up at Soonyoung to gauge his expression but it’s almost impossible to judge. You start to realize you aren’t sure you know this man anymore.

“And what do you want to do?”

Shrugging, Soonyoung stumbles over his words before just smiling at you and running his fingers along your jaw.

“Right now? I just wanna kiss my beautiful girlfriend. I’ve missed you so fucking much, baby.”

You knew he was deflecting but you also didn’t want to argue. You didn’t have the strength or the will to fight with the one person who you had simultaneously missed and hated over the past few months. So you give in, closing your eyes as Soonyoung’s lips brush over yours. You take a breath as his hand slides along your waist and he pulls you closer before laying you on your back so he can lay on top of you.

Nothing feels the way it should. At one point in your life, you loved Soonyoung with every fiber of your being. His touch was electric; his mouth was like fire on your skin, but now you feel dull as he groans your name, his thigh pressed between your legs. It isn’t that it doesn’t feel good or that you aren’t able to get off on it; it’s more to do with the fact that you are picturing someone else in your bed.

Keeping your eyes shut tightly, you whine when Soonyoung’s lips brush over your stomach as his fingers tug your shorts down so he can lay between your thighs. He gasps at the sight of your wet folds before pulling them apart with his thumbs so he can run his tongue from your entrance all the way to your clit, causing you to arch off the bed.

With a smirk, Soonyoung can’t help but let how you are reacting go to his head. All he can think about is how good he makes you feel and how you taste on his tongue. In his mind, this is the first time you have had someone's tongue on your pretty pussy in months and it’s his alone.

“Fuccckk….kitten. My sweet girl. So fucking messy. Getting juice all over my face. You should just come back to Tokyo with me.”

Shaking your head, you want him to stop talking so you push Soonyoung’s head back down between your legs so that his mouth is flush with your pussy. Two fingers work their way into your tight hole and Soonyoung groans around your clit, feeling how you clench down on them. He practically growls when your fingernails scratch at his scalp, feeling like you finally cum for him, though you made him work for it.

Coming up for air, Soonyoung chuckles, looking down at you as you hide your face. You look so cute and shy. You remind him of when the two of you first got together and how innocent you had been before he rammed his cock into you, much like he was going to do now.

Watching your mouth fall open in a moan, Soonyoung bites at his bottom lip as his hands hold to your hips as he thrusts into you hard and fast. He had missed you and honestly, there was no one else like you. Nothing could compare to how your pussy would clench down on his cock and hold him inside of you like you were trying to keep him forever. God, how he wanted you to keep him forever in that moment, even if his mind momentarily slipped to Aimi whining on his bed.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Soonyoung falls on top of you. His mouth finds your neck as he bites and sucks deep marks that he hopes will stay for at least long enough for you to remember where he was. His thrusts grow impatient and uneven until finally you hear his high pitched groan against your skin when Soonyoung cums inside of you.

Tears roll from your eyes and along your temples as your hand rests on your forehead, the other against his back, feeling him push his cum back inside of you. At one point in your life, you would have loved that feeling but you knew at that moment that you didn’t love him anymore or at least you didn’t love him as much as you once did. How were you supposed to tell the person who was the love of your life something like that?

You wake up alone the next morning, your eyes swollen from crying yourself silently to sleep the night before. Turning to look for Soonyoung, you find nothing but an empty bed and his jacket slung over the chair in the corner. Only the smell of food cooking in the kitchen lets you know that you aren’t truly alone.

Reaching for your phone, you sniff back fresh tears as you check for new messages, seeing a couple from Jihoon that actually work to calm you down.

Hoon 💗: Then I’ll come over once he’s gone

Hoon 💗: You still got me, honey

Smiling, you run your thumb over the screen and send back a simple heart emoji before turning in the direction of where Soonyoung’s phone dings. Glancing towards the door, you lean over the bed and pick up his phone, looking at the lock screen and seeing a few messages from Aimi.

Aimi: So bored without you

Aimi: OMG come back already…

Aimi: 🥺

You know that you should feel hurt or angry when you see the messages but instead you find yourself suddenly indifferent as you turn Soonyoung’s phone face down on his nightstand and slide out of bed. Slipping on your robe, you make your way out towards the kitchen, putting on a smile as he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips with a sigh.

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

Humming, you slide on to a bar stool and look at the food he has made, noting you would have to go grocery shopping once again. It was a nice gesture on his part but when you were practically living on your own most days, paying rent on your own while your boyfriend was off living his dreams, you couldn’t just buy anything and everything you wanted.

“What time is your flight?”

Wincing, Soonyoung turns to take the juice out of the fridge, glancing towards the microwave for the time being before tilting his head back and forth before looking at you for sympathy.

“I’ll have to leave here around 2ish if I wanna make it through security and all that international shit on time.”

Glancing at the clock, you lift your brows and sigh before leaning your chin on your arm as Soonyoung pours two cups of juice, watching you closely.

“You aren’t mad at me? I know it’s a short visit but I wanted to at least try. I’ve missed you so much, kitten.”

Shaking your head, you pick up a piece of bacon and chew on it with a sigh from your nose before meeting his eyes.

“You have to do what you have to do, Soonyoung.”

Your indifference causes Soonyoung’s brows to furrow and his stomach to twist with anxiety but he still tries to offer you a smile. Taking a sip of his juice, he pushes yours towards you before looking at the fridge and seeing a picture of you and Jihoon smiling, heads pushed together. It looks innocent enough but it still makes his heart hurt. Gesturing towards it, Soonyoung clears his throat and licks his lips of any remaining juice.

“You and Jihoon have gotten pretty close.”

Looking at the picture, you can’t help but smile, remembering the day Jihoon went with you to the farmer’s market and how he hadn’t complained a single time. Shrugging at Soonyoung’s words, you look down at the food in front of you, pushing around the eggs before sighing softly.

“He’s a good person. He’s good to me. Don’t you want someone to be good to me?”

Narrowing his eyes, Soonyoung bites at his bottom lip at the accusation that seems to be lingering right under your question but instead of giving into his anger, he just looks down at his own plate of food and lets out a long, drawn out breath.

“Course I do, babe. I love you more than anything.”

Rolling your eyes, you think back to the text messages from Aimi and mutter under your breath that you doubt that, making Soonyoung lean his head in towards you over the counter in confusion.

“What did you say, baby? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Nothing, just said... I love you too.”

You had watched Soonyoung repack his carry-on and grab a couple of things out of your shared closet before he kissed you goodbye with a concerned look on his face. You only offer him a half smile, leaning against the door frame, as he looks back, telling you he will let you know when he lands and how much he loves you.

“Mmkay, have a safe flight.”

Pausing, Soonyoung licks his lips, lifting his hand to block the sun as he looks at you, trying to remember what it felt like when you were head over heels for him. Something was different. He knew it and so did you but neither of you were willing to say it.

Nodding as his gaze drops to the ground, Soonyoung can only let out a half amused laugh, realizing you hadn’t told him that you loved him back. Maybe it had been a mistake or just because you seemed so tired, but looking up and meeting your eyes—seeing the tears even from halfway down the driveway—he knew it wasn’t.

“Okay, babe.”

If this had been the old you—the old Soonyoung—you would have walked to the end of the driveway with him. You would have begged him not to go back and told him how much you loved him—to the end of the earth and back. But that wasn’t who either of you were anymore, so instead, you watched from the door as the car drove down the road before turning back inside and closing the door.

Normally, you would have shed tears and found yourself curled up in bed with your cellphone clenched against your chest, waiting for him to message you about his flight but this time you knew it was different. You felt like you could breathe. There was a sense of pain mixed with your relief—such a strange feeling that you couldn’t name.

Jihoon had waited half an hour to come over after Soonyoung had left for his flight. He had sent his texts to his best friend, wishing him a safe flight and all the usual pleasantries but at the heart of it, he was waiting to get back to you. It had been too long since he had seen your face in person and no matter how selfish he was feeling, Jihoon couldn’t make himself feel guilty about it anymore. You were his.

Using the key you had made for him, Jihoon unlocked your door and dropped his things on the side table before meeting your eyes from the couch, feeling relief wash over him. You were like a breath of fresh air.

“Hey, honey…”

Only when Jihoon speaks will your tears finally fall. You close your eyes and bring your hands up to cover your face, not wanting him to see you upset but he is the one who has seen you that way the most lately. Arms wrap around you and Jihoon kisses the side of your head as he whispers, It’s okay, only to feel you shake in his embrace. He isn’t sure what you are upset about, but it doesn’t actually matter. All that matters is that he’s going to make it better.

“They offered me a full position at the studio.”

Soonyoung sighed into his words as he looked down at his hand as Aimi slid hers into his. He wasn’t sure if he loved her but she felt nice. At least sometimes she did. Other times, she felt like guilt and regret, but today she felt like a friend and a lover.

“Are you gonna take it?”

She could be hopeful. For Aimi, this was starting to turn into love. She loved how Soonyoung looked at her sometimes and how he would hold her after he would fuck her into his mattress. Other times, she was reminded that she wasn’t you. She had no disillusion with who she was and what she was doing, but clearly Soonyoung wasn’t happy and neither were you.

Shrugging, Soonyoung leans back against his headboard, letting Aimi rest against his chest, her head against his jaw as he traces her fingers like she used to do with you. He missed moments like this with you, but he didn’t know you anymore. The woman he had fallen in love with was a million miles away, not just in distance but in other ways.

“Maybe…I dunno. I gotta talk to Y/N.” Shifting uncomfortably when he says your name, Soonyoung takes a deep breath and tightens his fingers around Aimi’s. “I go back home in a month. That’s when this job officially ends.”

Frowning to herself, Aimi looks out at the city skyline and says a silent prayer to herself that maybe Soonyoung will change his mind and stay. Maybe you will tell him to stay, but she keeps it to herself and only nods before meeting his eyes.

“Okay, well, whatever you decide, you know where I am.”

Soonyoung can hear the innocence in the girl’s voice and it almost makes him want to laugh. Not at Aimi or at her innocence but more at how, even in the situation, she seems so perfect. Brushing his lips over hers, Soonyoung takes in a breath of her perfume while at the same time letting it wash over his senses and push you further from his mind. She was right; he knew where she was but what he didn’t know was where you were.

You moan Jihoon’s name, only for him to swallow it with his kiss as his hands slide over your hips. Jihoon was enjoying the feeling of you sitting on his cock but each time you clenched around him, he felt like he was going to explode.

“Fuck, Y/N…”

Rolling your hips down over Jihoon, you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rests his head back against the headboard with a long, deep groan. You loved riding Jihoon, especially when you were at his place. Here were no pictures of Soonyoung, nothing you could accidentally make eye contact with as you asked for Jihoon to make you forget.

Jihoon was so good at making you forget. He was even better at making you want something different. Something that you didn’t think you could ever have because you belonged to someone else. Someone else was in love with you and you had made a promise to wait for him.

“Baby, if you don’t slow down, I’m gonna cum first.”

Shaking your head at Jihoon’s words, you feel his fingers dig into your hips as you whine against his jaw, not wanting to stop. Gritting his teeth, Jihoon groans your name once again before he feels himself unable to hold back anymore. You rest your forehead against his as you watch Jihoon’s mouth drop open and feel the warmth of his cum start to spill into you.

Catching his breath, Jihoon shakes his head with a wince, feeling you rock your hips over his softening cock. He knew you had a hard day and he didn’t mind letting you get out your frustrations in any way you wanted to but he still liked to make you feel good.

Lifting his hands, Jihoon shifts you back from him and cups your cheek to make you look at him as he licks his lips. You feel your cheeks instantly start to burn at his attention and his intense gaze, his eyes studying you as his fingers brush sweat from your temple.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Leaning your head back from him, you shake your head no, making Jihoon let out a disapproving breath. He knew there was a lot on your mind but he could only make you say as much as you were willing to. Running his thumb along your jaw, Jihoon nods, glancing towards his nightstand to see where your phone is plugged in. The light draws his eye but more so Soonyoung’s face, letting you know he is calling you.

“Soonyoung’s calling…”

Jihoon watches your eyes move to your phone and the way your body stiffens against his. You could ignore it; you had before in other circumstances but he hadn’t called today and you felt like you were made of glass.

A few more seconds pass before you slide from Jihoon’s lap and sit on the side of the bed before answering your phone. You swallow hard into your words, feeling Jihoon’s hand resting against your hip like an anchor.

“Hello?”

Soonyoung leans against his balcony door, glancing towards his bed, where Aimi sighs in her sleep as you finally answer your phone. You didn’t sound overjoyed to hear from him, but that was his usual greeting—it still hurt.

“Hey, baby. I just…”

You listen as Soonyoung scoffs into a sad laugh as you furrow your brows, trying to figure out how you are supposed to feel or respond. Shaking your head, you start to speak when he continues.

“Just—uh, I wanted to check in. Didn’t talk to you much today or yesterday. I mean, fuck, let’s be honest, we haven’t talked much since I got back.”

He wasn’t wrong. You could count the number of phone calls on two hands over the span of the last month and the text messages were not much better. Most were either one of you saying you were thinking of the other or checking in, but every time it felt like keeping up appearances.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I can try to do better if you want. I’ve just been busy, Soonyoung.”

Shaking his head, Soonyoung bites at his lip when you try to apologize and come up with an excuse without actually giving any real excuse. He knew he wasn’t any better but once again, it still hurt.

“No, it’s fine. I get it. I’m busy, too. Always fucking busy, right? That’s us…”

Tears sting your eyes, making your vision blurry as you hear the hurt in Soonyoung’s voice. Closing your eyes, the tears fall over your cheeks, only for you to try to sniff them back as quietly as possible. Hearing your tears, Jihoon sits up, moving closer to you, trying to pull you back towards him, only for you to shake your head.

When Soonyoung hears you crying, his own tears finally fall. Nodding, he lifts his free hand to wipe at his cheek with a groan before sniffing back the tears and pushing off the wall.

“But I’ll be home in a month, right? So we can just see what happens. Right, Y/N?”

You can hear the hope in his voice layered with all that sorrow and it only serves to break your heart more as you shake your head and shrug. Licking the salty tears from your lips, you lift your arm to wipe away your own tears before making yourself calm down.

“Yeah, a month, Soonie.”

The name Soonie makes Soonyoung close his eyes and drop his head. It used to make him smile when you’d call him the cute name and tell him how much you loved him but now it feels like his heart is breaking.

“Okay…goodnight, baby.”

Leaning your head back, you take a breath, letting it out as you hear the finality in Soonyoung’s words. The tone of his voice makes you wonder how hard he will try to stay in touch before he shows up back at home.

“Night. I love—”

Hearing the phone disconnect before you finish your sentence tells you everything you need to know.

Jihoon couldn’t help but watch the days tick by. Never in his life could he remember a month going by as quickly as this one seemed to. He wanted to hold on to each and every minute he had left with this little life he had made up with you but every single day passing was a reminder that it was ending.

He wondered, selfishly, if he just told you how he felt if you’d tell Soonyoung what was happening and ask him not to come home. But then he’d be hit with guilt. That never stopped his feelings or the urge to tell you how much he cared about you.

Holding you in his arms, your arm draped over his stomach as you traced some design made up in your head on his forearm, Jihoon watched you under the moonlight. There was less than a week left before Soonyoung would be back, laying where he was now. The thought of it made his stomach twist and his heart feel like it was breaking.

“Y/N, honey…”

You smile softly at the pet name, your lips pulling up against Jihoon’s skin, before you glance up at him, seeing questions in his eyes. That look had been there for a while now but it was as if he were afraid to say anything, afraid you’d run away. Maybe now was the time, before there was no time left.

“What…well—what happens when Soonyoung gets home?”

Your smile fades at Jihoon’s question because that wasn’t what you thought he was going to ask. You weren’t sure what he was going to ask but you hadn’t expected it to be about Soonyoung. Swallowing hard, you lay your head back down and look out your window towards the sky as if some sort of answer lies in the stars but nothing helps.

“I–Jihoon…I don’t know. I guess things just…”

Lifting your hand from his arm, you gesture into the air, trying to express your words as Jihoon’s eyes follow them, but it only serves to confuse him and make his heart beat faster. Shaking his head, Jihoon shifts under you, making you sit up as he does. You tilt your head with a whine, feeling his hands on either side of your cheeks as his eyes search for yours.

“Guess things, what? Go back to how they were. Seriously, Y/N? Is that what you fucking want?”

Closing your eyes, you feel tears welling up in your eyes at the questions leaving Jihoon’s mouth. You knew what you wanted the answers to be but life wasn’t always that simple. Holding your face still but gently, Jihoon swallows back his emotion with a curse under his breath as he watches your tears stream down your cheeks.

“Baby...come on. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you still love him. I mean, fuck, look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me!”

Lifting your hands, you hold Jihoon’s wrists as you keep your eyes shut tightly to try to save yourself from hurting him or lying. When Jihoon whines your name, tears are evident in his voice. You just shake your head and finally meet his eyes.

“It’s not that simple, Jihoon! Fuck! I wish it was! I want it to be, but god, it’s just not!”

Dropping his hands into your lap, Jihoon blinks tears from his eyes as he nods, understanding what you are trying to say. You watch as he turns his head away from you and furrows his brows before taking his hands from you and sliding off the bed. Your heart tightens in your chest as you reach for his hand, only for Jihoon to move it from your reach.

“I’m gonna head home.”

You shake your head, moving to your knees on the bed, a whine of Jihoon’s name on your lips when he turns back towards you to take your face back in his hands. Leaning to rest his forehead against yours, Jihoon sniffs back his tears as you cling to his forearms and whisper that you don’t want him to go.

“I have to, honey. Things go back to how they were, right?”

Kissing you softly, Jihoon only lingers for a moment before he presses his lips to your forehead and leaves you watching him from your bed, tears streaming down your face. You listen to the sound of your front door opening and closing before emotion ripples through your body and you find you can’t hold yourself upright anymore.

There was heartache when it came to Soonyoung but this felt worse. Now the walls that had built up around you were shattering around you and there was no safety left from the storm. You knew you had created the storm—though you hadn’t created it alone—it was yours to name and it was yours to weather.

You had forgotten how little Soonyoung had taken with him to Tokyo when he had left a year ago. You listened to the sound of water running as Soonyoung took his shower just down the hall from where you stood, unpacking his suitcase, bit by bit.

There are so many memories attached to items and then there are so many new things that you don’t recognize at all. For the few hours that Soonyoung had been home, the conversation had been light. There had been discussion about what you had planned for dinner and how his flight had gone.

“Y/N…uh babe…”

Soonyoung’s voice pulls you back to the present as you glance over your shoulder to look at him, his towel around his waist, a look of confusion on his face as he moves further into the room. Swallowing hard, he laughs awkwardly before gesturing to his suitcase on the bed.

“I can do that. You don't... just leave my shit alone.”

Gently moving your hands from one of his shirts, Soonyoung pulls the suitcase closer to him. Taking a step back, you scoff at your boyfriend before shaking your head and running your hand over your hair. You could feel the tension thickening in the air even as you turned away, leaving him in the bedroom alone with his shit.

Soonyoung hadn’t meant to upset you, but he wasn’t used to you being in his space anymore. He was used to you going through his things anymore. Groaning under his breath as he listens to the sound of you opening and closing cabinets in the kitchen louder than necessary, Soonyoung works to get dressed before staring at his suitcases, trying to decide where to start.

The idea was simple, the task seemed impossible. Put the clothes away and live like he had never left. But that wasn’t going to be so easy in a place where he didn’t feel like he belonged anymore.

You weren’t looking for things to annoy you about Soonyoung; however, it seemed that everything did now that he was home. You were reminded that he frequently forgot to put down the toilet seat and that he didn’t always put the lid back on the toothpaste. So as you sat on the couch near him after a silent dinner, he could feel the chill in the air, making him finally pause the unwatched movie on the TV.

“I was watching that.”

Shaking his head, Soonyoung turns to look at you, reaching for your hand, only to feel you start to pull away. He had expected it, but it still hurt. He was inches from you and he still felt like he was a world away.

“You weren’t, Y/N. You have been pissed off at me since I got out of the shower.”

Shrugging, you let Soonyoung run his thumb along your palm as he tries to calm you down, but all you can think about is how much you miss Jihoon and how it’s been days since he’s answered your texts. You can just feel how much your heart is in your throat because you can’t have him where Soonyoung is right now.

“No…I–”

“Just stop! I–fuck, Y/N! I’m home and it’s the same. I could be across the world and we’d be doing the same shit. So, when do we just stop? I can’t do this anymore. You–dammit…”

You stop talking as Soonyoung yells at you, his hand dropping yours as he leans back to run his hand over his face. You watch as tears collect in his eyes, all the emotion that he has been holding back rushing to the surface as he thinks about what he is doing and what it is going to mean. Gesturing towards you, Soonyoung feels like panicking and taking back his words before he even says them, but he already knows it’s too late.

“I fucked up. I…I–I slept with someone else, Y/N and I—”

Shaking his head, Soonyoung watches as your brows furrow and the tears that had been collecting in your eyes fall down over your cheeks. Lowering his head, he reaches back out for your hand, taking it into his before meeting your eyes and taking a breath before speaking.

“I’m sorry —”

“I don’t think that I love you anymore, Soonyoung.”

Your words cut off his, making Soonyoung stop suddenly. Perhaps he knew that you didn’t love him anymore but hearing it out loud felt like a bomb going off in his chest. You feel his hands tremble around yours as he lets out a shaky breath and nods, trying to form the right words only to start and stop making you speak up first.

“I slept with Jihoon. I–I’m in love with Jihoon. I’m sorry…”

Letting go of your hand, Soonyoung rubs his hand over his mouth when you confess what you have done to him. He knew the two of you had gotten close, and now knowing he wasn’t so crazy for being suspicious made Soonyoung’s heart drop into his stomach.

“What the fuck, Y/N…”

It’s you that reach out for Soonyoung’s hand, only for him to pull them away harshly, his eyes meeting yours with disdain before they soften slightly. He knew he was being hypocritical. He had done exactly what you had done but it felt worse because it was Jihoon. It felt personal because it was his best friend and his girlfriend.

“I thought...fuck, I don't know what I fucking thought. That I’d tell you what a fuck up I was, and you and I would start over.” Sighing into a groan, Soonyoung leans his head forward, feeling you run your hand over his cheek as he continues. “We both fucked up, Y/N. Real bad…”

Looking up to try to stop more tears, you only feel more fall and drip along your neck as you nod along with Soonyoung’s words. The truth was painful, but it was better than the lies that you had used to build up some fake security around yourself to hide from the pain.

“We just…we fell out of love, Soonyoung.”

Sitting in silence, seconds turn to minutes and minutes turn to an hour before Soonyoung finally stands up and draws your attention with him. You watch as the man shrugs and wipes his tears from his cheeks before he holds out his hands as if laying out everything on the table.

“I was offered the job at the studio as a full-time position. I had told them I was going to think about it… but I–I’m gonna take it, Y/N.”

You can only nod as Soonyoung lets out a breath before shaking his head as if that’s all he has left to say and walks from the room, leaving you alone on the couch. The emotions you find are like waves in moments of extreme change. You are washed over with relief from telling the truth and then pushed back with pain from the end of a relationship, only to be washed over with the feeling of hope.

It was raining the morning that Soonyoung left for the airport and you were left with an extra set of keys. You had spent time walking around the rooms, picking up the last bits of your relationship. It seemed that with each picture you collected or each stuffed animal you put away, the rain would fall harder along with your tears, making you only think of one person.

Jihoon.

He didn’t know what had happened and you knew you had put him through enough. Just the thought of him as you moved into the kitchen, seeing the picture of the two of you at the farmer’s market, was enough to break your resolve and cause you to find yourself less than an hour later at his door, shivering from the rain.

The storm had only gotten worse throughout the day so hearing his doorbell and your voice calling his name from his door made Jihoon’s heart drop to his stomach. A list of reasons you could be at his door came to his mind as he made his way to you. Soonyoung had been in an accident, you had been hurt, something terrible had happened, or maybe just—no, you couldn’t be there for him.

Opening his door, Jihoon’s breath is taken away by seeing you after so many days, your hair and clothes soaked as you shiver from the rain. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you in and looked you over for any signs of injury but all he could find were your tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks.

“What are you doing, Y/N? Why…why didn’t you grab a coat or something? You’re gonna get sick…”

Shaking your head, you just smile, wrapping your arms around Jihoon’s neck, pulling him close to you, and making him take in a deep breath as you suddenly hug him. He could feel his clothes becoming instantly soaked, but he couldn’t find any reason to care as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close as you clung to him.

“I’m so sorry, Jihoon. I’m so stupid. I love you so much.”

Confusion is what hits Jihoon first when you tell him that you love him. He thinks he is hearing things but you say it again and Jihoon holds you even tighter before letting out a shaky breath.

“I love you too. Tell me what’s going on, honey.”

Letting Jihoon finally move away from you so he can look at your face once again, you lean into his touch as you recount the past couple of days. You explain the fight with Soonyoung and the confessions. Wincing at the idea of Soonyoung’s pain, Jihoon’s brows furrow as he runs his hand along your cheek before resting his forehead against yours.

“He’s right, we did this all fucking wrong, baby. I hate that it happened like this, but... I don’t regret it. I can’t…”

Nodding along with Jihoon, you grab at his shirt, pulling him back close to you as you tell him you love him again and claim your first kiss in days from him. Jihoon’s brows furrow deeply, feeling your lips on his, making him want more after missing you so much.

With a small grunt on your lips, Jihoon tugs you close and lifts you, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so he can carry you down the hall towards his bedroom. Hearing you whine into the kiss, he smiles and shakes his head, only to nip at your lips when he turns into the bathroom and places you on the counter.

“Stay right here…”

Jihoon smirks to himself upon hearing you whisper his name, your fingers clinging to his shirt even as he pulls away from you to lean into the shower, turning it on. You watch as steam starts to fill the room and as Jihoon tugs his shirt over his head before kicking his sweatpants off, leaving him bare in front of you. There was something different about seeing him now, his body on display for you as his blonde hair started to fall from its low bun. You knew he was yours and he was seeing you as his.

“Gotta get you outta those wet clothes, honey. You are gonna get sick; I don’t want that.”

Biting at your lip, you lift your arms as Jihoon tugs at your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You close your eyes, leaning your head back and relishing the feeling of his soft lips pressing to the swell of your breasts over your bra as his fingers work the clasp loose.

“Mm, not gonna get sick, Hoonie. Oh, fuck…”

You whine out a moan, leaning back against the mirror, when Jihoon’s mouth wraps around your nipple, your bra falling to the floor. Smiling against your skin, Jihoon glances up even at such a close distance to watch your mouth fall open in a moan of his name as he uses his free hand to roll the other hardening bud between his index finger and thumb.

With a soft popping sound, Jihoon lets go of your breasts, moving from one to the other, letting you squirm on the counter with him between your thighs. Sliding your fingers over his arms and the other hand through his hair, you arch your chest towards Jihoon’s mouth as you mutter a quiet plea for more, telling him how much you missed him.

“Yeah? Did you miss me? How much?”

Fingers push into the top of your pants as you lift your hips, letting Jihoon work them down your legs. You try to articulate your words to let Jihoon know how much you missed him, but just incoherently mutters his name and please fall from your lips, making him smirk as his hands push your thighs apart, letting him see how wet you have gotten just from his teasing.

“Shit…You are so pretty. How am I gonna let you go home?”

Shaking your head, you meet Jihoon’s eyes as he moves down to his knees in front of the bathroom counter, pulling you to the edge. The warmth of his tongue running from your entrance to your clit sends a shockwave through your body. Your skin erupts with chill bumps and your toes point as you try to lift your hips from the counter.

Pushing your hips down with one arm, Jihoon groans to your taste as if committing it to memory just in case something were to happen again and he were to not get you back into his bed. Your fingers dig into his hair, feeling Jihoon’s mouth wrap around your clit, only for him to lap his tongue around the bundle of nerves, making your thighs shake.

“Don’t wanna…ah! Don’t wanna go home without you, Jihoon. Fuck!”

Your words almost cause Jihoon to pull back from what he is doing, but your hand keeps his head between your legs as your orgasm rips through you and your cum begins to drip on to his waiting tongue. Groaning at your taste, Jihoon uses his lips to pull at your soft folds, listening to the sounds of your whines as he overstimulates you until you start to close your thighs around his head. Only then does he smile against your pussy, placing one last kiss on your wet folds before standing back up to claim your lips, letting you taste yourself in his mouth.

Your words hadn’t gone by without him noticing, but Jihoon still had much on his mind and wanted in you. Feeling you gasp on his lips, Jihoon picks you up once more and walks with you into his shower, letting the door close behind him. You sigh against his lips as he puts you up against the tile wall, letting the warm water rain down over the both of you.

Smiling against your lips, Jihoon slides his hands along your legs, letting you stand on one, keeping the other at his hip as he speaks between kisses. You can only furrow your brows and let out a moan, feeling his cock slide into you slowly. The stretch is welcomed and intense as Jihoon pins you against the shower wall.

“You don’t want to go home without me?”

Shaking your head, you gasp, feeling Jihoon bottom out inside of you. Fingers scratch along the back of your leg towards your knee as Jihoon moves his kisses to your jaw and then your neck, leaving bites and marks on his way to your ear as you moan his name at your answer.

“Uh huh… miss you. Please, oh fuck… don’t stop.”

With your earlobe between his lips, Jihoon smiles, feeling you clench down on his cock when he thrusts into you hard and deep. He wasn’t in a rush. He wanted to feel every bit of you around him and he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him as if he were made for you. Jihoon wanted to fill you full of him in every single way, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud to you in the moment, as his hand moved over your stomach, gently pushing down over your lower abdomen.

“I’m not gonna stop, baby… fuck…I wanna be this deep in you all the fucking time.”

Jihoon had dirty talk with you before, especially when you had asked him to be rough with you, but this was different. You could feel how deep he was inside of you and you could almost feel how true his words were. You wanted as much as he did. Laying your hand over his, you gasp as Jihoon’s eyes meet yours with a hard thrust, sending you over the edge once again.

“Good girl, good fucking girl. Cum for me, honey.”

Watching you fall apart for him was almost better than anything Jihoon could physically experience until your walls clenched around him like a vice. Your hips roll towards him and Jihoon is a goner. Any intention he had to hold back his own climax is gone as he groans your name and bites at your lips, pushing his cum into you with each thrust.

By the time you and Jihoon catch your breath, the water starts to go cold. Smiling on your lips, Jihoon slides his tongue against yours for one more deep kiss that makes your mind go blank before he has you on your own two feet once again.

You rely on him to keep you upright as he laughs when you start to complain about the cold water as he finishes cleaning between your legs. Jihoon just looks at you with love and wonder as he helps you out of the shower and wraps a towel around you, knowing you are his.

When you finally wake up in Jihoon’s bed a few hours later, you are happy to find him beside you, his arm under your head, as the moon shines through his window. Turning towards him, you can’t help the urge to run your fingers over his cheek and nose, making Jihoon flinch at your touch and open his eyes slowly to find you looking at him.

“Mm, why aren’t you still asleep, honey?”

Sliding closer to Jihoon, you let him hold you in his arms and press his lips to your forehead. The guilt that got you here washed away with the rain of the storm that you had created. He had weathered it with you and kept you safe even when you felt like you were drowning.

“Was just missing you. I love you, Jihoon.”

Closing his eyes, Jihoon shakes his head and sighs tiredly as you kiss his jaw. He was never going to get tired of hearing that.

“I love you too, honey.”

#seventeen smut #woozi smut #hoshi smut #svthub #svt smut #jihoon smut #soonyoung smut #seventeen angst #woozi angst #hoshi angst #svt angst #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #jihoon x reader #soonyoung x reader #seventeen toxic #seventeen fluff

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heartkyeom · 11 months

Text

be sweet

prince!hoshi x princess!reader (svthub garden collab)

word count: 18.7k

warnings: arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, modern royalty au, family issues, descriptions of food, unprotected sex

tag list (only svthub members since I’m revamping my tag list): @bitchlessdino @wondernus @idyllic-ghost @strawberryya @junkissed

notes: oh my god I finally have another fic out!! this one was truly a labor of love, thank you to all the svthub members that beta read any part of this story. this fic is for the @svthub garden collab and I am extremely grateful for the network’s help with this story <3 I’m very happy that this aligned with hoshi’s birthday! and a big big thank you to my beloved @wondernus for making this amazing header for me!!! as always, I hope y’all enjoy this and please leave feedback through reblogs !!!! and the title is based off the amazing song be sweet by japanese breakfast, listen along to it if you’d like!

The day’s events shouldn’t have felt so taxing, yet they were. There were only a few meetings you had to sit in on, both not requiring full participation. That sounded easy enough for you to handle, you were used to the rigor of royal meetings for years now.

It was easy enough to brush off any requests with a short comment of approval or neutrality, never expressing a thought of negativity unless the guest was close to your family.

You didn’t pull the princess card very often, especially since your meetings mainly consisted of fellow royals who knew the pressure of the job, but today felt different.

Maybe it was the dull pressure that resided in your head, making it hard to focus on the topics at hand. You curse yourself for not taking some kind of headache relief earlier, but now it has lodged itself in the middle of your brain.

You almost work up the nerve to speak up, but your aide beats you to it.

“Princess,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, “there's an urgent matter. We should leave immediately.” Her hushed tone makes your heart clench.

You could only hope no one in your family was hurt. You silently nod and clear your throat, bringing attention to yourself.

“I’m so sorry, but something urgent came up. I have to go, but please make sure to send me any notes and I’ll be sure to review them before we meet again,” You offer the room a small smile, enough to garner empathetic nods from the room.

You let out a shaky breath and stand from your seat, your aide trailing slightly behind your side as you both exit the room in silence.

“What’s going on?” You ask hesitantly.

“Someone has requested a private meeting with you, they asked to keep their identity a secret. Everyone in the family is okay, don’t worry,” The aide turns her head slightly to make sure she can see your response.

You can’t help but ask about your family first, it’s the only thought you have as the only child.

If someone’s passed on, you’re stepping up to handle the situation, and the emergency plans start to kick into high gear.

Luckily, that nightmare can remain at rest.

“Okay,” you nod slowly, trying to process who could want a private meeting with you.

Is an elder statesman concerned about his country? An estranged family member asking for a favor? It really could be anything or anyone.

You both keep a consistent pace through the cavernous halls of the royal estate, your footsteps echoing loudly with each step. You soon arrive at one of many conference rooms, and you’re surprised to see your aide face her back towards the door, she steps aside to let you walk in.

“I’ll be out here if you need anything, lest it escalates to that point,” She raises her eyebrows at you before looking away. That wasn’t a reassuring sign.

You brace yourself before going inside, but nothing seems to prepare you for who’s waiting.

“Hi, lovely.” Kwon Soonyoung smiles at you in a menacingly sweet kind of way, it makes your blood boil.

He’s dressed much nicer than you’re used to seeing him, he’s the type to wear baggy clothes that swallow him whole. In contrast, today he wears a crisp button-down with black slacks, his suit coat nowhere to be found. His signature designer sneakers are exchanged for loafers instead. There’s no logical reason why he could be here, considering his own busy schedule as a prince.

Soonyoung isn’t flying in for a private conversation just for the hell of it.

“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance.

“That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth.

You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.

Most princesses knew to let each other know that if they were charmed by him, Soonyoung was ultimately not marriage material. If anything, he was determined to make himself the least suitable husband possible.

He was the typical sweet boy turned party animal, spending most nights abroad drinking his days away with a new girl in his bed every night. He does show up to the occasional political obligation, but only when his team forces him to. That’s one reason why he bothers you so much, he has such little duty to his native country of Aranorin and the people in it that everyone else has to make him care about it.

“You’re joking, there’s no fucking way,” Your body vibrates from laughter, but you slowly come to your senses once you see he’s not cracking another joke.

“I’m not joking, I’m here to start our courtship.” His serious tone makes you start to consider the gravity of the situation.

“Hold on, so you think you can just come into Maritria, coming from god knows where,” You make a broad gesture toward him before continuing, “to formally start our relationship. That’s what you’re saying,” You cross your arms, returning to your originally defensive stance.

“Yes, this isn’t just coming out of thin air. This has been in the works for a few months now,” He raises his eyebrows to punctuate the timeline. It just makes you even more confused. Why wouldn’t anyone tell you about this?

“What do you mean?” You question.

He braces himself one last time. “I’ve been speaking to the king and queen about arranging our marriage for two months,” You almost think his face goes slightly sympathetic at his admission, but that’s wishful thinking.

Regardless, it’s a blow to your ego.

How could they not tell you? How could they so easily shift the responsibility onto him without saying a word?

It would be one thing if they were still considering other men, but to know the talks were final, that Kwon Soonyoung was your future husband whether you liked it or not, was a devastating realization.

“This is unbelievable.” You let out a shaky whisper, you’re so rattled that you force yourself to sit down and close your eyes, willing yourself to take a deep breath.

You open your eyes to see him hovering near you, clearly a stifled attempt to try and comfort you. Yet, he’s the least comforting person you’ve ever known.

“I don’t want to do this either. You’re definitely not my first choice for a wife.” He scoffs at the possibility that he could ever choose you without incentive.

“Yeah, clearly. You’d rather want a girl who would kiss your ass every day instead of being honest with you.” You retort.

The gossip that flitted between young royals all but confirmed your suspicion that he dumped any girl that tried to make a long-term connection with him. It was fine if he didn’t want to get married. Not all royals are meant for it, and he didn’t have as much pressure to marry off as the youngest child. He could get away with being a lifetime bachelor, but choosing that lifestyle wasn’t worth hurting other people in the process.

“Aw, is lifetime celibacy boring you that much to the point where you’re worried about the girls I sleep with?” He cracks a smile that you match with a forced laugh.

“No, I just think you dump them as soon as they realize how small your dick is.” You smile through your response, causing him to form his arms together.

“You’re so lucky now that we’re together, you can finally stop waiting for those nice guys who don’t have a personality to sweep you up,” His condescending tone makes you frustrated but not deterred from bantering completely.

“So I can end up dating one of your dickhead friends instead? Absolutely not,” You shake your head knowing how insufferable most of his friends are. Soonyoung just happened to be the worst of them.

“All jokes aside, I know you’re perfectly aware of why we’re getting married. I don’t have to look at the news to know things are bleak,” His straightforward approach forces you to swallow the lump in your throat.

You knew the country’s finances were not great.

You didn’t want or need to see the exact numbers, especially if it makes your day-to-day duties labored with worry. Although many political teams insist that princesses have no business in the logistical affairs of running a country, it meant everything to you to know how your country was faring in the world. Maritria already maintained a longstanding connection with Aranorin that gave your country some freedom to pursue other lucrative opportunities, but it dawned on you that it wasn’t enough.

“I’m doing this for my country, not out of some pathetic excuse you may have to avoid self-reflection. You can just get married to me and stop pretending to be a good person, right?” You ask bitingly.

“We both know I stopped pretending a long time ago. Marrying the nation’s sweetheart is just a bonus,” He smirks unapologetically, you don’t like the way the nickname sits on his tongue as if it’s his own.

“Is there anything else you want? I need to get back to work,” You stand up from your seat, trying not to look back at the door while you plot your escape. It was hard enough not to completely explode at him, and you needed to redirect your energy elsewhere.

“There is, I got you something,” He retrieves a small velvet box from his pocket. “It’s not an engagement ring, but just consider it a courtship gift.”

You open the box and lightly examine the ring. You know it’s far too expensive than most of the jewelry you’ve ever worn. Your family was wealthy, but Soonyoung’s family had the kind of money that you didn’t need to plan so carefully around. However, you don’t want to seem so easily impressed.

“It’s fine. When are you planning on proposing?” You brush him off easily.

“That ruins the surprise.” He smiles at you yet your face remains stoic.

“I’ll get your number from someone else, I don’t want to drag this out anymore.” You stuff the box in your dress pocket and start to make your way toward the exit.

“It’s been horrible to see you again, Your Royal Highness.” His stiffly formal greeting makes you turn around to face him.

You squint your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“The Royal Highness thing,” You point at yourself before continuing, “I’m not gonna say Your Royal Highness every time we’re in private. Don’t start giving a shit now.”

“Fine. Bye, darling.” He quips.

Your face contorts into disgust before you can stop yourself. “You’re not gonna make that my mandated wife nickname.”

“You don’t get to choose the nickname I give you, honey.” He approaches you and pinches your cheek before speaking, “Besides, it’ll be fun to try to figure out how to mask my hate for you in public.”

You cringe at his touches, but you straighten up immediately.

“Likewise,” You offer a tight-lipped smile before finally leaving the room.

You close the door behind you and take the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Can you clear my schedule for the rest of the day? I need time to deal with this,” You finally look at your aide with an expectant glance.

“Yes, of course, princess.” She immediately grabs her phone to send notices to those involved. You can’t even remember who you were meant to see for the rest of the day. Your mind simply wanders to your parents, the next targets of your rage.

“I’m gonna go home. I don’t want to see anyone unless it’s my parents. Or him, not that I want him around anyways,” You roll your eyes at the thought of having to voluntarily communicate with him on a regular basis.

“Sounds good. I have his phone number, if you’d like it.” She offers.

“Ok,” You agree and quickly input his phone number. As you type in a contact name, you’re not sure what to call him.

Soonyoung is far too casual, it doesn’t feel comfortable yet. You’re absolutely not calling him by his title, not by a long shot.

The romantic pet names similar to the ones he used with you were not earned, so it left you stumped.

You settle on “headache,” because the ache in your temple is still there, bothering you immensely and now he’s adding to it.

You’re just lucky that you didn’t end up shouting at each other this time.

—

As if they could read your mind, your parents call you in for an emergency meeting before you can make it home. That pent-up rage is starting to make its way out before you even see them, it shows in the way you stomp to your father’s main office, marching far ahead of your aide.

You open the door without knocking, a major sign that you’re not looking forward to the discussion.

Your father gives you a warning look, but you’re not bothered by it. The staff turns their attention toward your bold entrance, immediately preparing themselves to leave.

Your father is sitting in his velvet study chair, poised as always. Your mother stands behind your father, idly leaning her weight against the back wall.

Her demeanor is not as composed, as if she knows you’re about to raise hell.

“We’d like a private meeting, thank you,” He gives a pained smile to the staff and they all file out silently. You watch them with a fiery gaze, waiting for the last person to close the door behind you.

When the door finally shuts, you whip your gaze to face them again.

“Soonyoung? Are you kidding me?” You exclaim.

“Y/N, please,” Your mother tries to intercept, but you’re faster than that.

“Actually, I’d like to know exactly why I was left out of the conversation about me having an arranged marriage, to begin with,” You cross your arms and lean back in your chair, preparing yourself for a bullshit excuse.

“Well, we were anticipating this kind of reaction,” he gestures at you in disapproval, “you weren’t meant to be involved in these discussions in the first place.” He speaks to you so patronizingly that it almost catches you off guard.

“So you can just decide that I’m getting married on a whim, just like that.” You snap your fingers impatiently.

“You know how the country is currently faring, you knew marriage could possibly be an option for financial security almost a year ago. Please don’t act like this is some affront to you,” Your father slowly raises his voice, fists slowly clenching as he elaborates.

“Yes, but you didn’t tell me things were this bad. You didn’t tell me that you had tried everything else. Hell, you didn’t even tell me that you were starting discussions about marriage!” You were trying your best to keep your voice even, but the defeat was starting to show through.

“We ultimately thought leaving you in the dark was best, but we miscalculated.” Your mother tries to cover for your father’s stern approach. You scoff, turning away for a moment before continuing.

Miscalculated is an understatement. You were devastated.

Your father seems to be annoyed that you were showing this much emotion while your mother seems ashamed that the situation has escalated this far. Their conflicting expressions just made you feel even worse, knowing that they couldn’t act as a united front. You wished that it was either complete anger or support from both of them.

“Soonyoung. You can’t possibly tell me he was the only option,” You turn back to them with glossy eyes.

“Sweetheart, you know Arinorin is one of our most important allies. Soonyoung would have always been an option. Even if there were better options, we couldn’t ignore him.” Her comforting tone does little to comfort you at the moment.

A tear finally falls onto your cheek. Her words hurt because she was right. Even if there was a perfect prince waiting for you out there, he wasn’t the prince of Arinorin.

“He hates me, you don’t see how much he hates me.” You shake your head and cover your face with your hands. You’re fully sobbing into your hands and it leaves your parents speechless. You know they’re looking at you with full judgment, but it didn’t matter.

“You’re giving your only daughter away to a man who despises her.” You seethe through your tears.

“He hasn’t given us any reason not to trust him.” Your father speaks up again and it breaks you down even further. He has that immovable stare on his face that signals his word is final.

You compose yourself before speaking again.

“When we get a divorce, it’ll be your fault.” You lift your hand to your cheeks, wiping away any stray tears left on your face.

“You’re being ridiculous, you’re saying that you won’t even try for your country?” Your father shifts in his seat, it seems like he wants to jump up and fully lecture you but it won’t happen.

You finally snap. “I have tried for this country! Every day, I have shown both of you what I’m capable of as a future queen, not asking you for anything. Now, the one part of my life where I should have control, choosing the person I’m married to, I have none.” By the time you finish speaking, your tears are gone by sheer will. Your eyes burn with the familiar sting of fatigue mixed with anger bubbling over the surface.

“I’m sorry, dear.” You see your mother wipe a tear of her own. You were grateful that she saw through you, at least at this moment. It was a quiet show of support that you needed amongst all these difficult feelings.

You put your head in your hands for a moment before looking up at them. “I’m going home and someone will send me the things I need to wrap my head around this entire situation.” Your tone is far more measured compared to before.

Before you can hurt your own feelings by hearing them out, you decide to make your exit. You’re nearly out of the door before you turn around again, letting go of the doorknob.

“I’ll always remember that he told me first instead of you.” With that, you leave without looking back at their expressions.

Hopefully, it’ll hurt like hell for them to hear it.

You ignore the staff members that were peering near the door, eagerly waiting to see who would break first. You’re sure that it looks dramatic, but you were far too concerned with your own feelings before anyone else’s.

—

Once you made it home, you were attempting to forget the stress of the day and it was going relatively well. You were able to catch up on a TV show you’d been forgetting to watch, and finally remembering to do self-care tasks that were left unattended due to your work.

Now, you’re taking a bubble bath with no intention of opening your eyes anytime soon. You needed to just sit, you didn’t have much time to do that most days.

The water is still fairly hot, enough to where you can sink down and continue to salvage any remaining calmness you might’ve had left.

Thus, your vibrating phone didn’t exactly make you feel at ease. You hope that it wasn’t one of your parents, considering your conversation didn’t have a clean finish. Any of their apologies would be falling on stubborn ears.

You glance at your lock screen and if anything, it’s worse.

It’s him. You pick up the phone with an anxious hand and press the accept button.

“What do you want?” You snap at him.

“You actually picked up!” He notes with a hint of surprise.

“Trust me, I didn’t want to.” You shift uncomfortably in the bathtub, the sloshing water calling you out immediately.

“Is that water? What are you doing?” His curious nature already annoys you, so it’ll be easier to dodge the question.

“None of your business.” Your free hand cups the remaining bubbles in the bath.

“Oh my god, is the princess naked on the phone with me?” He sounds far too pleased with himself. You can practically hear his shit-eating grin in the way he replies.

“You’re a horny little freak who hasn’t told me why he’s called yet.” You force yourself to sit up now that the relaxation in your body is quickly dissipating.

“Right. We’re doing intimacy coordination tomorrow. I figured you didn’t look at that schedule they gave you.”

“Shit.” You sigh just out of earshot.

Intimacy coordination isn’t common at all with arranged royal marriages. If a couple looked like they had never met before in their life, it was typically on them for not being more convincing. Yet, the number of public events you two have to be involved in over the foreseeable future warranted different circumstances. If you couldn’t look head over heels for each other at the wedding, it was going to spell trouble for both countries.

“I’m only in town until tomorrow night, so I don’t have to look at your face for much longer than that,” You sigh at his response, knowing that he’s not one to hold back with you.

“I wish you could leave sooner, maybe I could actually enjoy not seeing you even more than I already do.” You reach to open the drain.

“Just practicing my future husband duties by stressing you out, love,” You can practically hear his smile through the phone.

“That one isn’t bad, actually,” Your thoughts trail off once you hear it, but he brings you back to reality almost immediately.

“So that’s definitely not what I’m gonna call you.”

“I’m hanging up.” Your waning patience with him has officially run out and you’re itching to move on with your night.

“Bye, honey!” He’s laughing uncontrollably through the response and it makes your blood boil. It’s clear that this is already a joke to him.

“Fuck off,” You hang up before you have to listen to his laughter any longer. You put your head in your hands and let out a muffled scream.

He already wanted to make this courtship as excruciating as possible.

You finally stand up from the bath and wrap a warm towel around your body, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

Luckily, your parents did listen to your request and a massive document of schedules and timelines of your relationship with Soonyoung appeared in your email inbox.

You had only skimmed the schedule before Soonyoung called you, you stopped looking at it before it stressed you out beyond repair.

According to the timeline your parents created in accordance with his team, you were supposed to have been dating for 11 months at this point.

You can’t possibly imagine putting up a front for 11 months, but then again, you would have to pretend for the rest of your life.

That thought haunts you through the rest of your night routine.

How do you carve your life around Soonyoung when he’s creeping his way into everything?

How do you find peace when you’re with someone who’s determined to misunderstand you?

These questions have you wiping your tears as you attempt to fall asleep that night.

—

To your dismay, the intimacy training was first thing in the morning.

You were barely conscious, but somehow you arrived early with a slightly cloudy mentality and an overall dread for the next 2 hours.

You were the first of the three, besides your personal staff members, to arrive at the dance studio. You figured the space was far too big for what you were working through today, but you forego criticism to admire the room.

Admittedly, you didn’t go into many of the creative spaces throughout the palace because you weren’t a creative type. The arts were simply something you admired from afar, you didn’t have the talent even as a child to pursue these things seriously.

This apparently needed to be remedied as you notice the sweeping mirrors around the perimeter of the room. The hardwood floors were practically shining underneath your feet. You’re sure that whoever used the room was sure to enjoy themselves.

You’re admiring yourself in the mirror when you catch Soonyoung entering the room. He quietly greets the staff, giving short bows to everyone in sight.

It’s the only time you’ve seen him act with a royal demeanor, even in his casual workout clothes it’s a bit surprising to see him this way.

He makes his way over to you with a smile on his face.

“You’re early.” He eyes you up and down.

“Unfortunately, yes. You look.. comfortable.” You don’t mean to raise your voice up another octave, but you were just barely attempting niceties.

“So do you, you actually don’t look like you're trying too hard for once.” He leans against the mirror and gives you another judgmental look.

“It’s far too early in the morning to play this game, Kwon Soonyoung. Don’t get your feelings hurt.” You close your eyes before you get too angry, a slight change of pace from your typical interactions with him.

“It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be more awkward considering you’ve only had two boyfriends, one who looked like he was your son.” He stifled a giggle.

“Chan was so sweet.” You pouted at the thought of your teenage boyfriend. He really was kind, probably the perfect first boyfriend that you could ask for. You remember how much he cried when you broke up with him. You just weren’t the same person you were when you started dating him at 16, so you needed the space to grow apart.

Unfortunately, Soonyoung was right about the mom thing.

“It’s not my fault I had a growth spurt and the stylists kept dressing me like a divorce lawyer.” You insisted.

You recalled how harsh the style blogs were on you back then, many claimed that you’d never find your own personal style as long as other people kept dressing you older than you actually were. Unfortunately, they were also right. You live and learn though.

However, you didn’t even want to think about your second boyfriend.

“I’m just saying good chemistry doesn’t come naturally to all of us, it’s okay to ask for help.” His faux concern was especially irritating.

You weren’t that awkward with men, were you?

You didn’t have much time to consider an answer before a young woman walked into the studio.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both! My name is Elise and I’ll be leading you both through training today.” She offers her hand out to you for a handshake and you accept with a smile. She does the same to Soonyoung and moves toward the mirror.

“So, how long have you known each other?” She dives right into discussions with the question.

“Around 15 years or so?” The number that came out of your mouth was definitely a rough estimate, but it sounded about right.

You vaguely remember being introduced to Soonyoung and his older siblings at a fancy state dinner as a child. He was far less mischievous then, a bit timid around everyone except his family. Since then, you’ve ran into each other regularly due to the relationship between your parents. They were far closer to each other than you were with him and his siblings, so the situation feels a bit ironic now.

“Okay, but I’m assuming you haven’t been in contact very often?” She clarifies.

“Not at all.” He chimes in.

“Right, so we’ve got our work cut out for us then. Today isn’t gonna be too complicated, you’re just gonna be trying some physical activities to see how natural that looks.” Elise smiles in order to lighten the mood, but you’re certain it won’t work out.

“So, what are we gonna practice, hugging?” He scoffs, and you’re certain that he thinks this is all bullshit. You weren’t happy about it either, but keeping up appearances was the most important part of this.

“Yes, I know that sounds weird, but I promise it’ll pay off,” Elise continues to offer reassuring statements, but he’s not convinced and frankly, neither are you. You exchange a glance with him and decide to take the lead as the awkwardness continues to sit in the air.

“So where should we start?” You ask out of a mix of curiosity and dread.

“Let’s just have you both hold hands.”

Soonyoung extends a hand out to you with a smirk on his face. You’d rather slap him, but you’d think it would leave Elise traumatized.

You take his hand a bit too forcefully and adjust yourself within his hold. By glancing at the two of you in the mirror, you notice two things.

First, his hands are warm, a bit too warm for this moment.

Secondly, his thumb is absentmindedly brushing against the back of your hand. You can’t call attention to it or else it’ll stop, and you decide in the moment that it’s too relaxing. He probably doesn’t even notice that he’s doing something so romantic, that little bastard.

“Okay, so how does that feel?” Elise asks.

“Fine.” The reply forces itself out of your mouth.

“It’s fine.” He agrees with a nod of his head. He also peers at the both of you in the mirror with a slight curiosity, his head tilting slightly.

“We do look good together, though.” He murmurs to himself. You’re not sure if it’s the arrogance peeking through and he only believes you look good while he’s with you, but maybe for a second, you can see what he’s talking about.

“Good, and what’s a small physical gesture you can do to make each other feel at ease?” Elise’s question causes you to look up at him.

This feels unnecessary since Soonyoung is not a nervous person. No matter what, his particularly frustrating charm and gregarious personality never allow any anxiety to show to others.

“I can just do this.” He calls attention to the thumb thing and that puts you on the spot.

He seems incapable of needing comfort. It’s one of the things that keeps a silent distance between the two of you. You believe that he remains emotionally stunted in order to navigate his world a bit easier.

He can let the girls who want something more from him down easy, and they don’t realize how bad it really felt to be pushed away until they never see him again.

You didn’t want to end up in that position.

“I don’t know.” You let your mind wander for a moment.

Yet, he was bold. He was always decisive in what he wanted, never caring about what his actions made him look like if it was for better or worse.

You figured that you should be bold too.

You intertwine your fingers deeper into his grasp and pull his hand to your lips, leaving a small peck on the back of his hand.

His eyes widened immediately. “That’s quite forward, princess.”

“I needed to one-up you,” You answer nonchalantly, but you don’t miss the slight spark in his eyes. It was unexpected, and you were always going by the book.

Elise ignores your conversation and continues her questioning. “So I assume you both will be interested in PDA?”

“To a certain extent, I don't see why not.” You pull back slightly into your reserved nature, but he runs with it.

“Yes, we’re supposed to be a more open and progressive couple to represent a new generation of royals, so it would be nice to be a bit bolder,” He nods decisively along with his response.

You didn’t really think about the relationship like that until he mentioned it. While you were attuned to a certain sense of responsibility as the singular face of your country’s new generation of leadership, it was known that you fought back against regressive norms brought up in your daily work.

Why not lean into something new when the image of your respective countries so desperately needed a refresh?

“That’s good to know. I know you both have different styles, but I think there are ways we can meet in the middle here.” Elise notes.

That statement proves to be true for the rest of your session. Elise leads you both through hugging and slightly provocative gestures that make you want to crawl out of your skin, but you both fumble your way through it.

Soonyoung seems insistent on embarrassing you with more revealing gestures while yours are relatively contained. He’s being a bit too playful for your liking, but it helps you understand his personality a bit more.

You decide that you want a moment to speak with him before he flies back home later that evening, excusing Elise and the remaining staff to leave you both in the studio.

“When do we see each other again?” You ask.

“You’re a bit too eager, aren’t you darling?” He smirks at you, and you lose the slight bit of faith you had instilled in him before.

“Shut up, I’m just trying to remember this stupid schedule.” You grumble. You resort to pulling out your phone instead, quickly finding the most up-to-date iteration of the relationship timeline in your email inbox.

“I’ll be in Arinorin in a few weeks to meet your parents,” Your brain works through the schedule quickly, scanning the information fast enough to say it out loud.

“Oh shit.” He mutters under his breath.

Oh shit was right. You haven’t had a proper conversation with the king and queen since you were a teenager. It was typical family friend fare, asking how your studies were going, if your hobbies were still things you enjoyed and a faint interest in any other topics that you happened to bring up.

Since then, there were only brief interactions in passing that were fairly positive. They must’ve thought quite well of you if they agreed to have their youngest son marry you, but that was something you’d have to inquire about with them.

“And to go on a date with you,” You mumbled.

That’s what really rattled you. It wouldn’t be real until no one else was around to direct and stage your romance, it was up to the both of you to make it happen.

“Right, I’ll get to choose what we get up to.” You can tell that his brain is creating a vision that will be less than satisfactory, and you can’t fight the urge to attempt to gain control.

“We aren’t going on your yacht, are we? I think you’ve broken enough hearts there.” You tease him.

“Very funny, and no, we’re not going on the boat… anymore.” He admits with an eye roll.

“See! I knew you were gonna take me there!” You interject, letting out the laugh that had been sitting in your chest for a minute or so.

“I’m never anybody’s boyfriend, cut me some slack,” He says it as if it’d get him off the hook for being mentally checked out during this process.

That much was obvious from the lack of planning, but you’d have to give him some space to try and impress you.

“Yeah, that’s pretty clear. I know long-term planning isn’t your strength.” You bite back and he brushes it off easily.

“Get all your jokes out now, but I’m gonna impress you. Mark my words,” He points at you while heading towards the door.

“We’ll see about that, loverboy,” You check your phone absentmindedly while he sees himself out.

“Is that my nickname?” He pokes his head back into the door with an excited tone.

“Bye, Soonyoung,” You grit your teeth into a smile and watch him reluctantly leave the room.

You can only hope your future in-laws aren’t as insufferable as him.

—

A few weeks later, the trip to Arinorin has arrived and all of its possible consequences are driving you up a wall. The culmination of meeting with your future in-laws, the date with Soonyoung, and the idea of being perceived as his partner outside of your home country are all slightly nauseating.

At first, it was just fun and games, but now, as the plane lands, the tension settles beneath your skin. Soonyoung was supposed to be picking you up, but you didn’t have much faith in that happening.

You barely remembered to grab the ring he gifted you so you could wear it while you were in town, simply as a reminder that this was all happening.

You exit the plane with your luggage in tow, only for Soonyoung to be waiting on the tarmac. He’s accompanied by a large black SUV that is clearly not his personal car, but his stance is trying to convince you that it is.

“Hi, princess.” He calls out with a wave of his hand.

“When are you gonna actually call me by my name?” You approach him with squinted eyes, your vision steadily adjusting to the early afternoon sun.

“When this feels less awkward, so give or take a few years,” He jokes.

“Not funny,” You gesture to him to take your luggage, and he catches the hint once you look at him again. You don’t want to shoulder smaller tasks onto his staff, you wanted to see how he would handle these things instead.

“How was the flight?” He calls out to you again, you hear the trunk slam shut and he comes into view again to anticipate your answer.

“It was alright, I’m just tired.” You rub at your temples to punctuate the feeling.

“Hopefully your room will be good enough,” He sounds somewhat considerate while opening the door for you. It feels wrong.

You slide into the back row with him following behind you. He shuts the door and his driver promptly begins the drive to the palace.

“Are you nervous about the trip? My parents aren’t exactly as kind as yours,” Soonyoung chuckles.

You let out a deep sigh. You wouldn’t call them kind considering the circumstances, in fact, you’re barely on speaking terms with them outside of public obligations.

Was it petty? Yes.

Was it also justified? Yes.

You figured that icing them out for a while would help them come to their senses. If worst comes to worst, maybe it could help you gain further control over the wedding.

Nevertheless, you were still upset with them.

“They’re really not that great, and I’d say that I’m pretty good with parents,” You avoid his glance to look out the window instead, taking in the sights of the country.

You don’t have many memories of Arinorin. Many of them were informed by meetings that you couldn’t even remember anymore.

“You’re right. The nation’s sweetheart can charm anyone. Plus it’ll give me time to think about what we’re gonna do on the date,” He affirms with a nod of his head.

“God, don’t remind me. If I’m lucky, we’ll be meeting at a strip club.” You roll your eyes.

“You really have no faith in me!” He pouts. You don’t give into him though.

“It's hard enough just being in a car with you.”

—

Soonyoung doesn’t ever have to think about first dates.

In fact, he doesn’t think he’s been on a proper first date since he was a teenager. Even then, it was low stakes. He could just pick something random for him and another girl to do, and it would be completely inconsequential to his life.

Now, impressing his future wife with an incredible first date feels monumental. He barely knew anything about you besides that goody two shoes personality of yours. It seemed like everyone was suddenly obsessed with you and he was the last to know.

He decides that a midday picnic is inoffensive enough for the both of you to enjoy. If either of you were miserable with each other, there would at least be good food to distract from it. The sunny weather was already on his side, now he just had to charm you.

You waved slightly as you approached his picnic blanket, stopping before your feet could cover the edge of the blanket.

“Wow, this is a lot,” Your eyes landed on the assortment of food spread across the blanket. There was a spread of fruit, snacks, and sandwiches for the two of you to eat together. Soonyoung knew he didn’t completely fuck up by the way you nodded, but you weren’t exactly jumping to praise him in general.

“I don’t get a hello?” He attempts a greeting but it falls flat.

You roll your eyes. “Hi, Soonyoung,” You state halfheartedly, crossing your arms in protest.

“Hi. Does the food look alright?” He takes off his sunglasses and fixes his gaze on you.

“Yeah, I figured you’d be inept at setting up a date, so it’s surpassed my expectations already,” You give him a tight-lipped smile before sitting on the blanket. He attempts to ignore the way your dress hikes up slightly to expose your thigh. The sundress that you’re wearing seems to expose every detail of your body that he’s neglected to look at, but he snaps back into focus when he hears you clear your throat.

Once you both start eating, it’s clear how little you have in common with each other. Sure, he figured it’d be a little difficult to get to know you, but the lingering silence doesn’t exactly make him eager to strike up a conversation.

“How do you feel about all this?” You ask suddenly. It catches him so off guard that he chokes on the piece of fruit he was chewing.

He coughs, raising the attention of the nearby guards. You turn to them, giving a signal that he’s okay before turning around. “Damn, I didn’t think the question was that bad,” You laugh sadly.

“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect it.” He waves off any suspicion.

He takes a deep breath. “I mean, I’m not thrilled. I know the economic aspect of this is the most important thing, but my parents are practically dying to marry me off,” He reaches for a bottle of wine, grabbing a nearby glass before pouring himself something to drink.

“So I’m not the first?” You ask.

“Absolutely not,” He snickers. This relationship would mark the 5th time his parents have tried to set him up with a fellow royal. He has managed to sabotage all previous attempts on account of pissing his parents off.

The girls they set him up with were nice enough, but he had no chemistry with any of them. He felt like sparing them from a relationship full of misery by ruining it before it even started.

“So your parents figured you wouldn’t want to escape a marriage instead of just dating?” You attempt to clarify.

“Bingo,” He sips his wine before handing you the bottle.

“So, does that mean you’re gonna try to escape this?” You accept it and pour yourself a fuller glass, immediately taking a sip after asking the question.

“I think you’d be pretty fucked if I tried to do that. I’m not that much of an asshole,” He shakes his head and laughs it off. Since being hated by his parents was bad enough, Soonyoung didn’t want to become the center of an emerging geopolitical crisis.

It would fuck everyone over, especially you. He could at least admit to himself that you didn’t deserve that.

“That’s nice, I guess,” You smile halfheartedly at him.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you.” He speaks in an unusually flat tone before turning away to face the view of sprawling hills and seemingly endless mountaintops. The sight of the burgeoning nature surrounding the houses below him brought a sense of peace.

Before you asked, he hadn't given the entire arranged marriage process much thought. Sure, he knew that you’d be getting married relatively soon, but he had no idea how to present himself as a good partner. He didn’t exactly know how to move forward knowing that everyone expected him to fail.

“You really are a dickhead,” You mumble.

“You’re not exactly sweet as pie either. Everyone loves you, but you’re fucking miserable to be around.” He responds in a piercing tone.

“Well, if you get to be a cunt, then so should I. It’s not like I’m getting anything out of this,” You shoot back.

You were definitely worse off as an only child. Sure, he was the black sheep of the family, but he could get away with plenty of things as the youngest. His siblings were off impressing the world by ruling the country, getting PhDs, having a shit ton of kids, and generally being upstanding citizens.

However, it didn’t make sense for him to try that hard.

“Your country’s finances won’t go to shit, isn’t that enough?”

His question seems to bring out another layer of frustration for you. “No, I want a husband who gives two shits about me past my bra size, but apparently that’s wishful thinking,” You angrily bite into a strawberry and turn away from him.

“Look, we don’t have to do anything except pretend that we’re in love. So, let’s not do anything past that. Alright?” He proposes. Your face is unreadable, but the way you chew on the inside of your lip shows that he’d never get to know what’s eating away at you.

“Alright,” Your body language seems to retreat completely.

The mood of the date is different after that, and his request seems to render you both silent as you eat the rest of the food without interacting. The view of the countryside makes him wish that he didn’t have to deal with any of this, just live in a tiny house where no one had to remind him about his impending marriage.

—

The entire day leading up to the Youth Summit Ball left you feeling incredibly rattled.

You know the staff is perfectly capable of executing your vision for the ball as they've done year after year. It was one of your signature events as a royal, and its annual presence in Maritria brought much-needed attention to the country with the presence of young royals and its ever-popular red carpet.

Tonight, however, would be the first time Soonyoung is escorting you as a “longtime” boyfriend in public. You’ve been seen together in public, yes, but this is a public declaration that you are hypothetically in love with him. As a co-chair of the event, nothing could go wrong since many of your peers would be attending with their families.

Nothing could go wrong, thus you needed him to know the extent of your anxiety.

You heard a knock on the door, and you’re accepting them inside without a second thought.

“You wanted to see me?” He asks as he steps inside the dressing room.

You’re thrown by how handsome he looks. You argued with each other over text about what he should wear, he insisted that it didn’t matter. Yet, your color palettes were not to be betrayed. You internally thank yourself for persisting with a navy suit. It contrasted well with his platinum-blonde hair that seemed to attract as many eyes as possible while you were out in public together.

“Yes, I did. You need to behave tonight, I’m not risking anything because you want to get your dick wet,” You scoff.

“Trust me, I already got this little lecture from your mother. I’ll be fine.” He smirks at you, not doing much to quiet the anxiety that was starting to build in your stomach.

“Well, your girlfriend is telling you herself that I’m serious about this,” Your hands automatically move up to his shoulders, smoothing out the nonexistent creases on his jacket. It was still weird to call yourself his girlfriend, the word felt too stiff coming from your mouth.

“And I’m reluctantly listening,” He moves his hand to your bare shoulder, brushing something off with a few light sweeps. You opted to wear a black form fitting gown, the design was relatively simple but it was still eye-catching. You thought you noticed Soonyoung taking glances at you.

“Do you remember everything I told you about tonight?” You remind him.

“Why wouldn’t I remember, Y/N?” He gives you that “are you serious” kind of look and you’re starting to buckle under the pressure.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re nervous or something,” You turn away from him, peering into the mirror to check if there are any flaws with your makeup.

“I don’t get nervous about stuff like this. Are you nervous?” You see him approaching, but you put your focus immediately back on your face.

“What? No, stop, I’m fine,” You purse your lips to check your lipstick. He mimics you, pushing his lips out like a duck and it startles you.

“Those cheeks of yours are telling me otherwise,” He rubs a finger on your cheek and you slap it away almost immediately.

“Stop, Soonyoung, I’m serious. Let’s just get through the night.” You shoot him a warning look and he puts his hands up defensively.

“Okay, no funny business. I promise,” He smiles. It’s not enough to convince you, but your mind is too focused on creating a good outcome for the night that it’s fruitless trying to argue with him any further.

“Ready for a good time?” He offers his hand out to you, and you reluctantly accept it.

“It sounds bad when you say it.”

—

“You know, she said we should kiss just once to see what it’s like,” His voice was slightly slurred as if the alcohol was slowly taking possession of his words.

“You’re just tipsy,” You throw your purse across the living room and fumble to lock the door shut.

“No, you are, I saw you sneak two shots out of the kitchen,” He points with a shocked smile, “plus a few glasses of chardonnay. You’re not fooling me, princess.”

He was probably right, but that didn’t make it any better. “God forbid that I wanna drink at my own event. Why are you at my place right now?” You’re irritated at his presence almost constantly.

“You wanted me to do everything for you, remember? So you could just hop into bed with no worries,” He waves his arm into the air.

The event went well, accounting for your drunkenness and Soonyoung’s unpredictable nature.

“What are you waiting for then? Take my shoes off,” You flail your arms helplessly, your body is slowly slumping forward but Soonyoung catches you before you stumble.

“Okay, let's sit down, miss bossy. You’re ordering me around when I was a perfect boyfriend tonight,” He guides you to your couch, slowly easing you down onto the seat when you let out an audible sigh of relief.

“You were an average boyfriend who didn’t look stupid in front of paparazzi. Don’t feel too proud of yourself.” Your tolerance for his shenanigans was lower than usual now that you were drunk, and you didn’t feel bad about fighting back at him.

“All of this is extra credit,” He tries to reason himself out of the bare minimum.

“Taking care of me is not extra credit, it’s the standard. You’re supposed to be taking care of me for the rest of my life, not just right now. Idiot,” You roll your eyes and close them briefly before his voice forces you awake again.

“You’re so mean to me, your poor boyfriend is still learning what you like,” He finally takes off your heels and you let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Better?” He asks with a smile. You know that he wants to laugh at you so badly, but you’re too far gone to care.

“Much better,” You close your eyes for a moment before snapping again. “Take off my jewelry.”

He removes your earrings quite easily, but you still feel a bit flustered when he leans toward your ear to focus on undoing the clasps of your necklace.

He settles his face near your neck to fully remove your diamond necklace, he cradles it in his hand and you think you might go slightly insane. He places it on the coffee table gently and looks back at you with a smirk.

“What’s going on?” You pick up on his expression.

“Nothing, I’m gonna do your hair.” He turns your body so your back is facing him now. He’s sort of just feeling around for bobby pins, placing them down on the coffee table whenever he pulls another out. Once he takes out the decorative pins near the top of your head, your hair finally feels free.

“Soonyoung?” You ask suddenly.

“Hmm?” He’s organizing all the hairpins but takes a moment to look up at you.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Your voice is a bit timid, nervous about how he might react. You would’ve contained yourself in any other circumstance, but now you just needed to head that you were worth complimenting.

“Where’s all this coming from, you’re just fishing for compliments now,” He shakes his head with a smile on his face.

“No, I’m not. It’s just-,” Your thoughts trail off, but Soonyoung catches your attention again with a gentle hand on your thigh. You don’t jump to move it away.

“Everybody was looking at us, but some people looked at us like I wasn’t meant to be with you. Is that true? Am I not pretty enough to be with you?” You feel increasingly insecure the more you elaborate. You didn’t think you’d feel this upset about it, but it meant your work was failing. You weren’t a believable couple and it was obvious to you now.

“Y/N, don’t say that. You’re beautiful,” His voice is noticeably softer.

“Not beautiful enough to sleep with. You wouldn’t sleep with me,” You rub your eyes with your hands and Soonyoung removes them from your face, laughing at the traces of makeup on the sides of your fingers. It seems like he still caught what you said though when he stops laughing.

“And that’s not the point. You’re just saying shit now, all of the guys in there would be lucky to even kiss you,” He insists. He stands up suddenly and walks toward your room. You assume he gets up to find makeup wipes, but you sit with his statement in the meantime.

You contemplate if you’d even want to kiss any of the royals who came to the party. You knew your standards were high and wondered if that would chase them off before they even had a chance to kiss you. He comes back and immediately wipes across your face the moment he sits down. His approach is slightly rough, but you couldn’t exactly get mad at him. He was just doing what you asked of him.

He’s analyzing if he got all of the makeup off when you speak up.

“But you’re not lucky?” You remark quietly.

That makes him clear his throat. You can even spot a hint of blush across his cheeks. It appears that you’ve riled him up slightly.

“I am lucky,” He lowers his head to rub the back of his neck with his hand, “You give me a run for my money.”

“Show me how lucky you are.” You continue to tempt him to see how he’ll react.

“I thought you wanted me to behave tonight?” He’s almost willing to act, but he still waits for your approval.

“I do, but she said we should kiss for practice,” You swallow lightly in anticipation. He rests his forehead against yours and you can hear his breath hitch in his throat.

You’ve been good, you’ve been so good all of your life. You don’t think you’ve done anything worth batting an eye at for your entire adolescence and young adulthood, but it was exhausting.

It was exhausting to be good, the voice of reason, the example of a perfect daughter to your country.

You weren’t in love with him, absolutely not.

Yet, the curiosity about what his lips tasted like made you want to be rebellious.

“I didn’t think you heard me.” He chuckled softly.

“I did,” You nodded your head against his. Soonyoung didn’t ask for permission to be bad, he just did it. That’s what runs through your brain when your lips meet his. Neither of you move for a moment and you’re afraid that you messed up.

That is until you feel Soonyoung’s hand cradling the back of your neck. He’s tilting into the kiss and you know he’s comfortable by the way his tongue slips into your mouth.

He tastes like tequila mostly, but there’s a hint of sweetness that you suspect comes from the dessert table at the party.

It feels so much better than you expected, now you know why girls couldn’t get enough of him. Even if it is just practice, he still took it far more seriously than you expected.

You haven’t had many kisses that were worth remembering, but this was something spectacular.

You know he’s kissed people far more times than you have, but there’s still a hesitant energy there that you can’t describe.

Did you make him nervous?

He pulls away first and it surprises you. He takes a deep breath and looks at you with tired eyes.

“Just a practice kiss, right?” He whispers.

“Just practice.” You affirm, pulling your head back. You’re not sure why it felt so disappointing to not have another kiss. You were sobering up which made the realization even worse.

“I’ll leave now before you kick me out.” He stands up from the couch and you don’t follow him. He makes it to the door and turns around.

“Don’t stay up all night reading thinking you can fight a hangover, go to bed.” He points at you with a teasing finger.

“Don’t lecture me, Kwon Soonyoung.” You stand up and walk toward your bedroom, ignoring whatever expression is on his face. You don’t look back until you hear the front door shut.

He didn’t say goodbye and that was probably for the best. You didn’t need any other memory from this part of the night to linger in your brain.

You rush back to the living room to lock the door again and sulk back to your bedroom. You eye the novel on your bedside table, you left it there earlier in the day to pick up whether you ended up drunk from the party or not.

Damn, he was good.

—

There were now multiple days, even weeks, between your shared schedules with him, and the more time that went by after the kiss only made you want to see him again.

Of course, he was friendly to you in public, and you were both able to handle public events with ease, but

the timing left you with many questions, and one stuck out in particular.

Why was he nervous to kiss you?

Today, he requested a private schedule for the two of you before he left Maritria early next week. There was a sneaking suspicion that it was the proposal since there wouldn’t be another reason for you to be alone.

He never wants to be left alone with you, it’s all about putting on an act for others that makes it so thrilling for him.

That’s what you try to tell yourself, at least.

“You’re here,” He eyes you carefully as you approach the entrance of the private garden. He’s surrounded by endless blooms, it’s almost suffocating how romantic it’s supposed to feel.

“I’m here because you want me here,” You offer quietly.

“Right, well I don’t want to waste any time. I’m sure my princess has lots of work to do today.”

On any other day, he’d be right, but the underlying suspicion of his true intentions made you want to linger.

He grabs your hand before you have another second to contemplate your feelings.

“I know that I’m not the person you wanted this to be from, but that’s how things have turned out. We both can’t get what we want, but I want to make this a good memory for us regardless of the situation.”

He gets down on one knee before asking. “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

His hands held a small black velvet box and he quickly opened it to reveal a stunning oval shaped diamond ring. There are definitely more carats than you've ever seen on an engagement ring, and the gold band it sits upon feels equally regal.

It almost makes you sick from how ornate and gaudy it is, but it’s yours.

“You know this is the part where you say yes,” He clears his throat.

“Give me a second,” You mumble. You can’t see his glance, instead choosing to look at the ring. Everything else felt like a game before, but this was real.

He is proposing to you, offering a ring to you to signify a love that wasn’t actually real. That kind of sappy affectionate love you dreamed of would never come to fruition, possibly for the rest of your life.

It’s a realization that is entirely too bleak for the moment.

You’re meant to be happy, but if your parents were here they’d pick apart how long it took you to respond.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” You force a smile onto your face to appease him. It doesn’t seem like he notices the pained expression within it, only offering a content sigh.

“Great.” He rises to his feet to place the ring on the appropriate finger. It feels like it’s all over now, you can imagine the rest of your future laid ahead of you on a set path.

The thought of taking constant publicity trips as a couple, having future heirs to the throne, and the idea of bringing him into Maritria’s lineage makes you wonder if you did everything you could to save yourself.

There is no out, just you, him, and the impenetrable distance between you both.

You wonder how a couple might build a life with an unstable foundation.

“Should we kiss?” His question brings you back to your senses.

“What?”

“For the camera, we should kiss.” He points to a photographer making themselves known from a nearby bush.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod.

This is your duty, right?

You pull him close and kiss him, trying to ignite the small spark you felt when he was at your apartment.

Yet, the feeling doesn’t come and you pull away from him gently after a few moments.

“We just need some photos for social media and then you’re free to go.” The photographer reassures you with a kind tone.

You snap into professional mode in order to speed up the process. Your hand rests on his chest, angling it slightly to show off the ring. You force a smile, trying to indulge in the fantasy of it all. Once he gets a few shots of that pose, you turn back to look into Soonyoung’s eyes.

He was unfortunately quite handsome, it’s a shame that nothing else about him could make you happy.

“What are you thinking about?” His questioning pulls you out of your head once again, but you’re not sure what to tell him.

Being honest with him means making a sweet moment uncomfortable, and lying to him means letting your pain continue to simmer.

You go for the latter, to spare everyone a difficult moment. “Nothing. The ring is beautiful,” You shift the conversation with a quiet tone in order to deflect the topic off of you. He smiles widely, his face tells you that he didn’t expect you to like it one bit.

“I let my team take the reins with it since I don’t know you that well.” He responds so earnestly, and you’re not sure if he understands how hurtful that sounds.

You take it in stride though. “Well, it’s beautiful.”

He only nods and takes a moment to adjust his suit jacket.

You watch him brush over the fabric with his hands, wondering how in the world you ended up here. Even if things were different, fate would probably still bring you into Soonyoung’s orbit in another way.

Regardless, it’s enough to make you even more upset. Once the photographer is satisfied with the variety of shots, you’re about to leave when you feel Soonyoung’s hand touch your shoulder.

“Hey.” He turns your body to face him with his hand. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand in front of him without crying.

“We’re still on for this weekend, right?”

You can’t be bothered to remember what he means, but it’s best just to agree. It’s not like you had much of a choice.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.” You nod at him before leaving. The moment you turn your back, you can’t hold back the stray tears falling onto your cheeks. You can only hope that he can’t hear your sniffling.

—

Now that the proposal news was officially out, your life had an even bigger microscope on it than usual. You’re used to being judged on a public scale, however, there were millions of people who were obsessed with Soonyoung that now wanted to know every single piece of information about his new fiancée.

Your Instagram posts and tweets had an influx of new activity that you could barely keep up with, and the new attention was starting to work into every corner of your life, even the time you spent with Soonyoung.

“Can you tell your fans to stop making video edits of me?” You stuff your phone into your jacket pocket in slight annoyance. You were genuinely trying to enjoy the private dates you had with Soonyoung, even if they were heavily guarded by staff. It was only right that you treated these outings as the dates they were, opportunities to get to know him better in order to connect with him that would hopefully prevent any issues further down the line.

Today, the location of the date was your choice and the staff had elected to leave you alone in light of the proposal news. Thus, you decide to take Soonyoung to a small beach on the outskirts of Maritria’s capital city. You’ve spent many days throughout your teenage years in your favorite spot, a cove in a hidden part of the beach. You figured that it’d be smart to let him in on a few things that you enjoyed, namely one of your most treasured spots in the country.

“That means they like you, and since when are you afraid of attention?” His interest is now piqued as he places his head in his hand to face you.

“Since always, I’m not exactly a Kwon Soonyoung-level attention whore,” You scoff.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” He speaks in an exaggerated sad tone, accompanied by his pretending to cry. He turns his head to face you, sunglasses attempting to hide the goofiness peeking through.

“Still, I mean this is all a lot. I’m not exactly important enough to warrant 700,000 new followers.” You attempt to redirect the conversation.

As soon as the remark leaves your mouth, Soonyoung takes his sunglasses off. He looks at you with a confused glance, as if your self-deprecation was a personal attack on him.

“What are you talking about? You’re a princess and a genuinely nice one at that. That’s pretty hard to come by these days,” He compliments you. It pulls at your heartstrings very slightly, enough to absentmindedly check for a blush on your cheeks before snapping out of it.

“You wouldn’t know, you don’t see anything past the title before you sleep with these girls,” You attempt to defuse the response again, but he’s prepared.

“First of all, those days are behind me. I’m a proper engaged man now,” His thumb grazes your engagement ring and it sends a chill down your spine.

“And second, that statement is funny coming from someone who’s marrying me for financial stability,” He pokes your shoulder and you move to cover it.

“Correction, my country’s financial stability. You’ll have to get used to living here once we’re married,” You clarify.

“Who said we’re living in Maritria?” He argues instantly. You let out a sigh and try to understand the perspective he’s going to bring up.

“Soonyoung, wouldn’t it be smart to show how much the country’s condition would improve with you here?”

“Yes, but imagine being in Arinorin. The optics of giving you away to the country that saved yours seem pretty positive to me.” He suggests. While idealistic, the perspective is shortsighted. He didn’t necessarily have a shining future back in his home country considering his reputation and lack of communication with his parents.

“Even though you’ll never be king?” You didn’t mean for the question to sound so mean, but it’s true.

He was not the country’s future king, not unless there were dire circumstances that would force him into the position.

He scoffs. “Way to rub it in.” He looks into the distance, not acknowledging your glance anymore.

“I’m just saying. At least here, you’ll have the chance to have more of the public’s attention. There’s nothing to fight over, it’s just me,” You add sympathetically.

There’s a lingering silence that you don’t want to fill for the moment. You can tell he’s mulling over your words by the way he’s looking down at his hands, playing with his sunglasses idly.

“You know, you don’t have to stay there. Not to be that person, but if the idea of staying makes you feel worse, then what’s the point?” You soften your tone in an attempt to bring him back.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” He shakes his head resolutely. You feel your window of opportunity to try and comfort him closing rapidly.

“Ok, you’re right, but I’ve kept up with the news. I know a bit about how my future in-laws have treated you. You’ll be okay here,” You place a hand on his shoulder.

“I think they’ve wanted me to leave for a while, honestly. I’d go somewhere where they don’t have to think about me anymore.” He scratches the back of his neck before focusing on a small tidepool that sat directly below the both of you.

His statement is enough to now squeeze his shoulder, gently rubbing it to show your support.

“I’m sorry.” You offer quietly.

“It’s not your fault. I don’t think being a problem child fits me very well anymore.”

“You can reinvent yourself here if that sounds alright with you?” You offer and he laughs quietly.

He smirks. “I’ll think about it,” His slightly hopeful tone makes you feel at ease.

Any true affection toward him still feels too foreign, but verbal reassurance is a step you’re willing to take if it means your shared future is relatively peaceful.

—

The trips back and forth to each other’s countries were becoming a blur of wedding planning, being present at each other’s public engagements, and trying to get to know each other. It was becoming such a tedious process that any opportunity to rest was taken without hesitation.

The big plan for the current trip to Arinorin was to have a joint dinner with both of your immediate families.

You waited endlessly, but Soonyoung never showed up for dinner. It was embarrassing trying to subtly figure out where he was by going to the bathroom and frantically texting him. When that didn’t work, calls went unanswered until you were forced to give up and return to the table in defeat. He wasn’t answering and you were left to deal with two confused families on your own, attempting to answer questions that you had no answers to. Dinner eventually proceeded with an unyielding amount of attention on you, but thankfully, the rest of his family seemed to accept you.

Yet, it was ultimately embarrassing to attempt to cover his tracks and defend his actions throughout the night.

Thus, your post-dinner plans were to relax in your room and attempt to forget how wild the night had been. A knock on the door interrupted those plans almost immediately.

You open the door to see one of the guards that have been assigned to you since the arranged marriage proceedings had begun.

“Sorry to bother you, princess. I’ve just received word of a disturbance with the prince downstairs that needs your attention.” His tone was especially solemn, so you didn’t want to leave him waiting for long.

“Alright, I’ll be ready in a minute.” You nod at him and thank your lucky stars that you’ve already changed into more comfortable clothing.

With his assistance, you were soon traveling through the endless halls of the castle to find your fiancé. It wasn’t long before he came into view, sitting on a bench with his legs tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around the front with his hands clasped tight. He was clearly drunk, sighing to himself before looking up.

“Y/N! Hi!” He exclaims, waving at you wildly.

“Fucking hell,” You exhale under your breath. You’re extremely grateful that he wasn’t out wandering the streets, clearly under careful watch by his guards.

“Can you give us a moment?” You look around at the surrounding guards. They nod curtly and dismiss themselves, retreating to a nearby room where they could still intervene quickly if needed.

You turn your attention back to him once the door closes. “Where were you?”

“I was out with Seungkwannie and, um, Seokmin. It was so much fun,” He laughed brightly, eyes almost disappearing from his smile.

“We were supposed to have dinner with our families. Remember?” You hold onto your curt tone.

He shakes his head immediately. “They didn’t wanna see me, they don’t care about me.”

You were starting to lose your patience. While you understood his hesitation to face his family, it wasn’t an excuse to leave you to navigate so many different dynamics on your own. This was supposed to show your families all of the efforts that had been made thus far, and there were plenty of efforts that were beginning to show naturally.

He had become more affectionate in public, it was less uncomfortable to smile at him and speak with each other kindly. It wasn’t real, obviously not, but unsuspecting eyes wouldn’t have known any better.

You were almost visibly in love.

“How about how I feel, Soonyoung? I had to deal with everyone alone, deal with everything by myself. That was so hard for me, but you just ignored it and got drunk.” Your voice was tight, barely allowing yourself to feel anything besides anger.

“I’m sorry,” He sighs before running through his hair. He’s affected by it, as his posture starts to wilt like a dying plant.

“You should be. That hurt my feelings a lot,” You felt the intended venom of your words dissipate on your tongue until nothing was left.

What was the point in yelling when he wouldn’t remember any of it anyways?

Honestly, you were disappointed in him. You had earnestly tried to connect with him, and it finally felt like he was trying to do the same thing. Yet, he let you down. You didn’t ask for much of him and adjusted your expectations for him at every step of the way, but he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t be better for you.

“Was being selfish,” His pout seems to get deeper somehow.

“Yeah, you were,” You whisper. You finally take a seat next to him on the bench, taking a deep breath. The silence between the two of you almost felt labored, as if the air held all of the emotions you were both feeling at once.

You shouldn’t be babysitting your fiancé like this, that much was true. If he couldn’t even attend a family dinner, what did that mean for the marriage?

“You don’t have to worry about the wedding. I’ll take care of everything,” You mutter quietly.

“What?” He sits up in surprise.

“I can’t trust you, Soonyoung. You don’t care about this and you clearly don’t care about me, so why would I let you plan any part of this?”

“I can try, just let me try,” He pleads quietly. You can feel the desperation in his tone, but you can’t budge.

“I’ve let you try and this is what happens. I don’t know if this is how you picture our marriage, but if this is it then consider us strangers. I can’t do this, not like this.” You can’t look at him as you stand up.

Your body goes into autopilot as you knock on the door where the guards are stationed, letting them out so you can both separate for the night. You gently request for him to be taken home before starting the journey back to your room, wiping away tears that welled up in your eyes without a second thought.

You hear him calling your name, but what point is there in turning around? You didn’t have the energy for drunk pleas and broken promises anymore.

If you couldn’t stop everything and everyone from falling apart, you could at least try to protect yourself from the wreckage.

—

For the first time, Soonyoung hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

It never felt good to be ignored by anyone, but getting ignored by you? It had to be a new kind of pain.

Despite his unbothered facade, he didn’t mind your company at all. He quite enjoyed your little quirks, small things that other people probably wouldn’t notice.

In the chaos of your intertwined schedules, there were moments where he’d just look at you to take in your features for himself, and not anyone else.

He loved seeing how peaceful you looked while you slept during flights or the way your cheeks lifted when you smiled. Since he couldn’t have you to himself often, he could hold solace in the smaller moments.

Admittedly, he had been in love with you for a while now, and he could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized it.

He mentioned to you offhandedly that he’d lost a beloved stuffed tiger toy as a kid, but he’d accepted the loss and attempted to move on. He didn’t think you’d remember the anecdote, much less do anything about it.

Yet, you handed him a silver gift bag while on a flight with him.

When he unwrapped the tissue paper to the sight of the exact make of the tiger he had, his heart momentarily stilled in awe.

“I found the original manufacturer and they still make them. The certain model you had is a collector’s item now, so it took a little while to find but it wasn’t impossible.” You explained everything calmly, your hand propped your head up on the armrest of your seat. You lazily smiled at him as he admired it in his hands.

“This is very kind of you, thank you,” He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

His parents hadn’t thought of trying to replace it for him after all these years, and he surely didn’t expect it from you. The gesture is just so romantic, even if you just wanted to write it off as simply a nice thing to do.

He didn’t cry until he was alone after the day’s activities were finished, realizing just how important it was to him. You were so nice, much nicer than he deserved from his future wife given his standoffish behavior.

There was no reason why he couldn’t confess his true feelings to you at this point. The wedding was fast approaching, sooner than he’d like to admit.

Details about the ceremony were quickly ironed out between your shared staff before he could think twice about asking, and you held to your word that he wasn’t allowed to get involved in wedding planning.

He didn’t remember much from the night you found him drunk, but it was clear that wedding planning was off-limits and you were extremely wary of being alone with him. Thus, he had to make his apology meaningful, and he couldn’t wait until after the wedding. He was determined to mend the relationship before you walked down the aisle.

He started by sending you various bouquets, all carefully chosen by him.

That was a kind gesture, right?

He thought so until he saw you throwing one of the bouquets into a dumpster from afar.

All of his apologetic texts to you were swiftly ignored as well, forcing him to switch gears completely. It was clear that you were subtly hinting at an in-person apology, which was daunting but not impossible for him to do.

He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the night of the Youth Summit Ball, a major oversight on his part. Yet, he figured there was no better time than the present to start taking things more seriously.

He held the bouquet of white and red carnations tightly in his hand, fingers playing gently with the paper wrapping as he sat in his car.

He was optimistic that the rain would hold out until he was hopefully let into your apartment. Yet, he ignored the raindrops periodically hitting his raincoat as he walked up the stairs to your brownstone.

The moment he knocked on the door, it was as if the universe decided to fuck him over. The occasional raindrops turned into a full downpour, and he scrambled to figure out what to do with himself. There wasn’t any awning to hide under, so he attempted to conceal the flowers from the rain, unzipping his jacket enough to sit the damp bouquet on his chest before zipping it up again.

It felt like a lifetime before you opened the door, and the sight of you rendered him speechless.

This was the first time in so long that he was facing his fear of resolving the neverending conflicts in his life.

“Hi.” He smiles despite your unreadable expression.

“Hi,” You were confused, rightfully so. After passive-aggressively sending indirect apologies, he decided to skip everything else and just show up.

“Are you busy?”

“No, but I don’t think I have a choice,” You move to the side so that he can enter your apartment. He takes the cue and makes himself comfortable in the living room.

“These are for you.” He hands the flowers to you, and the hesitancy is clear on your face.

“You aren’t giving up on the flowers, are you?” You ask with a judgmental tone. He doesn’t feel completely deterred when you place them on the dining table instead of throwing them out.

“Well, these are your favorite.”

“This doesn’t bail you out, you know.” You give him a knowing look.

He sighs, steadying his breath before speaking. “I know, and you deserve an apology for everything.” When he notices that you're focusing intently on his words, he feels confident about continuing.

“I know that I’ve made you feel isolated, and I’m truly sorry for that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this, and I want to make this marriage work. You deserve to marry someone who’s willing to admit their mistakes and grow with you. I’m ready to be that person if you want me.” By the time he finishes, he knows that he was completely honest with you. He’s wanted to be upfront with you for so long, but it wouldn’t have been worth it if he didn’t express himself properly.

You let out a contemplative sigh. He could tell that you didn’t want to reject him, it’s as if your face was processing his statement just as swiftly as your brain.

“As much as I appreciate this, I don’t want to be in a loveless marriage.” You said.

He swallows lightly, but he’s still understanding of your perspective. He knew that he had to lay everything out for you before it was too late.

“Who said it was loveless?” He says.

“What?”

The revelation seems to catch you off guard, but it's not surprising to him. Soonyoung is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, and this kind of confession feels completely out of his emotional range.

“I love you, and I should've told you sooner. I regret not proving that you could trust me, and you have every right to not have any faith in me.” He walks toward you, internally pleading that the lack of distance will help you change your mind.

“I do have the right,” You mutter under your breath with a chuckle. He lifts your chin slightly with his finger, forcing your eyes to meet his again.

“I will prove to you every day for the rest of my life that I love you.” His eyes are completely sincere, showing that he’s willing to provide the romance that you’ve been grasping for. He can tell that you can’t let him in this easily, he has to earn you completely.

“Every day?” You question him.

“Every single day,” He reiterates. He means it too, his mind was already thinking of dozens of ways that he could start making it up to you.

“That’s pretty tempting, honestly.” You tilt your head in curiosity.

“Anything holding you back?”

“I don’t think so. You just can’t keep coming into my apartment soaking wet anymore,” You scrunch your nose at his appearance and gently tousle his hair, earning a giggle from him.

“That wasn’t planned. It was pretty romantic though, right?” He can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face as he asks.

“A little bit. I forgive you, by the way,” You admit.

He exhales and runs a hand through his hair with shaky confidence. He couldn’t be certain of your decision, so the relief he feels at your words is palpable.

“Does that mean I get to see all the spreadsheets about the wedding now?” He knew he was testing his luck by asking, especially because the process had been under lock and key even before restricting his access to wedding-related documents.

“Yeah, it’ll take some stress off my back. It’s giving me headaches just thinking about everything coming together,” You rub your forehead and close your eyes for a moment before looking back at him.

“You’ve been stressed like this and you haven’t told me?” He frowns.

“I was mad at you, so all my other feelings just kept building up. I’m sorry,” You shake your head, immediately covering your face with your hands. He pries them off just as quickly, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“It’s okay, love. I am more than willing to help you, I promise,” He nods eagerly with a grin.

“Okay. I like that name, you know,” You finally crack a smile and his own smile widens.

“Figured you would.” He’s leaned closer to your face, but there’s enough space to move away in case you reject him. “Can I kiss you?” He asks gently.

“Please,” You whisper.

It’s all he needs to complete the distance between your lips and the feeling of you is almost overwhelmingly beautiful. He’s so lucky at this moment, feeling your hands push his head deeper into the kiss. He was too cautious last time, but now he’ll never take another kiss of yours for granted, not when it feels this good.

He would do anything to make sure you felt loved and cared for, no matter how long it took to earn your full trust.

—

“I just need a moment alone, if that’s alright?” The question comes out a bit shakier than you imagined, but you can’t seem to quiet your nerves. Your wedding day has already taken you on an emotional rollercoaster despite not going down the aisle yet.

As you view yourself in the gown that you meticulously picked out along with the detailed hair and makeup that took hours to complete, nothing looks out of place.

Yet, your heart feels unanchored.

Your relationship with Soonyoung was getting better every day, but it seems like it was all going a little too well. Even though your relationship was transforming from a state of emergency into a promising romance, it was all catching up to you at the moment. Your mutual efforts to improve your relationship had been fruitful, giving you both the confidence to get married without feeling insecure.

You wouldn’t regret it, right? You needed to be certain that you wouldn’t.

“Of course, Princess.” Your head staff member agrees without question before exiting the room along with a few team members who were assisting you for the past few hours.

Your brain can only think of him. The tradition of spending the night before the wedding apart from each other felt more like torture than anything else, as you’ve come to appreciate his comforting presence next to you. In the last few weeks leading up to the wedding, he’s made such a genuine effort to intertwine your lives together that spending time apart felt futile.

A knock on the door breaks you out of your trance. Before you can ask who’s there, Soonyoung’s voice fills the silence.

“Is it a bad time?” His voice makes your heart flutter before you can even look at him.

“You can’t see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck,” You attempt to fight the smile on your face but you don’t allow yourself to look at him.

“Even if my bride has cold feet?” He presses on, his footsteps quietly approaching you.

You turn to reveal yourself to him and his face lights up.

“They’re not cold, they’re lukewarm,” You smile coyly at him. He grabs your hands and scans your body with wondrous eyes, his gaze seeming to land on every detail of the dress before meeting your eyes again.

“You look so,” His voice trails off. You’re sure that you can read his mind, he’s practically grinning from ear to ear. It makes you feel a bit shy, you can feel your cheeks heat up from his complimentary words.

“You’re really inflating my ego here,” You shake your head gently, but the feeling of his hand grazing your cheek pulls your gaze to him. Despite your best efforts, it’s still hard to fight the inner voice that tells you that he doesn’t mean it, that he’s only saying it because it’s something you want to hear.

Yet, his responses are just unflinchingly earnest that it makes you wonder why you ever felt that way in the first place.

“You just look so stunning,” His voice begins to shake before he clears his throat, “I just can’t believe that you’re mine.”

You were certain that you’d never seen that much sincerity in his eyes up until now, but it started to quiet the lingering fears that still sat in the pit of your stomach. He was absolutely smitten with you, to the point where his smile didn’t go away while you were talking to him.

“You can’t cry yet, you have to save it for the cameras.” You chuckle in an effort to push away his tears, but his eyes were still glossy.

“I can’t help it. You’ve worked really hard on all of this and it’s coming together so well,” He sighs with content. Honestly, you needed to hear that it was all worth it, especially from him. Although he’d been offering reassurance more often than not, the sentiment felt different knowing that you were minutes away from getting married.

“I wanna kiss you so badly, but I can’t fuck up my makeup.” You pout. He instinctively places his hands on your shoulders, moving them up and down to make you feel grounded with his touch.

“We can kiss, you know. There are no rules to any of this.” He attempts to get you out of your tradition-focused mindset with a low tone. You do want to indulge him though, considering that this was the first time you'd been alone with him all morning.

“Just go below the mouth.” You nod and he smirks, immediately placing his lips on your jaw to see how you’d react. It pulls a soft moan from your throat, and your reaction encourages him to go down your neck, leaving kisses wherever his lips can find skin. You started to let go of the responsibilities lingering over your head and focus on your fiance’s tongue leaving open-mouth kisses on your cleavage.

He’s practically doing everything but undressing you and his eagerness makes it harder to pull away, but you have to.

“Babe,” You whisper.

“Hmm?”

“Later,” You have to hold onto your resolve or else you’ll give in, and you can’t let your first time be in a dressing room.

“Later?” His eyes perk up like an excited puppy. The implication of the consummation of your marriage feels daring, it will serve as the reward after dealing with the decadent fanfare of the day.

“Yes, later. I promise.” You nod and he somehow looks even happier than before he walked in. He focuses on your lips but leaves a kiss on your cheek instead.

“I’ll see you out there, okay?” He presses one last kiss to your palm before heading towards the door.

“Okay,” You wave him off and watch him disappear with a smile on your face.

It’s clear that you don’t have anything to worry about.

—

“You’re sure that you don’t wanna come in with me?” Soonyoung calls from the pool.

“Yeah,” You nod with a hand placed above your eyes, acting as a sun visor since you couldn’t find a hat to put on.

You were two days into your honeymoon, tucked away at a small island resort that mostly isolated you from the outside world.

The wedding had thankfully gone far better than you could have imagined. He stopped you multiple times throughout the reception to tell you how beautiful it was, how happy he was to be in the moment with you, and how well you planned it all. It was a day that felt sun-soaked, enveloped in a love that was starting to soften and lose the sharp edges that had restrained it before.

Despite all of the kind attention from family and friends throughout the day, it was evened out with the constant presence of staff and castle officials that made it all a bit overwhelming.

Thankfully, the honeymoon began the next day and you’d have to force all responsibilities out of your head for the next week.

“You’re thinking about something, probably too many things,” He assumes correctly.

You scoff and turn away for a moment before facing him again. “You can’t be this good at analyzing me, we’ve only been married for less than a week.”

He laughs before swimming closer to the edge of the pool to meet you. “That’s my job, angel.”

“But you’re right, I am thinking too much about you moving in and all the press stuff we have to do,” You’re rubbing at your temples just thinking about how much effort it’s all going to take.

“Hey, look at me.” He calls out softly. You reluctantly place your hands at your sides, trying to take in his words.

“You’ll have plenty of time to worry about this, but this is the only time you’ll be on your honeymoon. Hopefully,” He shows his teeth and it succeeds in making you laugh. He smiles back at you before continuing.

“So maybe we can swim together if you’d like?” He tries again, knowing you’ll say yes. You take one last sigh and nod.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” You take your coverup off to reveal a solid black bikini he hadn’t seen yet. You discard the coverup on a nearby chair before turning to face him.

He eyes you for a moment before you clear your throat. “Slow down, loverboy, we’re supposed to be swimming!”

“Just admiring how beautiful my wife is, that’s all,” He bites back a smile but ultimately lets it show. You walk down the pool stairs until you’re swimming next to him. He only stares at you for a second before pulling you in for a kiss.

You’re caught off guard, letting out a small squeak when his tongue slides into your mouth but you give in to the feeling soon enough. You let your fingers card through the back of his hair, pushing yourself further into the kiss. You feel his hands wander across your ass and you let out a moan.

“Just wanted me in here so you could fuck me?” You whisper, finally pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath.

“You caught me,” He whispers back and proceeds to kiss down your neck, not hesitating to leave marks that force moans out of your throat.

“For fuck’s sake,” You sigh. You didn’t need to have control right now, you didn’t want it when he was making you feel this good just by kissing you. You thank your lucky stars that the vacation house is somewhat isolated because you can’t pretend to hold back the noises you’re making.

He picks up on this and presses his erection against your thigh, causing you to hold your breath. “Where do you want me, sweetheart?” He asks quietly. Your train of thought can’t even start because he’s staring right at you, brushing his thumb against your lip.

“Chairs,” You mutter. He bites his lip and turns to look at the unoccupied beach chairs lined up near the sliding glass door that leads back into the house.

“Okay,” He nods. He leads you back to the pool stairs before taking your hand and helping you out of the water. You both don’t think about drying off before he sits you down onto the chair, pulling off your bikini bottom without a second thought. You watch him with spread legs, taking in the sight of his glistening chest and abs. He seemed just as eager as you, taking off his swim trunks in the blink of an eye. The sight of his cock makes your head spin, so you force yourself to make eye contact with him.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asks earnestly. He must not know how hot he is because you’re rendered speechless. His freshly dyed black hair is slightly spiky, and it doesn’t help when he runs his hand through it. It all just goes to your clit, and you’re certain that the pressure will make you explode.

“Yeah, I’m good,” You force your mouth into a smile to replace the incredulous look on your face. He nods and settles into the space between your legs, quickly spreading hands across your thighs.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” His eyes are practically dripping with lust, but you want to let him know that the feeling is mutual.

“Yeah, maybe for the 100th time today, but you look even prettier,” Your compliment comes out a bit shy, but it still makes his eyes light up.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” He lets his thumb graze your clit and you whimper. He lingers there for a few more moments before dragging two fingers down your entrance. He ponders for a moment before pushing inside, and the new sensation makes you cry out. The angled position of the chair makes his movements feel even more powerful, and his fingers gliding against your tight walls already have you in shambles.

“It’s not possible because you’re the prettiest person in the world, and I get all your cute noises to myself, right?” His question makes the coil in your stomach harder to ignore.

“Yeah,” You moan. He leans in for a kiss, capturing your lips easily while thrusting his fingers even deeper. How does he know your body like this? Sure, you’ve made out a few times but he's never touched you like this before.

Maybe it’s the anticipation that’s causing him to show out like this, he’s trying to impress you because of how long you’ve had to wait for this. You let your arms drape behind his neck for a moment before clutching onto his back.

You hear him moan from the scratches you leave on the expanse of his back, you savor the noises as they start to blend in with your moans.

“Gonna cum,” You breathe into his ear. He can tell how tense you are around him, and your eyes are becoming frantic from the impending pleasure.

“Just relax baby, take a deep breath, and let go for me. I know you can do it,” His encouragement lets you cum immediately, arching your back off the chair with a soft grunt escaping your lips. Your orgasm washes over you all at once and his fingers only slow down a bit, allowing you to feel every single bit of pleasure that he could pull out of you.

You take a few deep breaths and focus on his eyes once again. You start to register his face again as he strokes your cheek. “Are you ok? Are you up for more?” He asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, I just didn’t think you’d get me like this so early, that’s all.” You cover your eyes with your hands for a moment before looking at him again. He has you so shy that you can barely look at him. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you haven’t cum like that in a very long time, but if he’s making you feel like this so early on into the marriage, you don’t think you’ll ever be disappointed.

“Well, that’s good. I just wanna take care of you,” He reassures you sweetly. His eyes are so full of love that it makes your heart pound, swallowing in anticipation.

He meant it when he said he’d take care of you, he had barely let you do anything for yourself since you arrived at the vacation house. It was so adorable that you didn’t have the heart to stop him. It was nice to let him live up to his promise of showing his love for you instead of constantly feeling distrustful of his actions.

Of course, there would eventually be moments where you’d disagree or argue with each other, but it wouldn’t be out of spite like before. You’re lost in thought until he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Where’d you go, pretty?” He whispers, his face now a few inches away from yours. It somehow makes you even more flustered than before.

“Just thinking about how much I love you,” You admit with a smile. His eyes widen at the confession and you burst into a fit of giggles.

“You love me?” He asks in surprise.

“I love you.” You state it confidently. You mean it too, and it feels so easy to express it to him. You knew you loved him since the wedding, he cried at the sight of you walking down the aisle and it helped you realize his sincerity. He seems to let the words settle into the air before giving you a response.

“I love you too. It feels good to say that,” He laughs at his own confession. With a mutual confession out in the open, the air somehow feels lighter.

“Can I show you how much I love you by fucking you properly?” He asks. You can only laugh and nod your head at how sweet it is.

“Not out here though. I need you in bed right now!” He exclaims, sweeping you up into a bridal style hold. You let out a scream before bursting into laughter, you can only let yourself get carried back into the house without protest.

----

“Fuck, right there, please,” You whimper, eyes screwed shut. The feeling of his cock stuffed inside you was indescribably good, it was nearly enough to make you cry. Once he got you on the bed, he wasted no time filling you up and easily pulled moans out of your throat.

He pressed your legs up to your chest, making sure that he was completely inside of you. You quickly learned that your husband had incredible stamina, and you were definitely gonna cum again sooner rather than later.

“You’re so good for me, my love. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of having you like this,” He whispers in your ear. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin brought something primal out of you, you just want to suck him inside of your walls even deeper. You were barely holding on, but he kept pushing you even closer to the edge.

He leaned down to leave marks in the crook of your neck, leaving a hand free to fondle your breast. It was as if he combined every possible move just to drive you insane and it was working.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” His voice is laced with something even deeper than lust, it almost felt demonic the way he asked you.

“Yes, please let me cum, please,” The words spilled out of your mouth, your voice was shaking along with your body. He was practically rocking you back and forth with the impact of his cock, hitting that particular spot deeper every time.

“Go on, then. Cum for daddy,” He grants you permission. The nickname makes you flood his cock, screaming again as your orgasm takes over you. He pulls out in time for you to squirt on his cock, leaving you even more surprised than before.

“Holy shit,” You whimper. He looks so pleased with himself, but also shocked that he was able to push you that far.

He lets you both recover for a few minutes, but you know he hasn’t cum yet. “I’m kinda close, baby, is it alright if I-?” He asks, but you don’t let him finish.

“Of course. I already miss your cock, to be honest,” You let yourself smile and his eyes are already blown wide by your response.

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“You made me like this,” You hit his arm playfully. He slides his cock into you again slowly and he watches your mouth fall open slightly at the sensation.

“I did,” He smirks at you, relishing the sight of how fucked out you look just from him staying still.

He picks up the pace, trying to focus on getting himself there. It didn’t seem like it’d take much just from how intensely he looked at you.

“Gonna let me cum inside you, baby? Should I get you pregnant like this?” His questions felt sinful in your ears, but you were too gone to care. You felt pressure building just from that, and the thought of him breeding you felt exciting.

“Yes, please, I want it,” You whine. He felt so deep that you could feel it from your head to your toes. Every single part of you felt overwhelmed by his cock and his relentless pace.

“Good girl, daddy wants to fuck you like this all the time,” He moves to kiss you sloppily, but it still feels heavenly to have him in your mouth. It wasn’t much longer before you felt his body tense beneath you.

“Are you close?” You ask breathily.

“Yeah,” He grunts. He grabs your hips and fucks into you even harder than you remember, the pain radiating from your thighs forces a tear out of your eye but you know it’s helping. He doesn’t warn you before he cums, and the sudden warmth inside of you makes you moan louder than you expect. He finally falls beside you and lets you both recover for a few minutes in silence. You could easily fall asleep like this, both of you laying haphazardly under the covers while his breathing steadies your own.

“Y/N?” He calls your name and it startles you. You struggle to keep your eyes open at the sound of his voice.

“Oh no, I scared you,” His voice is much quieter than before, lulling you back into a state of calmness.

“No, I’m okay, I promise,” You turn to face him, rubbing your eyes gently.

“Ok good. We’ve gotta clean up now, alright?” He softens the blow of the question by kissing your forehead. It still feels foreign to let him take care of you, but when you see how gentle he is, you don’t feel the urge to take control.

It’s enough to watch him go through your suitcase, observing how his eyebrows furrow while trying to decide what shirt you might want to wear.

You decided that he didn’t have to prove anything else to you, ultimately, you could see how pure his heart was, and it would be doing both of you a disservice to let assumptions of character control the course of your relationship.

You’re attentive enough to follow his cues while he’s dressing you or helping you up to the bathroom, but your mind is consumed by him.

“Doing okay, love?” His question pulls your head toward him. You adjust your posture in bed as he approaches you, climbing into the bed beside you.

“Better now that you’re back,” You hum lowly, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You take a deep breath, taking in the feeling of his skin against yours.

His body vibrates as he chuckles. “I’m glad you’re alright. I was thinking about something while we were in the bathroom,” He leans into your touch slightly, enough to make your eyes flutter shut.

“What’s up?” You accept his inquiry.

“I think we should take the kids here one day when they’re old enough,” He explains it as if it’s fate, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of him being certain that your shared future is meant to expand in so many different ways. You can’t picture yourself being pregnant for a long while, but the idea of building a family with him feels right to think about.

“We’ve fucked once and you’re thinking about our kids,” You tease him in a lighthearted tone, but you hear his nervous laughter.

“It’s just a thought,” He waves his hand gently.

“It’s a very nice thought, you’re really sweet,” You finally raise your head to look at him. You let your hand caress his cheek before kissing him gently. He accepts you immediately, and you let yourself linger on his lips for a few moments before pulling away to look at him.

He searches your eyes, focused on figuring out what you’re meant to tell him. You can’t think of anything profound to tell him, any extravagant sentimentalities you might’ve conjured up don’t make their way out onto your lips.

“I love you,” You whisper. Your feelings are buried too deep to let them all out now, but it’s enough to tell him this. You feel the pressure in your chest lessen the moment he smiles back at you.

“I love you so much,” He mumbles the words against your lips before kissing you, love seemed to radiate from his lips the way he was holding you against him. The day unfolded into the evening, time passing languidly as you were enamored with each other.

As you fell asleep with him holding onto your waist, you realized that sweetness had made its way into your life before your very eyes. The limitless potential between the two of you no longer strikes fear into your heart, but instead sustains you in new ways.

There would be time to flesh out the dynamics of your relationship, determining how you’d show up for each other in loud and unspoken ways, but the present feeling of safety that sat in your chest was enough.

Neither of you was perfect, but the act of showing up and being willing to grow with each other was enough.

You are both trying, and that is more than enough.

#svthub #hoshi smut #hoshi fic #soonyoung smut #soonyoung x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #svt angst #hoshi angst #AHHHH y’all have no idea how long I’ve been working on this #but I’m finally free thank god

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starsstuddedsky · 9 months

Text

What? Like It’s Hard?

gn reader x soonyoung

summary: With the help of a little bit of bleach, Soonyoung is certified legally blonde–complete to last minute-dedication to scoring as high as Elle Woods on the LSAT. While he has no interest in law school, he’s notorious for never turning down a dare. So how does a frat bro in serious danger of failing his senior year get a 179? He asks the smartest person he knows.

Or, studying for a law test has never seen this much chemistry.

genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers, opposites attract

warnings: swearing, drinking, food, arguing, a couple sex jokes, one spicy scene at the end but no actual smut, refusal to acknowledge feelings, what's the word for beyond oblivious????

full wc: 24.3k

playlist! - i'm not very good at this but i tried to add songs alternating between yn and soonyoung :)

a/n: hello!! first of all, sorry this so long! it's been a very very busy summer. thank you to everyone who has continued to show interest in the story, it's really kept me going. i honestly have no idea what this is anymore but i hope it does not disappoint :) as always i appreciate feedback of any form <3 thank you again for reading and have a lovely day! finally, happy scoups day :)

a/n2: a special shout out to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta and for helping me fact check... why do i keep writing about lawyers when i know absolutely nothing about the field.......

“Nope.” You grab your backpack, shoving your laptop inside, but he gets to your water bottle before you can reach it.

“Come on.” Soonyoung pouts his lips.

“I won’t do it,” you say.

Soonyoung hugs your water bottle hostage against his chest, dark blue hiding in the crook of his elbow, bright against the pale pink sweater he wears. It’s an unusual choice for him, normally clad in baggy jeans and loose t-shirts. Still, the color highlights his new hair, blonde bordering on white. Hardly the first time he’s done something insane for a bet.

“Please! I’m desperate!” He cries again, stepping closer, though he keeps a firm grip on your water bottle. You never should have told him how emotionally attached you are to it; you should have known it would be held against you.

“No,” you say. You sling your backpack on, just in case he gets any other ideas. The other students shoot dirty looks at you, actually in the library to study (like you were, until Soonyoung arrived). So you grab him by the arm, rolling your eyes at how he jerks the water bottle out of reach.

“Walk and talk, we’re not doing this here,” you say, folding your arms over your chest.

“Come on, how hard can it be?” Soonyoung asks. “It’s just a test.”

“Just a test?” You snort. “Soonyoung, you are aware that most people don’t apply to law school on a dare?”

“I don’t have to get into law school!” He says, “just get a 179 on the LSAT.”

As if that makes it any better. You eye Soonyoung and his tight grip on the plastic. Maybe it’s a lost cause and you should just swing by the bookstore to get a new one instead. But that water bottle has butterfly stickers that have survived since freshman year and a dent from the time Jun tried to use it as a weapon in a fight against Jihoon (that was declared a draw when the bottle busted open and doused both of them equally); it holds memories better than water and you’ll be damned if you let Soonyoung hold it hostage.

“That’s actually harder,” you mumble. From the corner of your eye, you can see him tucking the blue bottle under his right arm, farthest from you. This won’t be easy, especially since you saw the poorly disguised thirst trap of him and one of his frat bros at the gym: those arms are not to be underestimated.

“I’ll pay you!”

“With what money?”

Soonyoung pauses. You’ve reached the exit by now, sunlight warming you through the glass doors. He turns to the sunlight, and you know he’s pretending to be a main character from an artsy film (not that he’s ever seen on). He takes a deep breath, as if he already regrets what he has to say next.

“Okay, I’ll offer you the only services I have.” He turns to face you, eyes on the floor.

“Oh my god, Soonyoung!” You shove his shoulder. “You are not selling your body for a test!”

“But it’s all I know!” He says. He pokes your arms. “You could have so much muscle if you lifted just twice a week.”

“Oh.” You blink at him. “You meant working out?”

“What did you think I meant?”

You feel heat rush into your cheeks. You push the door open, praying Soonyoung doesn’t notice. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, not daring to check if he’s following. “I don’t have time to workout.”

“Then what do you want?” Soonyoung asks. He stays just out of reach, adjusting his grip so that the water bottle hangs from his hand. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Why do you need me?”

“Because you’re the smartest person I know,” he says without hesitation. In the three years of your friendship, you’ve learned that the only time Soonyoung isn’t serious is when he flirts.

“You are,” he insists. “Plus you’ve already taken it, so you’re my best chance. My only chance, it’s not like I have a good track record with tests.” He gives you a lopsided smile as he tries to pretend like he’s joking. But Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You see the sparkle in his eyes dim, and you remember freshman Soonyoung–when he failed the midterm and holed up in his room in the frat house for two full days, not even venturing out to drink. It’s that damn sparkle that gets to you. He isn’t paying attention anymore, water bottle hanging loosely from his hand, but you can’t bring yourself to snatch it.

“You can pass it,” you say with a sigh. “It’s about studying correctly.”

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung says. “I’ve never really studied.”

“Well, that’s what I’ll teach you.”

Soonyoung freezes, grabbing your arm. “Seriously?” When you turn to face him, his smile is so bright it warms you from the inside out, hotter than the actual sun on your skin. He throws his arms around you, wrapping you in a hug so tight he lifts you off the ground. Your heart does this strange thing where it hops into your throat. Your arms come up as a reflex but his embrace is too tight for you to even hug him back.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He shouts. He doesn’t let go, even when he sets you back down. He loosens his arms just enough to look at you, the full force of his smile directed at you. “I swear you’re welcome at the frat house any time, I’ll buy you anything you want when I have money, I’ll drive you wherever you want if I can get Seungcheol’s car, I’ll do whatever, just thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You know you should answer, or say something, but thinking is too much when he’s so close you can smell the strangely sweet combination of laundry detergent, cologne, and sweat. You push out of his arms, snagging your water bottle on the way out.

“It’s whatever,” you mumble. Though his arms aren’t around you anymore, you feel strangely hot, like your blood is boiling, and your heart still pounds.

“It is not whatever,” Soonyoung declares. “I swear, whatever you want, I’ll do it.” He holds a hand over his heart and if it was anyone else you’d think they were joking but it’s Soonyoung: he’s deadly serious.

You can’t handle his gaze anymore, turning to study your beat up sneakers. “Really? You’ll get my first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice from Jun?”

“I’ll get that book back.” He glances at you. “It is a book, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Though there’s been some good adaptations.”

“That’s the one with the zombies?”

“Zombies?” You frown. “Oh my god, do you mean Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?”

“That’s not the original book?”

“No,” you say, laughing. “The original is Jane Austen, in the 1800s.”

“Oh,” Soonyoung says.

“I’ve actually never seen that one,” you say. “It’s the only adaptation I haven’t seen.”

“How many movies are there?”

“Well, there’s the 1940 adaptation, the BBC series that’s widely regarded as the most faithful adaptation, the 2005 Kiera Knightley movie that’s iconic, plus the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, which is a vlog-style Youtube adaptation. Then of course there’s Jane Austen’s other works, like Persuasion, which, the new one, for the record, was a terrible adaptation.” You stop when you realize you’re dangerously close to going on what Jihoon calls ‘an Austen tirade.’

“I liked the movie,” he says after a pause. “I don’t know if it was that good, or close to the books. But it was fun.”

“I’ll have to watch it, then,” you say. “I know it’s the obvious choice, but Pride and Prejudice really is my favorite Jane Austen novel. Good luck getting it back from Jun though. He’s studying abroad this semester.”

“He’s the friend from your history class?”

“No, that’s Jihoon, my roommate,” you say. “Jun was in my language class.”

“I thought you hated everyone in that class.”

“Oh, I did,” you say. “But Jun is friends with Jihoon, so he sort of just became my friend too.”

Soonyoung hums, saying nothing else. You don’t recognize the song, though you tend to mostly listen to classical music when you study or whatever Jihoon blasts from his room, so it’s not that surprising. The melody is nice, though. Well, Soonyoung’s voice is.

“I really am grateful,” Soonyoung says. “I know I was begging, because I don’t think I can do this without you–well, I don’t know if I can do it with you, but you’re my only hope and–I’m rambling again.” He flashes a smile. “The point is, thank you.”

You shrug, feeling shy under his gaze. “It’ll help me study anyways,” you say. “You learn a lot when you teach.”

“I thought you already took it?”

“I only got a 150,” you say, sighing. “I need at least a 165.”

Soonyoung nods, forehead creasing like it always does when he’s lost in thought. “Thank you anyway.”

“Well, you swore to do whatever I tell you,” you say, desperate to change the subject. “Don’t think I won’t abuse that.”

“Oh, YN,” he says, “I’m counting on it.” He even winks.

You cough, choking at the outright flirting. Soonyoung hasn’t tried a line on you in so long you thought he’d used them all. He isn’t serious–it was engraved in his DNA the second he became a fully fledged member of Sigma Beta Tau but it’s not like many people flirt with you, so it’s hard to stop your heart from jumping.

You check your phone, unable to look him in the eyes. It’s 2:18 now, prime naptime if you can get back to your apartment before Jihoon gets back. But if it’s past two, unless he lied to you at the start of the semester, that means Soonyoung should be in his data ethics class. “Hey, don’t you have class right now?”

Soonyoung glances at the time on his phone. “Shit.” He takes off, sprinting across the grass, dodging three picnics and narrowly avoiding getting rocked in the back of the head by a frisbee. He pauses at the edge, turning back around to wave wildly at you.

“Thank you!” He shouts. The picnickers glance between you and him and you can feel the blush returning. Soonyoung doesn’t notice all the eyes on him, waving like a goofball one final time before sprinting off again. Like a whirlwind, he’s gone again, leaving you to stroll across campus and wonder what you just signed up for.

Soonyoung’s brow furrows into a frown, lips pulling together in a pout. He rests his chin on his hands, looking up at you from the table like a puppy that knows he’s in trouble. “That bad?”

“Your analytical reasoning was good!” You say, not wanting to destroy him just yet. “The logical analysis wasn’t that bad either, you just need practice.”

“Wasn’t there a third section?”

“The score for reading comprehension was pretty bad.” Horrendous, actually, but you can’t tell him that, not when he’s deflating faster than a balloon at a knife throwing contest. He sits back, head knocking lightly against the back of the stiff library chairs.

“We can work with this! It’s really not that bad,” you say. You reach out instinctively, wrapping your hands over his hands. Your thumb rests against the soft smooth skin of the back of his hand, the rest of your fingers brushing lightly against his calloused fingers. You jerk back when you realize what you’re doing, patting his hands once and grabbing the workbook in front of him as if it’s what you meant to do all along. You study the upside down words, not daring to look at the disgust that’s probably painted on Soonyoung’s face.

“You can start with practicing the logic problems,” you say, flipping through the work book. “I’ll figure out a strategy for the reading portion.”

Soonyoung heaves a sigh, sitting up and hunching over the workbook. You flip open one of your old workbooks and try to pretend like you’re not trying to melt away from embarrassment.

“This isn’t very much teaching,” Soonyoung says without looking up. “Lots of problem solving.”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing either,” you say. “I just watched a lot of youtube videos when I was studying last year. I should have known better than to take it over the summer, though.”

Soonyoung glances up. “How come?”

You chew on your lip. You’ve known Soonyoung for a while now, but you’ve never talked to him like this, mentioning any real things other than complaining about roommates. Soonyoung would listen, probably say the ‘right’ things, but it’s a study session, so you just say, “Just not good timing.”

He nods, returning to his humming. You turn to your own workbook, trying to figure out how to get Soonyoung to actually read the passages for the reading comprehension. Twenty minutes pass in an instant and Soonyoung drops his pencil, sliding his journal with the answers back in front of you. You flip to the answer key, scanning between the two.

“When are you taking it again?” Soonyoung asks while he waits.

“Just before Halloween,” you say. Exactly 38 days from now, according to the IMPENDING DOOM countdown clock on your phone.

“That soon?”

You shrug. “I wanted to give myself time to take it again in case I bomb it and it had to be before midterms, so, yeah.”

“Is it really that bad to take all your tests at once?” Soonyoung asks.

“I mean, finals week pretty much kills me every semester. I actually thought I was cutting it close with only two weeks between it and midterms.”

“Is November cutting it too close?”

“Depends on when in November you plan on taking it,” you say, “though you probably won’t be able to take it again if you don’t like your score.”

“Not a problem for me,” Soonyoung says. He doesn’t waver against your raised eyebrow. “I’m getting that 179, first try.”

“You’re that confident?”

“In you.” He winks. “Also the bet is off if I don’t get it on the first try.”

You nod. “Yeah, that makes more sense.” You glance at your calendar. “

“November 18th.”

“That’s not too bad, you dodged between midterms and finals, there should be plenty of cram time.”

Soonyoung shrugs. “I just scheduled it so that I would get the results before the Christmas party.”

“I didn’t think you would be the religious type.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he says. “The frat has this annual post-finals party before people go back home for holiday break, usually on the last day of finals. There’s no way I’m letting Seungkwan get away with my hard earned Playstation, and there’s no way he’d miss the party.”

“You can’t just buy your own game?”

“It’s a console actually,” he says, “and that’s not the point.” You prepare for some lecture about honor or frat code or something overly dramatic and inspired by any of the countless war propaganda movies he loves, but he closes his mouth.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” you say. You turn back his sheet, half the answers marked with a dark blue X because red feels too cruel. “You’re clearly committed.”

He sighs at the answers, flipping back to the first question and frowning. You think the conversation is over, but without looking up from glaring at the right answers, he says, “You should come.”

“To?”

“The Christmas party.”

You stare at the top of his head but he doesn’t seem to notice. You wonder how he manages to keep his hair so blonde without ruining his scalp but you don’t see any dandruff. “Me?” You finally say.

“You said you’d come, like, freshman year,” he says. “You never did.”

You did promise, back when you saw him for class every day. But frat parties weren’t your scene back then. They aren’t your scene now. Nothing about blasting music and binge drinking appeals to you, and yet Soonyoung peeking at you from his notebook makes you feel guilty anyways. He looks at you like he really doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go.

And that’s the worst part: for Soonyoung, you would go. When he looks at you with the damn Soonyoung Sparkle, you’d do anything.

“I’ll… think about it,” you finally say.

He looks at you for a moment longer, then nods, like he didn’t really expect you to say yes. You try not to feel like you’re letting him down.

“Can you explain this one to me,” he asks, turning the book so you can see it from across the table.

You skim the question, which turns out to be a series of questions about stained glass windows. You take a moment to glance between Soonyoung’s answers and the correct ones.

“Walk me through your process,” you say.

“Okay, I start with…”

“Soonyoung, are you even listening?”

He blinks at you, lifting his head from his arms. “Something about strategies? For reading?”

You snap the book shut, shaking your head. You open your mouth, speech on responsibility and studying on the tip of your tongue but one look into Soonyoung’s Sparkle Eyes (patent pending) and all the words are gone. You really need to figure out how to get around that super power.

“Come on, it’s so nice out,” he says. “We should be outside.” He grabs your hand. “This is not studying weather, this is dating weather.”

“Soonyoung your test is in two months, you seriously want to skip?” You don’t dignify the second part of his complaint with a response. The idea of Soonyoung on a date makes your stomach flip.

He sighs. “No, but it’s October, we won’t get many more nice days, so can we at least go outside?”

You hesitate a heartbeat too long and Soonyoung jumps up. He closes the workbook, knocking loose papers off the table and sending highlighters of every color flying in every direction. The chaos earns a couple side eyes from the people around you and a full on glare from the person directly next to him, but Soonyoung, as Soonyoung as ever, doesn’t seem to notice. He picks up the papers and highlighters, shoving them into his backpack without a folder and slinging it over his shoulder. You can only follow him, grabbing the drinks before he tries to carry them along his laptop. When it comes to Soonyoung, mixing liquids and technology is more dangerous than mixing alcohols. You haven’t forgotten The Coffee Incident, flooding his backpack at 8 in the morning.

He drags you out of the library, though you don’t put up much of a fight. Soonyoung makes you want to relax, just a little, and when he smiles back at you as soon as he steps out of the sunlight, you find you don’t regret a thing.

Soonyoung pulls his emergency blanket out of his blanket, passing it to you. He’s more prepared for naps than any class he’s ever taken but the thin fabric is soft so who are you to judge? He heads straight for the quad, which is already filled with people, some groups of friends, too many obvious couples with heads in each other's laps or arms wrapped around each other. Soonyoung settles down in a relatively unpopulated corner, taking the blanket back to shake it out the blanket a few times before laying it flat on the ground.

Soonyoung groans when you pull out the workbooks as soon as you sit down. “There isn’t anything more fun to study?”

“Soonyoung, it’s the LSAT,” you say. “It’s not really meant to be fun.”

“But–”

“You’re the one that wanted to go outside,” you remind him, tapping his arm with a pen. “If you’re too distracted we’ll have to go back into the library.”

He gazes at the other people laughing for a long moment before turning to face you again. You raise your eyebrows and he takes the workbook from your hands, flipping it open to the sticky-note bookmark.

The next twenty minutes are relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the chatter of the people around you, too far away to clearly hear, and Soonyoung humming while working through practice problems. You’re not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it, though he bobs his head slightly. You wonder what Soonyoung is like when he isn’t trying to get out of studying–even outside of the party invites you’ve avoided, you rarely see him on campus (because you aren’t on campus when you don’t have to be). You almost went to dinner with him to celebrate passing the business class freshman year where you met him, but you got food poisoning and he never rescheduled.

It’s for the best, though. Even like this, tutoring him minus payment of any kind, you can tell that spending too much time with him will be dangerous. He flirts so easily it feels genuine, and even though he can be ridiculous, he’s never been anything but lovely to you. And it doesn’t help that he’s hot. He glances up, as if he can feel you staring, but he just flashes a smile at you and ducks his head again. Damn frat bros with endearing charms that melt you like the perfect grilled cheese.

Perfectly blue without a cloud in sight, the sky is an empty canvas above you. The air is just the right temperature, just between hot and cold, the sun ensuring that it never dips into the latter. Just the slightest breeze kisses your skin, lifting the edges of the papers but never flipping them. Soonyoung was right: the perfect date weather.

“Soonyoung?” You turn your head to see a dark haired man standing over you. Wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and sides ripped open, you figure there’s a 80% chance he’s one of Soonyoung’s frat brothers.

“Seokmin?” Soonyoung frowns.

“You were actually serious?” Seokmin asks, gesturing to the books. “You know Seungkwan said it as a joke, right?”

“Yeah, but a bet is a bet,” Soonyoung says. “And I really want his Playstation.”

Seokmin snorts. “You know he only said it because he knows you can’t do it.”

“I’m not like I’m losing anything by trying.” Soonyoung sets his lips in a sharp line of determination (which you recognize from the dining hall when he sweet talks his way into free cookies). Seokmin raises his eyebrows at his aggression but eventually decides it’s not worth the fight. Instead, he plops down on the blanket, making a little triangle between the three of you.

“You must be YN,” he says, extending his hand. His easy smile and the way he sat down without waiting for an invitation reminds you of Soonyoung. Unlike the faux blonde, it feels foreign and you shift a little closer to Soonyoung instinctively.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you lie. Seokmin’s eyes curl into little half moons when he smiles, apparently not noticing your awkwardness. You can’t help but feel like he’s intruding as he turns to Soonyoung and asks him to explain what he’s doing. Soonyoung explains it well, though it helps that he was working on the analytical reasoning section.

It’s because he’s interrupting Soonyoung’s studying. That’s why it bothers you that he’s here, even though Soonyoung doesn’t seem to mind and Seokmin seems genuinely interested. Unfortunately, the revelation doesn’t stop you from wishing Seokmin would just leave.

“I don’t know how you do any of this,” Seokmin says after Soonyoung explains the next problem.

“It’s easy!” Soonyoung says. “Half the time the answer is in the question, you just have to know where to look!”

“Quoting me?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Well I did learn from the best!”

“So cliche,” you mutter but the compliment gets you smiling anyway. You look up to find Seokmin looking at you. He has a strange look on his face, frowning, but not angrily. He looks a little bit like when Soonyoung can’t decide between the right answer and the second best option. He doesn’t look away when you catch him staring.

“What?”

He pauses a long moment before answering, as if pondering how to answer. Finally, he says, “I like you.”

You stare at him. Soonyoung had been diligently working on practice problems but his head jerks up at the words.

“I mean, you’re a cool person,” Seokmin quickly says. “Good tutor for Soonyoung.” After hearing his name, Soonyoung grins and turns back to underlining in the workbook.

“Tutor?” You say. “I really don’t think I’m doing all that much.”

Seokmin shrugs. ”I don’t know many people that would spend this much time with someone if they aren't helping. Besides, either way, I’ve never seen Soonyoung this dedicated before.”

“That’s because you don’t dare to bet against me,” Soonyoung says without looking up.

“He might have a point there,” you say. Soonyoung takes a moment to smile at your support.

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re cool,” Seokmin says.

“Thank you?” You wait for him to say something else but he sits back and rests his hands behind him, stretching out in the sun a little more. Sighing, he tilts his head toward the sun.

“Seems like the weather will turn cold soon,” he says. “This might be the last warm day of the year.” He glances at Soonyoung. “And you’re spending it here instead of pre-gaming the Tau party.”

Soonyoung’s pencil freezes. He peeks up at Seokmin, then at you, then shrugs. “I take my bets seriously.”

“Whatever,” Seokmin says. He lays back fully, half of his body sticking off the blanket into the grass. “What are the Ke$ha lyrics? ‘The party don’t start ‘til Soonyoung walks in?’” He doesn’t wait for a correction. “I think I’ll wait until you're finished and we’ll tear it up together.”

Soonyoung glances at you, then unsuccessfully tries to hide his laughter at your expression. You don’t mean to be rude, but Seokmin really just invited himself all on his own and crashed your picnic. Study date. Outdoor study session. The name doesn’t matter, what does matter is it’s only supposed to be you and Soonyoung.

“He’ll fall asleep in about five seconds,” Soonyoung whispers. “He doesn’t actually care about the party, he just likes my nap blankets.” On that point you can’t really blame Seokmin.

“As long as it doesn’t disrupt your studying,” you say.

“Right,” Soonyoung says, more to himself than you. “That’s what’s important.”

You aren’t so oblivious that you miss his bitterness, but you are enough of a coward to decide not to ask about it. How do you even ask about something like that? You can barely answer his questions about the LSAT, so feelings? No chance.

You flip open your own workbook and set a pencil case down to keep the book open and ignore the soft snores from Seokmin. Soonyoung hums, the soft breeze carrying the gentle tune to you and easing you into a false sense of comfort, planting the idea that it’s always been like this and it always will be. But Soonyoung will take the LSAT in November and you will graduate in the spring and there won’t be any more excuses for seeing him, let alone laying out in the sun with him. Letting yourself enjoy this moment has dangerous consequences for your heart.

And yet you enjoy the warm sun on your skin and hum along with Soonyoung anyway. Seokmin is right: this kind of day won’t last long.

You jump awake at the sound. It takes you a moment to register where you are, to blink the sleep out of your eyes and recognize the stiff library chairs, the yellow tinted lighting of the study rooms on the third floor. Built like a prison cell with no windows and stained linoleum floors, you aren’t entirely sure how you fell asleep. The last thing you remember is working on your essay on Sense and Sensibility, which was rather difficult since you haven’t had the time to finish rereading it. Your book rests on the table next to your open laptop, screen dark.

A second knock reminds you why you woke up in the first place and you turn to the door. Through the glass door you see a student with a backpack hanging off their shoulder, half smiling. They turn the knob, opening the door just enough to stick their head in.

“Hey, sorry, I think I have the room scheduled,” they say.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I lost track of time,” you say, slamming your laptop shut and shoving everything into your backpack. To their credit, the other student doesn’t rush you, even apologizing and telling you to take your time. But if you’ve lost the room, that means the two hours you had booked the study room for–the two hours you designated for writing the essay and doing problem sets–were spent asleep, which means the LSAT cram schedule has been completely thrown off with only three days before the test.

You groan as you step into the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor. The farther up, the more intense the quiet levels get. Hopefully it won’t be so quiet that you fall asleep, but since you got a nap, you should be able to power through an all-nighter. It wouldn’t be the first time. You brace yourself to check your phone for the time, though being kicked out of the room means you already know your fate. 9:08 means that you have a little less than three hours until the library closes. You’ve done more with less time.

The first couple desks are occupied by students but you don’t stray, heading for a familiar corner, ignoring the empty desks that line the stacks. Your corner, that you found freshman year during finals season when you couldn’t find an empty desk, is perfect: hidden behind the encyclopedia shelves with a light directly above it, only three dicks carved into it–all on the underside (discovered on a particularly bad day where you found it most comfortable to lay underneath and rethink your entire life). You smile at the small comfort, striding through the stacks with Sense and Sensibility still in your arms.

You nearly drop the book when you see the backpack, abruptly turning despite the fact that it must have been obvious to whoever stole your corner that you were headed there. You feel rage boiling up and threatening to spill. You close your eyes, reminding yourself that the corner isn’t actually yours. Still, as you settle into a desk facing a giant window that reveals the dark campus, you can’t help but feel bitter. Your thoughts stray to the desk that should be yours, even as you pull out your computer.

BATTERY LOW

The words light up your screen, mocking you before the screen falls dark again. You dig in your backpack for your charger that you always slip into the main pocket. You feel your underused pencil pouch, the single journal since you keep most of your notes on your laptop, LSAT prep book, your three folders, and no charger. Even when you look inside and lay the entire contents of your backpack on the desk in front of you, the only charger you find is for your phone. Which means the longer laptop cord is probably sitting on your desk, all the way back at your apartment.

A twenty minute walk back, twenty minutes less for writing your essay. You can start it on your phone, maybe, though the thought of switching between reading the Sparknotes and typing already exhausts you. It’s moot anyways, since all you can do is sit and stare at the desk, covered in the contents of your soul. This is what your life has become: a stack of paper that weighs less than the digital universe on your laptop that’s all contingent on a $15 charger that abandons you when you need it most.

In the end it isn’t the rage that gets to you. It’s the hilarity of it all, how silly it is that your life is dictated by something so stupid.

The fifth floor decrees silence, so you make sure that your sobs don’t make a noise. You can’t control the tears but you can hold your breath. When your head starts to feel light and your lungs are desperate for air, you can breathe through your mouth and inhale as slow as you can to keep the shakiness to a minimum. You can do everything you can to hold it together, even when you’re falling apart.

Someone taps you on the shoulder. You lift your head, ready to face a tired librarian kicking you out but instead you see bleach blonde hair and a forced smile over a furrowed brow.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, glad for the quiet because you don’t trust your voice to support you.

He holds up a thick, leatherbound book. LSAT for Dummies. “Extra reading couldn’t hurt, right?”

You blink at him. The only times you’ve seen Soonyoung in the library on his own has been with a thick blanket and closed eyes (it’s how you know he sleeps with his mouth open, just a little). You can’t quite believe he’s in front of you and yet he takes a step closer and doesn’t vanish.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“Shhh,” you say, holding your finger to your lips to get him to quiet down, even though there’s no one in sight. “Quiet floor.”

He nods, looking around as if he’s waiting for someone to kick him out. He turns to look at your desk, the contents of your backpack still strewn about. He tilts his head but doesn’t dare raise his voice to ask. You know he hasn’t missed the tears, still wet on your cheeks.

You done? He mouths.

Not even close, you think, but you nod anyways because it’s the easier answer. Soonyoung doesn’t hesitate, gently closing your laptop and sweeping everything into your backpack. You watch as he dumps it all into the biggest pocket, zipping it up and slinging it onto his back. He tucks the law book under his arm and holds out his other hand for you to take.

“Come on,” he whispers. And you take it, let him pull you out of your chair. The walk to the elevator; out of the library; toward the edge of campus; nothing feels far when Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your hand. You follow him in a daze, clinging to his hand in the off-chance that all your luck rides on him–like if you let go, you’ll lose your tether to this planet.

Soonyoung rarely walks in silence and today is not an exception. He rambles about the only member of the frat capable of cooking that apparently can’t do anything without creating a giant mess. Even as he complains about the guy, Soonyoung can’t help defending him, explaining in mouth-watering detail how good his food is.

“One time he crowd sourced some steaks and did a grill for the new pledges and they all thought it was a prank or something and nearly cried when he actually let them eat them. I think they burnt their mouths from eating it too fast, afraid someone was going to take it away from them.” Soonyoung stops at the edge of campus. He glances at you, a question in his eyes. Where are we going?

“Soonyoung,” you say. Squeezing his hand feels natural. “I don’t really want to go back right now.”

He nods, squeezing your hand back. “You want to go for a ride?”

“You have a car?”

“Nope.” Soonyoung fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes a call. You can only hear Soonyoung, who says, “I need a ride,” and “Pick me up by the duck statue,” and then he hangs up.

The edge of campus that Soonyoung drags you to is right next to the athletic fields, which explains why there is a giant statue of the mascot that towers over you. It has three of its own personal spotlights and shiny claws from fans rubbing them for good luck, despite there being no official tradition. You only went to one game, mostly to confirm you would rather be anywhere else (except maybe the bathroom of the stadium). Either way, the only thing you do know about the statue and mascot for your school is that it is not a duck.

“That’s a raven.” You point at the statue.

Soonyoung frowns between you and the hunk of metal. “Oh, Larry?”

“It has a name?”

“Well, there’s the official name, which is like, Midnight Rain or something, and the frat name.”

“And the frat name is Larry?”

Soonyoung shrugs. “I didn’t choose it.”

“And you call it a duck, too?”

“It looks like a duck.”

You study the statue. You aren’t an ornithologist, but you’re pretty sure ducks have webbed feet instead of talons, and different beaks. Plus you’ve never seen a pure black duck. But you’ve spent enough time with Soonyoung to know it doesn’t have to make sense when the frat is involved (in fact, you’ve found sense is rarely involved in their decisions).

“We just call it the duck. Or Larry, when we want to be formal.” Soonyoung jumps at the honk of a horn. You turn around with him to find an obnoxiously red convertible parked against the curb. The driver’s smooth black hair is styled to look effortless, hair falling just above his eyes, and he wears sunglasses despite the fact that the sun went down three hours ago. He might be attractive, if he wasn’t trying so hard. You never thought you had a type, but someone like Soonyoung, who wears clothes that he likes and sticks his hair straight up because he thinks it looks funny–that’s more your style.

“Here’s our ride,” Soonyoung says. He starts walking, pulling you with him, still holding your hand. You aren’t sure if he even realizes, but you’re in no hurry to remind him.

“Hey Josh,” he says.

Driver (Josh, apparently), finally pulls off his sunglasses. “Soonyoung, you have a friend.”

“I’m YN,” you say, wishing your voice didn’t sound so scratchy from crying.

“Oh, I know,” he says, a twinkle in his eye that flirts between danger and fun. “I’m Joshua.” You try not to feel unsettled by it. He raises an eyebrow as Soonyoung slides into the backseat and you sit beside him. “Am I just an Uber to you?”

“Seungcheol is out and I knew there was no way you would let me drive your car,” Soonyoung says.

“So, yes?”

Soonyoung shrugs and laughs at Joshua’s expression.

“Where are we headed?” He asks with a resigned sigh as if he’s used to Soonyoung’s antics. Has he done this before? You frown. Why does it matter to you if he’s done this with someone else? You’re so busy with the internal war, you miss Soonyoung’s answer.

“Seriously?” Joshua asks. “It’s a weeknight.”

“Like that’s ever been a problem for you.”

Joshua glances at you. “You’re okay with this?”

You pause. You don’t actually know where Soonyoung said to go. But it’s Soonyoung, your heart says. You're inclined to agree with it tonight. “Yeah.”

He shakes his head and mutters something you don’t catch and kicks the car into gear. Before long, you are flying down a two lane road you didn’t even know existed. The wind starts to pick up with the top of the car down, blasting your face. Though your nose is still stuffed from crying, the air fills your lungs, tasting like dead leaves and unnatural warmth courtesy of climate change. For the first time tonight, you can breathe.

The clock reads just shy of 1 am by the time the car stops. As soon as the rumbling engine cuts out, another noise takes over, drowning everything else out. Crashes too rhythmic to be thunder, the blows softened by tall dunes illuminated by the car’s headlights that Joshua didn’t turn off.

Soonyoung turns to you with a grin. “Ready to have some fun?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, jumping out of the car instead of opening the door, ignoring Joshua’s shout. He sprints toward the crashing waves.

Joshua shakes his head, opening his door and ushering you out from the back. He even closes the door behind you, folding his arms over his chest and walking slowly to the beach with you. The headlights cut out but the moon and stars shine enough to see where the boardwalk ends and the sand begins. Soonyoung’s movement gives him away more than any light, running alongside the water and dancing with the tide.

You clear your throat. The ride cleared your head enough for you to feel properly embarrassed about meeting someone right after sobbing. You shudder to imagine how terrible you looked when he first picked you up, clinging to Soonyoung like he was the only thing keeping you alive. A blush forms just at the thought of it.

“So, you do this often?” You ask.

“Do something truly insane because of Soonyoung? All the time.” Joshua laughs. “We don’t usually end up this far away though, and usually someone’s life is in imminent danger.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you say, watching Soonyoung strip his socks and shoes off and toss them behind him. One sock gets caught in the wind and blows back toward you and Joshua.

Joshua stops before the two of you can catch up to him. You turn to look at him. It’s difficult to read his expression in the moonlight but he frowns like he’s not sure he should say something. Eventually he says, “I’m going for a walk down the boardwalk.” He glances at Soonyoung, then back at you and smiles. “Have fun with him.”

You watch him turn around and trudge back up the sand, wondering if all of Soonyoung’s friends are this strange. Maybe it’s just being in a frat. You grab Soonyoung’s sock and set it with his shoes, smiling when he turns around and waves like a maniac.

“It’s the ocean!” He shouts over the crashes.

“You’re soaked!” You shout back. He glances down and apparently finally realizes his shirt is wet, clinging to his shoulders already. He strides back toward you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer.

“My shoes are not coming off!” You warn him.

“Just come closer!” He says. “It’s amazing!” You stand with him at the edge of the water, watching it rise in the darkness and draw closer and closer. It crashes on the sand first, a violent move, kicking up wet sand and mixing it with white water. The frothy white water creeps forward, until you have to dance backward. Soonyoung stays in the water, letting it wash around his feet.

“It feels better like this,” he says.

“My feet are covered in enough sand,” you say, though he does look like he’s having fun. The water must be freezing this time of the year–it would feel so nice running over your skin. But you’d end up with wet socks and even more sand in your shoes to clean out.

Soonyoung holds out his hand. “You’d like this.”

You chew on your lip. Normally you’d laugh in his face and say ‘not a chance.’ But normalcy has never been running three hours away to the beach in the middle of the night when you have class at 9 in the morning. You pull off the sneakers without untying them and pull your socks off, setting them next to Soonyoung’s and joining him at the edge of the water. His hand isn’t out by the time you return but he slips it into yours when you join his side.

Another wave crashes and you watch the water creep forward, faster than you expect it to be–and you’re right, it’s freezing, but Soonyoung’s right too, it sends an icy shock throughout your body that sends a tingly rush up from your toes to every nerve in your body, setting them on fire. You squeeze his hand and laugh.

“Good?” He asks.

“I love it.”

You don’t know how long you stand there, holding onto Soonyoung’s hand and letting the water wash over you. After a few waves, it doesn’t feel cold anymore. You stand until your feet are buried in wet sand, each wave sending you lower and lower.

“My feet are freezing,” Soonyoung eventually says.

“Mine, too.” You lift your feet reluctantly, already missing the coarse sand and cold water. You have to let go of Soonyoung’s hand to put on your socks and shoes, shuddering at all the sand in your socks. The cotton became damp from sitting too close to the water, your shoes faring the same. Yet you don’t regret a second of it.

You stand up and stretch, feeling your spine pop. When you turn back around, you almost scream. You manage to contain it to a gasp, a wheezing Soonyoung’s name. He blinks at you innocently, like he isn’t standing in front of you with his shirt in his hand.

“What are you doing?” You choke out.

“We’re at the beach,” he says. “I have to take pictures.”

“And you need to take off your shirt for that?”

“Why? Does it bother you?” He smirks.

Muscles have never been a selling point for you. The “people” you’ve crushed on have all been smart or kind, crushes of intellect rather than bodies. His toned abs, sculpted shoulders, the way his body curves gently as he allows you to stare at him–normally it wouldn’t get to you at all (other than the embarrassment of being this close to a shirtless man for the first time in a long time). But it’s not just the muscles. It’s Soonyoung, your Soonyoung who calls you at four in the morning to tell you about the movie he just finished and is too endearing for you to truly be annoyed at. It’s the Soonyoung that gets lost in the Engineering building even as a senior. It’s the Soonyoung that drags you to the beach in the middle of the night just to make you smile. Yes, it bothers you. No one should be this incredible and hot.

“No,” you mumble, failing to convince yourself of the lie.

Soonyoung seems to be done teasing you, dropping his shirt into your hands. He walks a little closer to the waves, apparently not bothered by the chilly ocean breeze. He starts to pose, then raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to take pictures?”

“Where’s your phone?”

“The camera’s broken,” he says. “Just use yours and you can send them to me.” He continues to pose, flexing his arms as subtly as he can which isn’t particularly subtle (though the muscles are even more impressive in person). You are tempted to reach out and feel the tension, before you realize you are staring again.

You numb to Soonyoung in this half-dressed state as you take the pictures. The frat must have a professional photographer or something, because Soonyoung knows how to pose. Despite some of the angles and positions seeming awkward, each picture comes out as if from a photoshoot. He only gives you a few instructions on taking pictures, and compliments you way beyond your talents.

“Just like that!” Soonyoung says, breaking his model face to grin at you. “You’re really good at this.”

“You can’t even see the pictures,” you say. You bite your lips so you don’t smile. Apparently that doesn’t matter, because he keeps posing. It’s a good thing you just upgraded your phone storage because you estimate at least a thousand pictures are taken for each pose.

“Are you guys done?” You jump at the voice next to you. Apparently Joshua returned from his walk, sneaking up using the crashing waves as cover. “We should head back soon if you want to make your morning classes.”

“Definitely want to,” you say. You haven’t gotten any work done, but that’s no excuse to skip class. Soonyoung pouts but doesn’t argue.

“Perfect!” Joshua claps his hands together. He shoves you toward Soonyoung and grabs your phone. “One more picture together and we’ll go.”

Being at a distance worked perfectly fine but those muscles have you frozen in place again. Soonyoung throws an arm over your shoulders and grins like you do this all the time. His biceps press through your jacket, the flex of the muscle exactly as you imagined it, not that it stops your heart from thundering.

You can’t help but steal a glance at Soonyoung. Despite feeling like you’ll malfunction at any second, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. Soonyoung’s features look soft this close, even the sharp cut of his jawline. You want to study every line of his face, each curve, memorize it until the way his lips slowly curl into a smile is carved into your heart. Spending the rest of your life here doesn’t seem too bad.

“Let’s go,” Joshua says, breaking whatever magic froze time for you. You are left with cold toes and sand in your sneakers as you march up the dune and back to Joshua’s car.

“I just cleaned it,” he groans, looking at all the sand you and Soonyoung tracked in.

You mumble an apology but when you try to offer to clean it for him, he shakes his head. “Nobody touches my baby.”

You glance at Soonyoung, who followed you into the backseat again. He rolls his eyes at Joshua, smiling in a way that you know means he isn’t serious. You smile back at him and click your seatbelt into place.

“Address?” Joshua asks, handing you his phone. You punch it in and hand the phone back. 3 hours and sixteen minutes.

Joshua whistles, seeing the arrival time of 4:53. “Remind me never to do this again.”

“The beach was your idea,” Soonyoung says. His words slur a little.

“Just go to sleep already,” Joshua says. The engine rumbles on and he pulls away from the empty boardwalk.

“‘m not even tired,” Soonyoung says, fighting a yawn. He slouches and leans against the headrest, rolling his head to look at you. “You have class in the morning?”

“Not until nine.”

“That’s good.” He doesn’t succeed in fighting the yawn this time. His blinks become longer and longer, eyes closing more than opening. It’s like watching the energizer bunny shut down.

“Soonyoung?”

He opens his eyes and you think maybe he’d wait for the rest of his life for you to say something.

“Thank you.”

“Always.” He smiles lazily. “I swore I’d do anything.”

His sworn loyalty. It should be fun, having a boy like him dedicated to fulfilling your wishes. But what would it be like if he wasn’t sworn to you? If he did these kinds of things just because he wants to?

You didn’t think you were tired but the next thing you know, Soonyoung gently shakes you awake.

“We’re here,” he says in a quiet, very un-Soonyoung voice.

You blink at him, trying to figure out why your neck hurts so much, frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings. From the rear view mirror, Joshua watches you. Right, instead of writing your essay, doing the problem sets, or any of the readings, you went to the beach. You wait for the guilt to set in but it doesn’t come. None of the anxieties from earlier in the evening (the technical part of your brain reminds you it was the night before) overwhelm you.

“Right,” you say, clearing your throat. Your mouth tastes nasty but before you can say anything, Soonyoung hands you a water bottle. You take a sip before saying thank you.

Soonyoung unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you up.”

You nod, grateful you don’t have to ask him. The night has been a full adventure on its own yet you aren’t quite ready for it to be over. At least you aren’t ready to say goodbye to Soonyoung.

There’s still something you want to tell him. You want to tell him that you like his blonde hair, even though everyone else thinks it’s ridiculous. You want to tell him that you lied earlier, you nearly lost your mind seeing him shirtless. You want to tell him that you feel proud when he gets the right answer on the first try, that you think his concentration frown is cute, that you’ve never enjoyed studying like you do when he’s by your side. You want to tell him that on your worst days, days like today, just being Soonyoung makes it better.

But you learned a long time ago tired ramblings and drunk confessions are siblings. They both end in heartbreak and twelve packs of ramen.

So you ride the elevator with him and watch the lights flicker. You never cared when Jihoon brought his friends (well, Jun) over, but the carpets that look dirty no matter how many times they’re cleaned and beige walls are even worse tonight. You can stand to live in a boring apartment, but not a dirty one.

“This is me,” you say, gesturing to 808. You turn your back on the door, facing Soonyoung instead. He looks radiant under the fluorescent hallway lights, which really isn’t fair. They make his bleach blonde hair look natural, highlight the blemishes on his skin, easy to see when he’s this close.

You should go inside and he should go back down but neither of you move. For the second time tonight, you are frozen in time with Soonyoung.

The floor creaks and you jump, turning around at the same time, accidentally knocking into Soonyoung’s chest as you turn to face the noise behind you. Jihoon, gym bag over his shoulder, frowns at you across the hallway.

“Are you seriously just getting back now?”

Shit. You never texted him. “Um, Jihoon, this is Soonyoung,” you say. He waves behind you. “Soonyoung, Jihoon.”

Jihoon folds his arms. “I’ve heard about you.” You glare at him, which he ignores. “You’re taking the LSAT on a dare?”

“You’re the one that wants to be a music producer?”

Jihoon raises his eyebrows and looks at you. “You’ve mentioned me?”

“Only the worst,” you say, smiling at him.

“I thought you were at the library all night?” Jihoon says.

“We went on an adventure,” you say. You show him your sandy shoes. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear he knows he interrupted something, but the stubborn asshole doesn’t move.

You turn back to Soonyoung. “Goodnight,” you say, resisting the urge to hug him.

“It’s morning,” Jihoon says.

“Goodnight,” Soonyoung says, glancing at Jihoon. He pauses and fidgets with the hem of his shirt but finally gives you a half hug that feels more like a bro hug than anything else. He disappears into the elevator then pops his head out a final time “Send me the photos!”

You turn to Jihoon. “I forgot to text you.”

“I figured I’d wait until the morning to call,” he said. “Even if you were kidnapped there’s still a 90% chance you’d figure out a way to show up for class on time.” He turns the key in the lock and strides into the apartment. You’re too tired to argue back, especially when he’s right, so you just follow him into the apartment.

“I like him,” Jihoon says before you vanish into your room.

“Should I find you a wedding dress?” You say. “Soonyoung is single.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes and grabs a protein shake from the fridge. “Why do I even bother?”

You don’t wait for him to leave first, peeling your shoes off in the entryway where you can sweep up the sand and practically fall into your room. It’s race to change into an old t-shirt before you collapse onto your bed.

You set an alarm for 8:30 and check fifty times to make sure it’s actually set. Then you open your camera roll, shaking your head at the countless pictures. You choose twenty non-blurry ones before your eyes start to droop. You scroll to the bottom and click on the pictures Joshua took. Soonyoung grins for the camera, his easy smile as captivating on your phone as it is in person. You are staring at him, a soft smile on your lips and hearts practically bugging out of your eyes. It’s so ridiculously obvious how you feel. You send him his thirst traps and keep that picture for yourself.

It takes a week for you to realize Soonyoung never posted the pictures.

The weight of the world has the decency to wait until you’re home to fall on your shoulders. You hold your keys up and can’t push it into the lock. If you didn’t do well today, it means the past two months have been a complete waste–all the studying, the assignments you got low grades on because you were studying, the nights you spent at your desk–wasted and doomed to repeat.

All but the time you spent with Soonyoung. Even if you fail (again), he should at least score decently, and you can’t consider that a complete waste.

You raise your key to insert it into the lock but the door flies open. Jihoon glares at you, arms folded over his chest. “What the hell is taking you so long, your boyfriend is here.”

You peer past him and find Soonyoung lounging on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table. He sits up when he sees you, grinning and waving. You wonder if he’s been there since you told him you were finished. You make a mental note to get Jihoon his favorite protein shakes.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Me and your boyfriend heard you shaking your keys in front of the door for like twenty minutes,” Jihoon says.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, praying Soonyoung didn’t hear either of you. You push past Jihoon, letting him lock the door behind you. Soonyoung jumps off the couch as soon as you drop your bag, almost tackling you in a hug. You pretend not to hear Jihoon’s scoff as he locks himself in his room again.

“How’d it go?” He asks, squeezing you one more time before letting go. You try not to feel disappointed about it. “I mean, I know you did amazing, but how do you feel? Was the room super hot or super cold? Did the proctor give you the evil eye when you turned in your paper because they were secretly trying to sabotage you?”

“No?” You frown. “And the room was fine, I felt pretty good about it, but I felt good last time, so I don’t really know, I just really don’t want to take it again.” You sigh. “I know you want to know as many details as possible for your test, but I really, really don’t want to think about it right now.”

Soonyoung grins and pulls out a package of White Claws and a bottle of vodka from a plastic bag that you just noticed sitting on your coffee table. “That’s perfect because I brought a gift from the whole frat.”

“That seems pretty on brand,” you say.

“And a gift from me.” He digs again and pulls out a DVD. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

“You’re kidding.” You say. “I think I have to be drunk to watch that.”

“You don’t have faith in my taste in movies?” Soonyoung asks but he pops open the first drink and slips something shaped concerningly like a knife out of his pocket and stabs the can, chugging it before it can really spill on your carpet. Before you can register what he did, he tosses the empty can on the coffee table, immediately scrambling to straighten it. “Sorry, force of habit.”

“Soonyoung, I don’t think I can keep up with you,” you say, sitting slowly onto the couch.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m a lightweight,” he says. “I definitely should not have chugged that.”

“I guess I better catch up,” you say, unscrewing the vodka and pouring a shot in the little paper cups that Soonyoung brought. The acrid scent curls your lip but you knock it back as fast as you can, forcing it down when you miss the back of your throat and it burns your tongue. Soonyoung hands you a can, the lime flavored seltzer pushing the nasty flavor out of your mouth.

“Yeah, I’m terrible at that,” you say.

Soonyoung shrugs. “I’m not one to judge. You should have seen me as a pledge.”

You grin at the mental image of Soonyoung wearing a fake toga made of bedsheets. “I bet you were adorable.” You take another sip of the drink (which tastes significantly worse when you aren’t comparing it to straight vodka) and miss Soonyoung scrambling for words.

“I can’t drink this,” you declare, setting the can down. You cross the room to the fridge, opening it and studying the contents. Soonyoung follows you, resting his chin on the door and glancing inside.

“Jihoon does most of the cooking,” you say, feeling self-conscious. Not much populates your fridge, a package of chicken breast and a carton of eggs. A couple containers of take out that are either two days or two weeks old sit in front, and the drawer of fruit that is filled with apples from Jihoon’s mother definitely smells funny.

“I live in a frat house, this is heaven.”

You flash him a smile and grab the orange juice, shaking it as you grab a glass from the cabinet (thank god Jihoon did the dishes last night). Soonyoung follows you back to the couch and waits for you to pour a glass and add two shots of vodka. You raise the glass and he takes your rejected White Claw and clinks it.

“Cheers,” he says, sipping this one instead of chugging it. He sets it down and leans against the armrest so that he can face you. “How did you meet Jihoon, by the way? He seems like a pretty reserved dude.”

“Yeah, sorry if he was short with you, he isn’t half as mean as he pretends to be,” you say.

“We actually talked a lot.” He pauses, tilting his head as he thinks about it. “Well, a lot about working out. I think I could turn him into my gym buddy with enough pressure.”

“I would pay to see that,” you say. Jihoon tried to bring you to the gym exactly once, and you have regretted it ever since. The soreness haunts you, but you think Soonyoung might be one of the few people on the planet that could keep up with him with those arms.

“I didn’t know you were into that,” Soonyoung says with a giggle. You roll your eyes.

“You know for a fact that’s not what I meant,” you say, “and to answer your question, we lived in the same dorm freshman year. He was next door, and both our roommates were psychotic, so we ended up trading. We’ve been living together ever since because I’m the only one that can put up with his annoying ass. Also he cooks and keeps me alive during finals.”

“I can’t believe I was a dorm assignment away from living with you.” Soonyoung shakes his head and pretends to sigh. “Fate isn’t on my side.”

“Don’t you live in a frat house?”

“Semantics,” Soonyoung says. He pauses. “Semen-tics.” He starts to laugh and though the joke is far from funny, you find yourself giggling too.

“You’re drunk,” you say.

Soonyoung points at you. “I’m pretty sure you’re drunk too.”

You tilt your head from side to side, trying to think at first but the motion feels nice, toeing the line between dizzying and comfortable. Right, you were checking if you were drunk. You have your answer, but you don’t want to stop spinning just yet.

“Do you really want to be a lawyer?” Soonyoung asks. You freeze with your head on your right shoulder, frowning at him. “I mean, like, how do you know?”

“It makes good money,” you say. “Well, corporate law does. Everything going according to plan, I’ll be out of debt before I’m thirty, retiring at 65.”

“But how do you know that’s what you want?” Soonyoung asks. You wonder if he’s asking you or himself. You think about the first day you met him.

It was the first day of your sophomore year, 8 in the morning in the worst classroom in the Armhayer Building at the end of a dead end hallway with no windows. The business program had a required career building course and some cruel administrator decided to make the other available class clash with the other required business class for the year, so half the class was people you were stuck with for the full year. Despite its reputation, the business school at the university seemed to only accept idiots.

You settled for a long semester of biting back your eye rolls and yawning through class, choosing a seat in the front so that at least you won’t have to look at anyone else. And for fifteen minutes, you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Then Soonyoung walked in.

He was out of breath, telling the professor that he got lost several times and someone gave him the wrong directions. You didn’t really pay attention to him until he dropped into the seat next to you. Fully prepared to give him a side eye and judge him for the rest of the semester, Soonyoung flashed a smile at you and apologized for disrupting you. He was so obviously not your type, yet when his head dropped on your shoulder, you didn’t wake him up. Two classes later when the professor told the class that you would be in a semester-long partner project, you didn’t hesitate to say yes when Soonyoung asked you.

Soonyoung hadn’t ever taken the class seriously, going through the motions and doing the bare minimum for most of the assignments. You never paid any attention to it, but you realize that he never actually told you what he planned to do with his life, always asking you what you planned to do with your copious amounts of money. Now you wonder if it was because he really doesn’t know.

“I want stability,” you finally say. “This plan is stable. Safe, as long as everything goes according to plan. I guess it’s not as cool as dreaming about being an astronaut or whatever, but it’s what I want.”

“I think it’s cool. Knowing what you want to do.” Soonyoung says with little enthusiasm.

“You don’t have any idea?”

He shrugs. “I have to be smart to do the things I want to do.”

“You are smart.”

“You don’t have to pander to me, I’m not looking for your pity.”

“Soonyoung.” You wait for him to look you in the eyes. “You are smart. This isn’t pity. Sure it takes you a little longer to read things, and you have to work a little harder to answer some questions, but that doesn’t mean you’re not smart. You’re just as capable as me, more capable when it comes to emotional intelligence. Have you ever noticed that wherever you go, someone is always waving to you? I don’t think there’s a single person in this world that doesn’t like you. Don’t downplay how important that is.”

He chews on his lip and you know he doesn’t believe you. How many people have told him he’s dumb? You want to drag every single one of them here and make them apologize, make them realize how special the boy in front of you is. Eventually he shrugs. “I’ll just end up being an intern, and then I’ll be so charming they’ll promote me without realizing I don’t know what I’m doing and I’ll become a CEO that pays people to do the job for me.”

You smile and shake your head. “We can vacation together in the Bahamas.”

“Please, that’s where the semi-rich people go,” Soonyoung says, lifting his head from the back of the couch. “We’ll have our own islands and sail past each other.” This time when he smiles, the sparkle glints, just a little. His bleach blonde hair sticks in strange angles from rubbing against the couch, looking a little like a fuzzball. You reach a hand out and pat it down, except the hair is fried from being bleached so many times and almost breaks under your hand.

When you pull your hand down, Soonyoung is staring at you. Except staring isn’t the right word. He looks at you like no one else ever has, a thousand unsaid words behind his eyes, a language like no other that maybe only you can understand. Those dark eyes, so soft and warm, begging you to drown in them. He’s a siren, luring you in with a song of desire that only you can hear.

You don’t realize you’ve leaning closer until you fall forward, catching yourself on his chest. Soonyoung’s hand flies to your waist, moving so fast it must have been reflex.

“Sorry,” you mutter but you don’t get off him. Resisting his eyes from this close is impossible. Soonyoung blinks at you, frozen. It occurs to you that you’re almost kissing him. All you have to do is lean forward, press your lips against his. Would his lips be chapped? Would he kiss you back? Would he make fun of you for being a terrible kisser? You hold your breath, wondering if you are about to find out.

You jump at the bang of a door slamming shut. You push off Soonyoung’s chest, back to your side of the couch until your back slams against the armrest. The pain is almost enough to sober you up and you realize exactly what you were about to do. You can’t bear to look at Soonyoung staring at you so you look at Jihoon instead, who doesn’t seem to realize that he interrupted anything by walking into the kitchen, headphones blasting music so loud that you can hear it. He grabs one of the takeout containers from the fridge and finally notices you and Soonyoung staring at him.

“What?” He shouts over his headphones. You shake your head and he stares at you all the way back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to make you jump again.

“We should probably start the movie,” you say, turning to face forward, anywhere but Soonyoung. “I’ll get my laptop.” He doesn’t say anything but you can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you as you jump up. Ignoring the spinning in your head, you walk to your room. You lean against the door as soon as it shuts behind you, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

You wish you could blame the idiocy on the alcohol, but you aren’t drunk enough for that. Besides, regardless of the reason, it was a mistake, it would be a mistake, to kiss Soonyoung. No matter how badly you want to do it.

Your computer sits on your desk. The longer it takes for you to get back, the stranger it will be, so you grab it and return to the couch. Dizziness gives you an excuse to peer at the floor, perfectly valid reason to avoid Soonyoung’s eyes.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown?” He asks when you insert the DVD into your laptop.

You raise your eyebrows but still don’t have the courage to face him. “It’s that good?”

Soonyoung laughs easily, as if nothing happened. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

You peek at him from the corner of your eye. He faces the computer, sitting back against the couch. Other than his red tinted cheeks, you can’t tell he’s drunk at all. You have no idea what you’re in for, he said. He has no idea how right he is.

You hold Soonyoung by the shoulders, staring him down. Your eyes begin to water but you hold them open, determined not to lose. Soonyoung squints, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. You just have to hold out a little longer, but your eyes begin to ache and the air pierces into them.

“Damn!” Soonyoung cries, throwing himself back onto the couch and squeezing his eyes shut. You let go of his shoulders and resist the urge to rub your eyes, settling for blinking as fast as humanly possible. Your eyes burn but you smile anyways, wiping tears away with the back of your hand.

“How are you so good at that?” Soonyoung asks. He gives into the impulse, hands pressed against his eyes.

“I’m really not, I think you’re just bad at staring contests,” you say. “Now hurry up, you lost so you have to answer.”

He sighs as if he didn’t beg you to help him study. With only a day before his test, you’re not sure how much this is really helping, but at least he isn’t partying with the rest of his frat (who do a pre-finals bar crawl, apparently). Instead, Soonyoung is on your couch, again. You try not to think about the last time he was here. Not productive thoughts, especially not when Soonyoung is one day away from taking the most important test of his life.

“Is it B?”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“I hate when you say that.” He peers at the paper, eyes moving slowly as he rereads the line. “No, it’s C! Wait, no, B. No, A!”

“Pick an answer.”

He chews on his lip. You have to force yourself to keep your focus on his eyes. “B,” he finally says.

You’re tempted to drag it out and make him wait but he puts on the Soonyoung Sparkle so you go ahead and nod.

“I knew it! Trust your gut!”

“You’re quoting me now.” You pretend to wipe tears from the corner of your eyes. “You’ve grown up so quickly.”

If it were Jihoon, he’d roll his eyes but Soonyoung perks up, as if you’ve given him a real compliment. He pauses before asking his next question, eyes flickering to the papers separating you from him.

“You really think I’ll do well?” He asks softly.

You study him, the way his unnaturally blonde hair has been strategically gelled to stick up in all the right places, the way his plain white t-shirt hangs loose on his shoulders. You wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror because the way he sits now, waiting for an answer as if you’d actually say no, breaks your heart a little. He really has no idea how brilliant he is, in every sense of the word. You don’t know how to make him see it so you just take his hand and wait for him to look you in the eyes.

The second the glittering dark irises meet yours, you see the desperation. He tries to smile, to hide the fear but Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You fight the urge to brush your fingers against his cheek.

“Soonyoung.” You squeeze his hand. What you feel isn’t a passing crush, you’ve known that for a while now. Admitting it doesn’t give you the bravery to do anything except pull the shield of cowardice around your heart a little tighter. “I’d be an idiot if I said I didn’t.”

He holds your gaze a little longer, until it almost looks like he believes you. Then his eyes light up. “I have a surprise for you!”

He digs into his backpack, pulling out a blanket (not the one he used when it was still warm enough to sit outside in the grass), a plastic water bottle half-full of bright green liquid, three crumpled flyers for events on campus, and finally, a small rectangular item, carefully wrapped in paper towels.

“I was a little worried it would get damaged in my backpack,” he says. “I really, really tried to walk gently and didn’t bring it near any coffee.”

You choose not to point out the unnatural liquid in the plastic water bottle, instead appreciating his efforts to protect whatever your surprise is. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t try. He carefully pulls the paper towels off, revealing a navy blue leather bound book with gilded lettering. Not just any book.

“You got it back?” You cry. Soonyoung pulls the rest of the paper towels off to reveal the intricate design on the cover, the golden pages, with Pride and Prejudice inscribed on the spine. “My baby!”

You hover over the book, not wanting to ruin it with the dirt and oils from your hands but so desperately wanting to caress the beautiful book. It’s just as you remember it, down to the tiny dent on the front cover where you accidentally knocked it against a railing. You can’t wait to put it back on your bookshelf where there has been an empty space ever since Jun managed to snag it. You remember Soonyoung is there when you hear his laughter.

“You like it that much?”

“Of course,” you say. “It’s my baby.”

“It’s a book.” But he smiles and you know he’s just teasing. So you figure, why not?

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. His frat-bro instincts must take charge because he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, pulling you against his chest and squeezing you like he’s the one getting a gift.

“Thank you,” you say. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“This is my thank you,” he says. You can feel his voice rumbling in his chest, a strange sensation that sends butterflies tumbling around between your stomach and your heart. “It’s the least I could do for you.

The awkward position isn’t exactly comfortable, twisting your body to face him with your shoulder overtop of his forcing your face into his neck but you don’t want to let go. You give yourself five more thundering heartbeats before you let go, turning to study your book again so you have an excuse to avoid his eyes.

“How did you get it back?”

“Same way you lost it,” Soonyoung says. “I made a bet.”

“On what?”

Soonyoung shrugs, turning to look at the book that still sits in his lip. He gently places it into yours, using the paper towels to prevent smudging with his fingers.

You frown. “How? Jun is in another hemisphere.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of video calls and express shipping,” Soonyoung says. “By the way, I’m wearing your friends down. Pretty soon they’ll like me more than they like you.

“Oh really?” You raise your eyebrow. You ignore the vole gnawing at your gut whispering that he might just be right.

“I got Jihoon to go to the gym with me and I got him to admit I was friends with you before he was,” he says, holding a finger out. “Jun says that he wants to meet me the second he returns to the country.” A second finger goes up. “Who else can I add to the list?”

He’s only joking. He doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but your skin wants to crawl inside out. The truth is, they are pretty much your only friends. Jihoon, Jun, and Soonyoung, the latter two having wormed their way into your life. My only friends.

“You’ve got to start going on the offensive,” Soonyoung says. He avoids your eyes and you know he didn’t miss your discomfort. Great, now he pities you. “I’m serious, Seokmin and Joshua have been asking about you, and Seungcheol keeps complaining that he hasn’t met you yet.”

You snort. “They’re frat bros, they just want more people to party with.”

“I’m a frat bro,” he says.

“Yeah, but…” But what? He’s Soonyoung? Once again, you wonder why he is so different to you–why the epitome of frat boy chaos doesn’t repulse you like he should. But he isn’t some one-dimensional steroid-infused party boy, not the type to bully the freshman trying to join just because he can. He gets drunk after two shots and makes his pledges follow him for 24 hours a day as “hazing,” only to take them for a dinner he can’t afford and skips his own classes so they don’t miss theirs.

He’s not a typical frat boy. But Soonyoung loves his frat, and you can’t find a way to tell him this without making it sound like you are looking down on the rest of the members.

So you just say, “Isn’t this supposed to be a study session?”

Soonyoung sighs, pulling the book in front of him and staring at the words. Even though you can see that he isn’t reading, he doesn’t say anything else.

“Your test is tomorrow,” you say.

“Yeah, I know.” He doesn’t pick up the pencil.

You’ve never struggled to read Soonyoung. He can’t hide when he’s upset, shoulders slumping, a little pout forming over his lips. He doesn’t fully frown but his eyebrows comes together, just a bit. And it’s usually easy to figure out what’s wrong–he’s tired, or wants to be at a party instead of studying. But now? He was fine just a moment ago, even while he was cramming earlier.

“Is something wrong?” You don’t know why you’re so scared of the answer.

“I just thought that… nNever mind.” He sighs again. “You’re right, this is a study session. I should be studying.” He doesn’t look at you and you can’t help but feel like you messed up. But Soonyoung eventually picks up his pencil and asks you to check his answers and the feeling slowly fades.

Will the rest of your feelings fade when you aren’t with him like this anymore? When he takes his test and has no reason to see you every day? Will your heart still beat at the mention of his name? Will you spend the rest of your life thinking about all the almosts with him? Or will it fade until Soonyoung is just a boy that you helped because of a silly bet?

Even as you consider it, you know the answer. He isn’t just a boy, and he never will be. Maybe that’s what really scares you.

You glare at Soonyoung. “Do you know what time it is?”

Jihoon glances at his watch. “7:43.”

Soonyoung grins beside him, arm over his shoulder. Both boys stand in your bedroom doorway looking far too composed for this ungodly hour.

“It’s a Saturday.” Just two minutes ago you were in blissful sleep. Okay, maybe not blissful, since you stayed up until three in the morning because you couldn’t fall asleep, and you were having a weird dream where you were looking for something and ended up by the stadium staring at a giant duck statue instead of the raven. But the point is you were asleep until two fists banged on your door so loud you thought it was going to fall apart.

You can’t even be that mad at Soonyoung, not when he smiles like that. So you glare at Jihoon.

“Honestly, I figured you would be up,” he says. “You were the one that said you didn’t think you were going to get any sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung says. “I really just wanted to help distract you for the last hour.” Right. The last hour until your entire future would be determined by a triple digit number. No biggie.

“Let me get dressed,” you say. They step back before you have the chance to slam the door in their face. You’d like to be able to dress up nicely, but you’re already shivering, so you grab your comfiest sweatpants and the sweatshirt Soonyoung lent you (that still smells like his cologne). You dart into the bathroom and meet the two boys in the doorway of the apartment, pulling on your sneakers.

You pull the hood over your messy hair and tighten the strings. Soonyoung grins at you and taps your nose.

“Ready to go?”

“How did you get out of bed this early?”

“Oh, I never got in,” he says. “Long story, but we gotta go, they won’t wait much longer.”

“They?” You ask but Soonyoung doesn’t hear you. He turns to Jihoon, waving.

“See you tomorrow!” He says, throwing an arm over your shoulders to pull you out the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes!”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” But he looks at you and smiles. “It’ll be fine.” Before you can thank him, he shuts the door.

Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your side, pulling you to the elevators and squeezing you against him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I should be asleep.”

Soonyoung smiles, as if your grumpiness is funny. You decide it’s moot since there’s no way you could fall asleep now that you are an hour and seven minutes away from finding out the results of your future.

“I figured I’d save you from wallowing in worry,” Soonyoung says. “We can do fun things while we wait. I planned out the whole morning, we have options! There’s going to the gym, or for a job around campus, breaking into the science lab and petting the rabbits, going to Barb’s for breakfast–”

“Breakfast,” you say. You aren’t a huge fan of getting in trouble with the college when you have just over a semester before graduation and though you aren’t sure if your stomach will accept food, working out is a guarantee for throwing up. Besides, a hot cup of coffee could clear a little of the fog in your brain.

“Barb’s it is,” Soonyoung says, practically bouncing on his toes. He really seems to only have two settings, and today he’s at 120%.

He lets go of your side when the elevator opens and you step to the ground floor of your apartment. You rub your arms and pretend like the chill is from the weather even though the lobby is still warm. He holds the door for you pretending to be a doorman, bowing and gesturing with his arm for you to pass. You turn so that he doesn’t see that the silly gesture made you smile.

Parked outside is a white jeep that looks larger than normal, and is apparently the asshole that’s been blasting their music for the past ten minutes. You aren’t surprised in the slightest when Soonyoung strides up to the car.

“I don’t have a car,” he says, belatedly apologetic. The two men in the front seat don’t seem to mind, though you suspect they have been up all night along with Soonyoung as soon as the door opens and you hear their voices singing off-tune over the blasting music.

“Boy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away,” The driver cries, using a water bottle as a mic. You recognize Seungcheol from Soonyoung’s descriptions, half from his voice and half from the back of his head. The person riding shotgun is also familiar, a mess of dark hair that must be Joshua. He doesn’t look much different in daylight, sunglasses resting on his forehead. Thankfully they turn the music down a little and stop singing when you get it.

Seungcheol grins at you through the mirror. “So I finally get to meet the infamous YN. You know, you still haven’t shown up to any parties.”

“I’ve been busy,” you say, glancing at Soonyoung who focuses a little too much on his seatbelt.

“Hi, YN,” the passenger up front says, waving at you through the rearview mirror.

“Joshua,” you say. “Get into life and death scenarios with Soonyoung recently?”

“Well, Soonyoung jumped out of a car window.” He pauses. “It wasn’t moving,” he adds when Seungcheol jerks his head towards him. “Though I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“I have done it before,” Soonyoung says solemnly. It takes him a moment to realize everyone is staring at him. “It was a dare.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Seungcheol grumbles, turning back around and putting the car into drive. Though you were thinking something along the same lines, the way Soonyoung deflates a little makes you wish Seungcheol hadn’t said anything.

The rest of the drive is quiet–at least in terms of conversation. Seungcheol cranks his stereo up to the loudest setting and blasts the Spice Girls until Joshua starts singing along. Apparently car karaoke for “Wannabe” is sacrilegious to the frat leader.

You can hear yourself think again when the car pulls into the parking lot and he finally cuts the engine. A few cars line the parking lot of the 24 hour diner that sits on the outskirts of campus. The giant neon red Barb’s that hangs over the entrance flickers in the cloudy morning light teeters the line between quaint and electrical fire waiting to happen.

The workers, a host and three waitresses, wave at the boys, and do a double take at you. You swear you hear the host whisper “Is that really them?” to Joshua as he leads the group to a table in the corner but Soonyoung distracts you with the menu.

“I had this thing memorized since freshman year, I can’t believe you’ve never been here. The pancakes are my favorite for hangover cures, not that I’m hungover by the way, I’m actually running on my third energy drink.” He taps the picture, a golden stack of perfectly fluffy pancakes that can only be photoshop.

“Aren’t energy drinks bad for your heart?”

Soonyoung shrugs. “Joshua invented this to get through finals, you mix Red Bull, Bang, and Coke and it keeps you up for three days straight. Great for when you’re nervous because you physically have to do something about it.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say. “Wait, why are you nervous?”

“Your test results come out today,” he says too quickly.

You consider debating with him but a waitress approaches, wearing a fifties frock and a high ponytail with a ribbon that probably looked like a bow at the start of her shift but has drooped down and now just looks sad. Her face is a mask of emotions, not a smile, not a frown, just emptiness, a contrast to the button clipped to her collar making her “Happy.”

“The usual?” She asks, pausing at you. She tilts her head and you can see the mask twisting at the edges, a frown almost forming on her brow. She glances at Soonyoung. “Is this who I think it is?”

“Who do you think it is?” Soonyoung asks at the same time that Joshua and Seungcheol say, “Yes.”

The corner of Happy’s lips turn into a tiny smile that seems to be her equivalent of a grin. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Okay, haha, very funny,” Soonyoung says. “Stop harassing my friend. We’ll order when we have a chance to look at the menu.”

Happy raises her eyebrow just slightly at the word “friend,” but closes her notepad. She returns to a pastel pink bar where you can clearly see her whispering and gesturing to you.

“Why do so many people know me?” You mutter, shrinking into the corner of the booth.

“The thing about Drunk Soonyoung is that he doesn’t really shut up,” Seungcheol says.

“That’s being gentle,” Joshua says. “One time he spent four hours describing Finding Nemo. That’s longer than the actual movie.”

“It’s a good movie,” Soonyoung says.

“The point is,” Seungcheol says, glaring at Joshua, “he tends to talk when he’s drunk. Usually about good things, things that he… Well, things that he likes.”

You turn your head to look at Soonyoung, who is once again pretending to study the menu. “You like studying for the LSAT that much?”

Joshua unsuccessfully tries to hide his laugh with a snort while Seungcheol gains slightly more success with a fake cough. Soonyoung doesn’t react at all, staring at the painted flowers on the menu. Eventually, he shrugs. “I’m dedicated to the bet.” He points at a stack of pancakes covered in bananas and chocolate. “That’s what I usually get.”

“Isn’t against all rules of gym core and muscle building to eat decadent things?”

“Did you just call working out ‘gym core?’” Seungcheol asks.

“Am I wrong?”

“Nope!” Soonyoung says brightly. “And cheat days are a thing, so do you want to split it or not?”

“You know I can’t say no to bananas and chocolate.”

“And pancakes!” He waves down the waitress and points to the stack.

“Ah, the new Soonyoung,” she says. “You guys getting your actual usual?”

Joshua and Seungcheol nod and she doesn’t bother to write any of it down. Then again she already knows their orders. Except she called Soonyoung’s “new.” Before you can ask what she meant, a shout makes you jump. You turn around to see a stream of boys entering, enough of whom you recognize that you realize at least half the frat has rolled into the diner. The waitresses roll their eyes and groan but somehow they don’t look all that upset.

“Mr. President!” The tallest boy, Johnny according to Soonyoung’s Instagram tags, holds a fist over his heart and pounds it a couple times. Seungcheol nods and greets each of the boys, most of whom seem to still be in various stages of inebriation. Almost all of them glance at you and whisper to each other, and you get the feeling they know exactly who you are.

Just what has Soonyoung said about you?

“How are we doing on time?” One of them calls out.

“46 minutes,” Joshua says. You frown. 46 minutes… until 9? Do they all know about today?

You tap Soonyoung on the arm. “What’s going on?”

“You see, the thing is,” he says, “apparently I was nervous?” He tries to fake a laugh but it sounds strained. “I don’t really know but the guys made me tell them about today and then I didn’t really know what was happening but I guess they followed us here? Thought you might like moral support, or something.”

You peek out at the booths crowded with frat bros and cringe back into your seat when they grin at you. “They’re all looking at me.”

“Well, I guess I do talk about you a lot,” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. He won’t meet your eyes.

Ask him why. You want to be brave. You want to be right about the answer you think he’ll give you. You chew the inside of your cheek.

“Because of the bet?”

Soonyoung doesn’t answer for a moment. “I guess.”

Coward.

“Why are we whispering?” Joshua asks, leaning across Soonyoung towards you. “Are we gossiping?”

Soonyoung pushes him off. “Butt out.”

“Just telling Soonyoung that I’ve never had an army of drunk guys rooting for me before,” you say.

“Could have had it sooner if you came to a party,” Seungcheol says.

“You really want me at a party that bad? We just met.”

Seungcheol glances at Soonyoung, who shakes his head. He sighs. “If only I could tell you why you need to come.”

You frown between the three men. “I don’t like when people talk in circles over me.”

“Just promise you’ll come to the Christmas party. It’ll all make sense then,” Seungcheol says. You’ve heard a lot about Seungcheol from Soonyoung, and the more you listen to him, the more you believe it. He’s a strange man.

“I’ll think about making an appearance.”

“Really?” Soonyoung whips around to face you and you know that you have to come now. You haven’t seen him this excited since you let him skip studying to party. No, he’s even more excited now. “You’ll come?”

You can’t stand his gaze so you study the placemats. “Maybe.”

He grabs your hand until you meet his eyes. “Please?”

The Soonyoung Sparkle. You never win against it. “Fine.”

“Get a room,” Joshua says behind a very fake cough. You pull your hand back into your lap and pretend like you aren’t embarrassed.

“How long now?” You shout out.

“40 minutes,” someone answers. You groan and lean back into the sofa. Studying was hard enough but waiting makes you want to pull out each individual hair on your head. You stare at the ceiling, trying to decide if the stain looks more like a horse or a flower.

“Look at this.” Soonyoung passes his phone in front of you, forcing you to look down. His Instagram is open to a picture of a kitten looking drunk, face covered in milk. Such and obvious attempt to distract you but you smile anyway.

“Sweet,” you say and even you aren’t sure if you mean the cat or Soonyoung. He shows you cat pictures until the food finally arrives (33 minutes to go). You have to wait another five minutes because Soonyoung insists on having a photoshoot, despite your protests that you look like you just woke up (he raises his eyebrows at that). You stop fighting when Joshua makes him cut a piece of the pancake and feed it to you. Chocolate nearly drops in your lap but Soonyoung shoots his hand out at the last second and catches it.

“Okay, can we please just eat,” you say. Joshua and Seungcheol shrug and pretend like they weren’t instigating the pictures and telling you and Soonyoung how to pose.

Soonyoung was right about the bananas and chocolate. Rich and decadent, they’re delicious. When he cuts you a slice and pushes it toward you, you can even forget the countdown to the end of the world. Or, more accurately, the end of the world doesn’t mean anything to you when Soonyoung smiles at you like that.

You eat slowly enough to bring you to the ten minute mark. Fear mixes with the dessert for breakfast in your stomach, twisting it until it threatens to jump out of your throat. Soonyoung takes your hand under the table and holds it. You don’t run away this time.

He holds you to the planet again, keeps you from floating away and disappearing before you can reach the stars. It’s Soonyoung that keeps your heart beating. Always Soonyoung.

Seungcheol and Joshua chat, Soonyoung piping in a few times, but their words don’t reach you. Stuck somewhere between crushed beneath the weight of the world and floating away, you focus on the clock, watching the seconds tick closer and closer.

“Last minute!” Someone behind you finally shouts. Soonyoung squeezes your hand. You pull up the website on your phone and put in your login information and hover over the SUBMIT. At thirty seconds, they start shouting it out.

“Ten!”

“Nine!”

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

“Six!”

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

Half the guys start cheering already, probably forgetting the count down doesn’t mean as much as the results themselves. You hit SUBMIT and watch the little wheel spin around and around and around until it finally refreshes. The number stares back at you, impossible to read right in front of you.

169.

“Congratulations!” Soonyoung shouts, throwing his arms around you and squeezing while you try to comprehend what that means. 169. The number should be all you can think about but Soonyoung holds you, shouting how proud he is, how he always believed in you.

“169!” Seungcheol shouts, miles away from your bubble. You can hear the guys break out into cheers, hear them chanting the number (which turns into 69) but it’s just you and Soonyoung. The world didn’t end and Soonyoung is still by your side.

The rest of the morning is a blur. Every member of the frat insists on congratulating you, which mostly means a lot of hugs, though one of the more drunk guys tried to spin you around on his shoulder. You laugh when you’d usually frown and find your way back to Soonyoung’s side like a magnet.

Maybe it’s the euphoria that gives you courage.

“Hey Soonyoung?”

“Hm?”

You say it before you can think too much. “Maybe just the two of us next time?”

He grins before you can finish speaking. “I’d love that.”

You have the courtesy to let Soonyoung sleep in as much as he wants. You wait for him at Barb’s, trying to figure out how to call this a date.

You’ve seen him a couple times since you got your score back, but you needed to study for finals and he had to make up for missing a lot of frat activities. You’ve only seen him in passing, nothing to fill the Soonyoung shaped hole in your heart. But today that will change. You will celebrate together and you will tell him how you feel. And then… you have no idea.

It’s just Soonyoung there’s nothing to be nervous about. Too bad your body doesn’t agree with you. Every nerve stands at attention, jumping at the bell that rings when the door opens. You don’t worry when Soonyoung doesn’t get to Barb’s by 8:30 like he said he would. Even at 8:45, you aren’t worried.

It’s only at 8:55 that you really start to wonder where he is. Maybe you should have picked him up. Knowing him, there’s a 50% chance he’s lying in a ditch after a failed attempt to recreate an impossible stunt from Fast and Furious. At 9, you call him. Between each silence in the ring, you wait for his voice but it never comes. He uses the automated voicemail, so you don’t even get his voice telling you to leave a message.

The anxiety turns to fear while you wait. The door rings and you see a fluff of bleach blonde hair and jump up. But though you recognize the face, it isn’t Soonyoung.

Chan, one of the younger members of the frat, with Mingyu and a guy whose name you forgot. They all have the same look in their eyes when they see you, far too much like pity.

“You’re YN, right?” Mingyu asks. “You’re supposed to meet Soonyoung?” The two guys with him, easily identifiable as frat members between their unkempt hair and sweatshirts plastered with Greek letters, stop mid conversation and glance at each other.

“Is he okay?” You ask, still standing in the awkward position in the booth.

“He’s got his score back,” Mingyu says.

“We were supposed to–”

“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu says. “It was a 167. You should really talk to him yourself.” He pauses, glancing at his frat brothers but they shrug. “He’s at the house. See if you can talk some sense into him.”

You’re too afraid to ask any other questions so you just watch Mingyu and the other two walk past, and pretend that they aren’t whispering and stealing glances at you.

Going to a frat house was never on your bucket list but your feet travel without guidance. You find yourself in front of a rather nondescript house. No bodies hang out from windows, no one is passed out in the yard. Then again it’s a weekday.

You pause at the door, wondering if you should knock. You tap your hand on the door and it slides open, the latch bolt pushed completely in. You step inside tentatively, peeking around but it’s quiet. You turn the corner to find an open room and Soonyoung sitting on a couch, glass with a bright liquid in his hand. He doesn’t even look at you.

“Are you seriously drunk right now?”

Soonyoung just shrugs, taking another sip from the glass. Even from here you can smell that it’s more tequila than fruit punch.

You shake your head, crossing the room sitting beside him even though he didn’t invite you to sit down. He was considerably cuter the last time you saw him drunk. You’ve gotten used to the power of Soonyoung’s facial expressions, his smiles, his frowns, the way his eyes glaze over when he’s bored, the way they gleam when he daydreams; they’re as precious to you as Soonyoung himself. But his face is a clean slate now, not a smile, not a frown, just a blank stare.

“You know a 167 is still insanely good, right?”

He shakes his head.

“Soonyoung.” He doesn’t look at you, so you grab his drink. Any other day and you would have failed miserably but his alcohol-impaired senses make him slow enough for you to get a hand on the half-empty glass. He glares at you but you don’t yield, tightening your grip and pulling the bottle even harder.

“Let go,” you growl. “Talk to me like a normal human.”

He shakes his head, pulling on the glass so you yank back, except you overestimate how weak he is like this, and the glass flies out of his hand, the contents spilling all over you. The red liquid sinks into your blue sweater, soaking you through all three layers.

“What the hell?” Soonyoung says.

“That gets your fucking attention? Spilling your drink?” You say. “You know, I really thought you were different.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re acting like a child. So you didn’t win the bet. Who fucking cares? Do you know how hard it is to get higher than a 160? Soonyoung, you are smart, and you worked so hard for this. You could go to law school with that score. You could graduate above a 2.3 if you stopped acting like a stereotypical fuck bro and actually studied.

“You know, you could actually be something if you wanted. You don’t have to get a degree and work at a corporate job that sucks your soul away until the Soonyoung that actually matters is gone. I know it’s easier this way, but if you actually tried to dream, you could do something. I don’t get it, honestly. Because everyone thinks you’re an idiot you act like one? Is that what it is?”

“You don’t have to pretend like you don’t think the same thing.”

You snort. “I don’t, but clearly you won’t believe me. You think that if you have to work for something then it’s not worth it when you could be so much more.”

“Why do you even care?” Soonyoung asks, looking you in the eyes for the first time. For a moment, you think you might actually be wrong, because all you see in his eyes is pain. A physical force that constricts your heart and makes you weak in the knees, Soonyoung looks at you like he’s been fighting a war you never knew about, like he’s been suffering in silence for a lifetime. He looks at you like you’ve broken his heart.

Why do I care? You could scoff. Because I’ve been in love with you ever since you fell asleep on my shoulder. I’ve been fighting this stupid crush for so long that I don’t know who I am without it. I don’t know who I am without you. I care because every day the world proves that we aren’t worthy of this planet, that love can’t solve all problems yet you make me question it all. You don’t just bring light into my life, you make it glitter. And I can’t tell you any of this.

“I don’t know.” The lie tastes bitter but it’s still sweeter than rejection.

“Then why are you here?” Soonyoung looks away. Without his eyes pinning you down, you can breathe again, but every inhale still drags against your heart. You stand up. Afterall, you don’t have an answer for him.

“I take it back. You are an idiot,” you mutter over his head as you walk past him. You make it to the corner of the street before the tears finally spill over your cheeks, and all the way back to your room before you can’t breathe.

Without the distraction of finals, you are left with your own thoughts, your words and Soonyoung’s floating around your head. You have always been something of a hermit but you’ve become J.D. Salinger himself, only leaving your room to sneak into the kitchen and scrounge for scraps of junk food that Jihoon hasn’t thrown away yet. You watch so much reality TV that you start to dream about it.

Every episode the people, a family living on a homestead that just happens to dress in brand name clothes and drive a Benz, fight and cry and make up. You yell at the mother when she forces her daughter to change because she didn’t think polka dots are appropriate and cry along with the daughter when she starts to sniffle in her confessional, wondering if her mother would ever approve of her choices, whether it was clothes or the people she wants to date.

You bet your confessional would be a hit if it was ever filmed. Tears run down your cheeks as you practice it in the mirror, choking out an apology for calling him an idiot and telling the whole world what you aren’t brave enough to tell him.

Jun calls but you can’t answer. He leaves three voicemails: an apology, a goofy one telling you he’ll be back soon, and a final one, yelling at you to pick up or at least let him know you’re alive. You text him an apology you don’t know if you mean. He says thank you anyway and doesn’t call again.

You have no plans to change your schedule (wake up, steal food, cry, sleep) but on the third day you run out of goldfish and can’t find anything in the kitchen that doesn’t make you nauseous. To make matters worse, despite the fact that it’s seven in the morning (the earliest you’ve woken up since the Fight), Jihoon catches you.

You’ve successfully avoided him and his inevitable lecture, slamming your door shut and ignoring his knocks but he catches you off guard today. He sneaks in from his morning workout wearing a black t-shirt and slides that he somehow manages to walk stealthily in, scaring you when you close the fridge and find him standing where the door was.

“Are you done hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” you mutter.

He folds his arms.

“Fine,” you say. “I’m not done hiding.”

“Well too fucking bad,” Jihoon says. You try to step past him but he holds his arm out. You’ll never beat him in a physical fight so you step back, shaking your head.

“Have it your way. Go ahead.” You wave your hand. “Get it all out. Yell at me or lecture me or whatever, I don’t care. You’re going to tell me that I’m an idiot? That I shouldn’t be so afraid of rejection, that I’m blind to how he feels?

“Or are you going to tell me that I shouldn’t trust someone like him? That I shouldn’t be crying over a goddamn frat boy, I’m better than this, I’m better than him.” You choke back a sob, not sure what words are coming out anymore. You wipe at the tears in your eyes and are so focused on trying not to cry that you don’t notice Jihoon walking away. You do see him come back, blurry shape coming into focus as you blink away the tears. He holds something in his hand, a navy blue square. A throw pillow from the couch?

He shifts it in his hand until he holds the corner with the zipper, swinging it a couple times back and forth. Then he yanks his arm back and arcs the pillow in a wide loop, landing directly on your head.

“Ow!” You cry but Jihoon just swings again, hitting your arm this time. He hits you so hard it knocks you off balance, sending you to the floor. Jihoon doesn’t hesitate, swinging the pillow into you again and again, every inch of you.

“You. Are. An. Idiot.” He grunts out each word with a blow. “You really think you’re better than him?”

He finally pauses, not even breathing heavily. You shake your head to answer him. “Of course not.”

“Good,” he says. Then he hits you again and again and again.

“Ow, Jihoon, what the hell?” You bury your head in your knees and hold your arms over you, trying in vain to protect yourself.

“I’m not your babysitter,” he says. “I’m not your father, or your brother, or any of that shit. I’m your best friend and you’re being an idiot and I’m not going to stop hitting you until you get some sense knocked into you.” He freezes, as if realizing exactly what he said. “Wait, no–that’s not what I mean, shit, sorry, but–”

You peek out from your arms and find Jihoon opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out what to say. He looks like a fish out of water, and it occurs to you he is a fish out of water. He’s never had to comfort you before, probably never had to comfort anyone. No wonder he’s so bad at it.

You wouldn’t laugh at him and borderline abuse, but your emotions are beyond fried, and he just looks so funny standing over you with a pillow raised, still sputtering half apologies. You try to stop the laugh before it comes out but it turns into a snort and then you can’t stop laughing, tears that you tried to push back falling freely. You lay back on the floor and laugh until your sides hurt, only vaguely aware of Jihoon laughing above you. Eventually he joins you on the floor.

“You know what I meant,” he says. The pillow rests on the floor between his legs, all the fluff on the far end from the one-sided pillow fight.

“I knew what you meant without the pillow.”

“Too bad,” Jihoon says. “I’m tired of listening to the theme song of that god awful show. You could at least watch something like–”

“I swear if you bring up an anime, you’ll feel exactly how hard that pillow can hit.”

Jihoon laughs, patting it a couple times. “I saw him the other day. He looked tired.” He pauses but you don’t dare speak. “We didn’t speak. I don’t even think he saw me. But it doesn’t matter because I’m not the one he needs to talk to.”

“I know,” you say.

“Then why are you still on the floor?”

Because you’re scared. Because it would be easier to just give up now, for once to ignore putting in the hard work and just let it pass. But just because it’s the easy option doesn’t mean it’s the right option. At the very least you need to apologize to him.

“What if he hates me?”

Jihoon snorts. “Then he’ll get some pillow violence too.” He pauses. “He doesn’t, though.”

“It doesn’t mean that it will turn out okay.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Jihoon says. “But no matter what happens, you’ll deal with it. And even if it absolutely sucks in the moment, eventually it will be over, and it sure as hell will be better than that stupid fucking show.”

You nod, setting your chin on your knees. Your stomach turns in anticipation for what you will have to do, but he’s right. It’s time to stop running. Tonight is the Christmas party, and you were never formally uninvited. Somehow you doubt Seungcheol will throw you out. It’s time to get off the floor and get ready.

“Have you ever thought of being a life coach?”

“Hell no.”

What am I doing here? You fake a smile at Seungcheol and swallow the shot as fast as you can, grimacing as the vodka burns everything from the inside of your mouth to the depths of your stomach. You should have just stuck to your mixed drink only policy but Soonyoung always has you breaking your rules. Even when he isn’t with you.

Seungcheol disappears as soon as you take the drink, and you don't see anyone else you are comfortable enough to chat with, though that list is quite short. You do a turn of the house, which looks marginally better than the last time you saw it ,the benefit of bad lighting. It’s already crowded with more people than you’ve ever seen on campus. You make your way through each room on the lower floor, finding more than a couple bleach blondes. None are who you’re looking for. You stop in the living room, where you saw him last.

“He isn’t here.” You turn at the voice. An unfamiliar boy stands next to you, holding a half-empty Smirnoff Ice. “He went to visit family or something.” He pauses, looking you up and down. “At least that’s what he said.”

You nod. You find it doesn’t surprise you that he seems to know who you are. You suppose you’ve grown used to it, just one of the side-effects of being close with Soonyoung. Though it’s still strange, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable anymore. Or it wouldn’t, if you didn’t think this stranger is implying that it’s your fault Soonyoung isn’t at the ‘Party of the Year.’

You can’t stand his gaze so you make your way back towards the drinks, grabbing the first bottle you could find and chugging half of the lukewarm drink. It tastes like a fruit you can’t recognize and carbonation and the more you drink the harder it is to swallow but you force it down.

You came to apologize. He isn’t here, so why do you stay? Because you promised him? Do you really miss him that much? That you would come here and suffer through all this chaos, just for the memory of him? It doesn’t make any sense but you think that might be a side effect of the alcohol. You get another drink just in case you’re still sober.

Your head pounds, the aching feeling of the stage between drunk and sober. Normally you’d like to be sound asleep by now, or at least in the comfort of your home, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. It’s hot and sweaty, the music is way too loud, and you can’t find water anywhere, but you stay anyway, because you’re an idiot that fell in love.

You curl up on the couch, opposite of a couple making out as if the room isn’t full of people, waiting for just a glimpse of him that will never appear. Even drunk, you think it’s pitiful, but you can’t stop.

You didn’t think you could fall asleep in all the noise but you open your eyes when you feel the world tilt sideways. You’re vaguely aware of the arms underneath your legs and back, cradling you against someone’s chest. No, not just someone.

Because you aren’t enough of an idiot, you can tell it’s him, his sweet scent, maybe even just his arms. Soonyoung carries you out of the living room and up the stairs, the blaring music fading only slightly.

“I thought you weren’t here,” you mumble.

Soonyoung frowns down at you. “You okay?”

You shake your head, suddenly realizing there are tears in your eyes. No, I’m not okay, I love you, you want to say. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to hug you while still carrying you.

With your head resting against his chest, you can fully appreciate his beauty. His hair is black, which suits him even though he looks nothing like your Soonyoung anymore. You reach up and trace the lines of his face that are unchanging, the sharp straight line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his nose, his soft eyebrows. You drop your hand when you realize he’s staring at you, belatedly realizing you never got to his lips. You can only imagine how soft they’d be, soft like Soonyoung himself.

“You’re crying,” Soonyoung says softly. You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or not. He pauses in front of a door, struggling to open it without dropping you. Finally the door swings open and he sets you down on a bed, taking a deep breath and sitting beside you.

He brushes the tears from your eyes, as Soonyoung as ever. Sweet as ever. Sweet and Soonyoung. They should be the same word. You make a mental note to email Merriam-Webster’s dictionary and make the suggestion.

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, just watching you with those perfect eyes. His hand rests on your face even though the tears are long gone, thumb tracing shapes on your cheek.

“You swore you’d do anything for me,” you say.

“Anything,” Soonyoung repeats.

You turn to the walls, knocking his hand off your cheek, not daring to look him in the eyes. Even drunk, you are a coward. He’s put up pictures on his wall, a couple Polaroids but mostly printed pictures, with the frat, some childhood pictures, and one that you recognize. The picture of the two of you at the beach that you thought you didn’t send, where you are looking at him with all the love in your heart. You trace his smile, blinding even in paper form.

“Could you maybe try loving me back then?” You mumble. Your eyes feel heavy between the alcohol and the tears and you’ve said what you needed to say, so you let them take over, closing your eyes and letting the blasting music from downstairs drown out any thoughts. And because it’s so loud and you’ve already drifted off to sleep, there’s no way you could hear his answer.

“I already do.”

The first thing you do when you wake up is throw up. You make it out of the bed but not to the bathroom, mostly because you don’t actually know where it is. You grab the nearest bucket-shaped item, which happens to be a mostly empty trash can. You lean away as soon as you’re done, breathing through your mouth and looking away from the mess. Belatedly, you realize someone is patting your back, brushing hair out of your face.

“Better?” Soonyoung asks. His knees rests against your lower back, one hand resting on your back, the other caressing your face. Thank god you already threw up because looking at him makes your stomach twist again and if there was anything in you, it would come up again. If you could throw up your heart, you would. As it is, the organ is trying to climb its way up your throat, whether it’s guilt or heartbreak you don’t know.

You nod in answer to his question, letting him help you up. Your head pounds and though you know you won’t throw up again, your stomach flips. Right, your policy of mixed drinks is definitely reinstated after this.

“Sorry I threw up in your trash can,” you say.

“Believe me, that is not the worst that trash can has seen,” Soonyoung says. “Wait, that sounds bad, I didn’t mean it in a weird way, I just mean–” He stops himself, shaking his head. “It’s a frat house.”

“It’s your room,” you say softly. With sober (albeit heavily hungover) eyes, you take in the room again. It’s tiny, one bed pushed against a wall with a desk set right next to it. Unsurprisingly, it’s stacked with protein powder and a pile of frat flyers, laptop balancing off the edge, not a paper in sight. Except for the one next to his bed, the walls are bare, an ugly shade of beige except for a circle filled with white plaster that looks suspiciously like the reformed crime scene of a fist going through drywall. It must be from whoever owned the room before Soonyoung.

The wall next to his bed is covered in pictures. You remember being amazed by them last night. Your eyes zero in on the picture of the two of you, right next to the pillow that’s still dented from your head.

“Did I steal your bed?” You frown except the movement hurts your head.

“I slept in Johnny’s room since he’s decided to disappear off the face of the planet instead of accepting the fact that he graduates next semester,” Soonyoung says. “I actually just came in here for some clothes, which reminds me.” He rummages through a drawer, pulling out a wrinkled t-shirt and handing it to you. “If you want a change.”

You glance down and feel like throwing up all over again. Your favorite shirt is covered in stains, alcohol, vomit, and something you definitely don’t want to name. If you weren’t feeling so terrible already, you’d cry that Soonyoung is seeing you like this.

“I’ll get you a toothbrush, too,” he mutters, disappearing and leaving you to scramble to switch shirts. The white dri-fit is meant to be a workout shirt, though it’s clear that it would be oversize on Soonyoung. Either way, the soft fabric is gentle on your skin, much better than the jeans you slept in. Too bad you’re stuck in them until you get back to your apartment.

You could run away right now. Soonyoung probably wouldn’t be surprised. But he’s being nice to you, so much nicer than you deserve. Sweet and Soonyoung. But you came here to apologize, and though last night got derailed, you can’t keep running from it. Besides, it’s not like the morning can get much worse.

So when Soonyoung comes back proudly brandishing an unopened toothbrush that he may or may not have stolen from Seungcheol’s bathroom, you accept it gratefully. You stare yourself down in the bathroom, fighting nausea and an impending migraine because you have a mission to achieve, a real mission unlike last night. It’s still a haze, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget how gently Soonyoung cradled you against his chest, the brush of his fingers on your cheek. If he didn’t show up this morning, you’d think it was a dream.

Soonyoung’s door is open when you finish but he isn’t in his room. You grab your bag from the floor and venture down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. There’s a couple people passed out in the living room, and one person snoring softly in the kitchen, head folded in his arms in a position that must be incredibly painful for his neck. But it’s where you find Soonyoung, digging through the fridge and finally pulling out a water bottle. He hands it to you, along with a bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” you sigh, not even bothering to check the label for the brand. You take a couple and chug half the bottle, gaslighting yourself into believing that it will instantly revive you (it doesn’t work and your head still pounds).

“Are you hungry?” Soonyoung asks. He opens the fridge again, this time wide enough to show the shelves that are filled with beer, vodka, and White Claws. There’s a pizza box and some eggs, but not much else.

“How are any of you alive?” You ask softly, glancing at the snoring person on the counter.

“Yuta can sleep through an apocalypse, don’t worry about him,” Soonyoung says, waving his hand. He closes the fridge, leaning against it. “And most of us keep our actual food in mini-fridges. I just cleared mine out for break, so I don’t have anything in it.” He doesn’t say anything else about vanishing.

“I’m pretty sure that pizza has been in there since the start of the semester and I’ve never seen eggs in here before though, so I don’t think you should risk any of this,” Soonyoung says. “McDonald’s fries are a far superior hangover cure, they’ve never failed me.”

“There’s a McDonald’s nearby?”

Soonyoung grins, pulling keys out of his pocket and spinning them around his fingers a couple times, except they fly off and clatter on the floor. The man asleep on the counter, Yuta apparently, stirs but doesn’t move. You can’t help but smile as Soonyoung scrambles to retrieve them from the floor. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flustered.

“There isn’t one,” Soonyoung explains, leading the way to the door. “But I have the keys to Seungcheol’s car.”

“I’m not really comfortable with grand theft auto,” you say, though you don’t stop following him to Seungcheol’s giant white Jeep.

“He gave me the keys last night when I walked in,” Soonyoung says. “Something about owing me. He was pretty drunk.” He darts around to the passenger side before you can, opening the door for you. He waves his hand when you frown at him, as if you’re the one acting strange. Thinking with this headache is too hard so you just get into the car and strap the seatbelt on.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d steal a car,” Soonyoung says. He turns the engine on and scans the front of the car before finally settling his right hand on the gear shift.

“You have driven this car before, right?”

“Of course,” Soonyoung says a little too fast. You grab onto the door handle and hope that your stomach really is empty.

Soonyoung’s driving isn’t the worst you’ve ever experienced; that title goes to Jihoon, who was banned from touching car keys after his Mario Kart driving. That said, you think he’s a good second place. He slams on the gas and the brakes too hard and drives altogether too fast. He blasts the radio and sings along purposefully off key. You should be terrified but it’s the most fun you’ve ever had riding in the passenger seat.

“I’m never riding with you again,” you say, breathless from laughing. He pulls to a stop at the red light, the Golden arches of your destination still one light away. “You know yellow lights mean slow down right?”

“I stopped at this one!” Soonyoung says. “I’ll have you know I haven’t been in an accident.” He pauses. “Since I was nineteen.”

You nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from smiling fully. “That’s what I figured.” You peek at Soonyoung and he’s smiling too.

So different from the last time you saw him. You don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t be able to laugh and joke around with him so easily, not when you still haven’t apologized. And Soonyoung shouldn’t be looking at you like that, genuine fondness in his eyes.

“The light’s green,” you say. His smile fades a little when he turns his head and drives ahead, stepping lightly for once. You’re so close now, but a car going straight in the right lane prevents him from turning.

The pain medicine must have kicked in because your headache is slowly fading, replaced by heartache that no medication can cure.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You blurt out.

The blinker beeps a steady rhythm in the empty silence. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Nothing’s ever obvious with you, Soonyoung,” you say softly.

“Oh.” The light turns green and he guides the car slowly into the parking lot, stopping in a spot instead of pulling up to the drive through. As soon as the car is in park, he turns to face you. There’s a crease in his forehead that you recognize from the rare occasions that he would actually talk to you seriously. “YN, I genuinely thought I was being clear about this from the beginning, but if you still really don’t get it, then I’ll say it straight up: I like you. I’ve liked you since the day we met and then I fell in love with you.

“Did you know you’re the first person that’s ever genuinely believed in me? I mean, I know I have friends, and my family means well, but they always get this look in their eye whenever I talk about trying for things, like it was cute that I was trying, but they never actually believed in me. And I started to believe them too. I started to believe that I couldn’t believe in myself.” He frowns. “That makes no sense. The point is, you are the reason I started to believe in myself again.

“No one’s ever looked at me like you do. No one’s ever told me to get my shit together–well, they have, but you’re the only one that told me it was because I could be better.

“You say it wasn’t obvious, but I’ve tried to tell you a thousand times. I flirted, I tried to ask you on a date so many times, and I finally accepted that you’d never see me like that, so I was a dick. I told you off, even though you were right. I’m so sorry for that, and I’m sorry I ran away, and I’m sorry it took me so long to apologize.”

“Stop,” you say. Soonyoung’s eyes widen, tears welling up, and you realize he thinks you’re rejecting him. “Stop apologizing!” His brow creases in confusion, an adorable frown. Summoning all your courage, you reach out, resting your hand on his. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t have any right to judge you and the choices you were making, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you when I knew how much the bet meant to you.”

You squeeze his hand, closing your eyes. “And I think I was a little oblivious on purpose. I’m not the kind of person that has crushes, let alone crushes that like me back, so I freaked a little and missed all the signs.” You open your eyes and grin at him. It’s easy to feel brave when he smiles back at you. “But I like you, Soonyoung. I like you so much, I don’t have enough words to express it. My whole life has been about my future, my career, and it’s exhausting, but being with you makes it all exciting again. Like, no matter what happens, if you’re with me, it won’t just be okay, it’ll be fun.”

Soonyoung beams. “Really?”

You squeeze his hand. “I like you.” Like the first time you took the LSAT, you can’t think of a single word, except instead of damning your future this feels like the start of it. Soonyoung sits across from you and you don’t need words.

You don’t know how long you sit there, but reality sets in when your stomach growls. You glance outside the window and remember where you are. “Did you just confess to me in a McDonald’s parking lot?”

“Better than drunk in my own bed.”

“I didn’t!” You let go of his hand to hide your face.

Soonyoung grins. “You were cute!”

“I don’t remember it, it doesn't count!”

“Whatever you say,” Soonyoung says, leaning over the center console. He gently pulls your hands away from your face, hand circling your wrist gently. You instinctively hold your breath, though you don’t lean away. Soonyoung leans a little closer, forehead resting against yours.

“This okay?” He whispers, breath kissing your lips, and you remember that less than an hour ago, you were throwing up. Your head still aches and your stomach is still queasy and your whole body feels disgusting.

“We are not having our first kiss in a McDonald’s parking lot,” you say, leaning back. Soonyoung sighs, but he sits back in his chair, settling for grabbing your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours.

“Fine,” Soonyoung says. He rubs his thumb back and forth, and when you meet his eyes, you see a familiar glint of trouble. “You know I’m still sworn to you. Whatever you want.”

The words go straight to your heart. You could live a thousand lives and never meet someone as genuine as Soonyoung. You know that he means it, heart and soul, that he’d do anything for you. And it should be terrifying that he’s willing to bear his heart for you, that you are willing to do the same. But it’s Soonyoung. It’s easy to trust him with it, because even though he breaks half the computers he touches and can’t hold onto a pencil for his life, he won’t ever drop your heart.

I love you. One day you’ll be able to say it, one day you’ll scream it like you so desperately want to. But until then, you settle for his certified brilliant smile and the gentle brush of his lips on the back of your hand, only letting go to turn the engine back on.

“Let’s get you some fries,” he says. “Then kisses?”

You shake your head and laugh, slipping your hand back into his.

Before he can put the car into gear, his phone rings. He stares at the screen for a moment, frowning like he can’t decide whether he should answer it or not. Finally he slides the green across, turning on speaker.

“Hey Seungcheol, I’m with—”

“Where the hell are you? And where is my car?” Seungcheol’s voice is somewhere between angry and concerned. “You think it’s okay to vanish and then show up only to steal my car?”

“First of all, you gave me the keys,” Soonyoung says. He glances at you. “And I’m at McDonald’s because YN desperately needed a hangover cure.”

“Hey,” you say so Seungcheol knows you’re there.

The line is quiet for so long you think Soonyoung’s phone has finally given up on him but eventually he says, “You’re with YN?”

“We talked,” he says. “And we’re good.”

You snort. “That’s how you’re going to describe it?”

“Are we not good?”

You glance at your hand still intertwined with his, the Soonyoung Sparkle glittering back at you when you look him in the eyes. Good? There’s not a word to describe how you feel right now.

“We are beyond good.”

“Are you crying?” You whisper. Soonyoung shakes his head, chin brushing against your head but when he inhales again, he sniffles. You reach up to pat his cheek and are entirely unsurprised when it’s wet. On screen Elle Woods continues her speech, for once not wearing pink.

“She’s just so cool,” Soonyoung says. You lift your head off his chest so you can look him in the eyes. The temptation to tease him is hard to resist but he pouts his lips and you see another tear slip out. You kiss his cheek, out of habit more than anything. Strange how much can change in two weeks, how something you’ve never imagined doing has become natural. But being with Soonyoung is just like that. New and old at the same time, the kind of comfort that has you planning how to make this last a lifetime.

Soonyoung wraps his arms around you tighter, so you nestle back into his chest, turning away from the end of the movie to close your eyes and breathe in his cologne.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck. “The whole bet was based on a movie you haven’t seen.”

“You’re missing the end,” he says. His voice rumbles in your ear, drowning out his heartbeat.

“I’ve seen it before.” Your bed really isn’t built for two people to lay down together. You are laying more on Soonyoung than the mattress but it’s not the first time. From the way he holds you, you doubt it’ll be the last.

The credits roll too quickly, but Soonyoung still doesn’t let go. He pulls you up so that your head is next to his, nose centimeters away from yours.

“So am I officially qualified to go to law school?” He asks.

“You are Elle Woods certified,” you say. “But you’re sure that’s what you want?”

“I mean I have to get in. But I figure if I’m going to waste away at a desk, I might as well do it for something I believe in.” He pauses. “With someone that believes in me.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, breath tickling the sensitive skin. You can’t help but sigh.

“That doesn’t mean it’s what you want,” you say, after several heartbeats of struggling to think.

“I want…” His words “To be with you. However you’ll have me.” His arms loosen, hands sliding down to your waist.

“Still not answering the question,” you breathe out but you can’t even remember what the question is, not when he’s shifting to lay on top of you, lips inching their way up your neck. He kisses your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips, then stops, pulling away and meeting your eyes again.

The Soonyoung Sparkle. The grinch has nothing on you–your heart swells so large it feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest–Alien style. Does he know what he does to you? How he’s made everything in your life shine? How happy you are when he’s with you?

“I love you,” you whisper.

Soonyoung blinks at you. “You…”

“I love you,” you say again, this time with more confidence. “I really, really love you.”

Soonyoung grins, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, moving like the world outside has stopped. He makes a bubble around you again, or maybe it’s your own heart; either way the only thing that exists is the way his hands inch up your shirt, the way his lips begin to press harder against yours. You give up on coherent thoughts, settling for wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“I love you, too,” Soonyoung whispers between kisses. “If that wasn’t obvious.”

Soonyoung who always treated you like you were enough already. Soonyoung who does everything with 100% of his heart. Soonyoung who has always been sincere with you, from the first day you met him. Soonyoung, who you are so lucky to be loved by.

You don’t know how to say any of this in a way that makes sense so you let his fire melt you until you are putty in his arms. He pulls away, and the Soonyoung Sparkle burns, your personal stars flickering back at you.

“You want to–” Soonyoung starts to say, but the door slams open. Then Soonyoung falls on you, pillow rolling off his head.

“I’m taking this back!” Someone shouts while you hear Jihoon cursing.

“Read the room, idiot!” Soonyoung pushes off of you, sitting up and pulling your shirt down as smoothly as he can. You sit up, trying to decide if you should be embarrassed or angry. Facing Jun, frozen midstep with his jaw hanging open a little and Jihoon in the doorway with his arms folded, shaking his head slightly, you opt for the latter.

“Does no one knock in Colombia?” You frown at him. “And when did you get back? Why didn’t you call?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he mumbles, staring at his feet. “And you were supposed to be alone, according to my sources.” He glares at Jihoon.

“YN didn’t say he was coming over,” he says with a shrug.

You turn your frown to him. “You walked in halfway through the movie, I literally shouted ‘Soonyoung’s over.’”

“I had my headphones on,” he says, though he’s avoiding your eyes too. Typical of your friends, never claiming responsibility for their actions.

“So this is Soonyoung,” Jun says, turning to face him. Soonyoung moved to the edge of the bed, too far away for your taste but probably an appropriate distance for your friends, especially compared to what they walked in on. Jun tilts his head. “You dyed your hair.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung scratches the back of his head. “Spur of the moment thing.” You miss the blonde, surprisingly fitting considering it isn’t his natural color. But the black suits him too, and probably will help him with law school interviews. Then again, knowing Soonyoung, this color won’t last long either. Good thing there isn’t a color you don’t think suits him.

“We should do this properly,” Soonyoung says. “Go out for dinner or something.”

“Hey, I didn’t get dinner,” Jihoon says.

“You want to get dinner with me?” Soonyoung perks up.

“No, I’m protesting unfair treatment.”

“It’s not unfair, I’m just clearly his favorite,” Jun says.

“Can you guys stop fighting over my boyfriend?” You say.

Jihoon and Jun stare at you. When Soonyoung turns to face you, he grins, eyes sparkling.

“What?”

“You just called him your boyfriend,” Jun says.

“Well… he is.” You feel your cheeks flush. “Why are you guys making it weird?”

“It’s not weird,” Soonyoung says. He scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s cute,” he whispers in your ear. “Adorable.” This only makes you flush even more.

“Well, I don’t want to interrupt, so I’ll just grab this and you two can get back to… whatever.” Jun takes a step towards your bookcase. You grab the pillow that he threw at Soonyoung and nail him in the chest, earning a laugh from Jihoon.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“The book is mine, Soonyoung never fulfilled the bet!” Jun says. You stand up, blocking him from your Pride and Prejudice.

“Hey, I followed through!” Soonyoung says. “We’re dating!”

“I remember the bet stating that you had to ask YN out after you took the LSAT.” Jun turns to him.

“And I did,” Soonyoung says. “You never said it had to be right after.”

Jun eyes him. “That’s cheating.”

“That’s being a lawyer,” you say. “And I think he’s going to be really good at it.”

Jun glances between you and Soonyoung and shakes his head. “Whatever, I’ll get my book back another day.”

You step closer to Soonyoung and he links his pinky with yours. You glance at your friends. “Are you going to stand there forever or are we getting dinner?”

“You two don’t want to get back to what you were doing?” Jihoon asks.

You slip your hand into Soonyoung’s. He meets your eyes and he’s only been your boyfriend for two weeks but looking at him is like looking home. There’s no need to rush.

“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to pick where we go.”

“We should make them pay, too,” Soonyoung says.

You grin at him. “You are the smartest person I know.”

#🌟 stars galaxy #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #svt reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fluff #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #svt hoshi #soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #soonyoung fluff #hoshi angst #soonyoung angst #soonyoung #svt x reader

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gyuswhore · 1 year

Text

The thing about love;

Hoshi (k.s.y) x reader; university!au (ft. Jeonghan x OC)

genre: fluff, angst, humour, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, corny jokes, slapping (apologies are given), yelling, alcohol, shitty friends, kind of a mean girl thing (not reader), broken friendships, heavy emotions (at certain points), reader in denial (lmk if there's anything else)

25.3k words (I will better myself)

masterlist

excerpt: The slap you sent across Kwon Soonyoung’s face sent a reverberating sound across the dance studio.

He looks up, eyes bloodshot and swimming with fury. There’s a hint of a smile on his face for some reason, which you realize may be out of disbelief.

You don’t register anything else other than the rage that accelerates down your own veins. There’s a part of you that wants to do it again when he utters his next words.

“That was a bad fucking idea”

(A/N): FINALLY it's here. Tysm for clicking on this I love y'all tons for the support on all my other work, I hope this one makes the mark too! This reflects more of my personal situations more than you’d think, broken friendships that you'd never imagine to lose hurt like a bitch and I’m so sorry if you’ve gone through this too. Hopefully, Hoshi can give you some solace <3

***

“No” had become your response to a lot of people ever since they started finding out you were best friends with Jennie.

You loved her, a lot, but not that much when people in your classes that you’ve never spoken to before would come up to ask for her number under the pretense of asking for notes.

Jennie was gorgeous. She was gorgeous in elementary school, never had an awkward middle school phase, and was classified as stunning all throughout high school. It was a bit unbelievable, but having seen it all, it was common knowledge for you. While she was naturally very pretty, Jennie always knew how to carry herself. She realized what she had to do to look presentable when most pre-teens like her, absolutely did not. This was confidence that she’d built for years.

At an age where everyone is trying to find themselves, Jennie had herself all figured out.

You were denying another poor lover in the library, knowing he was cussing you out in his head for wasting his time. This one lasted longer though, you had almost 3 separate study sessions before he popped the question.

Honestly, you really can’t complain too much. It was nice having a study partner that sacrificed their wants for your own conditions and preferences - you hated when people spoke to you before the timer went off, Jennie doesn’t get that. You see it coming, after 3 years, of course you do, but you let it happen because there was really no way to deflect them when there was no obvious giveaway to the general individual, and you got use out of it, so you let it be.

Besides, it got significantly easier by your second year, when you finally had a reason for your “no” that actually made them shut up.

“She has a boyfriend”

His face kind of falls, but you knew you weren’t telling him any information he didn’t know. But he tried anyway, and you can respect that.

Jennie started dating Kwon Soonyoung of the dance team at the beginning of her second year at university. He was fine, you meet him a lot during frat parties and other meet-ups; you’d classify him as a friend but that was it really. His friends called him Hoshi (Jennie hated that name for some reason), he liked tigers (?) and he liked to dance. So much so that he was the pride of not just the dance team, but the university as a whole too. A micro-celebrity? You aren’t entirely sure, but you do know that he’s popular as fuck.

You decide to call it a day after watching the grumbly soul struggle through another 50 minutes of discreet math after his indirect rejection during your scheduled breaks. He’s quick to leave with a half smile; he won’t be texting you for too long after this.

You pack up to leave too, but not before grabbing Americano’s for both you and Jennie like she texted you a couple hours ago. You’re about to walk across the street to get to your dorm building when you hear a yell for your name along the pavement.

It’s Jennie running towards you at full speed. You turn to her in a panic trying to signal her to slow down, knowing what she was planning on doing.

“Jennie- JENNIE! I’m holding DRINKS, PLEASE”,

She doesn’t care as she continues to barrel towards you faster, forcing you to jump out of the way when she gets close enough so you don’t spill coffee all over your white zip up.

She tries to stop before she hits the banner advertising your uni’s IT club, which she does. But not before she drops her bag and herself with it onto the grass from the momentum. She jolts up, annoyed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had drinks in your hand?” she huffs

You look at her in mild shock, “The same drinks you asked me to get you? And what do you mean, I literally yelled at you, you could see them in my hands too”

She pauses before muttering “Whatever, help me up”

You lift your hands and arms full of coffee, a paper bag, and a tote in mock helplessness, “Hands full, sorry chief”

Once she does get up and dusts herself off, she helps you with your load as you cross the street back to your dorm.

Once there, you set everything down before heading in to change into your pajamas for comfort.

“Hey, can I call a raincheck on movie night? Soonie wants to show me the new choreo for comp but he doesn’t get the studio till 9 for like an hour”

You swerve in your socks as you hear her say that; this was the 4th time.

“Jennie, you said that last week! And the week before, and the one before that-"

“I know, I know! But please, you know he can’t run stuff through the team without showing me first” She has her pleading eyes out, she tries to walk towards you to squeeze you, but you dodge her for the second time that hour.

“Fine! Go to your man” you say, hands raised and visibly annoyed. You’re actually walking into your room before you come back out when you hear her start to say something “And don’t promise anything for next week, especially when you know you can’t keep it”

You slam the door a little too hard as you hear a muffled “I’ll make it up to you!” from the other side.

You scoff a little, also knowing that she’s repeated that for the past year and has barely kept to it.

You had hoped her blowing you off every other day for something was a symptom of the honeymoon phase, that she’d grow out of after the first couple months of dating Soonyoung. That couple months grew to more than a year and those two are still seemingly attached to the hip, which would be cute if it didn’t automatically put you on the lower side of the priority list.

It was disrespectful, and you’d never ever put up with it if it was anyone else, but you loved Jennie too much to give her more than a few stern responses. She’d stuck with you through your worst and your best, became a sister in every way but blood. No matter what, there comes a point where you realize you can’t abandon someone who’s become family.

Besides, you’re sure you’ve done (and actively do) multiple things that make her want to bury you 6 feet deep, and she hasn’t done it yet. Give and take?

That doesn’t stop you from pushing your legs into the holes of your pajama shorts any less aggressively though, actively pissed at another blow off. You wash the makeup off your face, scrubbing more aggressively than you should as you dry off to a red and irritated face. You hope the moisturizer helps.

When you come out Jennie’s already gone. It was still only 6 PM, but that wasn’t gonna stop her from jetting off at the first chance. You glance at the table to notice one missing coffee of two and a half a cold croissant.

At least she put it on a plate.

***

Joshua was sprawled out on the loveseat, blanket over his body as you ranted from the adjacent single-seater. You were watching Moana, but Maui’s character was pissing Joshua off for some reason so he turned your attention to a makeshift therapy session instead.

“How many times do you give someone the same, very upset reaction for them to stop continuing to do the same thing the next time? Because it’s really not fun being in a pissy mood for the rest of the day. I’m just tired of having to mentally prepare myself for a ‘hey, sorry’ text for any plan that we make, sometimes while I’m already at the place!”

You started slightly yelling at some point, and Joshua looks quite invested, despite hearing Jennie as a topic for the nth time, so you keep going.

“And I want to blame her boyfriend, but I can’t because, is it not her job to schedule things appropriately? She's a grown ass adult!"

You’re fully yelling now, breathing heavily as a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. You don't talk about Jennie problems with anyone except Joshua and Alyssa. You two were seen as too close-knit for you to be talking like this about her to people who were your close friends, but not enough to trust them to not get the wrong idea and think you're actively bashing her.

Because you're not, at least that's what both Josh and Alyssa tell you at the end of every frustrated ramble. It's guilt you feel, like you're betraying your friend for a petty problem you have with her attitude.

"You know, you'd think another party would be less important than a commitment she's been falling out on for 4 weeks," Joshua states, leaning across the gap between him and the coffee table to grab a handful of trail mix. "As much as I love watching an overgrown man baby sing about his life's achievements, it should be her sitting here not me. And that's something that's past the point of excuses"

"She's not at a party" you grumble, trying to take in Joshua's last bit about excuses.

"Yeah, she is" He retorts.

"How do you know that, fucking campus reporter or something?" you shoot back, annoyed at his certainty.

"You don't follow Hoshi? Or Dino? Or literally anyone from the dance team?"

"Why can't any of these people have normal names? And, yes, I do. I think I follow Jun or Hao or someone, Soonyoung too. Why does it matter?" you’re grumbling now.

"Where did Jennie tell you she went?" Joshua asks, his chewing slowed.

You're looking at him a little wavered now, when you answer.

"At the studio? She said it was at 9, and she should be there right now. Something about Soonyoung wanting to show her a new choreo for comp"

"Comp season ended last week, do even live in this establishment? Hoshi's passionate but even he needs rest, no way he has something cooked up so soon"

You're building a retort before he shoves his phone in your face.

"Besides they're literally at the end-of-season party, right now. The entire team's posting about it and Jennie's in the pictures"

You grab his phone as you see a shaky video of Jennie and her friend Minji dancing to indecipherable music, seemingly having the time of their lives. You're leaning forward, elbows on thighs, as you notice she's wearing the same outfit you last saw her in just a few hours ago.

You regret not touching your phone the entire day.

"Did you really not know? I thought that was why you were so mad"

You're tapping through the endless stories Chan had posted, almost all of them containing either Jennie or Soonyoung. Sometimes both. You only answer when you're done, and it moves to another person's posts.

"No. I didn't know" Your expression is blank, as you process what this meant.

"I think - she was invited too so she wasn't a plus one. She hosts the in-house competitions and everything." Joshua starts cautiously, monitoring your expression.

You know he's only telling you this because you hate not knowing. Anything. You hate being left in the dark.

Jennie knows that better than anyone.

"So, who was her plus one?" you ask, taking a breath and sitting up straight.

He pauses before saying, "I don't know, Minji’s there. I don't think she even knows anyone from the team"

You end up leaning back on the sofa, trying to process this new advancement. The cogs in your brain are pushing to rotate as hard as they can but whatever thought they're trying to pull is sedimented to stay as is.

"She's gonna come home drunk. And maybe bring Soonyoung with her. I really don't wanna be here for that" you say quietly, voicing the realization as it comes to you.

"Fuck that. Come home with me, and shut this stupid movie off" He grabs the remote and turns off the TV. It's completely silent in the room now.

"I can't, I have a meeting in the morning," you say, your voice devoid of any particular emotion.

"It's Saturday tomorrow. What do you mean?"

"Some T.A. thing, I don't know man" you reply.

"Pack an outfit then, grab a toothbrush bring a fucking suitcase, I don't care. You don't need to be seeing her anytime soon. "

You know he's right, you aren't sure what you'll do when you see her. You know she's gonna come home, with Soonyoung or not, she hates his roommates. She fucking hates everyone.

"Go. Pack your stuff, I'm taking you with me. Now. I'll clean up from here"

You push yourself off your seat and launch yourself forward into Joshua's arms. You hugged him for a little bit, trying to gain your bearings, he didn't say a word and just hugged you back.

As you're shoving your stuff into an overnight bag and pulling sweatpants over your shorts, you wonder what you would've done if you found out by yourself and were forced to come face to face with her.

Again, you're not sure what you'd do. But you're afraid the worst thing you probably would've done, was nothing.

***

Seokmin, Joshua's roommate wasn't home when you both got to his place. Which was upsetting because you were starting to count on his presence to make you feel better, as infectious as his optimism is. But you crash on Joshua's bed, nevertheless, trying to decide if you wanted to cry or make dinner.

You chose the latter except Joshua ate nothing but cereal and instant ramen, so you ordered takeout. But by the time the food got here, you had skimmed through your entire timeline for pictures of the end-of-season party, which it seemed like everyone was at.

You didn't care that you weren't invited, you didn't mind a good house party once in a while but it wasn't a regular occurrence for you and you liked it that way. It wasn't some gathering that you were missing right now.

What hurt was that Jennie lied straight to your face. And for seemingly no good reason other than she needed an excuse to get out of hanging out with you. It wasn’t that stuff like this was a rare occurrence, having gone to parties thrown by the dance team themselves multiple times; Jennie even more than that. You knew you weren't disliked by people, nor someone who brought the mood down by just sitting there. People on the team and beyond that were friends with you, if not that then they certainly knew of your existence.

You also knew that there was no excuse she could've given (outside of emergencies) that would not have made you upset, including a supposed private showing of her boyfriend’s prancing dance moves.

Throughout all of this, you found no possible reason why she would feel the need to lie to you, realizing more and more that the chances being within your faults were getting slimmer and slimmer with each passing thought.

You realize she may have been lying the past 4 weeks too if not more than that.

You’re voicing all of this as a train of thought as you eat your food on Joshua's bedroom floor. He's listening to you talk, allowing you to make connections and figure things out for yourself.

"Maybe I've been too insufferable. I don't know why else she'd do something like this"

Joshua scoffs as he picks at his veggies "My ass, it's her that's insufferable, they only ever invite her to stuff out of courtesy for Soonyoung. I guess her MC-ing thing is an added reason but I know for a fact that she's only there at other parties because of him"

He shovels a spoonful of rice in his mouth, "She used up her pretty privileges long ago before people realized how obnoxious she was. I get why you put up with her but honestly, can she stop yelling all the fucking time it's migraine-inducing just thinking about it"

Your interest was piqued when you urged Josh to continue. This was news to you.

"What do you mean? Is she not liked?"

"Let's start with how her mood swings are a nightmare, and she expects everyone to keep up with it and tend to her every last need. She hates it when Mingyu or anyone roasts her for something knowing full well she's said more than enough below-the-belt bullshit straight to his and other people's faces while laughing."

This was so much information. Too much.

"How come-"

"Because you’re her best friend. Why would anyone show you that they have a problem with her? Besides, it's not you that's the problem, it's her. They invite you all the time - they aren't bound to do that - because they want you to be there. Jennie's under the sour impression that it's her influence that brings you there, which is far from the truth"

You've put your utensils down at this point, processing yet another plethora of information.

"How come you didn't tell me about any of this," you ask him quietly.

You knew that Joshua wasn't too fond of Jennie because he believed she was using you too much. But how other people also felt was something you realize you should've figured out by yourself.

"Because you worry too much. That she'd get hurt or somebody might say something to her to put her off. You care too much to the point where you're more worried about her than she is about herself, let alone about you - no I don't wanna hear it, you know I'm right, Y/n"

Assertion was not common to hear with Joshua, so if he was being this stern, there had to be some validity to it that you can't see just yet.

So, you silence yourself and try to think about what this means for you.

"Why do you think she's being so careless right now? She's lying to you and then proceeding to not care that people are posting her. There's no way she doesn't know, she has about ten cameras shoved in her face in almost all of them. The truth of the matter is that she knows you're on her side no matter what, she doesn't have to worry about convincing you"

It's a slap in the face, but one that you know you needed if you were to take any steps going forward.

"Should I talk to her about it tomorrow?" You ask, genuinely not knowing what to do.

"I think it's high time you confront her about this. About everything, really. She's getting too comfortable doing whatever the fuck she wants and that's not how a friendship works, doesn't matter how long you know a person"

You know he's right. But you also know it's gonna be a nightmare trying to bring this up to her. You don't mind confrontation, it's not something you run away from and neither does Jennie. The problem arises in the fact that Jennie is the most defensive person you know, all while under the assumption that she's 'quite understanding' (her words, not yours).

"That's what I think you should do. The rest is up to you"

He's putting responsibility back in your hands, after helping you realize what you owed yourself. You appreciate him for that more than he could imagine, but you wonder if you're ready to deal with the headache that's bound to come when you bring this up with her.

You fluff your pillow about 7 and a half times that night as you try to go to sleep, Joshua long gone before you as he breathes softly on the other side of the pillow barrier you'd erected.

You decide you won't open your eyes anymore as you lie on your right side, facing the door. That doesn't last long as images of Jennie and Soonyoung doing shots play across your mind, frame by frame all thanks to the insta stories you'd rewatched about 50 times despite not wanting to see them at all. You couldn't stop yourself.

"I'll make it up to you!"

You aren't sure how she's gonna rebound from this glorious fuck up, but you hope she does. You still hope there's a missing piece to this story.

***

You managed to pull yourself up for your 9 AM meeting, getting ready while Joshua slept. He wakes up before you leave though, force-feeding you cereal for breakfast when he found out you were about to leave for your day with an empty stomach. He hugs you goodbye at the door, knowing well enough he'll be passing out again once the door closes. You love him for sacrificing his precious z's for your sake.

The meeting goes well and you have lunch with the other T.A. before deciding it's time you go back home. You were dreading it, but it was late afternoon and you really wanted to take a nap. So you walk to the campus cafe and grab yourself a coffee. You realize you ordered two out of habit but figured Jennie would need it for whatever demons she'd be fighting post-hangover.

With that thought you questioned whether you should be confronting her at all in this state. So, for your own sake and hers, you decide you'd put it off until tomorrow. But that was as far as you were pushing it. Just because your head was clearer than it was last night doesn't mean the problems had diffused with it, this was only a deadline you were setting for yourself.

Not sure what you were expecting when you walked in through that door, incessant banging was not what you would’ve guessed to be happening at 3PM. For a wild half a minute you’re frozen in the doorway, slightly mortified that you may have walked into Jennie and Soonyoung during their activities. But as you try to tiptoe past the hallway to put your stuff in the kitchen you look over to see a disheveled Jennie slamming her fist onto your bedroom door repeatedly.

This looks like the same Jennie, a mirror of you after your endless nights at wretched house parties. The ones where you both would drink yourselves to death, only to wake up wanting to scoop your brains out. If you weren’t sure of what she’d done before this, now you definitely did.

It wasn’t an awkward walk-in, but it may have been worse as you notice your handle broken off the door, sitting on the floor.

It takes you a second to register what you’re seeing.

“Jennie? JENNIE?”

She finally looks over to the sound of your voice, visibly agitated, looking like she just rolled out of bed. You rush to put your things down on the table before entering the hall she was standing in.

“You were out? You were out this whole time?” Her face is still slightly puffy, her glasses in, and her hair looking like a rat’s nest. Her tone has a hint of accusation in it, and you feel a twinge of annoyance spring in the back of your mind as you hear it.

“Yes? Why are you banging on my door, did you break the handle?” You ask incredulously.

“Because your door was fucking locked?”, she retorts like it was the most obvious answer for destroying your door.

“So you decide to, what, bust it down?”

“I needed painkillers, you didn’t tell me you were out, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Jennie, the painkillers are in the medicine cabinet in the kitchen, where they’ve always been.” You bend down swiftly to pick up your door handle. “And besides, I don’t need to tell you I was going out, I don’t know why you’d think I would.”

“How long have you been gone?”

Her tone is making your own head hurt.

“Since last night? Why does this matter” You’re getting properly angry now, and it’s not helping that she’s acting like she was wronged for whatever reason.

“Where were you?” She asks sharply.

“Why the fuck-”

“Do not tell me you were over at Joshua’s?” She asks you, stepping back like she was in disbelief. Like she had been betrayed or something.

There was a fire raging inside you by then, your vision flexing for a second before you regained composure, quite literally holding back a punch.

“Seriously, I told you to stop hanging out with that guy, he looks at me so weird he knows I have a boyfriend” She’s speaking very loudly, and the sound is reverberating inside your head like a gong. You want to shut her up so bad.

Instead of giving in to your urge to fully swing, you opt to take a couple breaths to control your racing heart and mind. You cannot let her get into your head.

“Where were you last night, Jennie?”

Your question sounds innocent, but there’s venom laced in your tone. There was a threat looming, and you know she could feel it all of a sudden too. Her expression changes slightly, and there’s a hint of the face she had shown you when she told you the same thing last night;

“The dance studio, I told you! Choreography, comp season? My boyfriend? He’s on the dance team if you weren’t aware” She’s mocking you, trying to cover up a lie.

“Why the headache, then? And rolling out of bed at this hour?” You’re asking her simple questions, partly because those are all you can muster (other than a string of the worst profanities your 11th-grade art teacher graciously taught you). But mostly because you’re trying to give her an opening. You want her to tell you the truth before spitting it on her face by yourself.

“We drank at some bar down a couple blocks, the both of us. Yes, I have a hangover, stop asking me questions”

You’re silent for a little bit. She thinks she won.

“Jennie, do you really think I’m stupid?” It’s a quiet voice that comes out directly from your chest, it’s shaky. Is it hurt or anger? You can’t decide, maybe both.

“What, you think I’m lying?” She says, barking out a blistering, heated laugh.

For a second, you think you might have been mistaken. Her certainty was unwavering, almost testing your audacity. Even when you’re so sure of yourself, there’s still a part of you that wants to believe her, so fucking bad.

“Comp season ended last week” It’s a declarative statement, one that you can’t take away.

Her face changes again. For the first time since this fight started, Jennie looks unsure of herself.

“Comp season ended last week, Jennie” You repeat, “And last night was the end-of-season party”

You blatantly look at her up and down before adding “, if you needed your memory jogged”

Rendered speechless, you can see the gears turning in her head as she figures out what to say.

“I don’t know why you lied, to go to the same fucking party, with the same fucking people, that we both go to all the fucking time”

“Y/n-”

“No, Jennie, I’ve had enough. You’ve been blowing me off for literally fucking everything for the past fucking year or something, did you get a boyfriend and decide to let it inflate your head?”

You’re yelling, loudly.

“How do I know what else you’ve been lying to my face about? When you can spit borderline folklore out of your mouth like its fucking nothing, that’s not a flex that’s psychopathic!”

Your breathing is heavy, so heavy.

“How do you do it? Because I wanna know. How do you lie so easily? To think you’d spare me at the very least. I cared for and trusted you enough to put my heart into your hands, I let you lie to me about the stupidest things and it’s me I should be blaming because what the fuck was wrong with me? To let you, literally manipulate me like this. Every fucking day it feels like.”

There’re tears running down your face, as you scream at her.

“And don’t you dare say I’m the one overreacting, because you know about the shit you’ve been pulling. To the disrespect, to the manipulation, to every single time you’ve treated me like I was your fucking sidekick or something. I’m so beyond sick of it. I wanted you to tell me the truth right now, but you chose to continue to lie and make me feel guilty about something that’s not even my fucking fault. Because you’re weak. You need to make everyone feel inferior so you can put yourself up on that pedestal you’ve made out of other people’s dignity. And honestly, it’s a really ugly look on you”

You turn around and run your hands through your hair, rubbing the tears off your face harshly in an attempt to calm yourself.

“I put you before everything. Before my own feelings, my own comfort. Because the last thing I wanted was for you to be hurt about anything. I kneeled after every horrible thing you’d say or do because no matter how much it hurt me, I couldn’t stay mad at you. Because sisters always forgive each other. I treated you like family.”

You stop, choosing to not go further before you have a proper meltdown in the hallway, all for her to just keep looking at you, blank and silent.

Hearing the click of a door opening on the other side of the house, in the other disconnected hallway, you look behind to see a half-asleep Soonyoung walk out dazed and confused.

Of course he was here.

You look back to see Jennie with the same neutral expression, incessantly avoiding your gaze.

You don’t walk inside your room until she’s finally made eye contact, to which you realize you had thrown the purest look of disgust and disappointment.

You’d flopped onto your bed, adrenaline slow to recede as you take time to register what just happened. And when you do, to your utter shock, you felt good. It was like a weight you’d been holding on to for a lifetime was thrown across the universe, never to be felt again. You felt good, giving Jennie everything you know she was long overdue for. You don’t know what the next step is going to possibly be for both of you, if she finds it within herself to apologize - or not, you don’t really care right now.

For now, you send the group chat a very, very long voice message.

After which you took a fat nap because lashing out at lifelong friends was exhausting.

***

You barely see Jennie in the next few weeks. Occasional passes in the kitchen to which she turns around and walks right back out when she sees you there. Not a word is spoken between you, and you know she’s uncomfortable.

You, however, are completely fine. Really, you didn’t care at all, which was surprising to both you and your friends. You lived as you did; worked, read, hung out with your friends, everything as usual. The only difference was that there was less Jennie around, and despite the very gaping hole in your routine, you didn’t feel incomplete or empty.

Both Alyssa and Joshua demanded a play-by-play recap of the entire thing, the same night you had woken up from your nap to a bombarding of messages in the group chat. You’d met them that night and given them what they asked for, and they were surprised to find you fairly nonchalant.

Neither you nor your friends were too sure what these few weeks of silence meant, at least in terms of what was going on in her head. If you didn’t know better, you’d be back to normal already, because you would’ve approached her with an apology or a neutral consensus. To which you would’ve received a half-assed sorry in return, right before she went back to her usual antics. She’s waiting for you to break the silence because she still thinks this is something she can brush over. Jennie, as smart as she is, will soon realize she’s gravely mistaken and that you weren’t folding anytime soon.

“I think you should move out,” Alyssa says, poking at a piece of chicken in her overpriced rice bowl. “I would’ve had you gone the day it happened, honestly”

It wasn’t a thought you hadn’t considered, but you were giving it time to marinate.

“If there’s anyone moving out, it’s her. It’s my name on the lease, I’m not giving up that place” You grumble.

She sighs in response, glitter in her eyes as she puts her chin in both hands on the table.

“They grow up so fast. If someone told me, you’d even fathom kicking Jennie out of the apartment I would’ve sent them on their way with prayers and a hospital business card”

You snort in response, “I’ll bring it up to her the next time I see her. God knows where she is more than half the time”

“I saw her sitting with Soonyoung’s friends outside the tennis court yesterday. And she was, studying in the library the week before. Thought she hated the entire lot of his friends, it’s funny how she’s changed her mind”

You took Alyssa’s advice and had gone home to knock on Jennie’s bedroom door.

“Can we talk in the living room” You had asked plainly.

She was quiet other than a “yeah, sure” as she followed you to the couch.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to move out. I don’t think it’s best for us to be in each other’s spaces right now, and it’s my name on the lease so it’s easier on both of us if you find another apartment.” The words were coming out blunt, wanting nothing but to be over this.

She looks a little taken aback. “What?”

“You can take your time, obviously. But don’t bother paying for this month if you end up moving sooner.”

“Is that it?”

“Yeah”

“Cool”

She gets up and leaves, exhaling louder than usual in what you think may be a frustrated sigh. You move over it though; you did what you had to do.

***

When the receptionist tells you there’s someone waiting for you, you think its Joshua picking you up from your T.A. job to go pick up lunch. You wonder why he didn’t just text you, but you grab your purse and leave nonetheless, excited for a break. What you don’t expect is, no waiting Joshua but a Kwon Soonyoung who’s waving you down as he sees you come out.

“Hey”

“Hi” you reply awkwardly, waiting for an explanation for the visit.

“I know this is really random but, can we talk? It’s about Jennie”

So here you are, at a cafe close to your department, sitting across from Soonyoung who’s beginning to give you context.

“I heard a lot of what happened that day you guys fought, it sounded pretty serious and I didn’t mean to walk in on you guys like that but I was so hungover I wasn’t thinking straight” He looks like he’s cringing at the memory, playing with the rings on his finger. You count a plethora of earrings adorning his ears too, never noticing how many piercings he had before this.

“She reassured me it was a common occurrence you both would be fine in the morning - a couple days max.” He glances up at you before stirring his drink with his straw, “That didn’t happen, obviously. She won’t tell me the entirety of the problem but I know that whatever it is, it’s pretty big.”

He’s silent for a moment while he tries to formulate his next words, he’s being careful about what he says.

“She told me that you asked her to move out, which I get, totally. But she was pretty upset because she thought you were going to apologize”

You pause mid-sip before looking up at him, “She thought what?”

“That- you were going to apologize. Listen, I don’t know what happened, I don’t know who’s in the wrong it could be the both of you or it could be neither, but that isn’t the point. All I’m here to ask you is to please try to talk to her. She’s refusing to listen to me and she won’t tell me what going on either. Her mood is all over the place, it’s affecting the people around her. She doesn’t know how to deal with the situation other than responding to everything with abrasion, and I think that’s only going to stop if whatever’s going on between you is solved”

He finishes with a sigh. You take a good look at him and conclude that he’s probably tired of his girlfriend’s antics and is desperate for a way to help himself. He probably feels a little guilty too, like he’s trying to change her

You weigh your options within 10 seconds; should you tell him or not? There’s a snitch inside of you that’s aching to ruin whatever relationship Jennie had with the man in front of you because, in a way, that very relationship was what lead to the downfall of your friendship. You’re quick to slap that thought away, this was all Jennie’s fault, not his. Unless he was feeding her with lies too, you found no reason to hold any grudges against this man. A cruel part of you quips that he may be a poor, tortured soul too, forced into her clutches. You don’t doubt that she may be lying to him about multiple things too, but you can’t assume.

Regardless, seeing Soonyoung this tame? Calm? Not surrounded by people? Was a little strange for you. He was quite the campus socialite, what you would describe as fuckboy behaviour, except he was in a committed relationship and generally quite respectful from what you’ve seen. It might be because you’ve mainly only ever seen him under alcoholic influence that’s made this image of a loud, party animal in your head. He was friendly enough, there was no reason for people to not wanna be his friend.

Deciding to not be a menace, you don’t tell him the details about what happened. Never trusting Jennie’s storytelling skills, you can’t be sure what she’s told him or will tell him in the future, and you want to know what timeline she lays out for all of this. It wouldn’t be long, while you were picky with what people you told your problems about, Jennie was an open book.

“Soonyoung, listen. I’ve known Jennie almost my entire life, and every conversation I’ve had with her takes us nowhere but back to square one. You can do the math on that, but I think, after so long, it’s fair for me to feel tired of being the person taking the initiative all the time. I understand how you feel because I know Jennie, but I’m sorry, I won’t be the one bringing up this conversation with her”

His shoulders slump a little, his expression slightly defeated.

“It’s that bad?” He asks quietly, voice strained.

You nod slightly, grimacing.

“Not that I think you’re gonna tell me, but, what did happen between you two? I just heard the screaming bits, but they didn’t really give anything away.” Before you can reply he’s quick to add, “I don’t want you to think I’m asking because I want tea or whatever, I just, want context so I can maybe help her”

You feel bad for him, because he genuinely sounds so helpless, and you consider maybe telling him. Before you can backtrack, he’s looking up at you with swimming eyes. You’re heart stops for a second, watching him as you realize he’s unraveling, just like you were not too long ago. And for seemingly the same reasons too. There’s a tug in your heart as you realize you pity him, and he’s probably sick of being left in the dark and yet having to deal with the unsolicited side effects.

And that’s when you do another thing in the past month that is so unlike yourself, you told Soonyoung everything.

The conversation had gone fine, he listened to you as you spoke, telling him about context and conversations that ultimately lead to your fallout.

He had reassured you he had no idea about how his presence was indirectly affecting your friendship, and you were solid to voice that he had nothing to worry about if he hadn’t done anything to purposefully pull her away.

Everything he said, you took with a grain of salt. He was still Jennie’s boyfriend and could be convincing himself that you’re lying for all you know. There was no blame coming onto him for being on his girlfriend’s side. An instinctual, observant part of you was telling you that he didn’t think you were entirely wrong.

You weren’t worried though, Jennie could tell him whatever she wanted, but you already told your truth. No matter who he chose to believe, he’d figure out what the problems were eventually. Just like you did.

Soonyoung had insisted to pay for your coffee in return for taking up your time and allowing you both to leave not too long after wrapping up your brief feelings about the situation.

You don’t think too much of his limited response, it’s a lot to dump on him about his girlfriend, from her supposed best friend. But once again, you’re beyond the point of caring anymore.

***

“Nice, nice!” You hear Seungkwan yell as you send the ball back over to his side. Never really interested in the sport, you had allowed him to rope you in for a first experience on the volleyball court.

“To blow off some steam,” he said.

He was informed about the fight you and Jennie had, not that he knew the details, nor did he pry too much. Noting that you were becoming slightly more agitated as the days passed, he decided to force you, Alyssa, and Joshua, to the court to help you sweat some of the frustration off.

Joshua and Seungkwan were fine, better than fine seeing as they were both actually on the university’s team. You and Alyssa got by, learning the ropes as you go and trying not to break a finger or a nail. Or a nose, for that matter, considering the velocity of some of the serves Seungkwan was sending to your side of the court.

“Pretend your Miya Atsumu or something, just slam as hard as you can”

You were trying, but you don’t think he fully understood that you could be pooped only 40 minutes in.

“Look at you, Y/n, skin glowing, hair flowing. I told you this would be good for you”

That glow was sweat, and that flow was more so a euphemism for the bird’s nest that had become of your hair, looking overall disheveled and doubled over, trying to catch your breath.

You snap your head up to give Seungkwan a look of disbelief across the court, prompting all three of them to laugh at the irony.

But you had to admit, the past month and a half’s worth of slight irritants were slowly getting to you, and you needed some good physical activity and quality time to get back on track. Jennie still hadn’t moved out, telling you she needed more time to look for apartments. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that told you she hadn’t looked for anything at all.

You didn’t see Soonyoung after that day at the cafe a few days ago, not expecting to hear so soon from him either.

What you also weren’t expecting was Jennie to barge into the volleyball court, stomping her way over to you.

It takes a moment for you to react, seeing her come at you with such belligerence, heck just the fact this was her most intense interaction within a month and a half was a little more than just offputting.

“You”

She’s talking to me?

Jennie confirms that yes, you, meant you in specific as she bring an angry finger pointed at you in accusation, as she slams her feet across the court to where you are.

You realize too late that her other raised arm was in an effort to land on you too, physically this time.

You’re lucky you have friends with less dusty processing chips when you see Alyssa grab her arm to stop her from doing something rash. You still haven’t moved a muscle.

Jennie shoves Alyssa off, gaze never leaving yours.

“You’ve got balls coming for me when you’ve been prancing around arm in arm with my boyfriend?”

“What are you-”

“My turn to say, ‘did you think I wasn’t gonna find out?’”, she says, smiling in mock pleasantness. “Little birdie told me you’ve been meeting up with him for weeks behind my back. Fucking him? Touching him? What belongs to me? And he fessed up to all of it so don’t even try acting all innocent you swine-”

“Jennie, that’s enough” Joshua’s voice comes from behind.

Your start talking before she can retort him with another ghastly insult.

“Nice to know you’re believing whatever comes out of anyone’s mouth just to victimize yourself, again”

She might as well have slapped you with the look she gives you.

“Believe whatever you want Jennie, I spoke to Soonyoung once during this entire thing and it was the bleakest conversation I’ve ever had”

“Care to explain the pictures I have of you both going on fucking coffee dates?” She’s borderline screeching in your ear at this point.

You can’t tell if she’s bluffing.

“Back to that one conversation I had with him. Lasted maybe 20 minutes over a coffee neither of us finished. So if your done deluding yourself into thinking the world has it in for you because your just that precious, wake the fuck up. You’re not special, nobody’s trying to steal your man, fucking keep him”

Your voice is quiet and calm, but there’s an edge you willingly bring into your words. You want her gone for real now.

She huffs again before stalking back out, and into the arms of another girl, Minji, you recognize from the pictures. This girl you’ve never spoken to before turns around to throw you the nastiest glare before ushering both of them out.

The aftermath of that included another serve session where you actually did slam the balls as hard as you could, Seungkwan was right, you did still have some unguided juice left.

Speaking of Seungkwan, you spared the poor boy’s confusion by finally giving him the details he’d been holding back from asking. His reactions lightened your mood though, the comments and the expressions. You guessed this was you trusting him now.

That was 5 people who knew about the fiasco, Minji too by the looks of it, so make that 6. More, if Jennie had decided to tell more people.

But what was on your mind, as you yourself was about to make a stalking entrance into another venue, was whatever the fuck Soonyoung told Jennie for it to have a repercussion like this.

You were angry at yourself for telling him everything, thinking that it was what had caused another problem to arise.

When you walk past the empty floor of the dance studios to open any one that wasn’t locked, you were lucky to find Soonyoung alone in one of them, dancing to some low tone rap blaring from the speakers. He notices you immediately, moving to stop the music and acknowledge your presence.

“What did you tell Jennie?” You ask him clearly.

“Could ask you the same thing” His face is stoic, he’s not very happy at all you notice.

“What?”

“Meeting at your place when she’s not there? Seriously, Y/n? Why are you roping me into your bullshit, when did I ever hang out with you alone before last week?!”

“Are you saying I told Jennie that?”

“Apparently! Because she broke up with me thinking I’ve been cheating on her this entire time. With you!” He announces loudly.

You realize what’s happening immediately, Jennie was trying to fix the mess she’d put herself in. By lying.

“Really? Because she’s told me that you admitted to meeting me all the time too.” You deadpan, hoping he’d realize you’d both been lied to.

“I never said that” he says, face contorted to incredulousness.

“That’s what I was told, though”

“You two best friends are the same, this entire fucking time I’ve been around you it’s been misery and problems and bullshit I’ve never asked for” He bellows, turning around, massaging his temples like he has a headache.

“You think I actually said that? Are you not seeing the problem here? We’ve both been lied to, Soonyoung” You move closer to him, like the proximity would help him absorb the point that’s flying way over his head in the midst of his anger.

“Oh please, cut the shit, I’ve had it! You both have a manipulating problem you need to fix. You’re not special, wake up.” He’s screaming in your face now, a raging monologue ripping.

Those three words, the same ones you said to Jennie not even an hour ago, were spat back at your own face. And with what it entailed for you, you acted before you could think.

The slap you sent across Kwon Soonyoung’s face sent a reverberating sound across the dance studio.

He looks up, eyes bloodshot and swimming with fury. There’s a hint of a smile on his face for some reason, which you realize may be out of disbelief.

You don’t register anything else other than the rage that accelerates down your own veins. There’s a part of you that wants to do it again when he utters his next words.

“That was a bad fucking idea”

“Was it? I could tell you the same thing. You’re stupid enough to be manipulated again by the same manipulator you just left behind, that’s pathetic Soonyoung”

It’s beyond you why you’re having to explain all if this to him like a child.

“Was anything I told you that day make its way into your head? At all? The reason this entire situation with her and I even happened was because of Jennie and her lies. The way she twists the truth and pits people against each other for the sake of looking like the innocent one. Get that through your thick skull before you start throwing accusations around. If we both can understand that she lied about what you said, what makes you think anything else that she said was true?”

There’s a heavy feeling in the glares you’re sending each other. Neither of you are okay, both of you betrayed. He’s breathing heavily but his face is less contorted. He’s evaluating. He’s finding reason in your words.

You back down from this emotional staring contest first, tired of being angry about something regarding Jennie - again.

“I’m sorry about hitting you like that, you just- you said something else that kinda triggered me, but I shouldn’t have reacted that way”

“It’s whatever I guess” He grumbled in response.

“I hope you’ll think about what I’ve said. We’re both pretty upset right now, I think we need to give it some time” You were taking a leaf out Joshua’s book and giving yourselves time to diffuse.

“Yeah, okay that’s fine”

And with that you turn around to leave him standing in the middle of the empty studio, with another plethora of thoughts at his front door.

***

The next time you see Soonyoung is when you invite him over to your place for the first time, knowing the connotations that could bring with recent progressions. But it needed to be done. As much as you would’ve rather spoken from a distance that’s brought with public seating, it was another risk of another angry barge in. You both had had enough of those.

Besides, Jennie was quick to move out after the last altercation, realizing finally that you weren’t about to back down to any moves she tries to make. No word from her since. It felt like eternal peace at last.

As much as you wished you could leave everything that happened between you and Soonyoung behind, there was too much sensitive content that was aired for it to rendered resolved from that last angry face off in the studio. So you decided the safety of your home was the best bet you had for privacy to do what needed to be done.

You also decided dinner wouldn’t hurt, you made a mean pesto salad, everybody likes pesto. And pasta for that matter. The kimchi fried rice along with it would be a weird combo but you decided to throw it on the table anyway, everybody likes rice too.

You were briefly wondering if this was okay for a dancer to eat, you’d heard about carbs being problematic for high tension sport or whatever - was dance a sport? It has to be with the amount these people have to move-

You're cut off by the sharp sound of your front door ringing. No going back now, you opened the door to let Soonyoung in.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, no, I’m okay, thanks” he says as he seats himself on the couch.

The silence is awkward as it fills the rooms, neither of you knowing how to approach the topic without sounding too head on.

You brought him here, so you decide to break the ice first.

“What’re you’re thoughts about, that, now?” You start meekly, trying to make it sound as less abrasive as you can.

“I mean, I had time to think about it, obviously. And I had to really sit back and rethink our entire relationship and I’m a little put off by how I didn’t figure out what was happening myself. There were, so many signs, so many red flags.”

He’s rubbing his face with his hands,you notice a little silver ring on his pinky finger. “None of my friends liked her, I don’t know if you knew. They wouldn’t mention anything about it in front of you ever, for obvious reasons”

You recall Joshua telling you the same thing, the night before the big fight.

“I couldn’t understand why they were so hostile towards her but- but I see it now. I know love can be blinding sometimes but, this really was another level” He lets out a sad laugh.

“But yeah, another one of my friends told me Jennie’s been going around telling people variations of the same cheating story to everyone. None of them are matching the other, I doubt she even remembers what she’s said or who she’s said it to”

He looks up at you when he says that, in acknowledgment of what you’ve been trying to tell him this entire time.

“But after everything that’s happened, I think I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for lashing out at you when the truth was right there. That slap was deserved.” He smiles a little at the end.

“It’s alright, but I totally got why you’d believe Jennie though. She’s - was - your girlfriend, her words are bound to be more credible than mine. I just didn’t think it’d go this far. And please don’t say what I did was deserved, we’re not animals I don’t know why I let my frustrations out that way.” You were speaking the truth, under the hope that he too was also not lying to you.

“I don’t think this’ll be the end of it though. I doubt she’s going to stop lying to everyone about what happened anytime soon. If this keeps up…” He trails off a little.

His reputation was a lot more prominent than yours, and everything that was supporting it may be going into flames right in front of him.

“I’m scared her crap is gonna reach management or something and that’s when it gets even more problematic. Stuff like this always snowballs and…” He’s trailing off again.

“It’s okay, nothing’s coming out from this space” you attempt to reassure him.

He chews on his lip for a minute, elbows on knees, “I know from experiences lesser than this that have roped me into trouble, whether I was at fault or not, that it’s going to affect me somehow. This is a lot bigger, and knowing that this is going to escalate as more people talk, I’m scared I’m gonna get a call”

“Like, they’re not gonna kick you out of the dance team for some rumor, right?”

His hat is off as he runs a hand through his dark locks, “They could, we compete at a professional level. And rep counts. I’m pretty involved with the team with kind of everything, that can’t look good if I’m an apparent asshole”

There’s a very defeated look on his face, a prospect of his entire future possibly falling apart. You realize how deep this goes for him, and how this might affect for years to come. All for a rumor somebody he trusted made about him to save their own ass.

Considering your positions, you may be the only person who can understand his predicament.

“And if they try to push me about something, they might bother you too. You have a T.A job, right?”

You hadn’t even thought about your own job, you were quite dependent on it and with an entire apartment’s worth of rent now heavy on your pockets, you couldn’t afford to lose this job.

Your head was racing with that realization, but you could only manage a small “Oh”.

“What do you think we should do?” you ask dumbly, not having any ideas of your own. This was going beyond what you wanted to happen, this was supposed to end at two people.

“I have no idea” He’s agitated, you can tell because he’s been moving and shifting so much. He’s throwing his head right now, eyes closed, heel tapping on the floor. He reigns himself back in and opens his eyes, reluctantly it feels like.

“Our best bet right now is to trust that people won’t listen to her, majority of our friends dislike her, but I can’t be sure other people feel the same. I have hope that our friends will exercise common sense, and irrational dislike I guess, and not take her word for things”

“No, you’re right. Other people are gonna believe her in a heartbeat I’ve seen how people are when it comes to her” You’re picking at the skin of your palms as you speak, mind trailing to the plethora of people who would try to get to Jennie through you.

“Maybe get to them first. Maybe not management but, people on the team who could vouch for you if need be. But I don’t think you need to do that for them to believe you, people only have nice things to say about you, and with the general off-ness around Jennie I do think they’ll believe you” You voice your thoughts, dry mouthed but trying to sound supportive.

“I mean, I hope it doesn’t get to that point. It really shouldn’t, anyway.” You quip once more.

He’s listening to you, nodding his head but his expression tells you that he’s far away. The last thing you want is for him to start spiraling so you suggest the first possible solution that pops in your head.

“Do you want a drink?”

Some would say that was a bad idea, considering his very popular tendency for not being able to hold his liquor. But you had your reasons and it paid off after a couple wines.

It was a weird spread on the table, leftover fried rice and a pesto salad you’d made earlier, add to the cheap supermarket wine you were drinking in water glasses, you look like you were in some relatable Netflix show.

Whatever the predicament was, you weren’t complaining because you’d both had your nerves calmed and stomachs fed. The conversation following was light and friendlier than any conversation you remember ever having with him. He spoke in more detail about his dance stuff, how comp season came back with a win for them, how his teammates are his best friends.

He tended to start talking like a child when he was tipsy, to be fair that could just be the passion coming out in that way, but it was endearing regardless.

He asked about your T.A. job and realized he might have you for next semester, “if I remember my semester plan right”.

“That’s great! You can help me; I suck at stuff like that” he grumbled as you reassured him he’d be in safe hands with the professor alone. You were just extra help.

“Oh, I did that module in my first year!” you exclaim, as he spoke about another horrible midterm that was coming up for him. “I could help you with it if you want. Pretty sure I have my notes stashed somewhere”

“Did you have Professor Choi, too?”

“Yes! I did. You need to read the textbook more than the lecture slides when it comes to her, her tests are impossible without it”

“No wonder, that earlier test was talking about shit I’d never seen before”

You had gone to bed that night feeling so much lighter regarding the whole matter. It felt good to have Soonyoung who was willing to be on your side for this. Of course, your friends would always be with you and they still were, but having someone who’s going through the same thing as you sets it apart. You go to sleep that night feeling grateful for whatever help the universe was giving you.

***

Something in the air had shifted that night and you found yourself in Soonyoung’s company more than you had initially planned. You were sitting at a barbecue place with your friends, Soonyoung was there too.

He’s had a little too much to drink, again, as he leans on Mingyu’s chest after crying his heart out to some song that ignited a sentimental fire in him. It’s all good not even five minutes later as he’s back to standing on his chair to make a toast to every last person on the table.

“Seungkwan!” he’s tearing up a little now, “I fucking love you, man”

Sengkwan’s trying to humor him, a little grimace on his face at his obvious wasted state. He’s joking though. Mostly.

“I wanna be your ball boy for life, throw all the fucking balls you want at me I’ll pick all of them up for you. I want you to judge all my choreos for the rest of my life. I don’t got a girl to do that for me anymore” Everybody on the table erupts into laughter, Soonyoung included. They were all well informed on Jennie’s antics at this point and had enough choice words dedicated in her memory.

“Joshi!”

“Hoshi!” Joshua exclaims back.

“I’d date you if I was a girl, but I’m not, and that sucks, but it’s fine, I’m more than happy to be your friend”

Mingyu’s tugging him to sit down at this point, his voice getting noticeably louder by the second. He throws his head back as he swallows the shot in hand in honor of Joshua, and you take sip of your own drink.

“Y/n!” He screams when he’s done. You can’t imagine what he could possibly have to say about you.

“Life fucking sucks” He deadpans, and you can’t help but quip.

“Hear, hear!”

Another eruption of chortles from the group.

“But you handle it beautifully, which is something you've taught me better than anyone. I’d let you slap me again if I was being a dumb bitch, if only you’d let me be a sassy asshole in return”

He’s making no sense, no doubt muddled in his thoughts. Everybody drinks to that regardless, and you watch as he throws his own head back only to sputter violently as he comes round.

Mingyu had replaced his shot with water.

***

Alyssa had crashed at your place that night and said multiple things you would like to owe to her drunken stupor.

One particular instance was when she was trying to glue back the lamp she’d bumped into and shattered. It was futile, but she was wasted enough to convince herself it was as easy to fix as impromptu Tetris.

You let her be, opting to stare at the ceiling lying next to her on the floor.

“Do you think you could date Soonyoung” she mumbles, fiddling with a piece of plastic.

You were only slightly tipsy, but your reaction was still quite lukewarm considering the outburst you’d have had if she said it on any other day.

“It’s kinda complicated isn’t it. Imagine we do and everyone goes, ‘oh, we knew it they were in it for each other all along’” you’re waving your hands in the air as you say it, giggling at your own impersonation. “It’s not happening though. Man obviously has a type and I’m no Jennie”

“You did not just insinuate Jennie was prettier than you” Alyssa has her violent, confused and outraged expression on as she drops the pieces in her hand for dramatic effect.

“I mean she definitely carries herself better, charm is important” you say.

“Honey, please, anyone with a personality like that is immediately classified ugly as fuck” She retorts, her face contorting into more outrageous expressions she’d never be able to pull sober.

“Whatever, that’s not the point. I don’t like the guy anyway, can you imagine trying to handle all that after every drunk night?”

She ponders for a minute before adding slightly, “But he’s… he’s cute though. Hamster type”

You shift to face her directly and ask her the inevitable question, “Alyssa, do you like Soonyoung?”

“NO! Geez no, you may be ballsy enough to get on Jennie’s nasty side but I’m not, I’m not coming near her pieces. Besides, that cutie from my cultural psych class is onto me, I can feel it. His name’s Jeonghan, I might slip him my insta if he doesn’t do it within the next week” She’s smiling and tilting her head as she speaks about the boy from her class.

“Find me a couple cute ones too. Can’t be spending the rest of my life alone, can I?” You blow out, a little annoyed at your lack of action.

“Oh, you’ll be fine. Although, you should think about Soonyoung a little bit, keep the option open.” She notes the way your face changes, “I mean keep him last resort too, I guess, I don’t know, you’d be cute together”

“I’m not gonna go and date my best-” you stop yourself before you can refer to Jennie as your best friend,”- just no, it’s going to be weird I don’t wanna be known as someone who steals other people’s bitches”

“But you’re not stealing him? You never did. You barely spoke to him while he was dating that woman and you’re both more than detached from her now. Do whatever the fuck you want, you’re adults. Besides, people know about what happened, they’re on both your sides more than ever”

You think about what she says, she’s right, but that doesn’t matter in the end. Because you didn’t like Soonyoung like that. No point justifying a relationship that’s never going to happen.

You’re distracted from your pondering as the (incorrectly) glued masterpiece Alyssa was trying to build back falls apart once more, like it did not even an hour ago.

***

Squeaky shoes against the floors are still audible despite the roaring coming from the speaker. The last time you were in here, you’d left only after leaving a reasonably red handprint on the cheek of the person dancing in front of you.

You were dragged here by Seungkwan, claiming he didn’t want to sit though hours of choreography rectification with Soonyoung alone. Nothing better to do, you chose to grace yourself out of your rat hole and accompany him.

You had learned the dance by now.

Turn, hand out, drop down and twist the torso…

He’s monitoring himself in the mirror with an intensity that’s intimidating you even while seated away from his line of sight. Right in front of the mirrors with Seungkwan but his attention only moves when he’s done with the set.

“How about now?” He pants out between gulps of air as he pauses the music.

“The music’s really pang pang you know, but like, you’re general movement is too much like” Seungkwan’s trying to explain his vision but is losing his words.

“It’s a little too flowy for the music” you say, chin in hand trying to absorb what he’s trying to say.

He claps his hands and points, “Flowy, that’s what”

“There’s a lot of dramatic moves, maybe that’s why it feels that way? Tone down the drops and turns, maybe?” You add, trying to be more helpful than just throwing out a criticism.

He’s making familiar movements in the mirror listening to your words.

“Yeah, that makes sense” He responds, “How’s this instead of this drop in the beginning?”

He asks and Seungkwan gets up to help with some movements of his own.

You watch them from your position on the floor, giggling at failed attempts and ‘woah’’s emitted from mildly impressive suggestions. Seungkwan pretends to be annoyed at these sessions but his effort to help is proving him otherwise.

Hoshi’s wearing something outside of his trendy jeans and shoes as he opts for the sweats and zip up look. He needs to be comfortable you guess, but there’s a part of you that wants to ask him where he got his pants from. They look good on him.

After a couple hours, another group of people from the team walk in for their allocated time with the studio so all three of you are forced out of your creative stride.

“They should get more studios I hate overenthusiastic juniors who do nothing but fool around for 3 hours” Soonyoung is mumbling in protest as you walk to the nearest convenience store for an odd time snack.

“Shouldn't somebody moderate them, then? Coach, captain, whoever” You ask as you rummage around the old freezer to find the ice cream you’re looking for.

“That’s not fair on the other juniors then, is it? They all work hard, there’s just a couple who think they’re on a constant field trip” He huffs, swatting your hand away and burrows for whatever it is that you can’t find. He comes up with a crushed pack, left desolate at the bottom of the freezer.

“No, it has nuts in it” you complain, “That was at the bottom too, shit’s prolly been in there since the ice age”

He huffs before trudging to find someone who could help with your ice cream predicament.

Seungkwan pops up behind you, arms full of instant ramen and sausages, as he starts rummaging through the freezer as well. He drops one of his sausage packets into the mango lollies and lets out a cry.

“They’re not here, Soonyoung went to ask” you say as he picks up a basket from behind him and dumps his load into it.

“These people have crutches and walking sticks at the ready but can’t ever stock up on their ice cream. It’s a university campus for the love of God, what student’s looking for crutches at midnight!?” He complains loudly.

Soonyoung is back from his heist at this point and brings the tragic news that they’re out of what you’re looking for. Both of you let out a solemn sound of disappointment and you opt for the creamsicle sitting on top of the pile instead. It’ll have to do.

You’re done with your ice cream before you dig into the bowl of ramen Seungkwan had very nicely made for you. You were getting princess treatment from everyone today, having the both of them run around as your personal errand boys. That doesn’t last for too long when Seungkwan barks at you to go get him a soda. You can’t complain when he mumbles about all the stuff he’s done for you.

The weather was nice outside, slightly cool but enough for you to enjoy your cheap thrills on the plastic set up outside the store. By the time you come back out, Seungkwan’s informing you that Alyssa and Joshua were coming here too, to which you set his coke down only to run back inside and get them stuff they’d like.

Alyssa is sniffling and wet faced as she sets herself next to you. You don’t notice until you see Joshua’s cautious eyes widening, trying to get you to acknowledge her sorrows.

You’re setting your feet down from their folded position once you do actually see the tear stains.

“What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

“I slipped Jeonghan my IG today…” She starts before taking a shaky breath.

Your stomach plummets in dread for what she might say next.

“He gave it back to me”

There it is.

“What do you mean he gave it back? Are you sure he didn’t think you dropped it?” You try to salvage the situation,

“NO!” She yells finally, tears now actively streaming down her face, “He read it. He read the fucking chit and gave it back to me like it was a piece of trash”

“That can’t be right, he likes you!” Soonyoung surprisingly adds. How did he know that?

“How do you know?” She says, “You sit like 4 rows ahead, how would you know?”

They were in the same class?

“Because I overheard him talking to his friends. I swear I did; he was talking about wanting to ask you out” He insists, he’s even dropped his chopsticks.

“Why would he give the note back then?” She asks, her voice suddenly small.

“How exactly did you give him the note?” Seungkwan asks.

“I crumpled it and kind of dropped it in his general area…?” She states cautiously.

You groan internally.

“Crumpled it? Seriously? Of course he was going to think it was trash who crumples it and then throws it on the floor?” You exasperate, not understanding how she thought it was a good idea.

“BUT-but, it’s embarrassing if I just hand him a note.” She grumbles at your outburst.

“Babe, you want him or nah?” Seungkwan deadpans, looking done with the whole situation.

“Yes? If it wasn’t obvious already-”

“You don’t want him bad enough” He declares and proceeds to shove the ice cream filled plastic spoon into his mouth, like it was nothing.

Alyssa stands up in an emotional rage, “What the fuck does that mean? I’m literally having an emotional meltdown over this guy and you’re telling me I don’t want him bad enough?”

The situation is honestly a little comical, with Alyssa’s tear stained, incredulous face as opposed to Seungkwan’s apparent nonchalance. You’re biting back a snort, but keep it in for your best friend’s sake. You’re understanding Seungkwan’s strategy, and you know it’s bound to work.

“Prove it then. Go up to him and tell him next week, after class. If you can, obviously, unless you’re too embarrassed”

“Fine!” She exclaims, “I’ll ask him out next Monday, and you owe me dinner if I do”

Seungkwan, sits up straight to put his hand on his heart in a solemn oath, “I, Boo Seungkwan, swear to you that I will buy you dinner if you can ask Jeonghan from your class out on a date”

“Your heart’s on the other side, dumbass” It’s Hoshi that quips that sentence to which Seungkwan proceeds to project his empty ice cream cup at him, only for it to land in his unfinished ramen.

***

“Do I mention skewness?” Hoshi asks you, looking up from his laptop and notes.

“Um, did you take out a z score?”

“Yeah, I did but does it apply here?”

“Can I see the sheet again?”

You’re sitting in the library helping Soonyoung with his coursework like you promised, piles of sheets and strewn pens decorate the table in the library as you help him do his work while you finished up some stuff of your own.

He had a final report due in 4 hours, not realizing it existed until this morning when one of his classmates texted him asking for help.

The frenzy he had called you in was enough to have you snapped back to attention from your deep sleep. The clock read 8 AM and you could’ve punched him through the phone as you registered his impeccable timing. But alas, you brushed your teeth and threw on your rattiest hoodie before trudging down to campus to help your damsel in distress.

It was only an introductory class, which may have been his saving grace. It was easy enough after an hour of explaining. You stayed after the fact, the anxiety he’s imbedded this morning had stuck with you, and you doubt you’d be calm until he actually makes his submission.

You’re catching up on notes as he types away, occasionally asking you a stray question to which you oblige.

This was a new feeling for you, not getting annoyed when somebody interrupts your focus. Every question he asked was met with you setting your devices aside and pulling in his own. You were helping him with more diligence than you’d do your own work.

You put it down to finally having someone who actually wanted to do work and not because they were spending time with you as an ulterior motive. Your timings would never match with Alyssa or Joshua or any of your friends too often, clashes were a story known all too well. Maybe it was the idea that Soonyoung was trusting you so much to help him for an ill choiced elective. You’d ponder over your lapse in usual behavior another time, you needed to figure out what to do with Soonyoung’s outliers first.

Soonyoung had walked out of that library and promptly fell to his knees at the end of the steps, arms in the air as he cried out in triumph.

“Oh, OXYGEN!”

You’re slower to clamber down the winding steps, snorting at his proclamation.

“I’m never doing that again” he huffs out, still looking relieved at the stars in the sky.

You pull him up from the sidewalk before he continues to embarrass the both of you; “Come on, you scholar, let’s get some food in your system.

He’s quick to jog up to you at the mention of food, having been running on coffee and adrenaline all day.

“And we’ll just have water with that” You confirm to the waitress, you both have enough caffeine in your system, and you don’t want to find out what happens when you add alcohol to the mix.

Soonyoung’s gone stagnant after the initial rush of freedom as he spaces out while you order. His face is enough indication of his exhaustion, shoulders slouched as he looks two seconds away from being slumped over on the greasy table. You want to run your hands through his hair, maybe let him get 20 minutes of shut eye as you wait for your food.

You’re not sure where you were in your train of thought as you realize there’s been a grave interference in your usual behavior; the second one you’ve realized today. You’re not sure why you could feel his head on your shoulder so vividly or feel his hair between your fingers like they were already planted there, threading through them, relaxing his scalp.

The sound of your drinks and plates being placed in front of snaps both you and Soonyoung out of your daze, a little embarrassed as you mumble out a “Thank you”

“If you’re going to talk to me, please make it utter garbage, I don’t wanna hear a single logical thing for at least a week” He announces before rubbing his face in his hands.

“Sleepy, huh?”

“After all that coffee? Fuck, no” He states, “I’m just mentally exhausted. I don’t like using my head too much”

You snort into your water as he says it; his face wasn’t helping, still looking utterly done with life.

“Where’s the goddamn food I’m hungry” He sticks a single chopstick into the pickled radish before solemnly sticking it into his mouth.

“You survived 6 hours; you can do with another couple minutes”

“What did I say about logic”

“Sorry” You laugh out as you watch the eyes roll to the back of his head.

Your eye catches the bottles of condiments on the end of the table next to the napkins and brochures.

“Were you shocked when you found out ketchup’s made with vinegar?”

“Ketchup’s made with vinegar?”

“Yeah, apparently”

“That’s icky” He concludes, brows still furrowed in disdain.

“Did you know there’s no blood in blood oranges?” He deadpans and you almost bust a blood vessel trying not to laugh. It was a horrible joke, if you could even classify it as one, but his delivery did it for you. Blank face, serious tone, disheveled aura.

You conclude that you’re both beyond exhausted and subsequently thank the universe for the food that finally rolls out on your table. It doesn’t take you long to wipe all your plates clean, minimal words being spoken as you work towards your goal of chewing and swallowing.

You leave the slowly crowding restaurant right before peak hours, suggesting a walk next to the river to clear your minds even further.

You know you should go home by now, but you don’t want the night to end. Besides, Soonyoung was quick to agree, wanting to walk off the overeating.

“I’m not sure how distasteful it is for me to bring this up, especially right after dinner” Soonyoung starts. He’s looking straight ahead as he walks next to you, expression casual. “But the more I hang out with you, the more I realize how you’re nothing like Jennie”

You knew that, but you want him to elaborate, “What makes you say that?”

“Like, personality wise. It’s hard to believe you were such good friends for so long despite being so different”

You’re nodding your head as you listen to him talk. A strange feeling of melancholy settles in your chest, and it weighs heavy on your heart.

“I guess, it’s different when you’ve known someone for so long” You respond to his observation. “Think of your own sister. I bet you wanna bury her 6 feet deep sometimes, she’s probably fucked up more times than you could possibly recount”

You’ve led him to sit on a bench overlooking the river, the streetlights’ reflection casting a glow on the water making it look less insidious.

“But…no matter how bad she fucks up. Your sister is you sister.”

“You really loved her, didn’t you?” He asks you the obvious question, but one that makes you wonder why it pierced you the way it did. He looks over to you, slumped down on the bench so he matches your height while sitting.

“I did. A lot. So did she. It’s just that I just cherished her more than she did me” You sigh, a grimace forming on your face as you voice the thoughts you’ve been keeping to yourself for what seems like your entire life. “I thought it was me being a good friend, but…”

“Recipe for disaster?” He suggests.

“Yeah” You breathe.

“As with any sort of relationship” He adds, he’s still looking at you.

“You know, one of the reasons I felt so betrayed was because I felt used. But when I think about how I clung to her despite everything, it makes me think whether I was using her too. That she was just as much of an instrument to me as I was to her”

“That’s not fair” Soonyoungs voice cuts quick, covered in ice. His face is a mask of apprehension. “That’s not fair to you at all”

“No, it makes me a bit of a hypocrite” The prospect pulls out a laugh from you, a miserable one from a dark part of your soul.

He’s silent for a moment and you watch his face morph into at least five versions of deep thought. His brows are furrowed, nose slightly scrunched, downturned mouth into a suggestion of a pout.

Despite the heaviness in your heart, there’s another warm feeling blooming in your chest as you note how hard he’s working his head to make you feel better about yourself. He could’ve left it with a regular word of comfort, especially after exhausting his cognitive abilities on statistics for the day.

Despite the conflict your own words have brought you, you can’t help but smile at the sight of him. For the second time that day you want to run your fingers through his hair, ease the crease in his brows. Make a joke about how he needs to rest after a day of academic weightlifting.

He speaks before you can pull his hood up to protect his pink ears from the cold.

“Finding solace in friendship isn’t using them, that’s kinda the point, is it not? To expect them to be there for you and have a place in their heart for you. The turnaround is to expect the same back. The problem was how Jennie was giving us the bare minimum, and our mistake was letting her do that. I don’t see any possible reason you could have major fault in this.”

He sits up straight and brings a leg up to rest on the bench, now fully turned to face you.

“Besides, you clinging to her for so long despite everything isn’t something you should beat yourself up about too much. Jennie was probably one of the only constant things in your life, if it was this hard to let go after only knowing her for, like, a year and a half, I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it must’ve been for you. To let go of that one constant line that’s been with you through everything”

Soonyoung’s words are a breakthrough into the cage of remaining regrets you’d locked away. You were pretending to be okay for so long, and it was in this moment that you realized how not okay you truly were.

“Don’t push yourself to be okay,” It’s like he read your mind, “That’s what Mingyu told me anyway, and I think I’d rather feel the burn than lock it away. It was gonna blow up in my face at some point”

He’s smiling at the mention of his friend, and smiling at you, hoping you’d do the same. You do.

“What burns you on this pleasant night, Kwon Soonyoung?” You ask as you mimic his position, leg on the bench. You place your head on the back support, gazing up at him from there.

He ponders on your question for a minute.

“Jennie knows she’s pretty. She’s confident about it, but it’s also become her fatal flaw.”

You knew that.

“I’m…” He falters, “I don't like using the word, it sounds so conceited, but I guess I’m pretty well known around campus. I knew a lot of people and I guess that, in turn meant that they knew me too. One thing led to another and I was suddenly being called a party animal and whatnot, which is ironic because I cannot hold my liquor at all”

“I’ve noticed”

He giggles at that.

“The point I’m trying to make is that Jennie didn’t like me as much as she liked the idea of me. I think she wanted someone who could match her at a social level. I say this because I heard her this one time talking to you, something about a guy not matching her caliber or whatever”

You remember the conversation immediately, it was at another party where you were telling her about a mutual friend in one of your classes, asking if Jennie was single. She wasn’t, which should’ve been the end of the conversation.

“Kept droning on about how it was hilarious to think she’d let him be seen with her or some shit. I don’t know, I owed it to the alcohol but that should’ve been such a huge warning sign. That’s just one thing, there’s so much more to back this up, but I just hoped it was her way of joking around.

“I never really felt loved during the relationship, more like an accessory for her reputation or whatever it was that she was trying to prove. I guess it was all just too Hollywood-esque for me to believe it was actually happening. All of my friends hated how she kept handing me drinks when I was way past my limit, something about me not being fun while sober.”

“Your plenty fun while sober” You gruff.

He chortles at that.

“She didn’t think so. Whatever that relationship was it was built to benefit her more than anything else”

“Do you still think about her?” You ask carefully.

“I think…I think I’m passing the angry stage right now. Wondering why I let her do that to me”

“That stage never truly goes away. I still cringe at some of my older relationships, but I think you come to terms with it. Eventually”

He smiles at that, a dazed upturn. He’s looking at you but he’s somewhere else, not fully registering you as a unit. You wonder if you should try to bring him back to earth, but he snaps out of it himself as you shift to sit up.

He immediately jumps to his feet, letting out a yelp as he stretches his limbs.

“OKAY! Enough sulking, up, come on”

His hands clasp yours in a tight grip as he yanks you up from your seat before you can even register what he’s doing. An arm is slung around your shoulders as he pulls you away to continue walking on the path. The change in mood is sudden, but infectious as he begins to talk about the carnival that opened up somewhere nearby.

“There’s this shaved ice place I wanna try” he says as he tugs you, arm still tightly holding you by the neck.

“We just ate” There’s a strain in your voice as you smack his arm in a futile attempt to get him to loosen his grip.

“Always room for dessert. All that emotional talk burnt everything off anyway, I got room”

That’s how you end up taking pictures of Soonyoung in front of a setting sun, after he’s full of shaved ice and endless rounds of the claw game. He rage quit at his fifth try.

He drops you off home, not before thanking you for both helping him and lending a listening ear.

He wouldn't leave until you walked inside and sent him a text.

Once you're settled in your bed, ready to pass out, your phone dings at a notification.

[@ho5hi_kwon tagged you in a post]

It’s the pictures you took today, you realise as you swipe through the entire collection.

There’re pictures of your shaved ice bowls, a couple subsequent ones of you skipping down the boardwalk, a couple of the river and the illuminated Ferris wheel.

You keep flipping through them all with a stupid smile, vaguely aware that this looked sickeningly like a date.

You’re back to looking at the first photo of the collection, the one you took of him backlit by the sunset.

It’s a shot of his back as he looks over his shoulder, soft smile out to work. He isn’t looking directly at the camera, gaze directed to the person behind the shot. His loss of focus owed to your (unnecessary) hype commentary, something you did for all your friends while taking their pictures.

There's a knead in your stomach as you’re unable to tear away from his eyes. He looked beautiful.

Stay until the sunsets

The very apparent suggestions of the entire post, and now the caption, make you wonder if you’re alone in what you feel.

Setting your phone down on your chest, you opt to stare at the ceiling, needing a blank stimulus for your thoughts. You knew what all that turmoil in your stomach was about, and it had been brewing for a while.

Setting foot on the thought of a possible crush on your ex-best friend’s ex-boyfriend was enough to make you question if you had truly lost your mind.

***

It was the end of the semester, and you were itching to go out and do something after finals. The invitation text was enough for Alyssa to plop herself in front of your dresser to do her makeup while you sift through your wardrobe for an acceptable ensemble.

“How’s this?” You pull out a brown satin dress, holding it up to your frame for her to see.

Peering over her compact, she gives you a look. “Y/n, this is a party not a brunch date with Soonyoung”

That has you sputtering at the thought, “Brunch?”

“Yes. With Soonyoung” The haughty look on her face is taunting. And it’s working. “Don’t look at me like that, like you haven’t been having carnival dates with him”

You attempt to regain your posture, “I was helping him with work at the library”

“Didn’t know the library offers shaved ice and views from a dock”

“We went to the carnival later, he wanted shaved ice and we came right back home, it’s normal” You reason, shoving the dress back onto then clothing rod and sifting around for something else.

“Oh yes, and the candid pictures and suggestive captions are all very platonic. Silly me”

You only sigh in response, not wanting to start this conversation.

“What about this one?” It’s another earned scoff from Alyssa. She sets down her lash curler and walks over to your wardrobe, shunning you away.

“Go get started on your makeup, I’ll find something that’s not ‘mom’s summer day out’”

Ever since the topic was touched, it’s the only thing that’s on your mind. You were suddenly hyper aware of your relationship with Soonyoung, if Alyssa was getting the wrong idea, how many others were? What about Soonyoung, was he being pestered with the same questions? Would he start avoiding you if it gets too much? It’s the only natural course of action if he doesn’t feel the same way. Of course, he doesn’t feel the same way, you doubt he’d be quick to jump into anything after the dumpster fire that was his last relationship, let alone jump into anything with you.

There’s a yank at your chair as you’re dragged around, snapping out of your thoughts.

“What-”

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or not?” It’s Alyssa, stern and determined, who’s pulled you to face her at the edge of the bed.

The automatic response is to be defensive, but that quickly fades as you realize how tired you were about mulling over this alone. You drop your hands in defeat.

“I may like Soonyoung” You mumble, picking at your nails.

“Now was that so hard to admit?”

“Yes? Do I need to remind you-” You start.

“I know, I know” She stops you, “I get it”

Sigh in response, you want nothing more than to cut off whatever part of your brain landed you in this predicament.

“Do you really like him?” She asks carefully.

“No? Yes? I don’t know. I don’t even know if I should go to this stupid party, he’s gonna be there and it’s gonna make it worse. I need to get rid of whatever the fuck this feeling is and being around him isn’t gonna help”

“Nonsense, you’re going to this party. You owe it to yourself, don’t let what you think is wrong hold you back from having fun”

She moves to hold up a dress and a matching jacket.

“This with those boots you bought” She giggles, “Isn’t it cute?”

“Girl, have you been outside this past week, I'll melt in that”

“Oh please, you run cold anyway. You can lose the jacket when it gets warm and show off those smexy shoulders” She throws the ensemble on the bed runs out the room to find your shoes.

“Oh, you’re gonna have him hands and knees!" She yells from the hallway.

"I'm not wearing it if that's the goal"

"The goal" she drags, emerging into the room with tall boots in hand, "is to make you feel hot as fuck. The rest will unfold on its own"

You sit back down on your dresser and stare at the disarray that is your entire makeup collection.

"Do you need me to cake your face too?"

You're quick to deny as you try to find the primer bottle.

"Kay, I'm gonna do my hair. It's about to get loud"

Good, you thought. Maybe it'll drown out your thoughts. Maybe you need to stop thinking about him entirely, if he’s not in your thoughts he should move out of your heart too.

Failure is instantaneous as your phone dings and you find a text from the devil himself.

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: are you gonna be at Cheol's tonight?

[You]: yup I'll be there

[You]: I'm getting ready rn

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: What’re you wearing

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: I wanna match :(

Your phone is slammed onto the table as soon as you read the text.

He’s insane.

You vaguely register the blare of the hair dryer going silent, too focused on whatever that last text was.

“What? What is it? Did he text you? Why’d you hit the table?” A string of questions pour from Alyssa’s mouth as she walks over to you and picks up your phone to see what caused your explosive reaction.

“Are you seriously upset?! This is amazing! Tell him, oh my god”

You snatch the phone back from her vice grip, pointedly ignoring the elation on her face.

“Your hair looks like you got zapped, go fix it” You snap, trying to waive her off.

“Shut up, tell him! Actually wait no, tell him the colour and that’s it, can’t be too cooperative. He has to want you more before you start shimmying back”

The initial stagger of his sheer forwardness was now replaced by the urge to throttle your friend. She notices the exhausted expression.

“No, you’re not allowed to look at me like that when his name on your phone is - that” She retorts

“That was him!” You defend.

“Whatever! Just tell him the goddamn colour before I do it myself”

***

Your still warming up to the crowd as you talk to Seungkwan in the living room over a glass of whatever he handed you when you walked in. Alyssa waited no time to rally both him and Joshua to update them on your heartfelt matters, to which they were just as insufferable as the only other person you’d told.

Joshua and Alyssa had long disappeared finding other people in the crowd, promising they’d be back with updates.

What of, you guess you’ll find out.

“You're anxious, aren’t you?” Seungkwan asks, a little smirk playing on his lips.

“Can you blame me?” You sigh, leaning into the sofa, “Why couldn’t it have been literally anyone else?”

“You can’t control that, and Soonyoung’s a good guy, better than most of the assholes out for blood” He takes a sip from his cup, “You’re skeptical because of a previous situation and that's it. There’s nothing wrong with how you feel”

You don’t have chance to reply as you hear an all too familiar laugh tinkle in the midst of the chaos.

Seungkwan must’ve felt you stiffen, his hand immediately coming up to grab your arm in a attempt to ground you.

You can only close your eyes and breathe in another deep, deep sigh.

“You don’t care” Seungkwan affirms in your ear.

He’s right.

You don’t care.

Opening your eyes, you sit up a little straighter, choosing to ignore owner of the voice.

You’re not sure how, but you didn’t anticipate the fact that Jennie would be here too. Of course she would, everyone is here.

“I’m fine”

He could tell that you were. You felt proud of that.

“For the record, you look hotter than her”

You snort at the statment and his aggravated expression, assuming he saw her over your shoulder.

“Thanks, I guess”

“I’m serious, anyone’s ugly with a personality like that”

“Alyssa said the same thing”

“Alyssa’s smart”

“Should I call him and ask where he is?” you finally voice the urge that’s been circulating for the 30 minutes you’ve been here.

He begins to laugh at that before another thing catches his eye behind you.

“Don’t have to. He’s right there”

You turn around on instinct wish Seungkwan hadn’t seen him.

Soonyoung was mid confrontation with Jennie over the open kitchen island.

It looks like a serious conversation, neither of them looking like they’re having too much fun in each other’s company.

You aren’t sure if you’re deluding yourself into thinking they hate each other. For your own sake.

Soonyoung’s gaze wanders and locks directly with yours across the room. He stills for a second before removing his stare. He’s nodding to something Jennie is saying.

You can’t help but feel small at the sight. For some reason, it projected you back to before all of this happened. To when you and Jennie were still friends and she was still dating Soonyoung. It’s knives straight to your gut as you realise how similar this is becoming to a time you don’t want to return to.

The sight of them together is familiar.

And you hate it.

It makes you want to vomit all over the floor, halt whatever was happening and give you an excuse to go home and stay there forever.

You hate how good he looks, keeping to his promise to match with you. The black bomber jacket fits him well, sunglsses perched on his head despite it being past 8 PM. He’s taken the time and slicked his hair back today, and it suits him too well for you to look at him for too long.

You turn back to Seungkwan, and you’re expression must’ve alarmed him because he’s quick to pull you up to lead you to the outside patio.

You land on yet another couch, except this time it’s beside the pool where you can already see Mingyu trying to drown Joshua in the deep end.

“Y/n! Seungkwan! Hi!” Mingyu waves from the end, looking excited to see you.

You can’t help but smile at his bright greeting as you wave back.

Seungkwans snapping pictures of his bright smile as he simultaneously shoves Josh’s head into the water. It’s a funny sight, one that makes you feel better immediately.

“He’s not gonna go back to her” Seungkwan low tones in your ear.

You open your mouth and close it again.

“I know. It’s just-”

“A lot? I know, but he’s gone through hell because of that woman, I also know every second spent with her is one he’d rather be literally anywhere else. I also also know that you already knew that but I needed to make sure you understood that she is not a problem anymore”

You nod your head as you smile and lean into Seungkwan’s shoulder.

The sickening feeling hasn't gone away entirely, but you choose to turn your attention to how happy you feel with your friends.

Joshua’s somehow overtaken and is trying drown Mingyu instead, Seokmin’s in the corner shooting waterguns to help.

You notice Alyssa sitting on the double swing right across, talking to a blond haired individual. The lovesick smile that’s plastered on her face is enough to inform you that this must be Jeonghan.

Soonyoung steps out into the patio after a little bit, eyes searching.

You shoot up from Seungkwan’s shoulder at the sight of him, suddenly conscious about how your hair looks from the humidity.

As he plops down next to you, one arm over the headrest behind you and one between his parted legs, he lets out a loud sigh. You briefly wonder why he always looks like a different shade of exhausted every time you see him.

“She just apologized” He announces, head thrown back.

Both you and Seungkwan are suddenly sitting up at attention, giving each other a look before settling your eyes back on Soonyoung urging him to continue.

“What do you mean she apologized?” You breath in disbelief.

“I don’t know, something about how she realised her mistakes and whatnot” He rubs his face with his hands like he’s trying to rub away the image of her “She might come for you next, a warning I guess”

“Oh” is all you can say, still a little conflicted over what this could mean.

“I came here to have a good time and first thing I see when I walk in is her” He spits, “Whatever, I don’t care, I’m not thinking about it”

Seungkwan pushes over his drink to him, “I didn’t poison it, it’ll help”

He accepts the cup and downs the rest of the contents, to which you realise you’d barely touched your own cup since you got here. Not in the mood to drink, you hand your cup over to Soonyoung as well, to which the contents suffer the same demise.

Just as he’s putting his cup down, a stray Mingyu creeps up on Seungkwan and pulls him into a run straight into the pool. He only half succeeds as it results in yet another cat fight on the edge of the pool.

That left you two alone.

Tearing your eyes away from the live WWE match, you look over to see Soonyoung laughing at his friends’ antics, exhaustion faded as he finds joy in watching the scene. It’s a pretty sound, his laugh, a genuine sound. The way his eyes form crescent moons, and his lips break out into the prettiest shape; everything about him is endearing. You note the tiger patch on the sleeve of his jacket, assuming he attached it himself considering the slightly peeling corners. You could fix it for him.

Sub-consciusly, you find yourself reaching out and touching the patch, pushing it into his sleeve as though it could reattach itself with nothing.

Soonyoung notices your contact, and asks you inquisitively.

“Is the patch coming off?”

“Almost”

He lets out a sound of annoyance, “I only put it on last week”

“You can give it to me later, I can fix it and give it back”

“Really? I have a few more I wanna put on there too. The instructions are so vague I can never do them right”

The party was a tame one, with no other hiccups after that. Jennie did not come over to speak to you, nor did you see her for the rest of the night, you might’ve even forgotten she was there in the first place. Despite the low beat gathering, you felt refreshed after spending time with your friends, head clearer than it had been for weeks.

This also meant you were almost entirely sure that your crush was turning into a full blown pulverization.

It irritated you that these feelings were springing out of seemingly nothing. Kwon Soonyoung was remarkable, but nothing was done in a way that swept you off your feet in a single instance. A crawl, you’d describe it, a slow prowl in the back of your mind, building momentum slowly but surely.

You left that party with Kwon Soonyoung’s jacket, and questions for yourself as to why you offered to even do this when your goal was to avoid him.

***

You’re standing in front of your ironing board, with another plethora of patches that he had given you to attach. He’d given you free reign on how you wanted to do it but you wondered how much freedom you really had considering almost all of them were tiger themed in one way or another.

His friends entertained him regarding his tiger agenda, but you wonder how fitting it is considering the way he’d been circling your feelings like they were this damned animal’s prey.

Without realisng it, you’d been staring at the blaring orange patches and jacket on the board for a solid 20 minutes, lost in thoughts of Soonyoung and his ferocious ways to pull you under.

The pieces were doing nothing to your freshly awoken mind but have you think about him even more, so you chose sanity and decided you’d get back to it when you can control your train of thought.

Soonyoung, however, refuses to let you forget him as you hear a ring come from inside your room. It stops ringing before you can pick it up and you realise he both called and texted just minutes ago.

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: haiii

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: are you awake yet?

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]:did you put the patches on

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: does it look good

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: can i see

[You]: You called

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: yeah cuz you wouldn’t answer 🤬

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: answer my texts

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: where did you again

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: do you not lurve me anymore 😞

[You]: oh my god

[You]: dude its been barely 5 minutes since your first text

[You]: i have a life yk

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]:ok ya thats great

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: patches????jacket????????

[You]: i haven’t gotten to it yet i just woke up

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: GASP

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]:CAN I COME OVER AND WATCH YOU DO IT

Any remnants of fatigue from the night before evaporates as soon as you read the text.

[You]: Aren’t you like

[You]: hungover asf rn

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: not really

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: i dint have too much other than whatever you gave me

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]:was that even alcohol lol

[You]: idk Kwan just handed it to me

[You]: but yeah you can come over if you want

[You]: i was about to start working on it anyway

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: YAY

[Soonyoungie 🐯🐯🐯🐯]: be there in 20 :3

Setting your phone down on the bed, you give yourself a couple minutes to close your eyes and think about what you just agreed to.

You want him here, of course you do. Your feelings were starting to bud into the attachment phase, where the heavy feeling would settle in your stomach when he wasn’t there. You hated how you needed his presence to feel like you could function.

You hate how much he effects you.

And despite how much you hate it, you find yourself getting up and wanting to make yourself look pretty. If pretty meant looking anything other than your just-woke-up hair and borderline no bottoms, you opted for one of your nicer lounge sets and brushing out your hair. This was you forcing yourself to draw a line of normalcy, you needed to put effort to not put effort in at all.

It occurs to you that this might be the first time you’re restraining yourself, not because you don’t want to scare someone away, but more to keep you from overstepping within your own bounds. Every love interest in your life brought about a vigor in you, wanting to do everything to appeal to them and to appeal to yourself.

This time was different. This time had you feel abhorrent towards your own feelings, for a reason that the universe molded to spring from a person most sensitive to you. And ironically, you realise these feelings may be stronger than any you’ve felt before.

By the time Soonyoung is here and sitting on the rugged floor in front of all the fabric, you’ve pushed the thoughts aside and focused on being happy in front of him.

You plug in the iron while you both try to find the right places for the patches, trying to decide what looks best.

“How’s here?” You put up a T shaped patch with a tiger surrounding it a little below the breast pocket.

“Oh, I like that. This can go there then, that’ll fit”

Trying not to think too much about how many times your fingers brushed with his while you shuffled the patches around the same jacket.

“And then you flip it over and run the iron for a little bit more” You instruct, glancing up at him to see if he understood.

You wish you hadn’t because because you realise then and there that Kwon Soonyoung has the most adorable concentration face you have ever seen. Wanting nothing more than to squish his cheeks together, you control yourself by forcefully retracting, probably a little too abruptly to be considered normal.

Thankfully, he doesn’t notice, too busy trying to do exactly as you instructed.

“Do I stop now?” He looks up and catches you staring at him intensely.

You realise you’ve been caught in the act and try to cover it up by moving forward and fumble with the fabric.

“Uh, we can check” you’re frantically lifting the fabric, touching it slightly trying not to burn yourself. “I think it’s good, yeah. Where’s the other one we can do that one now”

It might be you lying to yourself that he hadn’t noticed your heart eyes in a sub-conscious attempt to keep your cool around him, but you can’t be sure he’s not feeling just as awkward as you right now.

“Where do you even find this many tiger related patches from,” you start, in an attempt to diffuse the silence “I mean, unless it’s a hobby”

“I had a couple given to me by friends and stuff but most of them I bought at this sunday flea market” he looks up at you to continue, “It’s a really good flea market they’ve got loads of good junk, I’ll take you one of these days”

The prospect of going to the flea market with Soonyoung, especially when he says he’s going to take you is already sending off the flurry of butterflies (could be raccoons too, considering the frat party happening in your stomach).

“The patches thing isn’t really a hobby though, I think my shit job at the first one says so. It’s just the tigers really” He finishes, a slight mumble in his voice.

“They’re cute” you comment offhandedly, not missing the way his face lights up as you say that.

“Really? I mean tigers are cool, they’ve always been cool. They’re cute too, I guess”

You smile at his childish enthusiasm. You hadn’t lied, they were cute.

“Yeah, they complement the jacket too. You’ve just made a one of a kind, Kwon Soonyoung” you hold up the finished jacket, urging him to get up so he can try it on himself.

You watch him as he stares at himself and the jacket in the full length mirror, admiring his and your’s handiwork.

He waddles around to turn to you with the excitement of a child showing off their new outfit.

“Does it look good?” you almost cry at how adorable he sounds as he asks you the sincere question. As much as you’d like to fawn, you must exercise self control.

“Mhm, it really does look good. This was a good idea”

By the time you’re done cleaning up and Soonyoung has hung his jacket on an actual hanger, you suggest a bite to eat, considering how you hadn’t fed yourself since you woke up.

“Oh! Can you make that pesto salad too, that one you made that day it was really good”

You are but a puddle against his pleading eyes (that may not have been pleading that much you just think his eyes are pretty).

He’s determined to help you though, boiling the pasta, measuring the rice, asking for the nth time if “this much okay?”.

By the time you both had eaten and washed up, it was late afternoon and you were rummaging through your snack bins while Soonyoung flicked to find a movie to watch.

When you re-emerge into the living room, arms brick-and-mortared with snacks and drinks, you realise Soonyoung had picked a horror movie.

That’s not good. For you at least.

Don’t get it twisted, you weren’t one to lack valor, but you’d argue that horror movies were where you draw the line.

Dumping your arms load on the coffee table, you wonder if you should say something.

“Jeonghan said this was a good one, apparently he’s watched every horror movie in existence” He opens a can of whatever he finds on the table and cracks it open, you aren’t paying too close attention to what it is though, too busy trying to figure a way out of what’s going to become a literal night of horrors for you.

"Oh, didn't know that"

"course you didn't, wasn't this your first time meeting him?"

You want to thank him for making you look stupid.

"Right" you correct yourself, "Alyssa's always talking about him, it feels like I've known him forever"

He seems to accept that, which means you may have played it off.

But he also looks like he's about to press play on the trailer of the movie, like a sick taster for whatever was to come.

"Um, what's the movie about, again" you start, pretending to rummage through snacks even though you had no room after eating just before this.

"These things never really have a plot do they? It's just supposed to make you shit your pants anyway"

You laugh weakly at that, feeling a little sticky in your armpits, wondering if it was really getting as hot as you felt.

Trying to look at the bottom corner of the screen the entire time Soonyoung is assessing the trailer was a conscious effort, not wanting him to notice your lack of attention if you stare at anything other than the screen.

Pulling the blanket up to your chin as you settle into the couch beside him, you wonder how weirded out he'll get if you keep your head in the blanket the entire time.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks, noticing your incessant shuffling beside him.

"Yeah, yeah. Why'd you ask?" you're avoiding looking directly at him, like he could detect your blatant lies if you made eye contact.

"Do you wanna watch something else?”

“I don’t know, does the trailer look good?”

“You tell me, you just watched it too”

Right.

“I liked it”

You must’ve been believable, because it’s only a second later that he’s pressing play on the actual movie.

“I’ll get the lights”

You don’t have the energy to tell him you’d do it yourself as he gets up to switch off the lights, knowing for a fact your mother would have your head for allowing a guest do something while you were seated.

You had other worries, like how you were going to get through this movies without making yourself look like a wuss. You were fine for the first 10 minutes as the family moves into their new home, happy times as the kids settled into their rooms.

Soonyoung hadn’t spoken a word to you, too engrossed in his pack of chips and the movie playing.

So far so good.

You even briefly wonder what it’d be like to lean into his side as the movie progressed, but the thought is cut short as the first (somewhat) jumpscare has you flinching slightly.

That grabs his attention, realising you were flinching at the screen itself.

“Do you not like horror movies? Wait, fuck, I should’ve realised. We should watch something else-” He’s already reaching for the remote before you’re grabbing his stretched arm with both of your own hands.

“No, no, no. I like them, I’m just kinda jumpy with stuff like this. But it’s fun for me, like I like it, please”

“Bullshit”

“Soonyoung! I want to watch this movie”, you borderline yell.

He gives up for reaching for the remote and lets your hands bring him back in.

“You’re lying to me”, he says, a low register to his voice.

“Will you pretend I’m not?” you're still clutching his hands in a death grip, like he might lunge for the remote again.

It's silent for a minute, air thick. It was quite silly in hindsight, getting so worked up about picking a movie.

The gears are turning in his head, that much you can tell. You can only assume he's trying to refute somehow, but you've hit him with an emotional line. He's gonna have a hard time winning this one.

"Can I hold you then? To make you feel better"

He might as well have plowed his fists through your chest with the way the air is knocked out of them.

“Okay”

You need to put your mouth on a leash.

“Can I play it now?” He asks carefully, looking at you carefully.

“Yeah”

“Hon, you need to let go of my hands so I can do that”

You let go of his hands immediately, your own hands coming back up to your chest as you register that other feat of embarrassment.

He smiles as he reaches for the remote to resume the movie, and coming back to settle next to you.

Pulling away the blanket from his side, he beckons you to come closer to share it.

Scooching over slightly, he throws the blanket on so it covers both of you, paying attention to tuck it in to your sides.

When he’s done he throws an arm around and pulls you into him closer.

Leaning into you he says, “Relax, I won’t bite you”

So you do. You attempt to loosen the tension in your body as you let yourself fully mold into his side, hoping you were natural enough.

His attention is back on the movie, and yours is anywhere but. He smells like fresh linen and fabric softener, mixed with what you think is his perfume. Laundry soaps have never smelled this good.

You’re hyperaware of how his body is contracting and relaxing, how his fingers rest on your shoulders.

You debate on whether you should put your head on his shoulder. It was right there, ready for a lonely head to take refuge in.

Fuck it, I’ve come this far. Might as well.

With your head rested on his shoulder, arm wrapped around you and body engulfed in a blanket; you feel warm, the nice kind.

You’re attention, however, is diverted as you register the slowly daunting sound effects and cautious characters on the screen. Groaning internally, knowing full well what was coming, you bring the blanket up closer to your face, eyes already darting away in precaution.

What you also notice is how Soonyoung’s other hand makes its way on to your head to pat it slightly. You appreciate it though, it gives you more blockage. Your eyes are closed as an added measure when the inevitable jumpscare happens but you still flinch at the roar of the speakers.

Curse this movie and its amazing sound technicians.

By the time the movie’s over you’ve muscled through a few more jolts, more, if you count the last 20 minutes you spent with your head entirely under the blanket. Bless Soonyoung and his encouraging pats.

When you’ve finally emerged out of your hiding place as the end credits rolled, you inhale sharply as your back hits the sofa once more.

“Well” Soonyoung starts, “That was fun”

“Yes”, you breathe out as you turn to him, an exasperated smile on your face.

By the time you’re done cleaning up the hoard of snack wrappers and sprayed the room so it wouldn’t smell like cheese puffs, Soonyoung announces that he’s going to take his leave.

“Stay” you blurt out as soon as he says so. “Stay until dinner, we can go out if you want. Or we could ask the rest of them if they’re not busy we can all get together. But stay, you don’t have anywhere to be, do you?”

“I mean, I’ve been here forever, don’t you have plans” He asks sheepishly.

“Bold of you to assume I’d have two days of plans, back to back” you reply, earning you a snort from him.

“Regardless, I was gonna go to the studio to warm up for a couple hours.” he says, “If you don’t have plans, do you wanna come with? I mean, the advice you gave last time you came with Kwan actually worked. Could use your input”

“So I’m only being asked because you want input?”

“No! I mean, it’ll be fun, I could teach you too. I didn’t mean it like-” his eyes have gone wide slightly, hand coming up in defense.

You laugh at his defense, “I’m kidding. Wait here, I’ll go change. It’ll only be a minute”

***

By the time he’s warmed up the both of you with his endless stretches, you’re already panting.

“Okay, there’s this thing I’ve been working on. If we finish it today, how about we film it?” Soonyoung asks, walking over to the music controls.

“Film it? Film it for what?” you whip your head around.

“Insta, or something. I post a lot of them there, it’s like an archive”

“A portfolio you mean?”

“If having pictures of me posing also counts as appropriate in a dance portfolio, sure let’s call it that”

By the time he’s shown you what he’s been working on so far, you’re left wondering what impression you’ve given him to think this was doable for you.

“Um” you want to tell him he’s overestimated your abilities, but your cut off.

“No I’m not hearing it, up! Right now!” And he’s grabbing you by the arms to pull you up. You’re vaguely reminded how he did this by the river too a few weeks ago.

“It just looks hard, it’s not really. You’ll be fine” He promptly lets go, running to turn off the music loop.

You feel a little stupid as you try to mimic his moves. It’s not that he’s a bad teacher, he’s actually explaining it quite well, but they just don’t seem to fit your natural movements. He evens tops what he’s doing at one point and walks over to yank your shoulders back and stiffen your head up.

“You’re not relaxed, you need to stop thinking so much about it, just do.”

“Didn’t know I was taking dance lessons from Plato” you grumble.

As annoyed as you were, his advice was working. Soon you were more than halfway done, moving through each move faster and faster.

“And that’s it” he announces, “we’ll refine it a bit and then we can film”

It took you a few takes but you came to one you were happy with. He may have managed to get you to film with him but you bargained for the dimmed lights to shadow your face; alas your embarrassment is only human.

In bed, you watch the final cut he posted on his social media. You can barely watch the whole thing through before you’re switching off your phone entirely to set it where you can’t reach.

***

“Y/n, it’s literally impossible for you to know that” Alyssa exclaims.

“No it’s not. Common sense if you ask me” you reply.

“How do you know that Hoshi is not as love with you you are with him”

“Alyssa, I’m not having this conversation with you in the middle of a supermarket” you snap, throwing a bag of spinach in the cart she’s pushing behind you.

“Then when? When he’s moved on and found someone else because you wouldn’t fess up? When they move in together? When they get married? Have children!?”

Halting in your tracks, theres a vivid image of Soonyoung in a tux with a faceless woman at the alter, smiles and joy. Shaking it off, you stalk to the next aisle faster than your friend can catch up.

“Miss ma’am, do not fucking run away from me” she barks as she parks next to you in the sauce aisle. “You’re deluding yourself into thinking you have a reason to not confront him because you’re scared of your own feelings”

“Didn’t have to get that deep in front of the bechamel” you pose a sad face next ot the jar before chucking it in the cart.

Alyssa groans a dramatic sigh, you simply move on to the ginger and garlic pastes.

“The bechamel wants you to confess” she says, voice muffled with her head down on the handles of the cart.

“The bechamel wants me to be sensible”

“You’re stubborn with absolutely nothing but this, what’s it going to take”

“I don’t know Alyssa. I don’t know”

“The bechamel would also like to know why you feel the need to loiter around other people’s exes?”

You watch Alyssa’s face go sour at the person behind you. Turning around to confront the familiar voice, meeting with a sickly sweet smile and mocking eyes.

“Oh sorry, am I overstepping”, Jennie feigns a concerned voice before switiching, “Oh wait, no, that was you”

“I’d suggest the candy aisle if you’re gonna be a child about this” Alyssa rolls her eyes as she puts on the bitchiest face you’ve ever seen. You liked it.

“I don’t answer to you, Jennie. If you have a problem with me doing anything then too bad. And I’d really appreciate you quit playing ‘mean girl’ it’s not cute” You say calmly, you were not about to punch someone in the middle of a supermarket.

“Can’t believe I was about to try to make up with you. My bad, you won’t hear from me again, don’t worry about it”

With that she turns around and leaves the aisle, leaving you a little speechless.

You almost think she was mirage with how quickly she dropped in and out, not without throwing a couple on brand commentary.

“Does this bitch think she’s in some Hollywood movie, what was with the faces” Alyssa rants as she helps you unpack groceries in your kitchen.

“God, you were so right about that mean girl thing, she probably thinks she’s so cool” She turns around and makes a very apparent gagging motion. “You’d think we’re in middle school or something -”

“I’m gonna tell him how I feel” you announce, dropping the bag of spaghetti and turning around to face her.

That shuts her up, very quickly too.

“Come again” she whispers.

Shifting your weight on your other leg you exhale loudly, not wanting to make eye contact.

“I’m gonna tell Soonyoung that I like him” you reiterate slowly, more for yourself than her.

“Are you serious? You’re not joking right?” She’s dropped everything and come up to grab your arms.

“It’s probably good that I saw her today, I think she meant to discourage me but it just…did the opposite”

“When’re you gonna do it?”

“Um” you fiddle with your fingers, “When the times right, I guess”

“Vague. But I can’t even be mad about it right now” she claps her hands together, “Oh I’m so excited for you”

“Are you crying?”

“No. They’re just glazed. Like a donut.”

“Like a donut?”

“Like a donut”

You let out a chortle before turning back to put away the rest of your groceries.

It was becoming increasingly obvious of your lack of self control around Soonyoung, going against your own words of distance. Today’s altercation was a crude reminder of exactly why you started avoiding Jennie in the first place, and after all these months, you’d fallen back into the habit of allowing her to control you. The only thing holding you back from Soonyoung was Jennie, despite the lack of physical existence.

Both you and Soonyoung had changed, Jennie was still in the same place.

***

The next time you see Soonyoung, he’s an awful lot touchier than normal. He’s tipsy, so of course he is. But with a confession looming in your mind, it’s natural for you to be hypersensitive.

You’re sitting in the big house your friends had rented to celebrate the end summer season, out in the yard on the grass getting drunk and talking nonsense. The weather was beautiful, minus the mess that had become of dinner plates and drinking glasses strewn across the grass.

Soonyoung had slowly progressed from head on your shoulder, to full on back hug, to eventually lie down completely on your lap.

That didn’t stop him form positively belting whatever song Sengkwan and Jeonghan were karaoke-ing though, not wanting to miss out on anything if he went to bed inside to retire.

It was shocking how easily Jeonghan welded into the group beyond his relationship with Alyssa, one not to go amiss by Soonyoung.

He turns around on his back so he’s looking up at you.

“Are Alyssa and Jeonghan dating or are they just getting there?” He asks bluntly, probably a little louder than socially acceptable.

Jeonghan was too busy belting with Alyssa filming him, so it didn’t catch their ears at the very least.

“They made it official a couple months ago, she asked him out first because of that bet with Kwan. But he popped the real question”

“Cuties” he mumbles, turning around to look at them. “I think I wanna go to bed now”

“Come on, I’ll tuck you in” you say as he rolls off your lap and faceplants on the grass.

“I’ll sleep here”

“You’re gonna wake up as a mosquito warzone, get up!” you chide, hands under his armpits in futile attempts to pull him up.

He only hums in response, and you’re afraid he’s already falling asleep.

Dropping back down on your knees, you whisper in his ear.

“Come on, you need to brush your teeth too. And change out of this sweaty thing, you can’t sleep like this”

It takes a bit more coaxing before he slowly begins to get up, sitting on his knees looking blank for a couple minutes. By the time you’ve bumped into several decor pieces inside the house and to his bedroom, you’re thanking god he didn’t decide to room upstairs. You plop on the bed in exhaustion, having to support him so he wouldn’t walk into a garbage chute.

He’s surprisingly quick to change into his pyjamas, although it took a little more force to get him to brush his teeth, not even thinking about attempting to get him to wash his face.

“Night, Hosh” you’re about to turn out the light when he jolts up from his position from under the blankets.

“Wait!” he says, “Stay here”

“Soonyoung you need to sleep to sober up” you reply.

“I don’t wanna sober up” he pouts.

You sigh as you walk over to his bed and plant yourself at the edge. “But you’re sleepy”

He chooses to ignore you and changes the subject, “Y/n, do you like me?”

What the fuck.

“Of course I like you. Wouldn’t hang around you so much if I didn’t” you reply, not sure how you managed that.

“Oh’.

If you weren’t lying to yourself, you could’ve sworn you saw his face fall a little.

It’s silent for a few seconds before you start again, “Will you go to sleep now?”

He nods his head slowly this time, still staring blankly at the sheets.

So you get up, turn out the lights and begin walking back to where you can hear the rest of your friends’ chatter.

Thumping coming from behind you has you turning around in an instant, your fight or flight trying to understand what burglar was trying to attack you.

What you don’t expect to see is a fully awake Soonyoung stomping over to meet you in the middle.

“I thought I put you in bed” you smile, trying to understand what the change in mood was now.

He ignores you again, and goes straight to the bite.

“Can I kiss you?”

There’s a blank stare on your face as you attempt to register the meaning behind his words.

Kwon Soonyoung had asked to kiss you.

Before you start drooling, you move your head slowly in a fashion that you hope came off as a nod.

It had to have, because the next second, Soonyoung’s lips were on yours.

One hand holding your face and the other pulling you closer into him, he kisses you softly and slowly.

Shaking hands come to touch his own face as you focus on the delicate feeling of his lips and reciprocating.

Pulling away, but just enough that your lips still touch and your breathing into each others mouths, you move back in and kiss him harder. His hands are moving everywhere now, groping you at your waist, your hips, your shoulders.

His tongue is doing beautiful things in your mouth and you hope you can get through it before your knees give out from under you.

You pull away this time, and he immediately moves to kiss down your jaw, moving towards your neck. He’s starting to lose himself there as you reign him in.

“Soonyoung, Soonyoung. Hoshi!” you exclaim, voice breathy and panting. “You’re drunk”

He stops his antics, but his mouth is still pressed into your neck as he brreathes you in.

“Lay with me” he croaks out eventually.

And you do. You follow him back to his room, allowing him to get comfortable as you settle in beside him, not caring that you were still in your day clothes and makeup.

You didn’t care, you let yourself hug him tight as your head rested between his neck and shoulder. There was calm; the buzzing in your head stopping as you let yourself melt into his arms.

Your friends would eventually come inside, only find you both tangled in each other’s limbs, sound asleep.

***

The bed is empty once you wake up, not thinking anything of it as you clamp your eyes back shut and try to go back to sleep again. You’ve almost lulled yourself back to dreamland when a jolting recollection comes back to you. Snapping your eyes open again, you push yourself up on your hands, looking around the room. You see the unmistakable tiger phone case on the nightstand and realise last night was not, in fact, an intoxicated fever dream.

The water is running in the attached bathroom, and with no roommate, you can only assume Soonyoung is in there.

Falling back down on the mattress, you attempt to stretch to clear yourself of fatigue, checking Soonyoung’s phone on the nightstand that read a blaring 2:33 PM.

Rubbing your eyes and consciously getting rid of the crusties, you’re suddenly very aware of how horrible your breath smells.

Soonyoung’s emerging from the bathroom before you can find a solution, hair wet from a shower and (thankfully) clothed in a Tee and shorts.

“Afternoon” he grins in greeting, moving over to place an unexpected kiss on your chapped lips.

“I have to pee” you say as you hastily get up and shuffle to the bathroom.

Soonyoung is sitting in the same spot when you emerge after a minute, “Can you get me my toothbrush from my room? It’s the purple one”

His eyes widen as he springs up immediately, “Yeah, give me a sec”

Disappearing back into the bathroom once he gets your toothbrush, you sit on the toilet cover and try to gain your bearings.

His good afternoon kiss told you he had recollection of the night before; one less thing to mull over.

Springing up from the seat, your quick to start brushing your teeth with more force than actually required. You were going to let whatever happens, happen. No more thinking.

Drying yourself off you emerge back into the room and sit next to Soonyoung on the bed.

“Do you…” he trails off, “Do you not wanna talk about it? Because I get it if you don’t cuz you haven’t said anything yet and I kinda realised maybe I overstepped and-”

You cut him off by leaning in and placing another soft peck on his lips.

“You asked before you did anything and I agreed. That’s not overstepping. I just can’t talk with morning breath, sorry” you breathe out a laugh.

“Oh” he starts laughing too.

“Do we have to do the walk of shame to the kitchen now? I’d delay it but I’m kinda dying for coffee and an advil”

He brings your face in his hands and plants another kiss on your mouth, “They’re all still passed out”

“Perfect” you mumble against his lips, not being able to hold back your giggles.

He leads you into the kitchen, hand in hand, stopping in front of the cabinets for a solid minute. You stand there with him, wondering why he was so silent. He snaps out of it remembering you were here for food and finally turns around to ask you what you wanted.

You could only laugh at his lost expression, still slightly sleepy despite the mid afternoon sun clock.

“I don’t have energy, let’s just do cereal” you say, moving to get the bowls out of the cabinets.

“Nuh huh” he says, “You sit down on the counter. I will make you the best bowl of cereal this nation has ever seen”

You give him a look, but sit down at the counter anyways. He makes a show of whipping out bowls and boxes of cereal.

“Yeah see the key here is to be slow with it. Light lil shakes it comes right out, no broken powdery pieces that make the milk feel like soggy sand” he demonstrates as you watch, chin in your hand.

He does as instructed, only for what seemed like half the bag’s contents spill out into the bowl. You’re both silent as you absorb the comical hill of coco puffs protruding from the bowl, before giggle a little.

“No that’s fine, I’ll eat that. I’m a big boy I need my” - he turns the box around to read the description - “fibre”, he concludes.

“Oh yes of course” you agree with him dutifully.

Managing to put an actual acceptable amount into another bowl, he turns around to the fridge.

“Oat milk, almond milk, soy milk…?” He asks, head stuck inside the fridge.

“We had options?” You ask

“Apparently. Jeonghan might’ve spat in one of these though, he doesn’t believe soy exists”

Fair.

“Is there normal milk?”

He emerges all cute and smiley with the box of cow’s milk, sachaying back over the counter to finish off your bowls.

Once he’s done cermemoniusly plopping a spoon into the bowls, he takes a seat across from you.

He’s looking at you expectantly as bring the first spoonful to your mouth. You can’t help but smile wide at his expression, eyes wide and mouth in a bread smile. Reaching over, you pinch his cheeks hard.

“Ow” he says, but he’s laughing. “Well? How is it?”

“It’s very good. I’ll be excpecting you to make all my cereal bowls henceforth”

“Understood”

Today was your last day here, everybody planning on packing up, loading the cars and leaving by tonight. You hadn’t even realised till midway through your breakfast, and as you see Alyssa walk in to the kitchen. She’s bleary eyed with rats nest hair, clearly just woken up.

She whines as she sits next to you, something about a horrible headache. It’s not long before Jeonghan walks into the kitchen in the same state, resting himself against her back, head on her shoulder.

You smile at the hungover couple, clearly needing more sleep and probably an entire bottle of meds.

Realising they may have fallen asleep like that in the middle of the kitchen stacked on the counter, you smile.

“I’ll do the dishes” you announce, getting off your stool and moving to grab his bowl across the counter.

“No” he rebutts claiming his bowl and your own. “I am”

“Soon-”

“Go make the bed or something, I’ll clean this out”

“Wow. Is the Kwon Soonyoung offering to wash the dishes?” you hear another voice introduce itself. Joshua had also woken up.

You move past him to the room but you don’t miss the muffled sound of “simp” coming from the kitchen. Fighting back another sappy smile, you breathe a sigh of relief.

***

You’re out in the backyard, sitting on the steps as you try to get a good picture of the trees and the flower beds out back. It was nice and sunny, but not enough for it to be considered too hot to handle. Soonyoung comes out back with two coffees, setting them down on the wood beside you. Wrapping his arms around you, he plants a kiss on your lips when you turn your face back to him.

“Whatchu looking at?” he asks.

“The flowers look really pretty in the sun” you answer trying to pull up the pictures you just took.

“They do. You’re the prettiest flower, though.You don’t attract bees. Or die in 3 days” He says.

“Bees are pivotal for the environment, sir”

“I love it when you use big words”

“Pivotal’s a big word, now?”

“I am but a wild tiger, I know nothing but the wilderness and my prey”

You snort at his revelation, a littlle concerned how he could say that with a straight face, you peck him regardless.

“Sit down, tiger, you’re gonna get dizzy if you squat too much”

“What part of strong ferocious tiger are you not understanding” he huffs.

It takes one questioning look for him to plant his butt behind you, legs coming up to encase your entire body in his limbs. His arms stay around you, chin on your shoulder.

“Just to clarify, because Jeonghan asked in the kitchen, I mean, once he woke up anyway,” he starts, “we’re dating right?”

Not being able to handle how innocent he sounds, you turn around and place a big smooch on his face.

“You’re fucking adorable”

He has a blank face, “That doesn’t answer my question. I think”

“Yes. Yes we’re dating”

Watching his face break out into a smile, your own smile widens. You kiss him again for good measure. You don’t see how you could get tired of doing it.

Settling your back into his chest you sigh as you pick up the coffee he brought you to take a sip.

You damn near spit it back out.

“Is it good?” he asks.

You don’t answer as you try to get over the shock in your tastebuds.

He picks up his own mugs and tastes for himself. He, unlike you, actually did spit it back into the mug.

He’d salted the coffee instead of sugar.

***

You’re in bed, except this time Soonyoung is with you, playing with your fingers.

He brings your hand up, curling each of your fingers so it made a tiger paw. You straighten it back only for him to whine and do it again. You straighten them out again, only this time it’s to annoy him.

Once he’s satisfied with the positioning and yous top being a menace, he puts his own hands up in the same pose and takes a picture. It’s when he starts tapping on his phone is when you ask;

“What’re you doing”

“Soft launching you” he responds, too engrossed in picking the right stickers for his Instagram story. “Well, I’ve already hard launched you like three times on my feed already but it’s official this time”

Placing your chin on shoulder, head next to his as you look at what he’s doing on his phone with him.

“That’s too orange” you comment.

“Babe, all tigers are orange”

“Yes but choose a less obnoxious orange, that one’s nasty” you wrinkle your nose.

“Should we get a dog and dye it orange and black?” He mumbles nonchalantly.

Blinking for a moment, you reply, “Pretty sure that’s animal abuse”

“We’ll use animal safe dye. You know I saw this lady in the States dye her dog pink on youtube, it’s totally fine”

“Soonyoung, she wanted a pink dog. You want a tiger. Those are not the same things”

He sighs dramatically as he admits defeat, setting his phone aside after hitting post before turning to you all pouty.

“Why don’t you call me cute names” he asks, switching the subject abruptly, once again.

This was going to take some getting used to.

“I mean I guess I call you Hoshi sometimes-”

“No, everyone calls me that. We’re supposed to have those cute lovey dovey disgsuting names just for each other” he whines.

‘Soonie’ was off the suggestions, and you doubted he’d want you to call him something his ex once did (wore it out, really).

“Youngie?” he suggests, but goes back to thinking once he reads your questionable look.

“Nicknames catch on, don’t they. Maybe I’ll start calling you something after you embrass yourself with it”

“Oh! I can call you pesto! You know cuz of your salad” He says, bouncing on the bed to aggressively face you.

“It can’t possibly appeal to you that much-” you start.

“If you were dying and that pesto was drowning with you, I’d dive for the pesto” he deadpans.

There’s little ways you can respond to your boyfriend choosing a pleasure of 5 minutes over your life, but sure, you’ve had a couple burgers you’d string him up for too.

“Good to know. Get out of my house” you choose to reply.

“Nooooooo!” he exclaims, dramatically throwing all of his limbs across your entire body to suffocate you. “I’m not leaving, EVER!”

“This is criminal tresppassing!” your voice is muffled under his chest as he shows no signs to let go.

“Criminal trespassing on your heart!!”

You’re afraid he’s quite proud of that one, and you question why you're here for a moment. You decide to spare him a choking considering he was right.

“Hey Pesto, how about some salad for this criminal?” he asks, his disgustingly adorable smug face presented to you aas he loosens his grip.

An animal type strength comes roaring inside you as you respond by pushing him off the bed completely.

“Ow” he shouts, “What was that for?”

“For whatever it was that prompted you to say that” you say.

“So no pesto, Pesto?” he’s pouting, and rubbing his behind a little.

Deciding to be nice, you hang over the bed and pull his face up to kiss him.

“Yes pesto. If you come back up here to cuddle for a few more minutes” you smile, still holding his now also smiling face.

He’s quick to scramble, pulling himself up before you’re stopping him with a sock clad foot to his chest; “No cringey commentary or I’ll throw you off the bed again”

He responds by landing directly on you, planting pecks all over your face as you decide, then and there, that you’d take any cringey joke to have him kiss you everyday.

2K notes · View notes

beomcoups · 24 days

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Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia. Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would “make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did.

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend.

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you. You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop.

I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

��What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night.

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.”

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.”

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.”

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.”

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition.

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?”

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to.

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off.

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier.

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon.

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head.

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing.

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them.

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic.

You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.”

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.”

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying.

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.”

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.”

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that.

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.”

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.”

“Was it?”

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future.

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.”

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #hoshi x reader

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bookyeom · 1 month

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pairing: hoshi x reader word count: 3k warnings: kissing, reader is a bad dancer?

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.

dance with me by sarah kang ft. cody dear

'cause boy when i'm alone with you you make me wanna sway, wanna move

dance with me 나랑 춤출래? i don't care about where or when pick a song that never ends

You and Soonyoung have been stuck in some weird, uncharted territory for months now.

He’s your friend, but he’s also so much more than that. You know it, and you’re pretty sure he knows it, too.

You’d do anything for him, really. So when he asks you to meet him at the studio before you head home so that he can show you something new he’s working on, you don’t hesitate. Even though it’s midnight, and you’re exhausted from hours spent studying in the library – because Soonyoung is calling.

You can hear music as you approach the practice room, recognizing it as the song for the dance he’s been rehearsing for his final exam, so you’re surprised when you don’t see him through the windows at all. You turn the handle on the door to the room tentatively, opening it just enough to peek inside. And you smile.

Soonyoung is lying flat on his back near the wall closest to you, his chest heaving as he stares up at the ceiling. You watch as he marks the movements in small gestures from his spot on the floor, bobbing his head to the beat, as if he’s taking only half a break. You’ve been friends for quite some time now, and you know him well enough to know that his mind won’t settle until he’s perfected what he’s practicing. He’ll rest his body if he has to, if it makes him, but even then, you know he’s always going over choreo in his head. Like right now.

You wait until the song is finished, until there’s quiet, and then you speak. “I was invited here to see some dancing, but it looks like I’m in the wrong place.”

Soonyoung’s head falls back onto the floor as he looks over, a grin spreading across his lips when he meets your eyes. He’s looking at you upside down, and it makes you laugh. Then you’re suddenly not laughing anymore, because within seconds he’s pushed to his feet and is bounding over to wrap you in a warm, sweaty hug. Now, your heart is racing.

“Hi!” He beams, moving back to squeeze you by the biceps.

“Hey, Soonyoung,” you manage.

“I was just taking a break,” he explains, and you nod. “Don’t worry, that’s the first one I’ve taken all evening–”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I wasn’t worried before, but now I am, if you're telling me that’s the only break you’ve taken from dancing in the last four hours.”

He just laughs, letting go of you, and you roll your eyes. “Go sit over there, I’ll run it again. I don’t need you to help with much… There’s just this one part in the chorus where it feels a little stiff. Just tell me if anything feels,” he gestures into the air vaguely, “off.”

You nod, mock saluting him as you take your place on one of the chairs scattered along the wall on the other side of the room.

You watch as he sets up the song again, your cheeks warming when he begins shrugging off his hoodie. He’s turned away, his back and shoulders now on full display for you in the tank he’s wearing, and you can’t help but stare. You abruptly look down at your feet when he turns back towards you, the first beats of the song beginning to play. You look at him again as he zones in, squaring his shoulders and getting into position as he watches himself in the mirror.

You don’t have a single rhythmic bone in your body. Watching anyone dance is mind blowing to you, but especially Soonyoung. He’s incredible. Why he wants your advice on his dancing is beyond you, but he always insists, and you’ve never been good at denying him anything.

And why would you even want to deny this? This — a front row seat to one of the most beautiful works of art you’ve ever seen. Soonyoung takes your breath away all the time, but especially like this.

You’re so caught up in his movements that you don’t even recognize when the chorus hits, when it gets to the part you’re supposed to pay extra attention to. You’re in a trance, only snapping out of it when he makes one final turn, and the song ends. You blink, watching as Soonyoung returns to himself, the performer in him calming with every breath he takes. He lets his shoulders drop, lets his body relax, and then he lets out a loud sigh of relief. He crosses the room and joins you, falling into the chair next to yours, and drops his head onto your shoulder.

You remind yourself to breathe.

“So?” He’s still breathless. You suddenly remember why you’re there, why he asked you to come and what he asked you to do, and you flush when you realize that you were too dazed to really notice if anything was amiss.

“This is your best one yet,” you tell him honestly. Which is the truth, because despite your ogling, you would have noticed if anything was glaringly wrong.

“Really?”

You nod. “You’re amazing, Soonyoung.”

The words come out much softer than you intended, much more honest, and you can only hope he doesn’t read into any of it. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you’re running out of reasons not to panic when he says, “Dance with me?”

Your eyes widen as he lifts his head and turns to you with a smile.

“What?”

He lifts his head from your shoulder and stands up, holding out a hand for you to take. “Come on,” he grins, wiggling his outstretched fingers when you don't move. “I’ll teach you some of the easier moves.”

You let him pull you up, even as you continue to protest. “Soonyoung, you know—“

“Come on,” he insists, “you can do it!”

You groan. “I really can’t, you know this! I can’t dance, Soonyoung, I—”

“You can’t dance well,” he corrects, and you level him with a glare. He just grins wider as he adds, “but I know you like to! I’ve seen you on our nights out.”

You willfully ignore how his last comment makes you feel, trying desperately not to flush crimson red at his observation. At the fact that he’s noticed these things. “Yeah, so you already know I look like an idiot.”

“You look,” Soonyoung counters, “like you’re having a lot of fun. I’ve seen the way you smile when you’re dancing with your friends.”

You try once more. “No one is judging me there.”

“No one is judging you here, either.”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, because you can’t argue with that. You know he would never judge you – for anything. You huff, narrowing your brows as you give him a mock glare, but your shoulders fall in defeat. Soonyoung giggles – your favourite sound – and leads you into the middle of the room.

He doesn’t waste any time as he begins to guide you through what he claims is one of the easier steps to master, and to your surprise, you actually kind of get the hang of it. He’s a good teacher, you note, because of course he is, and you feel a bit less anxious with every “good job!” and cheer he sends your way.

You continue to practice the same small sequence for a bit. When Soonyoung places both arms on your shoulders and stares you directly in the eyes, you stop breathing for a second.

“Okay,” he says, “this is the last move of this part, but it’s a bit hard.” He draws his lip between his teeth, and you watch it happen, because what else are you supposed to do? You think he notices, because his mouth quirks up at the side, but he doesn’t say anything except for, “You up for it?”

You don’t think you say yes, but he begins to teach you, anyway. And he’s right – this last move is hard. He continues to encourage you, and you continue to try and try and try, and –

You let out an ungodly squeal when you finally land in the right spot, pumping a fist into the air. “Yes! I nailed that!”

You try one more time, two more times, and it’s not perfect — but you do it.

You don’t even notice the way Soonyoung is looking at you until after you do the move for the third time. When you do, your heart leaps into your throat. He’s got his arms crossed as he smiles over at you, soft, and you think there’s a pink flush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before. You try and tell yourself it’s from the dancing, even though you know it’s you that’s been exerting yourself for the last half hour, not him. He looks so fond, and happy, and there’s something else you can’t quite put a finger on. All you know is that it’s making your entire body warm.

“What?” You ask as steadily as you can manage.

He just shakes his head. Then he abruptly looks down as if shaking himself out of a stupor, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck, and you’re frozen in place. What was that all about?

“High five,” he offers, cutting of your train of thought, and it takes you a second to register what he’s asking for.

And when your hand lifts to meet his, he doesn’t let go.

It all happens at once. His fingers intertwine with yours, his other hand finds your waist, and suddenly he’s so close to you that you forget how to think. You know there’s no mistaking the shakiness in the exhale that leaves you.

“Is this part of the choreo?” You finally manage, voice barely a whisper, and Soonyoung lets out a soft breath.

“No,” he admits, his voice low.

His hand slides around to your lower back, testing the waters further. His other hand falls from yours, his eyes searching for any sign of discomfort before he pulls you in even closer, like he can’t stop himself.

“What about this?” Your voice is so, so quiet.

“No.”

His voice is soft in the emptiness of the practice room around you. Your bodies are flush now, chest to chest, and you think that if he wasn’t holding you up, your knees would buckle. His eyes still haven’t left yours, waiting, though you don’t know for what. His gaze only breaks from yours to wander across your face; your eyes, your nose, your mouth. You can’t help the soft exhale that leaves you when his eyes find your lips, and you know he notices because you can feel his fingers tighten their grip on the back of your shirt.

Moments pass like that, and when you still don’t move away, Soonyoung lets out a soft breath of air that you didn’t realize he’d been holding. His next movements are slow and calculated, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes falling shut. Your hand lifts to his chest, and you’re surprised when you feel just how fast his heart is beating.

“Soonyoung?” You question softly after a moment, impressed that your voice even makes it out at all. He responds with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, his eyes still closed.

“I just… Just give me a second,” he murmurs, and your heart is racing so fast you’re sure he can hear it in the quiet of the practice room.

“Okay.”

You have no idea what’s going on. All you know is that you trust Soonyoung with your life, and if he needs a minute — you’ll give him ten. You think that maybe you’re the one who needs a minute, though, because you’re not sure how you’re still breathing, let alone standing upright with him this close.

So close that your breaths are mingling together in the small space that’s left between you, so close that you can count every single one of those beautiful eyelashes as they flutter against his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, and your eyebrows furrow.

“For what?” Your hand moves of its own accord, moving from his chest to find his bicep and squeezing gently to remind him that he’s okay. He lets out a hum, but he still doesn’t open his eyes, and you’re almost worried now.

“I’m sorry if this is weird. If I’m being weird,” he elaborates. “It’s just that — well, honestly, ah,” he seems to attempt to squeeze his eyes shut even more, if that were possible. “I’ve really been wanting to kiss you lately — like, more than usual, which is already a lot — fuck, sorry.” He inhales sharply. “You just looked so cute watching me before, and dancing with me now, so I thought that I… and then you didn’t move away, so I thought that maybe you…” He trails off again, and you’re sure your ears are playing tricks on you.

You move your forehead away from his, and his eyes finally open at the loss of contact. When your gaze meets his, your breath is nearly stolen away from you. He looks terrified as he searches your face, his eyebrows furrowed, and you know him so well that you swear you can hear him overthinking everything. His grip loosens on the back of your shirt but he doesn’t let go, and you can tell he wants to speak again based on the way his mouth opens and closes, but he doesn’t. You haven’t moved, and he doesn’t either, and you know he’s letting you decide how to respond. He would give you all the space in the world if you asked for it, you know that.

You don’t want space, though.

“It’s not weird,” you finally say, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you speak. “I’ve been feeling like that, too.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widen, and he blinks slowly. He takes a moment, processing, and then he starts, “You—”

“I swear all I think about these days is kissing you,” you blurt out, and you’re not sure who’s blushing harder now, you or him.

Before you even know what’s happening, Soonyoung is surging forward to close the whisper of distance that remains between the two of you. Then his lips are pressed to yours, hot and slow and lingering, his hand lifting to your jaw to angle your face so that he can kiss you even deeper. You let out an almost pathetic sounding whimper at the intensity of the kiss, at how warm and soft and good his mouth feels against yours, and he hums in return.

When he pulls away, it takes a second for your own eyes to flutter back open. He’s smiling so wide that his eyes have turned into crescent moons.

“Holy fuck, Soonyoung.” You’re breathless, and you can tell he’s pleased with your comment as his thumb caresses the side of your jaw.

“So much better than I could have ever imagined,” he returns, and you flush. “And trust me, I’ve thought about it a lot.”

You move to bury your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, not caring at all that he’s sweaty and warm. His arms pull you in, holding you close to his chest, and you hum as he gently sways the two of you.

“Now neither of us has to wonder what it’s like anymore,” you say softly.

“You’re right,” he agrees, pulling you back so he can look down at you again. His hands clasp together at the small of your back as he leans forward to teasingly brush his nose against yours. “Now that I know what it feels like to kiss you, though, I’m definitely going to be thinking about it even more than I already was.”

Your arms wind your way around his neck. “Me, too.”

“I mean…” Soonyoung is grinning, smile so bright it could outshine the sun, as he says, “We could just… keep doing it.”

You pull him into you so abruptly that it makes you stumble, falling in a tangle of limbs down to the practice room floor. You wince as you land on Soonyoung, but he’s laughing as you roll off and onto your back beside him. You throw a hand over your eyes, and you can feel it as Soonyoung lifts onto his side next to you. A hand moves to trace patterns on your arm, and you can’t help the shiver that courses through you.

“You didn’t hurt me,” he murmurs, and you can still hear the smile in his voice.

“I know. I’m just… Embarrassed.”

Soonyoung’s fingers halt their motions as he finds your hand and brings your arm away from your face, entwining his fingers with yours. He continues to play with your fingers, his body firm against your side as he leans against you. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“I was trying to be sexy and I literally tripped us, Soonyoung. This is why you’re the dancer and I��m not.”

Soonyoung’s mouth moves slowly, almost painstakingly slow, as a smile takes over his face.

He doesn’t say anything, and you’re about to let out a whine because you’re even more embarrassed with him looking at you like that. But he sits up, bringing you with him. The soft smile on his mouth grows, and grows, and grows, until his grin has widened so much that it’s taken over his entire face.

“You like me,” he whispers, and you can’t help the giggle that tumbles past your lips. You flush, giddy over how giddy he is, and you nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I really, really do.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Sorry a new fic took so long, there's been a lot going on in my life that I did not foresee lol. Thanks for waiting xx

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @iluvseokmin @seohomrwolf

(Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, I’m sorry!)

#hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #hoshi x you #hoshi x reader #ksy x reader #soonyoung x reader #thirteenvalentines #my writing #ksyfic

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rubywonu · 7 months

Text

𝗵𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗮𝗲

“horanghae.” “what the hell is that?”

summary: in which you fall in love with a tiger wannabe.

pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, meet-cute

warnings: the word ‘psychopath’, a swear word.

w/c: 0.6k

nia’s notes: @etherealyoungk this one is for you.

it was a typical tuesday at the cafe you work at. you started your shift an hour back and things were going slow since it was pretty early in the morning.

you were setting up for the rest of the day, placing syrups and toppings while listening to your music in your world. you flinched when the door opened, a bunch of guys storming in, all engaged in their own conversations.

you looked at the clock on the wall. 7:46 am. that was pretty early for a group of what you counted to be thirteen men. did that concern you? no. not at all, when you saw their attire. you squinted your eyes, not believing your sight.

is that a tiger onesie? you stared in shock at the man walking towards you. it was weird enough for a group of men to walk into a cafe at almost eight in the morning, but a grown ass man in a tiger onesie was a rare sight.

"uh. is everything alright?" the tiger man in front of you asked, concern on his face. you snapped out of your gaze and tried to look presentable but the curiosity didn't leave your face.

"ah. yes. what can i get you?" you plastered your work smile on your face and walked to the counter, ready to take their order.

"can i get six americanos, four warm coffees, and two toasted bagels please?" the man in front of you spoke in a cool and sophisticated manner, completely contrasting his outfit choice. "please take your time, no rush at all," he assured you with a small smile of y our face.

"sure. is that all?" you asked as you typed into the computer. he nodded his head, and you set out to make the order. it took quite a while as you moved from one end of the counter to the other, acquiring different ingredients.

after 15 minutes, everything was done and you placed it on the main counter, your eyes meeting the man.

"here's your order. six americanos, four warm coffees, and two toasted bagels." you pointed to each of the mentioned dishes in front of you. "what's your method of payment?"

"card." the man took out his card and gave it to you and you proceeded with the payment, the sharp orange colors distracting your mind every few seconds.

you swiped the card, and returned it. "your name, please?"

"kwon soonyoung."

an interesting name for an interesting man. the ends of your mouth lifted as you slowly said the name, testing each syllable while you typed it out.

"thank you for visiting, do come here again," you said. you smiled brightly at the man, who you know the name off. he too reciprocated your facial expression.

and then he did something that rendered you speechless.

"horanghae." soonyoung held up his hand and imitated a tiger's claw, and he sent a goofy smile to you.

you scrunched up your face in confusion. "what the hell is that?" your curiosity must have come off in a baffled way as soonyoung was laughing, the other men in the cafe staring at the scene in bewilderment.

"how about i explain it to you over dinner?" soonyoung asked you smoothly, laughing harder at your shocked face.

you scoffed, trying to hide the huge smile coming on your face. you failed miserably. "are you sure you're not a psychopath."

"i'm wearing a tiger onesie at 8:04 am on a tuesday morning. i think that question is self-explanatory." soonyoung gestured his outfit, the tip of his ears turning red in the process.

"sure," you answered, soonyoung had his mouth open after hearing what you said.

"really?" you nodded at soonyoung, you wrote your number on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

it was overall a weird day for you, but the weirdest act out of them all was the fact that a tiger wannabe just asked you on a date. and little did you know, that would be the first encounter with the love of your life.

tagging: @kflixnet . @caratsland . @pixieskie . @xomingyu . @fairyhaos . @kyeomyun . @wheeboo . @ylliris-hanniehae . @bangchansbae . @slytherinshua . @blue-jisungs .

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gyu-effect · 4 months

Note

are your requests still open? if they are then can you write a, hoshi x f!/gn reader where hoshi falls for a quiet but well-known (not popular) STEM student of his school and tries to approach her but is always unable to until he gets so mad and desperate that he literally walks up to her in a hallway?

(did this request stem from reading your gut-wrenching angst about soonyoung the other day? yes.)

PAIRING || Soonyoung x Female Reader

GENRES || Angst, Fluff

WARNINGS || seungkwan uses shit once

WORD COUNT || 1.9k

A/N || congratulations anon, you've finally done something i've been to dying to attempt: write a god damned fic thats more than 1.5 but less than 10k TT thank you so much for requesting this! and asdfghjkl poor yn did deserve a proper ending in that fic. requests are open !!!

TAGLIST || @romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @aaniag @sea-moon-star @thepoopdokyeomtouched @hrts4hanniehae @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @amethyistheart @k-drama-adict [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

[02:10]

he watched you through the corner of his eyes, his lips quirking up involuntarily into a small smile when he saw you giggling at the book you were reading.

“did you even hear what i was saying?”

soonyoung flinched at the sudden voice intruding his blissful thoughts of you, glaring slightly at the two boys standing opposite to him, one looking mildly amused while the other looked thoroughly annoyed.

“what?” he asked seungkwan, causing the latter to roll his eyes.

“seriously, if you like her so much, why don’t you just tell her that?” seokmin asked to which soonyoung shook his head. “i would tell her but there’s no way she would like me back. i mean, she’s such a perfect student! all straight a’s and perfect attendance and behaviour and what not. and i’m…the complete opposite.”

“excuse me?” seungkwan said. “how are you the complete opposite? okay, maybe you don’t get straight a’s but its not like you bunk class, talk back to professors or act like a complete delinquent or something. and who knows, she might like you back.”

soonyoung looked at him dryly. “might?”

“well, i’m pretty sure she would have noticed your fifteen failed attempts to talk to her-”

“oh god, please don’t bring that up.” he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

talking to you shouldn’t have been that hard. it wasn’t like you were a very popular student and had a huge crowd around you (well, you were still very well known and always had people asking for your help in something or the other but that shouldn’t have stopped him from trying to flirt with you) but the number of times he had tried to approach and had failed was really, really embarrassing. how ill fated was he that right at that moment something would pop up and you would leave or someone else would call you away?

and just how big his crush was on you that he was this desperate even after so many attempts? soonyoung had always considered himself as a fickle person, if he couldn’t get to know the person he liked within a few attempts, he would just forget about it and move on in life.

but you, you had caused him to be stuck in the exact same place for months like glue. what had started as an ordinary admiration had quickly turned into infatuation and before he knew it, he was heads over heels with you.

soonyoung loved everything about you. he adored your mannerism, your dedication and hard work and especially how you always managed to take control of any situation thrown at you. and also, he loved, loved your cute smile and the sound of your laughter.

“hey, y/n’s free now.” seokmin commented. “why don’t you go and talk to her now?”

soonyoung looked up and turned to you, his heart skipping a beat when you too happened to look in his direction right at that time. you smiled at him softly and waved, and all he could was chuckle back nervously trying not to look like he was going to melt then and there.

“you’re right!” he said, looking back at his friends in happiness. but all of a sudden that happiness was filled with nervousness, when he realised he was finally getting to talk to you. “wha-what do i say to her though?”

“just say you want to talk to her, you dumbass.” seungkwan said, slightly slapping his arm. “say you want to talk to her, take her to the ground, and then say you really, really like her.”

“and if she says no?”

“then say you respect her choices and will always be waiting for her. and that you’ll try your level best to also show her why she should come to you.” seokmin said.

“what the hell? are they getting married or something? why are you so romantic for no reason?” seungkwan asked, looking at seokmin dryly.

“and why are you so anti-romantic?” seokmin countered back, but soonyoung had already drowned out his friends’ banter, turning back to look at you.

you had gone back to reading your book and he braced himself for the worst.

it's now or never, soonyoung.

taking in a deep breath, he got up and began walking towards your desk. but just as he was about to tell you ‘hi’, you got up and swung your bag across your shoulder, picking up your books. soonyoung froze and unfortunately the two of your eyes met again, your eyes widening when you realised that he was about to talk to you.

“oh hey. uh, sorry i need to run to the staff room. mr. park said he needs me.” you said, flashing him a quick smile before running out of the classroom.

all soonyoung could do was stare at your disappearing figure, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

wow. just wow.

he turned back to look at his two friends, who too flinched and looked equal crestfallen.

“it’s okay.” seungkwan muttered, patting his back as he made his way back to his seat. “maybe, uh, maybe next time-”

“yeah, sure.” he snapped, flopping down on his seat gloomily.

next time.

the next time soonyoung got a chance to talk to you was when his professor decided to hold a joint class in the lecture hall. as he and his friends entered the lecture hall, his eyes fell on you (you just happened to catch his eyes always even if it was in a crowded place; soonyoung swore that it was because of goddamn beautiful face) sitting in the second row all alone.

and even before he could turn back and signal his friends that he was going to sit there, he found himself darting to the second row, ready to grab the seat next to you.

but his legs came to a screeching halt when your friend sat herself down on that very seat, foiling soonyoung’s plan in every single way.

what do i do? should i sit behind her? or should i-

“what are you doing soonyoung? come and sit in the front row. you too, seokmin and seungkwan. didn’t you three tell me you’re finding microelectronic circuits hard?” the professor barked from the stage. soonyoung felt his cheeks flame up, clutching his book hard as he prayed you wouldn’t think he was stupid (well, he was but that was a different matter).

begrudgingly, he made his way to the front and sat down, seokmin and seungkwan on either side of him.

“shit that was a great attempt.” seungkwan muttered, opening his books.

“thanks.” he replied dryly.

“talk to her after class.” seokmin whispered back. “i saw her look at you in-”

“pity?”

“i was going to say she looked at you with regret, but okay.”

“that is pity.”

“no, that is the regret of not getting to sit next to you.”

“thanks, seok.” he muttered, rolling his eyes. he loved the amount seokmin hyped him always but sometimes it got out of hand like now. he could finally understand why seungkwan got tired of him.

it was like the entire universe was against him because time seemed to take forever to pass. seconds felt like they had been stretched to hours and soonyoung could feel himself getting more and more impatient with each passing second.

finally, after what felt like a million years, the professor concluded the session. trying not to look like he was in an immense hurry, soonyoung got up and stretched a little, packing his belongings in a hurry, pausing in between each time when he remembered that he had to slow down a little.

“dude, what are you doing?” seungkwan hissed all of a sudden, smacking him lightly. soonyoung looked at him in confusion before looking up to your now empty seat. wait what- “she already left!”

true to his friend’s words, you were already walking out of the door, arm in arm with your friend. panic seized him as he hurriedly stuffed the rest of his things into his bags, before following you out into the hallway.

the hallways seemed even more crowded than usual and soonyoung had to literally push his way to finally get to you.

he found you standing a few feet away from him but even then, you were talking to someone, that someone in this case being the campus heartthrob choi seungcheol and he felt a prickle of annoyance creep in.

you were laughing at a joke he had probably just made before handing him over a notebook, being the helpful angelic person you were.

now soonyoung was really annoyed.

hell, he had worked so hard on his grades hoping he wouldn’t make a fool of himself in front of you and that maybe one day you would notice him, and here was seungcheol, just flashing his killer dimpled smile and easily asking you for notes.

maybe it was his jealousy, or maybe it was the fact that he was tired of being unable to talk to you, but he found himself marching up to you, clearing his throat when he came and stood beside the two of you.

you looked at him in mild confusion before smiling softly at him. “hi, soonyoung! could you just give me a minute-”

“no!” it came out louder than he had expected it to be and he immediately regretted his actions when he saw you flinch lightly.

“hey dude, how about you calm down-” seungcheol began pushing him back slightly but that seemed to set his gears in motion.

“i like you!”

soonyoung felt the entire hallway freeze as your eyes widened (probably in horror) and he felt his entire face heat up in embarrassment. oh god, oh god, what had he just done?

“ignore- ignore me.” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as he balled his fists, turning around swiftly to walk away.

great. now he had ruined every single chance he had with you.

soonyoung began walking away quickly, wanting nothing more but to melt into his friends’ arms but then he felt someone catch him by his wrist.

“wait, soonyoung-” he turned back to see who it was, and to his surprise he found that you were the one who was holding his wrist. but you quickly dropped his hand when the two of your eyes met, looking down at the floor. “i, uh, i didn’t get to answer you.”

“huh?” was he hearing things correctly?

“your- your confession.” you muttered, before looking up to meet his eyes. he felt his heartbeat quicken at the new determined look on your face. “you said you liked me.”

hearing the words come out of your lips caused his stomach flip, and he averted his eyes away as he slowly nodded. “yeah,” he muttered. “yeah, i like you a lot. but i’ll understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore-”

“i like you too.” you whispered, and he looked back at you in surprise. you gave him a shy smile (that nearly turned his knees to jelly), before repeating your statement. “i like you too soonyoung. a lot.”

“oh.” was all he could say, before snapping back to his senses. “oh. i, uh, i- oh. i-i- like you too. oh god, i’m so sorry. i’m- i’m just so-”

to his delight, you just laughed lightly, before smiling at him fondly. soonyoung too smiled back, feeling like the happiest person in this world.

“that was terrible, wasn’t it?” he asked, taking a step closer to you. oh my god. i’ve done it. i’ve confessed to her and she likes me back too!

you nodded, glaring at him mockingly. god, you were so adorable. “it was terrible. you’ve got to make up for it.”

this time, he laughed. “how does a canteen date sound like?”

#╼ 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 #╼ [𝟎𝟐:𝟏𝟎]#╼ 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 #caratlibrary #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #kwon soonyoung angst #kwon soonyoung fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt angst

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wonwoonlight · 6 months

Text

are you like me too? / kwon soonyoung

⇢ Soonyoung x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: 1.1k

⇢ angst // breakup(??)!au // comfort?

⇢ A/N: i wrote this in like, 30 minutes bc i was watching the epik high and hosh's performance in akmu's show and got a random burst of writing juice so. enjoy? i'm obsessed w the song and this particular part btw so it's definitely inspired by that. as always not proofread but do enjoy somehow lol

요즘 뭘 먹고 마시고 어떤 행복을 찾는지 what are you eating and drinking these days? what kid of happiness are you looking for? epik high ft. hoshi - screen time

[ - - - ]

Soonyoung has never felt so stupid.

But, then again, being drunk and regretful at the same time is an obvious recipe for disaster.

He doesn’t even usually get drunk, as he’s often already passed out before he gets to that point. But there’s something about tonight that compels him to keep on throwing back drinks over drinks even though Jihoon is already looking at him in worry and Chaeyoung is trying to stop him from getting more.

But of course, drunk Kwon Soonyoung is even more hard headed than normal Kwon Soonyoung and Jihoon eventually tells the younger girl to just stop trying because perhaps the guy needs it.

After all, Jihoon knows Soonyoung has been regretting his decision to end… whatever it is he had with a certain someone and he hasn’t had the chance to properly throw himself a pity party that it’s probably been eating him inside out for the past week.

“Why the fuck did I…” He mutters to himself, not even caring that two of his friends are there worried out of their minds. He eventually kicks them out an hour later because he can only handle so much pity being thrown his way in his own fucking house.

He’s pitiful–pathetic, he knows, but it doesn’t make things any better and he does need this to (hopefully) make peace with whatever stupid decision he made last week to end things with you.

You’re not even his girlfriend–and whose fault is that?–he swallows another shot bitterly. And yet suddenly not having you any longer feels more painful than the last time he broke up with his ex-girlfriend.

Is it simply the alcohol, bubbling thoughts into his mind? Amplifying the pains even though it’s not really all that?

He glares at his phone, silent with nonexistent notifications from you. And then he looks at the mirror and glare at himself for pushing himself into such a situation.

Why did he think it was a good call to cut you off his life when it was him who talked to you first, asked for your number, begged you for a chance to go on dates, and now grovelling in his own room because he told you that he thinks it’s better to stop seeing each other when you’re not even yet in a relationship.

What was there to end, really?

A possibility, perhaps.

Love that was possibly growing in your heart that he cruelly plucked when it hadn’t even bloomed.

Is that a good thing, then?

Would it hurt more for you if your feelings had grown deeper than what you currently harbour towards him?

He takes his phone and scrolls through your old texts once again. He can probably recite them in his sleep at this point, but he doesn’t care because he misses you and he wishes he still has you–your texts, your laughter, your touch, your voice–you.

🧡: look at this dumb dog lmaoooo

how can u call him dumb :(

hes cute u meanie :(

🧡: //youre/// dumb🙄🙄

🧡: you know i dont mean it like that 😠😠😠😠

🧡: how dare you make me a villain against dogs!!!!

He takes a deep breath as he plays the video you sent for the nth time, still having it in him to smile at your small dog trying to jump into the sofa even though you had laid out a perfectly new dog stairs right next to it.

He presses his lips together at the sound of your laughter in the background, probably the only way he’s still able to hear it now.

It’s only been a week. He knows it’s only been a fucking week. But he’s already wondering how you’re doing and who’s making you laugh, if you get to eat that dumpling that you’ve been wanting to try since last month, if you’re sending your dog videos to someone else now, if you’re still watching the drama that you were watching with him.

…If someone’s holding you because, maybe… and just maybe… you’re also as sad as he is.

He hopes you’re not though. He doesn’t wish this wrenching feeling in his chest upon you.

He hopes you don’t like him enough to be as sad as he is.

He hopes you don’t like him enough to drink yourself to sleep–to numb the pain and silence the voices inside your head.

Closing his eyes, he contemplates on calling you. But he remembers that it was him who rids himself of that choice.

“Hello?”

Fuck. He’s even imagining your voice now.

“Hello?” Your voice calls once again, and Soonyoung grips his phone tighter because it’s getting too real and perhaps it is time to stop drinking. “Soonyoung? Are you there? Are you okay?”

He jumps when he realises it’s actually you, panics when he realises he accidentally presses call when he’s too deep in his thoughts. For someone who contemplated on calling you just not too long ago, he’s suddenly hyper aware of the situation and no longer sure what to say.

He opens his mouth to say something, but a violent cough makes it out of his lips–enough for him to hit his chest because it feels like he’s about to vomit though there’s nothing in his throat.

He hears you panic from the other side, and as much as he wants to tell you not to worry and apologize, he couldn’t do it because his head is spinning and a part of him wants you to know that he’s hurting and he’s regretting.

You already hang up once he’s calmed down.

And it’s thirty minutes later someone knocks on his door, his eyes widening in shock when he finds you on the other side, seemingly running out of your place in a hurry because you simply have a jacket over your pajamas.

“Are you okay?” You look up in worry, your hand already busy trying to see his temperature. It’s when you realize that Soonyoung has been looking at you in silence that it finally hits you that you’re not supposed to do this.

That he… he breaks up with you before you even begin dating and you’re probably out of your fucking mind for thinking that you should rush to him the moment you think he might need help.

Mistaking his silence as resentment, you quickly retract your hand and apologize. But before you can even turn away, Soonyoung pulls you into his place and closes the door and then wraps his arms around you.

You can’t even begin to comprehend what’s happening, but when you feel his body shaking and hear him trying to hide his tears on your shoulder, you decide it doesn’t matter.

For whatever reason, Soonyoung is hurting.

Whether he’s hurting because of you or some other reason, he’s hurting and he’s looking for comfort in you if the way he holds you so tight that it hurts a little and the smell of alcohol on him says anything.

You hug him back and Soonyoung cries harder.

[ - - - ]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

A/N: wow been so long since i wrote for him???

#soonyoung drabble #soonyoung scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen au #seventeen scenarios #khione.fics #hoshi angst #hoshi scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenario #soonyoung angst #seventeen oneshot #hoshi oneshot

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thepixelelf · 1 year

Text

Bluff and Nonsense - she/her ver.

genres: romance, angst, some fluff, university au, not a fake dating au pairing: female reader x hoshi words: 17.0k (01:08) warnings: cursing, alcohol notes (orig, 2020): "so the title is fluffy and this was a title fic, but then it ran away on me. I really like this one so... yeah. Enjoy!” update, 2023: this is the she/her version of Bluff and Nonsense. other than the pronouns, nothing else has been changed. you can find the original they/them version here, and the he/him version here

“Soonyoung? Yeah I know him, you should too. He’s on the uni’s dance crew, and ever since he joined them, their popularity’s skyrocketed. I’ve met him a few times, great guy — got a tendency to run his mouth but hey, no one’s perfect. He’s smart anyways, probably knows how to deal with the consequences, right?”

Soonyoung never thought one bluff could lead to so much nonsense.

Kwon Soonyoung is a man of many talents. He’s the guy who could fit a whole orange in his mouth in fourth grade, the guy who always knew how to make the social studies teacher talk about his divorce instead of the world wars, and the guy who brought a live pigeon to school with no one questioning him whatsoever. He’s also the head choreographer of the university’s dance crew — you barely knew there was a dance crew until he showed up with his hand-drawn posters — as well as a totally well-rounded fine arts major. C’mon, who takes a chemistry course in the fine arts? Kwon Soonyoung, apparently.

Of his many talents though, lying is not one of them.

Which is why, when asked if he likes anyone, Soonyoung says your name instead of simply saying “no” (a much better option in hindsight). He actually likes a girl on his dance crew. Cute, funny, has those eyes you can just get lost in — lord knows Soonyoung has. But, at this relatively quiet party, with half the guests crowded on Seungcheol’s couch and the other half on the disgusting carpeted floor of his apartment, Soonyoung can’t admit his real crush because she’s sitting just a few feet away.

It wouldn’t be such a bad lie if you weren’t also sitting a few feet away.

You’re on your phone when he says your name in his heartbeat-induced panic, but you look up at the sound of it, as does Seungkwan, who was reading something on your phone from the beanbag chair you’re both sitting in.

A chorus of low, teasing ‘ooh’s rises throughout the room, almost like it’s eighth grade again and Soonyoung just got called down to the office. Except now, he might actually be in trouble. He gets a few claps on the back from his friends close enough to reach, commending him on his bravado even though he doesn’t deserve it. Really, the whole situation only dawns on Soonyoung after 6.8 seconds, which is a bit too long considering he made the situation in the first place. Blood rushes to his cheeks, not because of the alcohol in his red cup he’s yet to drink, but because you’re looking right at him, and he has no idea what to do.

Soonyoung doesn’t know you very well. In fact, he’d almost say he doesn’t know you at all.

You’re Seungkwan’s friend from one of his classes — computing science, if Soonyoung remembers correctly, but he’s not totally confident. The only reason you came tonight is because of Seungkwan. You don’t know anyone else.

With a tilt of your head, your face scrunches with question, and you look to Seungkwan for help. You know Soonyoung said your name, but you missed hearing the context. It looks like Seungkwan missed it too, seeing as the conversation you two have only makes your brow furrow more as the room chatter picks back up. Everyone else is already over Soonyoung’s sudden confession when Jeonghan starts talking about something else.

Except Soonyoung’s friends, of course. That would be too easy.

Mingyu turns to him with a stupid smile, his cheeks red from both the free opportunity to tease his upperclassman and the light beer he’s been sipping and pretending to get buzzed on all night. He nudges Soonyoung with his shoulder where they sit on the floor, leaning in to speak under the conversations surrounding them. “You didn’t tell me you like her,” he says, the jesting tone in his voice clearer than water.

“Yeah...” Soonyoung doesn’t know why he doesn’t just retract his confession, it’s not like Mingyu is close to you or anything, he’d understand. But then again, he’s bad at lying, and the girl he likes is still sitting on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s sort of a recent thing.”

Mingyu’s smile only widens at Soonyoung’s response, his eyes turning to slits with the rise of his cheeks. “Soonie’s in looove~!”

And Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before, not exactly like this, anyways. So he just looks down, scratches the back of his neck again, looks at one of his dance crew friends when she calls his name.

He doesn’t dare glance your way for the rest of the night.

Turns out you do know someone else other than Seungkwan, because once most of the guests have cleared out, leaving only half the boys to clean up, Seokmin approaches Soonyoung as he scrubs the sink of whatever that weird green stuff is.

He asks how Soonyoung knows you and says off-handedly that he’s never even seen the two of you talk. (Which is right.) He says these things shouldn’t be joked about, that you’re a person with feelings, and Soonyoung should leave you alone if he’s just doing this for comedy’s sake.

Soonyoung thinks he’s never seen Seokmin so serious.

It’s probably fine. You haven’t said anything good or bad, and other than the occasional tease from his friends, no one has taken anything too far. Maybe you’ll forget about it tomorrow. Maybe he’ll forget about it tomorrow, and it will all be okay.

Besides, it’s not like he actually likes you. And his real secret is still safe and sound.

•

Of Soonyoung’s many talents, making people sad is also not one of them.

It’s not that he actively tries to cause misery only to fail, it’s that he can’t stand upsetting anyone. He’s a people-pleaser by nature, that’s just how it is.

So he doesn’t say no when you ask him out for coffee.

And he smiles at you when you try to make conversation, even though it’s awkward and hesitant despite having a mutual friend like Seungkwan. It’s not so bad, he thinks. You’re trying, at least, and when you ask him about his interests, you actually listen, which isn’t common when he tends to over-explain his love for dance and performance. He has a coffee in his hand too, so that’s a plus.

You ask him if what he said at the party was true, and something in your eyes makes him say yes.

•

There are a few more coffee dates after that. It’s nothing official, and Soonyoung is hesitant to call the meetups “dates” because he’s not interested in dating you. But it’s a little late for that.

You seem brighter, though, every time he sees you again; he can’t bring himself to take that away, to cut the cord, to clean this mess he made.

Something about the way you two talk is nice, at least. Soonyoung can’t quite put his finger on it, and he tells himself that’s what’s drawing him back every time, not the guilt he feels sunken in his ribcage whenever you smile his way. It’s not that deep, he repeats to himself whenever you wave to him on campus, making him feel obligated to walk you to class. It’s not that deep.

He’s in the library one day when he spots you at one of the tables, books open and spread out as you scribble down notes, a pair of earbuds dangling from your ears. You haven’t seen him, so he doesn’t try to approach, just ducks back behind the bookshelf he’s been exploring. His hand is on a book he might like when a voice stops him.

“You know you’re an idiot, right?”

Minghao leans against the opposite bookshelf, his arms crossed, locked and loaded for judgement. Soonyoung looks around, but of course he’s talking to him. They’re the only ones in the row.

“Um, how do you want me to answer that?” he asks, unsure of exactly what Minghao’s talking about. Yeah, he knows he’s a bit dense sometimes, but not all the time.

Minghao rolls his eyes. “I know you like Sehee. You haven't stopped laughing like an idiot at her bad jokes." He nods his chin outwards, gesturing over Soonyoung's shoulder and through the bookshelves towards where you're sitting. "What are you doing messing with Seungkwan's friend?"

It’s not too surprising that Minghao knows — he’s an intuitive guy, but Soonyoung is still caught off guard. He asks first, under his breath, “Does anyone else know?”

“If you mean dumb and dumber, then no.” Minghao jerks his head to swing his dark bangs out of his eyes. Everyone keeps telling him to just cut his hair shorter, but he refuses for the aesthetic, or something. “Chan is way too focused on dancing to notice your dumbassery, and Jun is about as observant as a fishcake when it comes to feelings.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders fall in relief, though he didn’t even realize they’d tensed up.

“But that’s not the problem here. Why are you playing around with her if you’re into Sehee?”

“I’m not—” Soonyoung pauses, thoughts deliberate, “—I’m not playing around, okay? I just... I don’t know. You were all looking at me, and I couldn’t just say Sehee's name, she was right there!”

Minghao cocks an eyebrow at that. “But you could say hers?”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware.”

Soonyoung groans quietly — he’s still in a library after all. He covers his face with both hands, not wanting to look at Minghao nor have Minghao look at him. For a second, it’s blissful, awkward silence, which Soonyoung would take over Minghao’s scolding any day. But of course, no haven lasts forever.

“You’re gonna have to tell her,” Minghao says, and he’s probably right. No, he is right, Soonyoung just doesn’t want him to be.

“I can’t do that! I said I like her— twice!”

“Twice?”

“Twice!”

Minghao only drops his head for a second, scoffing at the whole situation. Soonyoung wishes he could do that too, just laugh it off because it’s someone else’s problem.

“Well, you’re going to have to say something sooner or later.” Meeting his eyes, Soonyoung realizes Minghao might actually be worried. About you, or him, or something else, he’s not sure, but the subtle fold of Minghao’s eyelids tells Soonyoung this is about more than just calling out idiocy. “And I think sooner will hurt less.”

Soonyoung knows he’s right. But he doesn’t like it.

Before he can come up with a rebuttal, though, Minghao’s hands are on Soonyoung’s shoulders, and he’s pushing him out of the row of bookshelves and straight towards your table.

“You can do it, Soonyoung, just rip the band-aid while you still can,” he whispers in Soonyoung’s ear right before one last push at his back.

Soonyoung stumbles a bit, but once he regains his footing, Minghao’s already gone and you’ve already noticed the ruckus. You pull one earbud out with a bright smile. It’s so jovial that Soonyoung almost forgets why he’s here.

“Hi Soonyoung, I didn’t see you come in,” you say, and there’s no way you’re this energized just from studying in a library.

“Uh... hi.”

“You’ve actually got the perfect timing.” Waving to him, you gesture for him to sit next to you, and he does. You pull out some sort of planner, opening it to a few months from now. “I wanted to ask when exactly your showcase is? Seungkwan’s no help at all because he only cares about his concerts and stuff. Honestly, there aren’t that many...”

You’re going to have to say something sooner or later.

Soonyoung picks later.

•

“So when are you gonna ask her out?”

Jihoon stands in front of the stove, watching his hot water simmer, a bag of dry ramen in one hand and long cooking chopsticks in the other. It’s Soonyoung’s turn to make dinner tonight, but since he says he isn’t hungry, Jihoon’s scrounging it out himself.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, sits at their tiny dinner table, his forehead pressed to the cool surface, arms hanging limp at his sides. He mumbles something of a response, but it’s nothing more than a questioning grunt, if anything.

“Oh, you know.” Even when Jihoon says your name, Soonyoung stays still. “Only the girl you’ve been on several “dates” with ever since you confessed to her at Seungcheol’s party. When are you gonna ask her on a real date?”

Tired, Soonyoung groans. “When the time is right, I guess.”

•

You work on campus. It’s some part-time job you don’t care about enough to even complain over, despite the fact that you have to deal with annoying university kids every day. Soonyoung finds this out when he has coffee with Minghao in one of the buildings he doesn’t normally frequent, and only goes to today since Minghao has a class nearby in the next hour.

The coffee isn’t great, and it’s too expensive, but Soonyoung drinks it anyways. He much prefers the coffee from the cafe he goes to with you. Because the coffee is better. Obviously.

He hears your voice first, words indiscernible with distance and overshadowed by a much louder, angrier one, but still. Minghao sees you first, though, and he points past Soonyoung to the student printing center, where you’re standing behind the counter and arguing with some guy. You don’t seem too riled, but Soonyoung can tell you want to be anywhere but there, especially when the angry guy’s voice keeps getting louder and louder.

Soonyoung’s feet bring him over before his brain can register what to do. You haven’t seen him yet, he could just walk away, but he doesn’t. Your voice becomes clearer as he approaches.

“Listen, the printing center is for education, art, or business. I can’t print this for you.”

The guy goes off about personal freedoms or whatever, Soonyoung isn’t really listening.

“No, I get that this is a student printing center, but I really don’t think your big tiddie anime gf poster has anything to do with education, art, or business.”

And that’s when the guy grabs your arm. Which results in Soonyoung grabbing his arm. Which results in the accusatory question, “What are you, her boyfriend or something?”

Now, in a perfect story, this would be the first time Soonyoung meets you. Or maybe you’ve been close friends for a while. And this would be when Soonyoung says that, yes, he is your boyfriend, and he would save the day. Except you’d be all “why would you do that?” which would result in you both having to fake date to keep that guy off your back. In this perfect story, there would be no Sehee to like and no Minghao to judge, just you and Soonyoung fake dating. Eventually, you’d both catch real feelings instead of fake ones, and then boom, happily ever after.

But this isn’t a perfect story.

Soonyoung still says yes, and the guy still backs off. In reality though, because Soonyoung never thinks before he lies, you momentarily duck behind the counter and bring a hand up to your face to cover your ever-brightening smile. In reality, Sehee still exists at the forefront of his mind every dance practice, even though you’re the one he just promptly claimed to be the boyfriend of. In reality, Minghao watches from a little ways away, sipping his coffee and shaking his head in what can only be called disappointment.

Soonyoung’s never been good at lying. One would think he’d stop by now.

•

So, it’s official.

You’ve put a heart next to his contact name. He’s put one next to yours — red, because he doesn’t know your favourite colour. Seungkwan’s done the whole if you break my friend’s heart I break you spiel and Soonyoung finally realizes he’s in too deep.

It's almost too natural, how easily you bring him into your life and how easily he finds himself fitting. It's all so wrong.

Soonyoung feels like an imposter, like there's someone meant to be by your side, but it's not him.

You pluck up the courage one day to hold his hand, and he can't pull away because the lies tying him to you are too strong. The small bluffs he's spun have weaved themselves into a net he's tangled himself in.

His dance crew congratulates him when Jun spills the news. It's all mundane, really — dating in university isn't all that uncommon. Mostly, Soonyoung gets casual "you go, dude" comments or the like, but then Sehee says nothing. She smiles, and it has to be one of the most tragically beautiful things Soonyoung's ever seen. His heart fractures, just a little, and he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to fix it.

He smiles it off. Tries to, anyways.

Chan complains that Soonyoung's too harsh that day.

•

Jihoon likes you.

Not in a "Mister Steal Yo' Girl" way, but he laughed at one of your jokes the first time you came over to Soonyoung's apartment, and ever since then, he's been convinced.

"You must feel like the luckiest guy on earth with her around," Jihoon says once you leave for the night.

Soonyoung has no idea how to tell him he's felt nothing but unlucky these past few weeks, so he doesn't.

•

He polishes up on his acting. As awful as it is to think, Soonyoung has gotten really, really good.

His smile looks genuine. It has to — he shows it to Minghao, who says it's "adequate," which basically means perfect to the lowly humans beneath him.

He's gotten good at responding to you too, copying how the male leads do it in dramas and movies. It's sort of easy.

He hates how easy it is.

Soon enough, you try befriending the whole group. Being Seungkwan's friend, you've always wanted to, but apparently this is the push you needed. The boys are quick to warm up to you because, as Soonyoung's new girlfriend, you're now a new teasing target besides Chan. The youngest was always the brunt until you came along.

You say you don't mind — that his friends are amazing despite all the jokes and chaos. He believes you.

Minghao keeps his distance, saying he doesn't want to get himself involved. He's still the only one to know the truth, and his judging stare only grows worse as the days pass. Soonyoung wants so badly to make it go away, but he knows the only way to do that would be to tell you the truth, and he's just not ready.

Soonyoung's never broken a heart before. He's never planned on it.

Sometimes life makes its own plans.

"My shift got moved to tomorrow," you tell him when he picks you up from class, one hand in his and the other in your pocket. He knows it means something, but he doesn't know what. Your lips purse into a line as you stare at your shoes. “I was thinking... could I come watch your dance practice? If that’s okay?”

Now, Soonyoung loves dancing. He loves dance. He loves to dance. Performing sends an unparalleled thrill rushing through his veins like the solar system hurtling through the universe, and it’s something he’s never felt doing anything else. Dancing with others is a beautiful connection, an emission of silent truths communicated through the body. Practice, however, is the dirty version of dance. It has to be built up first — polished. Which is why Soonyoung says what he says. He doesn’t even think it over.

“No.”

It’s what he says every time someone asks. He doesn’t invite people to practices — never has. Even after his prompt refusal, he doesn’t register his mistake until the light in your eyes wavers. It doesn't disappear — just ripples. Comes back weaker than before.

"Oh," you say. The word should sound dejected but it doesn't. There's a smile at your lips, and Soonyoung can't help but think it looks kind of like his. "That's— that's okay! I was just — I don't know, I guess I just thought... I wanted to..."

Meeting his gaze, you look at him with shaking eyes, almost as if it takes great strength to keep them on his. He tries to backpedal, but you continue.

"I'll be going home then. I've got an assignment due soon anyways, so..." You pull your hand from his grip and, from where you two were walking toward the fine arts building, turn the opposite way. Your dorm is on the other side of campus. "See you tomorrow, Soonyoung. Have fun at practice."

Something about your smile haunts him.

It's hollow; feels empty when you flash it at him before going. He thinks fake smiles all look like that — insincere. His smiles at you must be the same way.

For an awful moment, he's hopeful. Maybe this will be the trigger. Maybe you'll end this tonight — whatever "this" is that Soonyoung has with you. Maybe he won't have to tell any harsh truths at all.

He turns and walks to practice.

The routine feels lighter tonight, though Soonyoung can’t pinpoint why. His body almost floats, and while that sounds good, it’s not. The rhythm is off. He’s not landing when he should be.

His crew notices, especially Chan, who complains that Soonyoung’s too much of a cocksure choreographer to be making repeated mistakes like this. They tell him maybe everyone should take a break. He agrees, but only because he’s frustrated — and he shouldn’t channel his anger into dance. Not this one, at least.

Everyone spreads throughout the studios to the edges, where they lean their body weight on the walls and slide down, water bottles in hand. The room reeks of sweat and feet, but Soonyoung’s used to it by now. He guzzles down half of his water in one go and pulls out his phone.

[❤] Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to react all... cold? Seungkwan told me you never invite anyone to practice, so it makes total sense why you said no

[❤] If I’m ever crossing any boundaries, let me know, okay?

Of course you’d be understanding. Soonyoung wouldn’t be that lucky.

He tosses his phone haphazardly in his bag, groaning and throwing his head back so it hits the wall with a dampened thud. The pain is dull compared to the thoughts top-spinning in his mind.

Across the studio, Minghao clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Soonyoung when he opens his eyes to look at him. It only takes two reluctant nods for Minghao to understand the source of Soonyoung’s groans, and he does nothing to react but look away. Soonyoung thinks that’s almost worse than the judging eyes. At least at that point Minghao thought he was something other than a lost cause.

He doesn’t text you back. By the time he thinks of something a boyfriend would say, the time to say it has passed.

•

How much longer is he going to let this go on?

Soonyoung wonders that to himself as he sits, returned to Seungcheol's apartment for another one of his "getties" as people are so apt to call them. He's never understood the difference between a getty and a party, and he's always been too stubborn to ask, knowing he'd be mercilessly made fun of for not knowing something apparently all university students knew.

This one isn't so different from the last. More or less the same crowd, the same atmosphere as the night goes on. Only this time, when everyone's settled down in what can hardly be called a circle, Soonyoung's on the couch, sunken into the too-old cushions with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You're far from your last claimed spot with Seungkwan on that ratty old beanbag chair, sitting comfortably under Soonyoung's arm with a plastic cup of whatever Jeonghan concocted for you — which you've yet to drink much of.

Sehee sits across from you both while she laughs at something Wonwoo says. You laugh too, but Soonyoung barely notices, eyes glued to the girl they've been stuck on since she joined his dance crew over a year ago. He wants to tell her how beautiful she is when she smiles, even under the light of Seungcheol's dingy apartment, but he can't. He wants to tell her how he's felt for months, but you're next to him. He wants to have a fucking drink but all he has in his cup is fucking iced green tea because he knows if he drinks he'll fuck up again.

Just like last time.

"You okay?" you whisper in his ear at one point.

He turns to see your concerned expression, and it only makes Soonyoung hate this even more. He doesn't deserve your concern.

"I'm fine."

But he's not fine.

He doesn't participate in much conversation — only speaks when spoken to, and even then with few words. You seem to become tense next to him, but he does nothing to try and fix it. Just tonight, he's going to let himself be tired.

Three times, you offer to leave, and all three he refuses. You give up eventually, though he can tell you know something's off. God, if he were drunk, he wouldn't even have to think about you for a whole night.

Somehow the topic of discussion turns to couples, and suddenly, an entire room of eyes is on you and Soonyoung. He barely catches the question before you're already pondering your answer.

What do the two lovebirds love most about each other?

You look at him. At him, at him. He feels your stare in the dip of his throat because he can't seem to swallow anymore. It's like his soul is being scanned for viruses.

"Hmm..." You let your chin fall into your palm with a smile. It's real. Too real. "I like his resolve," you finally say. "If he wants to do something, he does it." With a loud exhale through your nose, you tilt your head, still meeting his eyes with your own. Soonyoung's mouth slightly parts, slack with something he can't name. "I could learn a thing or two from him."

The room bristles with your answer, various response piping up around. Soonyoung sort of registers Chan saying, "That's cute. I wanna vomit," but he's too busy thinking about you, about how you've come to like something about him as deep as that when all he's done is pretend to even like you at all.

And even when his mind swims with that, Sehee asks again.

"Then Soonyoung, what do you like about her?"

It sort of hurts. Soonyoung's not afraid to admit to himself that hearing Sehee ask what he likes about you sends pain straight through his ears to his heart. There's an awkward pause and everyone's looking at him expectantly and, god, he wishes he stole your drink when he had the chance.

"I..." His throat goes dry. His lips part, but there aren't any words to slip past them. "I, um..." He looks to you, and your eyes speak volumes. Everyone else in this room has a sort of... hungry look. They want to know Soonyoung's answer for one reason or another, maybe to tease with or to ridicule or even wish for themselves. But you, your eyes meet his and he knows you're not expecting anything. That hurts too. He doesn't know why. But even then, he can't think of the words. Any words. He steals a glance at Sehee, whose expression is curious, doe eyes slightly giddy from alcohol. She's pretty.

"I like her laugh," he says. It's not about you. "Whenever she laughs, I think to myself, 'What I wouldn't give to see her laugh again'."

Your eyes move to the plastic cup you've got gripped between two hands in your lap, and Seungkwan points out your flustered state to the entire room despite the fact everyone can see it as long as they've got working eyes. You purse your lips together to contain a smile, but it doesn't work. Even Soonyoung can see that.

He needs a drink.

Having to go to the bathroom is a lousy excuse, and Soonyoung knows it, but he whispers that in your ear anyways and retracts his arm from your shoulder before escaping. He does go to the bathroom, a small thing with a shower and no bath, but all he does in there is stare at himself in the mirror. And when that becomes too much, his feet.

Someone else eventually has to use the bathroom for its actual purpose, so he opens it to the banging fist outside and slides past the person back into the hallway. He pauses before walking all the way back. You're caught up in some other conversation now, laughing and dramatically waving your hands as you deny some crazy embarrassing story Seungkwan's trying to spill about you. Seems you've already integrated yourself with his friends more than he thought.

Since your attention is occupied, Soonyoung instead ducks into the half-kitchen — not necessarily out of sight, but no one's really paying attention anyways. He knows he shouldn't take any chances, but he really, really wants to let go. He's been wearing a facade ever since he said your name that night.

"I wouldn't, if I were you."

Minghao's voice has Soonyoung jerking up and banging his head on the door of the open fridge he was rummaging through. He winces in pain, kneading his fingers into his scalp as if that will do anything.

"Wouldn't what?" he snaps.

"I dunno." Minghao shrugs, and it's almost infuriating how nonchalant he is. "Do something you might regret, I guess."

He takes the yet unopened bottle from Soonyoung's hands, reaching beyond him to put it back in place. There's no point in fighting against him since he's undeniably right, but Soonyoung grumbles anyways. His eyes glance every few seconds to you on the couch. If you happen to hear anything...

Well, he doesn't know exactly. But he doesn't want to find out.

"You have to end it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just—" Soonyoung takes in a breath, too loud for his liking. He lowers his voice. "I can't, okay? I don't want to hurt her."

"So you're just going to date her based on false pretenses because you're too much of a coward to admit your mistakes?" Voice laced with sharpness, Minghao places his palms flat on the counter.

Soonyoung takes a deep breath through his nose, lips twisting in frustration. "Yeah, okay? Yeah," he whispers. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

A second passes. Minghao's brow furrows.

"And quite frankly," Soonyoung continues, "I'd rather you keep your nosy ass out of my business from now on."

He nearly storms off right then with the last word, but Minghao's fingers around his elbow stop him.

"You're going to get yourself hurt," Minghao warns through his teeth. He nods towards you. "And her in the process."

"We'll see about that."

Soonyoung has acted on impulse before. It happened with the pigeon, it happened with your name, and it's happening right now. Nothing is compelling him other than the absolute need to prove Minghao wrong, and even then, he doesn't know why.

He sits back down next to you, his spot saved by some miracle considering the surrounding company. The look on your face is happy, jovial. You must be having a right old time. His nerves strike with a feeling he's never quite experienced before.

When you study his face, no doubt not nearly as cheerful as yours, the expression you held falters to worry.

"You okay?" is once again the question on your lips, quiet, meant for his ears only.

Impulse is a scary thing. Soonyoung hates it almost as much as lying.

He leans in, crashing his lips on yours with his eyes half closed. His lips move and yours don't. Soonyoung can't even be sure you've closed your eyes, but at this very moment, he doesn't care. All he knows is he's angry and Minghao is watching.

This isn’t your first kiss — he knows because you’ve talked to him about this very topic. This is, however, to your understanding, the first “real” relationship you’ve ever been in. You told him yourself that you don’t really count that past kiss as your first, that you felt a bit... violated when it happened.

Soonyoung thinks this isn’t all too different.

He steals your second first kiss, and later, staring at the water-stained stucco ceiling of his bedroom, he kicks himself so hard it hurts.

•

You show up to movie night. Apparently Jihoon invited you — explained it like this:

“You won’t have to be so clingy with me if she’s here.”

At first, Soonyoung thinks Jihoon just wants to drop their roommate movie nights because he’s always complained about them, but Jihoon sticks around during Anastasia; sings along with you during Once Upon a December despite the fact that neither of you really know the words. He sits right in front of you two on the couch, cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, that of which he only offers to you twice and Soonyoung once.

Whatever. You’re a better cuddler than Jihoon anyway.

Somehow it doesn’t feel forced when you lean your head on Soonyoung’s shoulder, or when he wraps his arm around your waist to get comfortable. He blames it on how tired he is, how he always gets on movie night after a week of classes and practices and too much work for one person to handle. Jihoon complains all the time that he’s too touchy when tired.

You absentmindedly play with his fingers for most of the movie. He doesn’t mind.

It’s been about a month now.

Soonyoung doesn’t kiss you again after the first time. Doesn’t stop you, either, but you’re more of an on-the-cheek kind of person. He thinks you think he wants to take this slow, even though he initiated the first big step (as convoluted as it was). He lets you think what you want.

Nasty business, it is.

Cleaning a bowl that once held popcorn. All the grease that sticks to the side because Jihoon likes to use too much butter. All the grains of salt that get underneath Soonyoung’s fingernails. He’s washing, Jihoon’s drying. It’s an arrangement of sorts.

You’ve already left for the night, gone back to your dorm since it’s only a five minute walk or so through campus. Jihoon insisted on Soonyoung escorting you, but you only smiled sweetly and refused. Maybe Soonyoung should’ve argued harder against you. He didn’t though. That’s why he’s scrubbing a bit too harshly now — he doesn’t like messing up.

Seems that’s all he’s good for lately.

“You’re unhappy.”

Soonyoung stops scrubbing. The only noise in the whole apartment is the slow gurgle of the sink because even with a plug, such an old thing just lets the hot water seep away as the seconds go by. Jihoon’s gaze is on the pan he’s drying, but Soonyoung knows his heart is in the question. It always is.

“I’m not,” he tries to deny, but it’s difficult to fool a person like Jihoon. (Especially since Soonyoung can’t even convince himself.)

The non-stick pan from yesterday’s dinner clangs against an older one when Jihoon puts it away. He looks at Soonyoung, but by then he’s turned back to washing the popcorn bowl, so their eyes don’t end up meeting.

“I’ve known you since tenth grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?”

Soonyoung finds it hard to read Jihoon’s feelings most of the time. He didn’t realize he was such an open book the other way around.

Sighing, he continues to scrub the bowl, which has probably been clean for a minute already. “I’m just... stressed.”

“About?”

Minghao already knows; already thinks lowly of Soonyoung for it. If Jihoon knew... Soonyoung doesn’t know if he can take that.

So he lies. Again.

“Just the dance showcase.”

It isn’t a whole lie, not really, but he can’t call it the truth either.

Jihoon takes the bowl from Soonyoung’s grasp and rinses it under the tap. Since that’s the last dish, Soonyoung is stuck with nothing for his hands to do. They rest on the edge of the sink, but his fingers ache for a task.

Jihoon, the friend that he is, says, “That’s not for three months, though. I’m sure you’ll be perfect by then.”

“I don’t know...”

“Well I do.” Eyes meet eyes, a pair determined, a pair apprehensive. “Everything will work out.”

“...Okay.”

•

Soonyoung measures time in terms of you now.

When he last texted you. When he last saw you. When he last spoke to you.

It’s all a very elaborate calculation — how much time he’s spent on you versus how much time he should spend on you. No relationship is quite like this one, he thinks, and it’s quite the romantic notion out of context. The fact remains, every interaction he has with you only pulls him further and deeper into his lie.

Soonyoung’s time moves a bit slower now.

Faster, sometimes, but only when he doesn’t want it to.

•

You tell him you might be in love with him.

He says he might be in love with you.

He’s never hated lying more.

•

Jihoon is cleaning out the fridge when the buzzer goes off, so since he’s close by, he picks up the old corded phone attached to the wall. From his spot on the couch, Soonyoung looks up from his phone to see Jihoon cover the receiver and mouth your name. Jihoon makes some sort of gesture with his hands, and somehow Soonyoung understands that as, were you expecting her?

His eyes widen as it settles in that no, he’s not expecting you. The apartment is a mess.

Jihoon buzzes you in, hangs up, and immediately moves from the fridge to the coffee table, throwing the laundry he was planning on folding back in the plastic hamper and shoving the pile in Soonyoung’s lap.

“Take care of this,” he says. “I’ll clear up the kitchen.”

Right. Can’t have you thinking your boyfriend and his roommate are slobs.

Soonyoung reacts quickly, standing from his spot on the couch with the laundry basket in hand. He dashes to his room, where he plans to stuff the laundry in his closet and save that problem for later, but once he gets there, he realizes his room is even worse. There are dirty clothes dispersed all over his bed and old coffee cups littering his desk. Scrambling to shove the new laundry in his closet, the dirty clothes in the now empty hamper, and gather all the paper cups in his arms, Soonyoung’s breath starts to catch.

When he emerges from his room with two armfuls of garbage, he finds you at the door with Jihoon, your face hidden in his shoulder and your arms wrapped tight around his waist. Jihoon’s arms are up, almost like he’s being held at gunpoint, and his eyes widen even further when he catches sight of Soonyoung.

“Uhh... it’s for you.”

Soonyoung can hear your quiet hiccups even though they’re muffled in Jihoon’s shirt. He can’t bear it when people cry.

Yeah, maybe he’s been pretending to like you for a long time now, but he’s not a monster.

Right?

He likes you as a person. As a friend. And there’s no way he’s letting his friend go through pain like this.

Soonyoung swiftly discards his trash into the garbage bin and approaches you and Jihoon. At the commotion, you lift your head from Jihoon’s shoulder, eyes all red and puffy. Your lips press together, emotions nearly bursting at the seams, but they finally break out when Soonyoung opens his arms wide.

“C’mere.”

You practically flail into his embrace, arms wrapping around his torso in a vice grip as you hide your face again. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay — he knows you’re not.

Jihoon stands in the doorway for a few seconds, just looking at you and Soonyoung clutching at each other in the middle of the apartment before he shuts the front door and clears his throat.

“I’ll just, uh, I’ll be — um. Mhm. Yup.”

He escapes to his room.

Soonyoung squishes his cheek to your temple as you both stay there. You’re shaking, and his arms squeeze tighter. If only he could make it stop. He doesn’t know what to say or do to make you feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, though quiet and hesitant.

You shake your head, mumbling something he can’t quite make out. He pulls back a bit, just enough to see your face and gently cup your cheeks in his palms. His thumbs rub at your cheeks, smoothing any stray tears across your skin.

“What’s that?”

“Just...” Your eyes glisten. His heart beats. “Could you please just hold me?”

And he does.

Decidedly, his bed is much more comfortable than standing in the living room, so he sways, rocking side to side with small steps that force you to walk backwards. His smile, though, is reassuring, and you follow his guidance without much complaint. He sits you down on his bed, thankful that he cleaned up beforehand, and slowly leans you down so you’re both on your sides, facing each other. Pulling you closer, he lets you rest your head on his chest. Your hand lies flat on top of him, but eventually your fingers curl, clutching a bit of Soonyoung’s shirt between them. Silent tears fall from your eyes to his chest, but he doesn’t care.

His arm underneath you wraps around, hand landing on your back so his thumb can rub soothing circles.

It’s quiet.

Funny. Soonyoung used to dislike silence with you — always felt the need to fill it with conversation or jokes or laughter. He wonders when it was last since he felt that way.

Soonyoung doesn’t know how much time passes. His eyes stick to his bedroom ceiling as he holds you close, thoughts on everything and nothing all at once. Are you asleep? Your tears stopped some time ago.

His question is answered when your voice, small and unsure, breaks the long-standing silence.

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you about it?”

He cranes his neck to look at you, but it doesn’t really work. “Of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I just... I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not.”

“I know, but—”

“You’re not.”

You look up at him finally, and seeing your smile sends warmth through his blood. Your face is still looks wrecked from tears gone by, but your smile pushes all that out of the way.

“Thank you,” comes past your lips in a whisper. Then, after a moment of waiting, you say, “It’s just that... I... this — ugh.” You hide your face in his shirt again. “This is so embarrassing. I don’t even know why I got so worked up.”

Soonyoung doesn’t respond to that, just pats your back a few times and encourages you to keep going. You toy with the fabric of his shirt.

“This guy I used to know — I thought I’d never see him again, but he showed up today. Ran into him when I was walking back from the convenience store.” You bite the inside of your lip. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time, but, I don’t know, I guess seeing him just brought all these memories back all at once.”

“Bad ones?”

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Sure, you could say that.”

The silence comes back, and your brows furrow, almost like you’re trying to solve the problem all on your own. But you don’t have to. Soonyoung is here.

“Do you remember when I told you about my first kiss? Like, my real first kiss?”

Soonyoung hums. Of course he remembers.

“Back in high school, I used to have this friend. Sammy. She was — god, she was beautiful. And kind, and smart, and just... amazing. I miss her a lot. She’s abroad now, travelling the world with her sister. I think she’s in Peru now.” You chuckle at the mention of your old friend, but soon your smile twists into a frown. “This guy... I don’t like saying his name, but he liked Sammy. Everyone did, I don’t blame him for that, honestly. He was pretty popular back then — one of those sports boys, you know? Thinking about it now, he could’ve easily gotten with Sammy if he hadn’t been so conniving.”

“Conniving?”

“Yeah, he was... I don’t know how he got the idea in his head, but he came to me first. He kept hanging out with me, taking me on these... dates? But they weren’t really dates, all we did was talk about Sammy — what she liked, what she didn’t like. I knew he was using me, but I just... let him, I guess. Maybe back then I was just so caught up in being needed that I didn’t really mind being used.”

Soonyoung hugs you tighter.

“I guess he felt sorry, maybe? Right before he went to go ask Sammy out, he just... laid one on me. It was stupid. Like a pity kiss for my service or whatever. I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything, but it felt so... degrading. Like all I deserved was some action from a conventionally good-looking guy."

Your tears come back, brimming at the edge of your eyelids.

“I don’t know, it just — it just made me feel so...”

You take a breath. Exhale.

“...worthless.”

Soonyoung doesn’t fail to see the irony here, at least, but he feels slightly lifted. Whoever this guy is, Soonyoung’s a million times better.

“You’re not worthless,” he says — because he knows it’s true.

“I know.” You readjust yourself curled around him, wiping away the tears which haven’t fallen. “I mean, I know now.” Sighing, you wrap your arm around his waist, somehow pulling him closer than he already was. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For being you. For letting me be me.”

“It is my absolute pleasure to serve you, your majesty.”

You wack him with the sleeve of your sweater. “You’re such a dork!”

Your laugh is nice. Soonyoung hopes to hear it again soon.

��You know,” you say, eyes closed as you lie there with him on his bed. “Normally I would’ve gone to Seungkwan with my problems, but tonight...”

“Tonight?”

“You make me feel safe, Soonyoung. Thank you.”

His eyes close. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “That, and if I told Seungkwan, he would’ve found the guy and beat him to a pulp.”

“Why can I see that?”

“Because it’s true.”

You stay the night.

•

With a group of friends as big as Soonyoung’s, it’s about once every blue moon that the boys find a time that works for everyone, especially coming up on finals season. They all have their own worries around this time: the dance showcase, the big play, last-minute assessments, and — of course — finals.

So when they’re all free for barbecue one night, everyone’s ecstatic. Reservations are made, gratuities are calculated, and the group chat blows up every few hours with various changes to plans. (Mostly from Mingyu, who’s eager to show off his grilling skills.)

But of course, university is university, and it’s inevitable that someone has to bail out. That someone being Soonyoung.

The dance showcase creeps up a bit faster than anyone likes, and now Soonyoung’s professor is forcing him to choreograph an entire song for some freshmen only a month before the whole thing goes onstage.

First of all, who signs up for a showcase only four weeks before the performance? Who lets them sign up?

And second of all, doesn’t his professor realize Soonyoung has a life? He’s got other dances to work on, other classes to study for, friends to have barbecue with. How is he supposed to cram an entire choreography — not the mention the time it’ll take to teach the freshmen — into his already hectic lifestyle?

But Soonyoung is a people-pleaser. He doesn’t say no.

Instead, he regretfully messages the group chat, saying he can’t hang out tonight in favour of attempting to choreograph at least a quarter of the song in one sitting. He gets the usual whining, but they all know they can’t change his mind, so it fades out fast.

What he doesn’t expect is for them to invite you instead.

“It’s a thirteen person reservation,” Seungcheol reasons. “Besides, she’s basically one of us by now.”

Soonyoung can’t exactly argue with that.

So, you go to the restaurant with them while Soonyoung heads to the studio. Minghao picks you up along with Vernon and Chan, which sends an anxious bit of worry down Soonyoung’s spine, but he does nothing about it. If Minghao wanted to tell you, he would’ve by now.

You send him a good luck text.

[🍥] Don’t let those kids work you into the ground!

He stares at your words for a bit, distracted from finding the song he’s supposed to use. Your contact name is different now — one of those naruto fishcakes because of that time you took him out for ramen. That night had been full of laughter and loud, borderline obnoxious slurping, ending with the beautiful finale of Soonyoung throwing a fishcake straight into your open mouth.

You were the one that sweet-talked you both out of getting banned.

Soonyoung finally opens his music app and finds the song the freshmen requested (a rather boring one, if you ask him) which he sets to max volume. He doesn’t bother plugging his phone into the speaker system, not when he’s the only one in the studio.

Maybe he can do this.

•

“The trick is to add eggs and use less water,” you say as you scoop more batter onto the waffle iron.

Jihoon snorts from where he sits at the table, still shoveling more whipped cream and strawberry-smothered waffle in his mouth. “Are you sure the trick isn’t to just not be Soonyoung?”

“Hey!” Soonyoung pauses his own eating just to pout. “My waffles are good!”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

Both you and Jihoon laugh at Soonyoung’s expense, only further accentuating the pout on his face. You and Jihoon are too alike in that aspect. Well, actually, Soonyoung knows you’d never laugh at him, but he still can’t be sure about Jihoon. One time, back in high school, Soonyoung tripped over (what he thought was) a dead bird, and Jihoon laughed for hours — though Soonyoung always exaggerates the story into him laughing for days.

You sit down next to him with your own plate of waffles. There’s flour dusted on your arms, but you don’t seem to mind.

“You’ve got a little...” You point a finger at the corner of your mouth.

He knows. Soonyoung can feel the cool whipped cream right where you say it is.

He smiles wide. “I’m saving it for later.”

“Hmm...”

You say nothing, just smile as you lean in, kissing the corner of his lips. It’s quick, chaste, and barely a real kiss, but Soonyoung’s heart bounces in his chest. He’s never been kissed like that before.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to be loved.

That thought, though, he pushes back for another time.

“Gross. You guys made me lose my appetite,” Jihoon says. He keeps eating.

•

With eyes drooping shut every few seconds, Soonyoung decides it’s time to call it quits on the chemistry homework. It’s nearly one in the morning, anyways. He flips his textbooks shut and gathers up all his notes, putting them all in a haphazard pile that he’ll worry about in the morning. Swivelling in his chair, his eyes land on you.

Oh. He forgot you’re here.

You’re snuggled up on top of his covers, one arm wrapped around the pillow your head should be on, eyes closed as even, slow breaths come past your slightly parted lips. One of his hoodies is draped over your legs like a blanket. He wonders why you didn’t just get under the covers.

Well, he has been walking you home ever since he hadn’t some time ago. Maybe you were waiting.

He feels a bit guilty as he brushes his teeth and washes his face, but not too bad since you only have afternoon classes tomorrow. Maybe he can treat you to something in the morning to make up for it.

After he tucks you under a fluffy throw blanket, he crawls into bed and lies on his side, facing you.

Your other hand is lax, palm up and fingers curled, almost like you’re holding something invisible.

His hand would fit perfectly.

The tips of his fingers graze over the lines on your palm. Slow. Trepidatious.

You shift, fingers unconsciously curling around Soonyoung’s hand.

He closes his eyes.

•

The moves aren’t working.

The moves aren’t working and the music isn’t working and the dance isn’t working and nothing is working.

Soonyoung groans in frustration, almost screaming with his fingers threaded through his damp hair as he messes up yet another landing. He’s drenched in sweat, and it’s only been so many hours since the rest of the crew left for the night, not that he’s kept track.

It’s less than a week until the showcase. Six days, as Chan is apt to remind everyone with his stupid holiday countdown app.

That freshmen choreography is already over and done with — Soonyoung’s made it, he’s taught it to those over-eager nuisances, and if they need anything more, that’s on them. They’re no longer his responsibility.

That’s not what has him in such a state right now.

His solo — the one he’s been planning for the entire semester — it just doesn’t... feel right. He’s been slaving over it for days now, reworking the steps, figuring out what to take out and what to replace. But the more he fixes it, the more it feels wrong.

He can’t get the steps right. He can’t get anything right.

What is wrong with him?

He starts the music again at exactly one minute, thirty-eight seconds. The moves are clear in his mind. One step. Two steps. Sweep. Spin. Jump—

He falls.

The music goes on.

Soonyoung slams his fist onto the softwood floor, cursing at his ineptitude. He stays like that for a moment, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched so tight his nails dig into his palms. The song ends, only to restart again, but Soonyoung barely notices.

Screw the music. He stands; positions himself; tries again.

Again.

He falls.

He yells out at the floor, at his feet, at whatever is holding him back.

His reflection in the mirror stares back at him.

Mind blank, he sits there, legs stretched out in front of him as he hunches over, eyes closed to the world around. His breaths come out shaky and uneven, but even though every moment sitting still feels like eternity, his lungs fail to calm.

Someone knocks on the door, and for a second, Soonyoung thinks it’s Jun coming to tell him to go home for the night. He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t look up.

The door opens, he can hear the quiet shuffling of hesitant feet that have removed their shoes just because the sign on the door told them to.

“Soonyoung?”

Your voice is clear — like a single drop of water coalescing into a whole — and it cuts through the sound of blood rushing past Soonyoung’s ears.

He looks up to see you standing a good length away, almost like you’re scared to approach. You’re wearing pyjamas, a thick sweater pulled over your shoulders and fuzzy socks donning your feet. Something bulges from the pocket of your sweater.

“What are you...”

“Minghao called me.”

In the back of his mind, a small part of Soonyoung wonders exactly when you and Minghao have gotten close enough to call each other, but the thought doesn’t stay for long. It can’t, really, not when you’re in front of him.

When Soonyoung says nothing more, you take another step forward. “What’s wrong?”

To anyone else, he might say nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong.

His voice breaks when he tries to laugh.

“Everything.”

Your eyes soften, a small smile tugging at your lips. It’s not one of those pitiful smiles, he can tell, but it’s not fake, either. You bring your hands together in front of you, fiddling with the tips of your fingers as your eyes move from them to his gaze again. “I’m coming over. Is that okay?”

He nods.

First, you find his phone and turn down the music until it’s gone. You sit right behind him, legs spread on either side of his body, and you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing flush to his back and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. He squirms a bit.

“I’m all sweaty,” he tries to argue, but you only squeeze him tighter.

“Yeah, you are.”

He stops resisting. It’s much too hot, what with his hours of constant exercise and your thick layers, but he can’t complain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” This time it’s your turn to ask.

“...Just hold me?”

And you do.

You press a kiss to the back of his neck. Slow, soft, and when your lips leave his searing skin, your forehead replaces them.

That’s when the dam breaks.

Hot, fat tears roll from Soonyoung’s eyes down his cheeks as sobs rack through his chest. The vibrations shake him and you all at once, but your hold never falters. He can’t see anything, only a blur of what should be his legs and your arms wrapped around his stomach. His hands go to clutch at your arms, desperate to hold onto something; to not let him sink.

It’s ugly, the way he cries, but you let it happen. You hold him.

This is what it’s like.

Eventually, his desperate hands find yours, his arms crossed so his right is over your right, his left over your left. His fingers roam over the smooth backs of your hands until they reach your fingers and interlock. The palms of your hands are warm compared to his fingertips.

You’ve locked onto his body language by now — you’re fluent, so you know to continue pressing reassuring, slow kisses into his skin. You know to whisper little words that should mean nothing, but coming from your lips, mean everything.

He’s going to be okay.

For some reason, coming from you, he believes it.

You hold him until the hiccuping stops, until the tears are just dry streaks on his face, until his breath comes out in long streams instead of bursts.

His eyes stay shut as he feels you shift. One of your hands slips out of his grasp, your arm reaching back, and Soonyoung almost whines until he feels its return.

“Look,” you whisper.

It itches to open his eyes, but when he does, he sees what’s in your hand, right in front of him. A small stuffed tiger sits in your palm, positioned anatomically incorrect like a teddy bear, a velvet heart between its paws. Stitched white letters read:

Go get ‘em, tiger!

You chuckle lightly, repositioning yourself so your chin hooks over his shoulder. “Cheesy, I know. I was going to give this to you the day of the showcase, but I think you could use it right about now.”

Gingerly, Soonyoung lifts his hands together, and you place the plush in his awaiting palms.

His voice is slow to restart, but he manages to say, “Thank you.”

Hands now free, you wrap yourself around his waist again. “Anything for you.”

Such a simple sentence, that, and yet the confession sends blood to Soonyoung’s ears in the form of an awfully embarrassing blush. He runs his thumbs over the fuzzy fabric of the tiger plush.

“Soonyoung?”

“Hm?”

You press your lips to the crook of his shoulder, voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t force you to stop practicing. I know this is important to you.” Soonyoung feels your breath fan over his skin. “But I also want you to rest — you shouldn’t overwork yourself.”

One of your hands rises to his chin, guiding it up so he looks forward at the studio mirror and meets your gaze in the reflection.

“Whaddya say we do, hm?” You tilt your head, and Soonyoung thinks his pupils may be heart-shaped. “Do you want to practice more? Or can I take you home?”

“Just...” He swallows what’s left in his dry mouth. “Just once more.”

You smile. “Okay.”

As you get up, you run your hands up to Soonyoung’s shoulder and down to his hand, where you playfully pretend to pull him up with you. He laughs, hiding his face behind the tiger plush for a second before he stands, tugging your hands as he does so you fall into him when he rights himself. Both your hands are squeezed between him and you, while his unoccupied arm finds its way to your side.

Another smile tugs at your lips at the proximity. You shift your hands up so they wrap over his shoulders, linking behind his head. Leaning closer, your eyes gleam under the fluorescent lights. To the sound of silence, you sway together, waltzing in the dead of night.

“I’ll be outside, okay?”

Soonyoung’s expression tightens, eyebrows shifting in confusion. “Why?”

“Well,” you say. “I know how you feel about audiences during practice.”

Something about your smile right now makes Soonyoung feel so undeniably safe. You understand him. Never once have you questioned him over why he doesn’t invite you to practices, never once did you pressure him to change that.

“Do you know how I feel about you?”

“Hmm, do I?”

Do you?

“Stay.”

And you do.

•

Here’s the thing about dance showcases:

They’re big, they’re flashy, they take the entire year to plan, and they’re over in one night.

Soonyoung stands in the wings, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, hopefully not loud enough for anyone to hear. He watches as the group performing before his solo finishes up their dance, though he knows there is at least a minute before he’ll have to go on.

A tap on his shoulder makes him turn his head, and he sees Sehee’s smiling face.

“Nervous?” she asks, her voice hidden beneath the music.

She’s all dolled up, dressed in her costume with a sleek leather jacket to bring everything together. Her eyes glimmer just as much as her eyelids.

“You have no idea,” Soonyoung jokes, but his heart isn’t really in it.

Sehee tilts her head; blinks a few times. “You’ll do amazing. You always do.”

For what it’s worth, Soonyoung hasn’t forgotten his attraction. Sehee’s words soothe him to some extent, pump him up, even. It’s slightly terrifying — how much she still affects him even now.

You’re in the audience tonight, third row from the front, somewhere in the middle. Your seat is between Seungkwan’s and Jihoon’s, whereas all the other boys came (almost) too late and had to find seats elsewhere.

The music ends, applause erupts, and Soonyoung knows it’s his turn. He waits for the group to exit on the opposite side, and when the resounding claps quiet down, he takes the first step onstage.

Something Soonyoung has almost always known: stage lights are blinding. If they’re set up right, anyone onstage will have a damn hard time seeing anyone in the audience. He can’t see you — couldn’t during his previous performance with the crew, either. The only reason he knows you’re there is the million assuring texts you sent him before you had to turn off your phone for the show.

But he knows you’re there. He knows you’re watching.

Soonyoung stands with his left foot on the spike mark, right where he’s practiced time and time again ever since they transitioned into the space. Music floods his veins, and the world is gone.

He wouldn’t call it an escape. Soonyoung doesn’t use dance to get away, it’s not like that. This world he creates with dance — this other space where nothing exists except him and the music and the floor and the feeling — he chooses to go there. Euphoria, he thinks it might be called. Euphoric.

The space takes him. He lets it.

And then it’s over.

Soonyoung’s breath leaves him in bursts, his shoulders heaving despite how hard he fights to keep them still in his final pose. His back faces the audience, his right arm stretched out and up, fingers curling around nothing. Stars dance before his eyes — which he fails to catch with his outstretched hand.

He thinks he can faintly hear applause, but it’s nothing compared to the heart beating in his chest. Your voice plays in his ears, yet he knows it’s simply his imagination — his recollection.

I like your dance, you’d said that night. I’m no expert, no judge, but I like it. I love it, honestly. Your dancing... I don’t know. I wish I had the words. It’s like... a little box.

A little box?

You’ve got a little box in your hand. Brown, maybe the size of your palm. You open it and there’s no bottom, no sides, no shape, just an expanse of universe in blues and pinks and purples and whatever colours we don’t know exist. You look inside and reach your hand in, somehow fitting in the tiny yet infinite space. Your fingers brush through starlight like strands of silk, like the rays are minnows you’ve met during a summer dip. Like that. A little box.

I thought you said you didn’t have the words?

I don’t. Not enough.

Soonyoung vaguely registers the lights going black, the way his feet drift him offstage, the music of the seniors’ finale.

At some point, the lights are back on. Not the stage lights, but the harsh fluorescents once the audience has fully filtered out into the lobby. Most of them will leave, but the family and friends of performers are sure to stay, waiting there to congratulate and fawn over the dancers as soon as they’re let go for the night. Somewhere in his mind, Soonyoung knows his friends are outside waiting for him — him, Jun, Minghao, and Chan.

Roses are passed around. He’s never seen a blue rose before, but some dancers walk around with them as they change out of costume and gather their things. He points out a yellow rose from the bunch presented to him, but it turns out to be a bouquet for him specifically, and he takes the whole thing with his jaw slightly hanging. Everything’s a bit... slow. Soonyoung feels like he’s wading through water.

He hasn’t changed yet, simply standing in his costume as he watches people go back and forth. Other performers move from dressing room to dressing room, cleaning up what they have to while simultaneously patting each other’s backs. Techs go around making sure everything’s in order, nothing lost or forgotten. They put away the MC’s microphones and bother the dancers for not taking proper care of props even though it’s only been one night.

Another tap on his shoulder; it’s Sehee again.

“Can I talk to you?” she asks.

He follows her to a corner of the stage, where the curtains hang and hide the two — for the most part.

She turns almost too abruptly, causing Soonyoung to stumble over his own two feet to avoid bumping into her.

“This is really hard for me to say,” she starts. “But I have to get it out.”

Soonyoung nods, maybe saying something close to a confirmation, but he can’t really tell. He’s a little lightheaded. Sehee has changed out of her leather, instead now in a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. That’s the thing about Sehee, though, she has that unnamed sort of... effortless beauty. Even with her stage makeup wiped off, she glows.

“This might be one of the last times I ever work with you, you know? Next year, my parents are making me quit dancing so I can focus on my major. It sucks, yeah, but they’re right. I need to focus if I want to succeed. You know that too, don’t you? The need to succeed?” She takes a breath; laughs bitterly. “Sorry, I’m getting off track... I just — I wanted to tell you this because if I don’t tonight, I might never get the chance again.”

Maybe Soonyoung has dreamed of this moment. He can’t be sure, not yet, so he lets her continue.

“I like you, Soonyoung. I have for a while. But things happened, and you got together with...” her voice trails off. “And you seemed happy, after a while. I thought maybe I could just keep it hidden but, I don’t know, I think I need to tell you, to get closure because I'm not sure if I can go on without at least—”

Choices. Soonyoung — and everyone else in the world — has only made it through life with decisions. He’s made good ones. Bad ones. He’s had regrets and he’s had none. This, though, this choice is intensely apparent.

Apparent in the way he knows it will affect much more than he wishes.

He kisses her.

God, this is what he wanted, right? What he’s wanted for so long. He used to toss and turn at night over the thought of Sehee’s eyes; her smile; her lips.

And on his, they were heaven. Plump and soft just like the romance novels say, moving at the exact pace of his heartbeat.

The hand holding his bouquet drops to his side as the other goes to cup Sehee’s cheek. Faintly, the sound of paper fluttering to the ground reaches his ears, but nothing can distract him from this moment.

Until, of course, it ends.

Sehee pulls away. “We can’t— I don’t—”

Someone clears their throat.

Soonyoung turns, finding Minghao standing just off from the curtains, arms crossed and face contorted in thinly-veiled anger.

And you.

You’re standing next to Minghao, obviously shocked — over being seen or what you’ve seen, Soonyoung doesn’t know. Hands fisted and held close to your chest, your eyes widen as they meet Soonyoung’s.

It’s not so dramatic as the movies.

Soonyoung stares at you, tongue unmoving with nothing to say. You stare back, almost frozen, until Minghao gently takes you by your shoulders, forcing you to turn and leave the way you must’ve come. Nothing happens in the time it takes. Soonyoung simply watches.

He’s never been good at reading lips, but he thinks he knows exactly what Minghao whispers in your ear.

There’s something you should know.

Sehee mutters, “Sorry,” and leaves. She looks guilt-ridden as she does, but even in his half-frozen state, Soonyoung knows all of this is on him.

He stands alone in that corner of the stage, the only noise being the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of the last stragglers in the dressing rooms. His hands clench, and the brown paper of the bouquet crumples. He looks at it then, at the yellow roses and baby’s breath, at the beige note that’s fallen to the floor.

Slowly, he crouches, picking up the note with his thumb and forefinger.

Congratulations Soonyoung!! I know how hard you’ve worked for this night, which is why I ordered these to be delivered. Joshua told me yellow roses represent happiness, or something. Pretty, right? You deserve every happiness, so I decided to start with flowers. Tonight may be over, but who knows, maybe we’ll find happiness in tomorrow, too.

It’s stupid. It’s not a love letter. It’s laced with love, though, and he hates that he recognizes your handwriting.

Time moves heavily as Soonyoung turns to the backstage door. He’s the only one left now, his station in the second boy’s dressing room is messy, unlike everyone else’s. His reflection stares back at him while he sits in front of the mirror, motions halved in speed as he wipes off his eye makeup.

It’s over.

When was the last time he thought about how it would end?

He changes out of costume, arms growing stiff, and stuffs everything in his bag without much care for how. His regular clothes itch; he longs to scratch at his skin, but he doesn’t.

He leaves your bouquet on the counter.

His friends stand in a circle in the lobby, brows furrowed and voices hushed as they discuss... something. Soonyoung has a bad feeling he knows exactly the topic. Minghao isn’t there. Nor are you.

Jihoon isn’t around, either, but Soonyoung remembers he had to leave immediately after the performance. Something about an essay. It doesn’t really matter now, not compared to this.

When he approaches his friends, they quiet down further. Half of them look his way with a frown, while the other half choose to avert their eyes. What do they know?

Seungkwan stands out the most. His arms are crossed, his lips are pressed together in a thin line, and anger radiates from his very being. Of course he’s mad. You’re his friend.

The silence consumes Soonyoung as he nearly shrivels under his friends’ gazes. He must have taken his time, the lobby is empty except for them.

“Where’s Minghao?” he asks.

Seungkwan lurches forward, but both Seungcheol and Wonwoo bring up their arms to hold him back.

“Where’s Minghao? Where’s Minghao?” he seethes. He jabs an accusatory finger in Soonyoung’s face. “You just kissed some girl and broke my best friend’s heart and you’re asking about Minghao?!”

So they don’t know. Not really.

Soonyoung endures the scolding. The looks. The questions. The noise.

No answers are really given.

The great thing about having best friends is that they know not to pamper you when you’ve done wrong. That’s also the worst thing about having best friends.

Seungkwan would go on and on, surely, but soon enough the boys notice how little Soonyoung is reacting — how his face and expression is slack and dull.

Joshua holds up a finger to quiet down the ones still complaining, then gestures towards the front entrance.

“Minghao left with her a while ago.” The look on his face is one of pity. Soonyoung hates it.

He nods; stuffs his hands in his pockets as he turns to the door.

“Wait! I’m not done—!” Seungkwan struggles against Wonwoo and Seungcheol, but he’s no match.

Soonyoung doesn’t stick around long enough to hear what happens next.

He has no sense of what to do when he walks out that door. Go home, maybe.

The night breeze hits him with more force than it should, making his eyes go dry and his lips tremble. Outside, everything is almost too loud. There’s traffic on all sides, surrounding the lot of the theatre; the sound of humming engines and honking horns assaults his senses.

He walks — though it feels like wandering — to the parking lot, where he plans to look around for a bus stop.

You’re there.

A mirage, he thinks at first, but you’re really there, sitting on one of those concrete barriers, legs outstretched and ankles crossed. You have your head lowered as you sit, hands braced on the cold concrete.

His held breath escapes him, and you look up.

“You’re here,” you say. The smile on your lips, ever so slight and ever so bitter, causes a ringing in his ears. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“I...”

“It’s a lie, right?” Your eyes glisten, but no tears fall. “You wouldn’t— I’m not— I’m not that naive, am I?”

Soonyoung’s lips part, but nothing moves past them. His hands itch to leave his pockets, but with nothing to reach for, they stay still.

“...I see.”

You drop your head again, bringing your hands together to fiddle with your fingernails. He hears your breath, shaky as it is, and his lungs constrict.

“God, it felt so real. I thought— I guess I don’t know what I thought, huh?” A shiver runs through you. “Was any of it real?” you ask the ground.

Soonyoung longs to answer. That’s the thing, though.

He doesn’t know.

Can any of it be real?

You laugh. Before, your laugh was spring strawberries; summer warblers; winter snowdrops. Now, your dry laughter echoes in Soonyoung’s mind like a pebble in a failed attempt of skipping stones.

“Guess not.”

You hop off the concrete barrier, wiping off your pants of dust and dirt. Still, you don’t meet his eyes.

Soonyoung’s heart beats in a way he knows isn’t natural. Guilt seeps through every orifice. “You’re not... you’re not yelling at me. You’re not crying — you’re not angry,” he stumbles through. “Why?”

It’s then that when you meet his eyes, he notices the dried tracks lining your cheeks. You have been crying, just in the time it took for him to come across you.

“I’m just disappointed in myself, Soonyoung,” you say. “I’m the one who fell for it so easily. I’m the one that was tricked. I’m the one who—” a breath “—who loved someone that didn’t love me back.” You step closer, arms limp at your side. “Once I get home, sure, I’ll cry my eyes out. Is that what you want to hear? I’ll curse myself for being so... so stupid.”

“It’s not your fault—”

“No, it’s not. This is not my fault. All I did was believe the words you said to me. All I did was hand myself to you on a silver platter.” Unshed tears brim at your eyelids, but it seems you refuse to let them fall. “But you know the worst part, Soonyoung?”

Everything?

“The worst part is I can’t yell at you. I’m not angry because I fell in love with someone who doesn’t love me back and it hurts and I can’t bring myself to hate you despite being told you’ve never thought about me the way I think about you.”

A breathy gasp escapes you, and you turn on a dime, the sight of your back an icy reminder to Soonyoung of what he’s yet to learn. You take a deep breath to gather yourself, shoulders rising and falling.

“I’ll be going now. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

Soonyoung doesn’t move from his spot when you walk away, or when you get into Minghao’s car, which pulls away after a moment of sitting there in its parking spot. His feet are stuck in stiff mud, unable to shift, even.

Perhaps he stands there for too long. It’s not until he’s staring down the front of his apartment that he realizes one of his friends must have dropped him off.

•

He hasn’t heard from you in a few days. He hasn’t heard from anyone in just as long.

Jihoon already knew (not everything, but enough) by the time Soonyoung rolled out of bed the day after. He hasn’t said anything about it, but Soonyoung can tell this silence isn’t the same as usual. They rarely eat meals together anymore. Last movie night, Jihoon didn’t even pretend to be busy, instead saying he simply wasn’t in the mood.

Seungkwan hasn’t left your side ever since... that happened. If Soonyoung happens to see you on campus, which is almost never, he backs out of approaching you because of the sheer force that is Seungkwan’s glare. Besides, he wouldn’t know what to say even if he did find the courage to face you.

Classes go by in blurs. Not quickly, like scenery past a car window, but so slow that once Soonyoung leaves, he remembers nothing but hours upon hours of staring at his empty notebook, even if the lecture was only fifty minutes long. Days are kind of like that too.

•

Sehee apologizes. She shouldn’t, but she does.

Soonyoung didn’t really hate what he did at first. He liked her, after all.

But when Sehee chokes on her own words, pleading to whoever will listen that she’s not that kind of girl, Soonyoung regrets kissing her more than he ever wanted to kiss her in the first place.

•

please let me explain

I’m sorry

it’s been a while, but still

I’m sorry

[🍥] Explain what?

[🍥] ...

[🍥] Soonyoung?

sorry I just

I wasn’t expecting you to answer

[🍥] Maybe I shouldn’t have

wait

I’m sorry

[🍥] So I’ve heard

I just want you to know why what happened, happened

[🍥] But I already know why

it’s not that simple

[🍥] You lied because you suck at lying. Because you knew Sehee was there that night and panicked. I was just collateral damage

[🍥] ...

[🍥] No answer, huh?

[🍥] So it really is that simple

please wait

I’m just trying to figure myself out

[🍥] Let me help you

[🍥] You want my forgiveness because you feel guilty. Maybe you don’t know it yet, but you want me to say I forgive you just so you won’t have to carry this around for the rest of your life

[🍥] I know this isn’t some romcom. I know you’re not here to get me back

[🍥] So just let it go

[🍥] Let’s just forget about this. About what happened

what if I can’t

[🍥] I don’t know

[🍥] Figure it out, I guess

[🍥] But do it on your own

•

Soonyoung doesn’t measure his time anymore.

He wakes up. He eats. He goes to class. He skips lunch. He goes home. He eats. He falls asleep.

When was the last time he went out with someone? When was the last time he had a real conversation?

He doesn’t know.

•

[Minghao] You should tell everyone else

why

[Minghao] Would you rather they think you’re a cheater or just an idiot?

I don’t know

[Minghao] I think they deserve an explanation

[Minghao] Want me to do it for you?

does it even matter anymore

[Minghao] It’s your choice

[Minghao] You just have to make it

then tell them

I don’t care

[Minghao] Are you sure?

tell them

•

These days, Soonyoung stays late at the studio. No one really practices there anymore, not since the showcase finished and finals have rolled around. Actually, Soonyoung should be studying too, but he can’t find the motivation. He thinks it might be the guilt.

You were right. He doesn’t want to carry this around.

The thing is, despite spending entire evenings in the studio, he can’t remember anything as he walks home. It must be hours spent in there, and yet, when he walks out, he can’t recall a thing. Like he was never there at all.

Where does the time go?

With his luck, the elevator is broken when he returns to the apartment building, so he has to take the stairs. Normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but after hours of mindless, sloppy dancing, he’s much too tired. He fumbles with his keys when he tries to open the door, and he rests his forehead on the cool wood for a moment, sighing before he tries again.

The door creaks open. Though it’s late, the lights are still on, which Soonyoung frowns at when he realizes. Lately, Jihoon is never up when Soonyoung comes home. But there he is, sitting at the table right next to the kitchen with his eyes on his hands and his feet tucked under the chair.

Soonyoung freezes after shutting the door behind him, not wholly sure what to make of the scene before him.

After a moment of silence, Jihoon looks up from his fingers and meets Soonyoung’s gaze.

“Minghao called me today,” he says.

Soonyoung gulps, but doesn’t respond — doesn’t know how to.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first, you know.” His voice is slow, croaky; tired. “But it sort of makes sense, doesn’t it. I don’t know how I didn’t see it from the start.”

Slowly, Soonyoung slips off his shoes and steps further into the apartment. “So now you know. I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now.”

“I just have a question.”

Soonyoung pauses, halfway through the apartment and only a few meters from his bedroom door. He turns to face Jihoon, sighing through his nose and digging his palm into his eye sockets. “Fine,” he concedes. “What?”

“If you never loved — never liked her, why are you acting like this now?”

“Acting like what?”

“Like a dead man walking.”

Soonyoung scoffs, a dry, empty sound as he looks away for a moment before meeting Jihoon’s gaze again. “You’re kidding, right?” he asks. “I lied to someone for months. I pretended to love someone I didn’t. I used her because of my own stupidity and pride, and then I used Sehee, too—” Pausing, he closes his eyes; takes a breath. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s guilt. I feel guilty for... for everything.”

“That��s the only reason?”

“Excuse me?”

Jihoon rhythmically taps the pads of his fingers on the table. It’s not loud enough to be heard, but Soonyoung’s eyes train to the sight. “It’s only the guilt?”

“What else would it be?”

This time, it’s Jihoon who sighs. He looks at his hands again for a second. “Do me a favour,” he says without looking up.

“Look, I already—”

“Just do what I say.”

Soonyoung groans, but he knows he can’t argue with Jihoon and win — not now at least. He rubs his eyes, shoulders rising and falling as he takes in a deep breath. Mumbling under his breath, he says, “Fine.”

Jihoon stands from his chair, and in such stagnant silence, the sound of the legs squeaking on the floor is profound. He points to the middle of the apartment, the large bit of floor-space that’s too big to be considered part of the kitchen but too small to house any furniture.

“Stand right there.”

“...What?”

Without answering, Jihoon simply points at the floor again, and Soonyoung can only groan in defiance as he moves to stand in that spot. Grabbing a throw pillow from the couch, Jihoon steps a few feet away, facing Soonyoung with the pillow held in one hand at his side. He seems to consider something for a moment.

Soonyoung has never been unable to read Jihoon this much, so he asks, “What is this all about—”

Jihoon screams. Not a high-pitched screech, but a guttural battle cry, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen. Faster than he can comprehend, Jihoon runs towards him and tackles him to the ground. Soonyoung’s legs crumble as he falls, and he feels the throw pillow pressing onto his face.

This is it, he thinks. This is how he dies.

“Jihoon!” he cries, but his protest is muffled by the pillow. “What the fuck are you—!”

“You fucking idiot! You don’t know shit!”

“I know that!” Soonyoung thrashes to get the pillow off, but Jihoon is way stronger than he looks.

“You miss her you fucking buffoon! You’re all in your doom and gloom because you had a good thing going and had to go fuck it up!”

“I don’t!”

“Don’t try to argue with me, fucker, I know you better than anyone. Now scream!”

The pillows squishes further down, and while Soonyoung can still breathe, it’s far from comfortable. He continues to struggle even though he knows it’s useless.

“What?!”

“Scream into the pillow! You’re mad at yourself and you should be! Let it all out!”

“I—”

“Scream!”

And he does. He lets out a loud bellow that’s nothing but sound roaring from his lungs. He does it mostly to appease Jihoon — so that maybe he’ll finally get off.

But it feels good.

No, not good, really. It feels awful. Everything feels awful. Yet, something about screaming makes him want to do it again. He yells once more into the pillow, the sound muffled in the fabric and yet intensely remarkable. He screams and he screams and he screams until he can’t scream anymore and his voice is raw and there’s no more sound aside from the fractured gasps of his sobs. Tears soak into rough fabric, and he doesn’t even notice that Jihoon isn’t holding the pillow anymore — he’s pressing it to his face himself. His body shakes under Jihoon. Soonyoung feels pathetic, but he can’t stop.

He tries again to scream into the pillow, but his voice cracks and all he knows is to cry.

This is what it’s like.

Quietly, Jihoon maneuvers himself so he sits by Soonyoung’s head. He slowly lifts a corner of the pillow and peeks at Soonyoung’s red face. “So,” he whispers, voice soft and full of care. “What are you going to do now?”

Soonyoung wraps his arms around the pillow, hiding his face again.

“I don’t know,” he says. He’s never felt less sure of anything. “I don’t know.”

•

That night, Soonyoung cleans his room. He doesn’t reorganize or anything, just picks discarded clothes up off the ground and throws them in a hamper, spreads his blankets so his bed actually looks bed-like, and takes his overflowing garbage bin out to the door, where he’ll take it out tomorrow morning. As he stretches his arm between his bed and the wall, his fingers close around the sweater he’s trying to reach and... something else. When he brings his hand back up, a small tiger plush stares back at him.

Go get ‘em, tiger!

He stares at the words for a moment, sitting up on his bed and leaning his back against the wall. The plush feels frail in his hands, almost like the velvet heart held in the tiger’s paws could crumble at any moment. Maybe it will.

Soonyoung settles down above the covers that night, and the tiger sits on his other pillow.

The one that still smells like you.

•

He cries. (For the second time since you left.)

•

After everything that’s happened, one would think it would take a miracle to fix what’s been broken. Soonyoung thinks it will take more than that, but still; he’s no miracle worker. He thinks it will take magic to just see you again.

Turns out, it takes a coffee.

Jihoon forces Soonyoung to join him in visiting one of the campus cafes. He doesn’t think about it too much, just believes Jihoon’s trying to keep him alive with a little kick of caffeine. That thought is pushed away when Jihoon blocks him from sitting at the little table, pointing instead across the space to the student printing center.

You’re talking to a customer at the front counter, forearms rested on the white faux marble. A smile is on your lips as you say whatever it is you’re saying to the girl, and Soonyoung finds it almost impossible to tear his eyes away. But he does. He scans the rest of the building for a second. Seungkwan is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Minghao.

He turns to Jihoon, a question on the tip of his tongue.

“She told the bodyguards to back off,” Jihoon explains without needing to be asked. “It’s been a few days.” He nods his chin towards you. “Go on. Talk to her.”

Soonyoung shakes his head, gulping down the words he can’t yet think of. “I don’t... I’m not... ready.”

“If you back out now, you’re going to keep backing out until it’s too late.”

Jihoon’s eyes blaze with an unfitting determination for such a setting. He looks stupid, like some self-made, all-knowing relationship guru who likes the coke he’s gripping too much. Still, he’s right.

Soonyoung licks his dry lips and looks at you again. You’ve sat down, relaxed after having helped that customer and now conversing with one of the other students working there. He misses the way you looked when you were happy — when you were happy with him.

What will it take to see that again?

What will it take to hold you again?

His feet move before his doubts can stop him, and the scene feels awfully familiar. This time though, Soonyoung can’t help but feel like the bad guy.

You don’t notice him until he’s right in front of you, and he doesn’t know what hurts more: the immediate frown, or the fake smile you use to cover it up.

“Hi, what can I do for you today?”

If Soonyoung had to define heartache, he might use this moment. Feigning to forget rather than acknowledging the past... it’s effective, but it hurts.

“Can...” He hesitates and curses himself for it. “Can we talk?”

“About printing, yes. About anything else? I really would rather we didn’t,” you say under your breath. It’s hushed, and you don’t shy away when Soonyoung leans closer to hear. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

“But there’s something I need to say.”

“I don’t think I want to hear anymore apologies, Soonyoung.”

“It’s not that,” he argues.

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “It’s not an apology?”

“No— I mean, well, yes I want to apologize. I don’t think I’ll ever stop apologizing, but— but that’s not what I—”

“Soonyoung.”

He stops at your word, knowing that speaking will only get him further into trouble. Around you, his words keep failing. Instead, he meets your eyes, which under more inspection, seem hardened.

Have eyes ever looked so hardened when brimmed with tears?

“I don’t know if you know this, but seeing you makes me hate myself.” By now, your coworker has walked to the back, probably to respect your privacy. Your voice almost cracks. “I’ve felt worthless before, but Soonyoung, do you even realize what that — what you did to me?”

He barely breathes before saying, “What if I... what if I said I fell in love with you? Somewhere along the way?” A pause. Your eyes waver, but steady themselves. “What if I said I love you?”

“Soonyoung,” you say after a second.

“Yes?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

•

[🍥] Give me a reason to give you a chance

this is real right?

[🍥] It’s not a dream if that’s what you’re asking

all of a sudden??

[🍥] Minghao and Jihoon said I should

[🍥] And I think I should too

[🍥] But it’s hard

[🍥] What you said yesterday... I don’t know if I can believe it just yet

will you meet me?

I want to see you

[🍥] Can you give me some time?

yes

all the time you need

but will you?

will you meet me?

[🍥] I don’t want to

[🍥] But then again, I do

[🍥] Just give me some time

•

A strange thing, time. It passes by much too quickly when you want it to last, and it drags on when all you want is to be there. There; right then; right now.

Soonyoung stays up late turning on and off his phone, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting.

It’s only been two days.

Jihoon thinks he’s crazy, though he hasn’t said it out loud — Soonyoung can tell.

He also thinks he might be a little crazy, but that’s okay. If it means he’ll get the chance to make it up to you... maybe he’s fine with being crazy.

At some point, Jihoon barges into his room and takes away Soonyoung’s phone, snatching it straight out of his hands like the little thief he is. He keeps it out of reach despite being shorter, preaching bullshit like, “You need to calm down and act like a normal person!”

Fine, whatever.

Soonyoung goes out for some air. And instant ramen.

There’s a twenty-four hour convenience store right on the edge of campus, manned by a single tired university student that everyone is aware of, yet no one really seems to know his name. It’s one of those spots where time doesn’t exist; maybe names don’t, either.

Compared to the blackness of night, the blanch white convenience store sticks out like a sore thumb, especially with all the bright posters and fluorescent tube-lights. Soonyoung feels just as out of place with no people around just outside the store, but really, it’s to be expected at a time like two in the morning.

He’s right at the door when it chimes and slides open. And so are you.

Both of you freeze where you are, you in the doorway and he just in front. His jaw slacks slightly as he takes you in.

You’re in casual clothes again, a thick sweater and presumably pyjama pants. This version of you comes with good memories — for some reason he likes it more than he cares to admit. Maybe he liked that you could share a more vulnerable side to him, and he to you in return. Although, you’ve shown this side to even the unnamed convenience store guy.

It’s your voice that breaks him from his reverie.

“Soonyoung,” you say, and it’s softer than before. Maybe your voice is lighter from the fact that it’s two in the morning, maybe just because you’re tired, but a small part of Soonyoung wishes that it’s something else — that you sound softer because you’ve missed him too.

He hopes it isn’t just hope.

He says your name, the sound beautiful and battered on his tongue. A small smile passes your lips, so fast that he almost misses it, but he doesn’t. That’s one thing he knows about you: how much you care. Even if someone hurts you, you always take the time to hear them out. You give them chances. Soonyoung should thank his lucky stars that you’ve done the same for him.

“Hi.”

You smile again, and it reaches your eyes, however sad.

“Is it time?” he asks.

“It can be.” The plastic bag in your hand crinkles as you sway it back and forth. “Do you want it to be?”

“Yeah.” His voice comes out like a breath. “Please.��

“Then that’s what we’ll make it.”

You gesture to the ground, where the curb meets the asphalt, but Soonyoung is still a little shocked that he’s even met you here in the first place, so he watches, dazed, as you sit down on the curb before joining in. He stays silent as you pull out an ice cream cup and hand it to him. He stays silent as you procure a second one and peel open the plastic lid, digging into it with the wooden stick spoon-wannabe that comes with the package. He stays silent as you look at him, the wooden stick hanging from your mouth.

“So,” you say, scraping the side of the paper cup. Meeting his eyes, you sport a sly smile. “I hear you’re in love with me.”

The ice cream stays unopened in his hands. He finds it so easy to smile back.

“Yeah. I think I am.”

“You think you are?”

“I’ve never loved someone like this before,” he tries to explain, though the words are slow to his tongue. “I can only think.”

“I guess so.”

“But—” he looks at his fingers, fiddling with the plastic lid of the cup, and a small laugh escapes “—I’m thinking really, really hard.”

You laugh too; his heart blooms.

“Is that so?” you tease, smiling around the wooden spoon. “It’s gonna take more than that.”

“I think I can do it.”

“You think?”

“I think really hard.”

Soonyoung might be in love with every part of you, even if he never realized. Your laugh, your smile, your tells, your habits. He wishes he knew sooner, that this laugh could’ve been his forever long before now.

You scrape the last drops of ice cream out of the paper cup and leave the stick in your mouth, a bit chewed up. Your shoes tap against the asphalt, the rhythm something that draws both his and your eyes.

“You know...” you say, turning your head to meet his gaze once more. “You know you hurt me, right? You know this won’t be easy?”

“None of what we had was easy.”

A scoff runs past your lips. You bump your shoulder against his. “Speak for yourself. I fell hard and fast for you, asshole.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I know.” You take the still unopened ice cream from his hands and stuff it right back in the bag it came from. “Say it again, though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm... maybe it’ll take a few more times.”

“I’m—”

“But not tonight,” you say. “Tonight...”

Your hand beside him closes the distance, grazing over his and pulling it over to your lap.

“...just hold me?”

And he does.

Bonus (gn) epilogue: Fluff and Context Bonus (gn) blurbs: [a fate of my choosing][pick a struggle]

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spamgyu · 7 days

Text

i miss you, i'm sorry // Soonyoung Oneshot

DESCRIPTION: Soonyoung let his pride get in the way and now he's forced to come to terms of his mistakes... two years too late. PARING: Soonyoung x Reader GENRE: Angst WARNINGS: Mentions of alcohol, not a warning but mention of NCT Taeyong

Highly recommend listening to the following while you read: i know it won't work - gracie abrams i miss you, i'm sorry - gracie abrams

It took him some time to swallow his pride; to own up to his mistakes.

Betraying you.

You two may have not been romantically together for very long; barely hitting the one year mark before the world you knew had been torn apart by the one man you have least expected to do so.

Before becoming officially his, you were a friend – someone who had been around him for nearly every waking moment of his idol life.

Their group's back-up dancer.

And maybe that's why it hurt even more; because maybe you have expected heartache from dating an idol... but you didn't expect a friend to hurt you the way Soonyoung did.

He wished he could forget that day – that whole week, in fact. But no matter where he turned, whatever he did, he was haunted by his actions.

Each time he listened to a love song, each time he saw a happy couple, every time he heard of any of his freinds brag about the connection they shared with their other half – he thought back to you.

And it wasn't long before he thought of the day he ruined it all.

You two had been caught, and not by the reporters that both of you have successfully dodged for months – but by his fans. It seemed fool proof at first, hiding in plain sight.

Who would have suspected a blurred face individual in the background of all their behind the scenes videos?

The answer was everyone.

There had been speculations at first, ones that were quite easy to dismiss – but that day in April, it had come crashing down.

Proof of your long term relationship had been uploaded on all platforms; clips of his lingering stares on stage, subtle glances caught on their behind the scene videos, similar instagram photos and profile pictures, more importantly images of you simply acting as a regular couple leaking from his iCloud.

There was no denying it this time.

Or so you thought.

Soonyoung had always told you that when this happened, he would own up to it. He was now at a place in his career where he was able to protect you from any harsh words of the public – a place where he was more than happy to brag about his relationship status.

But he fell short.

He lied.

He didn't know what came over him at that time, choosing the easy way out – or at least, what he thought was easy at the time.

Your heart sank to the deepest pit of your stomach when you had read the message he had posted on their fan service platform that day, shattering once it reached the bottom.

"Please don't believe any rumors that are being spread. If I was in a relationship, you would hear about it from me first. She is just our back-up dancer. I love you guys~ 🩷🩵"

Just our back-up dancer.

He remembered the tears streaming down your face that day, the only words uttering from your lips was "why?".

Why did he choose to dismiss you as just a staff?

Why didn't he fight for you?

Why didn't he fight for the relationship?

Why did he lie to you?

Why?

Soonyoung didn't have any explanation as to why, he couldn't answer you – simply remaining still as he watched you fall apart in front of him.

He didn't know why he didn't shed a tear that day, allowing for you to walk away without bothering to go after you when you had finally found your composure – silently saying your final goodbye.

His pride had gotten the best of him.

And he continued to allow it to do so for the following months; brushing off his member's attempt to address the situation. He didn't dare blink an eye when you didn't show up to the practices, waving off their choreographer when he had notified him that you were no longer a part of the team.

"I don't care." He scoffed, walking away.

He should have.

Staring at the article pulled up on his phone, sent so kindly by Seungcheol, Soonyoung felt that same sinking feeling he had put you through two years ago – his knees buckling under him.

He could have sworn he was over it, over you.

He came to terms of his mistakes, but he didn't think he would have to face it once again.

SEUNGCHEOL: I know you said it doesn't matter but I think it's best you heard from one of us first [NCT Taeyong confirms relationship with non-idol through social media post.]

The image didn't show your face; the boy, who Soonyoung had shared mutual friends with, had taken a picture in the mirror with a mystery girl hidden behind him. The only indicator of this being you was the arms wrapped around his waist – the arms that was loitered with sticker like tattoos.

The ones Soonyoung used to playfully color in with markers and lazily trace as the two of you laid in his bed.

He remembered all the times you happily showed off a new addition to the collection, each and every single one having a memory attached to it.

Especially the blue ink heart that was etched on to your left thumb – the one that he caressed each time your fingers would lock.

He knew this tattoo had no link to him, but somehow he felt as through he had been kicked down at the sight of his thumb sitting a few centimeters from it.

The heart that was once his.

Shakily taking a seat on the edge of his bed, Soonyoung allowed for his phone to slip from his hands – hitting the floor with a loud smack.

He didn't care if the screen cracked, or if there was any damages to the edges of his unprotected device. All he was focused on was the sudden pain that radiated throughout his body.

You had moved on, you were happy – while he was barely beginning to grieve the end of you.

He had run away from his emotions for the past two years, thinking that it would never come – but once again, he was oh so wrong.

Soonyoung felt as though his lung had been punctured, unable to get enough air into his system as his chest began to heave – the tears had now broken the flood gates.

Gripping the edge comforter, Soonyoung tried bite back the sobs that were now threatening to escape his lips – where was this pain when you had asked, no begged, for him to fight for the love you two shared.

"Soonyoung, please." Your voice shook, but he remained unfazed. "I need to know why."

Even now, he couldn't answer that question.

Soonyoung didn't know why he chose to respond to the scandal the way he did. He didn't know why he let you walk away. He didn't know why he chose to ignore your attempts to reach out for closure.

All he knew was that he was in pain, a great amount of it.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

He was never good at handling any alcoholic drink, but that didn't stop Soonyoung from ending the past three days with at least one bottle of soju before bed.

It was easier to sleep that way.

In the stillness of the night, he sat alone at the dining table – throwing back another shot of the clear liquid, while his thoughts consumed his brain.

Soonyoung had been out of his game since reading that article, their group's comeback couldn't over power all the images of you that flashed through his mind – no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, his brain found it's way to wander back to you.

As his body began to feel the effects of the fourth shot, Soonyoung began to think of the unthinkable.

It wasn't like you would pick up anyways? You probably had his number blocked. Maybe even changed it.

Anyone would have.

But he needed to hear it – he needed to hear your recorded voice, the one that let a caller know that you have missed their call.

It was the closest thing he could have to hearing your voice.

"Hello?"

"Y/n." He choked out, your voice instantly sobering him up – almost as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him.

"Hoshi?"

This time, it felt as though someone had driven yet another knife into his chest – this time right into his heart.

Hoshi.

It wasn't Soonyoung or Soonie.

It was Hoshi.

"I-I–" He tried to fight the sharp ache that pulsed under his ribcage as he searched his brain for the right words to say. "I'm sorry."

Silence.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry." Soonyoung repeated, his voice showing clear evidence of the hurt he had been feeling in the past few days.

"No."

"Wha–"

"No," He couldn't see you but he could practically picture you shaking your head at him, your expression mirroring the firm tone he heard on the other line. "You don't get to call me to apologize after two years of radio silence. You don't get to have the closure that I begged for. No."

There was that knife again; only this time, he didn't care for the discomfort because he knew you were right.

Soonyoung was instantly transported back to the months that followed that god-foresaken day – to the times he watched your notifications come in, only for him to delete it without a reply.

[8:23 pm - April 15] I'm sorry for walking out. Please, I want to talk about it [9:10 pm - April 15] I just want to know why.

[12:03 am - April 18] Y/N: I miss you. I miss us.

[11:28 pm - April 29] You told me you would always be by my side, that you wouldn't let them get to us. Why was it so easy for you to let us go? Did you not mean anything you told me?

[2:09 am - May 7] You were the one that pursued me, you made me fall for you. I was fine being friends. I shouldn't have let you in. I should have kept my distance. One day, I'll learn to realize you were a mistake but for now I want you to know that I love you. It hurts so much but I love you.

You were absolutely right, he didn't deserve to be forgiven.

He didn't deserve to be heard out, not when he covered his ears all while you called out for him.

"Those I love you's, those sweet words, they were all empty. You didn't feel the same way. You were my whole world and I was nothing but a grain of sand to you." He had never heard your voice so cold; the one that used to sound like a soft melodic song in his ears. "You made me fall for you only for you to not be there to catch me. I don't want to hear a single thing you have to say."

"I–"

"Baby!" His voice was heard in the background.

"I'm hanging up. Don't ever call this number again."

The sound of the line ending echoed in his ears as the sob, that was held in his throat, came out as a small hiccup.

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose @wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper @aksweet7 @nikkell @raginghellfire @kriizztin @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @porridgesblog @bbysnw @squashcolouredskies

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#...... hoshi girls.... dont kill me #this one ..... is something #hoshi x reader #hoshi x yn #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fic #hoshi angst #soonyoung angst #svt angst #svt fic #hoshi fic

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onlymingyus · 17 days

Text

Guilty (teaser)

pairing; kwon soonyoung x f reader / lee jihoon x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, toxic, fluff

summary; you and soonyoung learn that the storm can only be weathered for so long before you need a lift raft to hold on to. but what happens when neither of you reach for each other in that storm?

w/c; 23.6k ( 1.3k and some change -- this teaser)

this fic will be released sunday 4/14 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

3 missed calls from Soonyoung❣️

Soonyoung ❣️: I got in late.

Soonyoung ❣️: I know you are going to be mad at me.

Soonyoung ❣️: Call me when you wake up

Soonyoung ❣️: Love you

Y/N 😘: Hope you are having a good day babe

Y/N 😘: Missing you

Y/N 😘: Hope class has gone well. You are amazing ❣️

Y/N 😘: I’m going to bed

Y/N 😘: Hope I get to talk to you tomorrow. I love you

“Hello?”

“Hey, sorry, I was in the shower.”

“Yeah, well, I asked for you to call me when you woke up, but I guess you didn’t check your phone.”

“I did check it.”

“Oh? So you chose to ignore my messages and calls?”

“Like you chose to ignore mine, Soonyoung? Seriously…”

“I have to get ready for work. I love you too. I hope you get some sleep.”

“I–yeah, sure. Have a good day, babe.”

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

#seventeen smut #woozi smut #hoshi smut #svthub #jihoon smut #soonyoung smut #seventeen angst #woozi angst #hoshi angst #jihoon angst #soonyoung angst #svt smut #svt agnst #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #hoshi x reader #jihoon x reader #soonyoung x reader

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wontune · 4 months

Note

oi!!! você pode fazer wallpaper do hoshi de Seventeen por favor?? obrigada!!

⚝ Hoshi ( seventeen ) lockscreen .

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wooahaes · 8 months

Text

golden

pairing: god!hoshi x fem!mortal!reader

genre: romance, fluff, angst. gods au.

word count: 13.2k~

warnings: character death. resurrection. mentions of fire, food, rain, and alcohol all within the fic. mentions of sex, unwritten (reader and soonyoung are pretty much stated to have sex, but there is 0 depictions of it past kissing and slightly talking about it). mentions of other death in the background of the fic.

daisy's notes: this was originally going to be a mark fic ngl and i still have the scraps of that first attempt.

[note: no taglist on this fic due to me being unsure of who is okay and not okay w sexual content of any kind!! imo its super tame + not explicit at all, but i don't wanna tag someone that doesn't want that, y'kno?]

Soonyoung rarely ventured down to the mortal realm as often as the others did.

This wasn’t due to a disdain for humans; truthfully, Soonyoung was fond of them in plenty of ways. He found them interesting to watch from a distance, never getting too attached to any of them with their tiny lifespan. Truthfully, he always made the excuse that he was busy. Who would raise and set the sun every day if not for him? It was an excuse, to be fair: the sun was set on its path without him needing to be there to do the work himself. He merely kept to himself more often than the others thought. He wasn’t like Seungcheol, who ventured down in times of war and passed through soldiers who couldn’t see him, revitalizing them as he watched destruction rain down; or Jeonghan, who would always be there to retrieve Seungcheol when the fighting finally came to an end, a reminder that being the God of War did not ruin Seungcheol as a person. He wasn’t like Jun, who silently accepted offerings made to him every year and blessed the harvests (and weddings—the fun part of presiding over multiple domains, as they all did), or Chan, who loved to feel the change of the seasons himself. Soonyoung simply knew the truth: he couldn’t, and shouldn’t, get attached. He had seen what happened to people who got attached.

Yet he always made an exception when his festival came around. He liked to come down and take part in celebrations, finding that they revitalize him in a way like no other. They were always extravagant affairs, larger than life itself with music and dancing that he could spend all night doing. He liked to sample human food, too–especially if he was able to drag Seokmin along, too. The two could ditch their duties for a few hours, the systems in place allowing that slight leave, and sample the sweet wines blessed by Minghao himself. Maybe it blew up Soonyoung’s ego a bit to see how beloved he was by so many, but he enjoyed the fun of it all more than anything else. None of them knew his name, to be fair: they knew the God of the Sun, the God of Dance, or Hoshi if anything. Never Soonyoung.

He’d sampled a sun-shaped chocolate as he weaved through the crowds, always leaving people with a bashful thanks before he moved on. Soonyoung would have his today, and return home with Seokmin later. That was the way things were meant to be. Maybe he’d sneak a bottle of wine back with him, even if it’d earn an eye-roll from Minghao who would tell him all he needed to do was ask for a bottle if he wanted it so badly. It wasn’t the wine, though: it was the experience. A new bottle he can keep along his collection to remember this by.

Except Soonyoung saw you. He had lost track of Seokmin in the crowd, and ventured toward the town square, where he saw you among the crowd. You’d been dancing with your friends, arms thrown out and flowing garments twisting around you as you laughed with carefree abandon. He’d later learn that you had been drinking that day, enjoying the freedom from work and life and everything heavy. Soonyoung was supposed to meet Seokmin. He was supposed to go find him, and then go home. Yet the moment he went to pass you, you had lost your footing, stumbling into him. Your hands were pressed against his chest as he supported you, staring down at your half-hunched over position, peering up at him through your eyelashes.

“... Hi?” You had breathed out, no sense of embarrassment yet.

Soonyoung had heard stories of gods who fell in love with mortals. It happened to Jihoon, and he remembered how that story ended. He hadn’t understood it, though. How could someone like them fall so easily for someone who’s life was so miniscule? That was an introduction to pain, letting in the opportunity for tragedy to strike. And yet there you were, staring up at him in a way that made his heart stir in his chest like no other. He’d stared at you with parted lips, wide-eyed and feeling the heat rushing to his face as he realized how awkward the two of you must be. There’s an apology on his lips, right where he wished yours would be, only for it to die in his throat as you laughed and straightened up.

“Do you want to dance?” Your hands had found his.

And Soonyoung said yes, forgetting all about the friend he’d been searching for. You’d guided him back with you, and time melted into something entirely new as Soonyoung danced with you. It wasn’t until Seokmin found him later, all but having to drag Soonyoung from the gentle sway your dance had devolved into. He’d forgotten about life and his responsibilities and everything that was supposed to be important: you had called him handsome.

“Pretty, too,” you had said to him a second later, before giggling. Soonyoung felt like that must be the alcohol in your system making you so giggly. “Like sunlight.”

Oh, if only you knew.

That was why Soonyoung returned the next day, despite everything being over. He found you again, and introduced himself to you with a lie that he was new in town. You’d laughed again, and he felt as though he might fall in love with the sound.

“I know,” you said, picking up a trampled flower from the ground, setting it into your basket. “It’s a small town. I assumed you were someone stopping in for the festival.”

Soonyoung crouched down next to you, wordlessly helping you with your work. “It was really pretty.”

“It always is,” you picked up another flower, and then your eyes met his. “My friends haven’t stopped teasing me, though.”

“Why?”

“You’re cute,” you smiled, and he felt his heart fluttering in his chest all over again. “And of course it’d be someone not from around here that caught my attention.”

Soonyoung furrowed his brow. “You don’t like anyone here?”

“Not really,” you shrugged, fingers brushing against his as you reached for the same flower. “I guess… I never saw someone that felt worth knowing. You feel different.”

Soonyoung had heard about this from Hansol once before. He’d asked once before what drew people together like that, and Hansol had merely shrugged and said some people just… stood out among the crowd sometimes. That had been why Soonyoung only ever went down during festivals. Between the food and the music and the wine, there was enough to distract from Soonyoung, even if it earned him the occasional look as someone felt… something about him drawing their attention.

“So, stranger,” you stood up. “You got a name? Where are you from? Are you just passing through, or…?”

Soonyoung said his name, gauging your reaction for a second before he continued on, “I’m from the city,” he lied casually enough. “And… I might be.”

“You might be?” You teased. “You looking for a reason to stay?”

“I might be,” he smiled.

It earned another warm laugh from you, so short and fleeting. “Well, Soonyoung, if you’re not busy… Maybe I could show you around. Give you a reason.”

As much as he knew he shouldn’t… Soonyoung thought that he’d already found it. So he let you take him by the hand, so warm underneath his touch, and guide him around the town. It felt like every corner the two of you turned, you had a story. You had lived here all your life, and it showed in your stories. Was love at first sight a thing? Hansol said it wasn’t, that it was merely attraction that either blossomed into love or it didn’t. Yet Soonyoung felt as though his soul knew yours. How suddenly a single person could make him wish he were a mortal that could live alongside you and one day die next to you.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Jihoon said to him one day. He’d entered his godly domain without even asking (although Jihoon never had to ask), finding him taking a nap. He stared down at him. “I mean it. You can’t fall in love with a mortal.”

“I’m not in love with a mortal,” he said. “She’s…”

“Soonyoung.” Jihoon’s voice was like ice as he stared at him. “I lived this. I won’t stand here and watch it happen to you, too.”

“How did you even find out?”

Jihoon crossed his arms. “Hansol. Who else would know?”

He had a point. If anyone had their finger to the pulse of love… It’d be the God of Love himself. Hansol had wrinkled his nose when Soonyoung passed by him earlier, although Soonyoung had merely assumed that it was the scent of mortals and his sweat that disgusted him. Soonyoung sat up, grass crunching underneath him as he looked at Jihoon, backlit by the moon above. He stared down at him, hands curling into fists.

“You don’t want to hurt like I did,” he said in a lower voice. “One day they’re here, and the next…” He reached a hand around the crystal that hung around his neck. “You’ll never see them again.”

Soonyoung didn’t know what to say. Either he defied his friend, his brother, or he let go of you before he’d even grown to know you.

So he went to Joshua instead.

Joshua had been lounging in his own little home, spread out on the pearly white chaise as he looked down upon the pool of water in the middle of his room. Sometimes, Soonyoung wondered what he was watching so intensely. Life? Or his own reflection? All Soonyoung ever saw was his own face when he peered in, but maybe he wasn’t looking at it right. Joshua looked up, and smiled that pretty smile that Soonyoung had seen carved into marble plenty of times. It was enough to make any man proud, and any god insufferable at times.

“Soonyoung.” Joshua’s voice was like honey. No wonder mortals dedicated sonnets to it. “I see you’ve finally come around.”

“How long do mortals live?”

He laughed. “Straight to the point. I see. And so soon, too… Then again, you aren’t like Jihoon. It took Jihoon forever to realize his own feelings…” He let out a sigh. “It’s hard to say.”

Soonyoung stared at him. He understood, slightly: Joshua always said that human life changed with the advancing of medicine. No wonder he resided over both domains, watching over them with a careful eye. “Then how long does she have?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Soonyoung watched as Joshua stood up, making his way over to a cabinet on the far side of his room, flowing garments dragging along the floor. He followed close behind, lagging only far enough behind that he didn’t step on the fabric. “Why not?!”

“Because you’re a god, Soonyoung,” Joshua didn’t turn to face him. He opened the cabinet, shimmering liquid sitting inside. He hummed to himself, looking through them. “You can’t change a mortal’s lifespan. It goes against our rules.”

“And who made those?” Soonyoung asked. “You watched Jihoon’s love die. You couldn’t make an exception?”

“It was their time.” Joshua pulled a blue vial that reminded Soonyoung of a clear sky, and he held it up to the light. “I couldn’t do anything for them. They were in Seokmin’s hands.”

Then maybe he should be talking to Seokmin. Joshua said nothing as he held out the vial, looking through the cabinet further.

“Hold onto this for me, please.”

Soonyoung moved forward, accepting it. He’d never understood things like this—but, thankfully, he didn’t have to. It wasn’t like mortal medicine, which made his head spin. Magic through potion making… That was far outside of his realm. Magic just happened when Soonyoung danced. Light sparked up, the sun was a little warmer on days it was supposed to be cold, the sun stayed out a little longer to help a person find their way home… It manifested through the physical movements he made. It was the same with Minghao, with Junhui, with Chan. He’d seen the dances that Chan choreographed to bring about the seasons, turning it into a performance art. The way Minghao blessed art and wine and those who created both with his own special flourish. And the way Junhui’s movements brought about the harvest as he moved. Joshua, however, always had this song underneath his breath that he seemed to mumble as he pulled vial after vial. Rich purple and sunshine yellow and deep, deep blue that was almost black until the light hit it just right.

Joshua walked away, plucking the blue sky vial from Soonyoung’s hands with a simple “thank you,” as he passed by him. Soonyoung could only continue to follow him.

“So…”

“So.” Joshua had walked away to a set of glasses, set up not far from the cabinet. When Soonyoung asked why it wasn’t closer before, Joshua had merely said something about avoiding cross-contamination. “I can’t help you with her. She’s a mortal.” One drop of sky blue. Two of the sunshine yellow.

“You can’t make an exception?”

One of purple… and then another. “Nope.”

“I’m not going to stop.”

One of deep, dark blue. “I didn’t think you would.”

“I mean it.” Soonyoung crossed his arms. “I want to know her. You’d understand if you saw her.”

“I’m sure I would.” Joshua simply pulled out one of the thin, long rods he used to mix these vials. Despite the colors that went into it, it turned into a shimmering, golden liquid after he added a pinch of some dust that Soonyoung knew nothing about. “I’m sure we all would.”

Was he not budging? Soonyoung didn’t plan this far. He thought if he made it completely clear that he was going to pursue you, whether it got him hurt or not, that Joshua would give something up. Joshua was one of the ones who was most hurt by seeing Jihoon mourn… Maybe it was wrong to try and use that against him, but Soonyoung knew that if he didn’t try to pursue you, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Didn’t Joshua understand that? Hadn’t he followed people’s lives out of sheer curiosity of where they ended up? He treated it as gossip with Jeonghan sometimes, Soonyoung heard it.

“Soonyoung?” Joshua asked, pushing a cork into the vial. He tied a cord around it, securing it fully. “Don’t drink this.”

Soonyoung said nothing as Joshua tied the vial around his neck, looking down at where it fell between his collarbones. “I won’t?”

“Good.” Joshua gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t you have a mortal to be wooing?”

Soonyoung met Joshua’s gaze, and saw the smile he’d given him. “You aren’t going to stop me?”

“Nope.” He walked away. “You’re interrupting me anyway. Mortal lives are messy—These two siblings are fighting over their father’s fortune even though it’ll go to the youngest in secret. They just haven’t realized it yet.”

Soonyoung didn’t see the appeal.

Soonyoung saw you again mere days later.

You’d been in the market when he finally found you, bargaining for fresh fruit with the woman behind the stall. She laughed at you after a moment, and, judging by the smile on your face, you’d managed to convince her to throw in a little extra. Yet when you turned and saw him, that smile fell for barely a second before coming back, brighter than before. You made your way over to him, careful of your bag as you threw your arms around him. He felt the warmth of your body as it pressed against his, and suddenly the sun didn’t feel so warm anymore.

“Soonyoung!” You drew back, still beaming at him. “I thought you’d left.”

His hands fell to rest on your hips. “I said I’d be back. I just… had to handle some things.”

Your gaze had fallen to the vial around his neck. “What’s this?”

“From a friend,” he said, a hand clasping around it protectively. It felt cold underneath his fingers.

“Someone I need to worry about?”

He chuckled. “Nope.” He couldn’t compare to you anyhow. “Are you busy?”

“Not anymore.” You shifted your bag. “I just need to take this home and then I’m all yours. Do you want to walk with me?”

He was glad to go anywhere with you. You slipped your hand into his, palm pressed against his own, and started to guide him down the street. Casual as could be, you started to fill him in on everything that you’d heard over the past few days. The feud between two nobles in the richer part of the town—two brothers who’d always been stuck up. Their father was on their deathbed now, and his third born, his daughter, had been devoted to caring for him. Whether it be to nurse him back to health, or to make sure his passing was as peaceful as it could go, no one could be sure. You admitted your hopes that the fortune would go to her: she was always kind to you and everyone else she met, from what you could tell. Aside from that… One of your neighbors was sure her baby would be coming any day now. Something about it feeling right. You’d be bringing soup to her later tonight to help give her a little extra strength for the coming days. There’d been men passing through town—not like Soonyoung, but gruffer. Rough around the edges. They had yet to do anything, but plenty of people were on edge because of it.

“It feels like I’ve missed a lot.”

“Well… You wouldn’t if you stayed.” You squeezed his hand a little. “I know it’s a big decision… But I’d be happy to see you around more often.”

Soonyoung found himself smiling a little. Such little time together, and he thought you might be feeling something for him, too. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. My friends want to meet you sometime. Meet the cutie I have my eye on.” You rolled your eyes a little. “Seriously… They act like I’m a recluse.”

Soonyoung ran his thumb along the back of your hand. “If you want me to meet them…”

“Maybe later,” you said. “Gotta be sure I’m right about you first.”

He blinked. “Right…? About what?”

“That you’re… right.” You’d grown flustered. “That this wasn’t just me being drunk and seeing a cute stranger and—and being curious, I guess.”

You’d let go of his hand for a moment, and he swore he ached to feel it again. You pushed open the gate to your home, small enough that Soonyoung could probably leap over it if he tried. He waited for a moment, watching as you stopped and turned to face him. With a nod of your head, he followed after you quickly. You unlocked your door, pushing it open and letting him in before you secured it back in place.

Although your home was small, it was cozy. He watched as you drew back the curtains at your windows, where he could see a green yard behind it, plants growing. Some flowers—although those looked more to be wildflowers that you’d begun to tend to. Vegetables, mainly. Maybe that was why you were mainly buying fruit in the city. He watched as you draped your shawl over a chair, taking your bag to sort things out and put them into the hanging baskets above your kitchen space. Apples, pears, a bowl of berries… You had a place for most things. Soonyoung busied himself with looking around further. You had a little sitting area near your front door with an old, slightly frumpy couch that still looked comfortable to curl up in. A chair that sat closer to the currently extinguished fireplace, where he realized you could comfortably cook if you chose to do so. There was dwindling firewood in a pile nearby, already chopped. Was that your doing? Or someone else in the town? Soonyoung wanted to know. You had said that he was the only person who caught your eye, but…

He pushed the thought aside. He didn’t think you’d lead him on if there were other people—plus you had said your friends were teasing you. He’d trust you for now. Soonyoung ran a hand over the back of your couch, a thick quilt draped over it.

“That was my mother’s,” you said. “She made it with my grandmother when she was expecting me. She’d always drape it over herself whenever she was caring for me.” You set your bag aside. “She gave it to me when I moved out after she’d added more to it.”

He traced his fingers over a square that had a flower sewn into it. “That’s sweet.”

“I think she wants me to pass it down to my child one day,” you said. “Add my own squares. She taught me once, actually. I think I will.”

His face grew hotter, and he stepped away, distracting himself with a little carved animal that was sitting on your counter. “Did you make this?”

You’d giggled, and made your way over. “Mhm. It’s not very good, but… My grandmother had books of animals. It’s a tiger.” You held it up. “I’ve never actually seen one, but they say the God of the Sun’s accompanied by a tiger wherever he goes.” For a moment, you looked between him and the little wooden tiger. You reached for his hand a moment later, pressing it into his palm and curling his fingers around. “Why don’t you keep it?”

“Huh?” He looked down at it. “But it’s yours.”

“And now it’s yours.” You smiled at him. “You can look at it and think of me.”

He would. He’d keep it with him forever now. Soonyoung turned his attention to the window again. “You grow things?”

“Most people do.” You made your way to the back door, unlatching it and pulling it open. Soonyoung followed you out and watched as you admired your tomatoes. “I’m not great at it, but I’ve managed to keep a few things alive so far.”

The cucumbers you were growing seemed to be doing fine, as were the green beans that stretched up their poles. He saw the way the cucumber plants were crawling up your fence a bit, giving them a structure to grow against and protection from the elements. You had a separate section out for carrots that were struggling a bit more, but faring way better than the tomatoes you’d been trying to grow. Your lettuce, however, was definitely thriving way more than the rest of your garden.

“It’s not a lot,” you said, looking at the peas you’d been growing. “But it helps. I sell lettuce down at the market and it usually fetches pretty well…”

“You said you were making soup?”

Suddenly, you snapped back to face him. “Oh my god, the soup!” You rushed back inside, digging through a low cabinet for a heavy-looking pot. “I’m yours,” you said as you turned back to him, “as long as we talk here.”

He chuckled. “I’m okay with that.”

You rested a hand on his chest. “Tomorrow,” you said, “we can go out. I’m sorry I forgot about it earlier.”

Something about you was so endearing. You’d pulled out a cutting board and a sharpened knife before turning to Soonyoung. When you asked if he knew how to cook, he said he wasn’t very good at it. With a roll of your eyes, you said you’d teach him later. All he needed to do was slice ingredients while you fetched water for this soup. If he wanted to, he could start the fire for you once you’d set everything up, and you’d take over with the harder parts of it all. The good thing about this soup, you told him, was that it could be easy to throw together. So the two of you got to work: Soonyoung with carefully slicing carrots for you, and you with setting up… well, everything else. He listened to the way you hummed to yourself as you worked, and he wished he could know the songs in your heart. If he asked Jihoon, he’d turn him away.

How was he supposed to face Jihoon from now on…? Hansol wouldn’t hide Soonyoung’s feelings for you as they began to blossom more and more with each passing second.

“Oh… Soonyoung.” You’d come back to him while he was trying to slice potatoes, moving slow as he worked. “Here,” you reached out, hands over his own to guide them. “It’s easier if you do it like this…”

Mingyu would adore you, at least. Despite not having a need to eat, Mingyu enjoyed cooking for the fun of it. Seokmin joined him sometimes, too. At least Soonyoung got to eat the delicious things they made. A second later, Soonyoung realized that you were bullshitting him: he was maybe slow in order to watch his fingers, but you were doing the exact same thing he was doing.

“You just want to—”

“Be close to you?” You smiled. “I do.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to make up a reason,” he said, gently nudging your hands away. “You can be close to me if you want.”

You let out a happy hum as you looked at him, leaning in just close enough to kiss him if he were lucky. “Good to know.” And then you pulled away just as he leaned in to kiss you, giggling as you went.

What has he gotten himself into?

Junhui’s domain was just as vibrant and full of life as one would expect from the God of the Harvest. The number of plants growing would make Soonyoung’s head spin if he tried to count them all, and, since he wasn’t much of a cook anyway, he merely left it at ones he could easily recognize. Most days, Junhui could be found in the center of it all, resting underneath a pavilion decorated with sheer white curtains trimmed with matching lace. The red of his flowing garb stood out against it all, and Soonyoung often saw the way the fabric flowed as Junhui danced for himself and only himself. His eyes were shut as he let his body move as he pleased, content to let inspiration take hold as it desired. There was a bottle of wine set atop a nearby table—a sign that Minghao had been here recently, since Jun always kept his bottles elsewhere for safe keeping. He had to wonder what the two had talked about.

“Is this about her?”

Jun had slowed to a stop, opening his eyes as he looked to where Soonyoung lingered among the trees. He had gotten it in one, and the knowing smile on his face said it. He gestured for Soonyoung to come forward and join him as he settled into a cushioned chair off to one side, right next to that bottle of wine.

Soonyoung settled into the other, and watched as his friend poured him a glass. “I have a favor to ask.”

“It’s her garden, isn’t it?” Jun hummed to himself, eyes twinkling a little. “Are you sure you want to get so close to a mortal?”

Soonyoung nodded. “Yes.”

“You were there for Jihoon,” he said, voice softer this time. “You had to be the one to calm him down before the tides were thrown out of balance.”

But I’ll be fine, Soonyoung wanted to say. He wouldn’t scorch the earth. He’d control himself. “Will you help her?”

Jun hummed to himself for a moment. “Perhaps.”

“That isn’t a yes—”

“What’s in your pocket?”

Soonyoung pulled out the little tiger figurine. Immediately, Jun began to coo over it, reaching out to get a closer look. He drew his hand back, unsure of whether he wanted to trust anyone with it… But he relented after a moment, letting Jun take it and hold it up to the light. He traced over the tiger stripes, smiling to himself all the while, so truly endeared by this little wooden tiger that you had made. It wasn’t perfect, and it looked much more like an average cat, but you had definitely tried when carving it.

“How cute,” he giggled. “No wonder you like her so much. Can she make a cat?”

Soonyoung furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I’ll do it if she makes me a cat later. Say it’s for a friend.”

“I’m not—”

“Please?” Jun had smiled at him, pressing the tiger back into his hand. “I’ll bless her garden extra strong if you can bring me one that’s a cat.”

Soonyoung sighed. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll ask her to make you a cat. I’ll say it’s a present. Will you bless her garden tonight, please? I’m going to see her first thing because I want to see her face when she notices it improving.”

Jun had given his promise. Soonyoung downed his wine before hugging him tight, and left Jun’s domain quickly. He’d passed by Seungkwan, who’d been deep in conversation with Hansol and Seungcheol when he saw him. With a wave, he continued on, only to see Hansol wrinkle his nose again when he glanced back one final time. It must be from the love. Which was strange: Hansol had always said love was sweet. Why wrinkle his nose…? Soonyoung let the thought go before he could dwell too much on it. He didn’t need to doubt his feelings for you at all. Mortals lived shorter lives, which meant that Soonyoung needed to treasure his time with you while he had it. Which meant he needed to go rest before he went down to the mortal realm—

“Soonyoung.”

Wonwoo stood at the entry to his domain, having been waiting for him. He adjusted the collar of his shirt, tucked tight against his neck, and watched him from behind those wide spectacles. Wonwoo said nothing as he drew his hood back from over his head, a thick book held in his other arm as he awaited for Soonyoung to come closer. For the God of Time, he always looked as though he’d switch domains with Jihoon or Seokmin at any moment; dark fabrics flowing off of him and shining a little within the light. Yet behind that stoic exterior, Soonyoung knew that he was warm (even if he wasn’t so now). He knew a lot of things beyond the knowledge he presided over. He knew the past, the present, and the future…

Which must be why he was here now. “Yes?”

He nodded toward the entry to his own domain. “Come with me.”

The moment Wonwoo turned his back, Soonyoung hung his head and held back the urge to groan with annoyance. He needed to see you tomorrow, which meant he needed to rest because going down to the mortal realm wasn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world—especially when he had to work extra hard to repress the godly aura that had attracted you to him in the first place. He needed you to like him for him (and, so far, you seemed to). Yet he followed after Wonwoo, passing through the shimmering doorway and into the endless library in which Wonwoo often resided. The quiet ticking of a clock that Soonyoung never saw seemed to echo about, and he stepped onto the clock face (not the source of the ticking: Soonyoung had checked) that was embedded into the floor. The seconds ticked by, one by one, and Soonyoung watched as Wonwoo began to search for another book. He climbed a ladder, a fox made of translucent, pale blue magic leaping up beside him. It shut its eyes and glowed a little brighter, and Soonyoung watched Wonwoo pet its head with a quiet thanks.

“What do you want?” He called out.

“Hold on.” He pulled down another one, thick and just as heavy as the one he’d been carrying. He descended that ladder, and came to the desk in the middle of the room. “You need to stop seeing this human.”

Soonyoung stared at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“Joshua should have told you to stop, but he didn’t. So I will,” Wonwoo began to flip through pages. “She doesn’t have much time. She’ll have less if you continue to interfere.”

You’d live less…? “You don’t know that—”

“It’s written.” Wonwoo slid the book across the table to him. “You can’t rewrite a person’s life. We’ve tried. All we can do is make sure that things go according to plan—”

“No!” He shut the book, shoving it across the desk. “I’m not going to give her up. I’ll find a way.”

“You’re acting like a child,” Wonwoo kept his voice even and calm. “If I need to get Seungcheol involved—”

“You don’t need to get him involved,” another voice sounded from the entryway. Soonyoung turned, and in strolled Mingyu, hands tucked into his pockets. “Seungcheol wouldn’t be able to stop him anyway.”

Wonwoo furrowed his brow. “Mingyu, you remembered what happened last time—”

“And I know that it’ll all be all right.” Mingyu stopped next to Soonyoung. He pulled out a small golden pendant that hung from a long chain, teeming with a mythical energy that was powerful. “Because Soonyoung will give her this, and your stupid book will change to see fit. It’s happened before—”

“That was an accident.”

“Well, accident it again.” Mingyu dropped the pendant into Soonyoung’s hand. “It’ll give her a little extra luck. A longer life, if things go right.”

“You don’t know what you’re messing with, Mingyu,” Wonwoo glowered at him from behind those glasses, eyes cold as steel. The room felt as though it’d fallen a few degrees, too. “This could easily put her in further danger—”

“It won’t,” Mingyu said, cocky as ever. The God of Freedom fit him just as much as his other titles. “Because luck will be on her side now.”

Before he could watch the two argue further, Soonyoung ducked out, throwing his thanks over his shoulder as he returned to his own domain. He felt the sun kiss his face as he wandered in, holding up the pendant so that it’d shimmer in the light. He could already envision it against your skin, shining perfectly in the sun as he stole you away for the day. Maybe he’d find a way to bring you here, to his domain, if he could. Then again… Seungcheol had banned mortals for good reason. He’d seen the destruction that they could bring, and this world wasn’t suited for them to live in anyhow. Still… He wished that you could see it. All he wanted to do was curl up on the grass with you, and sleep under the sunshine of his own domain. If he could find a way, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

Instead, he threw himself down onto his own chaise, curling up to rest for a while. He already missed the soft plush of your couch and the quilt that you shared together as you two enjoyed a bowl of soup together. He’d never admit it to any of the others, but your cooking would outdo Mingyu’s any day (although, knowing him, Mingyu would claim he was only saying it because he liked you). Perhaps if Mingyu wanted, he could come around… After Soonyoung had become yours. If stupid handsome Mingyu had shown up, then there was no telling if you’d stay so in love with Soonyoung or if stupid, charmingly handsome, clumsy Mingyu would somehow manage to steal your heart.

(It was childish to think, but Soonyoung pouted as he drifted off nonetheless.)

By the time he woke up, he knew the sun would soon be rising on the world below. Which meant that he needed to go soon. Jun would hopefully be returning as Soonyoung was leaving, and Soonyoung hoped to get a glance at your garden before you did. It wouldn’t be thriving—not immediately—but Soonyoung knew it’d look a little more verdant. Maybe the tomatoes would have grown a little more, though, so that you could be proud of them.

Jihoon stood in his way, though. “Soonyoung—”

“I remember what happened to them,” he said. “And I know you want me to stop.”

“And you won’t.” Jihoon pressed his lips together. “I know.”

“I think I love her,” he said. “I’ve… I’ve never felt like this before.”

Jihoon shut his eyes for a moment. He remembered how it felt, too: that rush of emotion that was so new to him. No one else had warned him about the more painful ones that would overtake him. No one but Seungcheol, who had lived that grief over and over again when wars started and ended. Seungcheol had been hardened by it: Jihoon was merely a god who wanted to spin songs for his lovers and write lyrical poems for them, too. The crystal around his neck seemed to glow a little brighter, and he nodded after a moment.

“Be careful.”

Soonyoung promised he would. He paused, turning back to Jihoon as he reached out for the necklace. Most days, Jihoon would turn away. Today he stayed still, and watched as Soonyoung brushed his fingers over it, that tiny flame within it still burning as bright as it did so long ago. If Soonyoung shut his eyes, he could feel fingers pressing against his own, a forehead pressing against his. Whether it was Jihoon’s or his lover, he would never be certain. Soonyoung always thought it was his lover, though: their touch was softer than Jihoon’s, who didn’t hesitate to put Soonyoung in his place the same way brothers fought.

He drew his hand back. Would this be him one day? Holding onto a crystal filled with his lover’s life? He hoped not. He’d find a way to keep you with him. Jihoon ran out of time. Soonyoung, with Wonwoo’s warning, would not. He refused to.

Jihoon watched as Soonyoung took off, and he curled his hand around that crystal again. “I know.” He shut his eyes again, and he could feel the way his lover pressed their lips against his skin, gentle as could be. “I know,” he repeated. “I’ll keep watching over him.”

And then he could feel the curve of a smile, too, and he found himself smiling. The sadness in his soul would always be there, but at least his lover’s flame still kept it warm.

True to his plans, Soonyoung came to you again that day. Barely seconds after he’d knocked at your door, you had opened it and pulled him inside, gushing about your garden. He feigned surprise well when you showed him how your tomatoes seemed to have found a new sense of life. He’d thank Jun when he saw him next: your joy was worth it. He reached into his pocket, finding the necklace as it pooled into a tiny pile.

“I… brought you something.”

You turned to him, clearly surprised. “Huh?”

“I saw it and I thought of you,” he unraveled the chain, holding it up. The round pendant twisted, shining in the sunlight, and he saw the way you lit up at it in pure shock. It… truthfully looked as though it would be expensive.

“Soonyoung…”

“Can I…?” He unlatched the clasp, and you turned with a tiny smile. Carefully, he draped it around your neck, fixing the clasp. His fingers brushed against the back of your neck, and he stepped back. “There.”

You turned back to face him, smiling a little. The chain was longer than he expected, the pendant falling closer to your chest than your collarbones, but you looked just as radiant as you always did. “Thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ll treasure it always.”

The tiniest flower of jealousy seemed to bloom within Soonyoung’s stomach. All you knew was this had been Soonyoung’s present to you… and yet all Soonyoung could think about was stupid Mingyu’s face, smiling brightly. He’d never mention that you loved it to Mingyu. He’d never heard the end of it if he did.

“Actually… I want to show you something.”

Soonyoung followed you out of your house, closing the door behind him and immediately hearing an unsettling noise when he did. When trying to open it, you discovered that he’d messed with it so it didn’t sit correctly anymore. You made a small joke about Soonyoung not knowing his own strength (oh, if only you knew) before you took his hand anyway.

“I’ll have someone come around eventually,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.”

So he wouldn’t. He trusted you, and he figured he would merely break it further if he tried. You took his hand, and began to guide him out of the town, saying something about how this would be a walk. He asked casually enough about if you would carve a little cat out of wood, since he had a friend who saw the tiger and loved it so much. You had agreed with a warm giggle, saying that you would do anything for him, before you started to tell him stories as you entered the woods together. In your youth, you would get lost within these woods alongside your friends. The sun would be setting as you all found your way home, your friends scared of the witches that the bigger kids always said lived in the woods. You, on the other hand, had never been.

“One day, I got separated from everyone,” you kicked a pebble along the path. “It was getting darker, and I started getting scared that I might not find my way home. And then… I saw it. There was this glowing bear in the woods. And it looked at me, and I felt like it was telling me to follow it.”

Soonyoung already knew what it was: the guardian of forests. Seungkwan’s doing, no doubt. Seungkwan had always found some way to protect children through sending a benevolent bear to guide them out of the forests when they were lost. It was surrounded by this warm glow as another way to tell them that it was safe. Follow me, the aura said, I’ll protect you. It protected others too, according to Seungkwan, but it would always come to children when they needed it.

“I feel like I’ve always had a connection with nature because of it,” you said. The two of you had entered into a clearing within the forest, and you let go of his hand. “That’s why I’ve always dreamed of building a home here.” You spread your arms out, twirling in the sunlight before you stopped to face him again. “But for now, it’s where I come to think.”

“Do you come here often?” Soonyoung walked forward, taking in the sights.

It almost reminded him of his own domain a little bit. There were wildflowers springing up from the grass, dotting the area with little white and yellow and pink buds. He could hear the brook in the distance if he listened closely, and the sound of animals running to and fro. If it were a little brighter, it’d be like home for him. Soonyoung turned to watch you as you seemed to thrive here, crouching down to admire the flowers. He could hear the music of the earth if he listened close enough: the bubbles in the brook, the scratching of a squirrel in the trees, the wind as it whistled…

“Do you dance?”

You turned, before standing back up. “Do you?” You smiled. “Are you asking me to dance this time, Soonyoung?”

He smiled, and offered his hands to you. The smile you gave him in return could light the sun once over, and you placed your hands in his own. He drew you closer to him, guiding you happily.

“You’re better when I’m not drunk,” you teased. “Is this what you do for a living?”

“Something like that,” he laughed warmly. He squeezed your hands a little, twirling you out from him. “So… Why do you like me?” He brought you back in, “You said you didn’t like the other people here. Why me?”

You hummed for a moment, thinking over the question. “At first, you just… You stood out. But now… I think you’re sweet. You came back to town, and I realized I really liked dancing with you that night.”

“I came back to town because I liked you, too,” he confessed. “I thought… I didn’t want to miss this chance.”

“Really?” You giggled softly. “So why did you like me, then?”

Because you seemed to outshine life itself, and he needed to know why. “I like your stories.”

“Well… Good,” you hummed. “Is that all?”

He smiled, drawing you in closer. “And I like you.”

Something about it made you laugh. “You’re so honest,” you said. “I like that. Most people dance around their feelings for far too long.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, gazing into his eyes. “The girl at the marketplace counting petals and wondering if the other girl loves or not despite knowing the answer. The boy that was too shy to tell his friend that he loves him until his friend says it first…” You hummed. “Why waste time when you’ve found your actual soulmate?”

“Is that what I am?” Soonyoung’s hands rested on your hips. “Your soulmate?”

You smiled at him again. “Is that what you think I am?”

Soonyoung leaned in, kissing you instead, and you kissed back eagerly. Soulmate, he thought to himself. It was as though Hansol had wrapped a string around the two of you, tying you together in a hidden way that only his heart knew to be true. He felt as though something deep within him had yearned for you since the moment the two of you met. You might be his soulmate…

Soonyoung liked the sound of that.

Hansol had come into Soonyoung’s domain that night when he returned home, and immediately gagged when he saw him. Soonyoung had looked up to where Hansol had hunched over, a wrist pressed against his mouth as he leaned against a pillar near the entry point to his domain. Was the smell truly that strong? Jihoon had said Hansol had known that Soonyoung was in love, and apparently he reeked of the smell. Jihoon once smelled like this, too—that had to be what Hansol was smelling. The love of a god to a mortal, something truly awful apparently.

“Soonyoung,” he said, catching his breath. “You’re going to get yourself hurt.”

Soonyoung groaned. “Why does everyone keep telling me that?” He sat up from his space in the grass, where he’d been daydreaming about the day he spent with you. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was in that clearing again, kissing you.

“I mean it,” Hansol said. “Dude. I don’t want to tell you this, but I spoke to the others. Wonwoo and Seokmin both agreed that no matter what you do, she’s going to die because of it. Even Joshua admitted it—”

With a wave of his hand, Hansol was whisked out of his domain, and the entryway was temporarily severed. He turned over onto his side, shutting his eyes again. Everyone was against this, but why? If he was truly putting you in danger, then they should tell him what it was. That way, Soonyoung would be able to find a way to protect you. All the others ever did was tell him to stop, and they never gave him a real reason past a vague idea that you would die. All mortals would die one day, and Soonyoung just wanted to enjoy the time had with you before he lost you. If he lost you. Maybe, by then, he would have found a way to truly save you—and not in the way Jihoon had done.

He started to see you daily. Some days the two of you would walk together, hand in hand, through the town. He would accompany you to the market, and you would teach him how to haggle, and he would carry your bags back home like the gentleman he was trying to be for you. You never did get that door fixed, but you had said you didn’t mind it. It just meant you had to lift it a little when you opened or closed it, and that unwanted visitors wouldn’t be able to get in so easily. He met your friends once, as they ate dinner with the two of you and teased you endlessly for falling so hard for Soonyoung. You didn’t even deny it anymore, and Soonyoung would smile so hard that his cheeks hurt. They pointed out that he seemed to love you just as much, and Soonyoung didn’t deny it, either. He just kissed you passionately once the two of you were left alone again, happy to have your company. Other days, the two of you would rest in your home together. You would read poetry to him sometimes, because he loved to listen to the sound of your voice. Everything was always prettier when it came from you. He watched you carve the cat for Jun one day, explaining everything as you did. Your mother had taught you how to carve these things, and you were a little better at normal cats than you were tigers. Soonyoung passed it to Jun one day and saw the look of pure delight in his eyes when he looked it over, thanking him for the gift.

Seokmin asked to meet you one day. At first, Soonyoung had been hesitant… But he let him accompany him down to your home. When you answered the door, you’d almost greeted Soonyoung with a kiss until you saw his companion.

“This is my friend,” Soonyoung said. “He was at the festival with me, actually. He was passing through town, and—”

“I’m Seokmin,” he introduced himself, taking your hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Yet the moment his touch met yours, Soonyoung could see that Seokmin’s smile twitched a little. All too easily, he recovered and followed you into your home. You always made extra for dinner, since your neighbor had a baby to take care of now, and you would try to take food to her and her partner when you could. If not you, then other people did—everyone looked out for one another here. Seokmin listened to you attentively as you talked over dinner, asking questions about how he knew Soonyoung (he worked alongside him before). Seokmin seemed to take the role of entertainer with ease, always knowing the right thing to say to make you laugh. All Soonyoung could do was sit by and fall even deeper in love with you.

The two of them left your house, making their way out of town so they could return home, and Soonyoung saw the way Seokmin changed within an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Seokmin continued forward. “I see why you adore her so much.” He paused, though, and turned to face Soonyoung in the dying light of day. “You want to see her again, don’t you?”

Soonyoung smiled to himself. “I always do.”

“You should go, then. I’m sure she wants to see you, too. I’ll go home by myself.”

Soonyoung could only thank him, turning on his heel to return to you. You had greeted him warmly, and the moment that the door was shut behind the two of you, you’d taken him into your arms and kissed him passionately. His back bumped against the door, and his hands fell to your waist immediately.

“Your friend is nice,” you said when you stopped for a moment, “but I had to fight myself to keep my hands off of you.”

He chuckled, drawing you back in for another kiss. “Don’t you always?”

You playfully swatted at his side, pressing a quick peck against his lips. “With you, I really have to.” Your hands slipped underneath his shirt. “Soonyoung, I—”

Your fingertips traced his bare skin, and suddenly he understood what it felt to want another person deeply. That deep, devoted need to be closer to you than he had ever been before. He stared at you, and he realized that you felt it, too. No wonder you always found some way to touch him. He’d kissed you passionately before, that need building within the core of his being to be with you, but not like this. It felt hot and heavy and his head felt suddenly so much foggier than it had ever been, his mind centered only on you, you, you. He drew you back in for another kiss, deeper than before.

“Soonyoung,” you said after a moment. “Do you want me?”

He did. More than anything now. He was thankful for his godly strength, even when suppressing everything else about himself, as he lifted you into his arms with ease. He carried you away, your arms hooked around his neck as you giggled. With every taunting kiss you placed against his neck, he grew giddier, and he stopped hesitating once he threw you onto your bed. You had lured in him fully, and he was more than ready to be yours in every possible way.

Which must have been why he felt so guilty come morning. He’d woken up, turning over to admire the beautiful sight of your bare skin. He wished to study you further, to have a mental map of every dip and freckle and blemish your skin had so that he could worship every single part of you fully. But he needed to return home, at least to attend to what he needed to. He leaned in, kissing your lips for as long as he could spare before he left your bed. It had woken you up, and you watched him get dressed in the early light of day, chuckling to yourself at the marks you’d left on him.

“Can’t you just… stay here with me?” You reached for his hand, drawing him in again. “Forever?”

A temptation so, so sweet… but one he had to turn down again. “Maybe tomorrow,” he said. He could do this, he thought to himself. He could live a double life. He just needed to get things in order. “I don’t want to go.”

You let out a sigh—not disappointed or annoyed, but tired. “I know.” You kissed his knuckles. “Soonyoung, I—”

He kissed you one more time, and he felt the way you smiled into it after a moment. He drew back, pressing one final kiss against your forehead. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “I’ll come back to you.”

Your smile wavered for barely a second. “I know you will. Until tomorrow.”

Hansol wrinkled his nose again when Soonyoung passed by him. Jihoon looked concerned. Soonyoung just returned to his own realm to do what he needed to do. All too soon, he curled up on a warm patch of grass, and fell asleep, lost in a beautiful sense of bliss he already ached to feel again.

Jihoon yanked Soonyoung from his sleep without a second thought, and didn’t speak once as he dragged him out of his domain. Soonyoung had barely woken up, yet followed Jihoon dutifully. Sometimes the gods had these meetings for whatever reason. Typically it was when war was coming, because Seungcheol would always go down below, unseen by mortals, to watch the bloodshed. To circle war tables and sometimes push for something that would end the fighting sooner. It was invigorating. It was draining. But Jeonghan was in charge until peace came, in which Jeonghan would go down and bring Seungcheol home. Of course, not all of this pertained to the others so much as it was just a reminder that they had jobs to do. That just because Seungcheol was leaving was not an excuse to play around.

Yet Jihoon shoved him toward the middle of the room without a word. Soonyoung realized that all eyes were on him—save for Seungcheol, who was staring up at a mirror that Joshua must have brought in as an alternate to his pools of water, and Jeonghan, who was watching Seungcheol.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s over, Soonyoung.” Seungcheol turned back to him, pity in his eyes. Guilt, too. A look that said I should have never let it get this far. “I’m sorry.”

Soonyoung looked up at the mirror, something pulling him toward it. He tried to focus harder on the blurry scene. It was always harder for anyone who wasn’t Joshua (or a save few others) to look into a person’s life and see what was happening. But he saw it. Fire. Your town. Your home. You, in your bed, waking up to the sound of someone trying to get in. The vision was lost as he stumbled back. “No—”

Seungcheol took his hand. “Soonyoung, I’m sorry—”

Seokmin stepped forward. “She was marked for death. I felt it when I touched her hand. I’m sorry, Soonyoung, I couldn’t remove it. It’s in fate’s hands now—”

“No!”

Soonyoung tore his hand free from Seungcheol’s grip and took off running. Despite the lunge Mingyu had made for him, Soonyoung was desperate. He threw his elbow into the man’s ribs. Even gods had weak spots when it came to another god hitting them, after all. Soonyoung needed to get to you now, before something worse could happen. He landed below, barely masking his aura as he took off running toward your home.

Your house was ruined by the time he got there. It was still burning, but he screamed your name. The door was open, and he rushed in to see your ransacked home. Broken pots and ceramics, furniture upturned and strew everywhere, curtains ripped to shreds… But the back door was open. He went through it and saw your poor, still-burning garden. Yet no you. The ground was disheveled near the fence, trailing up the side of it too. You got out.

You got out.

Soonyoung hopped the fence with ease, taking off running in the direction that the dirt led. Toward the forest—you’d ran away. You must have. He just kept yelling your name as loudly as he could, listening for something, anything, that told him you were alive. If he focused on the little wooden tiger in his pocket, he could still feel you. Everyone had a connection to their creations, and he just had to follow it to you. This golden string that was wrapped around his own soul and drawing him forward. Yet he heard crunching, further from the twigs and leaves underneath his own feet. He wasn’t alone.

He saw you first, lying on the ground in the clearing that you’d kissed him in. And in a different direction, he saw a man, making his way toward you. All it took was the glint of a knife for Soonyoung to drop his aura.

“Get the FUCK away from her!”

And within seconds, the man had burst into flames. Soonyoung stood, the sound of his scream echoing in his ears, and he turned his attention back to you. The man collapsed to the ground, dying and burning and filling the air with this disgusting smell that’d haunt him forever. Yet Soonyoung just made his way forward to you, growing more desperate with those last few steps. He dropped to his knees next to your crumpled body, staring at you for just a moment. You’d curled in on yourself, chest slowly rising and falling. You were alive. All Soonyoung could do was say your name once more as he reached for you, suddenly so much more helpless than he’d ever been before.

“I’m here,” he said, reaching for you. “I’m here, I’m here…”

Your life was fading, and he could see it in your eyes as they seemed to grow dimmer. Yet the light that was starting to shine around him reflected in them. “... Soonyoung?”

“It’s me,” he said, a hand cupping your face. He could feel powerful presences growing closer to him. The others were coming. “What happened?”

Before you could answer, he suddenly noticed the dark stain at your abdomen. He reached a hand down, and pulled his hand away to see dark blood covering his fingers. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no—

“I’m sorry,” you wheezed out, hand taking his, your own blood smearing against your skin. “I… I tried to run, Soonyoung. I’m lucky. I… I heard one of them trying to break in, and…”

“Who did this to you?”

“Bandits.” You pressed your cheek against his hand. “Came into town yesterday. Didn’t mention it.” Your brows furrowed together in pain, one of your hands dropping down to your wound. “Didn’t—Didn’t wanna scare you…”

“No,” he whispered, voice cracking, “nonono… Don’t,” he clutched your hand in his, “don’t go.”

“Soonie,” your hand squeezed his. Your eyes were welling up with tears that he could see as his light grew brighter. “It hurts.”

He could fix this. He had to fix this. It wasn’t your time yet—Seokmin had to be wrong. It couldn’t be your time yet. Not when you had so much more life to live. Not now.

“Soonyoung!” Seokmin’s voice rang out across the clearing. And then he heard him say his name again, softer as he grew closer. Seokmin kneeled down on the other side of you. “It’s time,” he said. He reached toward you, “I have to take her—”

“No!” Soonyoung slapped his hand away. He felt the air grow hotter around him. The sky was bright with fire and ash, and even the moon overhead seemed to glow brighter now. “You aren’t taking her!”

Wonwoo stepped forward, too. “Soonyoung, we warned you—”

“You aren’t touching her!”

Fire crackled around Soonyoung, and he watched as Seokmin and Wonwoo backed off immediately. Sweat began to bead at Soonyoung’s browline, and the world seemed so, so desperately hot. Even the others had recognized it, as Soonyoung had seen the way they were tugging at their clothes and wiping away sweat. Jihoon even seemed pained, his own aura glowing a little brighter. Soonyoung’s gaze fell to you again, one hand falling down to your wound. Maybe… Maybe if he used a little of his fire, he could fix this. He could close your wound, and Joshua would heal you, because Joshua always supported him, and you would live. You had to live. He couldn’t let you go. He wasn’t Jihoon: Soonyoung was not as strong as Jihoon. He felt tears run down his face, and he let you a sob, pulling you into his arms, face buried in your shoulder. You were still alive in his arms, he just had to find a way to keep you there.

“Don’t—Don’t cry.” You chuckled weakly. “Can’t cry over me, Soonie.” He felt your hand push between the two of you, and he drew back to see the pain on your face. “Guess… Guess the girl who gave you this won, huh?”

… What? Soonyoung felt a tug around his neck. He stared at you, and then looked down to where your hand had clasped around that little golden vial.

“I hope she’s nice to you,” your voice grew quieter. And then you let out a whine, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck—”

Soonyoung didn’t think. He ripped the vial from around his throat, the corded knot coming undone with ease. He ripped the cork out with his teeth.

“Soonyoung, what are you—” Minghao had spoken up. “Soonyoung!”

“Let him.” Joshua hid a smile, standing furthest away from the group.

Soonyoung could hear someone questioning Joshua, but his eyes met yours as he squeezed you gently. You’d opened your eyes again after a moment, tears running down your cheeks. He took a deep breath. “Trust me,” he said, “and I’ll tell you everything.”

Your life continued to fade within his arms, and Soonyoung knew he needed to act now. He pushed the vial between your lips, and watched the golden liquid drain into your mouth. He watched as you weakly swallowed it, entrusting your life into Soonyoung’s hands without hesitating. Soonyoung dropped the bottle onto the ground, and watched, waiting for something to happen. All too soon, it did as your chest began to glow. A ray of golden light, so similar to Soonyoung’s own, sparked up from within it, and then began to spread throughout your body. Suddenly, that fading reversed. Your life grew stronger—stronger than it had been before. The wound in your stomach looked as though it had the sun’s rays stretch from it before he watched the skin pull itself back together, the wound disappearing under blood until it faded into nothing but soft skin.

He hoped you would look him in the eyes, suddenly alive again. Instead, your eyes fluttered shut, and your head lulled. But he could feel the hum of your life force as it grew stronger and stronger underneath his fingers. He could see you breathing. Soonyoung turned, looking to Joshua and calling out to him with a quiet “Shua—”

Who merely smiled and raised a hand, waving before disappearing into thin air. Immediately, it was followed by the yelling of angry and confused gods before they started to follow after him… Except for Soonyoung. He turned back to you, pressing his forehead against yours. Beside him, he could feel Jihoon crouching down.

“I’m sorry,” he said when he looked up, “that this couldn’t be done for—”

“Life changes,” Jihoon simply said. “Joshua learns.”

Suddenly, it clicked. Joshua had always seen this coming. Soonyoung looked to you, and hoisted you into his arms with that same godly strength he used to break your door and to carry you to bed before. He saw something split, though: the you in his arms was not the you left on the ground. Had this happened when he was given godhood? Or was he made differently? He’d have to ask Seungcheol sometime. But he paused, paying respects to your mortal form before he turned to Jihoon. The rain had begun to finally begun, the distant smoke and fire having begun to die down. Jihoon stood beside him, and looked to the distance.

“Let’s go home.”

Underneath the warm sunlight, you woke up in a daze. One minute you had felt yourself clinging to that last thread of life, and now…

“Good morning.”

Soonyoung kneeled beside you, a hand cupping your face. He looked at you so, so lovingly now. You realized after a moment, though, that something was… off about him. He seemed to have this stronger aura that surrounded him. The same one that had drawn you to him that first night, but seemed to disappear when he returned to you. He felt warmer, too, underneath your fingertips as you reached up, taking your face into his hands. Maybe even more radiant, if you were honest, but Soonyoung had always been radiant in your eyes. He smiled at you, leaning in to press his forehead against your own. Your memories were foggy, but you remembered Soonyoung clinging to you. The sound of him yelling at others, and this weird, warm feeling that overtook you for a moment before it was frightened away. Then you were fading and fighting…

Now you were here with your lover.

“Where am I?” You asked after a moment, once Soonyoung had drawn away. “Is this… death?” Then you paused. “Soonyoung, did they get you—”

He merely laughed, so soft and warm and welcoming. “I have… a lot that I need to tell you. Please don’t be mad.”

Your lover was literally a god. The same god you had been celebrating that night in the center of town when you drunkenly tripped over your feet and into his arms. Talk about full of himself (you’d have to tease him over it later). Soonyoung told you everything, though. For as long as he could remember, he’d been the God of the Sun and the God of Dance. So when he told you that he was a dancer, he wasn’t technically lying… It just happened to go a little beyond that. The man he had brought to you once, Seokmin, was the God of Death and the Underworld, always looking after those who depart from life with a warm hand to guide them onward. He’d almost taken you a few days ago when Soonyoung found you, but… You technically owed your life, whatever it was now, to Joshua, the God of Life and of Medicine.

“I saw what was going to happen,” Joshua had confirmed Soonyoung’s suspicions casually enough. Soonyoung had brought you to him because you wanted to thank him yourself. “I watched Jihoon lose his lover. I wasn’t going to let it happen again.”

“Jihoon…?”

Said god lingered around the doorway to Joshua’s domain, having followed you and Soonyoung in. Soonyoung drew away from you, just enough to turn and look at him.

“My brother,” Soonyoung said. “They’re all my brothers, I mean, but… Jihoon’s different.”

Jihoon’s face went red at the sappy way that Soonyoung had said it, so genuine and endeared to his beloved friend. All Soonyoung could do was laugh, and Jihoon pouted. “Don’t say it like that,” he said, a hand curling around the crystal that hung around his neck. “She shouldn’t like me. I tried to stop this—”

“You had to try and stop this,” Joshua piped up. “Everyone else kind of had to try. Except Mingyu, but Mingyu… Mingyu does whatever he wants.”

“That pendant’s actually from him,” Jihoon said, a tiny smirk on his face. “So technically—”

Soonyoung let out a groan, “Don’t say it!”

Joshua merely chuckled at the two, before his gaze met yours again. “All of this was going to happen one way or another. The bandits would come to your town. You would escape, but not get far before one found you… and then he would kill you. Soonyoung had stepped in before your life was cut even shorter.” He sat down on that chaise, draping an arm over the back of it. “And thankfully he never drank what I’d given him when all of this began.”

“I said I wouldn’t!”

Joshua laughed again, so light and airy. Suddenly, you understood why there were so many poems dedicated to him. “So now you’re… well…”

“One of us.”

Another man had entered, far more imposing than the others. Yet he had this soft look in his eyes when he saw you, especially when he saw the way Soonyoung stood so protectively close over you. No one could blame him—not after he watched your life nearly slip through his fingers. He made his way over to Joshua, standing rigid beside his chaise.

Soonyoung stared at him, brows drawing together. “What?”

“Potentially,” Seungcheol corrected himself. “It’s not in my hands. But whatever Joshua mixed up changed her entirely.” He stepped forward, closer to you, and gave you a proper once-over. You could feel what he meant, though: something about you felt… stronger. Warmer. More powerful, but in a vague sense, as thought your body was still a pile of clay to be molded. “And if she’s chosen… She’ll be one of us properly. Either sharing a domain with another, or taking it over entirely. It depends on what the upper powers want.”

You furrowed your brows and looked to Soonyoung for some sort of guidance. “Upper powers…?”

“Higher gods,” Joshua said. “While we’re all pretty powerful on our own, there’s bigger guys out there. One of them made the entire world as we know it. Think of it like this: Jeonghan’s the God of Creation, but he’s only a lesser one of it… and he’s more in charge of creation in a vague, artsy sense. Who knows,” Joshua said, lounging back. “Maybe you’ll be like that if you’re chosen.”

“And if she’s not?” Soonyoung said quietly. “They can’t get rid of her… Can they?”

Seungcheol exchanged a worried look to Joshua. “I’ll be speaking on your behalf today,” he said to Soonyoung. “I trust her. Anyone you’re willing to sacrifice everything for must be special.”

You’d hidden a smile at that, and seen the way Soonyoung’s cheeks flushed. Before anyone could embarrass him further, he decided you needed to meet the others. That included Wonwoo, who greeted you warmly and apologized to you almost immediately. He had accepted it, though, that fate had dictated he try to stop Soonyoung. He introduced you to Hansol shortly after, who outright gagged as Soonyoung came into his domain with you, hand-in-hand. He’d apologized for both that and for his own hand in trying to stop Soonyoung from loving you.

“It’ll stop,” he said after a moment. “Godly love smells different. You still… smell like a mortal’s love.”

Whatever he was smelling, you couldn’t smell it. “Sorry—”

“Don’t be. You’re great,” he said. “Just—no one can smell it. Just me and, uh, other people like me. I’m in my own personal prison.”

It made you laugh a little, and Hansol chuckled, too. He merely told you to keep Soonyoung in check, earning a groan from him. He wasn’t that immature. Love just made him do something a little crazy. Where was the problem in that?

The others were warm to you, too, even if they all apologized for their hands in this plot (save for Mingyu, who boasted that he always had faith in Soonyoung the entire time). While they all had beautiful domains in their own right, you stayed alongside Soonyoung in his own. There was nowhere else you’d rather be after all. He gave you space to mourn your beloved down and the others that fell alongside you. The two of you saw that your body had been found and buried by your friends and loved one, and Soonyoung accompanied you to your grave with a spell cast over both of you to keep you invisible.

He left the little wooden tiger at your grave to watch over it. He didn’t need it anymore: he had you now.

The two of you only fell deeper in love with each passing day. He let go of the mortal exterior he’d taken to speak to you before, letting himself be fully genuine around you. He was still bright, warm, loving Soonyoung when he was with you, but you realized that he was a little quieter. Less so when he was around the others (especially Seungkwan, who Soonyoung took delight in occasionally teasing), but his love was gentler than it had been before. It came in the forms of gentle kisses and checking on you, in making sure that you were happy and well alongside him, and in taking care of you. You were able to see firsthand how hard he worked, and the way he cared for the sun. Yet you saw him love you more with each day. He stole kisses from you whenever he could, and impressed you with his strength. Jihoon had told you not to fall for it: he was a complete doofus when you really got to know him.

(You merely told Jihoon that you already knew that: that doofus was who you fell in love with.)

Your title was bestowed upon you in a great hall when you were called before a higher council of gods. You didn’t know the other faces in that hall as well as the others did, but you felt secure. Seungcheol had held one of your hands in his, representing his specific group with a stony face and an iron will. Soonyoung held your other hand, supporting you as your partner in everything from now on. He’d admitted to you he was terrified that they would take you away from him. They had the power to do so, after all.

The higher council spoke all at once with this tinny sound to their voices, all melding into something that felt as though it could crush your skull with its power. Maybe if you were a mortal, it would have. They said your name, and went onto a long spiel about what made a god worthy of their titles.

And then you were deemed the Goddess of Youth, after you had had yours ripped away. The lesser Guardian of the Sun, to stand beside your lover evermore. And a Protector of Fate, which you had defied, although not alone.

Soonyoung almost sobbed when he heard it among the cheers. You were his. You would always be his. He would always be yours. He lifted you up, kissing you proudly in front of everyone. The two of you were safe now, and he hugged Seungcheol tight, thanking him a thousand times for whatever he must have said to help this decision come to. Seungcheol swore that he did nothing: that it was Soonyoung’s love for you that did most of the work. He merely accepted the knowledge that would be given to you, all wrapped into a tome. Although you wouldn’t be considered one of his to be in charge of (at least, not quite yet—decisions were yet to be finalized), Seungcheol would be the one in charge of guiding you as you learned your place.

Soonyoung took you back to his domain—yours now, too—and kissed you again. He lifted you into his arms, always happy to show off his strength in full now (you always teased that you knew something had to be up—no mortal man could carry all he did without breaking a sweat), and carried you forward. He laid you onto his chaise, kissing you as you guided him back with you.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips. He came into your life pretending to be a mortal man because you had bewitched him heart and soul, turning him into nothing but a man with a single night. You were his soulmate, and he was yours, even in godhood now.

The world would change in time, and eventually begin to tell tales of the God of Sun and his lover who appeared within the sunbeams that broke through trees in forests. The warm figure who walked alongside the protector of the forests to guide children home, before disappearing with a distant wave, always a story that young people spoke of fondly. Some stories said that in a clearing within a forest, the God of Sun could be seen, lounging with his lover as though they had no cares in the world (the two of you had escaped to the mortal world one day, just to enjoy the sunlight there together, and apparently some travelers had seen you). One day, they would carve your body from marble, but never quite get you right. Others had their own ideas for what you would look like, the same as they did with Soonyoung. No one would ever utter your name, but it would live on Soonyoung’s every day. He had you for life now, immortality to keep the two of you together.

But in your arms? Soonyoung was nothing but a man who had devoted himself to you with everything that he had. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #svt imagine #svt angst #hoshi x you #hoshi x reader #kwon soonyoung x you #kwon soonyoung x reader #hoshi angst #hoshi fluff #kwon soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung angst

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