#or where your new beach house is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

en-ternity · 2 months

Text

⋅ GENRES: best friends (to strangers to friends) to lovers; angst, fluff & smut

⋅ PAIRING: neighbor!Sunghoon x fem!reader

⋅ WORD COUNT: 27.4K

⋅ WARNINGS: idiots in love, but make it slow-burn; forgive their dumb decisions at some points, they were scared; i caught myself being bias wrecked by Sunghoon, so don’t say you haven’t been warned; soulmates references although it’s not a fantasy au; mentions of alcohol and drugs; unprotected sex

TRACK 02 OF TAKE MY HAND

There had been a time when Sunghoon thought that you and he were meant to be forever.

And to be fair — his assumption used to make sense. For years, you had been best friends, halves of a whole, and the downfall of your friendship certainly was something no one could have predicted.

But that’s the thing about life — one moment people think they know exactly where they are headed, and the next, everything changes. The wind drifts the other way and suddenly, it is five am at the beginning of another Saturday. Sunghoon is clinging to his couch, wondering who he is looking for because you don’t go to parties anymore.

You were only ten when you first met Park Sunghoon.

While some parents ventured to the bustling cities in search of better opportunities, your parents decided to take the opposite turn and move to Uljin. About two hundred twenty-four kilometers southeast of Seoul and bordering the Sea of Japan, it was a county of sand-dirtied streets, a single commercial avenue, and no twenty-four hour parlors.

The breezes always carried the brine scent of the seashore, and the houses were built in the same bungalow style. No one within the limits of the county escaped the low-pitched roofs with wide eave overhangs nor the exposed rafters at the front porches. But a lucky person could have the beach just one deck away, and a luckier one could have Park Sunghoon as the boy next door.

And well — you were as lucky as luck could be.

The first time you had ever seen him, he stood on the sand with Yeji, a telescope stuck nearby, and the moon softly bathing his features as he looked up at the vast expanse of the night sky.

It was too cold to be outside, honestly, an autumn night that felt like winter on your bones, but you also had heard about the meteor shower that would happen that night. A celestial orbit that passed the Earth once every seventy-six years, and it had been the only reason you decided to sneak out that night, wandering to the beach with a scarf rolled around your neck not just once but twice.

Although his little sister had been the first to acknowledge your presence, it had been Sunghoon who offered to share the telescope with you, the corners of his mouth shyly tucking with a smile as dimples flirted at the soft skin of his cheeks.

Looking at him then, you didn’t know what he would become to you — how important he would become to you. But on the next morning, he rang the bell of your new house and asked if you wanted to go to the main avenue with him, and just like that Park Sunghoon became shared cakes in the autumn, snowball fights in the winter, bike rides to the school in the spring, and your whole summer. During the bright days, Sunghoon would laugh heartily with you, his eyes gleaming with mirth as his dimples never failed to appear, and then when the night fell, he would whisper into the darkness of your room. His back side by side with yours until the sun broke and colored the walls tangerine and pink because you never bothered to close your curtains.

Throughout the seasons that turned into years, Sunghoon became your best friend, and as foolish as it could be — your other half.

ULJIN-GUN, NORTH GYEONGSANG

SUMMER OF 2020

It was later than usual when Sunghoon called that night. Your parents’ television always turned into some reality show until ungodly hours had already been turned off and the house was nothing but the sea breezes coming through the opened windows and softly blending in with your phone’s ringtone.

“Sunghoon.”

“Can you come outside?” he asked at the other end of the line.

You leaped off your bed, moving as quietly as you could to the window. It wasn’t as warm as it had been, autumn already pressing onto the late august nights, and tingling your skin, but when you spotted Sunghoon standing at the end of your family’s deck stairs, his jacket was hanging in one of his hands instead of his shoulders.

“I don’t know, can I?” you asked, immediately stealing a smile from him. Even in the distance, you could see it tucking at the corners of his mouth and flirting dimples at his cheeks.

Sunghoon peered up at you, head tilted to the side in a false consideration. During the course of your friendship, you had done it far too often, but still — Sunghoon always started with the same question, and you always replied in the same way. It was a monologue never really planned or written down, but that both of you had accepted and played.

“Just come already, teeny. I brought you a jacket,” he said, slightly shaking the piece in his hands.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart already pounding in your chest as you tip-toed through the darkness of your family’s house and its back deck, barely making it to the sand before Sunghoon slagged his jacket on your shoulders, a sneering huff escaping through his lips because while you settled on your height at the age of fourteen, he continued growing — his jackets turning harder to fit you with the passing years. But Sunghoon was still careful with it, adjusting it as best as he could despite you being a few good centimeters smaller than him now.

“Teeny,” he whispered, giving his jacket one final pat before he held his hand out for you. His fingers spread so you could fill the small gaps in between as he guided you toward the sea.

Sunghoon stopped just before the water could reach your feet, but still, the breeze caught the cold sprinkles, brushing them against the exposed skin of your cheeks.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he said.

“At three in the morning?” you asked. “I don’t think there is anything open kilometers from here.”

“No,” he laughed. “It’s going to be our last semester of high school, so I have been thinking, we should go somewhere else after our graduation.”

“Do you want to leave Gyeongsang?”

“It’s just — I don’t think there are many good options here, and my father has been trying to convince me to try a scholarship at Konkuk University.”

“Seoul? Seriously?”

“Well, Konkuk is one of the best for biological science, and — it happens to be one of the best for linguistics too,” he said. “It’s what you want to do, isn’t it?”

Something filled the inside of your chest with his question, so warm and tender. You couldn’t find the words to reply, so you only nodded at him, a smile already tucking at the corners of your mouth because even in his dreams, Park Sunghoon included you.

“I just thought that we should do it together,” he said. Although he didn’t give himself enough time to doubt the wisdom of saying it, the words came weakly — almost getting lost in the breeze before you could even clasp them. You pulled his jacket tighter around your body, tugging the collar up to your mouth and accidentally breathing in everything about it: the citrus perfume blended with the brine scent of the seashore, which was the same as saying Sunghoon’s scent. “You are my best friend, plus — you would miss me too much if we ever went separate ways.”

You looked up at him, but he didn’t return your gaze. Sunghoon was still looking at the sky, watching it with the same intensity as when you first met him years and years ago.

Late august nights were never really warm in Uljin, and the air carried a particular humidity that caused his hair to curl fondly. You were glad your mouth was covered and hid the smile you couldn’t control from forming with the realization that it was true — you would miss him.

“Let’s do it together,” you conquered. “Let’s stay together.”

“It’s a promise now,” Sunghoon said.

He looked down at you, suddenly letting go of your interlaced hands. But before you could sorrow the absence of his warmth, he held his pinky finger at you. The gesture was so silly that you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound tingling across the night as you curled your pinky finger around his.

“It’s a promise now,” you echoed.

But you should have known — some promises were simply meant to be broken.

GWANGJIN-GU, SEOUL

SUMMER OF 2022

Kim Haneul was the messiest person you had ever met, and you told her this.

Konkuk University’s dormitories weren’t spacious — actually, just enough had been the term you used to describe it to your parents, but this afternoon, Haneul seemed to be on a mission to make it unbearable. The floor of your shared room had been cluttered with her old textbooks and past projects, some pinkish post-its sorting their destination between home, donation, and trash in her bubbly handwriting as her clothes took every other space.

You had offered to help many times, but your roommate insisted on doing it by herself. What left you no other option than to stay at your desk chair, pulling your legs up, and wrapping your arms around them in an unconscious attempt to save some more space as you watched her fumbling through a pile of clothes.

“Is this yours?” she asked, completely ignoring your comment.

You looked at the apricot dress Haneul had picked up. It was a beautiful backless thing, and the straps were so delicate, you couldn’t help but wonder how it managed to hold everything in place. However, despite its beauty—

“I have never seen it before,” you told her.

“Being honest, I don’t remember ever seeing this either,” she sighed, long and heavy. “I was about to complain once again about this system of us having to empty the dorms every summer but then I remembered that I have graduated, so I would have to leave anyway.”

“You will manage it — you always managed it.”

“I know, I am just stressed,” she said, abandoning the apricot dress and moving her attention to a buttery yellow one. “You know what? My flight is only tomorrow night and you are only leaving for Uljin on Sunday, we should go out.”

“Like right now?”

“One of my classmates is throwing a party tonight.”

“I don’t go to parties,” you said, immediately receiving a look from her.

It wasn’t a lie — although it hadn’t always been like this.

A year ago, it wouldn’t matter whose party it was or what they were commemorating — if Park Sunghoon was there, you would be there too, hands intertwined and sharing the same doubtful cup until it was hard to tell if it was really late or really early. But you couldn’t go back to the university dormitory without getting a warning, and your only option was to crash in his frat house, slipping underneath his blankets as his arms curled around you and brought you a centimeter too closer to him.

His roommates weren’t even surprised anymore. Heeseung barely batted an eye as he caught you wandering around in the kitchen in the mornings afterward, and Jake already had an extra cup of coffee prepared for you.

But then, Sunghoon started to have flings.

Hyuna at the end of the winter semester, Sunhee at the beginning of the spring, Chaeyeol at the end of it, and some others in the middle of all of this.

He still insisted on taking you to the parties, the black Jeep his father gifted him parked in front of your dormitory’s door and ready to take you anywhere. But his girls were always hovering around, their eyes narrowed and unable to conceal the hate they had for you.

Sometimes they were so good at keeping Sunghoon away from you that you didn’t even see him until the party was over, and you had awkwardly been alone for hours, uncertain of what to do or where to go. So eventually, you didn’t feel like going anymore.

Of course, you were still friends outside the furor of the parties. But with the new reality of Sunghoon and his flings, plus you beginning your relationship with Jongseong, you both drifted apart. Days without hanging out turned into weeks, weeks turned into months of no real conversations, and then, Sunghoon canceled the last plan you ever made together and a shouting phone call was the last thing you remembered before your lives had gone on without each other in them. The new and strange became familiar, and all the promises you once made turned into nothing but a memory of a different life.

“You know you are allowed to go to parties without Sunghoon, right?” Haneul asked.

His name whispered through you, and you tightened your arms around yourself, fighting back the flood of feelings that threatened to overwhelm you at the mention of him.

One thing was to have Sunghoon hovering around your mind, another was to have him verbally put into a conversation.

“Of course, I know it,” you said, forcing out a smile.

Haneul walked towards you, softly wrapping her hands around your elbows, and you could tell she was choosing her words carefully even before she said them.

“You better, because it has been a year since you both stopped talking, and I don’t know. You were never here during the weekends, but now it’s hard to find you outside,” she said. “I don’t want to be that person, but Jongseong spoke some truth in the breakup speech — it seems like a part of you simply disappeared together with Sunghoon.”

“So let’s do something fun tonight. I am going back to the matchbox my hometown is and I have no idea what my life is going to be from now on,” she continued. “Consider this my graduation wish.”

“Wasn’t your graduation wish to get drunk on the university’s artificial lake last Sunday?”

“My graduation wish with you,” she mended.

You breathed in, turning your focus away. Despite it already being seven o’clock, the sun was still hefty outside, and suddenly, you had the impression the room had turned dimmer in comparison. The late june sunset pressed against the windows of your room, and shafts of golden luminescent streamed through the smudged glass.

You could feel the beginning of another summer slowly settling in. And how strange it was — to have the whole season caught in a breath that wasn’t his.

“I will think about it,” you said.

Haneul smiled, giving you a tiny squeeze before she abruptly let you go.

“I know you already have your answer.”

┈┈┈┈

You weren’t sure whose house it was, but there was graffiti on the walls and some lousy music was blasting through a pair of wireless speakers at the corner of the living room. The device long pushed against the wall just like the rest of the furniture so people could dance under the colorful lights, purple and red bouncing on their faces.

By the time you encountered Haneul from your trip to the bathroom, a different song picked up, less lousy but still trembling the floor and stealing the sound of her delighted scream.

“Let’s dance,” she yelled, pushing her cheek against yours because it was the only way you could hear her beneath all the furor of the place.

“You go on and have fun,” you yelled back. “I am going to get another drink.”

“You really need it.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her, but she only smiled, leaving you to shove past people, and accidentally elbow a few couples who were too busy making out to open space.

The makeshift bar didn’t change from the last time you had been there. Aside from the notable decay of quantity, the options remained cheap beer and even cheaper soju.

You reached for a beer with a crinkled nose — bitter drinks definitely weren’t your favorite choice, and to add to your distress, someone had disappeared with the bottle opener.

It’s not like you hadn’t seen bar tricks already, people opening bottles with their teeth or countertops, but to perform it seemed different.

You didn’t want to take the risk of breaking a tooth, so you placed the bottle cap on the top of the ledge, carefully studying your next move, yet before you could do anything, he reached for you, his hands brushing against yours more like an echo of touch than in fact a thing as he took the bottle away.

“Careful,” he said. “You might hurt yourself like this.”

You knew it wasn’t a real thing, but you could swear your heart quelled at the sound of his voice, that tiny gap where a heartbeat should be.

You had molded the moment you would encounter Park Sunghoon in your mind enough times to believe you would be prepared when it finally came into reality. Yet there was something strange about seeing someone after so long — a sudden uncertainty if time had passed correctly.

A year seemed like an eternity once, but not anymore. When you looked up at Sunghoon, you weren’t sure if a single day had passed ever since you both parted ways.

His gaze felt heavy on you, taking in how you had pushed your hair back due to the house’s warmth, brushing it behind your ears, and allowing your shoulders to be on exposure. Your skin was glowing beneath the colorful light, sparkling with slivers of gold glitter some woman insisted on brushing on you when you left the bathroom. But Sunghoon lingered only a beat on it, choosing to follow the apricot dress Haneul had pulled you in before he finally met your eyes.

Both of you stood there for a second, maybe two, and then Sunghoon cleared his throat and moved, abandoning his own bottle so he could focus on yours. He placed the cap on the top of the ledge, but different from you, he brought his hand down on it with no ado. The beer spilled with the roughness of the act, and the scent of fresh alcohol filled your senses.

“Here,” he said, handing it back to you. Your fingers slipped on his, and although you hadn’t even taken the first sip yet, you were already dizzy.

“Thank you.”

“When Jake said he saw you here, I was about to drag him home saying he had enough drinks for a night,” he said. “But turns out you are really here.”

“It has been some time. How have you been?” Sunghoon asked, retrieving his beer and bringing it up to his lips. You watched as he screwed his face, his nose scrunched because the warmth of the house had accentuated the bitter taste of the alcohol and turned it unpleasant. But he didn’t say anything, his eyes were still on you, shining beneath the colorful lights and waiting for you to talk.

“I have been fine, yes. How about you?”

“Fine,” he said. “Same old thing, classes, the frat house, and parties every weekend.”

The edge of a smile formed on his lips. It was such a small, quiet expression, but it lit him up, and you yanked your gaze to the bottle in your hands, desperate to find something else to put your attention on before the full force of his smile could reach you.

But you had turned your face away too late, and the familiar twinge his smile always made you experience had already occurred.

“Are you going to Uljin for summer?” he asked then.

“I always do,” you replied. You didn’t sound harsh or angry. If anything it was just you saying a factual truth, yet the words seemed to hang longer than it was necessary in the air, and in the rush of the moment, you talked yourself down. “I mean, I have to. They use the summer for inspections and reforms, so we are obligated to leave.”

You made the mistake of looking up, catching Sunghoon’s gaze as it felt on you in the same motion.

Behind him, a man appeared, friendly punching his shoulders before he moved to the makeshift bar and fumbled for a new beer. Sunghoon raised three fingers at the stranger, absently, and barely looking in his direction.

“When?” he asked.

“Sunday,” you said. “June twenty-six is the last day to empty the room.”

“I am also going back to Uljin,” he said. “I could — I could give you a ride on Sunday.”

You straightened yourself at the suggestion, fingers anxiously finding a rhythm against the bottle. It was silly the way your heart was pounding in your chest — silly the way your skin was warm in a way that you knew it wasn’t due to the early summer heat.

It had been a year since you last spoke to each other — a year since you had last made plans together. Everything was starting to feel too familiar beneath the awkwardness of the night, and for another moment, you didn’t know how to respond, choosing to swallow a good amount of the alcohol instead.

In the earnestness of your silence, Sunghoon studied you, his gaze unflinching even as he shrugged away, pressing his back against the cool of the fridge. His whole body moved with the guilt of someone who was taking their foot off the brake and still — was going to pretend what was coming next was an accident.

“Let’s bet,” he said. “Like the old times, c’mon.”

Sunghoon stepped past you, abandoning what remained of his beer at the makeshift bar, and sparing not even a single look back. He simply trusted that you would follow him, and you knew it wasn’t the greatest idea, but perhaps it had been the alcohol already simmering below your skin, or perhaps it had been simply because it was Sunghoon, but you did follow him.

God — you would always follow him.

The living room was even more crowded than a few moments ago, with too many people fighting for the same space on the makeshift dance floor, and Sunghoon reached his hand out behind him. It seemed involuntary, almost as if his body had moved on its own, and he didn’t notice what he had done, but you did.

You wouldn’t lose each other in the middle of the stranger’s living room, but once, when you were thirteen, you had reached out to him in the middle of a crowd, and then, he had never stopped reaching back to you.

Even now.

At first, he just pinched the tip of your fingers, but as he opened space through the living room and moved into the stairs, his fingers found the slots between yours, and you let him intertwine your hands.

He caught the second story just as a group was leaving it. They had that happy air of those who had gone too far on their drinks, the alcohol effects heaving through as one of them nearly collided with you. Sunghoon pulled you closer then, guiding you through the corridor before the other could even apologize.

You didn’t know whose house this was, but apparently, Sunghoon did. He took you to the last room without a hint of doubt, as if he already knew it was a game room. The walls painted in the extravagant tone of maroon as a pool table took the space in the middle, the velvet smooth beneath the dim light.

Sunghoon let go of your hand only to gather the balls in the center of the table, carefully alternating by stripes and solids before he turned to the wall and took two cue sticks from the hangers.

“If I win, you go back to Uljin with me. If you win, it’s your choice,” he said, giving one of the cue sticks. “Do you know the rules?”

He didn’t need to speak loudly nor lend to your side to be heard anymore. The music was quieter up there, almost an echo through your feet, but still, Sunghoon did — his breath brushing warmly against your cheeks as he spoke.

His accent didn’t escape you this time — that faint echo of the North Gyeongsang lull.

Although you had grown up there, you never acquired that way of rolling your tongue through the vowels and stretching the end of the phrases the way people of the province did, and to hear it made your chest ache.

“I don’t think so,” you said.

“Didn’t your boyfriend teach you anything?” he asked, stepping back. The question had been crafted merely as a tease, but you felt like you had been verbatim attacked at the mention of Jongseong.

He hadn’t been your boyfriend for weeks now, yet the news didn’t seem to have reached Sunghoon, and to be honest, you didn’t mind his oblivion on the topic. Sunghoon never tried to mask his ill feelings toward Jongseong — as cruel as it could be. And perhaps it was the reason that although it was an opportunity, you didn’t say anything about the breakup.

“He taught me a few other things,” you said instead. “He taught me how to drive.”

Sunghoon snorted at that, an unpretty thing that he somehow always made it work as cute.

“I don’t believe you. You hate even the idea of driving. You always refused when I asked if you wanted me to teach you.”

“I always had you to drive me whenever I needed. There was no point back then,” you retorted.

Your tongue had come loose, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or simply the duration of Sunghoon’s presence, but immediately, you wished you could take the words back like air into your lungs.

You turned your gaze away, but still, you could feel his eyes on you, that same unflinching gaze he had in the kitchen and your cheeks burned.

“But no,” you quickly added. “He didn’t teach me pool or anything like that.”

“Let’s make the game simple then,” he said. “I am the stripe, and you are the solid.”

“Do I have to pocket all mine or yours?”

“Yours and the eight-ball.”

“I do not like it already,” you said.

“I will teach you,” he said.

You settled over the stick, and he was on you again, chest pressing against your back as his hands found yours, cupping them into disappearance.

When you breathed in and his scent caught in your lungs, the same citrus perfume he used back in the years, and although now he carried the smell of tobacco instead of the brine scent of the seashore, it was all too familiar to you.

“You have to lose your grip,” he said, his voice was right by your ear, lips almost touching the shell of it.

“I told you. I don’t know how to play,” you replied, but Sunghoon only hummed, guiding you through a stroke and drilling the cue ball.

He let you go suddenly, circling the table and taking another practical stroke. This time, he pulled a ball into the pocket, and when he straightened himself back, you noticed he had glitter on him. The golden sprinkles the stranger had rubbed on your skin fetched to his dark jacket.

“You should learn if you don’t want to go with me to Uljin.”

“I didn’t agree on the bet.”

“We are already playing,” he said.

His gaze lifted, finding you still on the other side of the table, considering him, or perhaps, just watching him.

Down below, a mixture of cheers and noises erupted, but there was such a stillness between you, almost as if you were somewhere else.

“Alright,” you determined. “But if I lose, you have to be at seven in front of the dorms’ door — seven sharp, so I still can take the train if you don’t appear.”

“I will be there,” he said, a smile spreading across his face, transforming his features but this time, you did not look away, watching as his bare happiness spread through, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and flirting dimples into his cheeks.

Sunghoon looked so boyish like this, so soft, so — yours.

You had to remember yourself to breathe.

“If I lose,” you said.

“If you lose.”

On the following morning, Sunghoon was waiting for you at the front door of your dormitory, the engine of his black Jeep still on as he leaned on the hood with an apparently unaffected indifference.

His hands had been shoved in the pockets of his dress pants, and a pair of sunglasses had already been equilibrated at the bridge of his nose despite the fact it was barely seven o’clock, the whole campus still in a sleepiness state that only came with the beginning of the summer vacation, and the sky was still a mix of lilac and pink against the clouds.

It had been a year since you fell apart, but it had been years of friendship, and you still could read Sunghoon like no one else. He wasn’t the type to allow his faltering to show easily, but it was only necessary to look a little bit more to notice it was there — a shoulder twitch, hands thumping unrhythmically against his thighs.

When he saw you, he immediately managed to pull a smile, pushing himself away from the car. And everything about it was so compelling — so genuine. You almost could doubt if you had read him right.

He walked toward you, taking his sunglasses off and perching them on the collar of his t-shirt.

“Just those two?” he asked, referring to your luggage, and you nodded, more like an involuntary deed than an answer as Sunghoon was still focused on the objects.

He took both handles, finally looking at you, but your gazes met for a few seconds too long, and it became more awkward than necessary.

Perhaps you should have accepted Haneul’s farewell gift. Although you disliked soju — it doesn’t matter if it had been conserved with the best tangerines from Jeju. A dose of alcohol would do some good on your system now.

“Yeah, just these two,” you finally said.

You trailed closely behind him to the Jeep, not sure what to do aside from watching as he opened the trunk and efficiently hauled your luggage there.

There was something that should be said at that moment, you could feel it trickling through the corners of your mind, but before you could find what exactly it was, Sunghoon had already turned his attention back to you.

“I told you I would be here,” he said suddenly, and almost unwittingly, but the words ached within you so wonderfully that you felt something warm blooming very deep inside of you.

Sunghoon guided you to the passenger side, opening the door and waiting for you to fold yourself into the front of his car before he closed it with a soft slam.

The Jeep felt smaller than you remembered — cluttered with him and his everyday things, and the density of it overwhelmed you. A notebook was thrown at the carpet at your feet, opened to reveal his meticulous handwriting, always in black tint pens and telling something you couldn’t comprehend about marine science or whatever subject biology students had.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding, and when you breathed in, it too, was filled with him, his citrus perfume, and the faint scent of tobacco that you hoped was still from one of his roommates and not his.

“Have you eaten?” Sunghoon asked.

“No, not yet,” you said.

“I thought about stopping at that café,” he said, fingers thumping against the wheel. “The one we stopped when we first came to Seoul.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

┈┈┈┈

Just off the interstate, Daon lived almost like a secret in the middle of the old factories and massive warehouses. Although the café had been running for years, the exterior remained with the same brownstone facade, black roof, and matching glass panels, blending almost imperceptibly with the rest of the neighborhood buildings, but maybe it had been the owner’s intention.

The sign itself had a bit of a marvel in that it was only a black plating with the name written in a Palatino font. And nothing — absolutely nothing, advised it was a café.

You couldn’t remember how Sunghoon found it. Perhaps it had been lucky, maybe it had been a bit of destiny, yet you loved the place.

As soon as you stepped inside, the smell of coffee surrounded the air around you, wiping the harsh exterior with a single intake. The wooden tables lined against the walls, crammed side by side to make room for the amount of plants and crafts scattered throughout the place.

It was a secret — perhaps, a secret within a secret.

Sunghoon trailed behind you to the counter, looking over your shoulder as you fumbled through the menu, and when you were about to turn the page from the drinks to the pancakes, his hand met yours.

“I haven’t finished,” he said, voice winding into your hair. His breath was warm against your exposed shoulders and suddenly, everything on you focused on his presence close behind you. His breath brushed against your ears, and his hand held onto yours, a few seconds more than it was necessary every and each page as if he was reluctant to let it go.

Your skin protested as Sunghoon turned to the waitress, tingling with the sudden coldness, and you had to give yourself a moment before turning too.

“Hey, lovelies. What can I get for you?” the waitress asked. She was in her early fifties, with gray sideburns and a smile on her cherry-tinted lips that made strangers feel like family and perhaps it was the only reason you didn’t falter there.

You couldn’t decide on a smoothie, so Sunghoon ordered both — strawberry and mango. And when he suggested the strawberry walnut tartlet, and you refused, his eyebrows went up beneath his bangs.

“It was your favorite,” he remembered.

“It’s alright,” you said, and Sunghoon hesitated, licking his lips as he looked from the waitress to you a few times.

“Go on and grab a table,” he said then, subtly cleaning his throat “I will pay for the order.”

“I should pay my part.”

“Buy me something in Uljin,” he said.

You looked up at him, and he smiled. The words had left his lips as nothing, but still — they carried a real meaning. Sunghoon wanted to do something together in Uljin, and how could it be so odd yet familiar at the same time.

For a moment, you stood quiet, a furrow of uncertainty pressed between your brows before you nodded, walking to an empty table.

You wondered if it would be awkward if the silence would stretch on too long, and the spaces between words would be filled with awkwardness. But when Sunghoon came after and took the chair in front of you, he was already asking about your classes and Haneul. He asked about the teacher you hated and the project you had even forgotten you had done last winter until he mentioned it. You breathed a little easier at that and asked about his classes and his roommates — Heeseung, Jake, and the younger guy you couldn’t remember the name of.

“Riki,” Sunghoon remembered. “Or mini Jake, whatever you prefer.”

“Except for the part that he is way taller than Jake.”

“Don’t say that,” he asked, but there was a bite of a smile on his lips. “Jake will be hurt.”

The waitress came with your order then, pulling the plates perfectly in front of each of you. You both slid your plates to the center of the table simultaneously and without a single question, arranging them in a way that would allow you to share, just as you had done so many times when you were younger.

And when the silence appeared for the first time between a bite and another, you finally mustered up the courage to ask what you had been wondering about all along.

“Why did you decide to go back this time?” you asked.

“I just — I just felt like it was the right thing, I have been away for too long,” he said, but there was a note in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

It was nearing ten o’clock, and the world was a little more alive. The sun was coming hefty through the windows of the café, bathing over the two of you. It caught on the glass vase in the middle of the table, scattering shafts of light everywhere. Sunghoon opened his palm to it and then closed, almost as if he could catch the light with his bare hands, and you felt the strange desire to study his face in detail, searching for — something, although you weren’t sure what something would be.

Sunghoon didn’t seem to have changed much throughout the year. Although his skin had lost the last remains of Uljin’s sun and he’d grown his hair out, the tips hanging down past his ear in a way you had never seen before, he was the Sunghoon you always remembered — freckled cheeks and dark strands boyish as it was pretty.

His eyebrows furrowed at something, and you wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had shared secrets, and suddenly, the question got stuck in your mouth — that easy thread within both of you breaking once again.

The waitress returned, carrying a piece of the tartlet you had refused. For a moment, you thought Sunghoon might have ordered it for himself, but she put it in front of you, clicking her tongue against her cherry-tinted lips and calling you “such a cute couple” before she left.

“Did you order it for me?” you asked. Sunghoon nodded his head affirmatively.

“Thank you, Hoon, but I haven’t ordered it because they use walnut pieces. I found out I am allergic to it,” you said, the words trailing out in a breath. “I came here with Jongseong when he drove me to Uljin last summer, and I had the same stretches I did with you. He thought it was strange and took me to a hospital later. We did a few blood tests, and it came out that I am allergic to walnuts—”

You continued talking, but something had settled inside of Sunghoon. Strong enough to make him dizzy, great enough to ache.

The problem itself wasn’t that you had shared this place with your boyfriend but that Sunghoon finally had noticed how your life had kept going without him.

Between one word and another, Sunghoon stood up, desperate to get away, to escape this conversation and all the realization it brought. He made it to the parking lot, somehow finding his Jeep before he bent down. He didn’t hear you walking up behind him, but you were there, making the breeze slightly tender with your sweet perfume.

Neither of you said anything. The echo of the interstate was the only sound for a minute, maybe two, and then Sunghoon sighed, heavy and world-weary as he scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“We have really become strangers, haven’t we?” It had been a question. However, the last two words were spoken so slowly — so humbly. He didn’t want to hear the answer, so you didn’t attempt to give one.

A breeze rushed through the parking lot, scattering the greenish leaves of summer in its wake. You were still kilometers away from Uljin, but you could swear the air already carried that faint brine scent of the seashore.

“I am sorry,” you said. “I could have just eaten it.”

“And have allergy reactions until we arrive home?”

“It would be just minor scratches,” you murmured.

“I don’t care what it is,” he said. “If it’s bad for you or if you simply dislike it, I am not allowing you to take it.”

Sunghoon looked at you, lips parted to say something else, but you were already reaching for him, finding the precise place where his hair had grown above the collar of his t-shirt, and he stopped, mind stuck in the middle of a sentence he would never say. His skin was warm there, already loved by the summer heat, and you could feel his pulse hastily reaching for the tip of your fingers before it came into peace.

“I am sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s alright.”

The motions from there were silent and vaguely awkward. Sunghoon stood up and stepped past you, going to the passenger door to open it for you. He waited until you folded yourself back into the Jeep just like he had done this morning and many other times before. Nonetheless, you couldn’t gather the courage to look at him and thank — not even when he settled himself into the driver’s seat.

Your fingers were still tingling with the memory of his heartbeats against your skin.

Sunghoon paused, his hand hovering over the ignition before he inserted the key and turned it with a firm hand. The Jeep wailed to life, the sound of the engine and the radio filling the air around you.

“Did something else happen through those months?” he asked. “Any other allergies?”

“No — not that I remember,” you replied. “How about you? Anything happened?”

“Not that I remember, but if I do remember something, I will tell.”

“Ok.”

“Ok,” he echoed.

The car fell silent, the radio being the only furor between you as he drove out of the parking lot, but for the first time since the party, neither of you tried to fill it.

┈┈┈┈

Uljin wasn’t your hometown.

Being honest, you didn’t even know the existence of the county until you were ten, sitting at the kitchen counter of your childhood house and listening to your parents telling you they wanted to start fresh, start new — a new clinic somewhere closer to the coast, and then, you were leaving the only life you ever knew by the time summer wittered to autumn.

However, you never sorrowed it. The county had a feeling that could be embedded in any person willing to open their hearts. There was nowhere else like Uljin. The sun seemed to shine softer once you passed through the limits of the county, and the breezes brushed a little lighter. Everything about this part of the world made a little bit more tender.

As soon as Sunghoon drove past the welcoming sign, you rolled your window down, allowing the wind to thread through your fingers as you held your hand out, soft and warm, just like a kiss would be.

Sunghoon sighed, not the heavy and world-weary sigh he had released in the parking lot, but a small, quiet, and ragged sigh, almost as if he had not meant to let it escape. You shifted your gaze to him then, watching as he closed his eyes. The wind caught and mussed his hair — already working to bring the curls you had a long time not seen. And it suddenly occurred to you it was the first time both of you were in Uljin ever since high school.

“Eyes on the streets,” you said, loudly enough to be heard over the wind.

“Yes, let’s not try to cause the first accident in decades.”

Sunghoon drove past the emerald mountains, the greenish field being the only thing spreading beneath the sun until you had reached the main avenue.

Other than the renewal of the ice cream parlor and the opening of a new café, the main avenue was the same as it always had been — the same old stores telling their stories through their facades bleached by too much sun and sea breeze.

The bakery opened the avenue, an inviting display window beckoning anyone closer with crunchy tarts, pieces of bread dusted with sugar, and all the other pastry art. And then came the tiny bookstore and a music school closed and derelict due to the summer months. Laughter rolled everywhere, and you wondered if you should ask Sunghoon to stop, just for a quiet second but he kept heading to the coast — heading home.

Your houses remained unchanging as the rest of the county — two bungalows spared by not even two full meters and bathed in the late june sunlight. When Sunghoon allowed the engine to die, you heard the sea crashing against the shore, the sound resonating with the wind bell your mother kept on the front porch, and all of it whispered the same thing:

“Home,” he said. Back where you both started.

Neither of you needed to knock on your doors. The moment you stepped out of the car, you noticed your mothers and Yeji sitting at the table on the Park’s front porch and sipping on some iced drinks.

Yeji was the first to reach you, her arms coming around your waist as she buried her face in your shoulders. Her hair was still wet from the sea and smelling like salt, a wonderful denotation of how she had spent her Sunday morning.

“You came,” she said.

“I always do.”

“Yes, you are the best sister ever.”

“I am right here, you know?” Sunghoon said.

“Oh, sorry for not including you in our sisterhood, stranger,” Yeji said. However, despite her harsh words, she turned to him, her arms wide and outstretched in an invitation he gladly accepted.

Jiyoung reached for you after, cupping your face between her palms as she took a good look at you. And you took the opportunity to look at her too.

Although Sunghoon always said he looked more like his father, you always defended he also looked uncannily like Jiyoung. It was a fact that Sunghoon had gotten his father’s fair skin and thick eyebrows, but whenever he smiled it was all Jiyoung. The corner of her eyes crinkled, and dimples flirted on her cheeks as she smiled at you.

“How can you get prettier every time I see you?” she asked.

“It’s your eyes, Jiyoung.”

“No sense, darling,” she said. “I bet Jongseong has a lot of problems.”

“Not really.”

“But anyway,” Jiyoung continued, her eyes straying to where her children stayed for a brief second before she moved it back to you. “I am so glad you came. I kept asking Sunghoon how you were doing during the semester, and he always replied ‘Fine’.”

“And she is, isn’t she?” he replied, but it went completely ignored by her.

“We prepared a homecoming lunch,” she told you. “I hope you are not tired from the trip.”

“Not tired enough to refuse your lunch,” you said, immediately stealing another smile from her.

“Let’s come inside then,” Jiyoung said, giving you a tiny squeeze before she abruptly let you go. “Yeji, come help me — Sunghoon, unload the car.”

“Hugs and kisses for her,” Sunghoon murmured. “Unload the car for me.”

“That’s what you earn by never coming home,” his mother screamed from the front porch.

“I came on Christmas!” he screamed back. The information had barely been processed by you before Jiyoung screamed again.

“Almost two years in Seoul, and you only came on one Christmas day!” she said, stepping inside the house, but not before you noticed how the corners of her mouth were still tucked in a teasing smile. And you loved it on them — loved that bickering tenderness only the Parks had.

Your mother approached you then, her arm curling around your waist as she guided you to the front porch.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her accent coming so clipped and low after the previous exchange. “Was everything alright during the trip?”

“We should talk later, but yes, everything was fine,” you confirmed. “Where’s father?”

“Inside with Kwangho,” she said. “And hopefully not burning Jiyoung’s lasagna. She spent the whole morning on it.”

Just like all the houses in the county, the Parks had those open floor plans where the front hall ran into the living room, and the living room ran into the kitchen, and the kitchen ran into a double door that gave access to the back deck. Although you couldn’t see it, you knew the sea was right there — just a few steps away by the way the sun bathed into the house in shafts of white light, illuminating everything from the double door to the front hall.

When you moved to Uljin, you thought that eventually, the scenery would start to fade out of your consciousness — that someday you would wake up no longer amazed by the whiteness of the sand and the immensity of the sea. But it never happened and by now, you doubted it could.

Sunghoon once called it tourist fortes. But you defended that you simply had found a home.

Your father was leaning on the kitchen island together with Kwangho, a cup of his favorite whiskey already hanging in his right hand as he used the other to reach for you, hopping you affectionately beneath his arm and interrupting his conversation with Sunghoon’s father.

“Safe trip?” your father asked.

“With Sunghoon driving?” Kwangho questioned before you could reply. “I bet my son never passed the speed limit. Am I wrong?”

“Absolutely not.”

Sunghoon pushed the front door open, and immediately, the early summer air rushed in, carrying that brine scent of the seashore, and everything smelled like the beach and Jiyoung’s lasagna, still simmering with the warmth of the oven.

He stepped into the house, catching you as you walked to the center of the room. Sometimes, you forgot how tall Sunghoon had gotten until he was standing right in front of you, bottling you in the shadows with his full height and setting a chill on your skin.

“I left your luggage in your front hall,” he said.

“Thank you,” you replied. Sunghoon briefly nodded, before he was gone, further into the house and to where your fathers stood. Differently from you, he was greeted in that manly way. They talked loudly, palms hit shoulders in the middle of half hugs. His father extended him a whiskey cup for a toast, and your nose wrinkled at the exact moment his did. Sunghoon had tried whiskey for the first time at a club near the university campus, his knees brushing against yours at the bar’s counter as he swallowed the amber drink and said it was the worst thing he had tried in his whole life. He had burst out laughing then, and you had laughed with him, your body inclining into his direction, hand on his chest before you had even noticed it, and only when he had brushed the tips of his fingers through the back of your ear did you notice how close you had come.

His gaze encountered yours, and it felt like the months that had passed hung suspended in the fine particles of air.

Your mother passed by you, reaching for the dining table with plates and cutlery pulled in her hands. You used the excuse to help her and turned your back on him, your whole body warmer by the memory.

“Oh, do not bother yourself with it,” your mother said. “Bring a stool from the kitchen instead. We are minus a seat.”

“Is someone else coming?”

“Someone else came,” she whispered, her words barely audible beneath all the chaos of the room. And you knew by the way she had leaned to your side that whatever she was telling you, she wasn’t supposed to. “Until Friday, Sunghoon said he wasn’t coming home. Jiyoung only found out he was coming today when you called a few hours ago — she is fuming.”

“But he told me-”

“The stool,” your mother said abruptly. You looked up at her, ready to question what caused her sudden change in tone. But you noticed Sunghoon approaching from a distance, and you allowed the question to slip and slide with a single inhale.

“I have been banished from the kitchen. Maybe I am more helpful here?” Sunghoon asked your mother.

“Of course, Sunghoon. I will put the plates, and you put the cutlery,” she said. “And darling-”

“The stool, I am on it,” you said.

You brought the stool as Jiyoung set the lasagna in the center of the table, followed by Yeji and the blend of salad she had seen somewhere online last summer and turned into her signature on dining reunions. And before any discussion was made, the seven of you crowded around the table that initially was meant for four.

“Are you free tomorrow afternoon?” Yeji asked, leaning in to whisper the question to you. You didn’t think it would make any difference at all. So many things were happening that you doubted anyone would notice she was sharing secrets with you. At the other side of the table, your father opened the first two bottles of wine, and your mother poured, acquiring a comment from Kwangho, something you didn’t quite catch, but it made all of them burst into a laugh, the sound rolling through the ceiling.

“I am,” you said. “Why?”

“I would need your help — I have been asked on a date,” she confessed, earning a playful gasp from you.

“What are you both conspiring about?” Sunghoon called out. Although his words had been accusatory, you sensed a tease in his tone.

You didn’t notice he had taken the seat by your side until he was leaning in too, both of the Parks siblings scents blending your lungs. Citrus all together with the salty scent of the sea.

“Girl’s stuff,” you said at the same time Yeji declared it was nothing. Your voices piled over each other, and you wished you had said nothing at all. But Sunghoon glanced up at you, and if anything, he smiled and straightened himself back to his seat, promptly accepting the salad his mother was offering.

“I will call you,” Yeji said, her voice barely audibly before she straightened herself too.

Nothing really happened between the salad and the main course. Your father talked about business with Kwangho, and your mother discussed something Jiyoung had heard on the main avenue. Yeji complained about school, and it was so familiar and timeworn by the amount of Sundays you had spent like this — so pleasant that you didn’t notice Jiyoung was requiring your attention until Sunghoon’s pinched at the tip of your fingers.

“How’s things with your boyfriend?” Jiyoung asked. “Jongseong, right? Is he fine? I thought he would come this summer as well.”

“Oh, Jongseong is fine,” you said, subtly cleaning your throat. There was no way you could escape it this time. “But we — we actually have broken up.”

The impact of your words was instantaneous.

In your peripheral, you saw your parents looking at each other, a silent conversation going through with just a raise of your father’s eyebrow. Jiyoung and Yeji hung with their lips slightly parted in surprise, one being the perfect reflection of the other. Even Kwangho gasped, a mess of words that sounded much like “the convertible guy?” but it was Sunghoon’s surprised question that caught everyone’s attention.

“You what?” he demanded.

“You didn’t know?” Yeji asked.

“I don’t think I have told anyone aside from my roommate,” you said.

“But you know what? That’s a good thing,” Sunghoon said. “That guy was just too dumb to realize what he got.”

The words hover steadily and straightforwardly, without a single trace of anything held back. He didn’t even seem to notice the utter silence he had induced. Usually, the house would have been a flurry of activities, glasses being put on the table with audible clicks, dishes being cleared, and two parallel conversations going on beneath the main topic. There would be no room for a single hitch of breath. But now, the soft playlist Yeji put on the wireless speaker was the only sound heard, and in the sudden stillness, Sunghoon’s words echoed through your body, growing heat into your cheeks.

“Well, I agree with Sunghoon,” your father said, raising a cup of whiskey to his lips. “I never liked that guy.”

“Gosh love,” your mother hissed.

“Was it the one with the convertible?” Kwangho asked again, this time directing it to your father in the hope of being answered.

“Yes,” your father replied.

“No way,” Kwangho said, at the exact moment Yeji screamed at your side.

“Exactly!” she said, “She doesn’t fit convertible car guys.”

“What do I fit then?” you asked.

Yeji opened her mouth to respond, but before she could even articulate the words, they stuttered and stammered, preferring to stay on her tongue. She turned her attention to Sunghoon then, silently asking for his help, but if anything, he shook his head, unable to do anything further.

He would never admit how his heart was pounding in his chest.

“You know what? We forgot to toast,” Jiyoung said, already raising her wine glass. “To their return?”

“What else?” your mother asked.

“Summer,” Yeji suggested.

┈┈┈┈

You had known what would come next, but still, it seemed to come too fast.

As you followed your parents out of the Parks front porch, Sunghoon reached for you, his fingers slightly curling around your bare wrist to catch your attention.

You glanced up at him, watching as patches of sunlight danced over his shoulders, over the striking features of his face. His dark hair almost looked gold beneath the late sunlight. And there was something so humble and awed in the way he stood, something so familiar and known that you only could nod when he asked if you wanted to go to the beach.

Sunghoon led you between the two houses, the air warm and trapped between the walls before it opened up to the beach, and the sunset spilling across the waves in shafts of pinky peach, and tangerine. You couldn’t help but sigh at the view, an appreciation that came from your bare heart. Sunghoon raised his head at the sound of you, but instead of following your gaze, he turned to you.

“Here,” he whispered, extending his hand so he could help you through the small climbdown. The white sand that almost seemed the color of rose quartz beneath the setting sun slipping under your shoes.

Sunghoon gently released your hand as the sand spread flatly, giving you the freedom to decide whether you wanted to accompany him closer to the sea or not.

Guilelessly, you chose to follow him, stopping far enough for the water to not sprint on your shoes.

Two years ago, you both had stood in this exact place, making a promise neither of you knew how to keep. And as you looked back it seemed a lifetime since you both had been there — it seemed like no time at all.

“I missed this place,” he said, his voice coming so low, you barely could hear him through the sound of the sea waves.

“It always has been here,” you reminded him. But Sunghoon didn’t reply — he didn’t even look at you, his eyes remaining on the sea instead.

“It was lonely without you here,” you said then. You could feel the emotions rising in your throat, your doubts threatening to stammer the word away. But perhaps because you were in Uljin, and things were always easier there, perhaps because the night was approaching, and the memory of this felt like it could disappear together with the sunlight, you allowed them to come and slip through.

“I understood you not coming home on the first Christmas because of the extra class, but last summer when you didn’t appear to pick me up at the dorms — I couldn’t really comprehend why you wouldn’t come,”

“When I called you just said you decided to stay, and if it wasn’t for Jongseong offering to drive me here, I don’t know what I would have done,” you admitted. “I waited for you until the last minute, you know? Luggage in hands and everything. But it was the day I realized that maybe we were no longer who we were used to be.”

“It’s just — it always had been you and me against the world, Hoon, but suddenly it was just me,” you said. “I kept waking up in the morning and feeling like I was missing something, I knew that there was something wrong, and then, I remembered, I didn’t have my best friend anymore.”

Sunghoon opened his mouth — his lips parting as if he was about to say something, and you braced yourself for a confession, a reluctant truth, some explanation for the mess you both became throughout the past year and a half. But instead, he only seized a shuddering breath, his own doubts silencing him.

He stayed like this for a moment, maybe two, looking down at his own hands as if he was trying to sort his thoughts and you turned your gaze toward the sea.

“When we moved to Seoul, I couldn’t sleep because of how noisy the city was,” he said. “We can always hear the echoes of the roads through the house, the train line, the baseball team training until late hours.”

You weren’t sure why he chose to tell you about his insomnia problems, especially given it was something you already knew. But there was a tone in the way his words came through that told you it was the confession.

“Then I called you one night,” he continued. “And the moment I heard your voice I felt like I was here — exactly here.”

You smiled, heart softening at his admission. It was exactly how you felt when you heard his voice. The softest hello teeny after a long day at the university, and the I am coming over although he could never pass through your dorm’s door and you could never leave because of the strict rules. But he would come anyway, parking the Jeep just by your window’s sight and talking until it was easy to breathe again.

“I missed you terribly,” Sunghoon continued. “I know I am the one who fucked up when I started drifting away and canceling our plans. I know I was the one who pulled us apart last summer and I am so sorry.”

“I never meant to turn into a stranger, you were still my best friend,” he said, his voice quieted then to something less than a whisper. “You are still my best friend.”

Sunghoon had hurt you, it was an undeniable truth, and perhaps there was a part of you that would never manage to forget it. But he also had been with you for so long that you couldn’t remember if ever there was a you that didn’t know him. He was your history, and it was so hard to throw history away. It was almost as if you were throwing away a part of yourself.

You looked up at him, but his eyes were already on you, as if he had never looked away.

The first time you ever promised to love Sunghoon was a mystery for you. Someday, you only knew that it had happened, and you had passed through years already loving him. And maybe — maybe you could never recreate that moment exactly, go back and discover when your heart first decided it would give a piece of it to Sunghoon, but you felt like this night was a living echo of it.

When he reached out, gently pulling his hand towards you. You felt a tiny epiphany that you were giving a piece of your heart to him again.

His fingers spread as if he was just waiting for you to pull your hand in his and fill the small gaps in between, and so you did. It was a small gesture, something that you both were so used to, but it felt more meaningful than ever.

“I am sorry,” he whispered.

“I am sorry too,” you said, your tone coming as soft as his. You weren’t sure why you were whispering to each other. But you liked it, the intimacy of the moment.

He used your connected hands to bring you closer to him and pull you against his chest. He was warm beneath the cotton of his clothes, all his body already loved by the summer sun as he caught you around the waist, lifting you off your feet.

Sunghoon laughed then, only once, but his eyes remained in the shape, unable to conceal his pure and unfiltered happiness as he carried you through the centimeters that separated you from the sea. Just when you thought he wouldn’t drop you, he did, the waves drenching your jeans up to your thighs.

“You are a pig, Park Sunghoon,” you gasped, kicking water on him, but if anything, Sunghoon laughed some more, his dimples appearing as he threw his head back and allowed the sound to catch and spread across the breeze.

His happiness was so contagious that you couldn’t help but laugh too. And when it died from your chest, you felt something else taking the space — something so wonderfully light and warm. You wished you could hold it like a breath, keep it in to whenever you felt like faltering.

┈┈┈┈

As the afternoon shadows grew longer, Sunghoon gestured towards the back deck of your house. And as you followed him, the sound of the sea grew louder and more distinct, the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore stealing the sound of your footsteps.

“About Jisung-” Sunghoon suddenly said.

“Jongseong,” you corrected.

“Whatever,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper in the breeze. “I am sorry, I had no idea you had broken up.”

“I think I have told no one aside from Haneul, being honest, and he was wonderful, but-” you stopped, immediately wishing you could swallow the last word.

“But?” he echoed.

“It couldn’t work.”

Sunghoon acknowledged your statement with a slow, deliberate nod, his eyes momentarily unfocused before he moved his attention back to the beach. You didn’t say it wasn’t working, or it didn’t work. It had been the future already pressed into the present, and although he wanted to question it, he didn’t.

“You should get inside,” he said. “The breeze is starting to pick.”

“I guess I will see you around,” you said.

“Yes, of course.”

“Of course,” you echoed, and he wished he could hold time — prevent it from ticking forward as he kept both of you on this afternoon through the sheer force of his will. However, you took the knob, swirling your family’s back door open.

“Night, teeny,” he said as simply as that — two syllables falling from his tongue, but the old nickname tingled through your body, making heat grow into your cheeks.

“Good night, Hoon,” you whispered.

He sighed with the click of the door, an almost imperceptive sound, but it reverberated with him as he made the way back through your stairs, kicking mounts of sand and going back into his house.

Yeji stood in the middle of the kitchen, barefoot and as braced as a fifteen years old girl could look.

“Park Sunghoon,” she started, hands coming to her hips.

“Park Yeji,” he said, mocking her posture by mirroring it.

“You said you weren’t coming this summer.”

“I decided to come last minute,” he admitted

“Last minute as?”

“Yesterday morning?” he said. It had been an affirmation, but the way his voice raised in embarrassment subtly turned the period into a question mark.

“Would it be because of Y/N?” Yeji asked.

“You know what? I think it’s time for you to go to bed, Yeji,” he answered instead.

┈┈┈┈

When you left the shower, the night had already settled outside. The peace and silence only Uljin seemed to have already on its full leverage.

You found your mother sitting at her usual place on the back deck. Her chair facing the sea, and a book balanced on her knees. She wasn’t a keen reader, but she had a habit of trying, and you admired her for it.

“Seems like I lost a lot during those past weeks,” she said as soon as she caught sight of you.

The wind had enmeshed, but the floor was still warm with the memory of the sun beneath your feet as you walked closer and took the seat next to her, allowing yourself a brief second before you replied.

“I only agreed to come with Sunghoon yesterday.”

“It was indeed surprising when you called saying you were in the car with Sunghoon,” your mother said. “Especially after he left you waiting with luggage in hands last summer — but I meant Jongseong. You didn’t tell me you have broken up with him.”

“I kept forgetting.”

“That you have broken up?”

“No — that it’s something important enough to talk about,” you admitted. “I feel terrible admitting it, but I didn’t feel anything when we broke up, so I never remembered to tell it over the phone.”

“Your dummy,” your mother said, the words coming so affectionately that you barely noticed she had just scolded you. The chiding softened by the kindness in her voice. “You have to be in love for a breakup to hurt. I know you cared for Jongseong, but you have never been in love with him although you tried to.”

She did nothing to make her words easier to accept this time and your breath caught audibly with the sudden harshness of it, the salty air heavily setting on your lungs.

“Jongseong said almost the same thing,” you whispered. “He said I was always searching for Sunghoon’s ghost.”

“And were you?” she asked. You looked back at her, lips parted and tongue already rolling into a reply, but the words met an impasse in your mind, and you failed to.

Your mother sighed then, reaching for your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I wish Sunghoon knew,” she said.

Although it had been Yeji who had called you on the following day, Sunghoon was the one standing at their deck’s stairs waiting for you, barefoot, and with only a pair of washed jeans and a white t-shirt completing his attire for the day.

You stared at him, more conspicuous for the fact that you tried to be inconspicuous about it. Ever since you both had moved to Seoul, it had been rare to see Sunghoon in anything that wasn’t dress pants, and button-down shirts, and the old familiarity of it pierced you.

It was a bright day, the sky a pale blue painting above the sea, and the hefty sunlight illuminated his features with such a soft glow.

You could swear he had turned younger.

“Yeji is going on a date,” he said as soon as you stepped closer enough. “Did you know about it?”

You stopped, feeling a little lurch at that. The idea of lying seemed to attempt you. It would be so easy to simply say no — so easily to pretend you didn’t know why Yeji had called you. However, you had allowed the question to hang in for too long, and when you noticed, it was already too late to do so.

Sunghoon looked at you — really looked at you, his eyes narrowing as his jaw followed the same tensing motion. At first, you thought he was merely annoyed, but it suddenly occurred to you that he was feeling uneasy. In the middle of your silence, his finger tapped against his thighs. It could have been an insubstantial change to anyone else, but you knew Park Sunghoon all too well.

“Hoon,” you started. Although you didn’t know the words that would follow. Nothing sounded like something Sunghoon would be pleased to hear. And before you could think it through, Yeji appeared at the back door, a mug in her hands, and the most peaceful expression someone had ever moved towards you.

“Don’t worry about him,” she said. “He has been like this the whole morning, just come to my room.”

Yeji vanished almost as fast as she appeared, leaving you no option but to follow her ruling. You could feel Sunghoon trailing closely behind you as you entered the house and climbed up the stairs.

For a moment, Yeji said nothing about her brother’s following you into her room, the rotating fan being the only sound between the three of you, but then, she reached for a pillow and threw it, aiming at Sunghoon’s head.

He caught it in the air before he sat on the floor.

“Go on, girls,” he said. “I won’t bother.”

And he didn’t. Aside from occasional huffs, Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He remained silent throughout the whole time you helped Yeji with her clothes and makeup. And only when she was checking the final result in the mirror, he spoke.

“Where is the mysterious boy taking you?” he asked.

“I am not telling you.”

“I think it’s a valid question, Yeji,” you said. “We should at least know where you are going.”

“The open-air cinema at the southern beach,” she said, dramatically rolling her eyes. The answer had been for you, but her reaction was entirely for her brother.

“Happy?” she asked.

“Not really,” he replied, which meant he was — at least, a little bit.

The house’s bell rang, and Yeji sprinted at the echo of it, her bare feet pounding against the hardwood floor as she raced down the stairs.

You had prepared yourself to hold Sunghoon, but differently from what you expected, he remained still, legs outstretched with a deliberate calmness.

The front door was opened and then closed again, and only then did he move, looking up at you, a bite of a smile spreading on his lips before he finally stood up.

“Let’s go,” Sunghoon said, reaching for the pillow his sister had thrown at him and then one of her folded blankets, shoving both items beneath his arms.

“Where?”

“Suddenly, I feel like watching a movie at the beach.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he said. “Let’s go, teeny.”

┈┈┈┈

The southern beach was bustling in a way you had never seen before. Colorful blankets had been spread all over the white sand, and the air was thick with the scent of caramel popcorn, which was such an uncharacteristic scent for the Gyeongsang beaches. Yet the afternoon was slowly reaching the orange hours of sunset, the sky turning into a blend of orange and pink against the clouds. Everything about it being so carelessly beautiful — you knew it was something only the county could do.

You sat down on the just-spread blanket, legs outstretched and drenched in sunlight as you leaned your head back, looking up at Sunghoon. Although he stood quietly on the sand, his fingers tapped absently against his thighs, the gesture somehow disconcerting and otherworldly indicative of the persistence of his uneasiness, and a twinge of concern settled over you.

“Hoon,” you called.

He flinched, his gaze darting towards you, but if anything he took your hand as you extended it to him, palm up and spread in an invitation that required no words. He slowly flung himself down on the blanket with you, his head on your lap and his body sprawled out to the remaining sunlight.

Sunghoon had always been beautiful, a storybook prince, your mother had once conveyed within shared whispers when you were fifteen. And although he was older now, he was still the same. His dark hair swept across his forehead tenderly and you brushed it back, fingertips pressed against his scalp ever so lightly before you tucked it behind his ear. He shivered despite the warmth of the day, his whole body reacting solely to the sensation of your fingers on him.

“Yeji is fifteen,” you managed to say. “It’s time for her to go on dates.”

“We didn’t go on dates when we were fifteen,” he debated.

“Of course, we were so glued to each other that no one wanted to come between us,” you said. “Well, I mean, except for some girls from your fan club — but back to the point, everyone else in our class was going on dates.”

Sunghoon fell quiet at that. The rustling of the other moviegoers being the only furor between both of you. Everywhere voices rose and fell, but the words themselves had been reduced to the echo of the sea waves.

You traced the back of his ear, a single finger following its curve and his eyes fluttered — as defenseless as he could be.

“I miss that time,” he confessed, but the words had left his lips so softly that if you weren’t paying close attention to him, you would believe it was just another wave crashing against the shore.

You leaned over him, casting him in a shadow. Your hair tickled over his cheeks and he went very — very still, a breath stuck into his lungs, but whatever you were going to say was interrupted.

“Is it Park Sunghoon and his teeny?”

You straightened yourself back, searching for the source of the voice, but Sunghoon didn’t immediately do the same. You had allowed the sun to bathe him again. And suddenly, it was too warm there, the summer air pressing firmly against his skin and making him dizzy.

“It is Park Sunghoon and his teeny.”

Although it had already been two years, Daeyeol didn’t seem to have changed from high school time. Your ex-classmate still bleached his hair into the impossible tone of white, and his infamous leather jacket hung above his tank top even though it was one of the warmest months of the year.

Sunghoon met your gaze and held it, a silent conversation happening within the seconds Daeyeol took to approach both of you.

“Daeyeol,” Sunghoon called, sitting back up.

“First of all, tell me, are you guys dating already?” he asked. It took you a heartbeat longer to make sense of what he had said, but when you did, you immediately could feel the heat growing into your cheeks.

“We are just friends,” you said, looking at Sunghoon, waiting for him to confirm your statement, but this time, he didn’t return your gaze. His eyes still focused on Daeyeol as his jaw clenched for a second, barely the length it takes to draw a breath.

“Too bad,” Daeyeol said. “We made a few bets on the graduation party, and I bet you both would be together within a year.”

“But anyway, I didn’t know you both were back in town. I am throwing a party at my new apartment on Saturday,” he continued. “I am inviting the whole class, and of course, it includes you both.”

Daeyeol made a theatrical turn to leave, ankles almost digging in the white sand, but then, he stopped, looking at Sunghoon through his shoulders. Only then did you notice the joint carelessly placed behind his ear.

He really didn’t change.

“Still with the same phone number, Sunghoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Great, I will send you the address.”

“It was-” you started.

“Unexpected?” Sunghoon supplied. “Strange?”

You nodded a little bit too eagerly to the alternatives, which earned a laugh from him. The sound had been so open and effortless — you found a smile rising to your lips as you watched him flange back on the blanket and turn his focus to the sky. The first stars had already begun to appear, tiny flecks softly mingling the sunset and reflecting on his eyes.

“You are right about Yeji,” he said. “She is grown up enough to commit her own mistake, and I will just be here to say, “I told you, men are all wolves”.”

“Sunghoon!”

“Also, should we go to Daeyeol’s party?” he asked, completely ignoring your protest.

“I don’t go to parties anymore.”

“I don’t go to parties anymore,” he mocked, changing his accent so he could clip the end of the words and steal their last syllable exactly like you. “I have seen you on one just three days ago.”

“Because it was Haneul’s last university party,” you retorted.

“Ah, c’mon,” he said. “I miss going to parties with you.”

It was three minutes to seven in the evening when Sunghoon appeared at your front door. His university jersey above a white t-shirt and black dress pants on.

You opened your mouth, tongue already rolling onto the tease he just wanted to brag about having being accepted at a university in Seoul, but before you could do so, you heard the house phone ringing in the kitchen. Your mother gasped as she answered it, something initially incoherent, but then she directed it to you.

“Darling, the phone is for you,” she said.

You turned around, feeling the weight of Sunghoon’s gaze as you stepped further into the house and to the kitchen.

“Who’s that?” you asked, hauling your high heels from one hand to another to accept the headset. You couldn’t remember a soul that had your house’s phone number much less that would call on a Saturday night. But instead of coming up with an answer, your mother only shook her head, her eyes following the path to where Sunghoon stood almost guiltily.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, hi — it’s Jongseong,” he said as if you wouldn’t recognize his voice after months of dating. “Sorry, for calling at your house, but you didn’t pick up your phone.”

“I wasn’t- I wasn’t with my phone throughout the afternoon.”

“Sorry,” he said again.

“It’s alright, something happened?”

“No, it’s just that I am in Gyeongsang, my grandmother lives here too-”

“Pohang. We spent Christmas there, I remember.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice coming a bit stuck as if he had half held his breath. “I am driving back to Seoul on the first week of august, and I was thinking that maybe — maybe we could meet up?”

You looked behind and noticed that Sunghoon was still standing at your door. However, he had turned around, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his jacket as he gazed toward your family’s front garden with an attention too unpretentious to be unpretentious.

Sunghoon was interested in who might be on the phone, he only didn’t want you to know it.

“I-” you tried, turning your gaze away. But the word met an impasse between your mind and your tongue and you couldn’t find the strength to say no.

But being fair, you never found the strength to say no.

“Lunch, or just coffee — anything you feel comfortable with,” Jongseong said, and he sounded like he always did. He was barely twenty, but he had that easy cadence in his voice, the slow precision of someone who knew the weight of his being. He blamed his father, you thought he was just born different, but you had been together for a year and had known each other for another six months, and you came to learn that behind all of this, he was insecure.

You almost could picture him at the other end of the line: his bashful smile, almost like he was apologizing for even considering it, and you were suddenly back at the university campus a year and something ago, sitting in the garden as he asked you on a date for the very first time.

It was spring back then, but winter had been lingering in, turning his cheeks pink and fogging the glasses you didn’t even know he used.

“Alright.”

“I will message you once I settle the day,” he said.

“Alright.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” he said.

Jongseong hung up so softly, it took another second for you to notice he did and another one to let go of it before you walked back to where Sunghoon stood.

You placed the high heels on the floor, avoiding Sunghoon’s gaze, but before you could do anything he was already kneeling in front of you, filling in your vision as he took one of your ankles in his hands and helped you put on your heels.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, the word hacking out of you. Sunghoon looked up at you then, and you knew he had heard the uneasiness in your voice too, but if anything he nodded at you, moving to your other ankle at the same time, a breeze picked up, chiming your mother’s wind bell, and filling the settling silence with a tangle of glass notes.

Sunghoon stood up, bottling you in the shadows with his full height. You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you concentrated instead on his shoulders, and how his collar didn’t lay flat against his skin because of his collarbones.

“Ready to have a blast?” he asked.

┈┈┈┈

The ride to Daeyeol’s apartment complex had taken twenty minutes, maybe twenty-five. But as you left the car, it felt like you had gone a hundred thousand kilometers away from Uljin.

It wasn’t just that the breezes no longer carried the brine scent of the seashore or that the houses hadn’t been built in the bungalow style you were used to. But, compared to the coastal part of Gyeongsang, everything here seemed new and expensive.

You once had heard that Daeyeol was the heir of a big retail chain, the sheer number of stores under his family ownership being so high that people stopped trying to hold them accountable when it had expanded to America.

And perhaps he was, but you still did not care about knowing.

Sunghoon took your hand, easily sliding his palm against yours and intertwining your fingers as he guided you through the street and closer to the complex.

As you approached the apartment, the sound of music hit you like a wave, the volume so loud and blaring. You wondered how none of his neighbors had filed a complaint yet.

“I bet he intimidated his neighbors to not file a complaint,” Sunghoon said.

You weren’t sure if you had vocalized your wonders or if Sunghoon had the same thought as you, but either way, it had been amusing.

“I bet he bribed them, it is more Daeyeol’s style,” you replied, stealing a laugh from Sunghoon.

“Or he convinced all his neighbors to come.”

“Fine, that’s Daeyeol’s style.”

As Sunghoon looked down at you, the corners of his lips quirked upwards, and his eyes crinkled. The sound of his laughter still lingered in the air, filling the space between you both with a warm and contagious fuel. He seemed so happy nowadays. You couldn’t help but smile in response, feeling a sense of ease wash over you by simply being with him.

“Let’s go,” he said.

There was no point in knocking if no one could listen, so Sunghoon only pulled the front door open and stepped inside. The mossy scent of the woods immediately being overtaken by tequila, and too many damp skins, weed, and the cheap beer from the forgotten cups scattered through the few pieces of furniture he held.

You took in a breath, wishing it would fill you so you wouldn’t need to breathe on the intoxicated air ever again.

“Sunghoon and his teeny!” Daeyeol screamed. But whatever came after had been only for Sunghoon, the furor of the place engulfing his voice before you could clasp it.

Daeyeol pointed at the end of the corridor, and you followed it, catching the makeshift bar before your ex-classmate stepped in front of your view, giving you only a wink and turning his attention entirely on something else.

“Do you want a drink?” Sunghoon asked, shouting in your ear. The vibration of his voice scattered shivers throughout your spine.

You nodded, and he moved through the apartment as people stopped you, greeting both of you with an acknowledgment you couldn’t return. Your mind was always stuck between families’ names and faces you were sure you could recognize if Sunghoon hadn’t pushed further so soon.

He only eased up when he reached the makeshift bar. The options were tequila, beer, soju, and a great variation of flavored vodka.

You thought of asking for the tequila just to see the surprise on his face because you always had gone for the sweet and Sunghoon knew it. Actually, he had been the first one to point this fact out, so instead, your finger immediately followed the patch to the flavored vodkas, and he caught two cups, extending one to you, and taking the other.

Sunghoon emptied the cup with a quick and practiced movement of his wrist before he smashed it on the table.

You laughed then, taken aback at his sudden outburst as you followed suit. The process was repeated enough times for the alcohol to make its effect, and your thoughts began to slur.

The song changed then, almost too loud to be fully understood, but you recognize it, an old pop song which you didn’t truly know the name of, yet it played so many times on the radio and at parties for you to not know at least the idea of the lyrics. Sunghoon recognized it, too.

You weren’t sure if you had been the one to reach for Sunghoon first or if he had been the one to reach for you. But your hand was on his as he pushed back through the apartment, finding the dance floor. And as the song hit the chorus, his hands were on your waist, bringing you closer to him and swinging you to the song.

Sunghoon was being careless in a way that made your whole body tingle, dizzy in alcohol and happiness, tripping all over.

You shouted the lyrics to him, and he shouted the lyrics back to you. And suddenly, both of you were laughing senselessly as if it was the only thing you ever thought about doing — like it could have been just the two of you in the world.

You were close — too close. Sunghoon had to look down to find your gaze, and when he did, you felt his breath against your mouth, the softest gust of warm air against your lips. The seconds seemed to melt together, and you couldn’t tell how long you had been breathing on each other when his fingers spread at the side of your neck, thumb seizing for your cheek as he angled you up to him. You were already warm from the sticky air and dancing, but you could swear you grew even warmer when he closed his eyes and came closer, brushing his nose on yours.

Your every sense was acutely aware of his proximity. You could feel the firmness of his chest pressing against yours, and the steady rhythm of his breath. Sunghoon was all around you, all inside of you, the scent of his citrus perfume and the Uljin breezes laboriously overtaking the intoxicated air. And you trembled with the thought, a little chill settling through your skin despite the warmth of the place.

But then, he clenched his jaw, brows knitted together as if something was suddenly hurting him, and before you could ask what happened, he moved, abruptly and all at once stepping back.

“Let’s go,” he said.

And the moment slipped through — like a dream you wake up to hastily from. By the time his hand reached for you, fingers finding the slots between yours and guiding you through the mess of bodies, you wondered if you truly almost had kissed your best friend.

“Doesn’t this type of place usually have fire escapes for emergencies?” he yelled.

“I think so,” you yelled back. “Are we in an emergency?”

The question seemed to have taken Sunghoon anew because he looked at you, lips parted in a retort that wasn’t coming fast enough.

“Yes,” he exhaled in the end. “The smell of weed is making me sick, and it’s too warm in here.”

Sunghoon reached for a window in the back wall, shoving it open. A cool breeze rushed in and caressed your skin, tingling it as you watched him jump out onto the fire escape. His figure momentarily silhouetted against the backdrop of the street lights.

He held his hand out to you, helping you jump through the window frame. His hands were firm on yours even as you landed on the stairs. The sun had long set, the world settling hazy and dark, lavender clouds high up in the sky, but the breeze was calm that night, and the heat was still lingering, making the air heavy and all summer-made.

You followed Sunghoon through the stairs and away from Daeyeol’s apartment, or rather, he followed you, standing tall behind you, and always within reach. He had an open hand just hovering by your side as if he was ready to catch you if you tripped over because of your poor choice of shoes.

The rooftop was empty. No lawn chair or anything that would be expected for a place like this. If anything, someone had abandoned a beer can there, what had remained of the alcohol used to extinguish a cigarette.

“I am so tired,” you said, lying down on the rooftop. The shingles were warm beneath the thin material of your dress, and you almost sighed with the memory of the afternoon sun against your skin.

Sunghoon took his jacket off, putting it above your legs before he lay down too, coming down beside you. You rolled onto your side to look at him, and he did the same.

“Am I getting old already?” you asked, immediately stealing a laugh from him. It had been a hardly there sound, but you could taste the vodka on his breath, feel the bitter taste on your tongue although you weren’t even sure when you had wandered that close again.

“Definitely, but when was the last time you have been to a party and enjoyed it like this?”

“I think it was during the winter last year,” you said. “With you still.”

“We used to go stupid every night,” he said.

“What a tragedy.”

“And then you started dating Jongsuk-,”

“Jongseong,” you corrected, but he continued as if you had never spoken, rolling onto his back and turning his attention to the sky.

“And stopped going to parties.”

“No!”

“Yes, when you started dating him, you stopped going to parties.”

“Don’t mix up things like that,” you argued. “You started dating the whole university campus, and I had no one to stay with during the parties so obviously I stopped going, but when I started dating him, I went a few times.”

“Fine, you did go, once or twice.”

“Because he disliked those parties, and if I didn’t go with him I would be alone,” you said. “Also there was that time you got so wasted, you started yelling at Jongseong—”

“That he didn’t deserve you,” he said. “Maybe I was too passionate on the way I had said it that night, but I still believe he doesn’t.”

You snorted, your hand bumping into his.

“I am serious,” he said. “The moment you accepted to share the telescope with me and Yeji that night you became my problem, and by my problem, I mean I care about who is with you.”

“So who would deserve me then?”

You looked at him, but he didn’t return your gaze. His eyes were still focused on the night sky, watching the lavender clouds rushing through. Despite the absence of light, you could see how his cheeks were flushed by the combination of summer heat and alcohol.

Sunghoon licked at his lips, and for a moment you thought he had decided to ignore your question, but then, he started, his voice so lowly it almost got lost in the middle of night.

“You deserve someone who loves you with every single beat of his heart, someone who thinks about you constantly, someone who spends every minute of every day just wondering what you’re doing, where you are, and if you’re alright. You deserve someone who will treat you with respect, and love every part of you, including your flaws,” he said. “You should be with someone who could make you happy, really happy — and I never felt like you were really happy.”

Sunghoon finally looked at you again, and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. The humidity air had curled his hair in the same fond way you remembered and when he smiled, his dimples appeared.

Although it had been a novelty to hear Sunghoon speaking like this, it hadn’t been a surprise. Sunghoon was the type of person who laughed easily, and forgave even faster. He gravitated toward the person in most need in the room without even noticing.

And maybe that’s why he came to you.

You needed him — more than you would ever tell.

To move to Uljin at such a young age had been easy, but looking back, you wondered if it would have been the same without him.

If it would have always felt like a home.

“You know,” you said, barely hearing yourself beneath the sound of your pounding heart. “If you ever find this guy, bring him to me, I will marry him in no time.”

He laughed at it, slightly throwing his head back and when he looked at you again, his eyes were soft — the night sky turning his brown eyes even darker as he reached for you. The tip of his fingers ran along your cheek before he cradled the side of your face.

“You are my best friend,” he said.

“And you are mine,” you answered, but your chest ached with each and every word.

You were just looking at each other. There were no hard edges to grab hold of, no different characteristics on this moment’s beginning or end, nothing to separate it from the other millions you had. But you for the first time after so long you caught yourself thinking what if — what if you wanted something more?

And what a terrifying thing it was.

For someone who managed to escape the furor of the parties for almost twelve months, you have been catching yourself quite a lot on it lately.

You didn’t like pool parties — especially if it was Jang Yujin’s pool party.

But late July brought the record of high temperatures to Uljin, the weight of summer pressing and ensuring that the entire county stayed spared between the sea and particular pools.

As Yeji’s friends took the sea behind your houses, Sunghoon felt it would be better for you to go somewhere else. So, despite the fact that you hated Yujin, you found yourself barefoot on the fresh grass of her family house as Sunghoon extended you a cup of cherry vodka.

“Fruity drink to my soft drinker,” he said.

You hardly registered his saying before you caught sight of Daeyeol approaching Sunghoon from behind, a mischievous grin that matched his companion.

“Anything valuable in the pockets?” Daeyeol asked.

“No,” Sunghoon replied, but if it had been to the question or a protest to what was about to come was uncertain. Daeyeol was already lifting Sunghoon by his armpits as your other ex-classmate took his ankles. Your drink fell from Sunghoon’s hand and between one breath and another, Sunghoon was launched into the pool.

The effect was instantaneous. As Sunghoon hit the water with a smack, the whole backward turned into a mess. Some people cheered as others decided to get into the water too.

You worried he would be mad, but as he appeared up the surface, scrubbing a hand through his hair, he was smiling.

“Help me out, teeny,” he said.

“Promise me you won’t pull me in,” you said, immediately regretting it. If it hadn’t passed through Sunghoon’s mind, it now was the only thing he could think about.

You stepped back, but he was already leaving the pool, coming in your direction in fast steps. And before you could run away, one of his arms wrapped around your waist as the other found the back of your knees. He held you tight to him, his soaked clothes already cooling your body as he moved and hurled both of you to the edge of the pool.

“I am here,” Sunghoon said. The first thing you ever hear after the dull sound of the underwater.

You didn’t notice how agitated you were until you felt his hands moving through your body, shifting you so you were straddling his waist.

“You should have let me teach you how to swim when we were younger,” he said.

“Why? I always had you to hold me,” you replied, and Sunghoon laughed, an easy and unpretentious burst of sound whistling across the breeze, and your heart lurched at it. You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, fingers blindly curling on the front of his shirt as you closed your eyes. That sound suddenly reminded you of shared cakes on his mother’s coffee table and nights spent on the hardwood floor of your bedroom.

“Yes, you always had me to do everything for you,” he said.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened on you, his fingers deepening into your skin as if his touch itself was a promise he wanted to make. His chest pressed against yours, and you wondered if he could feel your heartbeat — if it was rattling against your ribs as loud as it seemed to be.

All around you, people were still on their own fun, laughing and pushing friends into the water as the sun kept going down, shafts of orange and pink streaming across the water, but you only knew him.

You felt hazed by his closeness, by the way his citrus perfume blended with the scent of chlorine and cedar — by the way he shivered beneath your touch, his breath hitching when you slipped down, mouth accidentally running through his shoulder.

“Teeny?” Sunghoon called, his voice all soft and compelling, “You will always have me.”

He pressed his cheek to the side of your head, and for a while, neither of you moved, lingering in this moment of close silence for what felt like ages.

“I think I will go inside and get something to eat,” you said then, and Sunghoon nodded, carrying you to the edge of the pool and sitting you there, but he didn’t immediately let you go. Sunghoon lingered there, thumbs stroking circles into the soft skin on the inside of your leg, just above your knee as his fingertips hid underneath the hem of your dress.

He tugged at the edge of it, fingers light and playful, and it made the air feel warmer, heavier — like the sun was suddenly warmer above you.

You could feel his eyes on your chest, just above the neckline of your dress, catching the scattering of moles that seemed to be growing each other day beneath the Uljin’s suns.

And then his lips were on your cheek, pressing a kiss wet from the water still.

“Bring me something too?”

┈┈┈┈

Inside the house, the air conditioner was fully working, tingling your skin and making you follow the path to the guest room instead of the kitchen.

Sunghoon’s jacket was still on the pile of clothes and purses above the bed. As you reached for it, you felt a phone ringing in his pocket. At first, you thought it would be his, but as you took it, you noticed it was yours.

Yeji’s name shone for you, and you hadn’t a second thought before picking it up.

“Why aren’t you picking up?” she asked, the words coming stuttering as if she was forcing them through.

Your heart hummed against your ears so loud you couldn’t even think straight. You and Sunghoon had left her safety to enjoy the beach with her friends, and if there was something genuinely dangerous, you couldn’t think of it.

“Yeji, what happened?”

“I was stupid, sis, he doesn’t like me.”

You breathed in, taking a quiet second to calm your pulse.

“Hey, it’s alright,” you whispered. “Where are you? Are you home still?”

“Yes,” she said. “Can you come — can you come here?”

“Of course, wait for me just a bit, alright?”

┈┈┈┈

By the time you stepped out of the house, Sunghoon had already left the pool, a borrowed towel in his hand, and Jang Yujin standing by his side. She touched all over him, her fingers grazing his chest before she curled it on his shirt, leaning closer as she pretended to help him.

It was silly the way you felt your heartstrings being pulled at the view especially because it was no novelty — Yujin acted like this back in high school too, but you couldn’t help it despite the fact that you had bigger problems than someone flirting with your best friend.

“Hoon,” you called. You didn’t intend to make your voice sound frantic, but it came that way. And perhaps it had been because you already had his jacket hurled around you, one hand twisted on the material as the other held your previously abandoned high heels, Sunghoon was already slipping away from Yujin, walking towards you as if there was no one else in his eyesight.

“What happened?” he asked, hands promptly cupping the sides of your neck to angle you up to him.

“Yeji called. She was crying,” you said. “I didn’t — I didn’t understand well, but it’s something with the guy she went out with.”

Sunghoon nodded, his thumb drawing reassuring circles on your skin as he availed the situation.

“Have you gotten the car keys?” he asked. It was your time to nod. “Alright, let’s go.”

┈┈┈┈

It was eight in the night when Sunghoon pulled into his driveway, his house so dark that it was hard to imagine Yeji was still there. Even her room had the lights turned off, and only when you called for her did she move, but it had been only enough to peer through the edges of her sheets.

Although there were six missed calls on your phone, Sunghoon’s phone had been idle throughout the whole party. And if it didn’t make it clear that she wanted to talk to you, the way her eyes traveled between you and Sunghoon a few times in hesitation was.

“Hoon,” you called. “I think the bakery is still open, could you bring us something?”

His gaze encountered yours for a brief second before he sighed, walking toward Yeji, and kissing the top of her head. He said nothing at it. He just quietly slipped into his role as an older brother and left.

You crawled into the bed with her, wrapping your arms around her from behind.

“You are smelling like chlorine and alcohol,” she murmured.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Do you want to talk?” you asked.

“Even with you, I feel embarrassed.”

“Why so?”

“I feel stupid, you know?” she said. “He asked me out and I was already head overhill for him, and now I am like this because I found out he just wanted to make his ex jealous.”

You breathed in, perhaps so harshly that it had overtaken all the other sounds in the room.

Yeji chuckled at you.

“It’s alright, I have already gone through all the phases of mourning throughout the afternoon,” she said. “I am not blaming you and Hoon, please, do not take it like this. But I think I rushed to the first nice guy because I have grown up with people talking about how you and Hoon are soulmates.”

“A fate written in the stars, mom always says,” Yeji continued, and although she claimed to have passed through all the mourning already, her voice broke at the end, and although you couldn’t see her, you knew fresh tears had sprung to her eyes. “I wanted to live it too.”

You tightened your arms around her, bringing her so close that when she sobbed, the force of it resonated as if you were the one crying.

“Yeji, what is yours is reserved. And I am not only talking about a great love but anything in life. Sometimes we get so tied up in an idea that we miss out on the amazingness of what we could actually have,” you said. “What’s yours will come at the right time, so do not stress about anything. You will only get hurt.”

“I am hurt,” she said.

“I know, and I am sorry for it.”

“I am sorry too.”

You weren’t sure how long you had been there, but by the time Sunghoon arrived, Yeji had already drifted off to sleep, her breathing so slow and steady. You rose to your feet holding your breath, trying to make as little noise as possible until you were back in the living room, finding Sunghoon laying out the pastries on the coffee table.

He caught sight of you then and rewarded you with his best smile.

“I took a bit longer because I guessed Yeji wanted to talk with you alone,” he said. “How’s she?”

“Better, I think, she fell asleep,” you told. “I didn’t imagine she would.”

Sunghoon nodded at you, moving his attention back to the coffee table. You thought he would offer to walk you home, call it a night, and let you go, but instead, he gestured to the pastries.

“I got your favorite,” he said. “And absolutely nothing has walnuts, I swear.”

It was so natural to fold yourself on Jiyoung’s furry rug, so familiar to help Sunghoon line all the sweets and share. For a moment, you were ten again, doing it for the first time on a winter night. You were fourteen again, doing it after your middle school graduation.

“Is it the moment when I say ‘I told you so, men are all wolves’?” Sunghoon asked, bringing you back to the present moment.

“It is,” you admitted. “But please don’t.”

Maybe it had been because of the way you seemed sad there, the full frown that had taken over your face, but instead of continuing with his scolding, he reached for you across the coffee table, his trained fingers finding the slots between yours and squeezing your hand a little tighter, and it was such a small gesture, but something about it felt so reassuring.

“Yeji will be fine,” he said. “I will make her tell me his name, and I will end him.”

A laugh burst out of you at his words, and that was it — the spell was broken. Sunghoon laughed back at you and you squeezed his hand again, a signal for him to stop it and be quiet, but he did not, and you came to the conclusion you actually didn’t mind it.

His laugh was perhaps your favorite sound in the world.

“Try this one,” he said, extending you one of the pastries. “The baker said it was a new flavor.”

You leaned over the coffee table, taking his wrist with your free hand and guiding the pastry to your mouth so you could taste it. Your lips barely brushed against his fingertips, but his heart raced beneath your touch, and you let him go.

“It was kinda different,” he murmured. “The bakery.”

“The owner had been planning to do a renovation since last summer,” you said. “He told me when I went there with Jongseong.”

It’s a simple answer, a way to keep the conversation going, but when Sunghoon found your gaze, you could feel the heaviness that Jongseong’s name settled in the conversation.

“Jongseong,” he whispered, and you knew it had been an accident — his thoughts coming too loudly because Sunghoon never cared to say Jongseong’s name correctly. “Do you still talk?”

“We weren’t, but — but he called last week,” you confessed. “He is visiting his grandma. She lives in Gyeongsang too so he wanted us to meet.”

“And you agreed?”

“I did.”

“Do you really love him?” Sunghoon asked. The question stunned you unwillingly to silence, heart racing all together with your mind.

“No” would be the most logical answer. You knew you never really fell in love with Jongseong, but you also knew the implications this statement carried being said out loud — that overwhelming confirmation that you had been in love with Sunghoon instead.

“I don’t think so,” you could have said, but you had already allowed the question to hang in for too long, and in the middle of your silence, Sunghoon had created his answer.

“I still think he doesn’t get you, but I want you to be happy,” he said. “And if it’s with him, I will try to support you.”

“Try,” you echoed, earning a smile from him. But despite his fond reaction, he looked distant, halfway here with you and halfway deep inside of himself.

Sunghoon dropped the pastry back into the bowl and spilled himself on the rug. You followed after, being as close as you could without touching.

“Thank you for always taking care of Yeji,” he suddenly said.

“She is my sister too, remember?” you asked, immediately causing him to snort.

Back in the years, it had been a threat, she was your responsibility when her desires were too girly, or when Sunghoon was too tired to follow, but it became something you didn’t mind.

Yeji was as much as your sister as she was Sunghoon’s.

He reached for you, twisting a lock of your hair between his fingertips before he pulled it behind your ear.

“Of course I remember.”

A faint glow came through the windows, painting stripes of light and shadow over the walls, over Sunghoon’s cheek. There was enough light just for you to see his smile. And you wished you told him then, that he smelled like summer and citrus grooves on the sun, that he smelled like childhood and home.

You wished you told him how much you loved him.

“Can you stay the night?” he asked, and almost unconsciously, you held your breath. “Just in case she wakes up, all I will be able to say is ‘I told you’ and I doubt it is what she needs to hear.”

You doubted it would be Sunghoon’s reaction, but you nodded nevertheless.

“I can,” you whispered. “Of course, I can.”

You reached up to his shoulders, and he shifted onto the rug, maneuvering closer to you. One of his hands found your waist as the other reached up to your neck, his fingertips brushing and twisting on the hair at your nape. There was a certain stillness on it — your fingers on each other, your breaths getting tangled in the small space between you.

And despite the fact you could feel your chest aching, you had to admit that you were happy.

Perhaps Yeji was right. People lived their whole lives without getting to experience this type of intimacy, and you were a lucky kind to have found it with Sunghoon.

Perhaps he was your soulmate, and you were in love with him. But you would rather have this tiny sliver of him forever than have all of him for just a moment and know you had to relinquish all of it when you were through.

You could never lose Sunghoon again.

You couldn’t.

It doesn’t matter if your parents were out of town, it was Sunday night, and your seat was reserved on the Park’s dinner table as it always had been.

Sunghoon came to pick you up, showing up at your front door and holding his hand out for you as if it were too dangerous to jump the bunches that separated your families’ properties and walk the path to their front porch on your own.

The Park’s front door hung open that evening, and you could hear Yeji’s selected playlist already resonating through the speakers in the living room, some love song from the 80s reaching for you across the summer breeze altogether with Jiyoung’s faint commands.

“How is Yeji?” you asked, stopping at your troughs.

Sunghoon stopped by your side, peering inside his family’s house before he turned to you. The sun was still hefty despite the fact it was already seven o’clock, patches of sunlight dancing over his shoulders, over the striking features of his face. His hair almost looked gold beneath all of this light and you had to tell yourself to not reach for him — to not trace the soft line of his jaw and comb the hair back from his forehead.

Especially when he smiled down at you, his lips curling almost blearily.

“She says she is alright, but once in a while I catch her staring at the walls with a frown,” he said. “But don’t worry,”

“I will still get his name and end him,” Sunghoon whispered, leaning into your side and you could feel the smile in his voice, the warmth of it scattering and weaving from where his lips met your skin to your whole body.

You knew it was a fake threat, a joke you were supposed to follow, but you couldn’t. Your body was somehow still stuck in his proximity and you let his words hang in. The evening was still warm from the late july sun, but it had become almost unbearable with his proximity. You could barely breathe beneath his attention and you were suddenly thankful when Jiyoung appeared at the front door and caused him to step away.

“Come in, the table is all set,” she said. “I prepared bossam for the night.”

“My favorite,” you said, earning a smile from her.

And for a while, everything was fine again — easy even. But Jiyoung had recently discovered her new favorite wine and by the time the dessert was finished and Air Supply started singing about his secret inner thoughts through the wireless speakers, she was drunk, stumbling to her feet.

“Kwangho!” she exclaimed. “We danced to this on our first date.”

“We know,” Yeji quickly remarked with a scowl.

When Jiyoung got drunk her brain seemed to always reach for the same memories: her first date with Kwangho, a terrible dinner with her parents, and her marriage.

Tonight it seemed to have selected her first date with Kwangho.

“Dance with me,” Jiyoung said, causing a chuckle to escape from your lips as you watched her holding a hand to her husband and standing him up.

They retreated from the table laughing through their drunk state and stumbling until they found the back doors and disappeared, leaving the room suddenly too calm — not quiet, the chords of the love song kept resonating and dispersing through the whole place together with Sunghoon’s parents’ small talk coming from the open doors but it was steady, peaceful, an echo of the approaching late hours.

“I will take the dishes,” Yeji said.

“I will help you,” you offered, reaching for your plate, but Yeji was fast on taking it away.

“Drunk or not. Mom will kill me if she knows I allowed you to do any real chords in this house.”

You looked at Sunghoon in search of some support then, but he only shook his head, his lips already curving into a fond smile.

“I don’t want to get killed too,” he said.

You could feel your mouth opening in another protest as you turned back at Yeji, but Sunghoon brushed his knee against yours and when your gazes encountered, he didn’t wait for you to say what was on your mind, he immediately held his hand in the small space between you.

“Dance with me too,” he whispered.

You blinked at him, body going slack as you tried to find any sign of a joke on him. But Sunghoon remained still, his cheeks flushed by the same alcohol you indulged in and the late summer heat as he stared at you.

“I don’t know how to slow dance,” you finally said.

“Neither do I, but we can figure it out.”

You took his hand, allowing him to stand you up and take you to the side of the room.

It was no novelty to have Sunghoon guiding you, but there was something different about doing it outside the furor of the university parties and cheap clubs, away from the dimmed lights and intoxicated air.

It felt softer.

He placed your hands on his shoulders, but he didn’t let go easily. You felt his fingertips slowly tracing your pulse before his hands molded to your waist, bringing you closer at the same time he leaned in — just enough to rest his cheek against yours, but every contact was like a static shock, a spark of life where his skin met your skin, and your heart picked up.

“It’s such a sad song,” Sunghoon pointed out. “I don’t know why mom gets so happy over it.”

“Since when have you been fluent in English?” you laughed.

“I have been studying, but living with Jiyoung you have to know the lyrics of this song,” he said. “Between the fiftieth time and the fiftieth first you get curious about it.”

“And what do the lyrics say?” you asked, moving back to look at him. Your hands slid to the back of his neck for support, but your palms fitted so well on the slope curve that you couldn’t help but run your palm over it, fingers curling at his hair and making Sunghoon shiver beneath your touch, the soft rustle of his breath hitching against your skin almost imperceptibly.

It took him another moment to reply.

“He likes this girl — no, he is obsessed with her,” he whispered. “And he knows he is lost without her, but he is also afraid of letting her know it.”

“Why?”

“Well — this part is not in the lyrics,” he said, and you laughed at it, softly and ignoring the fact that your heart was slamming inside of your chest. “Was my analysis approved by my linguist student?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I always thought he simply meant love could be made out of nothing.”

“So plain.”

Sunghoon swirled you, a twist of his body that led you away from him, spinning on the tip of your toes for a quiet second, before he brought you back to him. His hand caught your waist again, slipping through the thin material of your dress until his fingers found the lace on your waistband.

“Nevermind. I think we are doing it wrong,” he said, letting you go suddenly and abruptly before he sunk himself onto his family’s couch.

You followed after, less forceful as you took the space at his side. You didn’t touch him, but you could feel the heat radiate from his skin and it was just as dizzying.

“When is your date with the dummy?” Sunghoon asked.

“Jongseong,” you corrected, but now it was a name that carried more emotions than facts. “He will be here on Tuesday, and it’s not a date.”

“Sure.”

“He probably just wants to catch up — we were friends before dating.”

The song changed on the wireless speakers, and the one that came on next was faster, sprightly, and lively. You could hear his parents laughing on the back deck, but when his fingers thumped against his thighs, you knew it was a reaction to his uneasiness rather than him following the rhythm of the song.

“You don’t need to do this, you know?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Please everyone. You started dating Jongseong because you felt sorry to reject him, and I am quoting you on this. You went to that party because Haneul asked you,” he said. “You are everywhere Yeji asks you to be — you are everywhere I ask you to be, and I admit my guilt about it.”

“If you want to go on a date or whatever you want to call it with Jongseong, it’s alright, but if you don’t — please, don’t force yourself to be there.”

“Hoon,” you called, although you weren’t sure what words were supposed to follow, the ideas of your thoughts coming faster than the certitude of it.

“Call me,” he whispered then. “If something happens there.”

“Sure,” you whispered back.

“You are my best friend, teeny.”

“And you are mine.”

August was what your grandma used to call the fickle month. It was the seam between july blue skies and september rains. Just yesterday night, the sky was clean, with not a single cloud to bloat the stars, but as you opened the front door, you not only encountered Park Jongseong but also the promise of rain. The low rumble of thunder that could be heard in the distance, and made the air almost static.

As you glanced past Jongseong’s shoulders, you couldn’t help but notice his showy convertible parked on your family’s driveway — its roof down as you always remembered. Jongseong must have caught your gaze, for his smile turned into something closer to embarrassment.

“Not the best option for the weather,” he said. “But it’s the only one that I got. I can close the roof if you want.”

“People buy a convertible for only one reason,” you said, and Jongseong laughed at that. The sound was so open and easy that you couldn’t help but allow a smile to rise to your lips.

Once, when you both were still dating, you had questioned why he would have bought a convertible when he lived in Seoul, such a rainy city for the majority of the time, but he only smiled and said the exact same thing, a bite of a smile crossing through his lips before he raced through the night and beneath the city lights.

So he drove you with the hood down, the wind trailing and tangling through your hair with the heady smell of rain as the county rolled past you.

Jongseong wasn’t the type to make small talk, so he didn’t attempt to speak under the thrumming engine, nor when he opened the café shop door, holding it still as you stepped past him.

You found it easy to slide into a booth across from him, easy to let your gaze meet his, small smiles playing on both of your mouths. You ordered a smoothie as Jongseong ordered a coffee and a plate of cake for each of you — the same flavor, and you had to bite your tongue to not say it would be a waste because you could share.

But sharing cakes was your thing with Sunghoon.

“How have you been?” Jongseong finally asked.

“Fine, yes, how about you?”

“Fine,” Jongseong said. “Nothing like spending a month at Nana’s house.”

“I can understand, your grandmother is such a lovely person.”

“She asked about you — actually, she asked how I allowed you to escape,” he said, and you laughed at this, cheeks turning a bit warmer and Jongseong’s lip twitched up.

“You have been asked about too,” you said.

“Sunghoon’s mother or yours?”

“How did you-”

“They were the only ones that didn’t seem to genuinely hate me,” he said, head ducking the way he did whenever he was unsettled.

“I am sorry,” you said because you really were — because you didn’t know what else you could say to him.

“That’s fine,” he said. “Actually, that’s the whole point — everyone knows your history with Sunghoon is way deeper than what you both tell. I knew it even before we started dating and it was my option to ask you out,”

“When I told Heeseung I was going to do it he said ‘Y/N? You mean Sunghoon’s Y/N?’.” Jongseong laughed, but you couldn’t do the same. “There was also that night when we just had started to go further into our relationship and you were at my studio. It was three in the morning or something, and Sunghoon called you really wasted,”

“You were so worried about him that I knew there was no one else in the world for you like him. And when we arrived at his place and he started shouting because you were with me late at night, I knew there was no one else in the world for him too.”

A look of disappointment passed over Jongseong’s features, too vivid and too unmistakable to be something buried in the past, and once again, you felt sorry.

“Then you both stopped talking and I know it’s so selfish to say, but I thought something was going to change,” he said. “Yet I only saw you lose the last sparkle in you. I always knew that you loved him, but I feel like I threw it on you when we broke up.”

“You didn’t.”

“I felt like I did,” Jongseong whispered, his gaze holding steadily onto yours, and you could feel he was studying you even before he continued.

“Listen, and please do not take it as your ex-boyfriend saying, but as a friend instead,” he asked. “Heeseung told me that Sunghoon lost it all after you two stopped talking. He would cling to the couch until the parties were over, staring at everything as if he were looking for something that was never coming. ‘Vultures spinning above of what was left of him’ were his words actually,”

“I don’t know what keeps you two from going after each other. If you can’t see it, or if it’s all about doubt and fear, but if he is too scared, you should do it,” Jongseong said. “It’s sad to see you losing what you could actually have.”

You didn’t argue with him. You couldn’t. Your heart was beating too fast, tripping over each heartbeat and making it impossible for you to think straight.

Behind him, the café was still blasting with life. A couple just a table away were sharing the same piece of cake, and when the woman laughed, you felt a longing inside of your heart.

You looked back at Jongseong, but he was already taking the last sip of his coffee.

“Let’s go, I will take you home.”

┈┈┈┈

Jongseong left you on the Park’s driveway, not waiting for you to get to the door to make a turn, his convertible disappearing through the street before you even reached the first stair, and honestly, it was better that way — no eyes watching as you mustered the courage to simply keep moving forward.

You rang the bell once, and then twice, but no answer came. Sunghoon’s Jeep was the only car in the driveway, with no sign of Kwangho’s gray sedan and you took a deep breath before you gathered up the courage to open the door like you normally could.

The door scraped open, and you shuffled in, blinking in the sudden lack of clarity until your vision got adjusted, the only light coming was from the back door. The sun hid behind the storm that never seemed close enough to fall.

You looked up and caught sight of him, leaving his room upstairs and closing the last few buttons of his blue shirt as he reached the first stair.

Sunghoon paused when he found you, looking at you with parted lips because you looked so embarrassed there.

“You didn’t pick up the door,” you mumbled.

“I was on it,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“Not that I mind,” he said, making his way down the stairs. When he stopped in front of you, he bottled you in the shadows with his full height, and it was one of those moments when you realized how much he had grown up.

“Where’s everyone?” you asked. “It’s so silent here.”

“Dad has a conference in Angok, mom always goes with him and Yeji decided to stick around because of the food,” Sunghoon said.

“Smart, I miss my dad’s conferences,” you said, immediately earning a snort from him.

“I thought Jongseong took you out to eat, but you seem as hungry as ever,” he said. “C’mon, I think there’s something in the kitchen.”

None of you bothered to turn the lights on. The path from the stairs to the kitchen was so familiar that you could have done it with your eyes closed. You knew where to step, and where to move so you didn’t hit any of Jiyoung’s furniture. So you both leaned on the kitchen island with the dim light of the end of the afternoon and mixed leftover pastries with Yeji’s experimental cupcakes.

“So,” Sunghoon said, subtly clearing his throat. His fingers thumped against the island’s surface and you felt your chest aching. “Are you two back together?”

“No.”

He stopped at your answer, all at once, and for an instant, something flashed across his face. But it had been too brief, too fleeting — stolen by surprise when thunder hit the shore and his gaze fled to the back doors.

“Why?” he whispered, and it had been so low that if you weren’t paying close attention to him, you doubted you would have noticed it.

“Hoon,” you called, and you hated how you sounded desperate then. The verge of your tears coming in before your thoughts.

You didn’t remember making the decision to move toward Sunghoon, but suddenly, you were there, standing so close that the air felt snuffed. His hands promptly found the sides of your neck, holding you up to him. And when his gaze encountered yours, his eyes were surprisingly bright beneath the dim light.

“Because I couldn’t — no, because I can’t love someone as much as I love you.”

Sunghoon stopped at your words, and the silence that followed was almost mocking. You had lived a good part of your life in Uljin, but you couldn’t remember a day when the waves had been this silent. Your mother’s wind bell had gone idle, and the breeze carried nothing but the promise of the rain — even the thunder had ceased.

“Teeny,” he whispered, and perhaps it had been the way his voice broke at it — perhaps it had been the way his hands fell away from your skin, but your heart wavered in your chest.

You could take a rejection from everyone but him.

You could lose anyone but Sunghoon.

In your mind, you saw Haneul, perhaps the first person who ever had put into words what everyone only spoke as half thoughts. You heard Yeji telling you about Jiyoung and soulmates, and you thought of Jongseong, just a few hours ago saying how there was no way Sunghoon didn’t love you back.

How could they all be so wrong?

“Teeny,” he repeated.

The kitchen was too warm, too sweet, pastries and cupcakes sugary all together with the scent of his perfume and suddenly you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“You really know how to drive one’s mad,” he said. “I didn’t know the difference between loving you and being in love with you. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember,”

“And then you kissed me at that New Year’s party.”

You lurched at his words, an incredulous gasp fleeing through your lips before you could even control it. You couldn’t remember doing it. New Year’s party or anywhere else, you couldn’t remember ever kissing Sunghoon.

“After we opened the second bottle of flavored vodka or something. It was close to midnight already — we were pretty drunk, and you—” he stopped. One of his dark brows lifted, but there was no amusement in his face as he considered you. “You really don’t remember it, do you?”

You only could shake your head.

“We kissed — actually, we made out in the middle of the living room and I swear, if you didn’t tell me you were starting to feel dizzy when I carried you to my room, I would—” Sunghoon stopped once again, and you could feel his words stuttering and stammering. “I held your hair as you threw up — I held you throughout the whole night as you were sick, but when you woke up in the morning, you said we should forget about everything because it was just too embarrassing for you.”

There was no way the world tripped, but you felt as if the ground had slipped through your feet. Everything was so unstable that you shrugged away, pressing your back against the kitchen island for support.

“I don’t remember,” you whispered. “I mean, I remember getting sick, but before it—”

“Yeah, I — I realized it now, but I thought you were embarrassed about having kissed me and I took it as a rejection, so I started dating random girls, anyone, really. I tried to take my mind off you, tried to forget about your kisses and how you made me feel,” he said. “And it was going half alright, well, until you started dating Jongseong.”

“And I know I had been the worst friend then, and you had the whole right to stop talking to me. But I had this thought for a while that maybe — maybe we could be like the old times again because now I’ve realized that no matter where you are or what you are doing, or who you are with, I will always honestly, truly, completely love you and I would hold this forever — I could be forever your best friend if it meant you were happy where else.”

His words pounded against you with an intensity that only made your chest ache a bit more. You could feel his words seeping into your skin, leaving a lasting impression that was hard to escape from. Outside, the rain had finally started to fall, and the sound of it only added to the overwhelming feeling of being caught in a deluge of emotions.

“When Jake told me he saw you at that party, I thought that was my opportunity,” he said. “That’s why I insisted on you coming with me to Uljin.”

You didn’t notice you were crying until he leaned in, his hands spreading at the island’s top and on each side of you as his lips promptly found your wet cheeks and kissed the heaving tears away.

“Don’t cry, teeny.”

“We broke each other’s hearts just because we were afraid,” you said.

“We did, but what is important is what we are going to do from now on.”

“When did you get so wise, Park Sunghoon?” you asked, and he smiled at you, his dimples flirting at the soft skin of his cheeks.

“Losing you got me really undone.”

“Yeah, I heard something like ‘vultures spinning above of what was left of him’.”

Sunghoon laughed at this, and then, he laughed some more, this time throwing his head back. He felt as if he had experienced all the possible emotions throughout these last minutes.

“Can’t believe Jake’s saying reached you.”

“Was it Jake’s?” you asked. “Because I heard it from Jongseong who heard from—”

“Don’t say his name,” he asked. “Not now.”

“Fine.”

His hands slid to your waist, bringing you impossibly closer and your skin tingled beneath his touch.

“Can I kiss you, teeny?” he whispered, the question coming little more than a whisper over your lips.

It was adorable the way he smiled there, boyish and warm eyes gleaming in the dim light of the approaching evening.

“Of course, you can kiss me, Hoon,” you said.

You placed your hands at the slope curve of his neck, palms fitting as perfectly as they did a few nights previous, and you brought him down to you.

But Sunghoon didn’t kiss you immediately, no — he took his precious time, hovering his lips just a single centimeter from yours as if he was checking if you would regret it and move away, and only when you didn’t, his mouth slide over yours, taking you slowly, softly, and different from how his fingers burrowed into your dress as he lifted you to the kitchen island, and sit you there.

You had no acknowledgment of how your first kiss with Sunghoon had been, but something within you knew, it had been exactly like this. There was no searching or learning, it was all about you already knowing each other. It was natural to push yourself into him — natural to part your knees and curl your legs around his hips, bringing him so close that you couldn’t tell where your heartbeat ended and his began.

His tongue brushed against your lips, a tiny demand that told you how much he had missed the taste of your lips, and when you opened your mouth for him, letting him press his tongue over yours, he groaned, his whole body pushing harder against you, and a gasp glided from your lips with the overwhelmingness of it. You moved back, but Sunghoon was still leaning in, eyes closed, and lips parted as he followed you through the few centimeters you created.

“Sorry,” he whispered, straightening himself. It had been just enough to encounter your gaze, yet his eyes stayed fixed on you as if he couldn’t imagine anything more fascinating than looking at you — as if all the gravity of the world was centered on you.

But then, there’s the sound of the engine on the driveway, the headlights of Kwangho’s sedan hitting the front window, and you barely had time to jump off the kitchen island, patting your dress in the hope there were no wrinkles before the door was opened and the rest of the Parks spilled in like a skimped part of the rain.

A gust of kind smiles and fond expressions.

You wondered if they could see the way you were blushing in the dim light — if they could see the way Sunghoon scrubbed a hand through his hair as he turned around and fought to catch his breath.

When the lights were turned on, Kwangho took a seat on the couch, followed by Yeji as both of them complained about the sudden change of weather.

It had been Jiyoung who approached you, giving both of you a peck on the cheek before she exclaimed how happy she was.

And then you knew that they could and they did.

┈┈┈┈

Sunghoon walked you home with the rain still pouring down, his hand on yours as you both jumped the bunches that separated your family’s property like you always had.

“I will give it five minutes until she calls your mother to tell,” he said.

“I would say they are already on a call,” you replied, reaching for the first stair, but Sunghoon stayed behind, allowing his hair to get soaked beneath the rain, curling at the ends, dripping water down his cheeks, over his lips.

He looked unfairly pretty, but to be honest, he always had.

“Is it crazy?” Sunghoon asked.

“What?”

“That I want to ask you on a date,” he said. “We have run this town from back and forth so many times. We moved to Seoul just to be together and I still want to take you on a date.”

“It’s not,” you whispered.

Sunghoon smiled at you, using your still connected hands to pull you beneath the rain with him — to pull you to him, and when he kissed you, he still tasted like sugar, all pastries and cupcakes sugary and home.

You held onto him, feeling the heat of his skin through his wet shirt, and this time, you were the one to lick into his mouth, pressing your tongues together and stealing a gasp from him.

You couldn’t help the way you surged up — onto your tiptoes, giving all your weight for him to catch and hold until you were both out of breath.

“Tomorrow then? Around this time?” he asked.

“Alright,” you said. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he answered.

“Can I at least know what I should dress?”

“Formal,” he said, not even blinking and you furrowed your eyebrows at him. “I am serious.”

It had been a long time coming — you and Sunghoon.

It had been spoken within whispers when any of you were nearby, talked when none of you were there.

It had been so waited up, that your parents only fondly smiled as you appeared formally dressed on the following afternoon and said you had a date with Sunghoon.

He waited outside, the engine of his black Jeep already on as he leaned on the hood, watching as you slipped out of your front door and walked towards him, high heels carefully avoiding the stones and pebbles of your family’s driveway.

“You look beautiful,” he said, and you smiled at him, cheeks suddenly growing warm because he had slid his hands to your neck, thumbs pressing gently into your skin as he tipped your head back, and angled you so you had to look at him, taking in his gleaming eyes. You could tell Sunghoon was no longer making any effort to hold it back, his pure affection towards you taking all over his face.

The weather had gotten better since yesterday, twilight light settling over the county and lighting him in a tangerine glow that when you pulled yourself closer to him, you could feel the warmth of it beneath his suit.

“You don’t look bad yourself,” you said, and he laughed at it, a burst of sound whistling across the breeze as his dimples found their way to flirt into the soft skin of his cheeks.

Sunghoon didn’t tell you where he was taking you still, but there was a picnic basket on the back seat and he took the road out of town, driving through the same emerald mountains and greenish fields you passed on your way back to the town weeks and weeks before.

You reached for him as he passed the county’s welcoming sign, palm resting above the back of his hand on the gear stick, and he shifted beneath your touch, turning his palm to you and slowly interlacing your fingers.

And God — you were really doing it.

He dropped down a few gears just several minutes after, parking on a clifftop somewhere, a pretty little spot where you could take off your high heels and sink on a blanket on the warm grass as you watched the sun come down on the sea in shafts of pinky peach and tangerine.

“It’s so beautiful,” you whispered, but if anything he only smiled at you. He had unpacked the picnic basket content, spreading neatly prepared sandwiches and perfectly sliced fruits on the blanket. Even a mini champagne had been included and you smiled when Sunghoon spared it in two flutes, the bubbles sparkling in its glasses in the softest tone of rosé because you always preferred it sweet.

“Have you prepared all of this?” you asked.

“Aside from this,” he said, extending you one of the flutes. “Mom and Yeji prepared everything — when I told them I was taking you out on a date, they got genuinely committed to help.”

“I can imagine how,” you laughed, and he moved closer to you, his free hand reaching for your hair, tucking a stray lock behind your ear.

“I was a bit scared of your father, you know?” Sunghoon said. “That’s why I waited outside.”

“Why? He loves you.”

“I don’t know, he hated Jongseong.”

“I don’t think my father — or anyone there hated Jongseong as a person,” you said. “They hated what he represented.”

“They hated that he was not you, you know?” you explained. “They made that same welcoming lunch last summer, and you should have seen their faces when it was Jongseong passing through your front door holding my hand.”

“Everyone expected that it was me and you in the end, didn’t they?” he asked.

“They still do.”

“Good thing it is me and you in the end.”

“Is it?” you asked, but his lips were already reaching to yours. His hand spread on your cheek, fingers brushing and tangling through your hair as he brought you closer as if he believed his existence lay in the acknowledgment of you — on how your heartbeats resonated together, how naturally your hands fit on the slope curve of his neck, and the sensations your bare fingertips are capable of drawing on him as you slipped it beneath the shoulders of his suit and pushed it away. The piece fell with a soft thud on the grass, and it was the last thing you were aware of before his tongue slid against your bottom lip, softly yet demanding, and you obliged immediately, letting him press his tongue on yours in a way that made your whole body solely focused on him.

You couldn’t help but pull him closer, fingers burying on the thin material of his shirt as his arms came around you, lifting you over and on top of him. Sunghoon was already hardening beneath you, the solid length of himself pressing between your thighs, and the sensation alone was so pleasurable that a whine escaped through your throat before you couldn’t even notice it.

But he did, stopping at the sound of you, hands coming up to your waist, and pinching you just to make sure you were looking at him, but you were — you always had been. The sun had disappeared completely beyond the sea, and when he tilted his head back to encounter your gaze, the remaining luminosity turned his eyes lighter, a blend of honey and whisky as his lashes cast shadows over his flushed cheeks.

And God — he was so beautiful.

“Is it really ok?” he asked, and you suddenly felt like joking about it, saying that it was as fine as having your first time together on an open field could be.

It’s not that you were awkward about having sex. Actually, you have been more straightforward about it than many of your friends, but there’s something about having it with Sunghoon — something that made your chest ache with a feeling deeper than bare desire.

The moment seemed to take forever, it seemed to take no time at all. In the middle of your silence, Sunghoon licked at his mouth, his tongue brushing against his already swollen lips as if he was suddenly afraid that he had gone too far — too fast, but if there was something you were sure of was that you and Sunghoon had never gone too fast.

“Yes, of course it’s fine,” you said.

You weren’t sure if it was you or him who ended the gasp between your mouths. You knew you had put a small pressure on his shoulders and he was already on you again, nose pressed to your cheek, lips sliding easily over yours, and already too well practiced in the art of making you sigh.

It was dizzying to be kissed like this. Fast, open-mouthed, and noises swallowed by one another, but Sunghoon didn’t move his lips away from yours, not unless it was to press his mouth to your neck instead, his tongue swirling against your skin, sucking and kissing little bruises that said everything he suppressed throughout all those years.

You were his — you were his just as much he always had been yours.

“I missed your smell,” he blurted out, the words tickled against your body, and when you shivered you weren’t sure if it had been it or the way his hands slipped beneath the hem of your dress. “It took weeks for it to fade from all my bed cushions, months to fade from all my jackets — and still, there were days I caught myself searching for it.”

His palms followed the curve of your thighs, finding where the skirts of your dress had gathered in the crease of your hips, working through your skin, and peeling the piece up to your waist — to your shoulders, taking it off completely.

He barely gave it a moment before he reached for the clasps of your laced bra, opening it and releasing a tight exhale at the whole view of you.

“You made me go crazy every day throughout this past year, teeny, every day,” he confessed. “You still do.”

And it hadn’t been hard for you to believe it. Sunghoon was looking at you as if he wasn’t all that sure if it was real — if you were real, if you weren’t a dream, if you weren’t a mirage that would vanish at any moment and he would wake up for you ringing the bell of his family’s house again, but this time saying you were back with Jongseong instead.

His breath quicked at the thought, and you rubbed your nose against his, lingering so close that he could feel your next words.

“I am here,” you whispered, hands finding that one spot on his neck, and drawing him down to the blanket — to you, urging him to settle between your legs before your fingers moved through his clothes, finding and curling around the buttons of his shirt almost carelessly as you opened it. “I am here.”

Sunghoon’s muscles tensed as you grazed through his low abdomen, nails scratching his skin ever so slightly but when you hurled around the waist of his pants, he reached for you, carefully moving your hands away.

“Let me take care of you first,” he whispered. “You have no idea how much I waited for it, so I want to take my time with you.”

You looked at him, drawing out a retort despite the fluttering in your chest. But Sunghoon was already cutting you off with a kiss, his lips lazy against yours, and being a perfect match to the way his hand trailed through your body, the tip of his fingers blindly flirting with the edge of your panties, tracing along the laced trim before he moved further.

A gasp glided out of you as he swiped over your folds. It was a barely there touch, lazy brushes that didn’t even part you beneath the cotton of your panties, but it was enough to make you falter, your whole body shifting into him, and he smiled against your mouth, a way too proud grin because you were where he wanted you to be.

You were exactly where he wanted you to be.

“You are so pretty,” he said, pressing a little harder and feeling the cotton growing damp beneath the tip of his fingers. The fabric clung to you with his every move, and it was dirty in a way that would have made you burn in embarrassment if it had been with anyone else but Sunghoon.

But it was Sunghoon, and you were sure you could come just by the slip and slide of his finger over you, the soft circles he did on your clit, but you wanted more — you wanted Sunghoon all and whole.

It might have been that strange string between both of you, but at your thought, Sunghoon pulled your panties aside, pushing two fingers inside of you with no previous note. You immediately clenched down around him, back arching and making Sunghoon tilt his hips against your thigh, a curse escaping his lips.

You couldn’t comprehend how he knew you so well — how he knew exactly how to move, how to make his name escape from your lips a little bit more frantic, and how to make you grip on his shoulders for some relief. Yet he knew, and it was almost maddening. The knot in your stomach got tighter with no ado, each curl of his fingers drawing you closer to the loss instead, to the burning on your spine, but before you could reach it, Sunghoon stopped, slipping out of you all at once.

You whined when he moved to kneel between your legs, finishing to pull his shirt off with two practical moves.

“Lift your hips for me, teeny,” he said, and you were way beyond rational thoughts to retort, doing whatever he said and allowing his fingers to curl at the laced trim of your panties, hands almost adoring as he dragged your last clothing down over your legs.

“Hoon,” you whined. “Please, I need you.”

It might have been the words, the small plead that took Sunghoon anew because he would never refuse anything you asked him, or perhaps it was the way you said them, a bit choked up because you couldn’t control it anymore, but either way, he gave in, unbuckling his belt, and shoving his pants down just enough to free himself.

“So impatient,” he said, snorting, but you couldn’t mind the tease on it. He was already lifting your legs to his hips and pushing into you, his breath hitching as he whispered your name, pronouncing it with a deliberate slowness that you couldn’t help but moan at.

It was one of those perfect august evenings when the air buzzed with the sea scent and there was not even a single cloud in the sky — the ghost of the stars falling on his hair as he hovered back above you.

Sunghoon hissed, looking down between your bodies, eyes glazed as he watched how you fit together. And you sobbed when he clutched at the blankets, knuckles turning white as if he was struggling to not be impatience himself because you did understand. This was more than you had ever felt with anyone — no, this was more than you had ever felt about anything.

Your fingers spread at his cheeks, angling his forehead against yours, pressing kisses to his lips, cheeks, and jaw, mumbling how it was alright if he grew impatient, it was alright if it didn’t last tonight.

It was not like it would be the only time.

But he was careful with you still, sweet nothings brushing against your temples even as your body came tight around him, your hands grabbing at his hair, desperately trying to hide the fact you were shaking as he continued to move his hips into you.

Sunghoon came when you did, as defenseless and relinquished as he could be, wrapping his arms around, and holding you until both of you had driven out of your highs.

He collapsed by your side, and you wanted to say something, but as you looked at him, you had the strange comprehension that there was nothing he didn’t already know. He was your best friend, your lover, and half of your soul. He had caught all your secrets through your eyes — tasted them on your lips and body so you only reached for him.

Your hand caught his easily, tiny and softly, and he allowed you to curl your fingers around his, pulling him a little closer and burying your nose on the curve of his shoulder to take him in. Sunghoon smelled like he always did: his citrus perfume blended with the brine scent of the seashore and home — your home.

He lifted your hand, kissing the inside of your wrist, a sweet gesture that gave no hint of how he would brought the tip of your fingers to his mouth a second later, two digits being pressed to his tongue as he sucked it.

You blew out a shaky breath, stuttering out a little laugh that Sunghoon was fast to follow.

“Hoon,” you whispered. “Let’s go back to Uljin.”

“Alright.”

“I meant after the graduation,” you said. “I know the main goal shouldn’t be to go back to our parent’s house after graduation, but there are a lot of nice places in Uljin,”

“Daeyeol’s apartment complex seemed a bit expensive, but maybe we-”

“Is this your way of saying you want to stay with me, teeny?” Sunghoon asked, almost earning a gasp from you. But his laugh quickly made you stop, swallowing the sound of your surprise together with your embarrassment.

His grip tightened around you, bringing you so close — you didn’t only hear the next words, but you felt them rushing through your skin.

“Alright,” he repeated. “Let’s go back, Uljin is our place anyway. And being honest, I have been thinking about it for quite a while. People in the city are always so stressed. There is traffic everywhere, and everything smells like smoke and street food. I prefer it here — with you.”

Park Sunghoon was tapping against your window. A hastened and insistent gait that only ceased when you lifted your head off your pillows, eyes all soft and glazed because the clock on your desk was still marking three in the morning.

And was he on your roof?

You leaped off your bed, moving as quietly as you could to the window and shoving the glass open.

“What are you doing?” you asked. But he didn’t reply. Sunghoon seemed comfortable sitting there, an easy smile playing on his lips as he spread his palms through the roof titles and averted his gaze from you to the sky, observing it for a few moments before he lifted his right hand to it, grazing through the air as if his fingertips could reach for the stars.

“Can you come outside?” Sunghoon asked, and there was no way time had changed, but you felt like the seconds were turning into something more. You were twelve again, sneaking out for the first time on a night in july with him. You were eighteen again, barefoot on the cold sand of august and promising you would stay together endlessness.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “Can I?”

“Please, I had to climb your rafters,” Sunghoon said, lowering his hand.

“You weren’t picking up your phone,” he explained. “And to call the fixed line at three am didn’t seem a nice step, although your parents love me.”

You had to control your will to roll your eyes at his words. It had been weeks since you had confessed to each other in his family’s kitchen, weeks since you officially launched it to your parents on the typical Sunday dinner, and it had been weeks since your father started calling him son.

“Please, I will catch you,” he said.

“Catch me?” you echoed, but he was already slipping through the roof titles, and jumping into your family’s back deck.

You breathe in, not giving yourself time to think before you carefully swing over your bedroom window and edged your way onto the roof. Outside, the night sky was colored in shades of lavender and mauve — a typical summer night in Uljin, but the breeze rushed with the wet scent of rain and warned autumn was slowly coming in.

“Can’t I use the back door like a normal person?”

“C’mon,” he said. “I will catch you.”

“Hoon,” you whined, quickly stealing a laugh from him.

“If you are too scared, you can use the back door,” he said, his voice laced in fondness. “But I promise you, it isn’t that high.”

“Will you catch me?”

“Didn’t I tell you so?” he said, extending his arms at you.

You jumped, and he caught your waist as you landed, pulling you against him. And all of sudden you could scent him — his citrus perfume blended with the brine scent of the seashore, and home.

“Caught you,” he whispered, voice winding into your hair. His breath was warm against your exposed skin and you knew it was supposed to be just a statement, but his words tingled through your body.

He stepped back, holding his hand out for you, fingers spread so you could fill the small gaps in between as he guided you toward the sea. Sunghoon stopped just before the water could reach your feet, but still, the breeze caught the cold sprinkles, brushing them against the exposed skin of your cheeks as you watched him take a box out of his pocket with his free hand and extend it to you.

“I thought we should renew our promise before going back to Seoul tomorrow,” he said.

You took the box suspiciously. It was far too small to be anything but a jewelry or mittens. But the confirmation only came when you had peeled the ribbon, and opened the box, allowing the moonlight to glitter above the necklace.

“Merry Christmas,” Sunghoon whispered.

“Hoon, it’s beautiful,” you replied. “But it’s not even September and we never exchanged gifts.”

“I know, but I got it for you back in December,” he said. “I came here on Christmas solely to give it to you, but you weren’t here and when I went back to the antique store to return it, the witch-looking grandma had disappeared together with the whole store.”

“Are you telling me you bought a cursed necklace as a present?” you asked and there it was. Sunghoon couldn’t control his smile from growing wider, too happy with how you always knew how to come up with his jokes.

“How did you know it was exactly what she called it?”

“You are so annoying.”

“Let me help you,” he said. You turned your back on him, allowing Sunghoon to brush your hair away. It was a brisk, soft, barely-there touch, but his fingertips created shivers through your skin and you shivered as he tied the necklace.

“What was the curse?” you asked, but he didn’t reply. He allowed your words to be carried together with the breeze long enough for you to decide to turn back to him. And when you did, Sunghoon brought his hands to your cheeks, holding you so you had no other option than to encounter his gaze.

His eyes were bright then, reflections of the stars and his appreciation towards you.

“You are stuck with me for eternity,” he said, and you laughed at him, the sound of it whistling through the air and brushing through his lips as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“It’s surely a curse,” you said. Your tone was merry, teasingly, but Park Sunghoon knew you like no one else in this world.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

There had been a time when Sunghoon thought that you and he were meant to be forever.

And to be fair — his assumption used to make sense. For years, you had been best friends, halves of a whole, and the downfall of your friendship certainty was something no one could have predicted.

But that’s the thing about life — one moment people think they know exactly where they are headed, and the next, everything changes. The wind drifts the other way, and they have to follow through.

Yet best friends always find their way back to each other — soulmates always end up together, and Park Sunghoon surely was it: your best friend and your soulmate.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fluff #enha #enha x reader #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #yumi’s bibliotheca!

1K notes · View notes

simpjaes · 4 months

Text

take the back-seat part two. (p.js & s.jy)

Jake isn’t sure what’s worse, the thirteen hour drive to the beach where he watched you get railed by his best friend in the backseat, or the five days he’s gonna be spending there knowing he is expected to watch—or join, whichever.

– read part one here!

minors do not interact, otherwise― pls reblog my works

WC ― 14.3k

PARING ― jay x afab reader x jake

TAGS ― vacation setting, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, jealousy (both jay & jake), implications of a budding poly relationship, there’s a lot of dialogue to depict character development regarding the whole inviting jake thing.

!!WARNINGS!! ― jay is a little touchy with jake, if you don’t like it, sounds like a you problem.

A/N― reminder that this fic is a revamp from one i wrote over on my other blog! here is part two :D enjoy!

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― borderline infidelity (jay is into but doesn’t wanna admit it), finger fucking, neglected cock syndrome, hair pulling, jay teaches jake how to fuck his girl, jay basically moves jake like a puppet, cum stuffing, humiliation/degradation, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

What Jake feels for the remainder of that drive was unexplainable. Looking at you through the mirror with Jay next to you…it felt,for lack of a better word, different. Sure, he’s walked in on the two of you before, and watched for a little too long but, this is different. He personally saw Jay stuff you full and not only that but he saw your face as it happened. You spoke for him, to him , and he didn’t even get his ass kicked by Jay after the fact.

The feelings in his head swirl around like a forming tornado threatening to touch down and cause him to lose all sanity. Five days with you two locked in this beach house with nothing but freedom at your feet. Worse, even when the three of you go home, he’s just locked in a different space with the two of you until he gets back on his feet. Jake isn’t even sure if he wants to leave now. On one hand, he wants to start running just to get away from the overwhelming embarrassment, on the other, he thinks he might like it. He thinks the two of you might like him being around to see too.

“Is this going to be a normal thing?” Jake remembers asking Jay inside of the bathroom at the gas station. What was Jay’s response? “ Maybe, if you keep wanting to catch us.”

What to do, what to do, with a lust so hungry Jake feels like it’s eating him from the inside out? Catch you on purpose? Stalk your private moments with his best friend just to get another taste of that bliss just out of reach? Not even a taste actually.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay drags his feet as he carries your bags along with his own. He’s acting normal despite the constant groaning about how his legs hurt after certain endeavors on top of the thirteen-hour car ride. You stay close to him, attempting to snatch a few bags so that he would at least stop crying about the very deed he wanted to do during the ride.

Jake stays behind, quietly carrying in his things and avoiding the cracks on the sidewalk so as to not scratch his new suitcase set (and so he doesn’t break his mother’s back). One headphone in, he barely hears the two of you as he opts to try and escape the madness outside of the audio in his ear. That is, until he gets inside the beach house.

“Okay so, hear me out–” Jay smiles at Jake, stepping in front of him as he tries to pass. “Listen, Jake. Just,” Jay puts his hands out in front of him, stepping both left and right to continuously block Jake’s path.

“There’s only one bedroom.” You announce, breaking Jay’s plan of trying to convince Jake that it would be a sick idea for him to watch more .

Jay did know. Of course he fucking knew, he’s the one who booked the place. You didn’t know, but he also knew you’d play along anyway. Given, Jay hadn’t completely planned the whole car thing so it’s kind of awkward now. Despite always wanting to be caught, watched, and envied, Jay really didn’t think past the idea of causing Jake inner turmoil with this rental.

“S’cool. I’ll take the couch.” Jake waves off, dropping his bags and looking around the space.

Your eyes drop before Jay’s do.

“Wait, no,” Jay groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, you can still sleep in there with us. There’s two beds.”

Two beds. So it was intentional to put Jake in a position he couldn’t resist, huh?

“The idea was to invite you to watch. Surely you’ve caught on to everything by now, right?” Jay looks at Jake with an apologetic stare. “It’s kind of awkward now inviting you, but I thought you’d be happy to take us up on the offer, especially after our little talk…”

Jake looks to the floor with tinted red flushing over his cheeks.

“You really couldn’t just wait to get here first before sitting him down and discussing?” You ask, scolding your boyfriend despite the fact that you played at least fifty percent into his on-the-fly plan on the ride over here.

“You looked hot and he was tired.” Jay states the obvious with a careless shrug.

Jake is just standing there trying his best not to let his mouth fall open. Jay really wants to propose that he should just watch? Nothing else? Just fucking watch?

Ka-ching. It’s little to grasp at, but Jake’s gonna take it. After seeing everything and hearing you, why wouldn’t he? His best friend is practically giving him the ability to watch you be pleasured.

“Okay,” Jake stops both of you from bickering. “Let’s discuss it now then.” He adds, averting his eyes from both you and your boyfriend to avoid showing how much interest he actually has in this little vacation plan.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

After a long and drawn out discussion, rules were set into place. Rule number one, Jake cannot touch you under any circumstance. You were quick to side eye your boyfriend’s best friend during that moment, noting the disappointed look that washed across his face. Rule number two, Jake can request things he wants to see, but if either you or Jay are uncomfortable with it, the request can be ignored. Rule number three, you can talk to Jake while it happens and he can talk back, but Jay will more than likely use every opportunity he finds to humiliate him for it.

Jake doesn’t falter at any of the rules except for the first one, mostly because it’s going to be hard to not want to touch you. He assumes that’s part of the fun for Jay though. He feels embarrassed accepting the terms, awkward as he places his bags in the shared room the three of you will be sleeping in, and restless at the way reality hits him. You, his best friend’s girlfriend, want him to see.

You want him to get off to you.

He feels a bit shameful about it. After all, Jay has been his best friend for fucking years at this point and he’s a little unnerved that none of this is making him feel as weird as it should be. Should Jake really be excited about watching his best friend fuck his girlfriend? Probably not, but he is, and he just assumes this is another ‘ weird’ thing he likes added to his list.

“Hey–” Jay nods his head towards Jake as you walk out of the room for a shower. You did your best to clean up at the gas station too but, to be fair, the bathroom was just as dirty and cum-covered as you were, probably.

“Yeah?” Jake looks over at him, unzipping his suitcase and pulling out a change of clothes. Mostly so he can hop in the shower after you’re done.

“You sure you’re cool with this? I know I kind of did a lot of this intentionally, but really, if you’re uncomfortable I’d rather you just tell us–”

“No!” Jake argues at an embarrassingly desperate pitch. “I mean, no.” He clears his throat as he corrects himself, and then does his best to avoid eye contact by focusing solely on digging for his toiletries.

“That’s what I thought,” Jay smiles knowingly at him, internally writing a list of things he can do to torture Jake, a list specifically made to cause envy and probably resentment.

“So, like,” Jake swallows, still unsure of his footing in this situation. “When will it happen again?”

Jay actually laughs at him this time.

“Oh, you thought–” He shakes his head and goes to take off his shirt. “No, no. Jake. You’re still gonna have to catch us to watch.” He explains, throwing his shirt on the presumed “cuck chair” in the room.

“Wait, what?” Jake is confused. They want him to watch, but they’re still going to make him go through the embarrassment of catching them?

“That’s the fun part of it for me,” Jay tries to clear it up. “I like the surprise of someone seeing. I like the reactions. It’s exciting,” He continues, now stopping to really look at Jake. “Looks like you enjoy watching, so–”

Jake nods slightly, tilting his head with a furrowed brow. “For the record, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. You kind of made it hard not to see things.”

“I know.” Jay laughs. “Gotta get creative on weeknights when there's no parties going on.”

“You do it at parties? Like just right there in public ?”

Jay nods with a smug smile.

“A lot of people don’t even notice, but the ones that do–” Jay’s eyes nearly light up. “They always watch. They don’t even pretend to look away.”

Jake feels a little bit flushed at the idea of attending a party with the two of you. He couldn’t imagine being put in a situation where he, along with several others, get to watch you orgasm.

“She likes that?” Jake asks, a little shocked.

“I mean, she gets really into it but I can admit that she seems to like when you watch a lot more.” Jay glares for a second. “Which again, kind of pisses me off.”

Jake waves him off, trying to act nonchalant about it.

“I hope you know that this is more of a trial run, Jake. If she gets bored of you, she probably won’t be as into it later.”

Okay, ouch. Fair, though. Jake would never stick around if it’s not something you want. He can already sense that Jay didn’t want it this way either. Maybe Jake watching was exciting, but he does sense a bit of tenseness in the air each time Jay brings up how you lusted over him so blatantly in the car.

“And if she doesn’t get bored?” Jake counters and Jay kind of takes internal offense to it. Passive aggressively chuckling towards him.

“Oh, she will.” Jay says as a way to assure himself rather than answering Jake. “I’m the only person she doesn’t get bored of.”

Jake, for some reason, takes that as a challenge. He might be the one getting the short end of the stick here, but the only reason he’s getting a stick at all is because of you. Regardless of if Jay wanted him to watch, surely he never wanted you to like it as much as you do.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, competition is one way to put it. Jay resents himself forever even trying to get Jake all flustered. He did it because he wanted to be watched, but he also wanted Jake to be fucking jealous. How the hell is he supposed to be jealous when you, his own girlfriend, got entirely too wet for another man while he was buried in you?

Playing it as cool as he can, Jay is still excited, just a little less now that he knows he’s going to have to fight for your attention. Those set rules? Between you and Jay, neither of you had to actually follow those rules. Jake can do what he wants at your discretion, but it’s not like Jay is gonna just tell him that. He was shocked that you pressed to let Jake join just one time. His whole fantasy is about being watched during a private act, not inviting someone to actively play a part in it. Nevertheless, he granted you a small nod when you suggested it, sternly letting out a small “ just this once. ”

Sure, he’s the one who fucked you in the car and he’s the one who told you to talk to Jake but, it’s not like he expected the outcome that came from it. It was a moment of lust where he thought it would be hot to see you unable to speak because you’re being fucked– but no. You were speaking to Jake and riding him harder because of whatever the fuck was going on up in that front seat.

Naturally, your boyfriend has that mischievous little glint in his eye when you return from the shower and Jake opts to steal the bathroom before he can.

“You are aware that you’re getting more out of this than I am, right?” Jay laughs, pulling you from your stance and flopping you down onto the bed. “I just wanted him to be jealous, you’re ruining my fantasy.”

You smile at him with the same mischievous little glint.

“And you’re an amazing boyfriend for letting me try something new,” You praise, kissing the tip of his nose when he crawls on top of you. “I’m sorry that it’s hot knowing two guys want me this badly.”

Jay sighs, dropping his face to your neck to smell the soap against your skin. Of course, you’d be into that. His thing is people being jealous of what he gets and your thing just has to be the idea of being wanted. It fits a little too well.

“Bet you weren’t even planning to put anything on for bed tonight, were you?” He laughs with a groan, cursing how willing he is to let you have whatever you want despite not wanting to give Jake what he wants.

“Bingo,” You smile evilly, pulling away from Jay so you can see his face. “Plus, it’s hot seeing you get all possessive. That’s new, even for you.”

Jay once again sighs with a groan.

“Promise you won’t like, up and leave me for my best friend?”

Realizing there’s a bit of truth behind his concerns, you stiffen a bit.

“You know I wouldn’t do that. Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he can pleasure me better, or treat me better.”

Finally, a genuine smile breaks across his face and it makes you feel warm.

“Do you wanna play a little tonight?” He offers, wiggling on top of you with a newfound desire over the fact that you always know how to silence even the slightest of insecurity he feels.

“After everything from the ride over? I’m tired, Jay, really.” You admit with a pout.

“I’m not tired yet. Just let me do the work, you can just rest–” He tries to convince you and it works, much like it always does.

Jay is doing this specifically for you. It’s not like he always needs to be seen when the two of you are intimate. It’s nice sometimes seeing you act real for him. Seeing your underwhelming and soft reactions to whatever he’s doing because you both know that you’re not putting on a show. He can admit to loving the way you still moan for him despite knowing nobody but him can hear it.

Even knowing Jake will be in the bed next to yours at any moment, you think Jay can get away with whatever he wants to do privately . And for the most part, he does. At least, at first he does.

Lying on your back with a leg thrown over Jay’s lower half as his fingers trace lazy circles against your bare skin, you knew his fingers were going lower and lower, but it’s relaxing even as your eyes fight to stay open.

When Jake comes back into the room, hair still dripping a bit at his failure to dry it properly, you don’t move or react outside of a sleepy glance at him.

“Hey, you ready to hit the sack?” Jay calls out, fingers moving lower on your stomach and landing just above where your panties would sit if you were wearing any under this robe.

“Yeah. Water ran cold though, might wanna wait a little bit before you shower, Sorry.” Jake admits with shame, not making eye contact with either of you as he flops himself onto his bed. He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, which is something you’ve seen him wear time and time again at home, but man, why does it look so hot now?

Jay laughs, kind of like an ‘of course there's no hot water for me’ laugh, but he doesn’t mind, if anything, he’s having fun lulling you to sleep with a gentle finger fuck session behind Jake’s back.

The room goes silent save for the television that Jay flips to some random reality show. You’re still focused on his fingers, more gentle than he normally would be. Still, it’s probably just because, for once, he doesn’t want Jake to know what’s happening.

When your boyfriend’s fingers finally make their way to your clit, it’s not shocking that you’re already wet. Your breathing is still even, and it feels good to be touched right now. You turn your head only slightly to look at Jake. He’s so endearing to look at. Never once have you seen him preparing himself for sleep. For some reason, it feels intimate seeing his bedtime rituals.

With one hand scratching against his hair, he’s on his side and practically hugging his pillow against his head as he fixes his eyes on the television. You can see how heavy his eyes are. He was already tired when he first started his shift of driving, and the back seat didn’t offer much in terms of a nap. You imagine if he knew what Jay was doing, he wouldn’t have the energy to participate anyway.

You, though, are feeling a little bit more awake since your clit is being beautifully stimulated by your boyfriend. Jake’s supposed to be watching you with this little deal, but there were no rules that you couldn’t watch him and fantasize, right?

Jay is a little shocked when you hold his hand in place and turn to face Jake. You close your eyes at first, mostly so it still looks like you’re about to sleep, but you press Jay’s fingers a bit lower, urging him to penetrate you with them.

He, like the amazing boyfriend he is, follows suit with a curious stare at the back of your head. Then, he turns on his side behind you and spoons you, adjusting his position so that he can swoop his hand under your ass and between your legs in order to do just as you ask of him.

Jay knows what you’re doing, but opts not to say anything despite really wanting to. He assumes Jake is blissfully unaware, somehow, so saying something would turn this whole situation into something more than any of you actually feel like doing tonight.

This goes smoothly for a few minutes, with his fingers gently and silently plunging in and out of you. Honestly, Jay is too good with his fingers and he’s being too quiet compared to normal, again, because of Jake. You know you shouldn’t be including him right now, but you are, even if secretly.

A breath falls from your lips when Jay rubs his fingers against a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, sending a wave of warmth down your body and dripping out against his fingers.

“Feels good?” He whispers against your ear, noting the way your breathing is a bit more audible. “Don’t forget that I’m the one touching you, baby.” He adds in an even quieter whisper.

You let out a small groan in response, very small. Just loud enough for Jake to fix his eyes on you to find you blatantly staring back at him.

You smile at him and press your ass back against Jay just a little bit, and he’s quick to move his fingers quicker inside of you.

Jake just looks at you, processing that it’s already happening again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The summer air is salty but all too grounding for Jake as he sits on his towel and watches the way you and Jay appear to be as comfortable as ever wrestling on the shore of the sea. Even after last night, part of him wonders what actually happened but he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to ask. Not only did you look at him as you hit your climax, but Jake was made aware that he needed to be silent in watching you due to your finger coming up to your mouth in a shushing action.

His eyes darted to Jay when you did that but he appeared to be a great actor as he watched the tv with his head tucked between your shoulder and neck, fingers plunging in and out of you casually. Even when Jake gently fucked his own fist, staring directly back at you, he realized that this shared moment with you was something Jay wasn’t aware of. It blurs the lines a bit of what is okay and what isn’t, but the rule is that Jake can watch if he catches the act. He guesses you’re the one breaking rules.

Even now, as he processes this newfound sexual adventure in his head, he’s fond of the relationship Jay has with you. Incredibly jealous, of course, but also just– Jake wants what Jay has.He wouldn’t share you, he wouldn’t want people to see him pleasure you, and he certainly wouldn’t want Jay’s cock to make an appearance at any point during his relationship with you, but you’re not his.

Still, the two of you seem to enjoy this kind of thing, and the fact that Jake appears to be the chosen third to take part makes him feel warm. Despite his jealousy, he respects the relationship you have with his best friend for the most part. There’s still that selfishness inside him though, the thought of being able to be between your legs rather than just a person to look at across the room? It drives him insane. Jay gets to flaunt you, make you feel good, and make you moan but, Jake is very aware that he got all of your attention the night before, even if it wasn’t his own fingers doing it to you. He got your attention in the car too, to the point of Jay showing his own jealousy.

Again, there’s a thin line between what he’s allowed to do and infidelity. If you ask him to do anything though, he’s going to do it. He’s going to be what you want or need at any given moment simply because he’s a single man forced to live with his extremely sexually adventurous friends, and you happen to be incredibly fucking arousing to him. Jay kind of did it to himself. Never would Jake have fantasized about you like this if it weren’t for the fact that Jay desperately wants people to see his cock inside of you.

“Hey!” You shout from the shore, pulling Jake out of his thoughts.

He waves back to you and then glances at Jay who has a huge smile on his face. Jake watches as you struggle to leave the water, the weight of the waves pushing and pulling you as you look at him. He stands to his feet, kicking off some of the sand on his legs, and makes his way towards you as well, meeting you in the middle.

“I’m gonna have a snack, go waterboard my boyfriend.” You joke when you stop in front of him.

“There’s chips in my bag if you want any.” Jake waves you off, realizing how normal the communication is between the two of you. In the silence, the communication is somehow more intimate.

When Jake makes his way down to the water, straight up to his best friend, for some reason he still feels like he’s walking on eggshells with all of this. Not with you though, because you clearly know what you want. Jay, on the other hand, shows that he’s annoyed over his plan becoming more of a pleasure for everyone but him.

“You’re not hungry?” Jake asks, dipping himself lower into the water and shivering at the ocean breeze.

“Nah, we’re finally here. I’m staying in the water ‘til I’m forced to leave.”

“Ah, good plan.” Jake confirms, allowing himself to float back a bit with the waves.

“Are we okay?” Jay suddenly asks, standing to his feet and looking down at him. “You really are allowed to decline this offer. I'm even a little nervous about it now.”

Jake squints his eyes open towards Jay, the sun blinding him more than his best friend’s smile usually would.

“It’s a little weird but I like trying new things. I’m not trying to disrespect you by accepting.”

Jay sighs in relief.

“I know. If it’s gonna be anyone, I'd rather it be you.” He laughs with a sigh. “Still would rather her focus on me but I guess I kind of owe her this.”

Jake adjusts himself back to his feet, tilting his head at Jay.

“Oh yeah?”

“I mean, it’s not like she was into the whole being watched thing until I told her I wanted to try it.” Jay looks up into the sky, feeling the sun warm his face. “I liked it more than she did, but she came around, I never forced it or anything.” He breathes in the air and sinks lower into the water. “I think she did it to please me but she started getting really into it after a few times.”

“She’s definitely something–” Jake starts, glancing at your figure flopping back on the sand and sinking your hand into a bag of chips.

“Yeah, and I guess it’s my turn to let her try the things she’s curious about.” He laughs. “Even though it’s my fault and it involves my best friend. I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that neither of you would do anything behind my back. ”

Damn.

“Um, yeah.” Jake looks away for a moment. He knows he is famously awful at lying.

Jay looks at Jake knowingly.

“Like, without me in the room at least,” He smiles, winking at Jake once before throwing a splash at him. “because I know what you guys did last night.”

Jake goes silent, wiping the salt water from his eyes and looking at Jay apologetically with burning pupils.

“Relax, she told me while you were up there sulking. Said something about the danger of me finding out or something got her going, even though she knew that I caught on anyway.” Jay reassures, explaining away any explanation of Jake himself being the reason for it. “I get it.” He laughs this time.

“Should I like, have not watched?” Jake asks awkwardly, looking away from Jay and floating back a bit.

“Nah, just give her what she wants. She’s gonna tell me regardless so let’s just try to have fun with this okay? If any of us are having issues, speak up.” Jay glares for a moment. “Because you know damn well I’ll put a stop to all of it if it goes too far.”

Jake nods, a small smile creeping up on his face.

“What happens at the beach, stays at the beach.”

“God, I hope. I’m not moving you into our room at home.” Jay laughs, feeling a little better about it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A very sexually active trip indeed. Jake could sense the tension in the air by the time all of you return to the beach house. Even through dinner, he sensed both you and Jay staring at him in very different ways. Even though talking made Jay feel better, he’s still possessive over you and you seem to like it a lot . So, he might be playing it up a bit for your sake.

You are quite literally eye-fucking Jake, and Jay’s eyes are basically demanding him to keep his cock under lock and key. It’s weirdly erotic, and insanely confusing, but he knows Jay will speak up if shit goes too far, just like he said he would.

By the time the three of you are piled up on the couch and putting in some shitty romance movie, it gets a little more comfortable.

You’re leaned up against your boyfriend and Jake is leaned up against the arm of the couch at the other end. He doesn’t feel eyes on him anymore and it’s a relief.

By the time it’s mid movie, he notes the soft snores coming from Jay. You, on the other hand, are feeling mischievous. Jay said to you specifically, away from Jake, no limits . Do what you want to him, ignore the rules, explore, have fun– but be ready to stop at the slightest mention of discomfort from either of them. You’re being given so much fucking power over both of these men. They both want you , and god does it feel fucking amazing to be wanted.

When you shift towards Jake, gently so that Jay isn’t stirred from his slumber, Jake finds himself leaning towards you without question. Even when you slide yourself under his blanket and grab his hand, he doesn’t falter.

His attention to the plot on the screen in front of him surely falters though. You’re doing the thing again. You’re excluding your boyfriend and Jake can’t bring himself to give a single fuck right now because you’re quite literally slipping his hand into your panties without so much as a “please?”

Immediately Jake’s fingers explore against his better judgment. He’s seen your pussy stretched out on his best friend, he’s watched you orgasm, he’s heard you moan, but never has he gotten to touch you.

“Mhm,” You encourage gently when Jake slides his fingers down your slit, collecting the slippery arousal and sliding his fingers back up to your clit.

You found yourself wondering how Jake would do it, especially the past day or so. Jay knew how to please you, but you can’t help but think that the act of someone learning how to please you is just as hot. Jake appears to know exactly how to use his fingers against a woman, the thought of him alone with someone other than you only heightens your pleasure at this moment.

Jake does this for a while, silently and gently rubbing your clit as he forces his eyes to stay on the screen. You just watch him though, and the way he parts his lips in a silent moan when you press against his fingers with the smallest show of want .

The secretiveness of it really gets you going. Seeing Jake turn to mush in your hands, doing anything you could ask him to do, right there while your boyfriend is sleeping next to you? God, what a fucking simp. You love it. You love the fact that his fingers are slightly softer compared to Jay’s, and the way he avoids sticking them in you even if you insist by lifting your hips slightly.

You lean towards Jake more this time, moving one leg over his lap and opening yourself up for more.

“You should fuck me.” You whisper into his ear with a voice far too sweet for the words. “He won’t mind.” You add at his silence, feeling his fingers halt as he processes the words.

“I can’t do that–” Jake whispers back, sliding his fingers down again and noting how much wetter you’ve gotten.

“Want me to ask him?” You joke, grabbing his hand and holding his fingers right against your entrance.

Jake shakes his head, feeling nervous as hell as his fingers rest in the one spot he definitely would love to fuck.

“You’re no fun.” You sigh in disappointment, releasing his hand.

That makes Jake panic a little bit, the words of Jay mentioning that you will get bored with him eventually. It drives him to just—

“Brave boy,” You coo out at the feeling of Jake slipping his fingers inside of you through a panicked motion, sliding them in until you can feel his knuckles against your folds. You knew he would give you what you want.“Your fingers are long. Do you know how to use them, Jakey?”

Jake is fucking floored by the idea that his fingers are inside of you, you’re talking to him like this, and Jay is missing out on all of it.

Except he’s not. To Jake’s knowledge, Jay is in dream land. You, on the other hand? You’re very aware that Jay is terrible at pretending to sleep. Not only is he putting on this show for you, but he’s actually helping you.

Kind of a shock, because you really did think he was asleep at one point. He blew his cover with a small smirk towards you, peeking an eye open at your shock of him resting a hand on your other leg and spreading it more in your attempt to get Jake to finger-fuck you. Jay wasn’t going to help out, but the moment he heard Jake reject you, he figured that his best friend can definitely be trusted in this situation.

One of Jay’s favorite things about you is how dirty you can be, but never once has he seen you be more dominant over another person. Certainly not him. He finds it incredibly sexy in the way you both mock and talk down towards Jake even though he’s making you feel good. You don’t do that to Jay, you only moan for him. So yeah, maybe, going against his gut in this situation and allowing Jake to actually touch you is a bit hotter than he wants it to be.

The best part? Jake doesn’t know your cues when you’re nearing orgasm, but Jay does and he uses that to his advantage. Spreading your leg out further so Jake can do whatever it is he’s doing with his fingers better.

Jay softens at the fact that he would have already brought you to orgasm by now. Your soft mews sound more like you’re trying to fluster Jake rather than a reaction to pleasure, and it’s fun. It’s boosting his ego so high that he actually wonders how long it’ll take Jake to get you there.

You feel just as boosted as Jay does right now. With his false sleep as he attempts to help you through this, Jake is half-focused on finger fucking you out of fear that he will be caught. It’s all well and good, but you want to cum.

“Jake,” You whisper loudly, forgetting that you’re supposed to be pretending this is a secret.

When Jake tries to pull his fingers out of you at the loud whisper, ultimately so he could pretend he was just watching the movie and absolutely not burying his fingers into his best friend’s girl, you hold his hand in place. Preventing his fingers from leaving you and you look at him.

“Don’t stop.” You lean into him and whisper in a lower tone, rolling your hips forward against his fingers as you hold them there harshly. “You can make me cum this way, right? I promise I’ll be quiet, just pretend Jay’s not here.”

Jake looks at you, darting his eyes to the sleeping Jay next to you, and then he slowly nods with a nervous swallow.

He wants to fuck you so bad, but this is all he gets. Still, it’s more than he anticipated and he will be damned if he embarrasses himself by not getting you off like this. Gently, Jake keeps his eyes on Jay as he moves slightly over you, getting a better angle with his wrist so that he can quite literally, fuck you senseless with his fingers.

With one hand on the couch over your shoulder, the other between your legs, you watch him as his eyes continuously dart between you and your boyfriend. Jake can’t watch the screen anymore considering he’s now faced away from it, he has to watch you. If this truly was a high-stakes session of pleasure, surely the two of you would be caught like this.

Thankfully, Jake doesn’t notice the very aware hand of Jay gripping your leg open, which makes it more sexy. To see him put your pleasure over his friendship with your boyfriend so willingly, to position himself in such a way that is far more telling than it needs to be, yeah, he’s a fucking simp.

“Oh, fuck–” You choke out, feeling Jake’s newly angled fingers plunge deeper into you. His knuckle bumps against your clit easily when he does this and it has your entire body jolting a bit.

Jake swallows that praise, pulling his fingers out and pushing them back in at a quicker pace. The sound of your pussy is not quite as loud as the movie on the screen, but all three of you can hear it. Even Jay has to hold back a small moan at how genuine you sounded just now. His grip on your leg becomes almost bruising as his own arousal stirs past a comfortable level.

Jake’s eyes aren’t shifting anymore, you notice. As you stare up at him, he stares right back at you. Seemingly forgetting that he’s supposed to be hyper-aware of his surroundings right now. Instead, Jake is noting the way your body slightly shifts up when he harshly pushes his fingers in, to the point he could nearly imagine he’s fucking you.

Except if he were, he would hope to have you moaning more, moving more, fucking yourself on him, using him.

You can practically see Jake lose himself to lust. His eyes are dark, and his messy is hair falling against his lashes as if he were the one being fucked out right now. Internally, you feel such a large amount of endearment over him.

You think back to when he fucked his fist in the car. He was showing an extreme amount of intent during that moment and it had your head fucking spinning watching him do it. You can imagine he must be hard right now. Jay must be hard too. If you wanted to, you could expose Jay for being awake and ask them both to fuck you right now, but you relent. Relishing in this power of having them both, one more unaware than the other. It’s too sweet to put an end to so quickly.

As you look back up at Jake, you want to kiss him. Jay never said anything about that but you assume that could actually be crossing a line, so you don’t. Against your own wishes of wanting to keep this a secret, you lean yourself to Jay who still tries to pretend he’s asleep.

Jake watches and panics, but can already feel you grabbing his hand and forcing him to keep pace. The fear that runs through his bones of being caught is fucking intense right now, especially when you lean your head into Jay’s neck and start sucking it.

You can feel Jake try to pry his hand back and you chuckle at it with an unstoppable smile against your boyfriend’s neck because, well, now Jay moves his hand to replace yours. Now he’s the one forcing Jake to keep pace.

Jake’s eyes widened at the realization, relaxing his hand against the unfamiliar grip on it.

“Wait–” He says in a raspy voice, looking between the two of you as Jay peeps an eyes open. “How long have you been awake?”

Jay drops the act with a motion of slamming Jake’s fingers into you one last time before removing his grip and now grabbing yours to place against his embarrassingly hard length.

“The whole time.” Jay glares at him. “Too late to stop now, go on.” He encourages, wincing at the way you instantly grip him through his pants. “Do as she asked, make her cum.”

Jake feels embarrassed again. Despite technically not actually being “ caught” , he still feels ashamed of what he was doing, yet, his fingers are still in you.

“Let me see if you can do it,” Jay continues, adjusting his body so that he can look down at what Jake is doing. “Move the blanket, baby.” He adds as he looks at you now.

Shoving the blanket down, Jake notes how your hand is palming against Jay, and his fingers are inside of you. For some reason, Jay being hard makes him feel a little less ashamed but still embarrassed. How is he supposed to perform under pressure like this?

“Stop looking at us like that. If you’re not gonna continue, I'll finish her off myself – without you, ” Jay half-insults, half-encourages his best friend.

Jake moves his fingers again at that, the realization of being given permission washing over him so quickly that it almost felt like an orgasm running through his body. He can do whatever he needs to do to make you come. He doesn’t have to hide it, it’s not a secret.

Without a second thought, Jake pulls himself off the couch and stands to his feet to get between your legs. He looks between the two of you one last time and then down at your pajama shorts. For the first time without asking, Jake pulls them off of you in one swift motion before falling to his knees and examining how wet you look, pulsing around the loss of his fingers.

“How does she look?” Jay asks with a quirk of his brow, bucking his hips up against your hand and tilting his head to kiss you on the temple.

Jake says nothing but swallows in response, forcing himself to focus on you and pretend that Jay isn’t there studying the way he fucks his fingers back into you.

When you let out a small whine at his silence, rolling your eyes the same time you roll your hips, Jay chuckles and reaches to pull his own pajama pants down. If you three are gonna be doing this, might as well have fun with it.

Jake ignores it still, using his fingers to spread your lips and watch your hole continue to clench around nothing when he slips his fingers back out. Even without seeing your face at this moment, he can see how much you want this. Your glistening folds are practically begging to be fucked by one of them, if not both. He makes haste, watching as your pussy envelopes three of his fingers at once now, clenching them so tightly that he can feel them crowd together inside of you.

You whimper at it, rolling your hips forward to sink his fingers further into you.

“Can I lick her?” Jake asks, not moving his eyes from the way he can see your slick drip down his fingers.

”Please?”

“Does she want you to?” Jay counters, also not moving his eyes from the way your fist circles the head of his cock before sliding back down and making him shiver.

You don’t even answer, and instead use your other hand to reach for Jake’s head, gripping his hair that’s in reach to you and dragging his face forward until you feel his breath on your clit.

Jake takes that as an invitation, instantly flattening his tongue against your swollen bud and sliding down. You can feel his fingers spreading you open, reaching into you so deeply as you begin to feel his tongue trace around his fingers at your entrance.

You moan, which makes Jay turn his face and lift your chin as if to shut you up from showing pleasure towards another man. You find that sexy, cute even, so you reward your boyfriend and reassure him with a harsher grip against his cock, milking him of his precum and chuckling into his mouth.

Jake doesn’t even care about what’s happening on the couch. He’s on his knees in front of you, tasting you, fingering you, and he genuinely thinks this might be heaven. He can feel his own length adjust in his pants, happy that the loose fabric accommodates the growth to full hardness. Jake already knows he’s not going to be getting off tonight by anything other than his own hand, and he does not give a shit about it.

He licks against you as if you are the last woman on earth, honestly, and Jay can’t even bring himself to be in competition with Jake at this moment considering how much attention you’re giving to him and not Jake. This could work, surely, he’s never seen you so horny over a simple handjob before.

You roll your hips against Jake’s mouth repeatedly, chasing your high as he continuously tries to accommodate every spot of your pussy that needs stimulation.

“He’s good at this–” You choke out, reaching to grab Jake’s head and hold him in place against your clit. You can feel his fingers pick up speed when you do that, and you can feel the vibrations of his groans against your clit even more.

“Oh yeah?” Jay laughs in a breath, darting his eyes to see Jake’s shoulder flexing as he fucks into you, his hair a mess between your fingers. “Better than me?”

You shake your head, eyes sparkling up at Jay as he finally leans down to whisper to you.

“Are you close? You seem close–”

You nod this time, rolling your eyes back a bit when Jake intentionally licks circles around your clit and pumps his fingers painfully fast into you.

“Don’t tell him,” Jay warns, fucking himself against your now loosened grip. “Do you want me to take over?”

You say nothing back but Jay can see your body tense. He makes haste, jumping up from his spot and practically shoving Jake out of the way to get between your legs.

Jake doesn’t even know what’s happening, the loss of your warmth around his fingers and the taste of you gone all too quickly as he watches Jay bottom out into you in one go. His best friend’s fingers replace what his tongue was doing, and Jake watches the way you lay breathlessly against the couch.

Now is his time, he guesses. Reaching one hand into his pants, he shows no shame in using his slick-coated fingers to furiously slide up and down his length at a pace he wishes he were fucking you at.

There, on his knees, Jake pushes and pulls himself to the edge in time with you. He watches your face and watches the way your hands grip against Jay as he fucks into you at a pace that looks painful. The sound of slaps in the room coming from all three of you, finally, you come undone.

He watches the way you hold Jay’s hips in place, burying himself into you as you quiver around him, and only then does Jake let out a choked moan, coating the inside of his pants with strings of thick, milky cum.

Just as quickly as you hit your climax, your eyes lazily fall to Jake as he sits out of breath, wet spots staining his pants as Jay continues to chase his own high.

The two of you look at each other for a long moment. You can’t help but feel that he looks entirely sexy when he’s spent and empty of his arousal. You don’t sense a hint of disappointment in his eyes as he looks back at you, breath uneven, not at all bothered by the fact that he’s not the one fucking you.

Except he is bothered by it. He felt like he came so close to making you cum, all for Jay to step in and take over. Still, that’s your boyfriend. Jake feels lucky enough to even be part of this. And by the time Jay finally gets himself off, all three of you just look at each other.

“So,” Jay sighs, out of breath. “She tastes good, right?” He smiles, proud of himself for not letting Jake make you come.

You playfully slap him with a laugh, shuffling from the couch and standing to your feet. You examine the wet spot from where you were being fucked open by both of them and smile at it.

“Let’s go shower, again.” You sigh, grabbing Jay’s hand and dragging him to the bathroom.

Jake is left sitting there, still on his knees, processing what just happened.

He could get used to this.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By the third night, Jay is geared up and ready knowing full well that Jake has already touched you and he’s going to have to share tonight if your words are anything to go by. If you’re asking him to let Jake fuck you, it’s gonna have to be his way.

Your eyes sparkled when Jay agreed in the silent morning as Jake slept like a fucking rock in the bed across the room.

“Don’t worry,” You assured him. “I love you, I’m just having fun.”

“ I know.” Jay responded to you, silently and looking back at you.

He didn’t worry so much about it after last night, anyway. He got more into it than he thought he would, and the competition of it all got both you and Jay off. Jake appears to be having fun too, and staying aware of the fake-ass boundaries the two of you set for him.

“Tonight?” You look to Jay and nod as you head off for the kitchen in an attempt to make something to eat for both of them.

“Tonight, if he’s willing.” Jay confirms, ultimately stirring Jake from his sleep.

“Good morning, you can sleep. She’s gonna make some food since we got her off or something.” Jay says towards Jake after you disappear from the doorway, lifting his arms and stretching his body out.

“What were you guys talking about?” Jake asks half asleep as he hears your footsteps towards the kitchen fade away. The sleep in his voice is heavy and he clears his throat as he rubs his eyes.

“Nothing much. She wants to play a game later.” Jay tries not to ruin the plan.

“Oh yeah, like what?” Jake sits up, reaching for his phone to check the time.

“Probably monopoly or some shit.”

Jake notes that Jay appears to sound bored of the conversation, so he doesn’t push or pry any longer.

“We going to the beach today?” He asks now, somehow not feeling awkward at all about last night. It almost feels normal now.

“Yeah, probably after we eat. Wanna go help her with me if you don’t plan to go back to sleep?”

Something inside of Jake swells up at the invitation from Jay to help you do mundane things. Boyfriendly things. As if the two of them are your boyfriends, and not just Jay.

“Gonna brush my teeth first.”

Jay nods, giving Jake a tired smile as he heads off into the kitchen after you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake isn’t sure if he’s thinking too hard about it or if he’s getting his hopes up. He’s a lover, not a fighter, and very much willing to share you if the two of you offered to involve him in the relationship with more than just sex. Cooking in the kitchen with the two of you made him happy. Jay was clearly in boyfriend mode, guiding you by the waist when you were wisping from one end of the kitchen to the other. Jake was also kind of in boyfriend mode, though the two of you probably didn’t catch on. It’s not that he’s trying to intrude, it’s just that, he kind of has a hard time fucking a woman and not having feelings after the fact.

When Jake said you looked pretty, Jay didn’t falter even a tiny bit at the compliment. Instead, he smiled at Jake with a nod because of fucking course you look pretty. And when Jay gave you a light kiss to the lips as you stirred something in a bowl, Jake found himself wanting to do the same. He knows he can’t though, so he keeps to himself in this little unsure bubble of what the two of you feel towards him.

The food was decent, save for the fact that none of you have stepped foot in a grocery store and are surviving off of what you brought in a cooler from home. Jake could tell some of the vegetables were wilted and needed to be cooked, thankfully, none of you enjoy letting food go to waste so that’s why you’re stuck eating it this morning.

It’s comfortable. Too comfortable. Especially when Jake takes it upon himself to do the dishes despite always arguing at home about doing them. Jay finds himself in a strange kind of headspace too. Lightening up about the idea of Jake being around and touching you, but also, like, still being possessive because you're super into it. If Jake was anyone else, Jay doesn’t think this trio thing would work out as well. Still, this is a conversation for after the trip.

By the time the three of you are at the beach, you make a show of yourself for both of them and anyone else who happens to be looking your way. If tonight goes anything like you want it to, you need them to be absolutely feral for you by the time the sun sets.

It works for the most part. Ghosting your hand over Jake’s cock under the water, blatantly grabbing Jay’s out in the open just to see him buckle under the arousal of it being in public. You feel on top of the universe as their eyes go from bright to dark and full of arousal as the day goes on.

When you part from both of them, heading back to the shore in order to find a bathroom somewhere, the two of them stay behind. You do your best in giving those two alone time too because surely they need to talk or something.

That, they do.

“She’s doing all of this on purpose, you know.” Jay laughs, wading in the water beside Jake. “How are you feeling about it?”

Jake shrugs, avoiding the incoming wave and lifting his chin with a wince. “I’m feeling less weird about it now, I guess.”

Jay nods, looking at him and studying his expression.

“She wants to fuck you.”

Jake can’t help but smile. He has no words to respond to what Jay just said.

“Shockingly, I kind of want to see her do it.” Jay splashes Jake as if he’s mad, but stands back as his best friend wipes his eyes.

“Yeah?” Jake’s eyes are beaming despite the redness of the saltwater hitting them, and Jay just stares at him.

“I don’t know man, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. Sharing, and such, but like–” Jay tries to explain, searching internally for a reason as to why he should hold onto the annoyance of sharing his girlfriend. “I don’t know.”

Jake tilts his head, looking at him.

“It’s kind of fun?”

Jake nods this time. He’s still getting the short end of the stick but he literally couldn't care less.

“I like watching and I like when you let me touch her.” Jake admits, glancing away and breathing in through an embarrassed wince over what he just said.

For some reason, that sentence arouses Jay. “When you let me touch her.” Jake is really giving full power to Jay to control a sex life that isn’t his and it’s embarrassingly sexy to be given that power over another man. He’s not entirely interested in Jake sexually, but he is entirely interested in Jake’s sexual interest for his girlfriend. Interested in controlling it.

“This is going a lot further than we ever intended it to.” Jay comments, sinking himself lower in the water and thinking intently on what’s going to happen after the three of you get home. “Guess we will see what happens.”

Jake quirks an eyebrow.

“If I asked you to fuck her, would you?” Jay continues, in his head, about why he feels like all of this is okay to him now.

Jake narrows his eyes, wondering if it’s a trap but ultimately nods.

“I mean, yeah, if you both told me to.”

There’s the control again. Jake blatantly gives it up just to get the smallest taste of what you share with Jay.

“And you wouldn’t do it behind my back? Like, be real with me right now.”

Jake knows he would probably be too weak to say no to you. He thinks you know it too.

“What makes you think she would go behind your back anyway?” Jake counters, challenging Jay’s trust in you.

And then it all makes sense. You wouldn’t go behind his back for anything that’s not agreed upon. You’d tell him everything, you’d involve him, or you’d at least ask if you can fuck his best friend behind closed doors.

It all feels like it’s falling into place too perfectly, and that’s the only uncomfortable thing about this. Jay looks at Jake and then shifts his eyes over to the shore, where you’ve come back from your adventure to the bathroom.

“Nah, you’re right.” Jay assures himself, standing back up and waving over to you. “Just keep in mind that she’s my girlfriend and I’ll be the one to make her cum.”

Jake is well aware that you’re not his, Jay doesn’t have to rub it in.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Though Jay never explicitly stated that Jake would be able to fuck you tonight, it became increasingly obvious as the day went on. Even as you blatantly touched him in front of Jay, he would simply avert his eyes from Jake and carry on with whatever he was doing.

By the time the three of you got back to the house, Jake had to fucking fight himself to not jerk off in the shower. Clearly you were wanting to have fun again tonight if the sheer amount of touching throughout the day is any indication.

The showers from all of you went by far too quickly to ignore as well. Jake thinks he beat his record speed of being out and dressed in under six minutes. You and Jay, opting to shower together, made Jake think the two of you would go in there and fuck behind closed doors, but even that didn’t happen as the two of you were leaving the bathroom in under fifteen minutes.

Now, the three of you are in this beach house away from a city that is far too familiar to you. The air feels electric but also slightly awkward. You don’t know how to start, Jay certainly doesn’t know how to start, and Jake simply needs the green light to make his attempt at whatever the fuck is supposed to happen. It’s a knowing kind of look that the three of you share as you head into the bedroom one by one. Jake doesn’t know if he should get onto his own bed, or yours at this point considering he hasn’t exactly been told what’s supposed to happen.

He didn’t have to think too hard though, as he trails in behind Jay who guides you to your own shared bed with him. Jake stands there in silence, watching the way both of you pat your hands on the bed as if to invite him in.

“Shit, this is really happening?” He asks, almost wanting to cover his ears and cringe at the way he breaks the silence. Jay nods to him silently.

“If you want it to?” You ask, scooting closer to Jay and feeling him move a hand to your thigh.

Jake is careful when he makes his way to the bed, glancing at both you and his best friend as if the gig would be up soon and you’d both start laughing at him for believing that this is happening. Instead, though, you adjust yourself and your boyfriend on the bed as Jake makes his attempt to find a space to claim for himself.

Now lying on your back, head on Jay’s lap as you both watch Jake, he sits himself awkwardly on the side of the bed and stares forward.

“Bro, why are you all shy? You literally ate her out last night.” Jay laughs, trying to blame the nervousness all on Jake despite not knowing how to get the ball rolling himself at this point. Then, he’s reaching forward and over you to spread your legs out. Your bathrobe does little to hide the lack of material underneath, already bare and ready for both of the men in the room.

“I don’t know–” Jake argues, glancing over at you and instantly drawing his eyes to what’s beneath the robe. He tries to look away with a gulp of whatever the fuck he was going to say next, but ends up double taking at the view of you being presented to him by Jay. “I’ve never done this before…” He trails off, voice coming to a whisper as he shamelessly stares and the arousal begins to take full hold of his body.

You shift your hips a bit, as if to grind yourself against nothing to show that just like him, you can be desperate too.

“Fuck,” Jake sighs out, shifting his body fully onto the bed and facing you. “I–”

“Go on.” Jay encourages, noting the way his friend is practically drooling at the image of you in front of him like this. Proud of himself for having a girlfriend so fucking alluring.

“Should I just,” Jake stops, looking at Jay and avoiding eye contact with you. “touch her? like, what are my limits?’

Jay honestly doesn’t care what he does as long as you want it but, what he’s damn sure won’t happen is Jake getting head from you. He can eat you out all he wants but your mouth is to never be on him in any way, shape, or form without being told to do it by Jay himself.

“Help him out.” You comment, flicking your head back a bit to look at Jay from under your lashes. He smirks at you and responds with a small nod.

“Remember, you can just tell us to stop if you change your mind.” Jay directs towards Jake as he leans forward and pulls him closer to you by his arm.

Jake falls a bit, on all fours right between your legs as he stares down at your folds. He says nothing in response to Jay, now lost in the world of getting to taste you again and wondering how many more times he will be granted permission to do this.

“Stick your tongue out and use it, Jake.” Jay demands in a slightly…off tone? One that seemingly makes fun of Jake for not having touched you yet.

Jake listens, granting Jay a nice little ego boost as he hums from behind you at your sharp inhale when Jake kisses against your clit. Still, this is going to happen his way and if Jake thinks he can eat pussy well, he’s about to learn.

Jay leans forward, your body leaning with him as he harshly grabs Jake’s hair, pressing his lips against you harder, guiding his head up and down. “Stick your tongue out more–” Jay demands again, gripping his hair harder.

Strangely enough, Jake allows it. He sticks his tongue out the moment Jay demands it, and allows himself to be guided by the hair against your pussy. He groans out against you, tasting you again despite it not being of his own free will. Would Jake prefer eating you out the way he wants to? Absolutely. Does the feeling of having his head guided between your legs also kind of get him off? Oh, fuck yeah. All he has to do is imagine it’s your hand doing it.

You, however, watch as Jay pulls Jake up, still by the hair, and looks at him.

“Tongue fuck her, I’ll take care of the rest.” He says, releasing Jake and watching the way he sinks down between your legs again.

Making it easier for him, you prop your legs on his shoulders, ultimately boxing Jake in against your wet and glistening hole. It isn’t long before you feel his tongue circling, inserting against your walls. It’s not a lot to go off of, but god he looks so good between your legs like this. The image only gets better when Jay unties the loose knot of your robe and pinches against one of your nipples, his other hand going straight to your clit and rubbing it just the way you like.

“Can you cum like this for him?” Jay asks against your ear, holding you against him with his hand still playing against your nipple. “Let him really taste you?”

You nod to him with a moan, shifting your hips as if to fuck yourself on Jake’s tongue. Each pinch against your nipple sends a sensation straight to where you’re being stimulated the most, and yeah, you can definitely cum on Jake’s tongue if he keeps trying to reach as deeply as he is now.

Jay’s fingers are expert when it comes to your body, he could have you falling apart right here, right now if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He watches, instead, the way you tighten your legs around Jake’s head to pull him in closer. The way his best friend doesn’t even come up for air is laughable, but he gets it.

It’s the fact that for the first time, Jay kind of enjoys the idea of a man touching what’s his, solely because he can see how badly they want it. Knowing that he, himself, can do it whenever he wants and they can’t.

When your boyfriend rubs your clit faster, it has you chasing Jake’s tongue harder , and when you chase Jake’s tongue, he makes a point to lick every crevice you have to offer in order to entice moans and groans of his name from your mouth.

When you start to tense up, Jay knows exactly what it means. He lurches forward again and pulls Jake away from you, reaching back just as quickly to rub your clit harder.

“Watch her cum,” Jay smiles, abusing your clit just the way you love it until your legs are shaking and falling from Jake’s shoulders. “Keep your tongue out.”

“Shit–” Jake sighs out, watching your cunt drip out its continuous orgasm. Without any indication from the two of you, he takes the risk and dips back down, tongue lapping up the mess of your arousal and humming against your folds in a beautiful and desperate mantra.

“Oh god–” You choke out, jolting from the sensitivity of his tongue toying with you, Jay continuing to press your orgasm further, not relenting even as sensitivity takes hold.

Jake licks up every single bit of it and Jay watches him, feeling you continuously quiver in his grasp as you come down from the high.

“Now, fuck her.” Jay smiles knowingly, looking down at you and the way you already look dazed.

Jake shoots his head up to look at Jay, instantly he’s nodding and practically throwing his pants off. A true desperate show of how much he wants to be inside of you.

Both you and Jay examine Jake when he pulls his cock out. You’ve seen it before but never in its full glory. He’s big.

Jay glances down at you with an ‘are you sure you wanna do this?’ look and all you can do is chuckle and wiggle your hips as if to entice Jake to fuck you so senseless that Jay appears to be jealous again. It wouldn’t take much, really, because Jay is jealous right now. He needs to make damn sure you know that his cock is the only one that can make you scream, regardless of length, or whatever. He’s still thicker than Jake is.

Jake watches the two of you share looks and instantly gets a bit shy, doesn’t change the fact that he’s gently jerking himself off in preparation though.

“Condom?” Jake asks, obviously.

“No,” You say, nudging him closer again with your leg. “Im on the pill and you live with us, I know for a fact that you haven’t been fucking around.”

More shy now, Jake averts his eyes as he shuffles his way closer, all the way until he can feel his cock pressed against your leg. In one last attempt before he goes off the deep end, he looks to Jay for approval and is granted it almost instantly with a nod.

He slides in, painfully slow in your opinion, but to Jake it’s like he’s trying to feel each ridge, clench, and wall around him as he does it. You wince only a little at the size, taking a deep breath and grabbing Jay’s hand when he bottoms out.

Jake attempts to let you adjust, but it doesn’t go as smoothly as he wants to because the second he pulls his hips back, he’s slamming into you with a force he didn’t even know he had. The sounds you let out as he does this has Jay going fucking insane, you can feel his cock against your back continuously twitching as Jake fucks into you.

Only when you keep your eyes on his best friend does Jay move from under you, replacing himself with two pillows as he stands at your side.

“Stop looking at him like that,” He demands, lowering his pants enough to let his cock spring free and in front of your face. “Look at me.” He continues, stroking himself as he stares down at you.

This is what you want. You want them to fight for your attention right now. Thankfully to Jay, Jake is in his own world, head thrown back as he continuously plunges into you with the obvious need of a man who hasn’t had sex in months.

You stare up at Jay then allow your eyes to fall to his pulsing and raging length in his hand, without hesitation you open your mouth for him.

“Good girl,” He praises, setting his cock on your tongue and allowing you to feel the weight of it before he slowly slides further into your mouth. “How does it feel to be fucked from both ends?” Jay asks with a bit of a demeaning tone. “Is it everything you ever wanted?” He asks again, this time sliding further down your throat before taking hold of your head and holding it in place.

You have no reason to answer his questions, because he already knows the answer judging from the sound of how wet you are. He can fucking hear it.

“I bet it is.” He continues through a sigh, effectively fucking your mouth open much like his best friend is doing to your pussy.

One thing Jake doesn’t seem to catch onto is the fact that both you and Jay are talkers during sex. Jake, not so much, so when your mouth is gagged by a cock, he has no choice but to listen to Jay talk to you.

Jake’s hips stutter only slightly when you gag around your boyfriend, all because that gag appears to travel down your body. Your cuntclenches him so tightly that he could honestly start crying right now if it wouldn't end with him being made fun of.

So fucking tight, practically choking him out by the cock.

“Do that again–” Jake pleads, gripping your legs and spreading them away from his hips. He angles himself a bit more by placing both hands under your ass and pressing into you again, this time stilling his hips so he can feel your walls jerk him off.

Jay smirks, not knowing what the fuck Jake is referring to.

“Do what again? Gag her?” He asks, jolting his hips forward and again sliding down your throat.

You gag, and your pussy constricts.

“Goddamn, yes, that.” Jake chokes out in a sigh, trying to press his cock into you even deeper.

Jay looks down at you and the way your eyes start to glisten with tears. He knows they’re good tears, especially with the way you try to smile around his cock.

“So dirty,” He compliments, sliding out of your mouth and wiping a tear from your cheek. “This okay?” He continues, knowing you like it, but he still needs to get that confirmation considering this is new to all three of you.

You nod with a moan and a deep breath, grabbing his drenched length and sinking it straight back down your throat. Jay seethes a string of curses when you do that. You’re too fucking good at deep-throating and it’s driving him up a fucking wall how hot you are right now.

Being fucked open is one thing, but being fucked open from both ends is another. Even with Jake practically cockwarming himself in you, you can feel how rock hard he is with each twitch and aroused pulse, his length consistently putting pressure against your g-spot. God, you feel so full.

Jay elicits gags from you again, pulls out so you can breathe, and then goes right back to fucking your mouth at his own pace. Jake, on the other end, has since lost all form of self control with your last gag. You’re dripping around him, clenching him so fucking tightly, he can’t help it when he grips your ass firmly and essentially gags you himself with how hard he begins to piston his hips. Even Jay is thrown off by the way you stop sucking and your mouth goes slack.

He slides out of your mouth, listening as a drawn out moan of Jake’s name comes from your lips.

“Look at her–” Jay glares, forcing Jake to slow his hips and look at you. “Look at how good you’re making her feel.” He adds again, only slightly more aroused than he is threatened by your expression.

Jake is looking, watching as your eyes fall to him and you buck your hips up as if to ride yourself on him.

“God, please Jay, can she ride me?” Jake loses composure, slipping his hands out from under your ass and grabbing your waist.

Jay doesn’t even get to answer the firm “no” he was intending because he can see you look at him with pleading eyes just like his best friend. It sucks to have all of this power but still not be able to say no to those pretty fucking, tear stained eyes when you look at him like this. What’s worse?

The way Jake is looking at him is arguably…just as fucking hot.

And so, Jay bows his head in approval and wonders when the fuck he became the third wheel in his own relationship, that is, until you sit yourself up, push Jake back, and settle yourself on his thighs.

You don’t move as you look at your boyfriend, your pleading eyes now turning to concern as he stands by himself off of the bed. For some reason, it comforts him.

Jay smiles at you softly, kind of like a small confirmation that he’s doing just fine, and then moves forward to further that confirmation for you.

“She takes it so well, right?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, getting behind you on the bed and settling down with his cock in hand. “Go on, ride him, baby.”

So you do, rolling your hips forward and backwards in a way that has Jake slipping in and out of you with ease. He can feel you drip onto his legs and honestly, he’s in fucking heaven right now as he places both hands on your thighs and stares directly at his cock disappearing inside of you.

It’s a shame really, considering being ridden is one of Jake’s weaknesses.

“Can I cum in her?” Jake blurts mindlessly, his hips attempting to fuck into you despite your weight on him keeping his hips down. “Jay, please? Can I cum in her?”

His questions come out frantic, pleading for the ability to release his control and absolutely let you fuck him into oblivion, but he waits, now halting your hits from moving as if to contain the load he’s about to release without permission.

“What if I say no?” Jay laughs, gripping his cock and watching the way Jake twitches inside of you.

You move your hips again, a small chuckle lightly coming out alongside Jay as Jake hits rock bottom and somehow spirals further down.

“Shit, shit!” Jake groans, urging you to lift up a bit as he painfully begins to slam into you.

Jay can hear his cum seeping out of you with each plunge of his cock, he can see it spurt out of you and down Jake’s legs. God damn it’s way hotter than he anticipated it being.

Without a second thought Jay is pulling himself up and positioning himself behind you. He doesn’t say a word as he presses the small of your back forward so that your tits press against Jake’s face, and prods his cock at your entrance. Right there beside Jake, he slides in with an uncomfortable stretch.

“This is how you fuck my girlfriend.” Jay groans, feeling your pussy hug around his cock and his best friend’s. He can already feel Jake going soft from the recent orgasm, but he doesn’t relent. Jay starts moving his hips regardless, fucking Jake’s released load back into you with an impossible stretch.

Honestly, Jay is on cloud 9 listening to both of you whine and moan. Neither of you stopping him, and even Jake finds the sensitivity of his cock being fucked against as insanely pleasurable as it is painful.

You’re staring down at Jake when you slightly lift, and he’s looking up at you as Jay continuously stimulates you both. At this moment, you’re both in this together and Jay has full control. Deserving control, you think. Smiling at Jake, you drop your head to his neck and start talking.

“You felt so good,” You praise him, moaning at the way Jay slams into you. “Can you get hard again?”

Jake simply nods because he cannot, for the life of him, think of words right now. He’s already feeling his arousal coming back to him. Even Jay feels it, in the way his softening cock manages to get hard again within mere minutes. He’s never been able to get hard again that quickly, but then again, Jake was practically pussy starved so he doesn’t question it.

The fit inside of you grows tighter and tighter as Jake’s cock wakes up to the overstimulation, all the way until all three of you are wincing at the drag of Jay continuously fucking into you. The sound of moans, slick, and heavy breathing is all that can be heard when Jake moves his hips at an opposite rhythm of Jay.

“Oh, fuck yes–” Jay moans, throwing his head back and looking down at how stretched open you are with two cocks stuffed inside of you. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good–” He babbles on, praising you, or Jake, he doesn’t even know at this point.

Overstimulated, his cock feels as though your cunt has a death grip on it as he continues to squeeze along size Jake’s length, your wet and sore walls clenching them so tightly that Jay barely has to move at all to feel like he’s fucking the daylights out of you.

Jake’s small thrusts only push the orgasm to the edge for both you and Jay. The head of Jake’s cock drags alongside Jay’s with each thrust and it has him nearly gasping for air when his orgasm hits him.

Jake hasn’t stopped moaning since Jay fit himself into you, nor have you. Who has control in this situation? Not a single person, not even Jay, as he frantically bottoms himself out and shoots his cum against the impossibly tight space inside of you. Jay’s orgasm ignites yours, your g-spot having been stimulated this entire time, you nearly squeeze so hard that they both are forced out of you, but they fight the sensation, continuing to bury themselves into you through your high.

Pained gasps drag on and all you can feel are fingertips both clawing and squeezing at you when you release around them, squeezing both of them tighter, and tighter, until Jay has no choice but to slip his spent cock out of you.

You slump over instantly, your walls fitting themself back around Jake’s still hard length inside of you.

Jake struggles to orgasm again, unsure of if he has any cum left after the first one, so he pulls out of you the moment Jay shoots a look at him, as if to tell him to stop. Still in his aroused state of mind though, Jake practically shoves you back onto Jay as he works himself up to whatever orgasm he has left by his own hand.

It takes a moment, but you feel his second load hitting against your thighs not long after and all that’s left to do now is assess the damage.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

There was no damage. Even as Jay apologetically begs you to tell him the truth. To tell him he went too far, or was too rough. You liked it, and you hate that you have to convince him of it.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jay asks, kissing you once on the back of your neck after you nod with a dazed smile. “And you?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, who is sprawled out regaining his breath at the foot of your bed.

“I’m great, actually.” He says, looking over to Jay with a dopey kind of smile.

“You’re both insane.” Jay finally releases a breath of relief, realizing how much you and his best friend have in common sexually.

It’s…weirdly endearing, making his heart swell at the way both you and Jake look at him expectantly. Like still, he has control over all three of you.

“You didn’t like it?” You ask, and Jake nods along with your question to look at Jay.

“Of course I fucking liked it.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Jake asks, sitting himself up now and pretending he doesn’t get a headrush almost instantly.

Jay thinks hard about it. Is there even an issue? Did he ever expect to actually share his girlfriend with Jake this way? Of course not, but it doesn’t change the fact that all three of you enjoyed every bit of that. Plus, Jake doesn’t appear to be super competitive and listens to everything Jay says to do.

Who wouldn’t be turned on by that kind of control anyway?

・・・・・・ EPILOGUE ・・・・・・

Jake has become a constant fixture in your sexual relationship with Jay now, but he doesn’t step out of line much to Jay’s pleasure. Even now, months down the road from the beach vacation, all three of you came to terms with the fact that Jake wants to stay, and so do the two of you.

Rent is split three ways, you’re split two ways, but you get it all. Truly, you feel like you have the best end of this bargain. Even now, Jay tends to have more private sex with you as if to avoid constantly living in the world of kinks and pushing boundaries. You enjoy it. You love sharing moments with him without Jake around, and even when Jake does walk in on it, he doesn’t stay most of the time because now, when it’s meant to be for all three of you, Jake is blatantly invited. He knows now that any sex he isn’t aware of isn’t for him, despite it being the complete opposite from before.

It’s a comfortable kind of thing. Even if the three of you don’t talk about it outside of these walls, it’s what you like, it’s what they like. Even Jay has loosened up a bit more about you and Jake together. It’s not like you’re dating him, but your boyfriend has actually implied you go busy yourself with Jake when he’s exhausted or too tired to fuck you himself. If anything, when you do go and busy yourself with Jake, Jay usually ends up watching anyway.

“Jake,” Jay says from across the room after yet another session of cuckolding his girlfriend and best friend. “I hope you know that she’s still my girlfriend and I will always be the one to fuck her better.”

“You’re really gonna say that after I just made her cum twice before you even got your cock out?” Jake laughs.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Jay glares but Jake can see his smile.

“I know. You keep her happy.” Jake drops the playful act and decides to genuinely let Jay know.

“Unfortunately, your cock is required for her happiness sometimes.”

“No, his cock is required for fun. You are required for my happiness.” You interject, reminding them that you’re literally still in the room, heaving from your third orgasm.

“And that’s why this little arrangement works out.” Jay agrees, lifting himself to kiss you. “Only I get your love and affection. Jake just gets 30% of your orgasms.”

“10% of yours too, apparently.” Jake shifts his eyes to Jay.

Jay does remember the few times he’s let Jake fuck you and grew so aroused by how you act with his best friend in contrast to himself, that yeah, he guesses he can give Jake and his huge cock some credit for making him cum a few times, but really, it’s because he’s seeing his girlfriend stretched out and cock stupid, definitely because they both whine in unison over him.

At the end of the day, it’s cute, especially because Jake can still never fuck you as good as he will. You may be cock-stupid for his size, but you’re cock-drunk for how Jay works it inside of you.

And so, it appears that Jay is in a happy relationship with you, a healthy one. One where he’s perfectly comfortable cleaning his best friend’s cum out of you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #park jongseong smut #enha smut #jay smut #jake smut

1K notes · View notes

deadsetobsessions · 5 months

Text

AU List

Hello! Welcome! This is my attempt at keeping the AU's boiuncing around in my head in order. They should be mostly in chronological order.

Some of them are getting turned into full length fics! The list (and it's open to suggestions) can be found here: Fic List

A couple of things:

Please feel free to write your own fics based on any of these! No need to ask, simply link it so I can also read it <3

If you have any specific scenarios you have an idea for and would like me to write- my asks/prompts are always open! I can't guarantee quality as I do most of my writing at like, 3 AM but I'll try my best!

I don't condone racism, bigotry, homophobia, etc.. I do not welcome it here. I acknowledge that I have biases that I've yet to unlearn. If there's something that makes you feel unwelcome in the things I write, please let me know and I will fix it ASAP.

I write these mostly on little to no sleep (that’s when I get creative I guess?) so good luck.

Update: Apparently you can have too many links on one post (which was news to me) so the links are in the titles lol

Squatter!Danny Phantom Raises Tim

Tim 'self-preservation instinct of a wet paper bag' finds Danny Phantom squatting in his house as an injured vigilante and they immediately adopt each other.

Ghost King and the Justice League

Different scenarios where the Justice League (and extensions) deal with a Ghost King Danny Phantom, who generally just wants to get some sleep and avoid his paperwork like he avoids his problems- actively and indiscriminately.

Alcoholic! Danny Adopts Jason Todd (Fic)

Danny Phantom, a struggling alcoholic, finds his way into Gotham where he adopts a young Jason Todd... after accidentally making a name for himself, again.

Spider in Gotham (Fic)

Peter Parker found himself unceremoniously dumped into Gotham and merged with his younger, formerly dead, alternate self.

Gotham! Danny and His Bats

Different scenarios wherein which Danny Phantom is Gotham's city spirit and the task of wrangling Gotham's vigilante and villainous population is laid at his feet.

Danny in Gotham

Somehow, somewhen, Danny finds himself moving to Gotham. Other than the aesthetics, Danny finds it to be pretty similar to Amity Park's insanity.

Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom

Danny Phantom cleans beaches in his off time. One day, he has to pick Batman (and his plane that was littered all over the ocean floor) out of the sea.

Danny Gets Yeeted (Yoted?) Into Gotham

Danny Phantom dented the Batmobile and got an adoption, vigilante siblings, and a gang of kids following him for his troubles/

Danielle "Dani/Ellie" Phantom

Danielle Phantom travelled to Gotham. Gotham encounters a wild Danny amidst its tall towers.

Timothy Drake-Centric

When Tim Drake is set on something, very little can stop him, With sub catergories : Reincarnated as Gamer! Timmy Drake (fem Tim)(Fic) and New Tim-line, Who Dis?

Reincarnated as Damian Wayne's Older Sister

Based on a nightmare, an OC finds themself reincarnated as Damian Wayne's older sister. She does not have a good time.

Prompts Found

A collection of prompts found and filled. Includes Triplet Tim and Reverse Trope Prompt.

Misc. ficlets and thoughts

My brain vs. whatever errant thoughts and ideas that decided to pop up when I'm trying to sleep.

1K notes · View notes

studioghibelli · 2 months

Text

the old man and the sea- a joel miller x reader fic

summary: grief is a sacred thing, a nasty thing, a sensual thing. it grips you from the inside until there's nothing left but a void of darkness- a void that can never be filled. joel miller knows this fact very well, and all he wants to do is save you.

warnings: girthed up age gap (college age!reader x 50’s age joel), i’m exploring a new type of writing ok let me COOK!!!! idk i am delusional, reader has hair that at least reaches her neck, cigarette use, this whole thing is basically an allegory for grief and growing but there also a lot of sexy smut soooo yeah. (mentions of death and two brief mentions of suicide, but nothing too detailed.) that being said, smut (f receiving oral sex, soft kissy missionary sex, unprotected piv sex, some 'dirty' talk, etc.)

note: this has NOT been proofread or edited. any mistakes are mine. i just hate going back and editing lmao. enjoy! xx

In the august days of your youth, when the rocky line of the coast line glimmered beneath the flame of the sun, when the foamy waves would pool by your sandy feet, you could remember the towering lighthouse just south of the beach, the way it stood tall and proud, like the statues of Roman soldiers you knew from your school encyclopedias. It was vibrant and alive, no more dead than the clams bubbling beneath the surface of the ocean, no more dead than the bellowing of the whales far off the shore.

You remember how it would speak to you, late at night when you would walk alone, hoping to catch the light reflecting off the tail of a pretty mermaid, hoping that the local legends of talking fish would come poke their heads above the water, speaking to you in riddles from days gone by.

You remember the words of the light which shone strong from above, circling above your head , like the passing lights of a traveling carnival, your eyes caught like a moth roaming towards the flames, lost in the eternal beauty of its golden light.

Come to me, child. Let the lighthouse unburden your pain.

But back then, when you were quick to scare despite your steadfast stubbornness, you never garnered enough courage to explore behind its walls.

Now college had passed, and you moved back home to your parent's rickety beach house, alone behind her comforting wooden exterior. This home. This home that was once so full of life. This home that held warm laughter and late night board games. This home that housed your closest friends and their secrets of crushes and undeciphered dreams. This home where you grew into a young woman full of life and beauty, clever and brilliant.

This home that was now empty.

You had got the call the week after finals.

We're so sorry, they went out fishing and a storm came. We never found them.

Oh, yes.

Adventure pumped through your veins, the taste for freedom like salty water on your tongue. You knew where you got it from, you always had. Your sweet family, your loving parents. Full of life like that lighthouse, full of of love like the sun.

Now they were nothing, and this house was nothing. Those years of laughter and secrets and adventure were nothing.

Nothing.

Your favorite word these days.

Going through belongings and shuffling through old books had taken almost a weeks worth of tears. Hot, tepid, angry tears.

How dare they leave you alone? How dare they forsake you like this?

The thought of crashing water and striking lightning was almost too much to bare.

When the storm had rolled in that morning, you had been tucked away in the alcove of your kitchen, nursing a steaming mug that was more cream than coffee. You watched the droplets of rain paint pictures on the window, you watched nature wring her tears across the fluttering branches of trees, cracking soft splashes across the pavement with each gust of air. Your chest felt heavy with thoughts of them.

Mom and dad.

Mamma and papa.

Perhaps it was in hopes you would feel some comfort, perhaps it was in hopes you would feel whole. If you could just stare out at the ocean that took them, maybe they would speak to you. Maybe those fairytale fish would poke their heads up from the water and exclaim to you how happy your parents were, how they were fitting right in, how they had invited Mrs. Dolphin over for tea last Saturday, and how they were finally warming up to the funny shark that always lurked in the seaweed.

You stood barefoot on the cragged rock, staring out at the roaring waves, with nothing but the lull of distant seagulls and the song of incoming thunder.

No fish. No parents. No Mrs. Dolphin. Just another season of storms and a crater in your heart.

Your throat was raw from all the screaming. You danced to your fight song as you let the rain take you, your clothes felt like skin from how soaked through they were. Heavy drapes of fabric that cemented you in place on that cragged rock. That cragged rock that dripped with the blood of your raw heels, your toes scraped and ruined from the sandy surface.

It was dark by the time the storm rolled out, dark by the time your back found the safety of the sand, dark by the time your hair clung to your neck and became tangled up with the seashells.

There was a glowing orb of light far off in the distance that you could just make out through the hazy fog of your eyelashes, and you realized it was growing closer, the old handle of a lantern creaking through the night.

"Hello?" The voice was rough and unknown to your ears, yet held a certain warmth despite the weariness.

"Yes?" You asked softly, refusing to open your eyes. If you opened your eyes, all of this was real, all of this was raw, all of this was right there.

"Are you.... okay?"

"Yes."

The lantern creaked once more, and you heard the shuffle of fabric as the man leaned forward, pressing his knuckles to your cheek. "You're colder than a reindeer's antlers, girl." His touch was warm, his hand a welcome solace from the rain. "You live around here?"

You didn't want to go back to that house. You didn't want to smell their detergent or see their old clothes. You didn't want to waltz through that kitchen or hear the creak of those old stairs.

Perhaps it was from the way your lip quivered, from the rain or from the cold, perhaps it was from the defeat in your voice, or the weightlessness of your soul, but the man before you knew he had to do something about it. How could he not? You were laying there like a pile of unfolded laundry, and no one else was around to fold it all.

You felt an arm slip behind your back.

"C'mon, stand up with me. On three."

You groaned softly, using a thick arm as leverage as the mystery man helped you stand off the ground. When you opened your eyes, you saw a pair of umber orbs staring at you, tracing over your face, every line, scar, freckle, dent, he was soaking you in like a sponge, as though he wanted to know your face just from memory.

"I'm Joel."

Joel.

He was handsome, that was the first thing you noticed about him. You felt your stomach churn at the feeling, angry you could find him so beautiful, despite the darkness which shrouded over you. Joel was broad and rugged, no doubt rough around the edges. He was adorned with various scars and random freckles, with thick eyebrows and broad shoulders, plush lips and kind eyes- hardened by time, no doubt, but beautiful all the same.

You know you mumbled your name out somewhere along the walk, eyes cloudy with tears. It was a miracle you managed to speak anything at all.

As you neared the lighthouse, you realized just how foreboding it truly was. Its paint was cracking, yet its foundation remained firm, and it towered up into the clouds like a Medieval castle. Behind it's white structure you saw a small cabin, warm light seeping through the misty windows, painting the green grass with splatters of sunshine.

When Joel opened the door, an old dog sitting in front of the fireplace lifted his head, the soft thump of a tail beating against the wooden floors. His fur was gray and his eyes were old, his long fur a mixture of brown, black, and white patches. Like a makeshift quilt.

Quilts. Your mother used to make those.

"That's Moby." Joel explained, setting a kettle on the old gas stove. "Sit down. You're trailing blood." You felt embarrassment creep up your neck, and he must have noticed the way your eyes darted with shame. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. Let me fix up your cuts. I-.... I wasn't trying to be a dick." He spoke like this was his first time having human interaction in a decade, and by the way he moved, you might have been right.

He fumbled through drawers and cabinets, eventually finding a metal first aid kit that had begun resting at the edges years ago. Joel pulled up a dining room chair in front of you with a loud screech, peering up at you as he shuffled through the remnants of the kit.

"What were you doing out there?" He asked, gently grabbing your ankle. He guided it to his lap, inspecting the raw flesh of your soles.

"Exploring."

"Exploring what?"

"Myself."

You felt his shoulders jerk with a bit of a laugh. Normally, you would not have gone home with a stranger. Normally, you would not have let a random man place your legs on his lap or nurse you up.

But then again, nothing was normal anymore. Normal was home. Normal was family. Normal was homecooked meals and late night board games and sleepovers and secrets and.... well, none of this.

The hot stream of tears threatened the dam that rest just above your waterline. Joel noticed, but he didn't say anything.

His calloused thumb rested on the side of your foot, the sting of alcohol soaked pads causing you to wince.

"I know." He muttered through an unlit cigarette which dangled from his mouth, the lines of his forehead prominent with each movement he made. "There we go. Right one's done. Let me see the left."

You obeyed wordlessly, gently propping it up onto his thigh. He repeated his previous work until that foot was cleaned and patched.

Joel stared at you. The tea kettle behind him was whistling for attention, its top sputtering from the roaring boil of water.

"Earl gray or green?" He asked as he rummaged for two cups, blowing the dust off of one. You watched Joel stare at one of the cups for a beat too long.

"Earl gray." You croaked, blinking hard. You felt wetness by your hand. When you looked down, the black nose of a dog was pressing into your palm. Your fingers found his fur, rubbing that spot right behind his ear that made his back leg go crazy. Who couldn't smile at that?

Moby laid down, his fur a puddle at the base of your chair as he rested his snout atop your foot. You stared at him, welcoming the softness of his body against yours.

"Moby is a sweet dog. He's old. Rarely gets up from that bed." Joel explained, handing you a cup. The words World's Best Dad were fading at the sides. This cup must have been older than you.

"I like him." You let the liquid glide down your throat with each sip, savoring the warmth it provided you. At the first sign of a shiver, Joel had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.

"Why are you being so kind to me? You don't even know me."

Joel sat back down across from you with a soft groan, the ache in his bones creaking like an old, rusting elevator shaft. "I do know you."

"Have we met before?" Your eyebrow raised with interest, and you looked at him wearily, trying to deduce what he was up to.

"No. But I know what grieving looks like." There was a long pause before Joel decided to speak again. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"What? No!" You guffawed, neck snapping up to shoot him a scowl. "Of course not."

"Look. If you walked up on a half dead, soaking wet person on the shore, during the aftermath of a storm, you'd be thinking the same thing." He defended himself sternly, setting his cup down.

There was a thick moment of quietness.

"Those were your parents, weren't they?" His voice was barely a whisper. It floated through the air like smoke off a candle, hitting you in the face.

"Yes."

"It was all over the news. Loads of us went out there, tried to find them."

"They're out there somewhere. Fish food." Your voice was bitter.

Joel didn't say anything. He just sat and stared. You stared back.

It became a ritual after that night. You were over there every evening, usually with a paper bag full of groceries and treats for Moby. You taught Joel how to make Paprikash and Japchae, you taught Moby how to fist bump with his nose (old dogs can learn new tricks), and you taught yourself how to laugh again.

Laughing. Such an odd thing to do in the aftermath of grief. Such a weird feeling to allow ones self to feel after weeks of chaos.

And Joel, he had his uses too.

Joel taught you how to do a fishtail braid, he taught you how to use a fly rod, and what the inside of a lighthouse looks like. Joel taught you how to smile again, he taught you what the feeling of freedom felt like once more.

Summer faded into autumn, and the orange and yellow trees began to paint the prettiest of pictures on the canvas of the coast. It held a certain nostalgia that summer had always failed to do for you, and the promise of apple cider and pumpkin scented candles floated through with every passing day.

It had taken some convincing, but Joel had swayed in to your demands, and you both sat at a tiny table in a tiny cafe, the steaming pumpkin latte swirling between his hands.

"So?"

He stared at it for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It's.... not half bad."

"Well, well, well. Looks like I was right. I knew you'd like it." You smiled through your victory, drinking your own iced coffee.

"I haven't been here in years." Joel explained, looking around at the decorations. Local art, framed photographs, and signed albums adorned the exposed brick walls, the glowing salt lamps on each table bathing the air with warm, orange light.

"You've been here before?" This coffee shop was old, you knew that much, but even when you were younger and frequented its counter with your high school friends, you can't remember ever seeing him here. And this was a small town- you knew you would have remembered his face, despite the wrinkles and grays. He still would have been Joel.

"Over two decades ago. Sarah loved this place."

"Sarah?"

His upper lip twitched at the sound of her name. Joel looked at you with heavy eyes, glossed over with the mark of grief. The kind of grief that settles in to your body as though it's its home, the kind of grief that sits beside you on the couch and never leaves. The kind of grief you were learning to grow beside.

"My daughter."

The air hung above your heads like a rainy cloud, thick and desultory. It fell across your shoulders like a fur coat, and you struggled to shake it all away.

"I didn't know that you..." Words were useless. They always were when it came to matters like this.

Joel drank his coffee in silence, tracing the ridges of the wooden table out with his eyes. "Don't like talking about her."

"We don't have to."

"Yes, we do." His voice was stern as he looked up at you, your gaze connecting. Joel's eyes were far away, searching for something in the recesses of his memory, or perhaps gaining the courage to speak to you.

"I've been alone for over twenty years." His voice was softer than you had ever remembered it being. "And then.... you were there. Just there. Laid out on the shore like a beached mermaid, shivering in the moonlight. I didn't know you... but I knew you. You were me in that moment. I had been you."

Your lips were pressed into a tight, thin line, and you watched as he spoke. There was a subtle shake to Joel's hands as he picked at his thumb nail, a tick you had picked up on the first week you had known him. The bouncing of his knee vibrated through the table.

"I know what grief is. I know the stain it leaves on someone's face. It was all over you.. just-just dripping."

You hadn't noticed the tears welling in your eyes.

Joel reached over, his palm engulfing your cold hand like a blanket, warming your skin up with his touch. He laced your fingers tight in to his own, cradling your palms close between his two hands.

"I know what all this does to a person. How it rots, how.... how it erodes. I knew I needed to help you."

"What's why you took me back to your house."

"Yes. That's why I bandaged you up, that why I made you tea, that's why I let you keep coming back. Because I wanted to help you, because I lov-"

"Are we doing okay over here?" A barista walked up with a smile, a tray in hand. "I'm just going to take these empty cups away! It's such a beautiful day outside."

You managed to shoot her a smile.

As she walked away, Joel continued staring at you, and there was a sense of something..... else in his eyes.

"Lets go back home? To- well, uh, to my home."

You nodded silently, letting go of his hands as you both walked out the door.

There was something unspoken between Joel and you, and it had settled between the two of you over the months. You knew that he knew, and Joel knew that you knew, yet it was never brought up, it was never allowed to spoken out loud. If it was spoken out loud, then it became real, and if it became real, then it would end up being a burden. Or a promise. Or a nightmare. Or a dream. Or a beautiful, welcoming, loving thing that lasted until the day you died.

How terrifying was that?

You don't know when you had started holding Joel's hand, but the walk back to the lighthouse was quiet and chilly.

Because I lo-

His words echoed through your skull with every single step you took along the cobbled path.

Lo, lo, lo, lo. Love? Loathe? Long? Look?

Your chest compressed against itself as your thoughts wandered. You must have been squeezing Joel's hand too hard, or your nails must have been digging into his skin too deeply, because he stopped and looked at you.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

"I- um. Huh?"

"You're practically making me bleed with those nails of yours. Are you okay? Thinking about something?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." You muttered sheepishly, gently recoiling your hand away. Joel stopped you, placing it back in the grasp of his own. "I just... what were you going to say to me?"

"Hmm? Say to you?"

"Back at the coffee shop?"

"Oh." Joel shuffled his weight between both of his feet, his eyes shifting to meet yours. His warm, gentle, dark eyes. Those honeyed orbs of warmth that you had grown to love so deeply. Love? Oh, yes. You were certain it was love.

What part of Joel Miller didn't you love? He had rescued you from much more than that shore on that fateful night. Fate. Hell of a thing, that.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut. It was like ripping off a band-aid. When he spoke, he opened them once more, allowing his words to drip off his tongue. They were soft, gentle, they swayed through the tresses of your hair like a breeze through a field of flowers.

"I love you."

And there it was.

Time must have stopped. Your ears rang with silence, the weight of the universe funneling and funneling, closer and closer to your head until there was nothing. No noise. No air. No nothing.

Joel stared at you with a blank expression on his face, as though he couldn't believe what he had just said.

"I shouldn't have... that was- I'm sorry."

You took a step towards him, his hand was still wrapped around your own. You felt the subtle sheen of sweat on his palm, you tasted the tang of metal on your tongue from biting your cheek too hard, too deep, too long.

You knew it as sure as the sun rose in the east, you knew it with every vein in your body, with every hair on your head. You loved him, too.

Oh you did, didn't you? What a fool you were for him. If he told you to jump, you would jump. If he told you to run away with him, you would ask where. Joel Miller had bewitched you, every ounce of you, and you couldn't bare the thought of leaving him, or forgetting him, or even worse- never meeting him.

Some brave rush of courage overtook you, and before you could think you had grabbed his face in your hands and pressed your mouth into his own, nearly knocking him off his feet with the force of your movement. Joel's hands instinctively grabbed your waist, and his back found the support of a stop sign. The tips of his fingers gently dug into your waist, and he held you close and tight to his chest. You could feel the beating of his heart against his torso, pumping and pumping and pumping its vibrations into your own chest, ricocheting through your body as you tasted him on your tongue.

You pulled away only when your cheeks ached, burying your face in to his chest, allowing the smell of Joel to overcome you. He always smelled like the sea air and cotton, sweet and nostalgic against your nose.

"Lets get home." He whispered in your ear.

Home. He hadn't corrected himself. Home.

Joel's fingers refused to leave yours, locked tight as you made it to his house. Moby greeted you with a kiss to the knee, waddling back to his bed with a heavy huff of air. You gave him the bone you always picked up for him on the way there, before turning around to see Joel in the kitchen, a cigarette in his mouth.

"Want one?" He asked as he brought the lighter to his mouth. You walked towards him, nodding. He took the item out of his mouth, before placing it between your own two lips.

Joel watched the way you took the cigarette, the way your glossy lips looked against the white sheen of paper.

"You're so damn beautiful. God, I just..." Joel shook his head as he kept his thoughts to himself, lighting another smoke before tossing the half empty pack on to the table.

"You just what?" Your voice echoed through the bellow of smoke, and you leaned against the counter, challenging him with your words.

"I just... got so many things I want to do to you."

You smiled, alluring eyes beaming up at him as you puffed and exhaled, slowly putting out the embers on the clay ashtray you had bought him months ago. "Like what?" Your words were teasing.

Joel watched you step towards him, and his chest rose and fell underneath the unlit kitchen light. He took in a deep breath of tobacco before flicking it in to the metal sink.

He'd deal with that later.

"How 'bout I just show you, baby?"

Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded.

Joel had never moved so fast in his life, whisking you off to his room with a loud bang of his door. He had you nearly naked and on his bed in record time, his knee resting between your legs as he kissed you, the hair of his moustache tickling your nose.

He allowed you to grind yourself down on his leg, soft moans flooding in to his mouth as his tongue explored your own, tangling and dancing with one another as his fingers worked the back of your bra. Joel threw the material across the room, your breasts pressing in to his chest, nipples hard and tantalizing.

That was the first time Joel had pulled away. He left a trail of wet kisses down to your nipples, his lips wrapping around the stiff bud. You watched him suckle at your flesh, shivers causing the hair on your arms to stand up. His curls became tangled with your fingers, a leg resting on his shoulder as he adjusted himself, sucking and licking at your tits as though he were starved.

Your sweet melody of arousal was like music to Joel, who finally gathered the strength to pull away from your chest and move down between your legs, his mouth planting a flurry of pecks to your stomach. He hooked your panties in his fingers and tugged them off, large hands resting on your thigh as he spread them.

Joel stared at your pussy, now open and bare for his eyes. It glistened with arousal, the soft pink of your flesh causing his mouth to water.

"Jesus." He breathed out slowly, eyes darting up to your gaze. "You were made just for me, weren't you?"

You felt your cheeks heat up. You were. Oh, God, you were!

His free hand snaked up to yours, and you held it tightly, nervously. His hand was your anchor, tethering you to the ocean floor of his bedroom.

Joel leaned forward, his tongue pressing flat against your clit. You whimpered out once. He sucked it in between his lips. You whimpered out twice. He worked your aching bud until you were singing a song composed just for him, pants of hot, heavy air swirling through the four walls of his room.

He was devouring you. You were his Eucharist and your pussy was his prayer. Joel worked you in ways you had never been worked before, licking and sucking your pussy with the fervor that could only ever be found in a religion. You were his religion. His idol. His worship. His solace.

Oh, solace. What a sweet, sweet thing when it was found in you.

Joel's chin was quickly soaked in your sweet wetness. He would have drowned in you if you had let him.

His tongue pushed deep in to your folds, exploring your most precious pf places, tasting every inch of you like a starved man, like a frenzied man, like a mad man.

You were his. He was yours.

Your hips were bucking, your body like a wild animal caught in a trap. Except you weren't in a trap. You were in his arms. His strong, thick, heavy arms, and ecstasy was overtaking you. His tongue was coaxing you towards an explosive orgasm, the likes of which had never been known to you. Not one so intense. Not one at the hands of a man who loved you.

Joel's grip tightened around your own, his lips sucking at your clit, tongue tapping and swirling, licking and lapping.

You could barely get any warning out before your orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking with earthquakes of pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, holding his head tight in place. Joel licked you through the height of your euphoria, sucking softly at your bud before you could barely take it anymore, before you had to gently push his head away.

"Joel." You whispered, staring at the ceiling as the white hot heat of your climax rushed over you. "Joel." You spoke it like a mantra. His name was a promise to you.

"Baby?" He climbed over you, weight supported by his elbows, and allowed the tip of his nose to gently brush over yours.

"Take me." You whispered, the palms of your hand moving to his cheeks. They were warm, and you could smell your pussy on his facial hair. You leaned forwards, kissing him, tasting your cum and his spit. A moan tumbled out of your mouth, straight through your teeth.

"Make me yours. Fuck me." You begged, although Joel didn't need any begging.

"Anything for you."

His boxers were off in the blink of an eye, and you glanced down at his cock. Tanned, slightly curved, hanging low and heavy, the mushroom tip gleaming with pre-cum. Your mouth was watering at the site, but his grasp on your chin moved your line of sight to his face.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and a soft gasp escaped you at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. He grinded against you, his shaft rubbing up and down the folds of your pussy, jolts of electricity causing you to shiver each time he brushed your clit.

Joel was teasing you. He was making you in to a mess. A mess all for him.

His eyes never left yours. Joel watched you lovingly, noses pressed tight, lips brushing past the others. You were as close as two people could possibly be, and you were unsure where his skin ended and yours began. Stray curls of his hair tickled your forehead, and your chests rose and fell in unison.

"I love you." His breath was hot against your face.

"I love you too-" He pushed his length in as you spoke, stretching out the lips of your pussy, hitting deeper than anything had before. You moaned out a wanton noise you had never heard before, nails gently digging in to his shoulders.

Joel sat there for a moment, heavy eyelids half closed. He was soaking you in, literally, allowing himself to relish in the feeling of being inside of you. Of being one with you.

He had not afforded himself many of life's pleasures. Not after Sarah had died. Not after he had let himself go. He had paced the same shore as you many moons ago, gun in hand, trying to urge himself to just put the barrel in his mouth and pull the trigger. It sounded so easy.

But something had stopped him. Something hadn't let him.

He had wondered, many years after that, why he hadn't done it. He had wondered what could possibly be worth living.

And then he saw you.

In that very same spot, rotting beneath the silver light of the moon.

It was you. Everything had been for you, hadn't it?

And now there you were, beneath him, as pretty as a picture, the embodiment of everything he had ever yearned for, everything he had ever dreamed for. You were everything to Joel, and he was everything to you.

And now there he was, deep inside of you. You were all he could feel, all he could smell, all he could see. You, you, you. The most beautiful thing he had ever saw, the most wonderful thing he could have ever waited for.

The shiver of your body brought him back down to reality. He kissed you deeply, and all you could do was smile against his mouth.

Lucky. That is what you were. That is what you both were.

"You feel so good." You whispered softly, hands gently running down the back of his head, finding a resting spot on the broad stretch of his freckled back.

Joel rubbed his cheek against yours, slowly moving his hips, grinding down against you, eliciting a sweet moan out of you. "Yeah?"

You both giggled in unison, and he watched your eyes shut as he began to pump deep inside of you. The feeling of your nails pinched at his skin.

Joel glanced down, watching his cock disappear into the depths of your cunt, sloppy noises of your arousal filling the air. Your pussy lips looked so pretty wrapped around his length, your wetness looked so pretty glistening off his cock.

You were made for him, and he for you.

"Take me, Joel." You begged, and his movement increased, growing slightly rougher as his forehead met yours, lips pressing together once more.

"God, you're so beautiful. So fucking beautiful. So fucking pretty. You feel so fucking good. This pussy.... fuck. Fuck, I never want to leave it." He was rambling through his thrusts, hand reaching down to rub at your swelling clit.

"Fuck me, Joel. Fuck me." You whined out, bucking up against the touch of his fingers as he fucked you harder in to the mattress.

"You're my girl. You're my beautiful fucking girl. God, you're everything to me. You're my world." His breath was hot against your face as he kissed you, coaxing you towards another orgasm with each rub of his middle finger across your clit.

"That's a good girl. I can feel you getting closer. I can feel that pussy tightening against me."

Your back arched off the mattress as you cried out his name, moaning as his praises filled your ears. Joel rested his face in the crook of your neck, hips slapping in to your thighs as he filled you up with every inch of his length.

"That's my girl, that's it, baby. Cum for me."

You did as he said. There was no use in holding back. As your orgasm rushed through, his own was approaching. Your name tumbled off his lips, the only word he could remember, as he came deep inside your walls. His hot cum filled you to the brim with a warmth you had never experienced, and Joel kept slowly pumping as his high rushed off, as his orgasm died down.

You shivered beneath him, another kiss being planted on your mouth. Then you cheeks. Then your nose. Then anywhere else Joel could get to.

A moan tumbled off Joel's tongue as he slowly slipped out of you, falling beside you before grabbing you and pressing you in to his chest.

"Stay with me."

"I always do." You whispered in to his chest.

"No, stay with me. Permanently. This can be our home."

"Our home." You whispered quietly, nuzzling closer into his body.

"Our home." He established firmly, resting his palm on the crown of your head.

The world would always spin, and sorrow would always lurk. That was how the world worked. That was the way of the universe. When you both awoke in the morning, the pain of yesteryears would still be there. The horrible, nasty tug of old memories and distant lives would always be somewhere deep within you.

The cosmos, however, were full of possibilities. You could have stayed in your parents home and succumb to a darkness greater than yourself. Joel could have drank himself to death or tasted the metal of a bullet. Those waves could have taken you, and he could have never decided to take a walk down to that beach.

There were many what if's.

But right now you were alive with passion, eyes wide and awake with a newfound love. The bitterness had gone, and something much brighter and better was waiting for you in the future.

Beside you, Joel Miller sat puffing on a cigarette, smiling at you through dreamy eyes. The sheen of sweat was still glistening across his chest, and the gentle smirk on his lips reflected the tales of a lovesick fool.

"Ready to go again?" He asked cheekily, handing you the smoke.

You took it with a smile.

For now, grief would have to wait.

940 notes · View notes