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#jlmwon
justlovemewrite · 6 years
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wrapped up | 1
title: wrapped up member: d.o length: 3k genre: fluff, angst
a/n second part will be up as soon as i decide if there’s a smut attached or not~ that was my original plot but now i’m reconsidering it, so! we will see. not proofread (yet?)
part one — two — three
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A book, a comforting blanket, dim lights, and the great outdoors providing an all-natural, completely organic storm playlist for you; this was your idea of a good night. You sighed as you tucked yourself in further into the blanket, curling your feet so they didn't stick out underneath it, and turned a page on your book.
It was storming outside, and as the weather had predicted this from morning, you had planned ahead and decided to spend a night in taking care of yourself. And, unlike what people may say, you were not lonely, thank you very much. You were perfectly content on your own. This was where you were best; when you didn't have to account for someone else, even if that somebody was—
The doorbell rang, and you blinked. Who would be here at this time? The storm was bad enough that everyone had been recommended to stay in for the evening.
When the doorbell rang again, you slowly pushed your blanket off you and padded to the door, peeping outside. Do Kyungsoo stared back, looking sheepish—and very, very soaked. You gasped and unlatched the door, stepping aside immediately. "Kyungsoo! What are you doing here? And—why are you all wet?" You hurried back as he stepped in, grimacing when he dripped onto your floor. He opened his mouth to answer you, but what came out instead was a sneeze. You winced and moved to get him some towels, signaling for him to shut the door behind him.
"Are you alright?" you asked when you found your extra towels, bringing them to him and handing him one. He began to pat down his hair as you wrapped one around his shoulders, patting it in place and stepping back immediately after.
"I'm so sorry, I know it's late but I didn't know where else to turn."
"That's fine," you said, shaking your head. Kyungsoo's office was pretty close to your own, and with his hours he probably got caught in the storm. And you weren't going to leave him out in the cold, of course not. "What happened?"
"I was back late working on a—" he sneezed again, louder this time, and you bit your lip and gestured to the bathroom.
"Tell me later. You need to get out of these clothes," you said, and he nodded, nose red.
Once he was in the bathroom, you turned to your bedroom, getting a pair of his old pajamas out of your bottom shelf, and looking around for a shirt. Nothing of yours would fit him, but he needed some warmth, so you pulled out a thick robe that might be a little tight in the shoulders, but would at least keep him covered.
You knocked on the bathroom door, pausing when the sound from inside stopped. "Kyungsoo? I've left some clothes out here for you. And take a shower before you come out! You need to warm up."
Once he agreed, you left the clothes down on the ground and returned to your living room, throwing a towel down on the wet spot at your entrance. From the couch, your book stared up at you, bookmark saying pick me up!, but your concentration was lost for the night. How was a book going to occupy you when Do Kyungsoo was in your bathroom, taking a shower?
Not that this was a first time occurrence. He had showered in your house before; had slept in your bed before, he had left his clothes at your apartment before. But all of those things were before—before you had slipped up, before the two of you had slept together and you had said those three dangerous words.
You shook your head and got off the couch, looking inside your fridge instead. You had some leftover soup that you could heat up, and sandwiches were always easy to make. Would he have eaten? Knowing his working habits, you were fairly sure he had not—when he was deeply involved in a recording, he tended to reach absorption, and lose all track of time. That was also probably how he got caught in the storm.
You leaned back against the counter as the soup heated up, trying not to think about the last time this kind of thing had happened. Kyungsoo had been in your shower after the two of you had been splashed by a passing biker, and while he had showered you had decided to make some pasta. You had stood at the stove, stirring your (storebought) sauce, unable to stop yourself from imagining that he would come out from the bathroom all warm and damp and soft. He would wrap his arms around you, ask you what you were making, tell you it smelled delicious. You would turn around, and he would smile at you, and it would be just for you.
Except of course, none of that had happened.
You sighed.
It wasn't your fault, really. How could anyone not fall in love with Kyungsoo? And you, pretending to date him and calling him sweet names and holding his hand and feeling the full force of his warm gaze on you as he wrapped his arm around your waist and introduced you as his—how were you supposed to keep yourself from falling for him?
You had met Kyungsoo through mutual friends in college, and you had become good friends in a larger group, usually sticking to each other when there were too many rowdy others around. You were the balancing forces in your noisier group; when some of them (see: Baekhyun mostly) turned too wild, you were the calming presences that dragged them home and made them hangover soup. Over the course of those years you had naturally grown close and gravitated together, and had kept in touch better than most others had after university ended; it also helped that the two of you remained in the same city for work.
You were good friends, but you were just friends; you might have looked at him and thought oh, handsome one time or five, but that was all there was to it.
Then there was the party. You had had a boyfriend of eight months at the time, and while in hindsight it was hardly the best relationship you had been in, at the time you had been delighted—and very in love. Naturally, when your family had called you to their annual get-together, you had promised to bring your boyfriend, who you couldn't wait to introduce them to; mostly on account of your evil cousins, who had teased you through your adolescent years and continued to believe you were too boring to have a good partner. It didn't matter; you were going to take Changmin and he was going to knock their socks off.
And then you broke up. Not very noisily or messily—you were apparently not meant to be, and you may have cried a lot, but you accepted it when Changmin said, gently, that he didn't want to lead you on when he didn't see this going anywhere permanent.
Which was fine, really. It was. Except when your mother called up saying she couldn't wait to see you and your boyfriend, you were stuck. Well, not quite stuck; you had two options: either admit you had broken up and sit through your cousin's teasing with the knowledge that you were in the right, or accidentally forget to tell your mother you had broken up with Changmin and then panic at Kyungsoo that you had no date to bring. Kyungsoo being the perfect friend he was had suggested he pretend you were dating, just for the evening, and that you take him. At the time, neither of you had seen the possible flaw in the plan: feelings. You had been delighted, Kyungsoo had been happily obliged (especially when you offered to treat him to a nice dinner the next weekend), and your family were charmed.
A week passed, and then two, and then Kyungsoo called you up saying hey could we maybe repeat this? It's just, I have a work wedding, and my boss says to bring a partner. And how could you say no when he had been there in your time of need?
More importantly, why would you say no when he said there would be free food?
So that had started that, and the two of you had become each other's dates whenever an event with a partner was required. It was easy, the two of you were friends, you were usually available all the time, you both enjoyed the prospect of free food, and since you had known each other so long it was so easy... And then it was a little bit too easy.
Kyungsoo's eyes twinkled when he looked at you, and you knew it was pretend but the butterflies in your stomach were a little too real, and a little too fluttery. Whenever you had an event, the two of you would go to whoever's place was closest and get some kind of dessert or rent a movie, some kind of relaxing activity after spending ages around too many people—it was fine at first to fall asleep on his side and wake up tucked into a blanket, and then it wasn't. It was fine having him compliment you, and then it felt too real, and also not at the same time.
But you could handle it. You could, really. You just had to never mention it to him and keep going like you always had, and your little crush would disappear; it was all because of the fake-dating, anyway. You would just invite him to less events and feign being busy if it wasn't too important for him, and you'd be fine.
"Y/N?" you heard Kyungsoo's voice from the hall.
"In the kitchen!" you called, craning your head out past the counter. Kyungsoo appeared, still rubbing at his short hair with the towel, robe wrapped tight around him. Clearly the shower had worked wonders; his face and nose were a lot less red, and he was also not shaking on the spot, both good things. "I decided to make some soup and sandwiches."
Embarrassment coloured his features. "You didn't have to," he said.
"You need to eat. How long since you ate last? Let me guess—you skipped dinner because you were too busy with a recording?" Kyungsoo worked at an audiobook company that was tied up with a larger publishing house. He was a narrator, but that wasn't his primary job; either way, he tended to spend long after the official working hours trying to perfect his work. You smiled as he moved to the counter, ladling the soup into a large bowl and plating the sandwiches up.
Kyungsoo accepted the tray with a low thank you. "You know me too well," he said softly, and you let out a quiet huff. So you did. That had been part of the problem.
The two of you settled back onto your couch, you throwing the blanket over the both of your legs as he placed the tray on your coffee table and blew on the soup. It was largely silent as he ate, looking much better with some warm food in him. "I really am sorry for coming here so late," he said after a few minutes. "I didn't want to bother you, but—there was nowhere I could go."
"What did you think, I'd kick you out in a storm?" you asked, scoffing as you took a sandwich for yourself, more to busy your hands than anything else. Kyungsoo cleared his throat, taking his time with a sip of soup before he replied.
"No, but... I don't know. It's been a few weeks."
It had. It had been a few weeks since the two of you had spoken. Or rather, it had been a few weeks since you had made your mistake.
It had been a frustrating kind of evening; a colleague of yours was getting married and wanted all his coworkers at the engagement. You didn't technically need a date, but everyone expected you to bring your long-term boyfriend, and at that point the two of you didn't need an absolute requirement to go with; it was just mutually, silently, agreed upon. Kyungsoo had arrived, looking amazing in a suit that did wonders to emphasise his thighs, his waist, and you couldn't help but stare—not just once, but all night. But for once, you were sure you weren't the only one looking. You felt his eyes linger on you in your dress. You noticed when his lips brushed your ear when he went in for a cheek kiss. You felt his hands around your waist just a little tighter than usual.
And you were sure he noticed, too, that you were braver than you had ever been before. He must have realised when your hands lingered on his leg just a little too long, when he caught you staring from across the room. You were sure he knew what you were doing when you had pulled him just a little closer when you were dancing, felt his grip tighten on your bare back.
When you got home, you had expected it to end. But it had evidently just been starting; as you groaned with satisfaction to take off your heels, Kyungsoo pulled you closer, staring at you. His eyes were molten—you had seen them up close many times, you had seen them smiling and shy and softened in affection and even hardened in anger, but you had never seen such heat, and certainly never directed at you.
"Can I kiss you?" he had asked. How were you supposed to refuse? It was evidently a night of doing new things, spontaneous things, and you had done exactly that: you had slept together; and then you had told him you loved him; and then he had disappeared in the morning.
"It has. But I wouldn't just let you freeze!" you insisted, frowning. Did he really think you would just—kick him out? Not take him in in the middle of a storm? He couldn't think that, or he wouldn't have come here, would he?
"I know, I'm just... I was scared. You could kick me out now and I'd deserve it." You frowned. For what? For sleeping with you? For ignoring you? For leaving you after you had said you loved him, a silent, if effective, rejection? For not telling you to your face that he didn't return your feelings?
"I'm not kicking you out," you said softly, and he sighed into his soup, not meeting your eyes. "You're not going anywhere until it's dry outside."
He laughed under his breath. "That might take a while." You couldn't help the pang at his words, the low tone, the way he wouldn't look up at you. It was so awkward between the two of you now. It was like it had been months or years, not just four short weeks since you had spoken—less, even, just over twenty-four days. But then, in the last two years, you had rarely gone two weeks without meeting up at least once, if only for dinner or to catch up. In the last six months, not even a week.
"It can't be that hard spending time with me, can it? We'll be in bed for most of it." You paused. "Sleeping. Asleep. Not together."
He laughed again, pushing off the couch to put the tray away. "I'll do the dishes."
"You don't need to do the dishes." You followed, getting up after him and crossing your arms.
"You made me food. I should do the dishes." How domestic. The tone was entirely sarcastic, and you took a deep breath to push away the frustration rising in you alongside the sadness. All this time you had been friends, all this time you had spent falling in love with him, and this was what happened when you slipped up and told him. You hadn't welcomed him here or made him food to prove a point. You didn't want this—this facade of domesticity when he was angry with you. You just wanted to know if you could fix what you had.
"You're my guest, you don't need to do the dishes," you said, following him into the kitchen, one hand on the tap pressing it shut as he tried to turn it on.
"Oh, I'm a guest now?" Kyungsoo turned around, close enough that he took over your field of vision. His large eyes narrowed at you behind his glasses, an unreadable expression growing on his face. You kept staring up at him; you were not going to be the one to look away first.
"You made yourself a guest when you implied I'd kick you out."
"Are you sure it wasn't before that?"
You crossed your arms, working to put some distance between the two of you. You didn't want to be so close you could feel his body heat even through the thick robe, but there you were—and really, there was nowhere for you to go, trapped in the narrow space between the counters in front of and behind you. "Yeah? Yeah, maybe it was when you cancelled all plans I tried to make with you for ages."
"I cancelled—and what about when you ignored me for days? I'm sorry, Kyungsoo, I was busy and didn't see your call, I'm sorry, I'm at work, I'm not feeling great, not today, I'm so sorry." His imitation of your pitch was high and false, and you could hear the irritation in voice, the way the frustration seeped into his words despite his even tone. You let out a breath. You had been ignoring him, and it had been intentional—but then, what were you supposed to do when he had done it first? He was being unfair, and he knew it, and you should too.
"Like you tried so hard to talk to me, huh? I tried—I texted you, I called, and you didn't respond! Not once! For three days straight!" you snapped back, moving closer as you tried to keep your own voice level.
"I—I had things to think about. I was busy. I was recording," he said, tone changing as he defended himself. You scoffed at the flimsy excuse, and he leaned into your space, glaring. "What excuse do you have? I knew you were home that day, by the way, I heard you come to the door and you knew I was here when I called you and what do you do? You text not home sorry."
Your heart dropped into your stomach. You hadn't realised he knew that day, that you were home—but then, he always had been perceptive. But you couldn't have opened the door for him that day. It had been five days since that night, and you had called and texted to almost complete silence for three whole days. It was a rejection, pure and simple, and you were broken up about it—of course you were. You'd been crying half the day when he'd arrived at your door, and you had seen the apology on his face from the keyhole. You didn't want him to see you crying, and you knew he'd hear your tears in your voice if you picked up, so you'd just texted.
You hadn't realised he had known. You would have been hurt too, if he had done the same.
Except, of course, he had. And you had been hurt. And you wouldn't have had to ignore him if he had just picked up your calls once, if he had just told you that day that he didn't return your feelings, if he had just let you down gently instead of disappearing and letting you take it as you liked.
"Fine," you said, stepping back. You swallowed heavily, trying to clear the blockage from your throat before you continued. If you kept thinking about this, you would get angry, and if you got angry you would cry. You didn't want to cry in front of him today. What you needed was space to calm down, and hopefully the possibility of fixing at least your friendship. "So we both ignored each other. Okay. We just need to—" you cut off, looking around you.
But Kyungsoo wasn't done. He grabbed your wrist as you turned to leave, and dropped it immediately like he'd been burned. You pulled it close to your stomach, circling it with your other hand as he started to speak. "I know I ignored you and that I shouldn't have, but you—you can't be like this, taking me in and worrying over me and taking care of me and then calling me a guest like I'm not your best friend. I've washed your dishes dozens of times, Y/N. I know it's awkward, and it's uncomfortable, but what did I do to—"
"You left!" If you hadn't been yelling earlier, you were now. "You just disappeared, you f—you left me!"
"And you lied to me!" He was yelling, too. He seemed to realise only a second later, and he took a wide step back, as wide as he could make it, entirely out of your space now. You stood, frozen on the spot, unable to look away from him. A moment passed, then another.
"I'm sorry for yelling," he said, clearing his throat. "I shouldn't have."
You nodded, leaving your kitchen space so there was a clear two feet of counter between the two of you. "I'm sorry, too. I got caught up in the whole—" you waved a hand about in lieu of explanation, and he nodded, apparently understanding. But then, the two of you always had understood one another. No words required. Maybe that was why he had disappeared without a word. He must have known you would understand. Tears pricked at the bottom of your eyes.
"You can do the dishes if you really want. I'll go get some extra blankets out," you said, and disappeared into the hallway.
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justlovemewrite · 6 years
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wrapped up | 3
title: wrapped up member: d.o length: 4k genre: angst, fluff, smut (in that order ?)
a/n: well here’s wrapping it up (hehe) sdfgh im nervous + one of these days my chars will have protected sex. that day is still not today
part one — two — three
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But if that was all he was giving… then it was enough. Kyungsoo your friend was better than no Kyungsoo at all. And you were not going to jeopardise that with your stupid, unnecessary feelings. You were—you were probably still reeling from the mess of emotions yesterday had been. That was it. No more of this.
You could fix this.
You had to.
You emerged with a smile pasted on your face. Kyungsoo was back in your robe now, chopping vegetables, eggs gathered in a bowl next to him. "What's for breakfast!" you asked with a clap, looking over your counter.
"You know you have almost nothing in your fridge?" You made a defensive noise, averting your gaze as he chuckled, keeping his focus on the sharp knife in his hand. You hadn't done a lot of shopping recently, mostly since you had tried to wrap yourself up in work as a distraction from all your messy feelings—also as you were used to going grocery shopping with Kyungsoo, who could always tell a good tomato from a bad one.
"I have lots of leftovers!" It was your primary mode of feeding yourself when left alone: make something in very large quantities and heat it over and over for the rest of the week. It was boring, but it worked. Kyungsoo, who loved food and cooking for some reason you didn't understand, hadn't lived like that since college when none of you had the time to cook.
"We're not having leftovers for breakfast.” He shuddered dramatically. “Eggs, and you can toast some bread for us. It's the best I could do with what I had."
"What would I do without my own Soo chef?" you asked, ignoring his snort and moving past him to grab your bread.
"Hopefully not starve." You rolled your eyes at the speech you'd heard more than once, something which went right out of your other ear by now. You stayed on standby with the bread, waiting for him to start on the eggs so the bread wouldn't cool before they were done.
A call rang out, Kyungsoo's ringtone loud in the quiet morning, and he handed you his spatula as he went to pick it up. You stirred the vegetables, looking up when he appeared by your counter again. "Work?"
"Yeah. They were just calling to let me know they're not opening today and not to come in—storm, you know." He switched places with you, taking out an egg to crack into the pan. You started the toaster, climbing back onto the counter.
"Only you would get a call from work telling you not to come in when there's a storm out. Most people just assume." Kyungsoo shook his head, ignoring you and your remark. "What are you recording these days?"
He hummed. "This Chinese novel they're translating. You'd love it." You laughed. You tended to hate the books he recorded, buying the audiobooks out of a sense of loyalty—though he insisted every time that you didn't have to—and cringing your way through them. The last time you had enjoyed a book he had recorded was a year ago, a crime thriller.
"I still don't know how you read those out with a straight face."
He snorted and said, "Practice." The two of you fell silent after that, you grabbing two plates once the toast was done and taking them to him. He served the both of you, and you carried your plates to the coffee table as Kyungsoo covered the remaining eggs.
"What are we watching?" you asked, getting your laptop out.
He hummed, going to pull the curtains shut, then said, "Singin' In The Rain?"
"Cool." Between the two of you alone and together, you must have watched Singin' In The Rain at least fifty times. It had become your go-to when there was nothing to watch; both of you may have memorised most of the dialogue, but there was something satisfying about the sheer drama of this film no matter how many times you watched it. You set it up and sat back as the opening credits began, placing the pillows and blankets you'd given Kyungsoo up so you could both lean on them, making space for him.
He left just enough space between you that none of you would touch except for your elbows. It was probably not intentional—and you were not going to think about it.
The two of you were mostly silent for the first half of the movie as you ate, with the exception of some whispering of lines above the film, but as your eggs disappeared the both of you began to talk softly, just enough that you weren't louder than the movie. It was mostly small-talk, Chanyeol being back in town the next weekend, how your family was, how his brother was doing, if you'd finished that book you'd been reading. You relaxed, slowly, but you did, sinking back into the couch so your shoulder brushed the thick fabric of his robe. Kyungsoo seemed to be relaxing as well, body fitting back into your couch, where there was practically a dent from how many times the both of you had sat exactly like this.
As the screening scene—one of your favourite scenes—arrived, the both of you fell silent, only mimicking the lines.
"But the night is full of our enemies," Kyungsoo started in a nasal tone as the line arrived, mimicking Lina exactly. You laughed along with the audience in the film, shaking your head.
"Imperious princess of the night..." you trailed off as Don said the same thing—the very words—you had, but to laughter instead of silence. You pressed your lips shut together, something painful churning in your gut as Kyungsoo slowly stiffened beside you. How many times had the two of you watched this, repeated these exact lines? Now you couldn't, and all because you'd made the mistake of saying it once for real, no playacting or joking.
There was an abrupt beeping from the next room, and you shot off the couch, upsetting your laptop. "That'll be your clothes," you said, and all but sprinted out of the room.
You sorted through the clothes, pulling your own out and throwing them into a basket. You'd fold them later. Later, when you weren't about to explode.
Why had you said it?
At the time, you hadn't realised the mistake you were making. Kyungsoo had gone to throw your washcloth in the laundry, and you'd been lying in bed, sleepy and happy and questioning nothing and hoping for—everything. With him. And he had returned to the bed, lying next to you with something in his eyes that you had mistaken for love, and when he had cupped your face in his warm hand, you had said: I love you.
He hadn't said anything—only stared at you for a moment, then gone to sleep. When you woke up, he was gone, and wouldn't pick up your calls or respond to your texts. And that had been that.
You were still standing there, his clothes in your hands, when Kyungsoo appeared in the door, eyes dark and distant. You blinked up at him, then stretched your hand out to him. "Sorry," you said. "Here are your clothes. I got distracted."
He took the clothes from your hand, and started untying the robe as if he was in some sort of daze. You made to leave, standing outside the door, pressed to the wall. Half your body hurt. You couldn't move if you tried, but you had to, you weren't going to just stand here when Kyungsoo was inside changing, he hadn't even shut the door.
Why was he in a daze? You could explain yourself, but...
Before you could move, Kyungsoo appeared in the door, only half-changed. The shirt was crumpled in his hands. "I can't do this. I know—I know I said I'd put this behind us, but Y/N, I can't. I need to know."
His eyes were almost pleading. You took a deep breath. "Need to know what?"
"Why did you lie?"
Your heart sank. Did he mean—no. He couldn't mean that, could he? Why would he think you had lied? Was he just hoping you had lied so he wouldn't really be breaking your heart? "When did I lie, Kyungsoo?"
"You really don't know?"
He'd asked you this last night, too, but everything about this was different. Your heart was about to fall out of your chest. You shook your head: no.
"When you told me you loved me."
You hadn't lied. Why would you? But—he had been hurt by it. Why would he be hurt by it? Were your feelings so awful to him? You bit your lip to keep your eyes from tearing up, but they did nonetheless. You looked away, down to your feet so he wouldn't see, nevermind that he probably knew you were crying, anyway? "Did that hurt you that much?" Your voice shook more than you would have liked.
"You—you had to know it would. You know how I feel about you."
You did. You knew—that was why you had hidden your feelings for so long. Apparently you should have continued it. What would have happened if you had said nothing, kept your mouth shut? Maybe you would have been spending time as usual these last few weeks. Maybe you'd have realised your relationship wasn't progressing anytime soon and accepted it, continuing to bury your feelings.
Maybe it was best that way. You took a breath, blinking your tears away, and looked back up at him. "That's not the end, though, right? I didn't fuck us up forever? I'm sorry, Soo, I know I shouldn't have said that, but—we can pretend I didn't, right? We just go back to—"
Kyungsoo let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. "It's not that easy."
"I can't lose you, Kyungsoo. You're—you're my best friend. You're too important for us to just fall apart because of this one thing."
Kyungsoo opened his eyes, looking at you sadly. You took another deep breath to stop more tears. "It's not just one thing to me. I can't—"
"Please, please. I don't want to hurt you, you know that, I just—these last few weeks have been awful. I missed you so much, this whole time, and we haven't even tried to fix this. It's not fair that you're deciding that we can't without at least trying. I'll make myself okay with how you feel. And you do the same, and we'll go back to being—"
"Friends?"
You nodded weakly. "Friends."
"That's a problem. I don't think I can be friends with you anymore." You looked up at him, heart dropping abruptly. "You don't get it. You keep saying you want your friend back, but you—I can't forget it all. We slept together, Y/N. That's not nothing. And you told me you loved me. That's not—I can't forget that."
"Why not?" you asked, voice breaking again. Kyungsoo started to raise his hand as the tears began to overflow, but stopped, clearly too hesitant to be affectionate toward you now. You wiped the stupid tears away yourself, wishing you could speak clearly, without your vision obstructed and your throat closed and this terrible ache right in the center of your chest. "If I can forget, why can't you? Why is it harder for you than me? Why am I the only one who's fighting here, when I'm the one who—"
"I can't forget what you said because I'm in love with you!"
It was like time stopped.
"Kyungsoo—" you started, but your voice caught in your throat.
"I said it, okay. I'm in love with you. I have been—I've felt this way for a while. And I know you know, and I know you don't feel that way. I don't expect anything from you, I never have. But you knew how I felt, so why did you say that to me? You had to know that would hurt me."
"Soo, I..." you broke off, the bubble in your throat stopping words from coming out. Were you still crying? Your chest hurt, but in a completely different way. "You've got it all wrong," you managed in the end. "I had no idea."
Kyungsoo blinked, "How could you—"
You cut him off. "No, I—I didn't know. I thought... this whole time, you've been talking about my feelings for you... my feelings of friendship?" Kyungsoo nodded, and you shook your head, more tears slipping past your cheeks. "You've got it wrong, Soo. I'm in love with you. I have been for a while, but I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of what we have. And then that day you were looking at me and I just... couldn't hide it. So I told you."
Kyungsoo was frozen still. "You told me... you confessed to me." You nodded, wiping at your tears still. "And I left."
You swallowed. "I thought you meant—I thought you didn't want to tell me you didn't feel the same way. And then you wouldn't pick up my calls, and I... I thought you were scared. All this time, I thought you couldn't look past the fact that I'm in love with you."
"No, I—" Kyungsoo cut off, looking at you like he had just run a marathon. "You—I thought you wanted me to forget my feelings." You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of you, shaking your head as he stepped closer to you. He slowly brought his hands up to your side, pulling you closer. You went, dropping your hands onto his chest. Were you breathing?
"You have feelings for me," you repeated, staring up at him. When Kyungsoo nodded, pulling you closer still, you let out another giggle, tapping his chest. "How did I not see it? You're terrible at pretending anything."
"Yeah, even that I'm in love with you." Kyungsoo said. "You—we were pretending to date. Why do you think it was always so easy to me?" Your mind flashed to every single time he had smiled and introduced you as his girlfriend, every single time his affectionate gaze on you had felt a little too real—because it was.
You gasped. The bubble in your chest kept growing bigger and bigger. "Oh my god. I... I completely fell for it. Are you sure you're a voice-actor, not a face actor?"
Kyungsoo laughed, bringing a hand up to your face to run his thumb down your cheek. "Face actor."
"Shut up!" You felt like you could be flying as you pressed your forehead to his chest. "I'm really embarrassed right now—do you know how much I've been crying in the last few weeks? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me since you found out!"
Kyungsoo stopped laughing at that, pulling your face up to his and giving you a soft look as he wiped away the trails your tears had left. "I'm sorry. I should have—stayed and talked to you, or asked you, or said something. I was just scared."
You shook your head. "I was scared too. I'd been hiding it this whole time, and then I said something, and... you know what? We should just never hide things from each other again. It only makes a mess."
Kyungsoo chuckled once, leaning closer to you. "Then in the interest of showing my feelings openly..." he trailed off, looking at you with the same intent you had seen in his eyes earlier—on that night, but now coloured with affection that you hadn't known how to see then. "Can I kiss you?"
You grinned up at him. "Yes."
Kyungsoo kissed like he did everything; with dedication. You knew this already, but you could appreciate it better now. You leaned into him, letting your hands wander down his chest, stopping at his waist to keep him close. His pulled your bottom lip between his, licking into your mouth, deepening the kiss. One of his hands descended to the small of your back, pressing you to him. Your bodies were pressed together chest to hip, and the kiss that had been sweet one second turned into something else, making you want to be closer, closer.
When you broke away to breathe, Kyungsoo was heaving, his eyes still shut. You giggled at the way he was trying to get himself under control, pressing a few light kisses to his jaw as you did. Kyungsoo's hand tightened on your back, keeping you pressed to him. You didn't mind—he was radiating body heat, and you chased it with your lips, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his neck. "Y/N," he said, voice low and deep enough to send a thrill of heat through you. "We should," he paused as you nipped at the skin between his neck and shoulder. "We should maybe—slow down."
You leaned back for a second, giving him a pout. His eyes opened slowly at the loss of your lips—and met you with heat that might as well set fire to your insides. You'd never seen him look like that. Like he wanted to devour you. You shivered. "Are you sure you want to?"
He kissed the pout off your lips, but it was only a moment before he pulled away. "No," he admitted, and you laughed at the bluntness. "But if you keep kissing me like that, I don't think we'll be able to stop. And I thought you might want to... take it slow."
He was so sweet your heart was about to overflow any second—but he was also wrong about what you wanted. You leaned your head back, giving him a look. "I've wanted to do this for months, and I'm pretty sure you have, too. We can take it slow later, okay? Right now, just—kiss me."
Kyungsoo had no problems listening to you there. He was back on you immediately, turning the two of you around so you were pressed into the wall, him hovering above you. You pulled him closer to you until you were all but pressed together again, his lips on yours and his hands holding you to the wall and to him and his scent around you. You groaned out his name when he pulled away from your mouth to trace a pattern on your skin, tugging at your earlobe with his lips and kissing down your neck. At the sound he swore, pressing you harder into the wall, his hips pushing into yours.
He was hardening, you could feel it, as you moved your hips best you could to grind on him. Soo pulled away from your neck, giving you a look before he moved back to capture your mouth, moving one leg between yours so you couldn't move against him. You ground shamelessly down on his leg, satisfied when Kyungsoo groaned into your mouth.
"Bed," you said. He nodded, barely pulling away from you. You took a step back and tripped, your legs dangerously unsteady, and Kyungsoo let out a low laugh as he realised just what state he'd brought you to. That tone travelled straight to your core, and you took a deep, shaky breath as you stepped over the clothes on the ground and pulled him backward, to your bedroom. Kyungsoo pushed the door shut and pressed you to it, already kissing you again. His hands disappeared under your shirt, kneading your waist, and you groaned into his mouth. "Bed," you insisted, pulling away from his mouth for a moment. Kyungsoo nodded but didn't move, pulling off your shirt and throwing it somewhere behind him, then sliding the straps of your bra down your arms.
Your stomach constricted as he licked his lips, looking down at you, and you grabbed his arms, turning around and pulling the both of you to the bed. Kyungsoo followed, landing just on top of you, his erection rubbing against your leg through his sweat. Kyungsoo leaned up and struggled with your tights for your second, until you raised your hips and kicked them off yourself, ignoring them to look at the way he stared at you, eyes dark and warm.
"Soo," you whined, and his eyes snapped back to you. "Touch me, do something, come on."
He pulled himself onto all fours, hovering over you. You wondered what you looked like from that angle, lips kiss-swollen, bra straps halfway down your shoulders and splotches on your neck from his attention earlier. He seemed to like whatever he saw, because he lowered his mouth to your chest, kissing and biting along your collarbones, lower, until he pushed your bra down. You reached behind you to take it off, but he left it on, letting it sit by your stomach as he lavished your breasts with kisses, biting gently at your pebbled nipples. You moaned and arched up, closer toward him. You didn't realise where his hands were going until one was at its destination, sneaking under your underwear to rub against your clit.
You squirmed underneath him as he shifted above you, getting comfortable. He nipped at your breasts, playing with you, while sliding his fingers along your folds. "You're so wet, baby," he whispered, and you nodded, bringing your hands up to bury in his hair. "Do you want me?"
"Please, Kyungsoo," you gasped out, and he acquiesced, pushing one finger slowly into you before sliding it back out, starting a slow pace of pushing into you. After a moment he added another, and you groaned as his thick fingers rubbed against your walls, stretching you out. You shifted, arching your back so he had a better angle.
Kyungsoo laughed, lifting his head up so he could look down at you. "You're so wriggly. You really want to come, huh?" You nodded, biting your lip as he rubbed at your clit with your thumb. "Can you come like this, sweetheart? Do you want to come just like this?"
You shook your head. "No," you said, Kyungsoo slowing his movements with a raised eyebrow. "I want you, I want to come around you."
Kyungsoo hissed and reached down, adjusting his sweatpants. You made a noise, reaching down yourself to push at the pants, tugging the hem down. He made an amused noise, leaning down to kiss you once. "You're so needy," he whispered, then kissed you again. "I love it."
You tugged at his sweatpants as he kissed you, pulling at the leg of one with your toes. He took the hint and finally kicked them off, leaving him naked in front of you. You broke the kiss to look down at him, inhaling at the sight of him.
You had seen him before, but that night—well, it had been night, your lights had been dimmed, and you had been slightly drunk on the heat and excitement of it all. His cock was bigger than you remembered, not too long but thick enough to make your jaw ache and legs clamp shut. You rubbed your thighs together, looking back at Kyungsoo, who was looking at you with pure unfiltered lust in his eyes.
"Can I—" you started, and he shook his head, moving to hover over you again.
"I want you."
His tone, his eyes, all of it went straight to your gut. You reared up, kissing him as you started to kick your underwear off. With one hand, you circled his cock, giving it a few hard strokes. He moaned into your mouth, pulling away to breathe heavily, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. You kept pulling him off until he pushed your hand away, readjusting himself so he was between your legs. Slowly, keeping his eyes on you, he entered you, giving you a moment to adjust.
You nodded after a second, groaning as he started to move, pulling out only to bury himself in you again. You closed your eyes as you began to move in response, swiveling your hips to meet his as he thrust into you. He hissed, finding a pace that you both liked, breathing heavily. The room rang out with your pants and groans, and the filthy sounds of flesh meeting flesh, all with the pleasant background of rain. Kyungsoo brought his lips back to you, leaving feathery kisses on your jaw, making you sigh out against him. Minutes passed in semi-silence from the both of you, your body growing tenser and tenser until his jerks suddenly grew more abrupt.
"I'm going to come," he said. You nodded, holding onto him tighter, digging your nails into his back. As his thrusts grew erratic, he dragged his hand down your body, and he began to play with your swollen clit, making you jerk underneath him at the sudden touch. "Come on, baby, come with me."
He pressed a hand underneath your back, making you arch up and changing the angle between you. With that, he pressed his thumb harshly to the head of your nub, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The tightening in your stomach finally let go, your orgasm washing over you as you came, clenching around him. The added tightness seemed to get to him, too, and he began to come in hot spurts, his movement slowly ceasing as both of you grew too sensitive for it.
You were breathing heavily as he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he did. The mess got on your legs, but you ignored it as you looked up at him, smiling. Your heart was beating too fast to be any good, and you were definitely going to be a little sore, but you felt as though you could run a mile.
Kyungsoo got off you, collapsing beside you with a huff. You turned as well, the both of you groaning at the squelching noise as some more cum seeped out of you. He made to get up, but you threw a hand and a leg over him, looking up at him. "Give it a second?"
"I'll be right back, we should get—"
You cut him off, shaking your head. "Give it a few minutes. This is going nowhere."
Kyungsoo hummed and stayed put, so you climbed onto his chest, smiling up at him. A slow smile grew on his face too, until he was all but grinning at you. You giggled, pressing your face to his chest.
"What's funny?"
You pecked his chest. "Nothing. I'm just happy." You looked back up at him. "I love you. Don't go anywhere."
His smile softened, eyes crinkling. "I love you too," he said softly. "And I'm not going anywhere."
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