빨간사과처럼

It's not like you’re obsessed with Lee Haechan. You just enjoy looking at him. You barely even know the guy, but, annoyingly, he's difficult to ignore. Difficult not to notice. And it’s not like you’ve spoken much to each other either, apart from the rare exchange of a few words here and there or the odd nod of acknowledgement in corridors.  

There was this one time where he sat next to you in class, but that was only because he was late and the seat next to yours was the only empty one that was close to the entrance of the classroom. That was the first time he smiled at you. Nothing more than casual and polite but it still made your heart race.

Then, of course, there was the time where you bumped into him on the street, while you were on your way to a date, which ended up being disastrous, but that didn’t really bother you. What bothered you was the fact that he was also on his way to a date. With a girl. A girl he chose to go on a date with. A girl that he probably found pretty. A girl that wasn't you. Regardless, that didn’t negate the fact that, that night you had your first ever conversation with him. It was brief, but it happened, and it certainly left you with a bittersweet taste in your mouth, which was probably why you later couldn’t focus on the boy you matched with on that godforsaken dating app. And as mean as it sounded in your head, you hoped Haechan’s date went as badly as yours. 

Next time you saw him, was at a campus party you got dragged to by Chenle and Ningning. Mark convinced Chenle, who convinced Ningning, who forced you and it’s not like you don’t enjoy a fun night out with friends and alcohol, you just weren’t in the right mood that night and you were convinced that being in your luteal phase had definitely something to do with it.   

You remember instantly spotting him in the kitchen, leaning lazily against the counter as he was speaking to a girl you didn’t recognise and you could tell just from her side profile that she was nothing but attractive. You watched as she reached and took the drink he was holding, bringing it up to her lips, tasting the contents of the cup but also him, and you decided to look elsewhere before witnessing anything that would (but definitely shouldn’t) ruin your night.   

You were determined to spend the rest of the party as far away from him as possible, forcing poor Chenle to go and refill your drink in the kitchen every time you ran out. You were more than aware it might have sounded silly to anyone else, but you didn’t want to go down the rabbit hole of trying to get someone’s attention, when they were clearly not interested. You’d been that person in the past, and you refused to make the same mistakes again. At the end of the day, it was just a crush. It would go away eventually. Right?  

When the party started to die down, you found yourself in the back garden with no one else other than the lovely Na Jaemin, after you stumbled upon him being sick in a fake plant pot. You could have left him in his own fate, but knowing yourself, you would definitely feel guilty for the rest of the night, if you didn’t make sure he was safe. You started to regret your decision about 10 minutes later, when he had already fallen asleep with his head in your lap and you were sure he was drooling on you, but that was the least of your concerns in that moment. Thankfully, Chenle picked up on the first ring and when you asked him to come outside with reinforcements, he immediately said, “I’ll be there in a sec.”

The reinforcements, of course, being Jeno and Haechan, wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, but you weren’t in a position to be picky. You found out shortly after that Haechan had only stepped outside for a smoke and got dragged into ‘helping’, which he refused to do since, according to him, Jaemin had put him in that position countless of times and he’s sick of looking after a grown ass man who’s got the alcohol tolerance of a twelve year-old. You found his point more than valid, but you didn’t say anything.   

When Chenle and Jeno disappeared back inside, carrying a whiny and barely coherent Jaemin, you found yourself alone with the boy you had initially tried to steer clear of at all costs. Your mission miserably failed that night and at the end of it all you realised one thing; whatever it was that you felt for Lee Haechan, wasn’t just a harmless crush.   

“I gotta admit, that was slightly entertaining.” He said as he took the seat that Jaemin had previously been occupying next to you on the wooden bench.   

You must have sat there with him for about an hour, talking about everything and nothing, while enjoying the early summer breeze and the freedom that came with the end of finals. He insisted on getting you an uber home when you announced that you were going to walk because your phone had died and when you asked if you could pay him back somehow, he said, “Just don't be a stranger next year.”  

Autumn  

You were aware Zhong Chenle was an evil little thing, but you hadn’t pegged him for a traitor. And betrayed is what you felt as you read the message on your screen over and over again.   

@kh1000le: greetings folks, party at my new place this saturday @8 – I'll add the deets later but feel free to invite more people. ps. don’t forget to bring extra booze.  

You look up from your phone, remembering you're still in class and the professor is still talking stats. Your eyes instantly land on Haechan, still sitting two rows ahead of you, between Jeno and Jaemin and you can tell he’s looking down, probably reading the message you were reading just seconds ago. Jaemin shifts closer to whisper something in his ear and Haechan leans in to hear better. He quickly nods his head agreeing to whatever Jaemin says. 

You turn your attention back to your phone again as more notifications flood your screen. Other people in the group chat responding and reacting to messages. Haechan is still silent. No reactions or responses. You wonder what he's thinking. But most of all, you wonder if he's noticed you're also in that group chat. Would he recognise your username? You only started following each other the day after that party before summer, but it’s been almost four months now and there has certainly been no exchange of messages.   

Suddenly, you notice people have started packing up their belongings and you quickly start doing the same, hoping you can flee the scene as fast as possible, before Jaemin comes up to you with questions about the party.   

The second you step outside the doors and into the corridor, you exhale, relieved to have succeeded and as you start walking towards the main building exit you realise you spoke too soon.   

"Y/n, wait up!"

You close your eyes muttering a quiet “shit” to yourself. You put on a smile and turn around, Jaemin quickly approaching you. Haechan, who's trailing a few steps behind him, isn’t really paying attention, already in a conversation with Jeno.   

“Jeez woman, you sure walk fast. You got somewhere to be?” He speaks fast as he tries to catch his breath.  

“Hey Jaemin, yeah, sorry, I'm in a rush, how can I help?" You try and respond as nonchalantly as possible.   

"I just saw you're in that group chat and I'm assuming you'll be there on Saturday?" He asks with eyes full of hope.   

"Yes sir. I'm actually meeting up with Chenle now to talk logistics." You explain quickly, seeing Haechan getting closer from your peripheral.

"Ahhh that makes sense, I just wanted to ask if we should bring anything else other than alcohol?"   

"Just your drink of choice will be enough for you I reckon, don't want you ruining any of his new plants." You say with a teasing tone. 

"Yah!" He complains with a pout that is nothing but laughable. 

"Hey Y/N." Jeno approaches with a smile and joins your conversation. “Is this man bothering you?”   

“Not really, just making sure he doesn't die of alcohol poisoning on Saturday.” You try to keep your eyes on Jeno, avoiding the handsome boy who's also joined your little group. 

”I thought you were a nice one.” Jaemin whines like a little child while a frown adorns his face.   

“You’ve been fooled my friend,” Jeno comes to stand next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders, shaking you playfully. “She’s evil.”   

You're mid eye roll when Haechan’s voice cuts through. “Seems pretty harmless to me.” He’s standing next to Jaemin now. One hand in his pocket, the other holding the strap of his bag. You notice the two rings adorning his middle fingers. Such a pretty hand, you think, the veins prominent, running down his smooth arm, disappearing underneath an oversized check shirt he's wearing over a white t-shirt. You then notice he's got a pair of jorts on and you can't help but wonder who can even pull off jorts that effortlessly nowadays.   

Your attention drifts back up to his face, the most adorable boba eyes are twinkling as he looks at you and his captivating mouth offers you a cheeky smile. A small dimple appears, barely there for you to see and you think you're on the verge of throwing up. His lips move again and you watch him carefully like he’s moving in slow motion. "Hi." His hand leaving his pocket and raising in the air to offer you a quick wave. It's annoying how such a small and casual gesture makes your heartbeat faster and your cheeks feel warmer. You're pretty sure your eyes are giving you away, showing how affected you are behind the stoic expression you’re struggling to maintain. You never thought you'd be here, but you have Chenle to thank. Or maybe strangle. You haven't decided yet.   

"Hi." You return the smile as calmly as you can, foregoing the wave. You don't think your limbs are working properly right now and you're pretty sure your fingers are slightly shaking by your sides. And you’re now thankful for Jeno’s arm still draped around you, the weight grounding and necessary. You feel your phone vibrate a few times in your back pocket, assuming it's either Chenle or Ning checking if you're alive and that pulls you out of your trance. “Evil is a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”   

”That’s funny, remember when you told me to go fuck myself and read a book whilst I’m at it?"   

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You shove his arm off you in fake annoyance. “Did I offend you?” You feign concern dramatically. “Remember when you asked me if I’ve got any friends who need, and I quote, an unforgettable dicking down session and then proceeded to say, and I quote again, ‘is Murakami the fella who wrote that book about some Norwegian guy’s dick?’” You get slightly irritated just at the memory. 

"Ahhh that explains it! This guy came back home a few months ago asking if anyone’s got a copy of Norwegian Wood." Jaemin looks at you as he explains, whilst pointing a mocking finger at Jeno. 

"Oh? You actually read it then?" You ask with a hopeful smile and Jeno offers you a shy nod. Maybe there's hope for him after all. 

“Read it? He actually cried when he got to the part where Naoko kills herself.” Haechan snorts at Jeno’s sour expression and reaches out to lightly pinch his cheek. He instantly gets shoved away. “Aw come on, I thought it was endearing.” Haechan turns to look at you now. “I was wondering who made him read that.” He holds your gaze while you hold your breath, and you wish someone could hold your heart as it’s about to beat out of your chest. “I love that book.” He admits with a smile, and you celebrate internally, because you knew he wasn’t just a pretty face, and you feel giddy knowing that you’ve both loved the same thing, even if it’s just a book. 

You picture him sitting in a pink cafe, wearing a cozy sweater, looking all warm and comfy while turning page after page. You find yourself wanting to ask if he’s read it more than once, like you have and what his thoughts are on the ending. But you don’t. Not yet. 

“Well maybe you two nerds should join a book club.” Jeno bitterly says.   

“I mean, I’d be down?” Haechan raises his eyebrows suggestively at you. Mothefucker.   

“I would, but unfortunately I have somewhere to be right now.” Your response causing his tongue to poke in his cheek, trying to fight off a smile. The gesture making him look incredibly handsome and boyish at the same time and if you were a cartoon character, pink heart eyes would be bulging out of your eye sockets. You force yourself to look away from Haechan's face, opting to divert your gaze between the other two boys instead. They're both carrying amused expressions, looking between you and Haechan and you feel like you’re missing something.   

“Ouch.” Jaemin says with a laugh, now mocking Haechan.   

“See?” Jeno looks at both of his friends, crossing his arms over his chest as if proving a point. “Told you she’s evil.” He smiles like he’s proud of you.   

And that’s your queue to escape. ”Right, well, as lovely as this has been, I actually have to go.”   

“Okay, busy queen.” Jaemin snaps his fingers and you can instantly picture him getting along with Chenle. “We’ll see you Saturday then.” He smiles sweetly.   

”You will indeed. Don’t be too late.” You say with a warning, pointing a finger between all three of them.  

”Yes, mam.” Jeno nods in agreement.   

You look at Haechan one last time. His expression contemplative, almost like he's torn between saying something else and keeping quiet. The way he's observing you makes you feel like he's already got you all figured out. Like there's no way he doesn't know you’re having trouble breathing, all because of him.

“See you Saturday.” He says in the sweetest tone, smiling at you like he's done it a million times before.  

You give him a small nod goodbye and when you start to walk away you try your best to do so at a normal speed, not wanting to give away the fact that you're practically running away.   

You hear Jaemin's loud voice again. “Bye Y/N!”   

”Bye Jaemin!” You respond, mimicking his cheerful tone without looking back.   

As you head towards the exit, you've already decided you're going to go with the option of strangling Chenle. Because there’s no way you’re surviving Saturday night without going clinically insane. Not if Haechan holds your gaze the way he did just a few moments ago. Not if he talks the way he talks and certainly not if he looks as good as he always does. 

You’re done for.   

_

You’re baffled as to how and why Chenle knows this many people. You assume majority are friend of friends and acquaintances, because you’ve known the boy for three years now and never has he mentioned more than five names. You’re also starting to get worried he might get a noise complaint from the people occupying the flat downstairs, but you assume he has already warned them about tonight.   

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud exclaim and you feel like laughing when you hear Chenle’s screechy voice shouting Mark’s name excitedly, announcing his drunkenness along with the older boy’s arrival.   

"Lover boy still not here?" Ningning teases you as you check the time on your phone for the umpteenth time that night. She takes a sip from her drink and looks over your shoulder. "Relax, it only 9pm." 

"I'm relaxed." You defend quickly. She takes in your stressed expression and pauses to think for a second. "What?"  

"Nothing, I just realised I haven't seen you so excited about a boy before. It's refreshing." She smiles while trapping the straw between her pearly whites. "Speak of the devil." She jerks her chin towards the direction of the door and you instantly know who she’s referring to, but you don't dare to turn around and look yet. You feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest and Ningning sets her drink down on the kitchen counter before taking hold of both your shoulders. "Y/N, we talked about this. There's literally no reason to freak out. If he flirts, flirt back. Let it happen naturally yeah?" Her tone serious, as if you're both on a mission. 

You widen your eyes comically to match hers, nodding your head quickly while trying not to laugh at her expression. It’s almost as though she’s more anxious than you are. "Ning, I'm good. I got it."  

"Just saying, he'd be a dimwit not to like you." One of her hands pushes a strand of hair behind your ear and the comforting act gives you the reassurance you didn’t know you needed. "Plus, this dress makes your tiddies look yummy." She smirks and you wack her hand away with a laugh when she reaches out to poke into the bit of cleavage that spills from the top of your dress. You can tell she's entered the realms of tipsiness, and you wish you were there with her too, but the tequila shot from earlier definitely didn't do its job. 

"Fuck me, didn’t think this many people would turn up." Jaemin's loud voice startles both of you, making you turn around and you're met with the three boys from your stats class. "Good thing we brought reinforcements, huh?" He says excitedly, shaking a Jack Daniels bottle.   

"Are you a middle aged man by any chance?" Ningning's face scrunched up in disgust as she inspects the whiskey bottle in Jaemin's hands. "What happened to just drinking plain old vodka at parties?"

"Ah, Jeno is your guy." Jaemin points his thumb behind him and Jeno raises the hand holding a vodka bottle.   

Jeno's face lights up when he spots the unused cups and heads over to start making drinks for him and Ningning. "Lemonade?" He asks, looking at her and she nods excitedly. "Same for you Y/N?" His eyes on you now.  

"Nah, I'm on gin tonight, thanks though." You smile appreciatively at him.  

"Guess I'm your guy then."   

Fuck.  

Your eyes instantly meet. He's already smiling down at you, and he looks so good. Too good for your respiratory system to function properly. His dark hair is messily styled, fringe almost covering his eyes. He's got a black button-down shirt on, top three buttons undone, collarbones on display and sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny forearms, all effortlessly combined with dark blue jeans and black converse. Pretty. Perfect.   

Without permission, his hand engulfs yours, wrapping around your drink, bringing the cup to his lips, your own hand slipping down as he downs the liquid in one big gulp. The cooling feeling of his rings lingers, and you can’t help but stare at his neck as he swallows and then his eyes are on you again, his tongue slightly darting out to lick his bottom lip where there's a drop of liquid. His eyebrows furrow and he nods in approval. 

"Lemonade it is." He casually says, like he didn’t almost just cause your heart to fail. He takes your now empty cup with him, joining Jeno at the counter.   

"Well then," Jaemin feigns disappointment, eyebrows furrowing dramatically. "I guess I'm having this whole whiskey bottle to myself."  

"I'm sure Chenle would help you out." Ningning half jokes. "Good luck finding him though." 

"Yeah, what the hell, this place is so crowded." Jeno returns with two drinks and hands one of them to Ningning. "It might be a bit strong, sorry." He warns her.   

Her face grimaces slightly when she takes a reluctant sip, proving Jeno right, making you both laugh. "Eh, it'll do." She says carelessly, "I've had a stressful week."  

"Here to help." Jeno raises his cup, and they do a quick cheers. They start conversing comfortably about why her week was stressful and you're pretty sure they've never met before but that's Ningning. Top yapper, never awkward.   

"Yours might be a bit on the strong side too." Haechan says apologetically as he stands in front of you, handing you back your now full cup. You smile at the sparkly straw he's added. Cute. "Try it."  

And you do. It feels too intense, almost intimate, drinking while holding eye contact with someone, let alone this fine man, so you don't. But you feel his eyes on you as you take a sip. And you really do hope the drink is strong, because if you're going to survive tonight, alcohol will be your savior. He's looking at you, carefully taking in your expression as you taste the drink, almost as if he's sat on the edge of his seat waiting for your reaction.   

"It's good. Thank you." You smile appreciatively as you welcome the slight burn in the back of your throat and he mirrors you excitedly. 

"Good." He nods with a satisfied expression. Then he lets his eyes wander downwards. He takes in your dress in a not-so-subtle way, and you could swear he’s checking you out. You watch his eyes move on you and you love how he's still holding his cup close to his lips, touching the bottom one. You fight against the urge to reach out and drag it down with your thumb. Would he mind if you did that? You reach behind you instead, resting one hand against the counter to somewhat ground yourself, and the action seems to bring him back to reality. Is he always this obvious? 

"Did you also have a stressful week?" He asks casually, like he wasn't just staring at your boobs a second ago. His eyes on yours now.  

"Huh?"  

"Your friend said she's had a stressful week," He explains, chuckling at your confusion. "Was just asking if it was the same for you."  

"Oh right. Umm, I dunno." You shrug. "A little, I guess." 

"How come?" His head tilts to the side slightly.  

"It's always fine until Thursday to be honest." Your admission holds a double meaning and he seems to catch on as the sides of his lips slightly lift amusedly.   

"Really? I thought Thursday was our day, no?" He playfully pouts and you’re trying your best not to let his smooth words affect you. Our day? What a little shit. You notice the silver chain around his neck and you can't help but feel a tinge of shame at the inappropriate thoughts that flood your mind. 

"Just not a big fan of stats." You make up an excuse with a slight delay, hoping that he can't tell you're practically ogling him. 

He nods understandingly. "You and me both. I've been seriously thinking about dropping it next semester."  

"What would you choose instead?" You ask curiously, trying to cover the frown that takes over your face at the thought of not sharing any classes with him. 

"Why, you interested in joining me?" Is he flirting or have you already gone insane?   

"Depends." You shrug, twirling the sparkly straw, eyes not leaving his. 

"I think I'd go for creative writing." He studies your face for a reaction.   

“Oh?” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “So you really did mean it when you said you wanted to join a book club.” You tease with newfound confidence and he lets out an airy chuckle. 

“That offer's gone now, you turned me down.” He says with a smirk.   

"I'm sure I could convince you to reconsider." You say with a suggestive tone, catching him off guard and before he can retort with a witty response, you return to your initial subject. “So, you wanna be a writer or...?”  

"Well, no, not exactly.” His voice is hesitant, eyes lowering to look at his drink, almost as if he’s embarrassed. Does he think you’ll judge him? You suddenly get the feeling that you might have overstepped.   

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”  

“No, no, you’re good.” His words are rushed, his head shaking quickly, hand reaching to touch your arm reassuringly. It’s light, quick, barely there but his fingers feel hot against your skin. Before you have time to react, he continues. “I just- I don’t really go around talking about personal goals and what not, don’t want you to think I’m flaunting.”  

“Why would I think you’re flaunting?” Your perplexed tone causing him to smile. 

“I wanna make music.” Eyes carefully watch you as he waits for a reaction. When you just nod for him to continue, he almost looks surprised but quickly recovers, clearing his throat. ”So, I thought creative writing would help.”  

"So, you wanna write songs." You state as if to make sure that you heard him correctly and he nods, still watching your face. "Or have you already?" You ask carefully and he chuckles at your attempt to keep your nosiness to a minimum but failing.   

He moves to stand next to you, leaning against the counter. You feel like you can breathe again, now that his eyes aren't on you, but his arm brushes against your shoulder and you almost shiver when you feel the warmth radiating off him. You get a whiff of his scent, subtly inhaling, cologne and detergent mixing into an intoxicating potion that clouds your senses. He's too close but you somehow want him closer. You suddenly wonder where Chenle is and instantly feel bad for threatening to cut his air circulation. This is good. This feels good.   

He looks down at his drink, in thought. "I play the piano, so creating a melody is relatively simple if I really put my mind to it." Oh? He looks at you again and you feel scrutinised under his gaze. Suddenly, your shoes are very interesting to look at. "It's just the words I struggle with." He admits.   

"Maybe you need to find some sort of inspiration?" You suggest.  

"Maybe." He puts his drink down and leans against the counter, crossing his hands on his chest. "Got anything in mind? 

"I mean, it could be a person." You say nonchalantly, without really thinking. "Unless you’ve already got that covered?" The bold question comes out before your brain can process the thought and you internally scream.   

He smiles wide now. Pearly whites on display. His eyes back on yours. "I thought you didn’t mean to pry." He teases and laughs when your eyes widen. “I’m joking.” He elbows your side softly and you almost gasp as the touch. Why does he keep touching you?   

“I tend to get nosy after a couple of drinks, sorry.” You huff a quick laugh before taking another sip of your drink, trying to distract yourself.  

“You can be nosy, I don’t mind.” He says in a more serious tone now and you feel his gaze on you. Choosing to keep your eyes on your drink seems like a wise choice, watching as you swirl the liquid in your cup. "To answer your question though, I currently have no clue what or who I'd write about." He responds indirectly, but the implication is clear. He reaches for his drink again in thought. "Maybe ask me in a year's time? Hopefully I’ve found a source of inspiration by then."   

“That’s fair.” You pick up your phone from the counter and after unlocking it you click on your calendar app. You scroll until you find next year’s October and select today's date. He looks over your shoulder and laughs when he reads 'Ask Haechan about his songwriting' as the reminder's title. You show him your screen and smile when you see the approval on his face.   

"Yeah, that works." He nods.  

You look around and notice that all your friends are now gone. "We should probably mingle." You suggest.   

"Right, yeah." He agrees with a nod, looking around just like you did a second ago. 

When you spot Ningning in the crowd, she's laughing with Jeno and Jaemin. Their attention on Chenle and the girl who's got her tongue down his throat. You and Haechan find the situation just as comical.   

The rest of the night flows smoothly. You get to meet a few more people as well as the other two boys Haechan, Jeno and Jaemin live with and you wonder how all these insanely attractive boys came to be friends. Renjun and Jisung are both equally as lovely. You find Renjun’s mother figure hilarious and Jisung’s shyness endearing. You don't fail to notice that Haechan always hovers close. Not necessarily standing or sitting next to you, but always close enough that you can see him from your peripheral and you can't help but wonder if it's intentional or just a coincidence. 

You’re mid conversation with Mark when you feel a hand on your lower back. You easily recognise the now familiar scent of his cologne, and you instantly turn your head and look at him. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol deceiving you, but he looks even more irresistible than he did before. His hair slightly stuck to his forehead from the heat surrounding the crowded living room, cheeks and lips a deeper shade of pink now that he’s had his fair share of alcohol. You wonder if his lips taste the same as yours since you’ve been having the same drink all night.

“Shots?” Haechan shouts over the music and you and Mark follow him into the kitchen, where Jaemin and Jeno are preparing tequila shots and you wonder who assigned these two clowns with bartender duties. Chenle is now gulping down a glass of water and you’re thankful to whoever made that decision for him. 

As soon as you’ve downed your shot, you take a sip of your drink as a chaser to minimise the burning sensation in your esophagus. “Wanna go get some air?” Haechan leans in and you almost shiver as his warm breath fans against your naked shoulder and you internally thank Ningning for prompting you to wear a strapless dress.   

You respond with a quick nod and he smiles. “I got you.” He mumbles as he takes hold of your hand and leads you to the big balcony doors. On the way, he grabs a hoodie you assume he dumped earlier on the couch and the second you’re outside and he shuts the door, you feel the ringing in your ears. You’re thankful for the fresh air infiltrating your lungs and brain, feeling a little less intoxicated now. “Maybe that shot was a bad call,” Haechan laughs quietly at your dazed expression. “Didn’t take you for a lightweight.” He teases.  

“Yah!” You elbow him, your voice louder than you intended it to be and he giggles softly, clearly also affected by the drinks he’s had all night. “I’ve had the same amount as you.” You pout drunkenly.   

“I’m just teasing.” His smile soft now.   

“Yeah, you seem to keep doing that.” You say with a complaint in your tone, eyes narrowing.   

“Maybe I wouldn’t if you didn’t keep getting all flustered every single time.” His words take you aback; a surprised laugh escaping your throat at his boldness.   

Before you have time to speak, he notices your arms coming up to conceal a shiver and without a word, he’s closer than he’s ever been before. His arms circle around you, hands hovering just above your shoulders as he holds up the hoodie, waiting for you to slot your arms through the sleeves. You look up at him before you obey, his intense stare not giving much room for any objection.   

Once it’s on you, his hands come to your front to fix the neckline that connects to the hood and when you think he’s about to zip you up, he reaches behind you again, playfully dragging the hood up, over your head, covering most of your face with the thick fabric and you whine loudly, causing him to laugh. You push the hood back down, with a frown.

“Aww, cute.” He coos as he gently tames the mess he created on your head, fingers untangling and smoothing down the strands and he smiles endearingly when he’s happy with his work. "There you go, all done." 

“Thanks.” You say in a bashful tone.   

“For keeping you warm or calling you cute?” He asks with a smirk and you can’t help but scoff, feigning annoyance as you swat away the hand still playing with a strand of your hair.   

Desperately needing to escape his daring eyes, you walk past him and towards the railing as you take in the view of the twinkling city lights and you withhold a smile when you feel him follow after you.  

You feel his stare on you as he leans against the railing, taking a vape out of his pocket. He takes a puff and exhales the smoke through his nose, as he takes in the view himself, before turning to meet your eyes again. The action shouldn’t feel this intimate and it definitely shouldn’t make him look even more attractive than he already is. 

You instinctively reach out and fix the chain that’s somewhat tangled around his neck. He doesn’t flinch, just moves his head to the side to make room for your hand and the sides of his lips twitch, fighting a grin. “What flavour is it?” You drop your hand from his collar and step a little closer to take a look at the fruit-flavoured stick in his hand.   

“Cherry ice.” He holds it out for you. “Wanna try it?”   

When you do, you can't help but scrunch your nose at the sugary taste. “Hmm.” Your uncertainty obvious as you exhale the smoke. “It’s too sweet.” You cringe at the aftertaste, your funny expression making him laugh. And you feel your heartbeat fastening at the sound. Because you're right. It's too sweet. 

“I like sweet things.” He says in a hushed voice, as if he's letting you in on a secret. The dual meaning of his words causes a blush to creep up from your neck to your cheeks. You can tell he notices, but this time he holds back on teasing you and turns to look at the view again, taking another puff.  

You gawk at how handsome he looks from this angle. His long lashes, the slope of his perfect nose, his incredibly kissable heart-shaped lips, his sharp jawline, his neck. Pretty. Everything about him. 

“Yeah, I bet you do.” You mutter in a daze. He looks at you again and you don’t look away this time. His brown eyes sparkle, reflecting the city lights below. You realise that you’ve never actually been around him in a setting like this. It’s always been daytime with him. Always crowded. Always surrounded by noise that you had to block out. But now it’s all new.   

Nighttime. Just you two. Quiet.   

“That dress looks good on you, I like it.” His eyes trail down your form again, a lot quicker this time, but still noticeable and at this point you're convinced he's not even trying to hide it. 

Your face feels warmer than before as you look down at your dress, your hand instinctively smoothing down the material. You can see the smoke he exhales from your peripheral and then you choose your words boldly again. “I know you do.”   

“Really?” He steps closer and his hand comes up, thumb delicately tracing the tiny bow at the centre of your cleavage. “What gave me away?” Your heartbeat increases when his fingers trail upwards, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and settling on the base of your neck, his thumb on your jaw, giving you no option but to look up at him.   

“You’re just-” You pause to inhale sharply when you realise how close he is. Your noses almost bumping into each other. You tip your head back slightly, to look at him properly.  

“I’m what?” He urges you to go on.  

“Not very subtle.” You finally finish your sentence.   

“Y/N-” He says with a breathy laugh and you don’t think you’ve ever liked the sound of your name so much before. The tip of his nose rubs against your own just once and the sweetest smile takes over his features. You feel yourself leaning into him even more. His thumb still caressing your jaw and you know he wants to kiss you, but you wait. You let him take the lead. Because you need him to. “I don’t think I ever intended to be subtle with you.”   

Your gaze drifts down to his lips and you so desperately want them on yours now, you think you might cave and close the gap yourself. One of your hands travels up and your pointer finger curls around his chain, pulling just a tiny bit.  And the second he closes the gap you think you’re going through an out-of-body experience. His lips feel soft, and you can instantly tell he’s a good kisser.   

His mouth slots perfectly against yours, slow at first. But he doesn’t waste time when your lips eagerly part against his. He licks at your bottom lip teasingly before briefly sucking, tongue easily finding its way in and the second it glides against your own, hot and wet, you moan. Both your hands find their way in his hair, slightly pulling, and you feel him sigh against your mouth. The hand on your jaw drags slowly to the back of your neck and into your hair, tilting your head to get the angle he wants. It's filthy, the perfect amount of sloppy and careful. A thousand times better than what you’ve imagined. He sucks on your tongue, forcing another moan out of you.   

You try to pull away for a second to catch your breath but the hand in your hair silently instructs you to stay put. “Mmh-mm.” He protests with a whine and the vibration against your mouth feels delicious. Arousing. And you feel pathetic at how wet you already are just from kissing him. He licks into your mouth one more time before pulling back, allowing you to catch your breath, a string of saliva still connecting your lips as you both breathe heavily and your fingers tighten around the collar of his shirt in desperation.   

“Fuck.” He exhales against your lips, sounding beautifully wrecked, chest moving up and down rapidly against your own and your erect nipples feel so sensitive rubbing on his shirt. Even with your eyes still closed, you can sense him looking at you, making you feel exposed and incredibly turned on at the same time.    

You fully come back to your senses when he starts walking you backwards until you’re eventually backed up against the wall next to the balcony door, suddenly reminding you of your surroundings. You don’t have much time to think before his lips are on yours again and you immediately turn into mush in his arms, mouth pliantly giving him access. The only things audible are your heavy breathing and the wet sounds of your lips smacking. The faint music coming from inside, barely noticeable now.

Haechan wraps a hand around your throat, gentle but possessive and you love the weight of it on your sweaty skin, just resting there with intend. His other hand grabs the side of your thigh, raising your leg to rest on his hip. And that’s when you feel the hardness, grinding slowly against your tummy, testing the waters, and you can’t help but gasp in response. 

His mouth leaves yours, trailing gentle kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck, leaving wet patches of your combined spit on your skin, and when he reaches the dip of your collarbone, he bites gently, soothing the skin with his tongue afterwards. You can’t help but clench around nothing.   

He angles your head to the side, giving himself more space to suck and lick where he pleases as his other hand trails from your thigh to the curve of your ass, squeezing the flesh and bunching up your dress in the process. You whimper at the feeling of his rough hand, your eyes rolling back when he grinds into your front again, with more urgency this time.  

"Fuck." You whisper breathlessly, feeling lightheaded.   

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your sensitive skin, and you cup his face in your hands, guiding him to look at you again. “What do you want?” He gives you a sweet peck and you instantly melt, your insides turning into mush as you hold him there, kissing him deeply again, squishing his cheeks between your hands and he smiles into the kiss, biting your bottom lip playfully, letting lets it snap back into place, making you whine softly. “Talk to me baby.” It’s barely audible, and he says it with ease, like he’s been calling you that for a long time and your eyes almost roll back at the pet name. A few hours ago, you were high on nerves because of him and now you’re just high on him, touching you and kissing you and calling you ‘baby’, like he owns you.   

Your thumbs caress his cheekbones before you trail your hands back up into his hair, nails gently scratching his scalp and he closes his eyes, humming in satisfaction. “Want you,” You murmur and kiss the side of his mouth as you drag a hand down his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze, before sneaking down to his hand that’s casually resting on your ass like it belongs there. You interlock your fingers with his, bringing both your hands between your bodies, guiding him under the front of your short dress, pressing his fingers against the seat of your lacy underwear. “Here.” You whisper against his lips and he inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring and you almost laugh at his reaction. Your leg wraps securely around him urging him closer by pushing the calf into his ass.   

“Jesus Christ.” He whispers and his eyes are on his hand as his fingers now start rubbing slowly against your sensitive clit, the delicate lace somewhat helping with the much-needed friction, but you desperately want to feel his skin on yours with no barrier.   

You kiss him again and he pliantly parts his lips for your tongue to invade, allowing you to taste the remnants of cherry ice. Your wet muscle glides against his slowly, and you moan when he pushes the flimsy material of your panties aside, like he’s read your mind. The moan turns into a whine when his middle and ring fingers make direct contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow circles around the nub with precision, like he knows exactly what you like and you kiss him harder trying to distract yourself from the sensitivity, because there’s no way you’re cumming just from a few touches like a horny teenager.

You both moan in the kiss the moment his fingers dip lower and drag through your wet slit and he doesn’t waste a second, rubbing up and down slowly, spreading the wetness messily.   

“You're soaked, fuck.” he mumbles in awe and you bask in the feeling of him finally knowing how much you want him; how much you need him to do something about it. “Messy baby.” His filthy words cloud your brain as your head lulls back against the wall to watch his face. He looks so pretty, his bottom lip trapped in his mouth, his glazed eyes focused on his hand still working between your legs. 

He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up at you and watches your reaction with a satisfied expression as the tip of his middle finger catches at your entrance before coming back up to your clit, spreading more of your wetness. He smirks when your jaw drops and your eyes roll back as he starts rubbing the bundle of nerves in firm and quick side-to-side motions with three of his fingers. 

"You're so pretty." He mutters against your lips and your stomach flutters at the words, along with your pussy.

“Fuck.” You whine when you feel him delicately suckle on your bottom lip, his tongue playfully dipping out to lick before he starts kissing down to your neck again and your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding him close, tugging at the fabric of his shirt in desperation. “So good.” You breathe into the night air, relishing in the intense pleasure the pads of his digits are giving you, flicking with just the right amount of pressure, exactly how yours would.   

“Wanna make you cum.” He breathes heavily into your neck, dragging his lips up until he gently bites your earlobe. His fingers move faster now, abusing your poor clit, circling and massaging harder, and you feel a bead of sweat rolling down the back of your bent knee.   

“Yeah, want it.” You nod eagerly, your hips jolting forward and he inhales sharply.   

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes on you now. “Think you can take it?” His fingers now slowing down, teasing.  

“Uh-huh.” You manage to get out in urgency as his fingers dip down again. “Please.” You stare into his eyes, and you feel yours starting to water when his middle and ring fingers slowly slide into you with ease. Your jaw drops, the stretch delicious and so needed, so welcome. Your vision blurs when he slowly starts pumping them in and out, testing the waters first and your eyes roll back in relief. A squeal escapes you when he curls his fingers just the right amount and starts fucking in and out of your pussy at a rapid pace, like he’s on a mission.   

“Oh fuck!” You exclaim in shock, your hand flying to his bicep as you look down at his hand, the veins protruding on his tan arm, the sight so sinful you have to close your eyes again. The heel of his palm rubbing against your clit each time he fucks into you, creates a deliciously warm vibration. The sounds are obscene, your wetness making every thrust loud. 

Another pornographic moan breaks out of you when his pace gets a little rougher and Haechan has to shut you up with a hand on your mouth. Your shaky fingers are clawing at his chest, over his shirt, and he lets out a low grunt against the hand he’s got pressed on your mouth, his forehead resting on yours and his eyes closing when you clench around his fingers. Your legs start shaking from the intense pleasure and he opts to wrapping his arm securely around your waist in order to help you maintain your compromised balance. He doesn’t hesitate to replace his hand with his lips, silencing you with a wet, tongue-filled kiss, swallowing all your noises. You’re not really kissing him back, your lips parted against his at a pathetic attempt of reciprocating, just panting and whining, completely lost in pleasure. 

“I’m so close.” You whisper and you feel like you’re on the verge of crying.   

“I’ve got you, baby, c'mon.” He murmurs into the messy kiss breathlessly, saliva coating both your chins and you love every second of it. The pads of his fingers now abusing the spongy spot at the front of your walls at an intense speed, hitting it just perfectly and you think you might pass out. Your walls flutter around his fingers, sucking him in and you're sure he can tell you're right there. Slick is dripping down his wrist, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. “Fuck yeah, there it is.”  

“Haechan, I'm-“ Your eyes slightly widen, and you can’t even finish your sentence as you stumble over the edge. “Oh my god.” Your voice strained, your lungs struggling to keep up. The heat from where his fingers are burying repeatedly, starts spreading and your stomach clenches. Your walls clamp down on his hand, kneading his fingers and for a second, his eyes close, seeming to enjoy the constricting feeling. Your own eyes roll back at the pleasure, eyebrows creased, jaw dropping in a silent moan, breaths coming out quick and you're sure he can feel your leg shaking uncontrollably against his hip.   

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His words make you smile in your daze, and you bite on your bottom lip knowing he finds pleasure in your own. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, letting you ride out your high for as long as possible and when your eyes open, you see him watching your face in awe, and ironically, you feel shy.

His fingers slow down when you whine from overstimulation, until he completely halts and buries them inside to enjoy the feeling of your sensitive walls for a little longer. He kisses your cheek sweetly as he carefully pulls out of you, his fingers bumping lightly against your clit, causing you to flinch. He buries his face in your neck to conceal his laugh, hot breath fanning against your damp skin as he scatters little kisses.

You sigh and relax contently when his warm hand cups your soaked centre and he keeps it there in a comforting manner.   

"Good?” He whispers, nose delicately rubbing against your flushed skin and you almost don’t hear him due to the ringing in your ears still lingering after the intense high.  

"Yeah." Your forehead is sweaty; you feel baby hairs sticking to the damp skin and you lazily smile at how fast his heart is beating against your palm. Your eyes are staring dreamily at his face and you rub your nose against his, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek affectionately. Your thumb drags across his bottom lip and he bites on it playfully, his nose scrunching cutely, making you swoon. It scares you how comfortable you already feel around him.   

Your leg drops from his hip, and you wince at the soreness. His hand now trapped between your legs, still cupping your heat. An idea pops into your head, making you smirk and he watches your expression with an inquisitive look, eyebrows raising slightly in question. 

"What?" He asks, eyes innocent, seemingly lost. 

You firmly wrap a hand around his wrist, trying not to whimper when you feel his fingers drag against your sensitive clit and your hold tightens. He lets you lift his hand between both your faces, his eyes inspecting the strings of wetness stretching between his long digits. Without warning you lean forward, wrapping your swollen lips around the two fingers that were inside you just a few minutes ago and Haechan whimpers at the sinful gesture. It’s erotic, filthy and you don’t even know what took over you but you certainly relish in his reaction. Your eyes watching him carefully, his pupils dilated as he watches you hungrily, cheeks flushed, swollen lips parted prettily.   

“Shit, baby.” His voice on the whiny side now, and you feel his other hand tightening on your hip. He’s very clearly turned on and you almost feel bad for torturing him, considering he’s done nothing but please you. He pushes his fingers deeper inside your mouth wanting you to taste yourself and you swirl your tongue around them, harshly sucking, making a mess on purpose. You let a satisfied hum around his digits, closing your eyes as you pull them out with a wet pop.   

“You’re being unfair now.” He grunts and grabs the back of your neck, crashing his lips against yours in an open-mouthed kiss. Teeth clashing and tongues tangling messily as he licks into your mouth obscenely, moaning at the taste of you. You let out a surprised yelp when his fingers find your oversensitive cunt again and he dips them between your puffy lips, rubbing them up and down, like he did before, unforgivingly ignoring your protesting sounds. “Still so wet.” He mutters into the kiss and you whine pathetically.   

“Mmf-, too much.” You force the words out against his mouth and grab his wrist in urgency this time. He laughs meanly but obliges anyway. He brings his soaked fingers up to his own lips this time and you can’t seem to be able to break eye contact as he slowly sucks on them, making a spectacle, the act much more intimate when he’s the one doing it.   

Once he’s done, he drops his hand on your waist, wiping the wetness on the material of his hoodie and kisses you again, this time slow, languidly, wanting to savour your taste and he moans when your hands start unbuckling his belt. “Can I make you cum?” You murmur into the kiss and he’s contemplating but just as he's about to kiss you again, the moment is ruined by a wandering Jaemin, who rolls the doors open and lets out a shocked sound when he steps out.   

“Oh shit, sorry.” His eyes widen when he realises it’s you and Haechan he’s walked in on and not a couple of strangers. “Oh shit.” He says again, with more emphasis this time and you bury your face in Haechan’s shoulder to hide your embarrassment. His arm around your waist tightens in reassurance, sensing your unease and you smile against his neck in silent gratitude. “Yo!” Jaemin says loudly and points an accusatory finger at both of you. "What the fuck? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”   

“Jaem, read the fucking room.” Haechan’s tone is slightly harsh but his touch feels delicate where his hand strokes gently on your waist. “Go back inside, we’ll join you in a bit.”   

Jaemin grins mischievously. “Well, most people have gone home now, I just came out to have a smoke, but I’ll leave you to it.” He moves to head back inside but before shutting the big glass door he pokes his head out again. “Oh, just fyi, Chenle is passed out on the sofa and Mark is still in there somewhere, just in case you’re planning on fucking out here.” His expression then changes, eyes narrowing as he inspects both of you from head to toe, a look of realisation taking over his face. 

“Unless you already have?” He poses quizzically. 

“You’ll go back inside now, unless you want Jeno finding out about last-“   

”Kay bye!” Jaemin quickly shuts the door, fleeing the scene before Haechan can finish his sentence.  

“Sorry about him.” Haechan mutters, burying his face into your shoulder and lets out a sigh. “Half his brain cells appear to be dead.” You snort at his jokey comment but you can sense the irritation in his voice. You run your fingers through his hair, scratching on the back of his neck and smile to yourself when you feel him shiver against you, his cheek resting on your shoulder.   

He lifts his head, looking down your figure as his hands slide down your hips and onto the tops of your thighs, dipping under the hem of your dress and before you can protest, he slips your underwear back into place. His knuckles drag against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and your breath hitches when you feel him tap his fingers against your core lightly. He laughs when you slap his hand away and you narrow your eyes at him scoldingly. You relax when he smooths over the fabric of your dress to make it look less wrinkled and you find yourself fighting a smile at the sweet gesture. It feels domestic almost. 

“Thanks.” You say softly, eyes locking with his. He smiles and leans down to quickly peck you on the lips. His hands caress your sides one last time and then they slide up, squeezing your tits softly in the process, the pads of his fingers lightly dipping into the flesh that spills over the top of your tight dress.  

”Pretty.” He mumbles almost to himself and if you were under the impression he was an ass man, now you're thinking you might have been wrong. He continues his journey upwards, taming your messy hair, gently combing stray strands behind your ears. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”   

When you step back inside, you both quietly laugh at the sight of poor Chenle sprawled face first on his new sofa and you’re pretty sure he’s drooling on it. Haechan heads into the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water, which he places on the coffee table next to Chenle’s unmoving body. He then maneuvers him carefully, turning him on his side so he doesn’t choke to death in his sleep with his face buried in the cushions. You smile at the thoughtful gesture, and you move to grab your bag from the coffee table to distract yourself from the fluttering in your stomach.   

“’Will he be okay on his own?” A tinge of concern in his eyes.   

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He always passes out like this when he gets too drunk.” You lean down and leave a small kiss on Chenle’s temple, brushing the hair away from his forehead. “I’d say he looks angelic but he’s actually the devil incarnate.” You whisper, observing Chenle’s cute face, and you can confirm he’s actually drooling on his sofa. 

_

The walk back to your place is mostly quiet but comfortable. Haechan swings your interlocked hands distractedly as you’re both walking at a slow pace, trying to prolong the night for as long as possible. 

“What’s Jaemin’s dirty laundry then? You threatened him you’d tell Jeno earlier.” You break the silence and he chuckles at your question. 

“He had sex in Jeno’s bed last year.” He chuckles as he spills the secret and looks at you, gauging your reaction. 

“Sounds like someone needs to teach that boy a lesson.” You say, and before you can stop the words tumbling out of your mouth, “Maybe we should fuck in his bed.” Your eyes widen at your own words and Haechan’s head snaps up to look you, mirroring your shocked expression. And then he laughs loudly. A kind of laugh you’ve never heard from him. His hand rests on his abdomen as if his stomach is in pain.   

“Alright it’s not that funny.” You pout in embarrassment. “In my head it sounded kind of sexy.”   

His laugh gradually dies down until there’s just amusement written on his face. “I mean, we can do that if you actually want to, but I have other priorities.”   

“Meaning?” 

“Well..” He trails in thought. “Ideally, I'd like to take you out first,” You feel like exploding but you maintain a stoic expression, gesturing him to continue. “And I'd rather fuck you in my own bed before moving on to Jaemin’s or anyone else’s.”   

Your breath catches at his forwardness and you’re suddenly struggling to find the right words. “Umm,” you think carefully. “What about my bed?” You ask innocently.   

"Don't worry, it's up there." His smirk makes you feel weak and you feel him squeeze your hand in his, running his thumb over the back of it.   

“You sound awfully confident.” You say calmly, fighting a smile.  

He pulls you closer by your hand. “What, you think I’m playing?” He almost sounds offended.   

“I dunno, don’t really know much about you.” You shrug. 

“Do you want to?” He asks and for the first time he sounds nervous.   

You squeeze his hand the same way he did with yours, hoping to reassure him. “I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I do.” You halt your movements when you reach your building and look up into his eyes. “A lot.” His fingers stay intertwined with yours lazily. A relieved smile takes over his expression, and you really feel like kissing him again. He looks shy all of a sudden and a giggle escapes your throat. “Cute.”   

He clicks his tongue to show annoyance, and you can see him poking the muscle against the inside of his cheek, trying to hold back a smile when he looks away for a second. Then he steps closer, invading your space again. “You wanna give me your number? I don’t really use instagram.”   

“Okay, green flag.” You say playfully and he snorts. You hold your hand out for him to pass you his phone and when you’ve saved your contact, you text yourself a “hi” so you can save his number too.   

“Cool.” He says casually as he shoves his phone in his back pocket.   

“Cool.” You say back and step closer to him, wanting to feel his warmth one more time before parting ways. He smiles in understanding and pulls you closer, wrapping both arms around your waist to hold your body flush against his. You wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head on his chest. “I had fun tonight.” You murmur.  

He rests his chin at the top of your head. One of his hands sneaks up and holds the back of your neck gently while the other strokes the small of your back. “I did too.” His fingers bury in your hair, gently pulling to make you look at him but you don’t get the chance, because his lips are on yours instantly, dragging slowly, carefully. Both his hands cup your face as he licks your bottom lip for access, which you give without a second thought and his tongue sneaks in to play with yours, letting you taste him. Your body completely relaxes against his, enjoying the warm feeling of his chest against yours.  

You whine when he pulls back to look at you and he smiles when your lips trail after his. He gives in with a smile, chastely kissing you again. No tongue this time, but he playfully sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you love how safe you feel in his arms. He trails up, kissing the tip of your nose and back down again as he gives you another wet smooch before creating a tiny bit of distance between your lips while still maintaining the closeness between your bodies.  

You smile against his jaw as you slip your hand into his empty back pocket, lightly squeezing his ass cheek and he laughs at your playfulness.

“Okay, you better go now before I drag you upstairs with me.” You give him a little kiss on the cheek before slipping away from his warmth. You take off his hoodie and hand it back to him.   

"Mmm okay." He moves away reluctantly. “I’ll text you yeah?” He says with a cute smile.  

“I’ll try and text you back.” You tease and he rolls his eyes, his smile not faltering.   

“Night, Y/N.” He quietly says in the night air and you melt at the way your name rolls off his tongue.  

“Night, Haechan.” You give him a small wave goodbye and watch him walk away.   

_

The next morning, you're quietly munching on your cereal, lost in thought, reminiscing last night like it’s a distant memory, when you see a hungover Jeno messily stumbling out of Ningning's room, carrying his shoes in one hand and his jacket in the other. "Didn't care to take off your shoes at the door?" Your voice seems to startle him in the quiet of the morning.   

"Shit!" His reaction making you laugh. "Fuck, Y/N, you scared me."  

"Sorry." You're really not. "Are you pulling a French exit on my friend?" Your serious tone seems to intimidate him.  

"No, she's awake, just snoozing." He says quickly. "I swear." You try not to laugh at the nervousness written all over his face. "Nothing happened, we just cuddled."   

"Relax, I'm just fucking with you." You chuckle at his disheveled state. "Want some breakfast? I can offer three kinds of cereal." You point at your selection of boxes.  

His eyes widen eagerly at that. "Sure, thanks." He walks towards where you're sitting at the kitchen table, dropping his shoes on the floor and his jacket on the back of his chair, before taking a seat across from you. "I'll just have what you're having." He says with a sweet smile, eyes almost disappearing and you realise he sort of looks like a Samoyed puppy but refrain from making a comment. You’re not that close after all.  

You nod and get up to grab him a bowl. He's looking at his phone when he speaks up again. "So, you and Haechan?" You hold back a smile as you pass him a bowl with a spoon and the milk. He looks at you again and he explains when he sees your questioning stare. "Jaemin messaged the group chat."  

"Ah," You nod in understanding. "Of course."  

"So?" He asks expectantly, chewing loudly after he's poured the milk in his cheerios.   

"What, you can't wait until he tells you himself?" You ask sarcastically.  

"Girls' perspectives are always better." He pauses mid munch. "Plus, Haechan is the most private dude when it comes to stuff like that." For some reason that doesn't surprise you.   

"Good for him." You get up to wash your bowl after finishing. "Maybe you're just too nosy."   

"Oh c'mon, it's not that big of a deal, is it?" Your silence seems to intrigue him. "Or maybe it is?"  

You turn to look at him when you're done washing up, leaning next to the sink and you see he's already devoured the contents of his bowl. "Feel free to go for seconds." You say pointing at the box in front of him and his face lights up before he starts pouring more cereal.   

"Do you like him then?" He asks casually as he starts munching again and the question makes you falter. "Because, if you do," He swallows. "I can confirm it's reciprocated." Your eyebrows lift at his confession and Jeno smirks at your shocked expression. "Just spill, I won't tell him." And you trust his words, but you suddenly feel shy, thinking about your intimate moments with Haechan.   

"I'll tell you if you tell me about you and Ning." You like knowing boys' perspectives too.  

"Sounds fair." He nods with his mouth full.   

"You want the TMI or PG-13 version?" You appreciate he's still eating so you don't want to ruin his breakfast.

"TMI, always." He says casually.  

"He fingered me on Chenle's balcony and then said he wants to take me out." Jeno chokes at your confession.  

"Jesus woman!" He coughs lightly and clears his throat before continuing. "No tact whatsoever."  

You snort at his reaction. "You said 'TMI always' no?"  

"Was it good?" He asks in a quieter and more serious tone now. Like he's asking you to share one of your deepest secrets. And here you were thinking you weren’t that close. You can’t help but laugh because that sounds like what Ningning would have asked in a situation like this. Maybe they are a good match after all.   

"The fingering?" He nods at your question, eyes not leaving yours, having paused his eating, spoon still in hand hovering over his bowl. "I mean, I thought I was gonna pass out at some point so, yeah, pretty good."  

An eyebrow raised in fascination. "Damn, go Haechan." Then he asks carefully. "So, I take it you'd go out with him?"  

You shrug. "Maybe, but I don’t think I want a situationship or anything like that."  

"You're in luck, he's not into that shit either." 

"We'll see, he hasn't texted yet." You try to sound casual but you know Jeno can see right through you.   

"Don't worry, he will."   

"Who says I'm worried?" You huff a humorless laugh.   

He rolls his eyes and gets up to walk over to the sink, taking his bowl with him. "If he said he wants to take you out, he meant it. And trust me when I say, that boy has had enough of casual flings. He might be going about it a bit backwards, but he’s definitely interested." He states like it's a fact and you're thankful he's trying to reassure you even though he doesn't owe you anything.   

"How do you know it's reciprocated?" You ask carefully, referring to what Jeno said earlier and he smiles cheekily.   

"I thought you weren't worried." He teases, moving his eyebrows up and down and you flick the back of his head. "Ow! Okay okay, jeez." He rubs the sore spot with the inside of his wrist to prevent his soapy fingers from touching his hair. He then proceeds to dry the clean bowl with the kitchen towel he spots on the counter and hands it to you with a sweet smile on his face.   

"Thanks, you didn't have to wash up." You say, putting the bowl back on its shelf. He waves his hand, gesturing that there's no need to thank him for something so small.  

"He said he thought you were ‘pretty cool’ after we hounded you on Thursday and for the first time in, like, forever, he was stressing about his outfit before a party."  

You give him a pointed look. "How’s that an indication of anything?"  

"Trust me, that's enough indication for Haechan. He's probably already planning your wedding as we speak." You roll your eyes at his exaggeration. "Y/N, he likes you. It was so obvious that both me and Jaem knew he was gonna make a move last night." He sits down again and starts putting his shoes on. "Obviously, I didn't think he was gonna finger you in a public space and what not but-"  

"To be fair, I initiated that." You interrupt him and he snorts.  

"I'm sure he didn't mind." Jeno jokes with a smirk, and you cover your face in embarrassment, earning a chuckle from him. He must be enjoying this because he proceeds to tease even more. "If anything, he probably found that incredibly hot." You groan at his words. "Seriously, there's nothing hotter than a woman who knows what she wants."   

You look at him through your fingers still covering your face, a teasing comment pops in your head. Two can certainly play this game.   

"That explains why you didn't sleep in your own bed last night." You notice the blush that creeps up on his cheeks and you can help but cross your arms over your chest proudly.  

"Yeah, something like that." He says sheepishly, his hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck and you suddenly can't wait for your debrief with Ningning later. "Anyway, my point is, I think you should give him a chance." He finishes putting his shoes on, both feet on the floor now and he looks at you, his back leaning against the chair and his arms crossing over his chest. "He's a great guy." 

"Alright, enough about me, your turn now."   

_

Haechan likes to think he's a decent guy. He's got his life together; he's on top of his coursework, he gets decent grades, he's got good friends and he's got a part-time job at a record store that pays relatively well. At least well enough to cover his own personal expenses. His parents help him out with rent, but they do appreciate his efforts and he does his best to not feel like a burden. He's a good son and a good big brother to all three of his siblings. 

He's polite to old people and even helps them cross the street when he needs to, he loves his friends and always looks out for them, even if he gets grumpy sometimes, he never holds grudges and is upfront about things that bother him. He likes buying his loved ones presents and not just for special occasions. Not because he's a people pleaser, but because he just likes making them happy whenever he can. He tries not to lie except for the odd white lie here and there.

He doesn't fuck around or date aimlessly. At least not anymore. He went through a phase during his first year of uni but it's been two years since then and he's currently embracing single life. Yes, he sometimes does cave into the temptation of bringing a girl back after a party, but it's a rare occurrence and he's always honest about what he wants. He hates leading people on. It's not that he's afraid of commitment, he often finds himself wanting a girlfriend but he's not actively searching for one either.   

He knows he doesn't lack in the looks department, or in any other department really. Yeah, he's got his silly insecurities like everyone else but he's a confident guy overall. Although, he does admit that he can sometimes be cocky, that's because he knows he's the most mature out of his friends. Yes, Renjun mostly looks after everyone and has a motherly figure, but Haechan gives the best advice when it comes to most serious life dilemmas, and he's aware of that. He might not be the brightest when it comes to academics but he's confident when it comes to navigating life sensibly and responsibly. That's why he was completely and utterly flabbergasted when you came into the picture. His picture.   

He's always noticed you before, yes, and he's always thought you were good looking, but that's about it. He doesn't just go around hitting on every girl he finds attractive. He's more of a 'personality above all else' type of man, so when he first saw you, even though he thought to himself 'wow, pretty', he didn't think it would be appropriate to just come up to you and ask for your number. Plus, you seemed somewhat reserved from the few times you had exchanged words. Not that he didn't like that, because he did, he did find you intriguing, he would get to know you if the opportunity posed itself to him, but he also didn't feel like chasing after you would be something you'd like or even welcome. You didn't seem cold, just indifferent. And so, he kind of just opted to observing you from afar.

Sometimes you were alone, other times you were with a girl whose name he didn't know, others with a boy whose name he couldn't remember. He was sure they'd met before though, maybe at a party around campus or maybe through a friend? He couldn't quite place him. Other times you were with them both, laughing your heart out at whatever you three were talking about and he found himself wondering what makes you laugh that hard.   

He knew you always sat two rows behind him in his stats class every Thursday afternoon, his last class of that day. However, he rarely got to see you on Thursdays, even though you were both in the same room for an hour and a half. You always arrived after him and left before him, so, whenever he turned his head at the end of the lecture to look for you, you were already gone. The times he did get to see you, were the times he would turn up a little later than normal, which was exactly one minute before the professor started speaking. Even then, he wasn't really able to observe you for as long as he'd ideally like. He would just get to see the back of your head for a few seconds before reaching his usual seat. He sometimes would pretend to crack his back, just to turn around twice and look at your pretty face for a few seconds. Your attention was always on the notes in front of you though. One time he did catch you already staring at him. You looked away the second his eyes met yours, almost shy. He found it cute and thought to himself; 'maybe she's not that indifferent after all'.   

He knew you and Jeno were somewhat friendly because you shared a few classes and he was sure he'd caught you speaking with Jaemin a couple times in corridors. He wasn't jealous or anything, but he definitely wouldn't mind being on first name basis with you too. And it's not like he was obsessed with you. He didn't really think about you that much, but his intrigue definitely intensified when he got to speak to you properly for the first time at that party just before summer. He can’t clearly remember what you two exactly talked about, but he does remember not wanting to leave, he remembers thinking you looked unreal and he certainly remembers wishing he could relive that moment sober so he could memorise every word that came out of your mouth.   

Things have changed now though. Drastically and unexpectedly. Because just two days ago he got to speak to you again and his curiosity morphed into excitement.

You pleasantly surprised him. From the way you handled yourself around Jaemin's obnoxiously loud personality to the way you put Jeno in his place like no girl ever has before. You were witty and smart and sweet. Too sweet. And he knows that, because he's quite literally tasted you now. Just a few hours ago he had you pinned against the wall of your friend's new apartment. Just a few hours ago he had you gasping and writhing and pathetically whining his name, simply because his fingers were too much for you. And he loved every second of it.   

Haechan didn't really go to Chenle's party thinking he'd get some. He was just excited to get to know you and speak to you one on one. He went into the situation hoping he could maybe flirt with you and end up with your number in his contact list at the end of the night, which he did. And maybe he was hoping he could get to walk you home and get a kiss from you, which again, he did. But he didn't expect you'd reciprocate his flirting like you were prepared for it. He definitely didn't expect you'd ask him who and what he wants to write songs about and he definitely didn't expect you to kiss him back the way you did.

He's kissed many people before. He's had good kisses, bad ones, a few memorable ones and certainly a lot of forgettable ones. He's never kissed anyone the way he kissed you, though. And he's equally never had anyone kiss him the way you kissed him. Not even ex-girlfriends. Not that he's had many, but the two he's had don't even come close. And that scares him. Because if Haechan thought he wasn't obsessed with you before, he really doesn't know what to think now. But what he does know is that it’s incredibly unfair of you to make him feel and think this much, this soon.

It's still early, the sun barely out. He's maybe managed to get four hours of sleep before getting woken up by the sound of someone retching in the bathroom down the hall. Most likely Jaemin. He almost fell asleep again after that but the sound of a door slamming, completely ruined his slumber. So, now he's just staring at his ceiling, one arm supporting his head on the pillow and the other resting lazily on his naked stomach. He feels tired but he knows he won't be able to go back to sleep now. And that's fine, because he can at least think about you. He can think about your voice and your scent and he can think about how you touched him and how you let him touch you. He can think about how you tried to keep quiet in the midst of pleasure but miserably failed repeatedly. And he's definitely going to think about how good you felt around his fingers. Perfect. There are so many things he can think about when it comes to you and there's not a single bad one. Everything related to you is good.   

You said you wanted to get to know him 'a lot', and that was exactly what he wanted to hear, but he can't help but wonder when you started to feel this way. Not that it matters that much, because, regardless of the timeline, he's going to make it happen. He's going to take you out and he's going to get to know you. He's almost worried that he's going about this in the wrong order, because, ideally, he would have wanted to take you out before any kissing and sexual activities took place. Not because he's old fashioned or some kind of prude, but because he doesn't want you getting the wrong impression. He doesn't want you thinking he's only into you because of the sexual chemistry you share. Of course, he thinks physical intimacy is important, but he's always found that emotional intimacy beats all. And he wants to see if he can get to that level with you. He knows you're compatible sexually, he could tell last night you were on the same wavelength. There was no awkwardness, no uncertainty. 

He could tell you knew your body well, that you knew what you wanted and he liked that you weren't shy about it. And he'd be lying if he said that wasn't one of his favourite parts of the night; the moment you guided his hand where you wanted it. He found that so attractive that he actually thought about it when he got in his bed last night and finally managed to relieve the hardness in his boxers. He loved that you weren't shy about how much you wanted him to touch you. You were the perfect amount of vocal, and your body reacted to his words the way he hoped it would. So, yes, he is positive sexual chemistry isn’t something you two would struggle with, but he also doesn't want it to be the main thing that you connect on. He wants a lot more than that.   

Haechan is self-aware. He's a horny guy and he's not shy about it. He likes what he likes and there's not much he doesn't like when it comes to sex. He's very much open to exploring and what not, but he knows that he's always struggled connecting with people on an emotional level before. Especially people he's dated. He's had flings and he's had casual sexual partners. He's been in a couple of serious relationships, and he's been infatuated with his ex-girlfriends or ex flings, but he knows he’s never been in love with any of them. He remembers thinking he loved his first girlfriend, but he was only 16 back then and when he thinks back to that relationship, he barely sees it as a relationship. All they ever did was go on walks, watch movies, cuddle and make out. Eventually it just fizzled out. 

His second relationship was serious, but toxic. He remembers enjoying the push-and-pull situation initially but when it all became so unbearably exhausting, it put him off relationships for a long time. Now that he's had time to be alone and process his own feelings, he knows he's capable of commitment, but he wants it to be with the right person, and he wants it to be with someone who will accept him for who he is. Haechan knows that if he found the one now, he would commit. And he doesn't know if you're the one, but he wouldn't mind exploring if you would stick around for the long run.   

And so, later in the day, when he's lazily sprawled on the sofa, next to a hungover Jeno, who apparently saw you this morning and reassured him that you're definitely interested, Haechan decides to finally text you like he promised. When he opens your chat, he sees you've already texted yourself to save his number and added a little sunflower emoji next to your name and he smiles to himself. He wonders if you've added an emoji next to his name too and if so, which one?  

20:03 Hae☀️: hey pretty   

20:03 Hae☀️: have any free periods tomorrow?   

20:09 y/n🌻: hii :)  

20:09 y/n🌻: i do 

20:10 y/n🌻: I am free between 1pm-3pm   

20:11 Hae☀️: wanna grab a coffee with me? 

20:12 y/n🌻: i'd love to 

20:13 Hae☀️: woop! 

20:13 Hae☀️: where shall I meet you?  

20:18 y/n🌻: how about the café by the architecture building?  

20:21 Hae☀️: i know the one  

20:21 Hae☀️: i'll be there there at 1pm sharp  

20:22 Hae☀️: don't stand me up 👉🏻👈🏻  

20:24 y/n🌻: i would never 🥺  

20:25 Hae☀️: thought about you a lot today  

20:26 y/n🌻: really?  

20:26 y/n🌻: what did you think about?  

20:28 Hae☀️: yes really  

20:28 Hae☀️: just...things   

20:29 Hae☀️: can't say much more than that   

20:29 Hae☀️: did you not think about me? :( 

20:31 y/n🌻: nah   

20:31 y/n🌻: not really :(  

20:32 Hae☀️: 🙄  

20:32 Hae☀️: ur rude  

20:32 Hae☀️: and a liar    

20:34 y/n🌻: oops  

20:34 y/n🌻: why ask a question you already know the answer to?   

20:35 Hae☀️: smooth   

20:35 Hae☀️: i guess i needed some reassurance  

20:36 y/n🌻: Hae?  

20:36 Hae☀️: yea?  

20:37 y/n🌻: I thought about you  

20:37 y/n🌻: a lot   

20:37 y/n🌻: like an unhealthy amount  

20:38 Hae☀️: fuck   

20:38 Hae☀️: didn't think you'd actually say it  

20:40 y/n🌻: happy?  

20:40 y/n🌻: it appears I can't say no to you  

20:41 Hae☀️: very :)  

20:41 Hae☀️: it appears the feeling is mutual  

The rest of Haechan's evening consists of him pretending he's paying attention to the Netflix show Jeno picked out for them to watch after dinner, when the only thing he's actually interested in are the messages he's exchanging with you. You told him you're also chilling on your couch with Ningning, watching a crime documentary with a bowl of instant ramen.  

"Bruh, you're astronomically whipped." Jeno laughs to himself, the constant buzzing coming from  Haechan's phone making it obvious that he's been messaging you.   

"Yeah, so? Deal with it." Haechan doesn't even lift his head to look at Jeno, just keeps smiling distractedly at his screen.   

Jeno snorts. "At least you're not denying it." He turns his attention back to the show he's practically been watching on his own for the past hour. "I respect that."  

Haechan looks up at Jeno and shrugs. "I'm no fraud, Lee Jeno. You, of all people, should know that." And that earns him laugh with a nod of approval.   

“You asked her out yet?” The question casual. No teasing tone detected, just curiosity.   

"I'm seeing her tomorrow between classes." Haechan's attention back on your chat.   

“Like a coffee date?” Jeno asks cutely and Haechan just responds with a nod, his thumbs hovering over his keyboard as he looks up at Jeno, waiting for some sort of comment.  

“That's a good first date.” Jeno's words of approval offer Haechan a sense of relief he didn't know he needed. "Just good quality time, no pressure."  

“Yeah, that's what I was thinking.” Haechan's eyes are on the tv now, but he isn't really paying attention to the programme.  

Jeno sees right through him. "You nervous?"  

Haechan thinks about his response. Is he nervous? “More excited than nervous, I'd say.” Haechan looks up at him when he's met with silence. "What?" He asks confused when he notices his friend's amused expression.   

“Nothing, just trying to think when you turned into an absolute sap.” And he laughs loudly when Haechan hits him in the face with one of the cushions scattered on the sofa. “Relaaaaax you big baby, I'm just messing with you.” Jeno throws the cushion back at Haechan and he catches is with a grunt. “I actually think this is good. You haven't dated anyone half decent in a long time.”   

Haechan snorts, because Jeno's words hold nothing but the truth. “True.” He states with a purse of his lips.   

“If your first date is casual vibes, you should do something fancy for the second one.” Jeno says in a skeptical tone.  

“Since when are you a dating expert?”  

“Shut up, you've been dying to ask for advice and you know it.” He's right, but Haechan would never admit that. “It should also be on a Friday or Saturday so you don't have to worry about being hungover in class.” Jeno points a finger at Haechan. “Karaoke could be fun!”  

“Where are you taking Ningning?” Jeno's eyes widen at the question and Haechan chuckles triumphantly. "You ever gonna tell me about that or nah?"  

“Your new girlfriend can tell you all about it tomorrow.” Jeno crosses his arms over his chest after pulling the hood of his jumper over his head.   

“Yeah, we're gonna spend the entirety of our first date talking about your sexcapades.” Haechan responds sarcastically.   

“No sexcapades, she said she's not currently dating.” Jeno says quickly with a frown.   

“And that's a problem for you, because..?” Haechan gestures with his hand for Jeno to explain. “Is your ego hurt or something?”  

Jeno shrugs his shoulders like a toddler. “Just a bit disappointing, you know?”  

“Shit.” Haechan says with a tone of fascination. “So, you're into her then.”  

Jeno shrugs with a huff and Haechan almost feels bad.   

“Did you sleep with her or nah?”  

“Nah, just cuddled.” Jeno admits, voice laced with disappointment.   

“Jeno,” Haechan pinches the bridge of his nose to show exasperation. “You're an idiot.”  

“Wha- why?” Jeno's eyes widen at his friend's insult.   

“Are you being daft on purpose? She would've fucked you and chucked you out if she wasn't interested.” Haechan is putting the facts out on the table as if it's going to help Jeno realise what is happening, but to no avail. “She's clearly aware of your reputation.”   

Jeno perks up at that. "What about my reputation?" His eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.   

Haechan kisses his teeth. "You're a certified slut."  

“Yeah and? What am I meant to do?”  

“Well, if you want her, you're gonna have to work for it.” Haechan says like it's self-explanatory.  

"I don't chase." Jeno mumbles stubbornly.   

"No Ningning then." And Jeno scoffs at Haechan's patronising tone. "Sounds like you're in need of advice more than I am."  

_

You can't really wrap your head around the fact that you're currently walking to your favourite café in campus, only this time you're not meeting up with your two best friends, you’re meeting with Haechan instead. Fuck. You're meeting up with Haechan.  

You don't even know if you're supposed to call this a date. He said he wanted to hang out with you and that he can't wait to see you, but people say all sorts of things, and you don't want to get ahead of yourself. You wonder if he's nervous like you are, or if he sees this as a casual coffee break in between his routine. But then again, if it's just that, why ask you and not one of his friends? You told yourself this morning that you wouldn't overthink, but you're now realising that you're miserably failing. Ningning would not be proud.  

You check the time on your phone and that instant it buzzes in your hand. Your heart beats a little quicker.   

12:55 Hae☀️: what do you want?   

12:55 y/n🌻: in life or..?  

12:56 Hae☀️: lmao  

12:56 Hae☀️: to drink silly  

12:56 Hae☀️: we can talk about what you want in life when you get here  

12:57 y/n🌻: caramel iced latte pls and thank you :)  

12:57 y/n🌻: im 2 mins away btw  

12:57 Hae☀️: thought you didn't like sweet things   

12:58 Hae☀️: no rush, just ordering now  

12:58 y/n🌻: i like my coffee sweet  

12:58 y/n🌻: among other things  

12:59 Hae☀️: cheeky   

12:59 y/n🌻: im here   

13:00 y/n🌻: where you at?   

13:00 Hae☀️: you look cute   

13:00 Hae☀️: to your left   

And there he is, sitting at a table by the window, already looking at you, head tilted, eyes pretty, smile saccharine sweet. His phone is still in his hand, thumb hovering over the screen and you notice there's a new ring adorning the digit. His other hand raises and his fingers wiggle, playfully waving at you. You already feel flustered and you think that it should be illegal for a man to be this handsome.  

When you walk over, he stands up and casually lifts an arm for you to slot under. "Hey you." He says quietly and you smile. Your arms instinctively wrap around his middle, and your face buries in his shoulder, taking in his familiar scent. It immediately brings you comfort, your overthinking long forgotten. You feel his arms squeezing around your figure and he playfully rocks you from side to side. You giggle and pull back slightly to look at him.   

“Hey you.” You repeat his words back at him and his smile is nothing short of mesmerising. His lovely doe eyes hold warmth and tiny stars that you feel could burn you if you stare into them for too long, so you decide to look at the table instead. You spot your iced latte, placed opposite what you assume is an iced americano. “Thanks for getting my coffee, you didn't have to.”   

“I wanted to.” He states plainly and unwraps his arms from you, allowing you to sit down before taking his own seat opposite you. It almost feels strange sitting with him like this, seeing him in this light. Not in a lecture hall and not at a party surrounded by your friends. Just the two of you, on a Monday, sitting at your favourite café, in the middle of the day. It’s real. It’s mundane. “Are you hungry? We can get something to eat if you want.” He speaks so fast, one would think he’s trying to cover up nerves.   

You smile at his attentiveness and shake your head. “I’m good for now, thanks.”   

“Okay.” He doesn’t press and you can’t help but think he looks so boyfriend coded. His big forest green jumper makes him look extra cuddly and you want to bury your face in his neck again. “Heard you bumped into Jeno yesterday.” He says, filling the silence before taking a sip of his coffee.   

“Yeah, I interrupted his walk of shame.” You chuckle at the memory. “He looked quite embarrassed, bless him.” You twirl your straw, staring at the condensation dripping down your cup. “Didn’t realise he was that nosy though.” You say with a grin and your eyes move to look at Haechan who’s mirroring you.   

His lips curl into a smirk. “Why, did he ask about-” He pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words. “About Saturday night.” His eyebrow raises inquisitively.   

Your chin rests on your hand. “Mm-hm, apparently Jaemin messaged your group chat.”   

Haechan snorts and you assume he knows which message you’re referring to. “Yeah, if you found Jeno nosy, good luck tolerating Jaemin.”   

“I’m just hoping we didn’t scar him for life.”   

“I mean,” he shrugs, gently tapping his fingers on the table surface. “He didn’t actually see anything.” His tone suggestive, eyes watching you, trying to gauge a reaction. “Had he walked out a few minutes earlier-”   

“Shut up.” You warn and cover your eyes with both hands in embarrassment, smiling against your palms at the sound of his pretty laugh.  

“C’monnnn,” he reaches across the table and takes hold of your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face so he’s able to look at you properly, while holding your hands in his, in the most delicate way. You stubbornly look away, trying to hide the blush that has taken over your face. “Aww don't be embarrassed.” He coos and squeezes your wrists in his hands, his thumbs sneaking under your sweater paws, rubbing gently against your pulse points, causing goosebumps to raise on your arms. “Okay, I’m sorry, I won’t tease anymore today, I promise.” He says in a playful tone but you still don’t look at him and maintain the pout on your face. A quick kiss on the inside of your wrist earns him your attention and then another on the opposite one makes you break your resolve completely, your eyes now on his. “Yay, there she is.”   

“You’re annoying.” You huff and he chuckles again.   

“And you’re still blushing.”   

You retract your hand from his hold and attempt to flick at his forehead, but he grasps it again before you’re able to. He interlocks his fingers with yours and gives you a toothy grin. His perfect teeth showing and his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “How do you expect me to not feel embarrassed when you act like-” You stop yourself from saying what's on your mind and he perks up at your hesitation, eyebrows raised.   

“Like what?” He asks, his voice laced with intrigue.  

“The way you do.” Your gaze moves to your connected hands, taking in the way his fingers look slotted between yours. Perfect. Like they belong there.   

“You don’t like the way I act?” His bottom lip jutting out in a fake pout, gently stroking the back of your thumb with his own.   

“No, I do but-” You observe how his palm opens against your own, fingers extending and yours instinctively mirror the action, elbows pressed on the table and your heart flutters at how big his hand looks compared to yours.   

“But?” He’s also looking at your hands now and slots his fingers between yours again, his grip tight, his palm warm and you worry he can feel how clammy yours is.   

“You’re just too forward.”   

“Is that a bad thing?” His tone more serious now, his eyes observing you. “I told you; I never intended to be subtle with you.” His hold on your hand loosening. “But I can stop if you’re uncomfortable.”  

“No.” Your hand tightening its hold, quietly indicating you don’t want him to let go and he sports a cheeky smile, like he expected you to react that way. “I’m just not used to this.”   

His eyes are curious now. “Used to people being forward?” You nod at his question. He thinks about it for a moment. “You were pretty forward yourself the other night.” 

“That’s different.” You say calmly.   

“How come?”   

“Nights like that don’t happen all the time.” You explain with a shrug, without giving away too much. 

His expression softens, and his nods in understanding. “So, you knew you wanted me before the party then.” He says it like a statement but you know he’s asking as he watches you with expectant eyes. His hand leaves yours momentarily, dropping on the table, palm facing up, waiting for your own hand to drop back into his. And it does. You trace your fingertips from his wrist to the middle of his palm, drawing along the lines there. His own fingers raising slightly to tickle against your palm, tracing patterns and you feel giddy. He’s emitting this softness you’ve never encountered in a romantic partner before and you’re not sure if you can handle it. But you want to be able to.  

“I did, yeah.” You admit with a smile, eyes finding his wide ones. “Why are you so surprised?”   

“I just- I did too.” He bites the inside of his bottom lip in thought. “Just wasn’t sure how to approach you before.” Your own surprise evident. “Why are you so surprised?” He mimics your question with a playful tone.  

“Since when?” You ask, wanting to know more.  

He hums skeptically, and you feel his knee bumping into yours under the small table, “I mean, I’ve always been intrigued.” He moves again and you feel both his knees rubbing against yours now. “But I knew I was into you after we spoke at that party in June.” Both your knees are trapped between his now and you can’t help but feel flustered, your fingers limp in his palm while his index is still tracing the inside of your wrist. It slightly tickles but it’s welcome. “You?”   

You could lie and say it was the same for you. That you realised you were interested when you finally spoke for the first time. But you don’t really want to, and you don’t see the point. “I think- I can’t really place it, but I was definitely interested before June.” You expect him to tease, but he just nods in understanding, gesturing you to continue. “And I could tell you were kind of flirting, when we briefly spoke last week, so, I thought Chenle's party was the perfect time to act on it.”   

“So, you’ve had a crush on me?” He smirks and his knees squeeze yours between them, finally teasing you. "Cute.” He says under his breath, eyes move to your lips for a second and then up to your eyes again. “You should’ve said something sooner.” He raises his drink and his lips wrap around the straw and you can’t help but look, remembering what they felt like on yours, on your skin, what they looked like wrapped around his fingers when he wanted a taste of you.   

“I didn’t think you would’ve reciprocated.” You say bashfully and he looks at you, like he finds your words absurd.  

He puts his drink down again. “I'd be clinically insane.”   

His words emit a small laugh from you. "Well, I'm glad you're somewhat sane."  

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" The question unexpected and your eyebrows raise in surprise. "Sun's out again." He points his chin towards the window and you turn your head to look outside. The autumn leaves are still falling but he's right. The sun is out for the first time in a few days. "Promise I'll have you back by three." He says in a playful tone and you look back at him, pretending to consider his suggestion, even though, you know you won’t decline.

_ 

Haechan isn't really a big fan of autumn. He doesn't hate it, but he certainly likes summertime the most. He likes being able to walk down the beach with no layers on and no worry that it'll get cold late at night. He likes the way the sun feels on his skin and he definitely prefers the way he looks when he's sun kissed. He finds that everyone looks good in the sun.  

He's always associated the idea of falling in love with a nice refreshing summer breeze; not necessary, because he's content in the heat, but definitely not unwanted.   

The thought of summer always makes him miss home and look forward to the next time he's able to visit. If he's completely honest, Haechan always misses home a little bit, it's always occupying the back of his mind. The city; as fun as it is living here, has always felt too different. Too chaotic. Now that you're walking next to him though, he's not missing anything and he thinks it's the first time since he moved here, that he feels absolutely and utterly content. At peace even. Even in the chilly autumn air as you two walk through the park near your campus, surrounded by brown leaf covered trees.   

"What's your favourite time of the year?" He can't help but ask the question when it pops into his head.   

"Hmm I think this one." You lift a finger, gesturing to your surroundings and you pause for a moment skeptically. "I think it’s mostly because I prefer autumn fashion." He chuckles at your reasoning. "Hey, don't laugh," You protest. "I'd like summer more if I could lounge by a pool in a bikini whenever I wanted." You inhale deeply, your eyes briefly closing and he can tell you're enjoying the autumn air. "Autumn is just easier, plus, I love the smell of rain." You turn to look at him before looking ahead of you again. "What's yours? You give off major summer vibes."  

He exhales a laugh through his nose. "Really? What gave it away?" He looks at your side profile as he waits for a response. He thinks you look so pretty in this gloomy setting and wonders if you’d look even prettier during his favourite season.   

"Dunno." You seem to be in deep thought, your lips pursing and your eyes narrowing as you inspect his face carefully. "Maybe your tan?" And he mimics your expression, scrunching his nose too and you gently elbow him. "Did I get it right?" You ask hopefully.  

"You sure did." He confirms, nodding proudly and a cheeky smile makes its way to your lips.   

"Why summer then?" You ask with a curious lilt in your tone.   

"I guess I associate summer with my childhood." He explains with a fond smile. "It reminds me of being-"  

"Carefree?" You finish his sentence and he smiles, nodding slowly in agreement. "That makes sense." You validate his thought process in the sweetest voice and he can't help but feel a certain way that leads him to slip his hand into yours. He senses your hesitation and worries he's overstepped a boundary but instantly relaxes when he feels your fingers take their place between his. You're not looking at him, but he can sense you trying to conceal your flustered state by nonchalantly keeping your eyes on the pavement.

He suddenly remembers you've got a class to attend at 3pm and slips his phone out of his back pocket to check the time. "It's half two, we should probably start heading back." He reminds you, not wanting to be the reason you mess up your schedule for the day.   

"Oh shit." Your eyes slightly widen at the realisation. "That was quick." You admit absentmindedly and he laughs softly.   

"Hmmmm what can I say, time flies when you're with me." He says with a suggestive pointed grin.   

"Didn't realise you were this deluded." You scoff, eyes rolling playfully. 

"Hey now." He warns with a nudge against your shoulder and can't hide the amused grin on his face when you giggle. "You had fun, admit it."  

"Mmmmaybe." You say with a cheeky smile, and he feels his pulse increasing. His chest constricts inevitably at how cute and soft you look. Your chin brushing your shoulder as you turn your head to look at him, batting your lashes seductively. He wonders if you know the effect you have on him.   

“You act all brave now, but -” He stops walking, making you halt, and you turn to look at him. “I bet I could easily make you skip class, if I really wanted to.” He says suggestively, a cocky eyebrow raising when he takes in your surprised expression. He pulls you closer, pulling lightly at your hand that's still in his and you stumble, putting a hand on his chest to regain your balance. You look up at him, and he thinks 'there it is', there's that not-so-innocent look from Saturday night. You don't shy away or get flustered this time, you stand your ground, and he suddenly wants to ruin you. But he knows this is not the time and place and he curses internally for choosing to go on a stupid coffee date. He's definitely taking you out somewhere more intimate and romantic next time, like Jeno suggested.   

"And how exactly would you do that?" You ask, testing his resolve, which, apparently, runs very thin when it comes to you.   

He leans down so his lips are by your ear, the hand that's not holding yours, taking purchase on your waist. "I'd show you but you'd probably get all shy on me." He murmurs and relishes in the way your hand tightens its hold on the fabric of his jumper. He feels your breathing quicken and can't help but laugh at your reaction.   

He moves to pull away and the second his eyes land on yours, your hand grabs the back of his neck and your lips crash on his. His breath hitches and his eyes widen at the impact, before he relaxes against you and kisses you back. He relishes in the feel of your soft lips sliding against his, and the warmth your body radiates when he pulls you closer with his arm around your waist and when he feels you sigh, body pliantly slotting into his, he wonders if someone if playing a prank on him, because there’s no way you’re this perfect for him. You wrap both your arms around his neck securely and he moves a hand to your hip, gently squeezing, his fingers dangerously close to your ass. You whimper when his tongue makes contact with your bottom lip and he feels you tilt your head to the side silently asking him to deepen the kiss, but he decides that the next time he has a full on make out session with you is going to be somewhere private. He bites your bottom lip lightly and gives you a quick peck before breaking the kiss completely and you whine at the sudden loss of contact, making him laugh. The hand on your hip sneakily slides itself into your back pocket, giving your bum a playful squeeze, before letting it rest there lazily, simply because he can't help himself. "You're trouble, Y/N." He mumbles against your lips.  

Your eyes open at that, finding his and your hand caresses the back of his neck while you suck your bottom lip into your mouth and his jeans start to feel constricting at the thought of you doing that so you can taste him again, now that he's no longer kissing you. "I'm trouble?" You ask in disbelief.

"You kissed me." He states in an accusatory tone as if he wouldn't have done it himself anyway.  

"I know." You whisper, your eyes dropping to his lips again. "I wanted to." You mumble and your tone makes his brain overflow with thoughts that revolve around you and his bed, because it doesn't matter that it's Monday afternoon and you're walking around the park. In Haechan’s head, nothing matters in this moment other than the fact that he desperately wants you in ways he hasn’t wanted anyone before and that scares him. Not because he doesn’t want to. But simply because he does. Haechan wants to want you.

_ 

"And with five minutes to spare." Haechan says with a proud smile when you reach the entrance of the building your class is in, still hand in hand and you can't help but smile back.   

“You know you're definitely gonna be late, right?” You say in a scolding tone and he scoffs rolling his eyes.  

“And whose fault is that?” He says playfully, pulling you closer.   

“You should've said you were meeting Jaemin at three, how am I supposed to- mmmf.” He interrupts you with a kiss against your lips, cupping your face in his hands. He pulls away quicker than you'd prefer but you still can't help the surprised laugh that escapes you.   

"I know I’ll see you on Thursday, but can I take you out Friday night?" He asks, eyes wide and hopeful and you smile.   

"You can." You say with a dreamy tone, taking in his pretty brown eyes and the way his smile widens when you accept to go on a second date with him.   

"Good." He kisses you chastely again and rubs his nose against yours before dropping a wet smooch on your cheek, laughing at your reaction.  

"Yah!" You complain cringing at the wet sensation against your skin. "Ewww, you slobbered on meeee." You whine, wiping the wetness off your face with the back of your hand, your nose scrunching in fake disgust but your heart flutters at the sound of his laugh. "Fucking weirdo." You huff, torn between laughter and exasperation.  

"Be a good girl and get to class." He turns you around, putting his hands on your shoulders and guiding you towards the entrance of the building, arms hugging you from behind and the butterflies in your stomach go ballistic. "Also, sit with me on Thursday." He whispers in your ear and you shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on your neck. You turn your head sideways to look at his face and you can't stop your lips from curling into a grin.   

"Be a good boy and don't tell me what to do." You whisper against his jaw, where you press a quick kiss that surprises him, his arms loosening around your shoulders in shock and you take the opportunity to turn around and loosely wrap your arms around his waist. You raise on your tippy toes so you can bring your lips to his ear. “I’ll see you soon, Lee Haechan.” You say with a low tone and to anyone else it might seem like you're just hugging, but you can feel his chest moving shallowly against your own when you give him another gentle kiss, on the cheek this time.  

"What the f-" You walk away with a sweet smile, before he can react or finish his sentence and you couldn't be more satisfied with yourself. You know he's still standing there, looking at you while you walk away from him and you smile to yourself.   

When you take your usual seat next to Chenle, in the back of the big lecture hall, he looks at you with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest. "So? How was it?" He asks and a giggle escapes him when you sigh with a dreamy smile on your face. "That good?"   

“You have no idea.” You feel you phone buzz in your pocket and you already have an idea what to expect.   

15:01 Hae☀️: that was fucked up...  

15:01 Hae☀️️: you're in for a treat next time i see you

_

Thursday rolls around slower than normal this week and you know why it feels that way. You can’t wait to see him.   

It’s the first time you’re running late to class though, and you’re cursing yourself for deciding to take a nap earlier. The bus that would have gotten you there on time is long gone, so your only option was to walk and be ten minutes late. You know it’s not the end of the world, students run late all the time, and it’s not like you’re anal about punctuality. It’s just that you hate being the centre of attention.   

And when you walk in the lecture hall, everything pans out exactly how you had predicted; some people turn their heads to look when you enter the hall as quietly as possible and some couldn’t care less. When you skip past your usual row of seats though, taking a seat two rows ahead instead, next to the handsome boy who’s been lately occupying your thoughts nonstop, more people’s eyes drift to your direction and you’re thankful to your professor, who continues speaking, without batting an eyelid at your tardiness.   

“You okay? I texted you.” Haechan leans into whisper in your ear, voice as quiet as possible. An arm extends behind you, resting on the back of your seat casually and you feel the warmth radiating on your shoulder blades, through the material of your top.   

You look at him for a moment before starting to take out your notes and iPad. “I know, I took a nap and overslept.” You whisper back maintaining the decibels of your voice as low as possible and you can tell he’s holding back a laugh.   

You look past him and you see Jaemin and Jeno both looking at you and waving. You mouth ‘hi’ to both of them offering a smile and your eyes land on Haechan again who’s smiling at you like he’s up to something. He relaxes in his seat, comfortably sinking into it while spreading his legs, his knee now touching yours and you know what he’s trying to do.  

You also lean back and relax in your seat, pretending to finally pay attention to whatever example is being demonstrated on the board. Your knee playfully nudges his.

“Stop manspreading.” Your eyes still on the board but your attention on him.   

“I’d say sorry, but it was intentional.” He states and you hold in your exasperation as well as your laugh. Your amused expression falters when he reaches to take your hand in his and rests them on his thigh. He’s too casual for your liking and too soft for your poor heart.   

When he said that you’re in for a treat he really did mean it.  

He walks you home that day.   

-

“What the actual fuck?” Your voice is high-pitched; eyes so wide, they resemble a cartoon’s.   

“What?” He laughs at your comical expression and places the mic down on the table in the centre of the noraebang room.  

“You made me go first so you could embarrass me!” You loudly accuse with your finger pointing at him.   

“You weren’t bad!” He can’t help the laughter that won’t stop. You’re frowning still and you look so adorable and believably annoyed. He knows it’s all pretend though.   

“You were so good though.” Your frown slowly turns into a pout. “And it was all in Japanese.” Your wide eyes looking up at him from when you’re still sat cross legged on the leather sofa seat. He feels weak. You make him feel weak.   

“I took singing lessons when I was younger.” He explains with a smile. “And that’s my favourite song so I’ve had practice.” He approaches slowly and takes a seat next to you, huffing and spreading his legs slightly to get comfortable while his head rests on the back of the sofa. He’s the one looking up at you now. You look so pretty in the purple and blue hues that light up the room. He definitely made the right choice bringing you here after dinner. He wanted to keep your second date PG but the way you’re looking at him right now makes him contemplate.   

“Ah right. He’s an artist.” A teasing smile takes over your face as you hold his gaze. He groans and you giggle when his hands come up to cover his face in embarrassment. He feels you shift next to him and when he looks at you through the gaps of his fingers you’ve turned your body towards him, still crossing your legs. “You have a pretty voice, Lee Haechan.”   

He knows he’s blushing, but he snorts, trying to feign nonchalance. “Thanks.” his hands drop and rest on his thighs.   

“Did you bring me here to show off then?” Your tone still ever so teasing.  

“No, but I was hoping to impress you maybe.” He admits without realising. Your effect on him frustrates him.   

“By serenading me in a language I can’t understand?” Your smile is so sweet, tooth ache inducing. So sweet it’s contagious. You move a little closer and he can smell your sweet perfume. His eyes drop to your exposed neck and then to the collarbones he’s dying to press soft kisses on. “Consider me impressed.” You say and his eyes come back up to your face. You seem to be fighting your smile now and he’s obsessed with the fact that you don’t want to give away how affected you also are by him.   

“What’s your favourite song?” He asks in a low voice, sitting up a bit and extending an arm along the back of the sofa. Your eyes instantly drop there, and your hand comes up to trace a vein absentmindedly. He manages to contain the shiver that creeps up on him, but he can’t control the goosebumps raising on his skin.   

“Japanese Denim by Daniel Caesar.” You respond, copying his low tone. Your eyes not leaving your fingers gingerly trailing up and down his skin. “You know it?” you look at him in question.   

Haechan is thankful he does. “Myyy blueee jeaaansss.” He sings the start of the chorus playfully and you giggle, pushing his shoulder lightly.   

“Okay r&b king.” You joke with a laugh. He pokes your side and you flinch with a half whine half giggle. He can’t help but smile at the sound.   

“I just think his lyrics are like poetry, you know?” You shrug, explaining why you see the appeal. Your hand is now resting in his arm, no longer tracing and he enjoys the weight of it. The warmth. He wants to reach out and touch you too, but he doesn’t move. The moment feels too precious to ruin.   

“They really are.” He agrees with a small nod. He likes to think that maybe he’ll be able to write lyrics like those one day, but he doesn’t say it. He doesn’t want to talk about himself now. He’s too busy admiring you. “You’re so pretty.” He says softly and he doesn’t even register the words leaving his mouth until he gets the cutest reaction from you. You look away, smiling big and your hands come up to press against your cheeks, attempting to cover what he assumes is a blush. A soft chuckle escapes him and he reaches up with both hands to remove yours from your face. “Blush away, no need to hide.” He teases you. He finds that he’s good at it. He wonders if it’s because you generally get flustered so easily or if it’s just the effect he has on you. He hopes it’s the latter.   

When your hands aren’t in the way, he taps a finger under your chin gently encouraging you to turn your head so he can look at you again. He then instinctively moves closer, craving to feel your warmth better and when your eyes find his again, his chest constricts. He sometimes doesn’t understand how it’s possible that he’s come to feel so attached to you in such a short amount of time, how he so easily gravitates towards you. But then you look at him and he understands. You speak and he understands. You laugh and he understands. You touch him and he understands. It almost feels foreign but never unwelcome. Never forced. And that scares him.   

Haechan trails his fingers from your chin down to your collarbone, tracing softly and he slowly moves the fallen strands of hair behind your shoulder. He feels your gasp when he leans forward to leave a kiss on the curve of it. Then a little lower. And a little lower until his nose nuzzles against the dip of your collarbone. Another kiss. And another. This time his tongue makes contact first, tasting the skin, before his lips pucker on the sensitive surface again. Your breathing has turned shallow and he smiles at the sight of your chest moving up and down. Your fingers thread into his hair, slightly pulling and he sighs against your wet skin. You catch him off guard when your other hand pushes him by the shoulder and he’s about to apologise for crossing a line but then you quickly straddle him and his mind goes blank. This is definitely not PG.   

“Someone could see us, you know.” You whisper against his lips and he almost moans. The hand in his hair pulls again and his head drops against the back of the seat pliantly, eyes closing at the feeling of your lips on his jawline. You scatter small kisses until you reach his ear and lightly bite on his lobe, his breathing quickens and the moan he’s been holding in eventually escapes at your next words. “Bet that turns you on though.” His hands instantly come up to hold onto something, anything. One grabs onto your waist, the other lands on your thigh, just below the hem of your skirt. “Talk to me.” You whisper sweetly in his ear before starting to trail kisses down the column of neck. The further down you travel, the wetter they get and he feels himself getting hard, his hips slightly raising to get some friction, but you don’t budge. “Behave.” You laugh against his neck in a hot puff of air and his voice comes out in a soft whine.   

“Baby,” he breathes out weakly and you coo softly against his neck while gingerly sucking on the delicate flesh. He feels you place a hand on his chest, above where his heart is beating uncontrollably and he knows you can feel it too, your thumb stroking soothingly to comfort him. “Wanna kiss you.” He pleads pathetically and he feels like he might come in his pants when you suddenly grind your hips down. His breath catches in his throat and he trails a hand up your back, between your shoulder blades, to wrap around the base of your neck, pressing you down as he thrusts up into you. He smiles stupidly when you bring up your face, unburying from his neck, to look at him with wide eyes. He thinks you might scold him but instead you just wrap a hand around his neck, pressing your fingers against his pulse points in a possessive manner and he groans. His eyes shut at the dizzying sensation and when he feels your lips press on his, he relishes. His head tilts automatically to deepen the kiss and he sighs into your mouth when your tongue finds its way in. It’s intoxicating and he swears he feels high. Your hand around his neck definitely playing a part but it’s mostly your taste and the way you kiss him exactly how he likes to be kissed. Wet and filthy but still slow, sucking on his tongue to tease him. He feels his heartbeat going wild without permission when you grind down again, just the right way, the perfect amount of pressure to drive him insane.  

His hands trail down to messily bunch up the fabric of your corduroy skirt so he can squeeze the flesh of your ass in his palms, fingers digging into the skin. He’s not gentle with you this time but your moans against his lips encourage him not to hold back.

You’re now grinding down with determined force and he moans into your mouth when his fully hard dick slots between your pussy lips, the only thing separating you, his layers and your underwear. He matches your pace, hips coming up when yours drop down and he realises that you’re no longer teasing him. “Think you can cum like this?” You ask against his lips, the scratch in your voice driving him insane, breathing ragged, hips quickening their eager ministrations. He nods, staring into your eyes. “You want to?” You ask again, keeping your eyes on his as your arms wrap around his shoulders to gain more support and he responds with another nod and a shaky breath. His head dips forward, eyes dropping down to where you’re connected and his hand pushes your skirt up even further, to get a better look. He groans at the sight. Your panties almost trapped between your folds, your pussy leaving a trail of wetness on the front of his jeans whenever you drag your body back and he feels himself twitch in his pants. It’s sinful. It’s perfect. You're perfect.  

“Fuck, hang on.” He whispers suddenly, arm wrapping around your middle to halt your movements and he quickly unbuttons his jeans with one hand. His hips raise a little bit as he clumsily pushes the fabric down, leaving his boxers still on. “Okay.” He exhales and his hands find your hips again, guiding you to resume your work. The friction so much better now that he can properly feel your wetness seeping through the cotton and he loves that he can see the way his fat cock drags between your lace clad pussy lips.

Your whining doesn’t go unnoticed, and he looks up at your face only to find you also looking down dazedly. He relishes in the idea that you can get as dirty as he can and he takes in the sight of you now; lips parted, gasping audibly, your nipples hard and visible through your thin blouse and he’s suspecting that you’ve foregone wearing a bra. 

His hands drag upwards, leaving your hips, trusting you to keep grinding down with no guidance and when he squeezes the flesh of your breasts through the fabric, his suspicions are confirmed. You moan when his thumbs rub on your already sensitive nipples, leaning into his touch and he repeats the action, enjoying the desperate little sounds you let out.

“I’m close.” He announces in a gasp, his balls feel heavy and he knows he’s leaking precum, adding to the wet patch you’ve created on the front of his boxers.   

“Yeah?” Your eyes search his, hands cupping his face and kissing him again, soft this time. “You gonna cum for me, pretty boy?” He feels his eyes roll back at your words and all he can do is nod again. He anchors himself by squeezing your ass in his hands again and he loves the whimpers you let out when his hands get a little rougher, making the flesh ripple. He decides to take matters into his own hands when he feels your thighs shaking around his hips, suspecting the soreness in your muscles and his hold on you gives you no option but to quicken the pace

“Fuck, you feel so fuckin good, baby, please don’t stop.” He exasperatedly begs, his breath shaky and he feels like he’s losing it. Pathetic.   

“Yes, god, m’cumming.” His voice comes out ruined, words muffled against your lips, vision blurring and his jaw drops when he reaches his peak, soaking his boxers like a teenage boy. Your hands slide into his hair when he starts shaking and he basks in the comforting touch. His head drops back on the seat again and he feels dizzy, your hips are still moving, dragging out his high and when it gets too much, he gently taps his fingers on your ass cheek, smiling dumbly. “Mmh, just give me a second.” He sighs as you take a seat, directly on his cock, softly cooing at him and kissing his cheek as you push his fringe back, revealing his damp forehead and he purrs at the gentleness.

“Good?” You ask sweetly and he almost scoffs, because there’s no way you don’t know you’ve just ruined him when he’s pathetically drenched his underwear like a horny teenage boy.

“Intense.” He hums and he feels himself shiver when you let out a breathy laugh against his skin, nuzzling into his temple. He slowly turns his head and catches your lips in a slow kiss. “Wanna make you feel good too.” He murmurs in the kiss and when he notices the conflicted expression on your face, he doubles down. “I’ll be quick.”

“Confident?” You tease with a smile that he can’t help but return. Your teeth sink on your bottom lip when he cups your pussy and he moans at the feeling of soaked lace.   

“Not like I haven’t done it before.” He teases back and he laughs when you swat at his chest. “Please?” He tries again, tone needy this time and he uses his puppy eyes, smiling when he breaks through your resolve. The second you nod, he wraps an arm around you securely and his other hand grabs at the fleshy bit where your ass meets your thigh. “Lie down for me.” He whispers and helps maneuver you onto your back swiftly.

He can’t help but smirk when your legs instinctively part for him to slot in between, and he does exactly that, coming to position himself above you, supporting his weight on one arm by the side of your head. His lips find yours again, in a hungry kiss and this time it’s his tongue that dominates yours, sliding into your mouth, tasting you just like you did to him earlier. He loves the sigh you let out through your nose when his hand slips into your underwear slowly, sliding his middle finger between your folds but what he loves the most is how wet you are.   

“Can I use my mouth?” He questions mid kiss and you must like the sound of that, because he feels you grind against his palm.   

“You can do anything you want, just no sex.” You say shyly. “Not here.”

“Told you, baby,” He gives your lips another peck before kissing down your neck, giving your tit a tentative squeeze as he moves downwards. “Wanna do that in my bed first.” Your moan at the promise brings a smile to his face as his hands slip into the top of your panties and drag them down your legs hastily, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. He stuffs the flimsy material into his back pocket, earning a questioning look from you and he grins. “Don’t worry, you’ll get them back.” He starts kissing from the inside of your knee to your inner thigh, wet and full of tongue.   

“Stop teasing.” You whine, raising your hips impatiently when he reaches closer to where you want him. And he chuckles against your folds, watching as your legs spread even more for him.   

His head rests on your inner thigh, comfortably and he looks up at your face, gauging your reaction. “What do you say?”   

“Please.” You whisper and he feels his dick harden again at your submissive tone.   

“Good girl.” He mutters and his hands slide up your inner thighs, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart, revealing your cute swollen nub, all pretty and in need of attention. He can see you’re clenching around nothing, clear pearls of slick dripping from the tiny hole that he can’t wait to lap up. 

You’re more than wet enough but Haechan doesn’t think twice before letting a fat glob of spit slowly drip from his mouth and he feels his dick twitch at the sight. You moan when you feel the extra wetness land on your cunt and he does it again, watching his spit drip down to your asshole, making a mess of you. Nothing but sensual. “Yeah? You like it messy?” He breathes out in admiration and he doesn’t even need an answer, he knows you do.

His hand comes up again, fingers spreading the mixed wetness through your folds. His middle and ring fingers create a v shape around your clit, isolating the nub between them and the tip of his tongue comes out to make contact, flicking gently up and down. You both moan in unison, your hands burying in his hair to keep him where you need him and he loves how ruined you already sound, how your legs part completely, how addictive you taste on his tongue. And he loves that he can’t get enough of you.

“Mmh, fuck.” You moan when his arm wraps around your thigh, bringing his hand to separate your folds from the top, palm pressing against your pubic bone, fingers delicately pulling the hood of your clit up, revealing more of the little nub. His flat tongue licks from your hole to your clit and he repeats the action when he feels your fingers pull at his hair harder. The pink muscle then settles back to delivering quick flicks on your nub, the direct contact making you squeal and he smiles at the adorable sound. “Yes, like that.” You encourage him, the praise making his chest swell with pride. His other hand joins and his middle finger teases your leaking entrance, circling before slowly sliding in until it’s fully buried inside, your soaked walls making the glide so easy, that he’s certain one digit won’t be enough.

When his jaw gets tired, he switches to sucking harshly on your clit, making you groan and he slowly starts to move his finger in and out, curling up slightly, following the curve of your pussy. He knows you want more, your hole dripping even more slick around his finger, so he slows down as he adds a second one. You sigh when you feel the extra stretch and he knows he’s got you where he wants you when you start clenching.   

“Fuck, baby, you’re creaming.” He points out in disbelief when he sees the white substance coating his digits every time they pull out of you and you whine in embarrassment. “I swear to god, I’m gonna fuck you stupid one day.” He promises against your cunt and goes back to sucking, more determined this time. His fingers start pumping quicker into you, the squelching sounds nothing but melodic in his ears and your tight walls nothing but heaven around his fingers. Your whines get louder when his speed increases and he knows he’s hitting your sweet spot every time he thrusts in, the pads of his fingers dragging against your walls. “Right there, hm?” His pace quickens even more and he looks up when he feels your eyes on him. You’re on your elbows now, jaw agape, eyes on his lips, watching him ruin you and his tongue comes out to flick quickly from side to side, his head moving with it, making a spectacle without breaking eye contact.   

“I’m gonna cum.” You warn in a whisper, burying a hand in his hair again and your elbows give out, allowing your body to drop back down. He hums against your cunt, letting you know he’s got you and he feels your legs trembling around his head. “Fuck, yes yes yes.” Your voice sounds broken, your walls are kneading his fingers and he has to put extra effort into sliding in and out due to the restricting tightness.

He doesn’t stop though, even when he knows you’re coming down from your high, he keeps pushing your boundaries. He wants more. “Haechan!” You squeal when he suckles on your clit again and he laughs darkly at the cute sound. Your hand tries to push him away, legs attempting to close around his head but he’s not quite done yet, his hold around your thigh tight enough to keep you open for him.   

He pulls his fingers out slowly and you whine. “Sorry, pretty.” He whispers mockingly against your clit before dipping down to lick at your pulsing entrance, smiling at the mewl you let out. He licks from bottom to top again, gently flicking at your clit when he comes up and he knows it’s too much when your body convulses and you sound like you’re crying. You’re not pushing him away though, which gives him hope. He opts to circling instead of flicking, tongue relaxed now; languid and he feels your legs spread again. “Yeah? Want more gentle?” He coos as his eyes look up and he can see your perky tits moving up and down with your breathing. He trails a hand up your body, squeezing greedily around the flesh and he moans at the feeling of your stiff nipple against his palm.   

“I’m too sensitive.” You sigh and bring a hand above his, squeezing around your own tit with him as you raise on your elbows again. 

“You can give me one more, though, right?” His eyes staring into yours, hopeful.   

“I think so.” You nod tiredly, eyebrows furrowing slightly at the overstimulation, breathing coming out harsh. “I’m still turned on.” You admit shyly, biting down on your bottom lip as you push his fringe away from his damp forehead.   

“Such a good girl.” He says dreamily and his tongue gently circles your clit again, wet hand pressing against the back of your thigh to keep you spread out for him.   

Only after you come again on his tongue, does he stop, moving to kiss on your inner thigh, sucking on the supple skin there, leaving a wet patch behind along with a subtle mark. He leans over you again, taking in the sight under him. Your breathing slowing down as you look up at him, your hair fanned around you and your eyes blinking slowly. You look beautifully and utterly fucked out and so angelic. His heart swells when you reach up, pulling him close to you and he gives in right away, dropping down, resting his weight on you carefully. He kisses you slowly, pushing his tongue past your parted lips, moaning with you, knowing you can taste yourself.   

“You’re hard again.” You whisper against his lips and he laughs, because of course he is.   

“You are not making me cum in my pants again.” He scolds and kisses softly on your cheek as you snort a laugh, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him close.   

“Okay, I won’t.” You say with a smile, leaning in to kiss him again. He lets you.   

—

“Do you guys have any, like, weird fetishes?” Jaemin asks randomly, interrupting your conversation with Ningning and almost causing you to choke on a fry.   

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Haechan pipes up next to you, genuine concern laced in his tone, his hand stroking your back whilst you cough.   

“Yeah, changing the subject from ‘I’m broke’, to that, is slightly worrying to say the least.” Ningning agrees but that doesn’t stop her from laughing. “Look, even Jeno is speechless.” She points at Jeno’s shocked expression and he snaps out of it, taking a sip from his coffee.   

“I was just curious.” Jaemin shrugs as he explains. “I’ve been texting this girl and the other night it turned into sexting and she asked me if I’d be down to piss on her?”   

“Oh wow,” Ningning is suddenly interested. “What did you say?” She asks and he eyes widen as she awaits his response. All eyes around the table are on Jaemin now and he’s clearly thrown off, struggling to find the right words.   

“Wellllll-“   

“Oh my god!” Renjun exclaims and covers his mouth with both hands. “Please tell me you didn’t actually do it.”  

“No, of course not.” Jaemin defends himself quickly. “I haven’t even slept with her.” He steals a fry from your plate. “Yet.” He concludes with a smug smile.   

“Okay, but, let’s say you do sleep with her and she asks you to piss on her.” Haechan interferes. “Would you?” He asks with an amused expression and Jaemin seems to be in deep thought.   

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it but I’m pretty sure I’d get stage fright.” Says casually and stuffs a few more fries in his mouth. “Also, I don’t think I can pee when I’m hard.”   

”Yeah, I was thinking that.” Jeno says with narrowed eyes. “It’s also a bit weird if you don’t know them that well or if it’s just a one-time thing, no?” He looks around, asking everyone.  

“Yeah, true.” Renjun agrees. “Not that I’ve done it before, but, surely you do those kinds of things with someone you’re in a relationship with or at least someone you’ve been seeing and agreed to experiment with.” He looks at Jaemin. “But then again, you’re a different kind of breed.” Everyone laughs at that.   

“That I am my friend.” Jaemin laughs darkly and leans over to kiss Renjun on the cheek. The latter pushes him away by shoving a hand against his face with a disgusted expression and you snort at the scene.   

“The question is, where did you even meet this girl?” You ask with a wiggle of your eyebrows, not because you care, but because you find it amusing when Jaemin gets flustered.   

His eyes meet yours now and he seems taken aback before he puts on his cheeky grin again. “Oh, I have a better question, miss thing.” His voice laced with nothing but mischief and you’re now scared. “Would you let Haechan piss on you if he asked?” There it is.   

“And I ask again.” Haechan saves you momentarily. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice is calm but there’s definitely an edge to it, a warning even. He doesn’t move from his position next to you. An arm lazily resting on the back of your chair, the warmth certainly comforting on your shoulders. You instinctively lean into him, resting a hand on his thigh and his knuckles rub against your arm soothingly. Your eyes meet Ningning’s who’s watching the whole interaction smiling and you try to contain your own smile.   

“What? It’s a good question, no?” Jaemin says with a shrug and you roll your eyes.   

“Jaemin, I don’t know about you, but I don’t really talk about golden showers at least until after the fifth date.” You say sarcastically and Jeno snorts trying to hold in a laugh. “And that’s besides the point. You asked if we have any fetishes so I think we should all share one.”   

Jaemin smirks and points a finger at you playfully. “I knew you could match my freak.” He says, giggling like a schoolgirl and Haechan’s arm around your shoulders tightens, the act unnoticeable to everyone else but not to you. Your fingers resting on his thigh, tense slightly trying to get his attention as you turn to look at his face and you can’t help but notice the frown on his face while he’s looking at Jaemin. He’s jealous and it’s obvious and you can’t help the warm fuzzy feeling spreading in your belly. When he looks down at you, his expression softens and you feel his arm relax around you. You give him a smile, which he instantly returns. You’re definitely bringing this up later.

“Take your freak elsewhere please.” Renjun says with sass, earning a few laughs around the table.   

“Ugh fine, I’ll start.” Ningning says and all eyes snap towards her. “I’m not opposed to some toe sucking. There you go. Thank you. Let’s move on.” Your laugh is loud and you wish Chenle didn’t have basketball training so he could witness this shit show.   

”Alright, I like sucking on toes.” Jeno confesses and you bury your face in your hand leaning into Haechan’s shoulder to conceal your laugh. You feel him chuckle in your hair as he wraps his arm around you properly and you love the heat radiating off him so much that you wish you could stay there for the rest of the day.   

“Next!” Ningning says exasperatedly, sending Jeno daggers across the table. It wasn’t even his turn but you respect his efforts. Not a lot of men have managed to get Ningning this flustered before and it actually makes you wonder if any toe sucking took place that night they supposedly only cuddled. You make a mental note that this might also be worth bringing up earlier.  

It’s Renjun’s turn and he seems to be in deep thought. “I honestly can’t think of anything, I think I’m pretty vanilla.”   

“Surely there’s something, it doesn’t have to be hardcore.” Haechan butts in. 

“I guess choking?” Renjun’s ears have turned red now and you almost feel bad, because out of everyone around this table, he’s the one that deserves to be embarrassed the least.   

“Ooooh erotic asphyxiation!” Jaemin says feigning a seductive tone. “Okay, so, I may or may not like butt stuff.”   

Everyone’s eyes widen at the confession.   

“As in your butt or the other person’s?” Jeno asks curiously. Jaemin only responds by wiggling his eyebrows and Jeno gasps dramatically. 

“As in you’ve had a finger up y-“   

“Moving on!” Jaemin exclaims loudly, interruptinh Ningning. "Your turn, lover boy." He gestures at Haechan to continue as Jeno’s mouth is still open in shock.   

“Hmm.’ Haechan ponders, his fingers tapping on your shoulder absentmindedly as he thinks. For some reason, even though it’s not your turn to answer, you feel exposed, as though all your friends are watching you both, trying to gauge your reaction at his response. You try to maintain as neutral an expression as possible and you hope he says something you might have already guessed by the times you’ve been intimidate with him. “Maybe the risk of getting caught.” He finally admits and you’re definitely not shocked.   

“That’s boring, everyone likes that.” Jaemin complains.  

“Speak for yourself, sicko.” Renjun defends. “Some of us like total privacy.”   

“Aww you really are vanilla.” Ningning pouts cutely and Renjun scoffs.    

“Y/N?” Renjun says to divert the attention from him and you fear your ears might be as red as his now. Everyone is watching you, including Haechan and you’re starting to regret suggesting this in the first place.   

“Just say it, no one is going to judge.” Jeno encourages and you want to bury your face in Haechan’s shoulder again.   

“Maybe Haechan should try and guess.” Renjun suggests and now you feel like you've underestimated him.  

“Oh yes!” Jaemin quickly agrees excitedly, clapping his hands. “Okay, how about he whispers it to you and if he gets it right, he then has to say it out loud.”   

“What if he gets it wrong?” You ask and Haechan scoffs next to you.   

“He seems pretty confident.” Ningning says, pointing at Haechan’s face and when you look up at him, he’s got a cocky smile plastered on his stupidly pretty face.   

“Alright, Haechanie, make us proud.” Jaemin says while holding a hand to his chest and Haechan rolls his eyes at his friend.   

“Okay,” He leans closer, cupping his hand around your ear to conceal his mouth from the group. “Spitting.” He whispers so that only you can hear and you feel lightheaded for a moment. When he retracts, he gently moves your hair behind your ear and when your eyes find his, he smirks. He’s got you all figured out and he knows it. Bastard. “So?” He asks patiently.   

“Correct.” You say in defeat and everyone cheers a little too loudly around the table.

“So, what is it?” Jaemin asks excitedly.

“Can I?” Haechan asks, eyes still on you, ignoring his friend and you appreciate that he prioritises your comfort. You nod with a smile, giving him permission to say it out loud.

“Spitting.” He says again, out loud this time for all your friends to hear.   

“That’s quite vague, no?” Jeno says. “Who’s spitting and where?”   

You turn in his direction, throwing daggers at him, because there’s no way he’s trying to be a brat. “Oh, would you perhaps like a demonstration? I’ll happily spit in your cute little boba tea right now.” Your sweet tone, insincere and Haechan bursts out laughing, head thrown back, pretty neck on display but you push that thought to the back of your mind.

“Relax woman!” Jeno says with his hands raised in surrender. “No saliva in my drink please.” He takes his drink from the table and covers the top with a hand protectively.   

“You can spit in mine.” Jaemin offers with hopeful eyes, holding up his drink in your direction and you groan at his crassness.   

“Dude, you’re sick.” Renjun says with a shake of his head, judging his friend.   

“No, I’m just versatile.” Jaemin defends with a pout. “No one’s spat in my drink before.”   

“That you know of.” Haechan says with a feigned smile, voice laced with mild irritation.

“Right, well, I hate to ruin the fun, but I have class in fifteen minutes.” Ningning gets up, grabbing her bag and drink. “Bye losers.” She says with a sweet smile and starts walking towards the exit of the cafeteria.   

“Wait!” Jeno’s voice is loud. “I’ll walk with you.” He gets up quickly, clumsily gathering his stuff before following after her like a puppy following his owner, without even looking back at the rest of you. You look at them walk away, already discussing something. You think they look cute together and you wonder what you and Haechan look like to other people.   

“Someone’s toes are definitely getting sucked later.” Jaemin says and you can’t help but laugh at his silly joke.   

Haechan turns to you with a sweet smile. “Are you done with classes for the day?” He asks quietly, leaning his body closer to you and you smile at how comfortable he already acts around you, not caring that his friends are still there.   

“Mm-hmm.” You confirm with a nod, sitting up to stretch your limbs and once the stiffness is somewhat relieved, you sink back into your chair, leaning into his warmth as he wraps his arm around your shoulders again, like it belongs there. “You working this evening?”   

“Nah, I only need to go in on Sunday this weekend.” He says happily as his other hand takes hold of yours, resting limply on his lap. “Wanna come over for dinner?” He asks carefully and your eyes fall on Jaemin and Renjun who are deep in conversation about what jobs Jaemin could look for to earn some extra cash. They’re paying no attention to you and Haechan.   

“Dinner?” You ask with a hopeful smile and turn your head to look up at him, his pretty boba eyes already on you and he nods.   

“Yeah, I could make us something, or we could get takeout.” His cheeks are now pink and you feel giddy at his flustered look. He looks so unbelievably cute and you get the urge to give him kiss, but you don’t. Not here.   

“Sure, I’d like that, but-” Then you look at the two boys sat across the table again, posing a silent question.   

“They’re all out tonight, don’t worry.” He reassures you quietly, reading your mind.   

It’s not that you don’t like being around Haechan’s friends, they’re all lovely and have been nothing but nice to you, but you would appreciate some one-on-one time with him. It’s been exactly a week since your second date and even though you’ve seen him around campus since then, it’s always been with his or your friends around. On the other hand, you’re now realising that neither of you have been over at each other’s places and you feel the nerves as well as the excitement brewing in your stomach.   

You’re aware that both you and Haechan are still navigating the nature of your relationship and even though you know that it’s too soon to tell where it’s going, you’re more than happy to see it through with him. 

You’re also aware that so far, you’ve both made very clear that when you’re left alone, it’s almost impossible to keep your hands off each other. And although, the last thing you want is to keep things between you at a superficial level, you can’t help but wonder what sex with him would feel like. And although, you want things to progress naturally, you have a feeling that if you go over for dinner, you might find out.  

“You sure you don’t wanna go out with them?” You ask, checking that he’s not cancelling any important plans for you.   

“I can’t think of anything worse than going to a frat house filled with a bunch of people I barely know, trust me.” He says with a laugh, his thumb stroking the back of your hand gently. “Plus, I feel like I haven’t properly seen you this week.”   

“Missed me?” You tease him, laughing at his reaction. His eyes roll and he tongues his cheek, trying to conceal his smile.   

“Yeah, and what if I did?” He challenges, his eyes widening, his lips forming a cute pout.   

“If you did,” You trail, leaning closer as you lower your voice, squeezing his hand in yours. “Then that’s great. Because the feeling might be mutual.” You reach up with your free hand to pinch one round cheek and before he has time to react, you lean in, dropping a quick kiss on the other one. “I’d love to come over.” You say with a smile and poke the tiny dimple that’s appeared where you’ve just kissed him.   

“Oh great, so you guys are fucking on our couch.” Jaemin ruins yet another moment and Haechan closes his eyes trying to compose himself. A thought pops into your head and you’re already internally laughing at your own joke.   

”Now, why would we do that, when your bed is available tonight?” You say with a toothy grin and you’re sure Renjun’s loud laugh makes some heads turn, Haechan mimics his reaction, head thrown, hands clapping. “Do not test me Na Jaemin, I will break you.” You point a finger at him with a serious look.   

“You two make a great match, it’s actually scary.” He says in what could be described as amazement or fear, gesturing between you and Haechan.  

_

You wake up confused, looking around and seeing you’re not in the familiar space of your apartment and when you inhale deeply you realise you’re safe. Haechan’s familiar scent helps you relax again and when you move to stretch your legs, you feel a comforting weight on your back, stroking slowly. You nuzzle your face into Haechan’s neck, humming in delight as he pulls the fluffy blanket, which you assume he threw over your figures whilst you were asleep, up to your chin.

“Hey, pretty.” He whispers in your ear, not wanting to startle you, his hand now in your hair, gently scratching your scalp and you purr in delight. “We fell asleep.” His tone still low, voice a little groggy, laced with sleep still.   

”Mmm, what time is it?” You mumble sleepily in his neck and he shuffles around, careful not to move you from where you’re lying comfortably on him, grabbing his phone from the coffee table near the couch you’re both currently cocooned in. Your blink your eyes slowly, thankful that the only thing producing light in the living room area, is the tv screen. Shin-chan still playing on the screen from earlier but the volume is lowered. You assume you must’ve fallen asleep mid cuddling, after dinner. You remember telling him about this crime documentary you watched with Ningning a few nights ago and how you couldn’t sleep after. You also remember him saying that you should’ve called him so he could take your mind off it, and you remember wondering if he really meant that or if he was just being nice.   

“It’s almost nine.” He says quietly after unlocking his phone. “We slept for like two hours.” He yawns cutely while checking any missed notifications and you can see from the corner of your eye, he quickly replies to a message from Jeno. “Seems like Jen convinced Ningning to come out.” He announces with a snort and your ears perk at that, your head slightly raising to look at him in question and he shows you the selfie he’s received from a visibly drunk Jeno, who’s got an arm wrapped around your friend’s shoulders, who’s sticking her tongue out, also visibly drunk.   

“Fuck's sake.” Your head drops on his shoulder again, groaning. “She’s gonna be hungover tomorrow.” You whine and Haechan lets out a laugh, holding you tightly against him, his arm wrapping around your middle. Your hand rests on his chest and you close your eyes, allowing the cosiness to engulf you.  

“It’s fine, I’m sure he’ll look after her.” He places his phone back on the coffee table and wraps his other arm around you, squeezing you like a teddy bear, with a sigh. “Bet my left nut, he’s staying at yours again tonight.” He jokes and you snort at his choice of words.   

“Why the left one specifically?”   

“I’m right-handed so I thought I’d keep the right one.”   

“I’m sure you’ll get to keep both anyway; he’s definitely going home with her.” You agree with his point and tap your hand lightly on his chest, while resting your chin on it to look up at his pretty face. His eyes are closed now and he looks so relaxed, you can’t help but wonder if he’s enjoying the cuddling session as much as you are, but you also don’t want to assume he wants you to stay over. “I can go home, if you wanna go to bed. It’s getting late.”   

His eyes open the moment he seems to have registered your words and he looks down at you. “Or you could stay?” He suggests with hopeful eyes, gauging your reaction. “I have a spare toothbrush, and you can wear something of mine.” He can definitely tell you’re contemplating. “No pressure of course, I get if you wanna be in your own bed.” His fingers comb through your hair soothingly and you close your eyes momentarily.  

"Hmm." You ponder with a smile, letting your hand trail up his chest, fingers absentmindedly stroking along his jaw, feeling the scratch of the light stubble adorning his chin and he tilts his head, leaning into the touch. “I'm sure I won't miss my bed that much.”  

_

After you’ve both brushed your teeth and he’s given you a comfortable big t-shirt of his to change into, you’re ready for bed and when you walk into his room, he’s already turned the main light off and left the bedside lamp on.

He’s lying comfortably under the white covers, back against the headboard while he’s lazily scrolling through his phone. You feel giddy at how soft and warm he looks. Just like a teddy bear you wouldn’t be able to sleep without.

You place your clothes on his desk chair and walk over to the side he’s not occupying, noticing your own phone is placed on the bedside table next to him, plugged in and screen down. You smile at the thoughtful gesture and slowly lift the duvet to get under, instinctively shuffling closer to his side of the bed when he stretches his arm out for you and you place your head on his chest, resembling the position you were in earlier on the couch. His bedsheets are cold and you tangle a leg with his, wiggling your toes against his skin to warm them up, making him flinch and you giggle quietly. “Sorry.”   

He places his phone down, next to yours and moves to get comfortable against the pillows while holding onto your shoulders, bringing you down with him. He maneuvers you so you’re both on your sides facing each other and his arm is still slotted under you, between your head and your shoulder, while yours lazily drapes over his waist. He cups your jaw, gently rubbing his thumb against your skin and when he kisses your forehead gingerly, your eyes close momentarily while your arm tightens around his middle, pulling yourself closer so your chest is touching his. It feels domestic and so comfortable, like you’ve shared a bed with him a million times before.

“You comfy?” He whispers and you nod, the tip of your nose rubbing against his in the process. You see the corners of his lips lifting into a smile that probably mirrors yours. “Are you sleepy?” He murmurs against your lips and you smirk, knowing he’s testing the waters now. His fingers are in your hair and his thigh is resting between your legs, so close to your aching centre that you’re worried he can feel you throbbing through your underwear.   

“Not really.” You breathe against his lips, your hand on his back slipping under the hem of his t-shirt and you feel him shiver when you trail your fingers up, your nails lightly scratching, feeling the goosebumps on his warm skin. “You?” Your breath hitches when his thumb traces your bottom lip, dragging it down and your eyes travel to his heart shaped lips. You instantly wish they were on yours, but you want to let him go at his own pace.   

“What do you think?” He asks rhetorically and you breathe out a laugh, biting down on your bottom lip when his thumb moves to stroke the apple of your cheek.   

“I think,” you pause, lightly dragging your nails down his back, earning a whimper from him. “I’m not really thinking actually.” You confess as your hand travels to his front, fiddling with the strings of his shorts, your fingers catching the elastic band of his shorts and letting it snap against his lower abdomen, earning a gasp from him, which hits your eager lips.   

“Dumb already?” He attempts to tease and the smile dies on his lips, jaw dropping when your hand dips into his slacks and past his underwear, to wrap firmly around him. His eyes close when your thumb rubs under the head and you relish in the fact that he’s almost fully hard. He feels velvet smooth against your palm, thick enough to make you think it will probably sting when he enters you for the first time, slightly curved upwards, length perfect for hitting that sweet spot in your walls. You feel yourself getting wet at the thought and your breathing stutters when his thigh makes contact with your pussy, your hips instantly pushing forward, chasing the stimulating feeling. “Mm fu-“   

His lips are finally on yours, interrupting you and you moan against his mouth in relief, kissing him back like you were made for it. You can’t help but think of that night in the noraebang room; how these very lips completely and utterly ruined you for anyone else. How they devoured you like no one else has before and probably like no one ever will.   

Without breaking the kiss, you push him gently and he rolls onto his back dragging you with him so you can straddle him. He buries his fingers into your hair, deepening the kiss, his tongue gliding against yours and you moan at the taste of him; toothpaste and something uniquely him. Your hands take hold of his, dragging them down your figure and you stop to rest them on your ass, smiling in the kiss when he instantly kneads and pulls at the plush skin. You allow him to lick into your mouth one more time, before breaking the kiss to sit up and take in his dazed expression. Eyes hooded, lips wet and swollen and so irresistible, you feel helpless. Before he can complain, you drop your hands to the hem of the shirt that he let you borrow and slowly start dragging it up your skin, until it’s off you and on the floor.   

“Fuck.” He exhales heavily, the second your tits are free and his hand comes up caressing from your hip up to your ribs until he reaches the underside of your boob and he gently cups, feeling the weight of it in his hand. “You’re fucking unreal.” He whispers and licks his lips before sitting up and wrapping his other arm securely around your waist.

His forehead rests against your chest for a moment, inhaling deeply, almost as if he needs a minute to compose himself while still squeezing your boob in his hand and you let him, threading your fingers through his hair to offer some comfort. His warm breath caresses your nipple and your shiver, the skin around the nub pebbling against his palm. You whine at the sensitivity, pulling at his hair to guide him closer to where you want him.

He gets the message and he kisses across your sternum, his tongue coming out to make contact with your skin before it circles around your areola slowly, teasing you. The pads of his fingers digging into the skin of your boob, squeezing as he sucks the nipple into his mouth and he moans when you whine. He starts flicking his tongue, driving you close to insanity and the wetness in your underwear feels almost unbearable now, but you have other priorities.   

“Hae?” You call out into his hair as he’s still sucking and licking and he hums, indicating that he’s listening, as he scatters more kisses across your chest, moving to wrap his lips around your other nipple. “I wanna suck you off.” You say quickly, before allowing the shyness to infiltrate your brain and he instantly releases the nub, with a wet pop, so he can look up at your face with wide eyes. His mouth is ajar and his lips swollen and wet with his spit. He looks fucked out like this, hair messy and you love it, because you’re the sole reason. You cup his face and he absentmindedly squeezes both your tits in his hands, pushing them together, his eyes not leaving yours.   

“Yeah, baby?” He leans up and kisses you softly. “Wanna make me feel good?” He mumbles seductively against your mouth, and you don’t even think before quickly nodding.   

“Mm please.” You say in a whiny voice, playing along with him, as you pull at the fabric of his top and his hands move to pull at the collar, swiftly removing it. Your hands drag down his naked chest, pushing him to lie against the headboard, continuing their journey down his body, until they reach his shorts. You don’t waste any time, pulling his boxers along with them and he spreads his legs when he’s completely naked, for you to kneel in between them. His hand wraps around his hard cock, resting on his tummy and he whimpers at the needed friction while his eyes are on yours.   

“Tongue out, keep your eyes on me.” He says softly and you clench around nothing, your panties a mess by now, you have to refrain from cringing at the feeling. You instantly obey, leaning closer and sticking your tongue out, millimetres away from where he wants it. He gently taps the head against the centre of your awaiting wet muscle and you moan, fighting to keep your eyes on his, the act feeling intensely intimate. “Suck, baby.” He says, his voice still gentle but more authoritative than before. You wrap your lips around the head and suck softly, tasting his precum and you can’t help but let your eyes close at the taste and weight of him in your mouth. You pull back slightly, swirling your tongue around him and flicking at the underside, causing him to grunt. “Fuck, pretty girl, you’re so good to me, aren’t you.” He says, with a shaky voice in his state of vulnerability, and you moan at the praise as you slap his hand away, replacing it with your own, wrapping your smaller fingers around his thick length and he lets you. You start to move your hand up and down, pumping him at a quick pace while sucking around the tip again, tongue dipping gently in his slit and when his hips buck up, wanting you to take him deeper, you place a hand on his hip as a warning and he grunts. "Fuck baby, please."   

You gather a good amount of saliva in your mouth and when you look up to make sure he's watching you, you let it drip down slowly, watching as it coats his cock and travels down to his balls. You smile when his eyes roll back and you lick from base to top teasingly, surprising him when you take him as deep as you can, with your hand wrapped tightly around the base.

You moan when he reaches the back of your throat, swallowing around him with purpose and you pull back up when you start to gag. Your hand follows your mouth as you slowly start to move your head up and down, trying to give him as much pleasure as you can and you know you're doing a good job when his hands curl in your hair, gathering the strands into a messy ponytail and his moans turn into whines. This time, when his hips start moving, you allow him to fuck up into you, having gotten used to the feeling of him in your throat.

You slacken your jaw, moving your hand from the base to his thigh, and he moans louder when you allow him to go deeper than before. You feel your eyes water and you know you're slobbering around him, making a complete mess as saliva drips from the corners of your mouth, gathering at the base of his cock and balls. Your hand comes up to cup them, rolling gently and he abruptly pulls your mouth off him with a loud groan.

You look at the thick string of spit mixed with precum that’s connecting your lips to his tip, as you gasp for air and then your teary eyes travel up to meet his wild ones. He looks conflicted and his grip on your hair feels tight. "What's wrong?" You ask, your voice comes out hoarse and you feel like coughing to clear your throat, but you just swallow carefully.  

He manages to laugh breathlessly at your confused expression, his breathing shallow and his lips bright pink from all the biting. "I was about to cum." He explains and grabs you by the arms to pull you up.   

"Ain't that the point?" You say as you straddle him again and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, some of the drool smearing on your chin and you internally cringe at the wetness, but his eyes on your mouth tell you he thinks otherwise.   

"Not if you want me to fuck you, no." Your heart jumps at his words and the look on your face must betray you, because he’s smirking. "Unless you don't." He teases, caressing your thighs as you place both hands on his naked chest, your pinky rubbing against his nipple and you giggle when he shudders.   

"No, I do." You confess as you lean down to kiss him but he quickly sits up, meeting you halfway as he wraps his arms around you, maneuvering you onto your back swiftly and you feel yourself bounce on the mattress when he plops you down. He kneels between your legs and without warning, he starts pulling your panties off you. You eagerly raise your hips to help him, bringing your bent legs together, so the fabric doesn't stretch.   

Once the lace is somewhere on the floor, you see his lips curling into a smile as he bites on the bottom one when you mindlessly spread your legs for him again, inviting him to settle between them. He moves closer, dragging his knees on the mattress as his hands take purchase on your hips.   

"Scoot up a bit for me?" He asks sweetly and he helps you move up the bed, so your head rests comfortably on the fluffy pillows, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach causing havoc with no permission, your heart thudding like crazy as your eyes find his and fuck holding back now. You just want him to ruin you.   

You pull at his silver chain, your other hand grabbing the back of his neck and he grunts the second your lips crash, all tongue and teeth with no coordination. You tilt your head to the side to get better access and the wet sound of kissing fills the room. Your clit is throbbing and you desperately need him to do something. Anything. "Please, I'm so wet." You whine against his lips and he moans at your neediness, grinding into your centre. His cock sliding between your folds, the head bumping into your neglected clit and your hips raise searching for more friction.

He leans back on his heels and hunches over you, one hand splayed on your tummy, the other wrapping around his dick as he taps the head against your clit and your legs spread completely, giving him full access as you squeeze around your own tits, needing to hold onto something. Your eyes roll back when he starts firmly rubbing the swollen nub, flicking from side to side and you feel like you're  about to combust, your back arching off the bed as you moan loudly.   

You open your eyes the second the friction comes to a halt, and the complaint dies in your mouth when you're met with the sinful sight of him coating two of his fingers in spit before they disappear between your legs and into your needy hole. "Shit, baby." He says in awe when they easily slide into you and your jaw drops at the fullness, your eyes threatening to shut from the pleasure, but you refuse to stop looking at him. His arm muscles are flexing when he starts fucking you open, instantly finding that sensitive spot that drives you insane, his other hand still, possessively pressing down on your lower abdomen to hold you in place, his hair matted on his damp forehead, his eyes focused on your dripping centre, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in concentration. He looks so hot, you could come just from looking at him and when his thumb comes into the equation, rubbing merciless circles around your clit, you feel yourself getting tighter.   

“You gonna cum?” He asks in a whisper, his eyes meeting yours momentarily and you nod quickly, eyebrows creasing at the intense pressure in your belly.   

"Uh-huh, don’t stop." You respond in a high pitched plea and his pace quickens, creating the filthiest squelching noises around his hand and your eyes close, half in ecstasy half in embarrassment. "Oh my god." Your fingers knead your tits harder when you're on the edge and a moan from him is what topples you over. "Fuck, I'm cumming." Your pussy feels like it's on fire as your walls spasm, your clit throbs like it's about to fall off and your legs can't stop shaking. His fingers are pistoning into you so hard and fast, that it feels like it slightly hurts but it feels so good at the same time. Too good. You sense that you're on the verge of peeing and your voice comes out in a broken squeal. "Shit, ah, stop stop stop!" Your hand grabs his wrist in a desperate state and he looks up at your face with widened eyes, like he's come out of a trance. He stops his ministrations but keeps his fingers buried inside you.   

"Fuck, baby, I'm sorry." The hand on your stomach, moving to your ribs, caressing gently. "Did I hurt you? You- shit, I thought you were gonna squirt for a second so I kept going, I'm really sorry." His pupils are shaking as he explains quickly, taking in your sweaty, disheveled form and you feel so exposed that you make grabby hands at him, wanting him close. He instantly moves, supporting his weight on one arm, careful not to crash you and you sigh when you feel his chest flush against yours, warm and damp.   

"It didn't hurt." You assure him, cupping his cheeks in your hands and he closes his eyes, sighing in relief. "I just felt like I was gonna pee." You confess bashfully and he chuckles, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply as you run your fingers through his hair. "I've never squirted before, so I freaked out a bit." You explain quietly. "Plus, I don't wanna ruin your bed sheets before we even get to the sex part."   

He snorts and raises his head to look at you again. "Pretty sure they're already ruined." He says giving you a kiss on the cheek and you move to playfully push him off you, but a gasp escapes you when you feel his fingers slightly move, reminding you they're still buried inside your sensitive walls. "Unclench a little, you're squeezing." He whispers and when he kisses you, you slowly relax your walls around his digits, allowing him to carefully pull out and you whine at the loss, making him smile in the kiss. His hand cups your sensitive core, making you mewl at the comforting warmth. "You sure you still wanna keep going? We don't have to if you're feeling sore."  

"I'm fine." You wrap your legs around his waist, holding him close. “Want you.” You whisper, hands sliding up his chest, coming up to bury in his hair again, as you bring his lips down to yours, urging him to kiss you stupid. And he does. 

It’s slow, steady, passionate and you feel like mush in his arms, numb to the core, your lips moving in sync with his, taking what he’s giving you. You inhale and exhale heavily through your nose, refusing to break the kiss and you moan when he obscenely shoves his tongue into your mouth, licking messily and the conversation from earlier enters your mind suddenly. “Mm- I want mmf-” He interrupts you with another messy kiss before pulling away, allowing you to speak.  

“You want what?” He asks quietly, lips still grazing yours as he catches his breath. Your eyes are on his glistening mouth, and he must sense your hesitation, because he presses again, hand caressing up and down your thigh in encouragement. “Tell me, baby, I’ll give you anything you want.”   

“Remember what we talked about earlier?” You try, too embarrassed to actually say the words.  

“Earlier?” His eyebrows furrow in thought, not catching on straight away.  

“At the café.” You whisper, your eyes drop to his mouth again, slightly hinting and when they find his again, you know he’s caught on.   

“You- fuck.” He falters when your hips raise, the tip of his cock catching at your entrance momentarily before sliding between your folds. “You want me to spit in your mouth?” He asks carefully, after having somewhat collected himself, both arms coming up, trapping your head between them as he rests his weight on them. You nod, holding eye contact, hands traveling down his abdomen, fingers tracing his sides before trailing up his spine, bracing once having reached his shoulders, palms resting on the blades. “You fucking minx.” His hand cups your chin, fingers lightly squishing your cheeks, forcing your lips to pucker as he leans in to press a chaste kiss on them. 

His index taps against your cheek gently, as his hold on your face loosens. “Open up.” He instructs, his voice low, eyes darkening and you feel your cunt fluttering around nothing. “Tongue out.” His fingers lightly shake your face from side to side possessively and your brain stops functioning, tongue sticking out as if on demand and you whine when you watch him gather saliva in his mouth, cheeks hollowing a little, before slowly letting it dribble down your awaiting muscle. Your eyes rolls back when you feel it and your fingernails instinctively dig into his shoulders. “Swallow.” He instructs again, and you obey with a desperate moan, revelling in his dominant demeanour. His hand wraps around your throat, feeling the movement and he kisses you again, grunting against your lips, as you struggle to keep up with him, mouth widening to take his tongue in and you feel the wetness smearing on your chin messily.   

You realise no one has ever kissed you like Haechan, and you wonder if he’s always kissing his sexual partners like this. Has anyone else experienced this level of intimacy with him before? You instantly feel the jealousy brewing at the thought of someone receiving this kind of affection; this kind of pleasure from him and you surprise yourself, never having felt this possessive over someone before. Something switches in you.

“Fuck me.” You breathlessly mumble, not recognising your own voice and he moans in your mouth as your hand reaches down, wrapping around his cock, smearing the shiny drops of precum adorning his tip. His hips thrust forward into your touch and you pump him steadily a couple more times, offering some sort of relief.   

He pulls away slightly, to look at you. “Let me grab a condom.” He says quickly before grabbing your ankles, unwrapping them from his waist.   

“Right, yes.” You nod dumbly, feeling a little silly for having lost all sensibility because of him.   

You watch him as he reaches blindly in the bedside table drawer; his eyebrows furrowing in concentration and his face lights up the second he finds one. You watch him as he sits back on his heels, ripping the foil with his teeth. You watch him as he rolls the latex carefully onto his hard cock, teeth sinking in his bottom lip as he pumps himself a few times, ensuring the condom is on properly, chest moving as he breathes heavily. You watch him as he moves closer, coating two fingers in saliva, before bringing them down to your slit again, rubbing up and down slowly before dipping them in and quickly pumping into you to prep you, even if you really don’t need it. You let him though, because you want to keep watching him for a little longer. 

He looks ethereal, skin glistening in a sheen layer of sweat, his shoulders wide, his chest and arm muscles lean, bicep flexing subtly as he expertly slides his fingers in and out, scissoring them to stretch you for him. He looks like the epitome of sex and you can’t even bring yourself to moan as his palm rubs against your sensitive clit, your jaw dropping with a quiet, trembling breath when he starts jabbing at your already abused g-spot and your hands release the sheets in favour of holding your legs open, when they threaten to close.

“Think I’m gonna cum again.” You mumble in awe, eyes staying on him still.   

“You think?” He asks, voice laced with sarcasm, pace quickening, urging you to unravel around his fingers for the second time tonight. “Go on, baby.” His free hand, presses against the back of your thigh, pushing your leg close to your chest, testing your flexibility and the second his eyes meet yours, you cum. Hard. “Yeah, good girl.” He praises softly and you let out a whine, allowing your eyes to finally shut, not being able to handle his intense stare, your back arching as your fingers dig into the backs of your thighs, legs uncontrollably shaking, walls clenching repeatedly around his hand, clit pulsing against the heel of his palm as he helps you ride out your orgasm.   

He starts kissing up your trembling body, lips wet, tongue lapping up your sweaty skin and he doesn’t even give you the chance to catch your breath when he harshly sucks your nipple in his warm mouth as his fingers leave your heat to wrap around his hard cock, rubbing the head up and down your soaked cunt. Your hands come up to grab onto his hair, as you attempt to anchor yourself and you can’t help but moan loudly when he pushes in. And even though it’s only the tip, it’s enough to drive you close to insanity.   

“Fuck!” You exclaim, forcing his head up so you can kiss him as he slowly bottoms out, distracting yourself from the stinging sensation.   

You both moan when his pelvis meets yours, his pubic bone flush against your hypersensitive clit as he gives you a second to adjust. He slowly pulls out to the tip and thrusts back in, maintaining a slow, careful pace to make sure you’re feeling comfortable.

“Relax for me.” He exhales a shaky laugh against your lips and you squeeze even harder to tease him. “Fuck! Baby, what the f- don’t.” He warns with a grunt as he wraps an authoritative hand around your neck and draws his hips back a little, before slamming in with force, not a second later. 

The loud noise that escapes your throat resembles a scream and your eyes roll back when he starts fucking into you hard and fast, wet slapping sounds echoing and you don’t even feel embarrassed at hearing how wet you are, the intense pleasure taking over your senses, completely clouding any coherent thought.

“Not so bratty now, are we?” He grunts against your jaw as the hand around your neck tightens slightly, causing your ears to start ringing and your eyes to water. He releases you just when you start feeling dizzy, allowing you to catch your breath. He lets out a dark laugh at your loud gasps and buries his hand in your hair instead, pulling at the roots, so your head lolls back on the pillows, giving him access to your neck. 

“So fucking wet, fffuck, so good.” He slurs between sloppy kisses against your sensitive skin as his hips slow down, fucking you nice and deep at a lazy pace, torturing you. “You take me so well, baby.” His crude words causing you to clench around him as his tongue laps from the base of your neck, up to your ear, flicking the lobe playfully.

“Look.” He whispers, moist breath tickling your ear as the hand fisting you hair, forces your head forward and off the pillow, making you look down between your bodies and you obediently open you eyes. You take in the unholy visual of his cock slowly dragging out to the tip, coated in your shiny slick essence, a white ring forming at the base and your eyes threaten to roll back when he so easily slides back in, at the same torturous pace. “See how perfect you are?”

Your nails drag down his back, leaving scratch marks behind and he hums against your neck when they dig into the flesh of his ass. “Faster, please.” You breathe out and he loosens his hold, allowing your head to tip back down, his eyes finding yours as he maintains the slow pace. 

"You sure, baby?" His tone mocking as he sits back up on his knees, looking down at your messy cunt practically sucking him back in every time he slowly pulls out. You reel at the sight of his feral expression, his eyes unfocused as they trail up and down your naked body, like he can’t decide what to focus on. You feel exposed to the core but your arousal wins and you moan loudly, back arching when his thumb slowly circles around your clit twice, stimulating the stiff nub. 

"Hae, please." You're on the verge of tears and he must like the sound of your begging, because he doesn’t hesitate this time.

He leans down again, bringing his lips to yours, thrusts increasing in pace and force significantly but never losing preciseness, giving you exactly what you want. “Yeah, you want it hard? Fuckin take it.” He grunts, kisses turning sloppy, all tongue and teeth and you can’t stop moaning, mouth hanging open against his as he relentlessly slams his hips against yours.

“Yes, oh my god.” You exhale against his mouth, as he changes the angle slightly and starts fucking directly into your g-spot, barely pulling out before thrusting back in, his balls slapping against your ass and you’re pretty sure you’ve never been fucked this good before. “Fuck, Haechan, baby, please please please, don’t stop.” You blabber, completely lost in mind-numbing bliss, your legs spreading as far as they can go, allowing him to thrust as deep as he pleases. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I need you to cum.” He whispers, tone laced with urgency, almost sounding like he’s in pain and he wastes no time; a hand slotting between your bodies, resuming the stimulation on your clit, as he supports his weight on one arm, thrusts unfaltering, unforgiving and just perfect. His fingers start rubbing rough, tight circles around the nub and your toes curl against his sides, arms securely wrapping around his shoulders, as your walls squeeze around him, indicating another orgasm approaching, and when his fingers along with the head of his cock rub against the right spot, you’re gone.

Your moan comes out broken, walls clamping down on him, legs pathetically attempting to close around him but failing as your thighs shake violently and you feel dizzy, a tear rolling down your temple from the intensity of your high.   

He keeps fucking you into the mattress, thrusts turning a little sloppy now that you're squeezing around him, hips losing their steady rhythm and when the pleasure borders overstimulation, causing you to mewl, he abruptly pulls out, kneeling between your legs and over your spent body. He pulls the condom off quickly with trembling fingers and he moans as he starts jerking himself off, aiming for your abdomen as his free hand curls around your ribs, holding you exactly where he wants you.  

“You look so good.” You exhale in awe as you observe him in the midst of his pleasure, his eyes shut, head thrown back, his pretty neck on display as he moans loudly and his hooded eyes find yours again for a second before they roll back into his head. 

“Shit, gonna cum.” He shakily announces, your praise seeming to have worked wonders, as you feel the first spurts of hot liquid landing on your skin. You take in the beautiful sight of his shaking form, chest and neck flushed, drenched in sweat, eyebrows creasing in between, eyes still shut, jaw slack as he releases short breaths.

He’s milking himself when you look down and you can’t help but ogle at the sight of your skin covered in the sticky white mess he’s created, illuminated by the bedside lamp. You notice some of it has landed on your tits, some on your tummy and you’re pretty sure some of it is pooling in the dip of your belly button, causing you to bite back a smile. 

“Fuck.” He breathes in relief as his eyes slowly open to look at you and he looks dazed, fucked out. His tan skin flushed, making him look delicious. Sweat drips down his temple, hands shaking as they rest on your thighs limply. “I think I blacked out for a second there.” He mutters in awe and you giggle at his crazy eyes, while he tries to regulate his breathing.

His cheeky smile has returned, and he leans in, taking a closer look at his work. “Damn, I did a number on you.” He teases, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the sinful sight. “Pretty.” He whispers and takes your limp hand in his, lips kissing gently on the back of it, eyes looking up at you innocently, like he didn’t just fuck you stupid.   

When he drops your hand, he leans down with no warning and you panic at his mischievous expression, as his head disappears between your legs.

“What are you doing?” You ask in confusion and he chuckles softly.   

“Shhh.” He breathes against your folds as his hands hold your legs open and the second his tongue swipes against your heat, you squirm, trying to move further up the bed, but he tightens his arms around your thighs, holding you still. “Relax, just take it.” He whispers calmly before gently sucking on your clit. His tongue slides down to lap at your entrance, slightly dipping in, tasting you directly, before flattening and licking up to the bundle of nerves, making you mewl when he swirls around it languidly. He keeps going, alternating between sucking, licking and gently circling until your legs are shaking again. Your hands release the sheets, moving to desperately hold onto his hair, fingers pulling, not knowing whether to push him away or pull him closer and his moan vibrates against your clit, pushing you over the edge once more. You cry out pathetically, not able to form any words, cumming uncontrollably on his tongue as he refuses to let up until your whole body shakes from overstimulation.  

“Please, I- I can’t- can't cum again.” You stumble over your words, as he licks against your entrance, slurping up your juices, the sounds incriminating and you don’t even have the energy to push him away anymore. You just accept that if he tries to make you come again, you’ll probably pass out. To your relief, he thankfully stops once he’s cleaned you up with his tongue.

You blink up at him when you feel his weight on you, his skin feels hot on yours, his cum smearing between you, and he doesn’t seem have a care in the world. The only thing he does seem to care about is shoving his tongue in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself, kissing you like he owns you and at this point, he might as well spell out his name on your body with his cum, because he has completely and utterly destroyed you and you know you’re irrevocably ruined for anyone else.   

“So good for me, baby girl.” He mutters wetly, mouth open against yours, breathing heavy. “So fucking sweet.” He whispers almost inaudibly and you cup his chin in your hand, squishing his cheeks between your fingers, pecking him on his puckered lips.   

“You’re fucking insane, Lee Haechan.” You weakly chuckle as he tries to kiss you again, his whine childish as your firm hold on his face prevents him from doing so. “Get off me, before I piss myself in your bed, you freak. You’re pressing against my bladder.”  

_

After having gently cleaned you up with a warm hand towel and carried you to the bathroom so you can sort yourself out, he’s got you back in his bed, safely cocooned in his arms and under the covers. His front is comfortably pressed against your back and you’re basking in the warmth and the nakedness.   

“Now I’m definitely sleepy.” You mumble with a content smile and he quietly chuckles in your hair, tightening his arms around you, holding you as close as possible, sighing in delight.  

“Mm same.” He mumbles sleepily against your neck. “You comfortable like this?” He checks, and you feel giddy at his attentiveness.   

“Mm-hmm, more than.” You nuzzle back into him, lazily stroking your fingers up and down the arm that’s wrapped around your middle, his palm casually cupping your boob; not squeezing, just gently holding. You feel him smile as he presses a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

A few moments of comfortable silence pass, and just when you think his breathing has started to slow down, he quietly speaks again.  

“Y/N?” He asks tentatively and his serious tone worries you.   

“Yeah?” You attempt to turn your head to look at him, but his tight embrace holds you in place and you presume he needs to not be looking at you when he says his next words.   

“I think-” He pauses, collecting his thoughts and you have a feeling you know what he’s trying to get at, so you give him time, hand still gently stroking his arm. “Are we on the same page here?”  

“Well,” You sigh, feigning uncertainty and the tensing in his arm almost makes you regret dragging this. “That depends Lee Haechan.” The teasing smile evident in your voice. “What page are you on?”  

 People say ‘don’t shit where you eat' for a reason. 

You knew going to a work do where free alcohol was served with your ex-situationship lurking was not a smart idea. You knew it. But you also refused to back down and disrupt your plans because of a narcissist who is known for not being able to handle his alcohol.  

 It was all fun and games at the start of the night, but the more drinks he kept having, the more his petty comments kept coming your way.  

 “Remember when you used to be fun?”  

 “Why so uptight? Did someone hurt you?”  

 And so, you caved. You called the only person you knew could save you no matter what.  

 “Hey, what you up to?” You hold the phone between your shoulder and ear while rummaging through your bag for a lighter. The situation definitely demands a smoke. If you could find the stupid pink lighter you once stole off Haechan.

The cars are loud on the main road outside the venue your company had booked for the evening, but you can still hear the faint clicking of his keyboard through the speaker. He is definitely in the middle of a gaming session. 

 “Already gave up?” He says with a little amused laugh. You can almost picture the smug smirk on your friend’s face. 

 “It's either that or I get violent.” You snarl in the cold of the night, the lighter still nowhere to be found. "It's been what, an hour? And the man's already five drinks in."  

 “Yikes. You made him turn to alcohol. Poor fella.” He pretends pity, but you know he’s always hated the guy.  

 “Not my fault he can’t take the truth.”  

 “Eh, yeah, he’s a dick, but you also did tell him you faked all your orgasms.” He snorts. “Surprised he hasn't already killed himself.”  

 “Aha!” You shout a little too excitedly for having just found a lighter.  

 “You good?” He asks curiously, keyboard clicking coming to a halt.  

 “Yeah, sorry, just found my lighter.”  

 “You mean my lighter.” He deadpans. “I knew it was you.”  

 You stifle a giggle at his whining. “Who else could it have been?”  

He scoffs. “I have other friends.”  

 “Mm,” You hum as you light the cigarette and take the first nerve-calming drag. You exhale in relief before continuing, “You only chat to them on Overwatch nowadays.”  

“Be thankful I'm actually spending time with you on my days off,”  He grumbles.

“You're so right. I am an ungrateful piece of shit. Will you ever forgive me.” You respond in the most indifferent tone you can muster.

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever - when’s your bus?” He asks, totally unfazed by your sassy comeback.  

 “Like five minutes?” You glance at the schedule board. The bus to Haechan’s place shows 5’, while the one that takes you home shows 7’. “I could always go home. Don’t wanna keep you up.”

 “It’s 8 p.m. on a Friday night.” He brushes off your hesitation, clearly having already decided for you. “I’ve got food covered, just bring some soju.”

 You're glad he can't see the satisfied grin that takes over your face.

He somehow always manages to say endearing things with a tone that could make him come across as cold to someone who isn't familiar with his mannerisms. It's easy for you to notice the always present but underlying softness, though.

You absentmindedly keep flicking the cigarette even though there's no ash left at the tip. “Alright, say less.”  

“And none of that peach-flavoured shit you like,” He adds. “It's too sweet.” 

“You'll drink what I pay for.” 

You end up getting two peach and two original-flavoured bottles anyway.

⟡

  “The fuck is he so bitter for?” Haechan slumps down next to you on his spacious sofa after getting rid of the empty take out boxes, making you bounce a little. “I swear it wasn’t that serious?”  

 “It wasn’t!” You exclaim in annoyance, kicking your feet from where you’re lying across the sofa, head heavy against the armrest. Your eyes feel a little droopy from the lovely meal you've just had and the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed tonight — not enough to get you drunk, just enough to give your body a pleasant buzz.  

 “Maybe he really liked you.” Haechan points out and you can’t help but raise your head a little to throw him a ‘be serious’ look. He snorts. “What?” 

 The cotton of his sweatpants feels soft against your toes, and you subconsciously wiggle them between his thigh and the sofa as you relax against the soft cushions. “That man hated me. He just liked my pu—“ 

 “Yah,” He cuts you off, still chuckling in disbelief at your non-existent filter. “How can you be so unhinged when you drink?” 

 Your eyes are shut but you giggle along, always enjoying making him a little uncomfortable. It’s a rare occurrence.  

 “Speaking of…” He trails, clearly in thought about something.  

 “Of what? My genitals?” Your attempt to mock him earns you a sharp pinch on the fleshy bit of your calf. "Ah! Okay okay okay, I'm sorry." You squeal in pain until he retrieves his fingers.

“Weirdo.” He mumbles disapprovingly, making you let out a not-so-charming snort that may or may not resemble a laugh. You can picture the offended expression on his face. The pout his heart-shaped lips always form when he's annoyed is too adorable to forget.

“You were saying...?” You prod with a gentle voice this time, wiggling your toes again, your hands folded on your tummy as you keep your eyes closed. 

 “Did you actually fake it every single time?” He shuffles a little further down the sofa, his sweats dragging against your toes as he gets more comfy and now you’re pretty sure your right foot is now stuck under his ass.  

 “Every. Single. Timeeeee.” You drag the word with a dramatic groan.  

 “Jeez. Poor guy.” Haechan exhales in wonderment. “Was his peepee like, really small or...?”  

 “Pfff.” You blow out a snicker. “It wasn’t that much of a size issue. It was more…I dunno, just lack of technique, I guess?” 

 “Hm.” Haechan hums in thought. “What about when he’d go down on you?”  

 You’re no stranger to having these types of conversations with Haechan. You’ve been friends long enough to feel comfortable discussing your sex lives to an extent. You’re both sexually active adults, it's no secret, but for some reason, in this specific moment, it feels a little too intimate. Maybe it’s the quiet of his apartment, with the tv being muted and all. Or maybe it’s the alcohol in your system.  

 “That’s never really worked for me, you know.” You admit quickly, without really elaborating.  

 There’s a small pause from his side, which makes you move your bent knees to the side a little so you can check your friend’s expression. He seems confused.  

 “Like ever?” His eyebrows furrow a little before smoothing down again. “With anyone?”  

 You shake your head with a little pout, containing your laugh. It’s kind of funny how concerned he looks, even though it has nothing to do with him. 

 “Well, if it means anything, on behalf of the entire male population, I do apologise.” He puts his hands together and closes his eyes, as though begging for your forgiveness.  

 You stifle a laugh and lightly kick his thigh. “Pretty sure there’s much more pressing matters the male population should feel sorry for.”  

 “Touché.” He smiles awkwardly at your observation.  

 “Also, I hate to break it to you, but…” You move your feet from underneath his leg and place them on his lap. His hand casually squeezes one ankle, the touch comforting over your trousers. “Surely, you know most of your partners have faked it at least once.”  

 He scoffs playfully. “Yeah, probably in uni, when I was constantly fucking around, but definitely not in the last couple years.”  

 “Delusion at its finest.”  

 His eyes roll sarcastically. “I’m very aware of my oral skills, don’t you worry about me.”  

 You breathe out an amused laugh at his frown. “Right right right, my bad.”  

 “I could always prove it.”  

 Your laughter is louder this time. “What? You gonna invite a girl over and make me watch?”  

 “I mean…sure, if you’re into that,” He smirks, hand around your ankle tightening slightly. “Not really what I meant though.”  

Now, that sparks some interest in you.

 “You offering me head or something?” You maintain the playfulness in your tone, but you’re very aware of the heat creeping up on your face at what he's insinuating.  

 He just shrugs, like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. “You get an orgasm; I get to prove you wrong.”  

 “You must really love proving me wrong.” You’re positive of your blush showing now, his amused grin enough proof as he inspects your face.  

 He shrugs again. He’s too calm for this situation. “Won’t be a chore, I’m sure.”  

“Ey, quit pulling my leg.” You warn in disbelief. There's no way this isn't one of his tricks.

He scoffs with a lopsided grin, tongue poking against his cheek. “I'm not pulling anything.”

“You'd seriously go down on me just to prove a point?” Your eyeballs feel like they're about to pop out of your head.

“Last chance. Take it or leave it.” He says monotonously, like it's some kind of auction.

This whole situation is absurd. But what's even more absurd is that you panic at the thought of missing the chance of your friend eating you out. You must be experiencing a simulation. That's the only credible explanation.

You purse your lips in thought. Why can't you bring yourself to say no? “What if you actually fail?”  

“I won’t.”  

 “You might.” You press again.  

 He exhales an exasperated laugh. “Then, I dunno. You get something to use against me.”  

 You certainly like the sound of that. “I could always fake it. I’m good at that.”  

 “I’ll know if you do.” He raises an eyebrow in warning, expression more serious than you’re used to. “So, best not.”  

 You swallow a little too audibly, too aware of his touch on your leg now. It’s when your gaze drops to his lips that you really do come to a decision.  

 “Alright.” You agree, as nonchalantly as possible. “No weird shit, though.”  

 He snorts a laugh as he sits up a little and you scoot back to rest on your elbows. “What exactly classifies as weird shit?”  

 “I don’t know...” You look around as though you’ll find an answer in his living room. You know it's just a way to avoid his eyes. “Just don’t make it weird.” 

 “I won’t.” He raises his hands in defence.

“Good.”

He stares at you for a few moments, and it’s already fucking weird. “Wanna stay here or go to the bedroom?”  

Oh god. This is actually happening.

 “Here.” You decide quickly. “Bedroom’s a bit too serious.”  

 He nods in approval. “Fair.”  

 You nod back, but really knowing what else to do.  

 “Alright, let’s see your granny panties then.”  

 “See, that’s fucking weird! I knew you'd—“ 

 “Okay okay,” He cackles loudly at your expense, catching the cushion you attempt to smack into his face. “I’m sorry, I’ll behave.”  

 You glare at him, not really believing a word that comes out of his stupidly pretty mouth. You know him too well.  

 “Would you kindly take your trousers off or shall I do it?” He asks carefully this time, sounding too genuine, eyelashes batting dramatically. You know it's all an act. 

 You don’t choose words this time. Instead, you lie back down and unbutton your trousers, but before you can start removing them, Haechan stops you with his hands on yours.  

 “Wait.” His slightly worried expression makes your heart drop. Did he just trick you into agreeing so he could take it back? What sick, twisted motherf— “You actually wanna do this, right?”  

You barely register your smile. Him making sure to get your repeated consent shouldn’t feel so endearing. “I’ve already said yes, Hyuck.”  

 “No, you said ‘alright’.” He mimics your voice playfully, making your smile widen. “Not the same.”  

 “My bad.” You get comfortable again, your hands resuming their actions as you start pushing your pants down, hips raising a little, and when the piece of clothing hits the floor, you speak again, smile still intact. “Yes, I want to.”  

 His eyes don’t even flicker down to your bottom half. They stay on your face. Even when your legs spread to accommodate him as he shuffles closer, he doesn’t allow himself to look below your waist.  

 He doesn’t come across as embarrassed, or awkward. He’s just… calm. His breathing stable compared to yours, his hands steady on your knees, no tremble detected, his blinking slow, eyes moving unhurriedly over your squirming body. He’s too fucking normal about this.  

 And you’re already turned on. And embarrassed. And so not calm.  

 “Cute.” His endearing remark breaks the silence when he finally eyes your underwear, his thumb delicately tracing the baby blue bow in the centre of the waistline. You’re glad you chose black lace instead of anything else that could betray your wetness.  

 You can feel it leaking. It’s uncomfortable and very unsettling. A reminder of the absurdity you've found yourself in on this random Friday evening.

 He's one of your favourite people. Your best guy friend. And he’s got your pussy dripping and your heart skipping more beats than it should. 

 And he hasn’t even touched you properly yet.  

 His hands settle on your inner thighs, spreading your legs as far as they’ll go, and when he brings his face closer to where you need him, you have to close your eyes for a few moments. Just to anchor yourself a little.  

 “Are you uncomfortable?” He asks softly, his warm breath hitting your tummy.  

 You look down to find that his concerned eyes are already inspecting your face. “No. It’s just weird. It’s you.” 

 “Exactly.” He reaffirms with a cheeky grin. “It's just me.”   

 You take a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “I’m good. I promise.” 

 “Good.” He presses a tiny peck just above the bow of your panties, where your blouse has ridden up and left the skin uncovered. His nose tickles you slightly. “Just sit there and look pretty.”

 You accidentally let out a giggle at his gentle demeanour, not really familiar with this side of him. He’s always playful with you, sure, just not this soft. As touchy as Haechan can be, it’s always clumsy and chaotic. He’ll hug you here and there or put an arm around your shoulders to offer needed comfort, he'll pat you on the back, ruffle your hair just to annoy you, but he's never lingered. Never crossed any lines. Never done or said anything to make you question your friendship.  

 Until now.  

 He rearranges his position a little, until he’s leaning comfortably on his elbows, face directly above your heat, arms loosely wrapped around your thighs, hands stroking up and down the skin. He's being gentle. Attentive.

It's annoying how you can't look away. How could you? When he looks so good between your legs. So, you just watch.

 He starts with a kiss on your left inner thigh, then another one on your right one, where he keeps descending, each smooch wetter than the previous one until he’s reached the edge of your soaked underwear. 

 He makes brief eye contact when his tongue dips out to lick the crease that connects your thigh and mound, making your breath hitch. He does the same on the other side, and then resumes the kisses, covering your skin in dewy patches.

It’s his heavy breaths that affect you the most. Simply because they betray that he's not as unaffected as he seems.  

 You don’t rush him. Don’t beg him. Don’t let yourself make too many sounds other than some shaky breaths here and there when his teeth nip at your skin. You hold back as best as you can. Even when the pulse of your clit becomes almost unbearable. Even when the slick that drips out of you is too difficult to ignore. Even when you’re dying to grab onto his hair and shove his face into your pussy. You just force your hands to grab onto the cushions that support your head.  

 Your composure eventually breaks when he lands a lingering kiss just above your covered clit. A barely audible whimper fills the quiet of his apartment. You know he’s heard it when his hold on your thighs tightens, pretty hands flexing, fingers digging in the flesh, the cool sensation of his rings soothing you. You can’t help but smile to yourself at the acknowledging gesture. At the way he tries to ground you.  

 His lips part wider this time, tongue poking out, gently massaging your clit over the ruined lace, the moist warmth seeping through the fabric, teasing you like you’ve never been teased before.  

 “Hyuck.” The nickname comes out whiny, almost broken.  

 He hums in response, the vibration going straight through your sensitive bud, pulling an accidental moan out of you. His tongue slips down to your entrance and that’s when he makes a sound for the first time tonight. It’s very obvious he’s felt the arousal that’s probably spilling from the sides of your sticky panties.  

 “You taste good.” He whispers, more to himself it seems, his eyes glued to the mess between your legs as he bites down on his lower lip. “Can I take these off?”  

 You blink down at him, his pleading tone causing your pussy to flutter around nothing, and his wide, boba eyes - full of hope - cause your stomach to do a flip. You can’t do anything other than nod dumbly.  

 He moves swiftly; his fingers already slipping into the sides of your panties as he sits up to make more room, your hips lift in response and in no time the garment is somewhere on his floor. Haechan doesn’t give you much time to feel exposed. He gets to work quickly. Eager hands grab onto your hips and effortlessly drag you closer to his face, prying your legs wide open, nails digging into the backs of your thighs as his eyes drink in the filthy sight of your slicked up centre.  

 Your brain malfunctions when you hear a not-so-subtle inhale.

Did he just...smell you?

You hands move on their own, clinging onto his hair, pushing him down, while your hips lift just a tiny bit, and before he can protest, his nose bumps into your swollen bud.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve practically shoved his face into your folds. His tongue makes contact immediately, licking from your entrance to your clit, lightly at first, the tip of it barely making contact, almost tickling you. Then he repeats the action, a little bolder each time, edging you.

A wide swipe of the pink muscle against the whole expanse of your throbbing pussy sends a shock through your system. And when his tongue swirls around your swollen bud, you let your head fall back and your eyes close in bliss. “Holy shit, you are good at this.”

You’re awfully aware of the sigh that slips out of you, but at this point you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Decorum is the least of your worries when your best friend of three years has his face buried in your most private parts.  

 Awareness flies out of the window too when Haechan’s full lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently before his tongue joins with languid strokes. You can’t tell how loud you’re being, all you can focus on is the pleasure and the wet slurping sounds he’s making.  

 “Told you.” He mumbles mid lap and before you can think of a smart comeback, his tongue briefly sneaks down to your entrance, collecting more of your arousal before travelling back up to flick gently. Your hips unintentionally buck into his face, searching for more friction.  

 He’s clearly teasing you. Toying with you. Trying to make a point. Greedy asshole. 

 “Fuck!” You exclaim in surprise when his thumbs spread your pussy lips, isolating your clit and lifting the hood so that his mouth can suck harder than before. Your back arches, the direct contact with the nerve endings making your legs shake involuntarily. Your fingers curl in his strands in despair and your eyes roll back when he doesn’t let up. His harsh flicks come in up and down motions, before turning into long, persistent swirls and then repeat. “Hah—wait—fuck, I’m—” 

 “Shut up and cum.” He rasps harshly, his voice alone making you clench around emptiness.

You feel his spit combined with your juices trickling down to your ass, possibly staining his sofa too. You’re so close you can taste it. Your pussy throbs from the sensitivity, thighs shake uncontrollably, the backs of your knees where your legs are bent drip in sweat, your lungs are struggling to keep up, the coil in your tummy so close to bursting.  

It's nothing close to what you had in mind. He's making you look like a fool for ever doubting his skills. You find yourself feeling irrationally jealous of all the women that have experienced this when you'd been having to act and scream out fake moans.

 He suddenly pulls back a little, and your head instantly shoots up at the loss. Your eyes meet his hooded ones, the lower half of his face covered in you, and as if the sight wasn’t already scandalous, the thick string of saliva that dribbles out of his mouth and directly onto your clit, completes the piece of art of whatever the fuck this is.  

 “Jesus.” You huff when you let your head loll back down, and then his tongue is on you again, flicking faster and harsher than before, hitting a spot on one side of your clit that makes stars appear behind your eyelids. “Fuck, right there.”  

 You hold his head exactly where you need him, and he obliges without a word. The assault of his mouth combined with his hand blindly reaching up to give your boob a light squeeze, make your whole body lock up for a moment before shakes of intense pleasure take over you. The broken whine that escapes your throat, barely registers as you cum hard on his tongue. You don’t even realise that your trembling hand engulfs the one he's got on your breast, interlocking your fingers with his while trying not to drown in the abyss of the high.  

 It’s impossible. Not when he keeps licking and sucking, completely unbothered, moaning like he’s experiencing this as intensely as you are, gripping onto your thigh and fingers like he’ll lose his mind if he doesn’t offer every bit of pleasure he can. 

 He lets you ride it out quite literally on his face. Doesn’t stop you from grinding on his nose and tongue. He happily stays there as you use him until you’ve had enough. And even when you can't take more, he still doesn’t stop. He slowly drags his tongue between your folds before he lets it dip into your leaking hole. As far as it can go. Tasting your release from the source. And when his arm curls around your thigh, fingers coming to touch you from above, rubbing harsh circles on your clit, you have to get away. Before you lose your fucking mind.  

 Simply asking him to stop does cross your mind for half a second, but for some reason you go with what should feel forbidden. You grab onto the collar of his top, your other hand already curling around the back of his neck, pulling him up until his face is directly above yours, and before he can question your actions, you’re claiming his mouth with yours.  

 No testing the waters, no permission asked. Just parted lips against parted lips, your tongue shoving past them, tasting your own arousal. You feel him go rigid for a few seconds, and you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t stutter with worry at the thought of scaring him away. At the thought of crossing a boundary. But then you feel his body melt into yours and his soft lips start responding, matching your eagerness, jaw slackening to let your tongue tangle with his.  

 It’s kind of gross. Saliva mixed with your essence drips from the corner of your mouth. It’s messy. Lazy. But it feels nice. And oddly sweet. And warm. And you hate that fresh heat blooms in your belly just from a kiss.  

 His hand coming to cup your chin possessively does something to you. His fingers lightly squish your cheeks before they trail up, palm engulfing your jaw, tilting your head a little so he can deepen the kiss with a satisfied hum. Such a simple gesture, but it sends tingles down your spine, makes your breath hitch and your hips stutter with newfound want. His thumb tracing your cheek reminds you that he’s still in control of the situation.

That he really did prove you wrong.

But you're not annoyed. If anything, it turns you on even more. As twisted as it may sound. The thought of your best friend sticking the very same tongue he made you cum with down your throat, should make your skin crawl. Instead, it makes you want more.   

 “Fuck.” He exhales in your mouth, pulling back just enough to take a look at you with slightly widened eyes, pupils blown out. A thin string of saliva connects you for a second before you lick your lips, breaking the bond.  

 All you keep thinking is 'has he always been this pretty?'. Rosy cheeks, swollen pink lips, nose and chin still glistening with your slick, making more of it gush from your sensitive heat.  

 “I need to cum or I might go fucking nuts.” He complains with a frown, head dropping forward so he can peep between your bodies, and you can’t help but do the same. 

 You see it. The dark stain at the front of his grey sweats, the very prominent bulge of his erection brushing your stomach, barely touching you.  

 “Okay.” You mutter weakly, but then panic when he moves to get off you. You instinctively grab onto his t-shirt, pulling him back down, his erection now trapped between your lower halves. “Where are you going?”  

 His blinks quickly, surprise evident at your resistance. “Bathroom?”  

 “Why?”  

 He lets out a confused laugh. “I don’t know. I thought— 

 You shake your head at him, hips bucking slightly to meet his, a gentle grind, enough to help him get the message. “You don’t have to go.”  

 His lips part at the friction, eyebrows furrowing adorably, eyes fluttering closed as he allows his weight to sink back on you.  

 “Fuck.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest on your shoulder when you grind a little harder this time. “You wanna watch me or something?”

 “Whatever you want.” You mumble in his ear, hand burying in his hair to comfort him with gentle strokes. You hope he catches on the hidden meaning behind your words.  

 “That’s a little misleading.” He lifts his head to meet your eyes again. “I could want things you might not.”  

 “I doubt that.” You say, a restrained smile tugging at your lips. “Unless you wanna put it in my ass.”  

 His light chuckle evokes relief in your tense muscles. “Ass is where you draw the line?”  

 “Sorry.” You smirk teasingly, letting your free hand slip under the hem of his top, fingertips caressing along his spine. You bite back a smile at the little shiver that visibly runs through him.  

 His amused smile and wondering eyes make you feel flustered. Your cheeks burn and you pulse quickens, but you try to remain calm.

“S’okay, not what I want right now anyway.” He lets his hips press flush against yours, completely unashamed of showing off how turned on he is.  

 “You’re good then.” You sneak a hand around his nape to pull him down for another kiss, but he resists this time.  

 He giggles at your confused expression. “Cute.”  

 You pout angrily in response, earning another playful laugh from him.  

 “So, like, just so we're crystal clear,” He leans closer, nose nuzzling yours as he cages your head with his arms. “What you're implying is that if I said I wanted to have sex with you...you'd want that too.”  

 You daringly stare into his eyes when you reach between your bodies and give him a teasing squeeze through his layers.

The stuttering gasp he lets out is hard to miss. “That's not an answer.”

“Then learn to take a hint.” You press harder, reveling in the cute whine that slips out of him.  

 He finally gives up and closes the small gap, kissing you again, with more urgency this time, his tongue sneaking in your mouth while you slowly stroke him through his sweats.

He’s bigger than you expected. Not too long, but thick enough for the stretch to sting at first. You can almost feel it in your walls as they pulse around nothing, desperately needing to be filled.

It feels like torture.

You’re about to complain when you feel him shift his weight a little, your arms quickly coming to wrap around his neck, preventing him from interrupting the kiss.  

 You realise his bottoms are out of the way when his heavy cock slaps against your stomach. In any other occasion you’d feel embarrassed at the way your hips wiggle, seeking for relief and the whimper your let out against his lips.  

 He doesn’t try to shame you or tease you, like the Haechan you know would. He simply responds with a shaky exhale and a slow roll of his hips before kissing you harder, deeper, messier. He keeps devouring your lips even when the velvety head of his cock prods at your entrance, separating your folds with a little squelch. His tongue slides against yours smoothly as he breaches past your tight opening, just the tip going in, testing the waters. He moans when you let your legs spread wider for him, silently inviting him in your soaked heat.  

 Your mouth hangs open, eyes squeezing shut when he’s suddenly pushed halfway in, the burn intense but still somehow laced with pleasure, making your body tremble a little and your fingers curl into his shoulder blades, nails catching onto the soft cotton of his shirt.  

 “Does it hurt?” He checks in a whisper, hips halting when he meets resistance, your pussy tightening when it all becomes too much. He's too big for you to just take in one go.  

 “Stings a little.” You nod, eyes still closed even when you feel him staring at you.  

 “I'll go slow,” He lands a wet smooch on your cheek, earning a giddy smile from you. “Just relax for me.”  

 “M’trying.” You whine pathetically. “Why’s your dick so fat? What the fuck?”  

 He breathes out a chuckle into your neck. “Why’s your pussy so tight? You a virgin or something?”  

 You can’t find it in you to play along anymore, especially when he pulls back out to the tip before sliding back in the same amount as before. He starts building a slow rhythm, thrusts shallow, only going halfway in. Until your walls start to gradually relax around him, allowing him to sink in a little deeper each time.

You both sigh in unison when his hips finally meet yours.  

 “Shit, that's too deep.” You gasp into his shoulder, arms hugging him closer as your trembling body seeks more of his warmth, trying to somehow subdue the mix of pain and pleasure.  

 He grinds upwards, rolling his hips in an angle that makes his cock graze a perfect spot along your snug walls. Your muscles still try to adjust to the thickness, but you welcome it nevertheless. He stays there for a little while, not moving while he scatters lazy kisses along your neck, clearly trying to help you loosen up. His fingers hook into the neckline of your blouse, dragging that side down the slope of your shoulder along with your bra strap, revealing more skin to cover in kisses.  

 “Can we take our clothes off?” He asks while he slowly drags his plush lips and eager tongue along your collarbone.  

 “Yes, please.” You nod a little too eagerly, jittery hands already sneaking under the sides of his t-shirt, helping him get rid of the annoying layer.  

 He sits up a little, length still sheathed in your leaking pussy as he quickly removes his top, revealing ravishing golden skin and lean muscle. His chest is a little more buff than you remember from your summer holidays, his biceps a tiny bit more prominent. 

You could eat him up. 

 “Stop staring.” He gives you bashful smile, hands engulfing your hips, lifting your ass off the sofa just a little so he can spread his knees more and rest your thighs over his.  

 Your lips part in a quiet moan when you feel his cock move inside you, tickling that spot again. “Sorry, it’s all just a little...”  

 “Strange?” He completes your sentence for you.  

 You nod with a little airy laugh, earning another grin from him. 

 “Take this off for me?” He drags the hem of your top just below your ribs, and you quickly take action, fumbling with shaky hands to pull the thin office blouse over your head. “Bra too.”  

 Again, your hands move of their own accord, just following his instructions. You reach behind you, fingers pinching the clasp of the bra, unhooking it with a snap, allowing the lacy garment to loosen on your skin. You watch his expression as you peel the straps down your arms slowly, before flinging the lace somewhere across the floor.  

 You’re both completely naked now. The subtle throb of his stiff length inside you is a reminder of the situation you're in.

Your eyes remain on his face, while his drink in your nudity, roaming shamelessly, like you’re an intricate painting that needs studying. From your lips to your collarbones, to your tits - where they linger - over your stomach, then down to where you’re still connected.  

 “Pretty.” He mutters quietly, and it feels like the word isn’t even aimed at you, but at your pussy.  

 “Stop staring.” You throw his own words back at him, but his intense gaze sends a fresh flood of arousal out of your clenching heat anyway, drenching his cock in it too. You can't help but secretly love how he's ogling, eyes glazed with what could only be pure lust.   

 He blatantly ignores you. Just takes hold of your waist with one hand and plants the other one flat by your shoulder to support his weight. And then his hips start moving. Finally.  

 You grip onto the soft skin of his thighs as he drags his length out to the tip before slowly sinking back in. The wet sounds are humiliating and arousing at the same time, and you can’t help but involuntarily squeeze him in.  

 It seems that brings him out of the trance he's in, making him lose whatever was left of his patience. Without warning he pushes your legs up, squishing your knees against your tits. Giving you no time to react, he starts ramming into your dripping cunt, no care in the world. Completely opposite to his previously careful actions. No easing you in, no letting you adjust. Just vigorous, hard snaps of his hips, his balls slapping against your ass, creating obscene sounds combined with the slurps of your cunt around him.  

 You’re still somewhat in shock, trying to comprehend what he’s putting your body through, but when he slightly adjusts his angle and starts jamming directly into your g-spot, you let out a whiny shriek. 

 “Yeah? You like that?” He rasps, dark eyes finding yours, consuming your pleasure.

 “Uhuh,” You moan out, your nails dig into his thigh muscles. “Please, keep going.”  

 “So needy.” He mocks, leaning over you and folding you in half, testing your flexibility as your legs hook over his shoulders. The penetration is too deep, too intense. Makes your legs shake so much you have to wrap your own arms around the backs of your thighs to minimise the tremble.  

 “Fuck you.” You scoff, the words laced arousal even though frustration boils in your chest.  

 He laughs. So mean but so sexy. “Always wondered what you'd sound like.”  

 “Shut up, you’re so gross.” You whine, your pussy squelching as it tightens again. He’s taunting you and getting a kick out of it. A sick sick man. A sick man who's got you dripping on his sofa. Because he's too fucking hot right now.  

 “And you’re kind of a slut.” He points out with a hard thrust, bulbous head hitting against your cervix, making your eyes roll back into their sockets,. “Begging me to fuck you like this.”

 “Nggh f-fuck, Hyuck, don’t call me that.” You try your best to sound grossed out, but it only comes out as a weak plea. 

 “Awh, why? Like it a little too much?” More like loved it, but you know better that to ever admit that. “Yeah, you do. Look at you, fucking creaming.” He’s greedily staring between your legs, at how his cock is abusing your needy cunt. “Who knew you’d be so thirsty for dick, baby.” He blabbers aimlessly, sounding a little too far gone to care. “My cute little bestie is such a slut, hm?”  

 You have to bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming. Your face and neck feel like they’re on fire, but your sensitive walls keep inviting him in regardless.  

 “Knew you’d be a fucking yapper.” You grit, hoping to piss him off.  

 “Mm.” He offers you a lazy smile instead. Like a dumb fucking idiot. “You know me so well.”  

Your pussy flutters at that, and strangely, so does your heart.

 He keeps fucking into you at the same pace. Not too fast, but hard enough for your ass to ache from the slaps of his hips. You want him closer.  

 “My leg’s cramping.” You lie mindlessly.  

 You’re not sure if he sees right through you, but he slips your legs off his shoulders anyway, letting them loosely settle around his hips, and you seize the opportunity to pull him closer, a hand grabbing onto the back of his neck.  

 He groans lowly at the forced proximity. “Shit.”

 “Faster.” You demand, hands tugging at his hair as he buries his face in your neck. He doesn’t say a word, just does as told. Fucks you faster and a little harder than before, cock barely pulling out before jamming back in, creating a delicious vibration against your clit and front wall. “Oh, my god, yes.”  

 “So good, baby.” He whispers raggedly in your ear, the pet name causing goosebumps to raise on your sweaty skin and turbulence in your chest. “So warm and slippery.”

A particularly sharp thrust makes you cry out, your legs closing in on his hips, preventing him from moving for a second, before he shoves them open again.

“Just take it.” He grunts, hips resuming their assault as his teeth graze your jaw before trapping your earlobe between them. “You asked for this, didn't you?”  

 “Fuck, please.” You whimper out pitifully, not entirely sure what you’re begging for at this point. Your focus is interchanging between the way his chest rubs against yours, stimulating your aching nipples, and his fat cock stretching your cunt like it's carving out its shape in you, as though he's trying to ruin you for anyone else.  

A hand buries in your hair, pulling hard enough to make you gasp, your head lolling back, giving him enough space to lap the sweat off your neck, lustful, angry kisses littering the sensitive skin.

It's too much. Too dizzying. And so fucking good.

 You’re so close. Right on the edge. You just need something to push you over. Something you’re too shy to ask for.

You let your fingers wrap around his wrist instead, guiding his hand to your neck. It lies there limply for a second, just at the base of your throat, and then he lifts his head a little, forehead resting against your temple, nose nuzzling your cheek. Once again, your wish is his command. His palm engulfs your throat, fingers applying the perfect pressure on your pulse points. So perfect that your eyes roll back and your hips stutter, while his don't falter even a little, maintaining their intense rhythm.  

 “Hyuckie,” You whisper the loving nickname weakly, too lost in the daze, not able to care about how vulnerable you sound. You need him to know how fucked up he's got you. “Can I cum? Please?” 

 “Fuck, you're so cute.” Haechan whines, the tenderness in his voice contrasting his demanding thrusts. “It’s okay, baby, Huyckie's got you.”  

 His sweet, reassuring words combined with every single of your nerve endings being stimulated to the max, send you into an all-consuming climax. Just a couple more thrusts and your pussy squeezes him so tight, kneads his shaft in rhythmic pulses, to the point you’re worried you might actually push him out, but you’re so thankful he doesn’t let up.

His hips smack into yours harder, faster, prolonging your orgasm for as long as he can. Your muscles spasm from the aftershocks, hands grabbing onto his back, legs quivering around his waist. And just when you’re floating in bliss - body and mind feeling light and fuzzy - you utter something that would have shocked you, weren't you in this delirious state.  

 “Hyuck?” Your voice comes out shaky and breathless. “You’re still my best friend, right?”  

He stills for a moment, slamming deep inside you, pulling a yelp out of you.

 “What the fuck.” He growls out, sounding enraged as well as surprised. His cock kisses your cervix, before it drags against your incredibly sensitive walls, the pleasure bordering pain when he starts fucking you like he wants to punish you, your body torn between needing a way out and begging for everything he’s giving you. Especially when he sounds so wrecked. “You can’t say that unless you want me to nut inside you.”  

 “Yeah, please.” You put on the whiniest voice you can, hoping he cracks. “Want it.”  

You've already lost the battle. You might as well act reckless now.

 “Jesus fuck.” He pants in awe. “Are you insane or did I actually fuck you stupid?”

The blissed-out laugh that rolls out of you, makes you sound completely dumb and out of breath. Maybe he did fuck you stupid.

An arm slings around your shoulders securely, holding you close as he grabs onto your thigh with his free hand, hooking your leg higher on his waist. His thrusts are messy now, cock stuffing you in uncoordinated short plunges, slipping out a few times due to the wetness, but quickly finding its way back in your quivering hole. 

 “I’m such a good bestie, right?” You prod, loving his little whines and how responsive he's suddenly become.  

 “Yes, baby, you're so so good to me.” His blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, harsh breaths hitting your collarbone in hot puffs. He’s slightly trembling and your heart aches a little at how pliant with need his is, how soft his skin feels on yours, so you thread your fingers through his messy hair, caressing gently to offer some relief as he nears his peak. “Oh fuck... oh god—I’m gonna—” 

 “That's it.” You praise in a whisper, struggling to keep your legs spread wide open for him, toes curling from the overstimulation, breaths stuttering against his neck. "Please please, cum in me, wanna feel you." 

 “Shit, ffffuck—I’m cumming... I’m cumming.” He moans, all strained from the building pressure, and then he’s visibly shaking, his whole length burying deep inside, to the hilt, as his hot cum paints your walls in quick spurts, filling up your spent pussy, just like you begged him to. He's so vocal; mewls and broken whines rolling out of him as he delivers a few more messy pumps that turn into languid grinds. 

 You can’t help but moan with him, clenching on purpose to milk everything out of him, loving the claim he’s laying upon your body. And when he lifts his weight a little, just to look down, you find the most sinful sight. He grinds one last time before pulling out slowly, the head of his softening cock bumping into your clit, making you flinch while smearing both your releases all over your puffy folds.  

 “Shit.” He exhales in wonderment, damp chest moving up and down, covered in pink blotches, giving his already pretty skin a breathtaking glow.  

 Your hand moves on its own, in need to feel the mess you've both created. Your let your fingers dip between your wet folds, shamelessly stroking up and down your slit, his intense gaze spurring you on as you gather some of his cum that’s already started to spill out. You revel in the fascination his eyes hold as they follow your every move carefully.  

 Your lips wrap around your index and middle fingers while holding his gaze. His tongue dips out to lick at his bottom lip as he takes in the sinful act with furrowed brows, like he's angry.

Before you can put on more of a show, his hand is on your jaw, your fingers ripped out of your mouth as his tongue replaces them, shoving into your mouth like he just needs a taste, prying your lips open without hovering for permission.  

 And then he abruptly breaks the kiss with a wet smack. Wild eyes find yours again when he mutters quietly, “Do you want all of it?”  

 You know what he's implying. You know you should refuse. You really should.

But you nod instead. 

 He doesn’t waste time. Just shuffles down, head buried between your thighs in record time, tongue eagerly licking all over your folds. You flinch when his nose nudges against your clit, mouth greedily sucking at your entrance to gather as much of his cum as he can. It feels soothing in a way, as opposed to the tingling sensation his cock left behind after the repeated stretch. You know you’ll feel sore tomorrow, but you focus on his soft lips, sighing out in relief at the lazy laps.  

 It ends before the pleasure can start building back up, and he’s hovering above you again, shielding your naked body from the cool air of the room. His mouth is just above yours, sealed tight as he awaits.  

 You cup his face in your hands to pull him closer before parting your lips for him, tongue sticking out flat. You let a moan slip when he lets your combined juices mixed with his spit dribble onto your awaiting mouth. You can only close your eyes when you briefly taste and then swallow the thick and slightly salty substance.

And then he's slotting his lips with yours again, kissing you slowly this time, tongue gliding savouringly against yours until you're out of breath and your lips feel numb.

He hesitantly pulls away with a little nip on your bottom lip, before he licks at the corner of his mouth, where some of his - or your - saliva has smeared.   

 “Well, that fucking escalated.” He says with a tired, amused sigh.

You don't even try to tone down your staring as you take in his flushed face, slightly baffled expression making you smile. 

 “In a good way?” You test, letting out an exhale of your own when he drops his weight on you carefully. He rests his head on your chest, cheek squishing just above the swell of your left boob, exactly where your heart threatens to jump out of. The softness in his actions helps your limbs relax a little.

He hums contentedly when you run a hand through his hair, combing through the fluffy strands absentmindedly.   

 “A little too good, unfortunately.” He teases, tone playful as always.  

 “Mm, sorry, I guess.” You play along, eyes closing briefly when his warm palm engulfs the breast he’s not using as a headrest. He kneads the supple flesh gently. Then just holds.

 “Maybe it’s a sign.” He says quietly, sounding like he’s in deep contemplation.  

 “That we’re both equally deranged?” You joke with a soft chuckle. 

“That too. But also, that you've been fucking the wrong people.” He states, like it’s the only explanation. 

“And fucking my best friend is so right.” Your tone is sarcastic, but it holds truth. How is this right?

He chuckles lightly, warm breath hitting your skin. “Didn't feel wrong, I'll tell you that for free.”

“Aren't you sweet.” You tug a little harder on his hair — a silent warning.

“No, seriously, though.” He traces the underside of your breast with his thumb, slightly tickling you. “There's obviously tension.”

You don't confirm or deny. “Okay, and? What's your point?”

“Maybe we should just fuck it all out.” He suggests a little too casually.

 “Isn’t that what we just did?” You keep playing with his hair, needing a distraction from the slightly confusing conversation. 

 He tilts his head up to look at you, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, brown eyes glimmering with mischief in the soft lighting of his living room, like he's unlocked something that maybe should've stayed hidden.

“I dunno,” Haechan mutters, voice sounding honey-like. “Do you feel like you’re done with me?”  

 The quickening of your heartbeat and the strange, tingly feeling that still lingers in your tummy are enough of an answer.  

After a beautiful ceremony and a fun reception, you two set off on a six-week honeymoon and a three-week staycation in your new home in Seoul. You’re not sure how your husband convinced the company to give him all this time off, but you assume his stubbornness and insistence wore them down.

Donghyuck returned from marital bliss last week and comeback preparation started promptly, beginning with studio recordings and dance practices. So, his wedding ring had never come into question, until today.

The schedule called for a photoshoot for their main concept and teaser pictures. It began like any other day- the idol had done this a million times before. Makeup and hair carried on like normal, except for the few comments Donghyuck would make about his wife.

“Can you take a picture? My wife would love this.”

“I think my wife has a blush like this.”

“This reminds me of the time my wife and I….”

The glow of a newly married man was evident in Donghyuck. But, that glow quickly turned into a spark as he started to heat up at the staff’s request.

Taking off his ring felt like a betrayal to you, especially this early in your marriage. He would look like an unmarried man and that was the last thing he wanted to be.

Donghyuck was so deep in marital bliss, he hadn’t considered the detail of taking off his ring. It makes sense of course, but the shock of the question makes him see red.

“Why do I need to take it off?” He questions the staff further.

She sighs, like the answer is obvious. It is, but not to newlywed Donghyuck. “Seeing your ring might cause some fans to become upset. We only want good press for this comeback.”

“But, the fans already know I’m married.” He responds back; his pout evident in his voice. Donghyuck is of course referring to the company notice, released days after your wedding, stating that this NCT member was in fact married and requests privacy for his family, threatening legal action if failed to be respected.

“Right, but we don’t want to risk any more upset with the fans.” The staff repeats her point from earlier.

Donghyuck is silent for a moment, thinking about how he could spin this, how he could walk out of this dressing room with his wedding ring still attached to his finger.

“Come on man, just take it off.”

Donghyuck whips his head toward his leader, and sends a glare that also serves as a warning. He holds up his left hand, ring shining in the dressing room lights. “Do you know what this signifies? No, you don’t, because you’re not married.”

Mark rolls his eyes at his member’s dramatics.

“It’s only for a few hours.” Renjun insists from the other side of the room as he’s getting styled.

It’s Donghyuck’s turn to roll his eyes as he takes off his ring, making a show to everyone that it’s off his finger, and sets it with his other belongings.

The shoot goes terribly slow in Donghyuck’s opinion. His finger itches to feel the weight of the ring on it again. He’s thinking about it’s safe place in his personal bag.

The entire interaction in the dressing room set him in a bad mood for the rest of the day. Thankfully, his members catch onto his mood and leave him be for the shoot.

He just wants to go home. He’s annoyed and pensive. He wants to fall into his wife’s arms and stay there the rest of the day.

Donghyuck even starts to spiral- will you be upset that he took off his ring? Will you question his loyalty?

He knows he’s probably being dramatic. But, he loves his ring so much; he loves that it signifies your commitment to each other. And, most of all, he loves you. He’d never want to do anything to make you question his loyalty.

The photoshoot finally finishes and the Dream members are done for the day. Everyone heads to the dressing room to shed their stylings- Donghyuck leads the group.

Everyone knows why.

He rushes to the dressing room and spots his bag, where a special piece of jewelry is held. He fishes inside the bag and opens the innermost pocket; his fingertips glide over the cool metal and he instantly relaxes. The ring immediately slips onto Donghyuck’s finger and it is then that he undresses and lets staff remove his makeup.

He bids a curt goodbye to his staff and members and heads home. Last one to arrive and first one to leave- he doesn’t care, however he can spend more time with you.

And when he finally enters the front door of his home, he’s happy he did leave work as soon as possible. Every second counts when he hears your soft hum floating through the house, when he smells dinner coming from the kitchen, when he knows his wife is waiting for him to come home.

From the entrance of the kitchen, Donghyuck can see your backside as you prepare ingredients for tonight’s dinner. You’re softly humming along to the song playing from the record player in the living room, unaware that you husband has come home.

Donghyuck can’t help but announce himself, eager to have your attention after a long day. “Hello my lovely wife.”

You turn around and giggle at your husband’s cheesiness. Nevertheless, you blush at the name wife, still getting used to the title months later.

“Welcome home husband.” You return the energy in which Donghyuck sends you a cheeky smile and walks your way.

You embrace and notice that Donghyuck is holding you tighter than normal. Reading your husband’s body language like a book, you rub his back comfortingly and wonder if he’s okay.

“Long day today?”

He nods in the crook of your neck, still holding onto you.

Moments pass and Donghyuck lifts his head to look at you.

“Guess what they did to me honey.” He pouts. You have to use every ounce of will to not giggle and coo at your husband. This is a serious matter.

“What happened?”

“They made me take off my wedding ring.” He whines and fake cries.

“They did not!” You gasp dramatically, trying to match his energy. He nods enthusiastically and then scowls, which you know is all too playful.

“It was ridiculous. I told them it was fine to keep it on.” He explains to you.

Despite the unserious moment you just shared, you can tell the mood has shifted as you detect Donghyuck’s true agitation come through.

“Why did they want you to take it off baby?” You wonder. He had been back to work for a week now and he hadn’t come home agitated until today.

“For some photoshoot. They don’t want to further upset fans. It’s so stupid. Everyone already knows we’re married. Why are they trying to hide it?” Your husband rants and you listen carefully.

It all makes sense now- why Donghyuck was so annoyed and clingy coming home today. Your heart warms at the thought of him being so reluctant to take off his wedding ring.

“What happened? Did you take it off?”

Donghyuck internally panics at your question. Would you be upset with him? Did he fail you this early into your marriage?

“Well, honey I had to, they wouldn’t let me continue with it on. Trust me, I tried to convince them how stupid this was.” He defends himself.

“Relax, Hyuck.” You rub his shoulders to soothe him, “I’m just wondering. It’s really okay. When I married you, I knew we’d have to be careful and secretive at times. I love seeing you do what you love. So, if your wedding ring has to come off sometimes. It’s okay.”

Donghyuck sends you a grateful smile and presses a firm kiss to your forehead.

“But, don’t go taking it off whenever you want now. The ring stays on outside of work hours.” You joke, tension immediately dissipating.

He gasps and tickles your sides, causing you to giggle and lean into him. “I would never, sunflower! This ring will be imprinted into my skin.” He plays back.

The thing is, you know that if Donghyuck could truly attach his ring to his skin, he probably would.

“Now step aside honey, I’ll finish dinner. Go pick another record to play.” He shoos you out of the kitchen. By the entrance, you take one last longing look at your husband and you’re thankful you have the rest of your lives together.

“so,” giselle’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, “that haechan guy is kinda cute. definitely your type.”

you already know that.

“hm…he’s alright,” you shrug, forcing a careless tone as you drag your eyeliner across your lid. too long. you wipe it with concealer. too short. you redraw it. a repetitive cycle until you finally accept that your eyeliner are sisters, not twins.

“ugh!” she flops dramatically onto her bed — the room comes with two double beds, courtesy of haechan, which she refuses to stop bringing up. “you always say that. when are you finally getting a boyfriend?”

you laugh. because she’s not the only one in your friend group waiting for that miracle to happen.

“please, i’m so tired of boys,” you say, lining your lips now, “i swear — there’s no real men nowadays. they all act like princesses.”

“girl, he might be different!” she insists, sitting up now, eyes wide. “just make the first move. i swear, with how pretty you are? he’ll be wrapped around your finger in seconds,” she continues, adorably pouting up at you.

you don’t know why your friends are so obsessed with your nonexistent love life. you barely think about it at all. at least, not as much as they seem to.

“no fucking way,” you reply, smacking your lips together as you finish with your gloss, “you know i’m old fashioned.”

“fine! whatever,” she groans.

her phone rings on the nightstand she’s occupied, finally taking her attention off of you.

instantly, her entire demeanor softens.

“hi my love,” she coos at her phone and you almost snort.

you can’t even imagine yourself talking like that. to a boy. ever.

“yeah, baby, i’m just gonna go to the club for a bit with y/n and her brother and a couple of their friends, i promise i’ll be back at the hotel before 2 a.m.”

ew. updates like that? like she’s reporting to a parent? the thought makes you scrunch your nose. could never be you.

“oki, yes, i’ll call you later taro, i love you.”

she hangs up, all dreamy-eyed and glowing, catching your gaze in the mirror. you gag dramatically, sticking your tongue out, and she laughs, throwing a pillow straight at your head.

“but seriously,” she says, propping herself up on her elbows.

“seriously what?”

“why are we even invited to this?” she gestures around the room, “we’re the only two girls here. and i’m only here because of you — he has to be at least a little interested in you to book us a room.”

you shrug, refusing to agree, even though a small part of you knows that lee haechan may also have a tiny crush on you, too.

because there was that moment.

that stupid, lingering four seconds when your eyes met for the first time. you didn’t even say hi then. there were no introductions. no words. but you felt it. crazy, as that sounds.

even crazier when you take in the fact that you only really formally met him earlier today — at the hotel lobby. when he waved at you, awkwardly, passed you your hotel room card and personally walked you and giselle up your room, which was, coincidentally, right next to his.

“jisung probably just forced him to include us,” you say, still pretending the boy had no effect on you, “and everyone knows no one can say no to my brother.”

giselle laughs, “yeah i guess…your brother is just too adorable to say no to.”

you scrunch your nose up again…because…ew. if only they knew how annoying that little shit actually is.

“we still have three hours until we need to get to the club,” you say, glancing at your watch, “wanna check out the hotel?”

giselle nods immediately, already halfway off the bed before you even finish your sentence.

the two of you wander through the hotel. pool first, then the gym, then the café where you linger a little too long pretending to consider overpriced pastries you both know you’re not buying. eventually, you make your way up to the rooftop, the view stretching out in gold and glass and city noise.

it would’ve been perfect. if it wasn’t so hot. like, offensively hot. the kind that clings to your skin and melts your makeup no matter how hard you try to salvage it.

“okay, no,” giselle groans, fanning herself with her hand. “i’m gonna pass out.”

“same,” you laugh, already turning back toward the elevator, “let’s go back.”

by the time you reach your floor, you’re both a little flushed, a little sticky, and very ready for air conditioning.

but as you walk down the hallway, something catches your attention — the door to haechan’s room is wide open.

and before you can even pretend not to notice — chenle, your personal favorite friend of your brothers’, pops out.

“hey! come in—we’re just pregaming,” he says, his kitty-like smile beaming at you, whiskers and everything. and how could you say no to that actual cutie?

the room smells faintly of alcohol and cologne, the table cluttered with half-empty bottles of vodka and mixers, some sadboi/fuckboi playlist humming through the speakers. and the boys are all sprawled out in different parts of the room.

your brother was by the window, one hand in his pocket while jaemin angles a camera at him like he’s shooting a magazine spread. jeno’s on the bed, head down, thumbs moving across his phone — probably texting that situationship jisung told you all about. renjun’s seated neatly in the corner chair, sipping from his bottle like he doesn’t belong in the chaos at all. then there’s someone new, someone you didn’t meet in the hotel lobby earlier.

and of course, lee haechan — with his back against the wall, a bottle in hand, standing coolly, chatting softly with renjun.

you’re not sure if that’s his natural habitat or if he’s putting up a front for you but you come to a conclusion quickly — you don’t really like it. he seems different from the first time you ever saw him. like he’s trying to be someone he’s not. but then again, you don’t even know who he is.

“hey, i’m mark,” the new guy says, bringing your attention back to him.

mark’s cute. his leather jacket fits him perfectly and he seems like the friendly/outgoing type which are the type of people you enjoy the most since you’re not too friendly yourself.

“i’m y/n,” you say, returning his smile, “this is my friend, giselle.”

she waves at everyone before sitting at the unoccupied bed and starting a conversation with mark. she asks him what his major is. he asks her about her job. leaving you standing there.

your brother, who has now finally realized you were in the room turns towards your voice, and you look at him.

“i can’t believe you guys started pregaming without us.”

“oops,” he shrugs, giving you a gummy smile. you notice jaemin’s camera is pointed at you now. you throw it a small peace sign with the signature duck lips — something you’ve embarrassingly conditioned yourself to do every time a camera is on you.

“here,” a voice captures your attention and your eyes are on the bottle haechan is handing you.

to be fair — he is the closest one to you, geographically speaking, so it’s only right he was handing you a bottle.

you inspect it. it’s quite literally — green.

“uhm…that look’s disgusting,” you say, a playful, totally not flirtatious, lilt in your voice.

he chuckles softly, holding the bottle out closer, “just try it, it’s not that bad.”

“how do i know if i can trust you?” you continue the playful nature, an eyebrow going up, the tiny smile on your face purposefully evident so he knows you’re kidding.

and he plays along with you. his mouth curving slowly, amused.

“guess you’ll just have to take that risk,” he smirks, still holding the bottle out to you.

you huff out a quiet laugh, finally taking the bottle from his hand and bringing it up to your lips, ignoring the fact that this was, technically — an indirect kiss.

but whatever.

you’re too old to be giggling about indirect kisses.

you’re delightfully surprised when the alcohol hits your tongue, eyes flicking back up to him immediately, and he’s already watching you. like he never looked away in the first place. waiting.

“what did you put in this?” you ask, narrowing your eyes slightly.

“can’t tell you, it’s a secret ingredient,” he teases.

“okay, mr. krabs,” you scoff, taking another sip, trying to decipher what the flavor is…until it finally clicks, “it’s lime tang, isn’t?”

he gives you a small chuckle. it’s cute.

“ahh,” he hums, clicking his tongue, “and here i thought you’d spend your whole life trying to pry the secret from me.”

you roll your eyes, and you hate the way you can feel your smile getting wider.

over a boy.

yuck.

“someone’s a little too obsessed with spongebob,” you mutter, “but i do have to give it to you haechan, this is pretty good.”

you hand the bottle back to him. but he doesn’t take it.

“keep it,” he says, gently pushing it back towards you, his hands soft, “it’s yours now.”

you hesitate for half a second, “…thanks.”

your fingers tighten around the bottle and for a moment, the two of you just — look at each other. and there it is again. that same pull from the four second eye contact when you first saw him at your brother’s university.

eventually, you have to force yourself to look away because his gaze is too much. and you don’t like it. too aware of all the people around you. too aware of the fact that your brother was just right there.

so you turn, slipping away before it lingers enough for the others to notice, dropping down beside giselle on the bed. she’s mid conversation with mark, chenle and renjun who joined at some point, you didn’t even notice.

and you fall into it easily. laughing. talking. blending in like you always do.

🏹

when everyone was dressed up and ready, you all met at the lobby once again. you kept it simple, not wanting to make it look like you were trying to impress someone — just a black fitted mid top with low rise jeans, black kitten heels and your cherry red mini handbag.

“who’s riding with who?” you ask, already pulling your phone out, thumb hovering over the grab app.

you glance around casually. but not really. because a small, traitorous part of you is waiting. for him. just one sentence. one “i’ll go with you.” that’s all it would take.

but the moment stretches…then passes.

most of them still feel like strangers. after all, besides chenle, you met the rest of them today. and there’s still that awkward hesitation in the air, like no one wants to assume, no one wants to overstep.

“i’ll go with you guys,” mark says after a beat.

“same,” chenle adds, already standing beside giselle.

renjun just nods, quiet but certain, like it was never even a question. and just like that, it’s decided.

you, giselle, mark, chenle, and renjun pile into one car.

jisung, jeno, jaemin, and haechan in another.

the ride is loud, easy, comfortable in a way that surprises you. mark keeps the conversation going effortlessly, chenle’s half-laughing at everything, and renjun, quiet at first, eventually warms up, adding little comments that make you laugh more than you expect.

it’s nice. more than nice. and for a moment, you forget about the other car entirely.

🏹

the club is already alive when you get there. lights flashing, bass heavy enough to feel in your chest, the air thick with heat and perfume and something electric that makes your pulse pick up.

you spot your friends almost immediately — karina waving you over, ningning already mid-story about something ridiculous, jungwoo grinning as he pulls you into a quick side hug.

introductions blur into laughter, and somehow, seamlessly, everyone just…fits.

the music is good. really good. the kind that makes it impossible to stand still. one song bleeds into the next, and before you know it, you’re dancing, singing, losing yourself in the rhythm as drinks keep appearing in your hand like magic. shot after shot. picture after picture. arms slung over shoulders, phones flashing, memories being made faster than you can process them.

at some point, you notice the boys drifting. one by one, here and there — disappearing into the crowd, probably pulled away by girls who couldn’t help but notice them. you don’t blame them. your group easily has the most attractive men in the entire place tonight. it would be weirder if they weren’t getting attention.

mark and renjun chooses to stay though. and somewhere between your fourth — or fifth? —shot, you realize they’ve quietly become your favorites.

especially when you belong with me starts playing.

“oh my god,” you gasp, grabbing renjun’s arm. his eyes light up instantly. and then the two of you are screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs, perfectly on-key, you think?, completely unbothered, jumping in place like it’s a private concert instead of a packed club.

mark’s laughing beside you, shaking his head but joining in anyway, and it’s just — fun. pure, uncomplicated fun.

but just as promised, giselle left the bar around 1:40am, whispering in your ear, “i’m gonna go…have fun babe,” she says, kissing your cheek.

you hold her hand, not letting her get away so easily.

“i’ll go with you,” you say immediately, steady, no hesitation, “i’m not letting you go alone.”

she pauses, then turns back to you with that same bright, tipsy grin, eyes soft, a little glassy.

“y/n,” she laughs quietly, “you’re having so much fun.”

you don’t loosen your grip, “giselle—”

“stay,” she insists gently, squeezing your hand now instead. “see what the night holds.”

you narrow your eyes at her, “i’m not letting you commute by yourself,” you say, firmer this time, “especially like this.”

“i’m fineeee,” she drags out, giggling under her breath. then she leans in again, dropping her voice like she’s about to share a secret, “taro’s already outside…he brought his motorcycle.”

she wiggles her eyebrows, “we’re gonna put that hotel bed to use.”

you snort, the concern breaking just enough for amusement to slip through, “oh my god.”

“what?” she beams, completely unashamed.

you shake your head, still smiling despite yourself, “fine,” you sigh, tightening your hold on her hand as you start guiding her toward the exit anyway, “i’m at least walking you out.”

“god,” she mutters, leaning her head briefly against your shoulder as you both weave through the crowd, “you’d be such a good girlfriend…”

you side eye her.

“…so caring,” she adds softly.

you can’t help but laugh as the two of you make your way down the stairs, out of the heavy bass and flashing lights, and into the thick, warm night air. it hits you immediately — humid, a little quieter, the distant echo of music still thumping behind you.

shotaro’s already there, waiting by his bike, helmet in hand, posture relaxed but eyes instantly lighting up the moment he sees her.

you feel giselle’s grip tighten just slightly in yours before she lets go, drifting toward him like it’s second nature.

“be careful, shotaro,” you say, passing her over with a pointed look.

“of course,” he nods easily, smiling as he gently steadies her, carefully putting on her customized helmet. he is really good to her. and you can’t be happier for your friend.

she watches him the whole time — soft, fond, completely gone. and you notice. of course you do. you’re the one who always notices.

and yeah, maybe, sometimes, very, very rarely, usually only when the clock hits 2am — you wonder what that would feel like. to let someone look at you like that. take care of you like that. instead of always being the one who does it for everyone else.

“and please,” you smile teasingly, “don’t do it on the left bed, that one’s mine.”

giselle bursts into laughter, “no promises,” and then they were riding off, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle, their laughter’s ringing in the air.

gross.

but there’s no real bite to it. just a small smile lingering as you turn back toward the club.

it’s past 2:00am now, which only means — the party’s just getting started.

you thank the heavens that karina, ningning and jungwoo showed up tonight. because without them? you’d probably be standing awkwardly in a corner somewhere, pretending to enjoy your drink while wondering how the hell you ended up in a club full of your brother’s friends.

instead, you’re grounded. comfortable. exactly where you’re supposed to be.

renjun’s basically been absorbed into your circle somewhere between screaming song lyrics with you and laughing at absolutely nothing. mark stuck around too, easygoing as ever, but you can tell that he had developed a tiny crush on ningning.

the party continues, more shots, more laughter more of everything. you catch glimpses of your brother once and immediately wish you hadn’t. because he’s very clearly lip-locked with some random girl in the middle of a chanting crowd.

“oh my god,” you mutter, turning away instantly, “i don’t have a brother.”

karina cackles beside you, “too late for that.”

“no, i’m disowning him,” you insist, already grabbing another shot to erase the image from your brain.

the music keeps going — song after song, each one louder than the last, lights flashing in colors that start to blur together the longer you stay. time slips. fast.

and then suddenly — it’s 3:00am.

“fuck,” renjun groans, checking his phone, his whole expression dropping. “i need to go. i’m way past my curfew.”

you blink at him, the words taking a second to fully land. right. they’re still in university. some of them still live at home.

“can you get home okay?” you ask, leaning a little closer so he can hear you over the music.

“i’ll get him a grab,” mark cuts in easily, already pulling out his phone. you nod, trusting him without a second thought. maybe you’d be more concerned if you were sober.

but right now? your head is light, your body warm, the world just a little softer around the edges.

they disappear into the crowd and you don’t even try to keep track of how long mark’s gone for. because the second baby by justin bieber comes on, everything else fades.

“OH MY GOD—” ningning screams.

you don’t even think, already grabbing karina and jungwoo, the four of you forming a mini circle as you all shout the lyrics at the top of your lungs like it’s 2010 and this is the only song that exists. jumping. laughing. completely losing it.

by the time the clock hits 4:00am, the energy shifts.

it’s still loud, still bright, but softer now. heavier. like the night is finally starting to catch up with everyone. most of the boys have made their way back, sitting on the couch like gravity is pulling them in.

jeno’s the first one you noticed. he’s hunched forward, looking like he’s in distress, thumbs rapidly pressing buttons on his phone. you make eye contact with him, flashing him a thumbs up, a small way of asking if he was okay. he just nods solemnly. definitely not okay.

jaemin, slouched beside him, catches the exchange and grins lazily, mouthing, “girl problems.”

you let out a quiet “ahh,” nodding like that explains everything. good enough for you.

and right next to him — lee haechan. with his flushed cheeks and lightly damp hair. he looks like sin. pulling you in without trying.

so pretty. so tempting. everything your brother’s friend shouldn’t be.

and like he can feel you looking, his eyes meet yours. a slow smile tugs at his lips. it’s soft. but it does something to your chest that you don’t like. you’re about to return it when—

“y/n, we’re leavinggg,” ningning’s voice cuts in, hands already on your shoulders as she turns you towards her, “we’ve still got work in a couple of hours,” she groans.

“thank’s for coming,” you laugh softly, pulling her into a hug, “and not letting me dance alone,” you murmur in her ear. she hugs you just as tightly.

“message us when you’re back at the hotel, okay?”

you nod, already moving on to karina and pulling her in a hug as well.

then jungwoo, “you gonna be okay? you’re the only girl left,” he says with concerned eyes.

“i’ll be okay,” you assure him, “jisung’s around here somewhere.”

“please,” he scoffs immediately, “that big baby can barely protect you.”

you laugh, softly hitting him on the chest in a small act of protecting your brother. even though jungwoo was absolutely correct.

“she’ll be okay,” a voice behind you says. low. easy. and your heart speeds up without your permission, “we’ll take care of her.”

you turn, already knowing who it is.

“yup, look — four strong men all right here to protect me,” you say gesturing toward the four men not equipped at all to protect a woman at the moment.

jeno is still too busy typing on his phone, sighing every two seconds. jaemin is fully slumped now, head tipped back, mouth half open, completely passed out. haechan just looks like pure trouble. and mark was sitting at the end of the couch, rubbing his temples.

you take note of the open space right between mark and haechan. like it was reserved with your name on it. like he wanted you to sit there.

jungwoo sighs in disappointment as you laugh, turning to face him again, “i’ll be okay. you know me.”

he nods because he does know you. knows the fact that you never get drunk enough to lose your sophistication. and with that, they leave you to it. alone. with that empty space on the couch. you finally give in. settling right between the two boys.

mark’s shoulder brushes yours immediately, his head lolling lazily from one side to the other, eyes half-lidded, clearly losing his battle with alcohol. every few seconds he lets out a quiet sigh, like he’s drifting in and out of consciousness.

you glance at him first, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“you still doing okay?” haechan’s voice is low.

you turn and your breath catches for half a second. he’s right there. closer than you expect. closer than he has any reason to be. close enough that when you turn, your nose brushes lightly against his cheek. it’s quick. barely there. but it’s enough.

you pull back just as fast, leaning into the couch like it didn’t happen, like you didn’t feel that tiny spark shoot straight down your spine.

“yeah,” you say, clearing your throat just slightly. “this is nothing. we barely drank.”

he lifts an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, “okay…miss party girl.”

you laugh, nudging his knee with yours, “i don’t party that much.”

he huffs out a quiet chuckle, leaning back into the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest behind you — not touching, but close enough that you’re aware of it.

“where’s your brother?” he asks.

you tilt your head, giving him a look, “you’re asking me? you were the one with him the whole night.”

“fair,” he admits, smiling a little.

you shrug, glancing out at the crowd, “last time i saw him, he was making out with someone.”

his brows lift, “and you didn’t step in?”

you let out a soft snort, “why would i step in?”

“you’re his older sister,” he says, like it should mean something.

and for a second — you can’t tell if he’s reminding you…or himself.

you roll your eyes, a small laugh slipping out, “please. he’s twenty-two,” you say, shaking your head, “he doesn’t need me stepping in.”

you glance back at him, a teasing smile pulling at your lips, “what about you?” you ask. “you disappeared a lot tonight…busy?”

he lets out a quiet breath through his nose, like he already knows where you’re going with this.

“busy playing your brother’s matchmaker,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “that’s for sure.”

you hum, unconvinced, “i’m sure it was very mutual,” you tease.

“nah,” he shrugs, almost too casually. “didn’t really see anyone i liked.”

you blink at him, then laugh lightly, nudging his knee again, “really? a whole club full of hot women and not a single one caught your attention?”

“guess not.”

there’s something off about how easily he says it. you tilt your head, studying him a little closer now.

“your standards that high?”

he doesn’t answer right away. just looks at you. steady. unrushed. like he’s not even trying to hide it.

“we can’t always have what we want,” he says quietly but you’re so focused on him, you hear it loud and clear, even when the first beat of just like heaven fills up the room.

you feel it again. that pull. that quiet, dangerous tension that keeps threading itself between every interaction you have with him, tightening each time like it’s building toward something you’re not ready to name.

and for a second, you don’t know what to say. don’t know if you should say anything.

but before the moment can stretch any further, a sudden weight drops against your shoulder. you jolt, blinking as you look down.

mark.

completely out. head resting heavily against you, breathing slow and even like he passed out mid-thought. you let out a small laugh, glancing back at haechan.

“your friend fell asleep on my shoulder,” you point out, amused.

haechan leans forward slightly, looking past you at mark, then huffs out a quiet laugh, “yeah…he’s gone.”

you shift a little, adjusting so mark doesn’t slide off, instinctively steadying him even as you try not to laugh too loud.

“great,” you mumble. “now i’m stuck.”

“mhm,” haechan hums, leaning back again, eyes still on you, “looks like it.”

and somehow, even with mark half-asleep on you, it still feels like you’re the only two people on that couch.

🏹

you try to stay upright. you really do. but your body’s slowly giving up on you, shoulders heavy, head dipping every few seconds no matter how many times you blink or straighten yourself out.

your head tilts forward slightly. you catch it. straighten. then it happens again, slower this time, your balance slipping just enough that it’s obvious you’re losing the fight.

haechan notices. of course he does. he’s been watching you longer than he should admit. the way your movements get softer, slower. the way your eyes take a second longer to focus. the way your head keeps dipping like you’re trying to convince your body to stay awake when it’s already decided otherwise.

so when it happens again, when your head tips just a little too far to the side — he moves. one hand comes up, gentle but sure, stopping you before you can awkwardly jolt yourself back upright. his fingers brush lightly against your temple as he guides you, not forcing, not rushing, just enough. until your head comes to rest against his shoulder. steady. comfortable. like it was meant to be there. he adjusts slightly after, shifting his posture so you don’t have to hold yourself up anymore, his shoulder dipping just enough to support you properly. and you’re too tired to protest.

from an outside perspective you can almost imagine how ridiculous this group looks. a full row of half-dead bodies on a couch. mark passed out on one side, jaemin completely knocked out on the other, jeno still stress-texting like his life depends on it, and you — resting on haechan like the final piece of a sleeping train.

“tired?” he murmurs softly.

“no,” you whisper. it such an obvious lie, it almost makes you smile.

he chuckles under his breath, “wanna go back to the hotel?”

you nod your head no against his shoulder, the movement slow and lazy, “don’t wanna ruin jisung’s fun.”

honestly, you have no idea where your brother even is anymore. somewhere out there. still partying like the night isn’t already over.

“okay,” haechan says.

just like that. no pushing. no teasing. just…okay. his voice is quieter now, like he’s matching your pace without making a big deal out of it.

a few seconds pass. then, “you’re gonna fall asleep on me,” he adds, softer this time, almost amused.

you hum faintly, eyes slipping open for a second, “i’m not asleep,” you mumble.

he lets out another quiet laugh, “sure.”

after a while, he was getting pretty over it too. it was nearing 5:00am and jisung and chenle were still nowhere to be found.

haechan takes one last glance at you, your breathing has evened out now and he’s pretty sure you’ve fallen into a light slumber. he moves carefully, afraid to wake you.

“jeno,” he calls out to his friend, whispering, which is pretty ironic since the rest of the club is still loud.

your ears pick up on it immediately even if your eyes refuses to open.

“can you find jisung and chenle?” haechan says, softer than you’ve ever heard him all night, “we should head back soon.”

“yeah,” jeno mutters, pushing himself up from the couch, still sounding half-annoyed, half-exhausted. “i’ll look for them.”

you feel the couch move under his weight. and for a second — it’s just the two of you again. you’re still resting against him, eyes slightly open now, too tired to pretend you’re not listening anymore. too tired to move away.

“go back to sleep,” haechan murmurs, quieter this time, “i’ll wake you up when they’re here.”

you let out a small breath, barely audible, “mmm.”

his hand shifts again, briefly brushing against your arm like he’s checking if you’re okay. if you’re comfortable. and you are. too comfortable. dangerously so.

a few minutes pass before you hear familiar voices again — jisung’s loud, unmistakable laugh cutting through everything as he stumbles back over with chenle not far behind.

“yo…why do you all look dead?” jisung says, breathless, still riding whatever high he’s on.

the sound of your brother’s voice finally snaps you back to reality and you slowly remove yourself from haechan’s shoulder.

“we’re heading back,” haechan tells them simply. no explanation. no teasing. and for some reason, they listen.

you reach for your bag and pause. it’s not there. your eyes shift to the side. haechan already has it slung over his shoulder like it’s been there all night. you don’t say anything. you just…notice.

🏹

by the time you step out of the club, it’s exactly 5:15am the sky is pale blue now, the sun slowly rising like it’s stretching awake with the rest of you.

the air feels different. cooler. cleaner. quieter in a way the city never really is.

and somehow, that short slumber on the couch did wonders. your head’s clearer now, your steps steadier, your body no longer fighting to stay upright.

you’re already pulling your phone out, opening grab, thumb hovering over the screen when—

“i’m hungry,” your brother says, of course.

you look up at him, unimpressed, “you’re always hungry.”

“there’s a burger place like seven minutes away,” chenle adds, walking backward with way too much energy for someone who’s been up all night. “we can just walk.”

you hesitate. just for a second. you were about to book a ride. go back. end the night.

but then — you feel it. that look.

you turn slightly. haechan’s already looking at you. quiet. waiting. like the answer somehow sits with you.

you exhale softly, shoulders lifting in a casual shrug, “i could eat.”

and just like that — plans change.

the walk is slow, the streets are calmer than usual, nearly empty, filled with other late party-goers looking for food or getting ready to go home.

you end up beside haechan without thinking. step for step. you don’t mention the bag still hanging off his shoulder. don’t mention the way he subtly switches sides so you’re on the inner part of the sidewalk, closer to the buildings, away from the road. like it’s instinct.

jaemin and mark are a few steps ahead, quiet for once, walking a little too straight, a little too focused. like if they concentrate hard enough, no one will notice how drunk they still are.

far ahead, jisung, jeno, and chenle are louder. their voices echoing through the quiet street as they argue like it’s broad daylight.

“i’m telling you…just block her,” chenle says.

“i can’t just block her,” jeno groans.

“why not? peace of mind,” jisung adds like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“because i like her,” jeno shoots back, frustration clear even from a distance.

“i don’t know man—you can like someone that doesn’t make you feel like shit,” jisung says, way too confidently you almost roll your eyes.

for someone who’s never been in a serious relationship he sure does speak like he knows it all.

“yeah, exactly!,” chenle adds. those two always hyping each other up.

you laugh softly under your breath, shaking your head.

“they’re giving terrible advice,” you mumble.

“yeah,” haechan hums beside you, hands tucked into his pockets, “but it’s fine — jeno’s not gonna listen anyway.”

you glance at him “you think so?”

he nods once, eyes forward, voice calm in a way that feels a little too certain.

“people forget all logic when love comes to play.”

you let out a small laugh, nudging his arm lightly, “okay, shakespeare found in a ditch.”

his lips twitch, shaking his head a little like he’s trying to hide how easy it is for you to make him smile.

🏹

by the time you reach the burger joint — your brother is already seated. burger halfway unwrapped, bite already taken, like it never even crossed his mind to wait for you. you don’t comment on it.

you just shake your head lightly, stepping inside and glancing around and realize it’s just you, mark, and haechan left standing.

mark stretches beside you, running a hand through his hair like he’s still trying to wake himself up, eyes scanning the menu lazily.

and haechan — he’s still next to you. close. like he’s been the entire walk. and maybe he notices the way your shoulders drop just slightly, the quiet acceptance of your brother being…well, your brother. because when you look at him, he’s already smiling at you.

“what do you want?” he asks, glancing down at you.

you blink, a little caught off guard, “uh — no, it’s okay,” you say quickly, shaking your head, offering him a small smile, “i’ll just order after you.”

something about it — the idea of someone just casually buying you something — makes you feel a little…awkward. flustered.

he notices that too. of course he does. and it makes his smile widen just a little.

“c’mon,” he nudges your arm lightly with his elbow, “my treat.”

you narrow your eyes at him, half amused.

“how rich are you?”

he scoffs, a brow lifting, “it’s a burger.”

you huff out a small laugh, crossing your arms loosely.

“you already paid for the hotel rooms,” you remind him, like he might’ve conveniently forgotten, “if anything, i should be treating you.”

he laughs at that, easy and unbothered.

“those were from my parents’ saved-up credit card points,” he says casually, “don’t worry about it.”

then he tilts his head slightly, looking at you again.

“so you either tell me what you want,” he adds, voice light but firm, “or i’m ordering the entire menu.”

you blink. once. twice…you’re not entirely sure he’s joking. and honestly? you don’t feel like finding out.

you sigh, giving in just a little, “…just fries,” you mumble.

his grin widens instantly, “just fries?”

you hesitate for half a second, “…and maybe a sundae,” you add, a little quieter this time.

there’s something about the way he looks at you then — like he’s enjoying this way too much.

“with chocolate syrup?” he asks, like he already knows the answer.

you glance up at him, lips pressing together to hide your smile.

“…with chocolate syrup.”

🏹

you find a table for the three of you after that, sliding into your seat with a quiet exhale, finally giving your legs a break.

jisung’s already on his second burger. of course he is. you don’t even bother commenting anymore, just shake your head faintly as you settle in.

a few minutes later, haechan comes back with the tray.

he sets everything down in front of you first — fries, sundae, and a bottle of water you didn’t ask for. but immediately appreciate. you glance up at him, just for a second.

“…thanks,” you murmur.

he just hums, like it’s nothing. like it didn’t matter. like he didn’t think twice about it.

he drops into the seat right in front of you. and you’re glad. because it gives you a perfect view of him.

his hair a little messy from the night, curling at the edge, cheeks slightly flushed, lips a little swollen from too many drinks and he’s so just so — pretty. annoyingly pretty.

and suddenly you’re aware of yourself. of how you probably look right now after hours of dancing, sweating, laughing, barely fixing your makeup. not…put together. not the version of you you’re used to presenting. you resist the urge to check your reflection on your phone. force yourself not to care.

instead, you just reach for your fries, acting like nothing’s changed. like you didn’t just become hyperaware of everything.

you grabbed the ketchup packet, biting the corner off and out of pure habit — you drag a perfect line of red across a single fry. precise. neat.

haechan watches you do it. and then he looks at you like you’ve just disobeyed all the laws of the universe.

“who the fuck eats their fries like that?”

“hey!,” you say defensively, “don’t knock it before you try it.”

he lets out a short laugh, shaking his head.

“you psycho,” he says, leaning back slightly, “it’s literally easier to just put the ketchup on the napkin and dip your fry like a normal person.”

“it doesn’t taste as good!” you argue, already preparing another one.

he raises a brow, unconvinced.

“i swear,” you insist, glancing up at him. “it doesn’t.”

and before you even realize what you’re doing — you’re holding it out to him. right in front of his lips. a perfectly ketchup-lined fry.

there’s a split second where you register it. where you could pull back. laugh it off. but you don’t.

and he doesn’t hesitate. he leans in just enough, his pretty lips wrapping around the fry as he takes it from your fingers — eyes still on you the entire time.

it’s not as innocent as it should be. your breath catches, just slightly.

and then mark drops into the seat beside him.

you retract your hand immediately, reminded of company.

“see?” you say quickly, grabbing another fry to distract yourself. “tastes better, doesn’t it?”

“it tastes like a fry,” he says, completely unimpressed, but his eyes are sparkling with mischief. like he’s enjoying this more than he’s letting on.

you can’t help the grin that slips through.

“whatever.”

🏹

it’s calm now. quiet. no pounding bass. no flashing lights. just early morning chatter, wrappers crinkling, the soft hum of the city waking up. conversation comes easy. you laugh over small moments, replaying bits of the night like it didn’t just happen. and then, you look at mark. tilting your head slightly, a knowing smile creeping in.

“so, mark…” you start casually, grabbing a fry, “you and ningning were dancing all night.”

you let it sit there for a second. just enough for him to realize you noticed.

“oh…yeah,” mark shrugs, like it’s nothing, unwrapping his burger. “she’s cool.”

you narrow your eyes at him slightly. she’s cool? that’s it? you glance at haechan for half a second, like you need a witness to how underwhelming that response was, before looking back at mark.

“just cool?” you press, a teasing edge in your voice, “you were glued to her the whole night.”

mark huffs out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “okay, okay…she’s more than cool,” he admits, a little sheepish now, “she’s…fun. it’d be nice to see her again.”

you hum, satisfied. and if you’re being honest? you’re pretty sure ningning liked him too. and that doesn’t happen easily. it’s hard for any man to keep her attention.

you lean forward slightly, resting your chin on your hand, “are you single, mark?”

it comes out casual. but not really. mark blinks at you mid-bite, clearly caught off guard.

“uh, yeah,” he nods. “yeah, i am.”

you nod slowly, like you’re filing that information away, “good to know.”

he squints at you, “…why?”

“nothinggg,” you say simply, popping a fry into your mouth.

haechan lets out a quiet laugh across from you, watching the whole thing unfold and you can’t help but match his smile.

“what’s your type?” you ask, shifting gears smoothly.

mark thinks for a second, chewing slowly, “i don’t know…someone easy to talk to,” he says. “not…too complicated.”

you nod, accepting it, for now. then your eyes flick to haechan.

“…what about you?”

it’s casual. too casual. like you didn’t just ask that on purpose. he pauses for half a second. then he leans in slightly, one arm resting on the table, gaze steady at you.

“someone who can be my best friend,” he says. simple. but it hits harder than it should. you don’t know why. so you look away first, reaching for your sundae like it suddenly needs your full attention.

“and you?” mark asks, turning it back on you.

you pause mid-scoop, spoon hovering for a second before you shrug lightly.

“i don’t know…someone who actually knows how to act like a man,” you say, half joking, “not someone i have to babysit.”

“easy enough,” haechan murmurs.

you glance up at him, one brow lifting, a quiet challenge in your eyes.

“yet impossible to find,” you add.

mark laughs at that. and then — there’s a brief moment. a quiet look shared between the two of them. quick. subtle. but you catch it. and immediately pretend you didn’t.

suddenly, you’re regretting bringing this topic up.

“what about your type…physically?” mark asks, amused now.

you hum, thinking about it for a second.

“don’t have one.”

“oh well now that’s just bullshit,” haechan says, not missing a beat.

you kick his foot lightly under the table, a laugh spilling out from your lips before you can stop it.

“swear,” you insist, shaking your head, “none of my exes even look alike.”

“there has to be something,” mark presses.

“well…” you trail off, tapping your spoon against the cup, “i guess they’re all conventionally attractive,” you shrug.

“how about you guys?” you ask, wanting to rid the attention off you.

mark opens his mouth but haechan beats him to it. you glance at him and immediately catching the smirk sitting on his lips. yeah. he’s about to be annoying.

“someone conventionally attractive,” he says, taking a slow sip of his cola like he didn’t just throw your cop out answer right back at you.

you roll your eyes instantly but before you could reply, your brother’s voice interrupts. you look over, and sure enough — him, chenle, jeno, and jaemin are already standing, throwing their trash away like they didn’t just eat half the menu.

“we’ll see you guys back at the hotel,” he adds casually.

that’s it. no are you coming? no you good? no second thought about leaving you behind with two men you’ve technically only known for a day. you’re over it at this point. waving him off without a word.

🏹

you reach for your bag and pull out your compact mirror, flipping it open with a small click. you had a feeling the three of you would be leaving soon anyway. might as well check. you glance at your reflection — and freeze.

“…oh my god,” your head snaps up.

haechan’s already looking at you, amused.

“what?”

you turn the mirror toward him like evidence.

“i have no more lipstick,” you say, scandalized. “and none of you told me?” you look between him and mark like they’ve committed a serious offense.

mark lets out a tired laugh.

haechan just smirks, “we’re supposed to tell you that?” he asks.

“yes. that’s what friends do,” you reply instantly, no hesitation.

you’re already digging through your bag, pulling out your lip liner and lipstick like it’s muscle memory. you lean slightly toward the mirror, fixing it. precise. practiced.

you notice the way he’s watching you. the way his gaze drops — lingers. follows the movement of your hand as the liner traces your lips, steady and smooth. but you don’t comment on it.

and haechan — he can’t help but stare at the way your lips part just slightly as you fill them in. careful. focused. it’s such a small thing. mundane. but for some reason, he’s captivated.

he shifts slightly in his seat, glancing at mark for a second like he’s checking if he’s the only one noticing this. mark doesn’t look nearly as entertained, just tired, almost bored, half-focused on his food, completely unbothered. not like him who’s eyes are now drifting back to your lips. his thoughts drifting somewhere he probably shouldn’t let them go. like how your lips probably taste as sweet as the vanilla sundae with a hint of salt from the fries. a combo he doesn’t mind trying.

you snap your compact shut with a soft click. and he’s reminded of who you are.

“there,” you say, tucking everything back into your bag, “much better.”

haechan leans back slightly, dragging his eyes away like it didn’t just take effort.

🏹

it doesn’t take long before the three of you are up too. you pull your phone out, opening the grab app.

“i’ll book it,” you say.

“okay,” mark nods sleepily while haechan just hums beside you.

the car pulls up not long after. you slide in first, then haechan in the middle then mark. his thigh brushes yours immediately. and it stays there.

there’s enough space to move away but neither of you does. instead, you stare out the window, pretending not to notice.

the ride feels longer than it should.

you don’t know if the driver took a wrong turn, or if it’s the traffic slowly building. but you don’t mind. not really. the city outside is alive now, soft light spilling over buildings.

and inside the car — it’s quiet. almost too comfortable. so you enjoy it. letting the ride take just a little longer.

but the longer actually gets ridiculous. almost concerning.

haechan leans over to whisper in your ear, “you’re not kidnapping us are you?” his breath causing goosebumps to rise on your neck.

“little ol’ me?” you say in mock offense.

he hums, glancing between you and the driver like he’s genuinely weighing his options, “i don’t know,” he says, lips twitching. “you did book the ride.”

you scoff softly, crossing your arms.

“i’m the one stuck in a car with three men i barely know,” you point out, tilting your head at him. “i think if anyone should be scared, it’s me.”

he lets out a quiet laugh. but it fades quicker than expected. because he’s been aware of it the whole night and for a second, something shifts in his expression, subtle, but there.

truth is, he doesn’t get it. doesn’t get how jisung could just leave you like that, not even thinking twice. he can’t even imagine doing that to his own sister. his jaw tightens just slightly before he looks back at you.

“are you scared?” he asks softly. no teasing. no smirk. just…genuine. his eyes search yours like he actually wants to know.

you meet his gaze, surprised by the change in tone but you don’t hesitate — you smile. small. real.

“no,” you say honestly. and maybe it sounds a little crazy. but you mean it. you feel safe around him.

he holds your gaze for a second longer, like he’s searching for the truth in your eyes.

“good,” he says, a faint smile returning.

🏹

a few minutes later, the car finally slows, pulling up to the hotel entrance just as the morning light fully settles over the city.

it’s close to 7:00am now. the sky’s no longer soft and dim. it’s bright enough to feel real, like the night has officially ended whether you’re ready for it or not.

you sit up properly, blinking once as you glance over. mark’s still out cold. completely gone.

“bro,” haechan nudges him lightly, then a little harder. “we’re here.”

nothing. not even a twitch. you sigh, already pushing your door open and stepping out, even though the entrance is technically on mark’s side.

haechan follows after you, a sheepish smile on his face like he already knows what’s coming. you both circle around the car.

and yeah — this is gonna be a problem.

“fuck,” you groan immediately when mark’s arm lands around your shoulder, your heels digging into the pavement as his full weight leans into you. “your friend is heavy.”

haechan lets out a breath on the other side, adjusting his grip.

“why’d you let him drink this much?” he shoots back.

you snap your head toward him, “me?” you groan. “you’re the one who left him with us.”

“yeah, well,” he huffs, trying to hoist mark up properly, “i didn’t expect you guys to be alcohol immune.”

you let out a laugh despite yourself, “don’t make me laugh,” you warn, struggling to keep mark upright. “or your friend is going down.”

haechan laughs too — quiet at first, then slipping out a little more.

“i’m serious—” you choke out between laughs, tightening your grip.

“okay, okay—sorry,” he says, still smiling, though he’s barely helping by laughing himself.

the two of you wobble forward, barely coordinated, mark completely dead weight between you.

it’s ridiculous. but fun.

finally, the hotel’s doorman sees your struggle. thank god. and immediately got a wheelchair ready.

“here ma’am, sir, let me assist—”

“please,” you breathe out, immediately letting some of mark’s weight shift off you as he’s carefully guided into the chair.

you straighten up instantly, flexing your hands, rolling your shoulders, “took him long enough,” you mumble under your breath.

haechan lets out a quiet laugh beside you.

“you good?” he asks, glancing at you.

“i think that’s the most workout i’ve done this year,” you mutter. he snorts softly.

🏹

the elevator hums softly as it starts to rise. haechan’s behind the wheelchair, one hand resting on the handle, the other loosely by his side. you’re standing next to mark, who is still completely out, head tilted to the side like he’s given up on consciousness altogether.

you glance at him. then at haechan. then back at mark. and you can’t help it — a laugh slips out.

“this is so embarrassing,” you mumble, already reaching into your back pocket.

“what are you doing?” haechan asks, though there’s already a hint of amusement in his voice.

you pull your phone out, turning the camera on.

“this is too good not to remember,” you say, stepping in slightly.

you angle the phone just right with mark slumped in the middle, you leaning in beside him, barely holding in your laughter.

and haechan doesn’t hesitate. he leans in too. closer than necessary. just enough that his shoulder brushes yours.

the picture snaps. you glance at it and immediately grin.

“send that to me,” he says, looking down at your screen.

you glance up at him, trying to act nonchalant, “sure.”

but internally — you hate it. because now you’re the one who has to follow first.

you unlock your phone anyway, opening instagram like you don’t already know exactly what you’re about to search.

“what’s your instagram?” you ask casually.

like you’ve never stalked him on the internet before.

he tells you. you type it in. and yeah— it’s exactly how it looks the last time you were on his profile.

you send the picture quickly then hit follow before you can overthink it.

he’s already pulling his phone out, thumbs moving fast.

“followed back,” he says a second later.

your lips press together, trying to hide the small smile threatening to show.

“good.”

🏹

the elevator dings. doors sliding open. you step aside, letting him go first, one hand holding the door as he carefully wheels your shared patient of the night out.

you follow them down the hall, quieter now, the hotel almost completely still.

and you step into their room with him, not even thinking twice about it — just making sure everything’s okay.

“okay…one more time,” haechan mutters, already moving to lift his friend. you step in without being asked, slipping under mark’s arm again.

“god, how did he get even heavier,” you mumble.

you both manage to get mark onto the bed with a soft thud, his body sinking into the mattress like he belongs there.

you straighten up, brushing your hands off, exhaling.

“there,” you say, “mission accomplished.”

“thanks partner,” haechan teases, a small smile on his face.

you shrug it off like it’s nothing, “yeah, no problem.”

then you turn slightly, already about to head for the door—

“hey.”

you look back. he’s still standing there, watching you.

“you still tired?”

you pause. pretend to think about it for a second even though you already know your answer as soon as he asked. then shake your head lightly.

“not really.”

his lips curve, “wanna have a beer?”

“…where exactly are you planning on getting a beer at 7 am?”

he doesn’t answer. just walks past you and straight to the mini fridge. you watch as he crouches down, opens it, and pulls out two bottles, opening them and holding one out to you.

you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. but you take it from his hand anyway, fingers brushing his briefly.

then, instead of taking the obvious seat — you walk over to his side of the room. slipping down to the floor, back resting lightly against the side of his bed, right in front of the window.

it’s partially hidden, tucked behind the frame of the bed. private. quiet.

in truth — you hate the taste of beer. you just didn’t want the night to end.

he watches you for a second — then lets out a soft laugh.

“you know you can sit on my bed, right?”

you glance up at him, immediately scrunching your nose, “ew. what do you think i am? a monster?”

he pauses, “…huh?”

“i’m not sitting on your bed with these dirty clothes on,” you say, gesturing to yourself. “that’s disgusting.”

he laughs, shaking his head as he walks over, lowering himself down beside you anyway, back against the bed, shoulder just barely brushing yours.

“you’re weird,” he mutters.

“and yet you’re sitting next to me.”

“unfortunately.”

you grin into the rim of your drink.

and for a while — it’s quiet. no music. no chaos. just the two of you, side by side on the floor, bottles in hand. watching the city wake up through the window. cars moving. people beginning their day. the sky fully bright now. and neither of you rushes to say anything.

you just…sit there. together.

🏹

“so,” he finally breaks it, voice low, easy, “your brother…”

“hm?” you hum, not looking at him, eyes still on the window.

“you two close?”

you turn your head slightly, brow lifting.

“why?” you ask, a hint of amusement already creeping in. “you got a crush on him or what?”

he chokes. actually chokes.

“wh—what??”

you turn fully now, fighting your smile.

“do you have a crush on my brother?”

“n-no,” he stumbles, suddenly very awake. “are you asking me if i’m gay??”

you shrug, taking another sip just to hide how entertained you are.

“hey, nothing wrong with it, i’ll even support you.”

“why would you even—”

you cut him off with a small tilt of your head.

“maybe because we can’t get through a conversation without you bringing him up.”

he opens his mouth. closes it. pauses.

“…that’s not—”

you just stare at him. waiting.

he exhales, running a hand through his hair, clearly flustered now.

“that’s not why,” he mutters.

“then why?” you press lightly.

and this time, he doesn’t answer right away. the teasing fades. his gaze shifts back to you — and lingers. longer than it has all night. and you feel it again. that pull that’s been there all night, in every look, every joke, every quiet moment.

but this one feels different. heavier. closer.

“because,” he starts, voice quieter now, like the words aren’t meant for anyone else but you, “you’re his sister.”

you exhale softly through your nose, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“yes,” you say, dry. “we’ve established that plenty of times tonight.”

he doesn’t take the bait. doesn’t laugh. just huffs out a breath, gaze dropping for a second before coming back up to you. like he’s thinking. weighing it. like there’s a line he knows he shouldn’t cross. and he’s standing right at the edge of it.

but then he looks at you again. really looks. and whatever restraint he had — it slips. just enough.

“and i’ve been trying really hard not to do something stupid.”

your fingers tighten slightly around your bottle. your heartbeat picks up before you can stop it.

“…like what?” you ask, softer now. not teasing anymore. not really.

there’s a pause. a small one. but it stretches. his eyes flick briefly to your lips. back to your eyes. like he’s already imagining it.

and then he says it.

“like kiss you.”

it lands between you. heavy. quiet. real. no joke to soften it. no smirk to take it back. just the truth — sitting right there, in the space between your shoulders, your knees almost touching, your breaths just slightly out of sync.

you don’t move. you don’t even think you breathe. because suddenly — everything feels louder. your heartbeat. the silence. the way he’s still looking at you like he hasn’t decided if he’s done holding himself back yet.

“how long have you and my brother been friends again?” you ask.

he blinks at you, thrown off, confused. like that’s the last thing he expected right now.

“…like a year?” he finally says.

you nod slowly. like you’re actually thinking about it. weighing it. but you weren’t. not really.

your fingers loosen around your bottle, setting it down gently on the floor. then you turn toward him slowly, deliberately, letting the moment stretch.

he watches you intently, his gaze darting from your eyes to your lips and back again. he's trying to read you, to predict your next move, but the air between you thickens, heavy with unspoken want.

you tilt your head just a fraction, holding his stare without flinching. the words slip out soft but pointed—

“so you’re not gonna kiss me over a year long friendship?”

it’s quiet. but it hits. hard. his breath catches. for a second, just one, he looks like he’s still holding on to that last thread of restraint.

you lean in closer, inch by torturous inch, until the heat radiating from his body seeps into yours. the world narrows to the space between you, the faint hitch in his breathing, the way his scent settles into your lungs, steady and consuming, until it’s the only thing you can focus on.

and fuck. you’re so close he can’t even hear himself think anymore. everything else fades. logic. rules. bro-code. mark’s snores in the background. all gone.

all that’s left is this pull— magnetic, inevitable — like you’ve both been circling this moment all night and finally stopped pretending otherwise.

and when your noses brush, you whisper, softly—

“or will you risk it and kiss me?”

and he feels like he might drop dead.

your question hang in the air between you, soft and sure, unraveling the last thread of his restraint.

haechan's eyes lock onto yours, dark and stormy. he doesn't hesitate anymore. can't. his fingers thread gently into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he tilts your face toward his — and then his lips crash into yours in a soft, slow kiss. enough to steal your breath.

you pull apart for a second, breathless, and you can’t help but bite your lip.

“jisung’s just gonna have to deal with it,” he mutters.

you raise a brow, “yeah, bringing up my brother right after kissing me is—”

you don’t get to finish your sentence because his lips are on yours again. soft, but urgent, like he's been starving for this taste. and you don’t even remember what you were going to say. your mouth responds to him immediately.

his lips part just enough to let his tongue trace the seam of your mouth, seeking entry. you open to him — and god, you taste even sweeter than he imagined, now with the hint of his favorite beer.

it turns hungrier, tongues sliding together in a slick, intimate dance that sends sparks racing down your spine. haechan groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips, raw and unguarded.

his hand travels down, fingers settling on your belt loops, thumb tracing circles on your slightly exposed skin. your hands come up, tangling in his hair, eliciting a whine from him.

that whine ignites something fierce in you, a bold urge that overrides the caution flickering at the edges of your mind. you tug harder on his hair, guiding him with you as you lean back until your back meets the soft carpet floor, the bottle of beers completely forgotten.

your legs part instinctively, making room for him to settle between them, his body pressing down with a weight that's both grounding and electric.

the kiss is hotter now, lips and tongues clashing with desperate need.

the carpet scratches lightly at your back, but you barely notice — everything is him, the heat of his body pinning you, the way his breath comes in hot pants against your mouth, his hand roaming down your side.

his lips break from yours, trailing a wet path down your jaw, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there just enough to make you arch into him. he moves lower, mouth finding the curve of your neck, his hand comes up to move your hair out of the way and his touch is enough to make you feel dizzy. then he sucks hard, tongue flicking over the sensitive spot before his teeth sink in lightly, marking you with a blooming bruise. the sensation earns him a sweet moan, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room, reaching his ear like music.

haechan lifts his head just enough to murmur against your skin, his voice a low, teasing rumble.

“shhh, pretty girl, you don’t wanna wake mark up now, do you?” he smiles into your neck, lips brushing the fresh mark as his hand squeezes your hip.

“please,” you say breathlessly, “he wouldn’t even know if the world ended right now,” you joke, mark’s soft snores from across the room confirming your statement.

haechan chuckles softly, the vibration humming against your skin as he nips at your earlobe.

“good point,” he whispers, voice thick with desire, his mouth returning to your neck to soothe the mark with a slow lick while his free hand wanders up to squeeze your tit.

you bite your lip, stifling your moan as you slide your hand down his back, fingers dipping into his back pocket to squeeze his ass. the muscle tenses under your grip, and haechan looks up at you, eyes wide with a little shock, his lips parting in surprise.

“what? two can play that game,” you tease, your voice light but laced with mischief, holding his gaze as you give another squeeze.

he smirks, recovering quickly, his hand still cupping your breast as he leans in closer, “didn’t know you were an ass man,” he says, his tone playful, eyes darkening with amusement and hunger.

“oh yeah,” you reply, teasing, squeezing harder, feeling the firm curve fill your palm, “i just love cute little butts so much,” your tone laced with sarcasm.

haechan laughs at that, the sound warm and genuine, breaking the intensity for a split second and god, he’s just so, so pretty — you’re almost paranoid that you made him up. that this was all just a figment of your imagination. and you’d wake up with your phone in your hand opened to his instagram profile.

before you could completely spiral, you crane your neck up to kiss him again, almost begging. it’s kinda pathetic and so not who you are. but you can’t help it, you’re a sucker for pretty boys.

“hmm,” he hums, the hand on your tit wandering up to brush your bottom lip. you place a soft kiss on the tip of this thumb, “so pretty,” he murmurs.

and lucky for you — he’s a sucker for you.

his lips crash on yours again, “never wanna stop kissing you,” he sighs in between breaths, the moment heating up once more as he melts into you, tongues tangling urgently.

your finger pulls at his belt loop and he understands your signal, grinding on your clothed core once, hips rolling forward with deliberate pressure, and even through the layers of both of your jeans, it’s enough to make you shiver, a jolt of pleasure shooting straight to your clit. you’re so wet, so fucking wet, your panties soaked and sticking to your folds, aching for more friction, more of him.

but before you can ask him to do something about it — before you can beg him to unzip your jeans and slide his fingers inside — your phone buzzes in the back of your pocket.

you try to ignore it, focusing on him, but then it buzzes again. and again. and again. insistent and relentless.

finally, you break the kiss, turning your head to the side. haechan’s mouth trails after you, lips brushing your cheek in a reluctant chase, both of you out of breath and flustered, chests heaving in the dim hotel light.

“one moment,” you say, smiling sheepishly, as you reach back to pull out your phone from your back pocket.

haechan groans softly in protest, but he hovers above you anyway, propped on his elbows, his dark hair tousled from your earlier fingers raking through it, strands falling messily over his forehead. his lips are swollen and glistening from your kisses, parted slightly as he breathes heavily, eyes locked on yours with that hungry, lingering heat. pretty. so fucking distracting. you have to force yourself to look away, tearing your gaze away from the way his chest rises and falls, the faint sheen of sweat on his collarbone.

your screen lights up with a string of texts:

giselle 🖤: where r u????

giselle 🖤: it’s almost 9

giselle 🖤: i heard the boys come in earlier

giselle 🖤: if you’re not here cause of taro, he already left for work

giselle 🖤: i’m getting really worried please

giselle 🖤: if you don’t answer right now, im calling the police

you almost feel bad, a twinge of guilt twisting in your gut. but hey, she was the one telling you to “see what the night holds.” and if she knew you were under lee haechan right now — she’d be proud.

“shit,” you mutter under your breath, thumb scrolling through the messages.

haechan's expression shifts instantly, worry creasing his brow as he pushes up slightly, his warm hand sliding to your waist.

“everything okay?” he asks, voice low and concerned, laced with that protective edge that makes your heart skip a tiny beat.

he helps you sit up with gentle pressure, the two of you shifting to sit side by side on the carpet again, his thigh pressing firmly against yours. the heat from his body radiates through your clothes, a reminder of how close you were to stripping them off.

“it’s giselle — she’s looking for me,” you explain, tilting the phone so he can see the frantic string of texts.

he leans in close, his shoulder bumping yours, breath warm against your ear as he reads over your shoulder, his scent filling your senses. and you’re not too sure how you’re going to walk out of this room.

his free hand rests on your thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles that send sparks up your leg, even now.

your phone buzzes again.

giselle 🖤: 3 seconds and i’m waking everyone in this damn hotel

your eyes widen as you type quickly, thumbs flying:

y/n: i’m here!

y/n: sorry!

y/n: im okay!

y/n: omw back

you don’t wait for her response, shutting off the screen and placing your phone to the side.

turning towards haechan, you send him an apologetic smile before cupping his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss — this one soft, innocent, almost sweet, a gentle press of lips that contrasts the raw urgency from before. his mouth yields to yours, warm, tongue flicking out just once to taste you before you pull back.

“i should probably go,” you say sheepishly, your voice hushed, fingers lingering on his cheek as reluctance tugs at you.

before you can fully pull away, haechan’s hand cups the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair with a gentle but insistent tug. he draws you back in, capturing your lips in another soft press.

“i’ll walk you back,” he mutters against your lips, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you, as he nips at your bottom lip.

you smirk, the playful curve of your mouth brushing his as you lean in again, stealing another kiss — quick but firm, “i’m literally right next door,” you murmur.

the two of you just can’t seem to stop. every separation lasting only seconds before one of you closes the gap. his lips find yours again, softer this time.

he pulls back just enough to flash you a mischievous smile, his eyes sparkling with that devilish glint, dark lashes framing the heat in his gaze.

“i know you are,” he says, punctuating the words with another kiss, deeper now, “i put you there.”

you pretend to be shocked, pulling back with wide eyes and a dramatic gasp, though your fingers curl into his shirt, holding him close.

“ahhh, i knew it wasn’t a coincidence,” you say, your voice laced with feigned accusation, even though his confession makes your head spin.

“did you?” he counters, his grin widening as he chases your lips for another kiss, this one playful and light.

“mhm,” you hum affirmatively, your response muffled as you kiss him back.

he chuckles, the sound low and vibrating against your lips, warm air fanning your face as he hovers close.

“what can i say? i always had a vision of you begging for my kiss,” he teases, his free hand drifting to your hip, thumb circling the strip of exposed skin above your waistband, dipping just under the edge of your jeans to trace the curve of your bone.

you pull back immediately in mock offense, swatting his chest lightly while trying to suppress your laugh.

“begging? me?? you’re crazy,” you retort even though you did just that. the memory of how desperately you'd wanted him earlier flashing in your mind.

“okay, fine,” he laughs, the sound rich and genuine, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he concedes, pulling you flush against him, “it was me begging.”

“that’s much better,” you smile, your thumb brushing his jawline, feeling the slight stubble rasp against your skin.

he matches your smile, slow and seductive, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up, dark and intent.

“give me another kiss, baby, please,” he says, the endearment rolling off his tongue like velvet, husky and intimate, making your pulse stutter.

and you do. because he called you baby. because he said please. because he’s just oh, oh, so pretty.

the kiss lingers, sweet and unhurried, his free arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, bodies aligning in a perfect, warm fit against the carpet.

when he pulls away for the umpteenth time, he stares at your lips a little too long and you think he might lean in again, but all he does is say something that pulls a soft laugh out of you—

“your lipstick is gone,” he says, a playful smirk on his face.

🏹

haechan stands first, offering his hand to help you up, his fingers lacing with yours as you rise, the simple touch sending sparks up your arm.

“come on,” he murmurs softly, “before your friend gets all of us kicked out of this hotel.”

you giggle, squeezing his hand, letting him lead you toward the door, the cool air of the hallway a stark contrast to the warmth you left behind in the room.

the walk is short — literally just five steps down the dimly lit corridor, the carpet muffling your footsteps, the faint hum of the hotel’s ac the only sound breaking the charged silence.

his thumb strokes the back of your hand, a subtle reassurance, his presence solid and comforting beside you.

at your door, you fish the key card from your bag, holding it out, but before you can swipe it, he takes it from your fingers, his touch lingering on your skin.

he pulls you in for one last kiss, slow and deep, lips molding to yours with a final, aching sweetness. his free hand cups the back of your neck, holding you there as his tongue teases yours one more time, a soft suck on your bottom lip that draws a quiet moan from you.

then, with a reluctant exhale, he breaks away, swiping the card through the reader. the lock beeps green, the door unlocking with a click. he hands the card back but doesn’t step away, leaning in close, his lips brushing your ear.

“good night,” he whispers, the words silent and intimate, meant only for you.

“good night,” you whisper back, your voice barely audible, slipping through the door as it swings open.

your fingers stay tangled with his until the distance forces them apart, a final brush of skin that leaves you both reaching for a second longer.

the last thing he hears before the door shuts is your friend’s voice, sharp and exasperated from inside the room.

“oh my god, you better have a good reason why you’re back so late.”

the door clicks closed, muffling your response, and haechan stands there in the empty hotel hallway, a slow, unstoppable smile spreading across his face.

he looks like a lovesick fool, heart pounding and he thinks you two might go really nice together.

🏹

the first sip of soju mark had the night that he met you was nothing compared to his final sip that evening. honestly speaking, he didn't want to drink soju at all; he always preferred beer because—well, it didn't make his face and ears go quite as red and it paired better with his favorite snacks. at least that's what he thought until he found himself at the quiet corner store by his apartment late on a thursday night, where he saw you for the first time.

you sat alone atop a tall stool, glowing from the warmth of the summer night's heat with an impressive six bottles of soju by your side. instantly, his plan to grab a few beers and some junk food to take back to his place after a tiresome, uninspiring day vanished.

he'd never admit it to you, but you were quite a pitiful sight—slumped over the table and halfway through your second bottle with black rings of mascara around your eyes. you were obviously not having a good day; that, and the fact that it was half past midnight, sealed his fate: in a moment's notice, he didn't know you, but even then, he decided that you didn't deserve to be out so late, upset and drinking by yourself.

that night, mark lee approached you, be it out of intrigue or intense sympathy, and unknowingly catalyzed the beginning of your friendship.

"do you plan on drinking all that by yourself?"

you didn't look up at first, staring blankly at his shoes that came to an abrupt stop a short bit away from you. for a while, you didn't say anything, either, completely ignoring his presence as you wallowed in your state of sadness.

just when he thought your silence was a polite form of rejection and made the first move to step away, the screech of the stool dragging against the ground drew his attention. you were looking at him now, one foot pushing the chair as a wordless invitation for him to sit down.

you're quick to shake around one of the soju bottles for him, watching the little tornado form a spiral behind the clear green glass. after twisting it open, you hand it to him, clinking your bottle against his and not waiting before bringing it to your lips for a sip.

he watches as he drinks, then follows suit, taking note of the fact that your gulp is significantly longer than his. you scrunch up your face at the taste, huffing out, and he asked, "do you not like this flavor?"

nothing.

mark takes another apprehensive sip and sighs. he'd much rather be at home having his beer with his loud roommates who hog his snacks. even if he were to have been alone, the more probable outcome since they went out often, he might still have been fine. why did he have to come up to you in the first place?

deciding this would be his last attempt at conversation, mark clears his throat, "do you wanna talk about it? i won't even say anything if you want. sometimes it's good to vent, ya know?"

truthfully, he's not expecting you to answer, and he's begun planning how he's gonna get up and politely excuse himself when for the first time, you meet his eyes. your hand dances across the table, taking the small, metal bottle cap and extending the attached metal strip until it's poking upwards. you hand it to him expectantly.

"do you-" he holds it up between his index and thumb, "do you want me to flick it..?"

you nod, "we'll take turns asking questions, and whoever flicks it off gets their question answered. if it doesn’t come off on your turn, you take a drink." your voice is not nearly as quiet or timid as he expected it to be, and it takes him by surprise. your speech is also not slurred, meaning either your drinking tolerance is relatively high, or you were still early into your night's mission of destroying your liver when he ran into you.

his train of thought stutters momentarily, but he clears his throat and managed to form a sentence, "wouldn't we get to know each other better if we were actually answering the questions?"

nonchalantly, you shrug, "i think the questions you're willing to ask a complete stranger say a lot about you."

mark blinks once at you before readjusting in his seat. he thinks for a second before nodding to himself, "okay. what's your favorite color?"

there's a small clink as he flicks the coiled metal, but it doesn't come off. you snort at his plain and boring question, taking the cap from his hands. as he awaits your question, he takes a sip, only to choke on it as your words leave your lips.

"are you like a pervert or something?" flick. it doesn’t come off.

"what? no!" instantly, he coughs out, wiping his mouth on his jacket sleeve, "why would you even think that?"

"you saw a girl drinking on her own and came over to talk to her. maybe you wanna take advantage of me or something..." you trail off, continuing after taking a drink. "anyway, that's not how you play—you weren't supposed to answer. you also can't ask me a question unless you flick for it after, but we'll call that a practice round."

"you just asked if i was a pervert! how was i meant to not answ-"

"that's also a question," you warn, waving the little green cap around in front of his face. he begrudgingly takes it, sitting up much straighter as he tries to conjure an equally staggering question to ask you.

"why would you let a random stranger join you for a drink on a street corner? what if i was a pervert?"

"that's two questions," you sigh out, but he fails to flick off the coil off so you take it from him again.

"if you're not a pervert, then why did you come up to me?"

as your finger meets the cap, it sends flying the piece of metal. mark's lips purse, realizing he actually owes you an answer this time. he also realizes… he doesn’t have one—not a very good one at least.

the tips of his ears are glowing hot as he clears his throat, “well, i-i was gonna… you just- and then i saw you and-” he pauses to take a deep breath, pleading with himself to stop his pathetic stuttering. really, he came up to you because you were sad, lonely, and drinking by yourself on a random street corner; he can't just say that though. you would be offended if he stated it so plainly.

after a short moment, racking his brain and sitting under your expectant gaze, mark gathers himself and his answer.

“today hasn’t been great. i was gonna go home to mope and drink, too. I only came to pick up some alcohol and that’s when I saw you sitting here, drinking by yourself. so, I figured, you know... that neither of us deserve drink alone...”

he hardly maintains eye contact as he trails off and you’re grateful, because there’s a small smile fighting to creep onto your lips. he's charming, albeit a little awkward.

“that’s a good answer,” you decide and finish downing your drink, spinning around a new bottle and twisting off the cap.

mark, newly encouraged by your praise, holds his hand out for you to allow him his turn. he even goes as far as flicking the air a few times for practice before aligning his fingers with his target.

"so, how and why did you end up sitting out here tonight?"

your breath kinda hitches in your throat.

"no one ever gets in on the first try," you try to argue, reluctant to reveal your answer, "so hand it over-"

there's a small clink as it lands on the cold pavement, the metal spiral that was proven to be no match for the boy. you blink at him and the accomplished, giddy smile that spreads on his face, letting your shoulders fall.

"you were saying?" he jokes, leaning forward. his cheeks and face are starting to flush red from the alcohol, "i believe you owe me an answer,"

"long day," you mutter.

"oh, come on. that's so vague," at your glare, his hand reaches over to land on your forearm, and your eyes follow it warily, "i promise, i won't judge you or anything."

his eyes are soft and genuine and boring into yours with no attempt to hide his curiosity. this game may have been your idea, but you didn't expect to actually have to open up to some random guy.

whatever, you think to yourself, it's not like he knows you enough to care. but then why would he ask? he does care, at least somewhat. why would he approach you if he didn't, right? anyway, you're not sure whether that notion makes you feel better or worse, but the soju is catching up to you and sending the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can decide.

"i got broken up with yesterday," you pause, but mark doesn't speak. his smile does falter, though, and you feel a pang in your chest for ruining the mood, "we were together for over a year and a half. as it turns out, he hasn't even been in love with me for most of it. he said that he 'fell out of love' a few months in. didn't bother letting me in on that detail, though,"

you laugh bitterly and take a sip, nose sniffling to fight any tears that might spill, "and i'm here because, well," you slosh around the clear liquid, "it beats being in my apartment and laying on the bed he's slept in."

another drink of grape soju washes down the bitter feeling in your throat, just as mark finishes his own bottle. for a moment, you think he's getting ready to head home after your confession, but he reaches for another without hesitation, handing you the cap when he peels it off.

he nods in encouragement, lips parting to speak, and his voice is soothing when it flows out. unknowingly, he'd say exactly what you needed to hear.

"i don't wanna overstep, and i don't want you to keep thinking about that asshole. he doesn't deserve it. so, instead," he wiggles the cap, "i'll keep you distracted. i will say, though, you don't seem like the kind of person who's easy to move on from."

"you don't even know me," you whisper.

"then take this soju cap, play your turn, and give me the chance to get to know you. your game's pretty fun, stranger, and we've still got a few bottles to get through."

"mark? mark! are you even listening?"

a couch cushion plummets towards him, hitting him upside the head and knocking the glasses off his face. He blinks a few times but he’s clearly still dazed  as he turns to face hyuck, a distant look his eyes, "what?" he mumbles. 

"dude, you've literally banana-peeled yourself three times in a row. what are you doing?”

bringing the hand that tucks his glasses back on down to rub his chin, mark sighs out, "sorry, just got lost in my thoughts for a second,”

it’s been happening incessantly the last few days–his mind drifting and getting lost in a memory of you. He can’t help but think of you, and each and every flash of your face that crosses his mind makes his heart ache just a little bit more. you haven’t answered his texts and calls, other than the very brief reply you sent this morning where you let him know you need more time to think things over. 

it's a very reasonable, exceedingly rational, normal request. in fact, it's exactly what he expected you to say, but still... damn you.

damn you because for two hours straight this morning, mark had typed up at least a dozen different replies, spamming the back space button after each one since none managed to make sense of his disorganized thoughts. he thrashed around in bed, hovered his thumb over the call button a few times, even considered taking his car keys and showing up on your front door. your reply, which he waited nearly 72 hours for, had nearly driven him mad, and it robbed him of sleep for the remainder of the early morning hours.

he almost prefers you hadn’t answered him at all. almost. 

“get it together, man! how am i supposed to beat jeno if you’re sabotaging yourself and therefore, my training session? i lost forty bucks to him last week ‘cause i couldn’t beat him at smash, i’m not losing to him again.”

on cue, the sound of the doorknob unlocking and twisting open alerts both boys who turn their heads; instantly, hyuck scoffs at the inconvenient coincidence and mark’s stomach drops in dread.

the other person responsible for his rapidly depleting mood and confidence, the last of the two individuals occupying his every thought–lee jeno. 

mark lee has never felt so conflicted and confused in his life. sure, he understands where jeno's coming from; how could he not sympathize with him when he, too, is in the exact same position? still, it's frustrating because he’s pissed off, but he's not even mad at him, or at you, for that matter. he debated it for a while, but turns out he's not mad at himself, either. it's not any less true that he is angry. perhaps, it’s at the universe for its sick and twisted sense of humor. 

it fucking hurts that he knows it's no one's fault and yet, he can’t help the way seeing jeno makes him sick to his stomach. to put it plainly, if it wasn't for him, you'd be his, but dwelling on that fact and wishing for the alternative is extremely selfish. 

the boy, oblivious to his best friend's inner turmoil, walks in, swinging his gym bag off his shoulder and wiping his shoes on the door mat. he takes a moment to straighten it out since it was folded over, no doubt hyuck's doing.

“hey,” he greets quietly. mark only manages a grunt, but it’s not like jeno would’ve heard it anyway, with the youngest boy jumping up and out of his seat, creating a rattle as he knocks his phone and the remote off the couch.

his index finger shoots forward to point and shout, “you!” jeno looks over, alarmed as hyuck spews instructions, “couch, now. controller in hand. i’m handing your ass to you,”

“in your dreams,” he snorts. the couch dips when he plops down, and less than a second later, mark’s moving to leave. he can't bother to not make it obvious, and jeno's brow creases as he notices.

“yo,” hyuck drags out the syllable in a whine, “where are you going? jeno just got here.”

“he can use my controller, i’m not in the mood to play anymore.” without glancing his way, mark scoots up and passes the controller to jeno who holds an arm out to stop him.

“wait. you alright? you’ve been down the last few days.”

hardly managing the effort to reply, mark blinks at the ground. he says, “m’fine,” but his roommate's not convinced at all. jeno tries insisting again, smacking his lips playfully in one last attempt to lighten the mood.

“come on,” he urges, “stick around for a bit. maybe a few rounds will cheer you up, we can grab some beers and-“

but mark stands anyway, tapping his phone out of habit to turn on the screen, just in case there’s a notification from you. there isn’t.

“i’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

jeno remains silent this time, lips folding downward as his eyes follow mark who walks away. hyuck doesn't offer the same quiet, but his protests are drowned out nonetheless when mark has made it down the hall, shutting his bedroom door behind him.

⋆ ★

“alright, you’ve been warned.”

“come on, there's no way they're that bad,” you roll your eyes, nudging your shoulder into mark’s. he hollers an ‘ow’ at the impact, although it's half-hearted and mixed with a laugh. without giving it a second thought, he pushes you right back, setting you off balance. instinctively, you scramble to reach for his upper arm to keep from falling flat on your ass, and his quick reflexes allow him to grip your wrist and pull you to his chest.  his eyes are wide as he stares at you, laughter echoing loudly. 

you gasp, but your offense is short-lived. his giggles are contagious and you end up mirroring his expression, settling for smacking his arm instead. 

“do you want me to end up in the hospital before i meet your friends?!” 

mark only rolls his eyes and shoots you a playful wink, “i’d take it as a sign from the universe that i should gate keep you.” in one motion, he twists the key into the lock and when the apartment door opens, he calls out a hello to his roommates who he explicitly briefed you about on the car ride over.

firstly, he warned you about donghyuck, who he described as a funny, talkative, know-it-all that didn't know how to keep his thoughts to himself. mark also made sure to mention that he'd be probing you mercilessly, poking his nose in your business. "it’s his way of showing he cares," he had said. "reminds me of someone," you had replied, wiggling your eyebrows his way. mark smiled at your indirect compliment, then proceeded to express the fact that him and hyuck were very different, as you would soon come to find out.

then, he told you about jeno, who he claimed was so boyish and shy that it may initially appear like he doesn’t even like you. according to mark, he’s endearingly awkward but a very good, reliable friend. mark also mentioned the sporty boy has one weakness: he's highly susceptible to hyuck’s teasing. he told you how hyuck would pick on him at any given opportunity, then went as far as to say that “the most you’ll hear him talk is when the two of them are arguing,”

as soon as you walk in, it’s easy to immediately tell the two boys apart. the one you presume to be hyuck has his phone drawn to his lips and is yelling out the lyrics to a bruno mars song that plays from a speaker. his limbs are flailing, and he’s jumping in circles around jeno who stands stiff, patiently setting up the solo cups for a game of beer pong.

when they hear you both enter, hyuck is the first to spin on his heel, holding out a hand as if to dedicate the lyrics to his best friend and the girl he’s never met before. he takes shameless strides over before grabbing your hand to spin you in a circle. as soon as he reaches for mark’s waist, your friend recoils away and the two start bickering, leaving you to meet eyes with jeno for the first time.

with a deep breath, one that fails to soothe your hungry lungs and nervous heart, you bring your knuckles up, knocking three times on the apartment door. 

when you pulled into the parking lot earlier, you noticed mark’s car was not in his usual spot, a sight that flushed relief through you almost instantly. it’s a strange feeling, because usually, you feel quite the opposite. 

these last couple of days make the longest that you and mark have ever gone without talking since you met, and as much as you want to see him, there’s something you need to do first, and it’ll be much easier without him around. 

you owe jeno a conversation, and he had been very patient in waiting for your call or text, unlike mark who accounted for more than half of your notifications. finally, you wrote to him today, just over a week after his confession, and asked if you could come over to talk.

it takes about a minute of you shifting your weight between your heels nervously for hyuck to open the door. he instantly moves aside to let you in, a hand holding his phone up to his ear. before walking over to the couch, where he presumably resided before your arrival, given by the snacks and mess of blankets, he nods once at you, then keeps arguing with the person on the other line. 

“renjun, you’re insufferable. i’m telling you, there’s no way you can outdrink me.“ 

their interaction manages to crack a smile on your face, a feat that’s been harder to accomplish recently. as you kick off your shoes, your thumbs move quickly to shoot jeno a text that you’re here and then, you take a seat on the arm rest, returning to your state of nervousness. subconsciously, you bring a nail to your mouth to chew it as hyuck rips open a bag of chips and shoots you a look of disgust, waving at you so you’ll move your hand away. considering how often he bickers with renjun, he’s truly starting to resemble him. 

you check your phone again, even though it’s only been a few seconds since you pressed send, and sigh out, continuing to lie in wait.

meanwhile, from the spot on his bed, jeno has a hand resting across his stomach, the other clutching his phone close to his face to watch a stream. the moment the notification of your text drops down, interrupting the league game he was monitoring, he shoots up into a sitting position. 

he doesn't intend to make you wait so long, but it takes him a few minutes to head outside because, well, he takes the time to straighten out his bed and shove his running shoes in the closet in effort to tidy things up. jeno’s room is significantly cleaner than the other two boys, but this would be the first time you saw it, and he felt that it should look presentable. 

when he deems everything accommodated, he wipes the sweat from his palms and steps outside. As he turns the corner at the end of the hall, his eyes land on you where you sit, fidgeting with your phone and chewing on your lip. for a moment, the air leaves his lungs. 

the very first time jeno’s eyes glaze over your person, his train of thought–which was previously making a desperate effort to drown out hyuck's loud voice as he bellowed the lyrics of versace on the floor–is interrupted, halted at once.  

all of his thoughts cease, as does his involuntary breathing process, and he has to instantly do a double take your way. you’re already looking back at him, offering a smile so soft and sweet that it provokes his own shy grin to form. the contagious, upward curve of your plump and pink lips is the first of your features that he notices, and his eyes blatantly admire it for a bit. the second thing he lingers on is the particularly dreamy blue hue of your crocheted cardigan as he acknowledges the way it brings out the color of your eyes. it highlights the shade of your smooth skin, and he decides just then that this color was made solely for you. 

he can only spare it that single, passing thought, though. his focus is quickly drawn back to your smile, bright and unyielding, and in this moment, only for him. 

god, how did he manage to go so long without knowing your smile? 

it’s strange, the complicated curiosity that nestles in his chest; it tugs at his heartstrings until the organ is thumping incessantly in his throat. there’s an inexplicable warmth in your gaze, and although he has no idea who you are, he’s already appointed himself humbly at your disposal.  

“hi,” you breathe out, voice as polite as the hand you hold out for him to shake, “i’m y/n.” 

“hey,” he waves you over and you stand on wobbly legs, walking toward the hall that leads to his room. 

he opens his bedroom door and moves aside so you can walk in first, his arm gesturing around, “you can sit on my bed, or on my desk chair. wherever is okay,” 

with a hum, you set your bag down on his chair, scooting onto the edge of his bed and hiking your legs up so that you’re sitting criss-crossed. he joins you, sitting at the foot and leaning back on his palms, twisting his torso to face you, somewhat expectantly.

“hey, jen,” you quietly mumble, looking up from your lap to finally meet his round orbs. they’re as kind as ever, and a grin creeps onto his lips before he even opens his mouth to speak. 

“i was starting to miss you,” he weakly jokes. although the mood doesn’t lend itself too kindly to humor at the moment, his charm still brings a smile to your face, “you haven’t been around in a bit.” 

you nod in acknowledgement, “yeah, i know, it’s just…” the sigh that leaves your lips makes him frown, and he contemplates reaching for your arm, but decides against it. the air is thick, and he’s not entirely convinced the gesture would help soothe your nerves in the slightest.  

after a few seconds of silence, jeno picks up on the fact that your trailing off was because you couldn’t seem to find the right words. that, or you didn’t have the heart to say what he assumed you were implying with your hesitance, maybe in an effort to spare his feelings. when you start picking at your nails anxiously, he timidly interrupts the quiet.  

“i hope you know that i didn’t mean to make things awkward,” he starts, “i don’t want you to think that you can’t come over because i have feelings for you. you’re still friends with the guys, it’s not fair for you to feel like-”

“no, it’s not your fault! that’s not why i haven’t been over,” he doesn’t miss the way your eyes shift around in thought, and he nods once to let you know he’s waiting and listening. 

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” you settle for saying, shoulders slumping slightly, “but i can promise you that it’s not because of your feelings for me.” 

there’s a bit of a sadness behind the smile he gives you—despite how much he tries to hide it—as he reaches his conclusion, “i think i’ve figured out by now that you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay,” when you shoot him a look, he only grins at you again, reassuringly, “it’s okay that you don’t like me. you can’t help that,”

the tears that prick at your eyes come as a surprise to both him and you. they come unprecedented and unannounced, beginning to roll down your cheeks as you nudge him and wipe at your face harshly in embarrassment, “you’re not supposed to be comforting me right now,” 

“can i?” he asks, ignoring your scolding. when you don’t say no, he guides your hand away, replacing it with his own and using his thumb to swipe away at your warm tear streaks with much more care. 

“you know i care for you, right?” you admit in one breath. it’s hard to keep your eyes on him, maybe because of the slight guilt you feel at this moment, consuming your usual confidence. somehow, tearing your gaze away would be worse, because it meant you wouldn’t be able to read whether or not his answer was sincere, and for the sake of calming your heavy heart, you force yourself to keep looking. 

slowly, he nods in response, blowing softly on your eyes, “don’t cry, okay? never over me.” even at a time like this, he’s selfless, tending to you with small gestures and actions. you almost feel the need to cry harder, but you meet his request and attempt to pull back your tears.

“you know,” he starts, “the day that we met, the first thing i noticed was your smile. you were beaming, and i wondered in that moment, ‘how did i go so long without your pretty smile in my life?’” instantly, as the words leave his lips, your brow furrows and your eyes squeeze shut. 

so much for trying not to cry. 

“i looked forward to seeing you everyday from then on. i thought about you while you were away, when i was down… you don’t know how many bad days your smile got me through, so please, don’t cry.” 

with a shaky breath, you nod, leaning into his palm that still cradles your face, “you’re so sweet, always have been. i’m sorry that i can’t feel that way about you,” 

he presses his lips to your forehead and you wrap your arms around his torso. he responds by squeezing you back, voice quiet and shy by your ear, “I love you–a-and I know you can’t say it back,” he rushes to clarify, “i don’t expect you to. but, i need to say it to you once, and this might be my only chance. i’m gonna be a little selfish and take it.” 

the sound you make is somewhere between a strangled sob and a giggle, and he pulls back slowly to look at you. maybe it’s because of the sudden closeness or his attraction to you, but his eyes flicker to your lips.

“could i maybe, o-one last—nevermind, i can’t ask that of you,” his stuttering is barely audible, something like an impulsive thought he caught just before it managed to slip out. his tone is sharp, scolding of himself for even beginning to say it out loud. still, you catch on to his request, and with one hand softly stroking the nape of his neck, you start leaning in. 

when your lips first touch his, barely pressing into them, jeno pulls away in a bit of a panic, “you don’t have to-” 

“i know. i want to.” his brow lifts when you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “you deserve to give me a kiss that doesn’t have a ten second time limit, or two other people in the room each waiting for a turn. your heart is so big,” you mumble, “i want you to have the chance to kiss me how you want,”

jeno silently kicks himself, because how could he ask you not to cry if his own eyes were beginning to burn? 

ever so carefully, his lips hover over yours. he takes his time as he leans closer, wary, giving you ample time to change your mind. when you don’t pull away and instead raise your brow slightly, he gains a bit more confidence. 

jeno presses a few soft, opened mouth kisses to your lips, squeezing his eyes tight as he savors his first real and final taste of you. his warm tongue swipes at your bottom lip, but it isn't insistent enough to invite you to deepen the kiss; he doesn’t intend it to be, either. It’s clear that he’s taking it slow. 

you can tell the flow of this kiss is being heavily considered, timed to be perfectly tender and easy. his mouth feels smooth, working against yours with only a slight desperation. instinctively, your hand clutches his shoulder as you realize: this might’ve been the kiss he intended to give you that day during the first bet if hyuck hadn’t pressured him.

a kiss so deep and so gentle, where his emotions pour out in the tiny breaths that tickle your face. his fingers disappear into your hairline and massage your scalp, and you can feel his nose pressing deeply into your cheek as he pulls you closer, humming quietly. on that day where he seemed so nervous to have you so close, because of course, it wasn’t just a competition to him, jeno wasn’t able to put his all into kissing you, but right now, it felt like he couldn’t give you any more of himself without physically handing you his heart. at the thought, you sniffle mid-kiss and realize the saltiness you’re tasting is a mix of both of your tears.

as much as he wishes he could continue, he can’t allow himself to be too greedy because kissing you like this and not being able to have you after might just be too much for his fluttering heart to handle. he breaks away, eyes remaining closed as he breathes out. you blink open your eyes before he does. it’s your turn to wipe his cheeks.

“i’m sorry, jen.”  

“no,” he clears his throat, “don’t be. and thanks for, well, this.” his hand squeezes yours once, then a second time, and the two of you sit wordlessly for a few moments as everything sinks in, the only sounds being the occasional snivel from either of you. 

when you finally move to stretch your legs out you gasp, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror above his dresser. he’s startled for a moment, watching you shoot up from your spot and rush over to wipe your face. 

“jeno, why didn’t you tell me i looked like this?!” you squeak out, mascara blotted on and around your eyes. he kinda laughs at you, twisting around to watch your frantic motions in amusement. in seconds, he’s dug into a drawer and he’s handing you a pack of wipes, mumbling something about how he didn’t even notice, which earns him a glare. the tension seems to have eased at once following this interaction, and the mood is lighter as you slip into small talk. you finish swiping away the makeup from your face and when it’s clean, you check the time on your phone and place it on the dresser.

“You know the last time i made your makeup run, you definitely weren’t crying,” 

“oh, god,” your face glows red and your hand makes contact with his shoulder, “how embarrassing!” 

“sorry, sorry,” he grins timidly, shying away from your blow, “too soon.”

when your laughter dies down, you shoot him a grin.

“i should go soon. it’s getting dark,” he nods once. you swing your bag over your shoulder and head for the door, mumbling something about how the last time you left their place late you were too scared to walk from your parking garage to your apartment, when jeno grabs your forearm.

“wait!” you stop, “can i… can i ask you something?” 

flipping around expectantly, you blink and he swallows thickly, as if already knew the answer and didn’t really wanna hear it. either way, the words tumble from his mouth quickly. 

probably the most timid he’s sounded tonight, his voice is gravely and reserved when he asks, “is there something going on between you and mark?” 

that was not at all what you were expecting him to say. in fact, it’s the one thing you were hoping wouldn’t come up at all today.

you didn’t want to bring up mark for various reasons: firstly, there’s a very fine line between letting jeno in on the detail that mark also likes you–and that you like him–and explaining that that’s why you two can’t be together, and having him think that in telling him, you’re asking for permission to date his best friend. that’s something you’re incapable of even implying, because how fucking heartless and selfish would that be? secondly, you hadn’t even talked to mark yet, and you didn’t even know if the two of them had already discussed it. lastly, this conversation was supposed to be about jeno, and his feelings– and you’d feel like shit if you made it about anybody else.

you can’t help the way your eyes widen at his question, however, and you immediately blurt out “what? no!” 

nice. smooth. 

jeno cocks a brow up and you inhale shakily, “i mean, not really… or, at least not anymore.” he cocks an eyebrow at you and you purse your lips, shrugging, “i guess… for a moment there almost was, but then-” 

“then i confessed,” he nods in understanding. instantly, your eyes snap wide open and you hold an arm out. 

“yes, but it’s fine jen, i think it’s better that we didn’t-”

“you don’t,” your shoulders fall as he sighs, reading you like a book, “you don’t think it’s better.” his eyes flicker between yours, but you don’t have it in you to even try and refute him.

“you know,” he starts, “i had a feeling but i wasn’t too sure ‘cause you guys have always been really close.” 

“jeno…” 

there’s a lingering moment of silence, and you almost fear the mood has become sour and tense once more. you can’t seem to find your voice, or any words for that matter, and jeno walks closer until he’s less than a few feet away. he looks like he’s deep in thought for a flashing second, before his shoulders relax and he speaks up. 

“I think you should be together,” there’s no reluctance in his tone, no bitterness either, “not that you need my okay, because you don’t. but, if you’re worried about me, don’t be. i’ll be fine, I promise. besides, i’d hate to be the reason the two of you are forced to settle for a ‘what if.’” 

“just um,” he continues and for the first time, he speaks meekly, “give me a bit of time to recover before you guys start rubbing your happiness all over me,” 

oh. 

speechless and gawking at him with wide eyes, it takes a long minute before you manage to muster up a reply. jeno could have changed his mind a dozen times over by then. your heart is beating noticeably faster, sitting in your throat like a lump. 

“no,” you decide, “i can’t just do that to you.”

“it’s okay, y/n. i mean it. and thanks for coming by to talk abou-” 

“no, no,” you shake your head, “you don’t get it, i can’t–i won't do that to you, it’s not fair,” 

“I’d feel worse if you didn’t,” he admits, “like i’m keeping you from something. mark’s my best friend, so are you. what isn’t fair is keeping you guys from each other.” his eyes gleam sympathetically, and you blink a few times at him, “call him. talk to him, at least. he’s been down for a few days now. won’t come out of his room much while he’s home.” 

you nod slowly, “okay, i’ll do that,” 

“think about it, yeah?” 

“jeno, get dressed!” hyuck’s voice comes as a bit of a surprise as he bellows, stomping down the hall and towards his room, passing by jeno’s on the way, “we’re going for drinks with renjun. can you believe that fucker thinks he can drink more than me? and jaemin agrees! man, you think you know a guy,” his voice is slightly muffled now that he’s in his room, but he’s still yelling out, “my pride is hurt, so hurry up! we’re leaving in 10,” 

“besides, i’ve got hyuck to tend to. don’t know what he would do if my attention wasn’t on him all the time,” 

you stifle a laugh and weakly suggest, “crash and burn. come on, walk me out?” and jeno gives you a wide smile.

“o‘course,”

⋆ ★

if looks could kill, the scowl on mark’s face would’ve been your demise. he’s staring at you from the doorway of his front door, just as surprised to see you as you are to see him. 

nothing about today has gone right. it wasn’t until you got home last night that you realized you had left your phone on jeno’s dresser and by that time, it was too late to go back. more than likely, he didn’t notice either, or he would’ve dropped it off before going out for drinks. so, naturally, you had to stop by today to get it back.

you barely had time to think things over in regards to mark; part of you insists should continue to avoid him until you figure shit out–which obviously isn’t a possibility anymore since he’s standing right in front of you–and another part, was left tossing and turning in bed until the early hours of the morning, worried that mark would call or text you about something important and you wouldn’t be able to answer.   

that doesn’t matter now, anyway. mark is standing a foot away, eyes low and emotionless. he looks like he hasn’t had a proper sleep in days, and you don’t doubt that you look very different yourself. 

you’re the first to speak, mumbling a small, “hi,” which makes his chest rise and fall in a long sigh at the familiar sound of your voice–a sound that he missed dearly. 

“hi.” 

“i-” you start to speak again, before you realize, you have no idea what to say. 

are you supposed to apologize for dropping by unannounced or explain that the reason you couldn’t announce your visit was because you had left your phone here the day before? perhaps, he’s expecting an apology for the way you’ve been ignoring him, leaving him in the dark the last couple of days and refusing to reply to his many, many attempts to reach out. you’re not sure if he knew what happened yesterday, either. the point is: if all of these are things you need to say to him, which are you meant to say first? 

mark blinks at you until you offer him a sad, lopsided smile and shyly ask, “can i come in?” 

he doesn’t respond; instead, he brings a fist up to rub his tired eyes and moves aside to let you in.

“m’sorry,” you mumble, placing your bag down and slipping off your shoes. mark walks past you and sits on the couch a few feet away, brows slightly pinched down, “for a few things,” you mutter.

“i’m sorry, too,” he sighs, and you blink at him in surprise. 

“for what?” 

“for how i reacted the last time we were together. i couldn’t see things from your point of view until i really thought it through, and… you were right,” he admits defeatedly, voice hushed. “i’m also sorry for not being able to give you space when you asked for it. It’s just–you just mean a lot to me and the idea of you not wanting to talk to me really freaked me out.” 

“mark,” you coo softly. your feet carry you over to sit beside him, scooting closer until the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, knees bumping. when your lips part, your voice is airy and quiet, “you mean so, so much to me. I’m glad you didn’t give me space, i would’ve thought you hated me or something,” 

“i could never hate you,” he’s still looking at his lap, at the spot where his hands have come up to fidget mindlessly with his drawstrings. 

“–and sorry for not replying. that was childish of me,” 

mark lightly shakes his head, “no, dude, i get it.” 

“–and i would’ve mentioned i was dropping by, but i left my phone in jeno’s room after i came yesterday-“

“it’s fine, really—wait, you were here yesterday? with jeno?” his head snaps up.

“yeah, last night around seven.” 

“you were in his room?” 

“yes?” 

mark scoffs, a puff of air leaving his lips sharply. 

truly, mark didn’t mean to scoff. he meant to ask you “oh, how come?” or “hey, why you didn’t tell me?” but his questions are answered by his subconscious, and he’s not sure he liked what it had to say. he’d really like to think you didn’t come to—no. you wouldn’t… right? 

before he can add anything else, your expression twists into one of offense. 

“it wasn’t like that, mark.” you snap and he scoffs, again. 

“right, i’m sure it wasn’t.” 

instantly, you shoot up from your seat, arms crossing defensively, “it wasn’t,” you stress. mark runs a hand through his hair, huffing discontentedly, and you blink at him, “i just came to talk to him.” 

“before talking to me? i’m your best friend,” he replies. 

“yeah, but you’re not the one who had their feelings completely shot down,” 

mark stands to his full height, too, an incredulous look in his eyes, “oh, i’m not? he told you he liked you and you immediately changed your mind about us!” 

“that didn’t change my mind about us, mark. but honestly? this might,” you gesture between the two of you and spin on your heel to start making your way down the hall, “forget it. i’ll just get my phone and go,” 

with a huff, mark shoots up. 

“y/n,” he calls, but you ignore him. when you reach jeno’s bedroom door, you push it open and snatch your phone from the dresser. it was still in the very same spot you left it in, meaning hyuck probably dragged jeno out in a hurry. jeno also wasn’t here, which you were very grateful for right about now… it would have very been awkward to barge into his room if he was. 

you make a move to leave, but mark is hot on your trail, and when you turn back around, you almost bump right into his chest, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-” he tries, but you cut him off. 

“do you really think i’d do that to you? tell me, honestly.”

“i don’t,” he answers quickly. at the sight of tears pooling in your eyes, mark winces, and his arms wrap around you. you consider fighting his grip, but the truth is, you didn’t really want to. 

“i’m sorry, i’m so, so sorry,” he chants into your hair, holding you tightly against him, “i was just upset that you didn’t come to me first, but i swear didn’t mean any of that. don’t even know why i said it, fuck.”

your voice is no louder than a muffled squeak, “i just–i came to tell him i was sorry and that i didn’t feel the same way.”

mark’s breathing calms, and he squeezes you a bit tighter. 

“he asked about you, you know, about us. wanted to know if we were a thing,” 

“what did you say?” he asks gently, curiously, as to not come off any more accusatory than he already has. 

you pull back to look up at him and sniffle, “that we almost were, or that we would’ve been if–anyway, he said he was okay with us being together. and i was going to tell you,” you stress, “i just wanted to wait until all the tension died down; until after we talked and he had a chance to move on. I didn’t think our talk would go like this, though” 

as you finish speaking, mark presses his lips deeply into your forehead, repeating his apology softly. they linger there for a moment before he replaces them with his nose. he then leans down to press his forehead against yours, although he doesn’t move to take anything further. 

the tears that coat your eyelashes and stick them together make his heart clench within the confines of his ribs. he decides just then that the sight of you crying is his least favorite one. 

both of his hands hold your cheeks, inviting you to look up and into his eyes, “i need you to know that the most important thing to me, like, ever, is you. I know i haven’t done a great job of making that clear today,” he whispers, “but whatever you decide you want to do, and however slowly you wanna do it, i’m there.”

and then, you utter out the last set of words he thought he would be hearing from you in this moment. 

“i want to be with you,” at first, he thinks he may have misheard you, but when you nuzzle your cheek into his open palm and grab at his shirt to tug him closer, his breath hitches. 

“what?” 

“i still want to be with you,” you repeat, a little quieter this time. the tips of your ears have gone hot, “if you want to, i mean,” 

“i do,” he replies quickly, nodding, “i do, of course i do.” 

he lets his thumb brush your cheek, eyes dropping to your lips, they fly back to yours in a flash for any bit of hesitation, but he finds none. 

slowly, he leans in, and the very moment his lips take their place against yours, the tension in your shoulders dissipates. your knees buck, but he’s quick to slide an arm around your waist and hold you up. when his chest presses to yours, he wonders if you can feel his heart pounding. what he doesn’t know, is that you’re thinking the very same thing.   

your hands slip under his shirt, wandering along the expanse of his lower back. his skin is warm under your touch, and he can’t hold back the hum he feeds your parted lips when your nails dig their little crescent moons into him. 

“mark,” you whimper, but he doesn’t break the kiss even for a moment. he’d literally rather die. 

what he does do, is lean so far into your touch that the two of you stumble back into the wall, where his hand comes up to hold your head to block the impact. 

“let’s-mmm,” he kisses you again, lips smacking loudly against yours, “t’your…room,”

He slightly nods to let you know he understood, “yeah,” 

the two of you spin around until it’s you who’s slightly guiding him in the direction of his bedroom. when he hits the door, he reaches an arm back for the doorknob and twists it open, all but pulling you inside. and, finally, the two of you break apart for air, chests heaving wildly and pupils blown completely wide. 

he’s a pretty sight, gazing at you sweetly with heavy lids. a bit of spit hangs behind on the corner of mark’s mouth and you laugh softly, stealing another kiss and using your thumb to wipe it away. you let your hand stay there, pressed right against his warm cheek, and mark squeezes your hip. 

“i love you,” he utters suddenly. 

“yeah?”

“yeah.” he nods. 

“me, too. i love you, so much,” you reply, and his eyes disappear as he grins so wide that his nose scrunches up. his cheeks start flushing red and he dives down to hide his face in your neck. while his laughter tickles, it’s nowhere near the sensation of the kisses he leaves behind, wet and trailing along your shoulder and chest.  you gasp softly when his teeth graze you and he pulls back. 

“yo,” a small hum leaves your lips in reply and he shakes his head slightly, “i think you’ve gotta be the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen,” 

he kisses you again before you manage to respond to his compliment, walking with you until the back of your knees hits the edge of his bed. when you sit down and scoot back, mark settles between your legs, using his hand to hike your right leg up and around his waist. 

“take this off,” you mumble, tugging until the white shirt he wears is up and over his head. mark wastes no time in peeling your top off, too, large hands grabbing a hold of your hip and waist and breasts, all the while his mouth attaches to your skin. here, he stays for a bit, licking and nibbling as he pleases. 

there’s a warmth between your legs now, all of your nerves tingling as you lift your hips, hoping you’ll brush yourself against his front or his thigh. there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ve soaked through your panties. 

“i can’t believe i have you all to myself now, fuck,” 

“mark,” 

“yes?”

“please..” 

“please what, baby?” he coos, lifting his head up. behind, he leaves a purple mark on the part of your breast that pudges out of the cup of your bra. 

the sight makes you drool, “i need you, please. do something, anything,” nothing about your actions implies you have even a slight bit of patience left, and this doesn’t go unnoticed.

mark is gawking at you, lip tucked between his teeth harshly. he considers teasing you a bit more, but your pretty eyes that plead with him are too hard to not appease.

it’s short and sweet, the way he smiles and lands his lips on your cheek with a pop. at the same time, his hips meet yours, pulling a strangled moan from your throat. you claw at his shoulders, looking down to watch the way he rolls into you, dick swollen and bulging under the constraint of his pants. 

every inch of him presses onto you, your legs sneakily wrapping tighter around him. mark grunts and cups your jaw, pulling your mouth open slightly.

“stick your tongue out for me,” he instructs. 

when your eyes blink up at him curiously and your tongue sticks out, mark smirks, letting the spit he’s accumulated drop. the free hand that was previously wandering unhooks the top button of your bottoms, slipping inside to cup your heat.

somehow, it’s still not nearly enough. every touch makes you jolt in desperation, writhing beneath his hold. mark lets his lips mold over yours again, freely exploring your mouth, his middle finger continuously running over your underwear to feel your arousal.

“so wet,” he says against your lips. you nod eagerly, grinding into his hand.

“all for you, baby,”

“you want my mouth? or my fingers? tell me how you want me,”

when you shake your head, mark leans further back, confused, “baby,” you plead, “no foreplay, i need you inside of me so bad,” 

“i need to prep you, doll,”

“i’m already so worked up, look,” you insist, shimmying your shorts down. you grab his hand and move your underwear aside, pressing his fingers into you so that he can feel for himself.

“shit… you’re dripping,”

“please,” you whine out.

“are you sure?” 

“mark, yes. i’m literally begging you to fuck me.” 

“okay,” he laughs, “so needy, pretty girl,” a sloppy kiss is placed over your lips as he pulls off his joggers and underwear, your panties practically yanked off. you make quick work of your bra, unclipping it and tossing it aside. when his attention is back on you, his gaze falls to your chest in admiration.

“you’re perfect, all for me. all mine, baby.” he brushes your hair behind your ear and reminds you, “ i love you,” 

“i love you, but please, please,”

with a breathy laugh, mark lines himself up with your entrance. his thumb guides the head of his cock down until he’s collected some of your slick, a task that proves slightly difficult with your restless squirming. 

he’s about to order you to stay still when he presses into you and momentarily forgets how to speak. a shiver goes down his spine, and his eyes roll back at the feeling of sinking into your walls. 

you moan out loudly and mark hisses, desperately trying not to finish early.

the stretch doesn’t even hurt as much as you thought it would, but it does take some adjusting on both ends–you’re fluttering around him helplessly, sensitive and susceptible to his every move; meanwhile, mark’s tip continues slipping out and bumping your clit, before he manages to push himself back in.

“mmph, baby, you’re pushing me out,” 

“m’sorry,” you pant, “can’t help it,”

he manages to bottom out as you pull your knees to your chest. intrigued by your position, he grabs your calves to settle them over his shoulders, pushing you into a sort of mating press, one where he can still look down to where your bodies meet. it’s fucking dirty, the way you’re practically leaking, juices flowing down your ass and gathering on his sheets. 

with another experimental thrust, your pussy squelches and tightens around him. mark grunts out mindlessly, “i could fuck you forever,” and you nod, agreeing.

with every slow roll of his hips, your breathing grows more shallow. the angle he’s fucking you in is absolutely insane. there’s no containing the whimpers that fall from your lips when his fingers find your clit, rubbing slow circles on your sensitive bud.

“more, g-go faster, i can take it,”

he obliges immediately, rocking into you harder, and you realize how close you’ve actually been this whole time. you’re so turned on from the mere intimacy of this moment that in seconds, your jaw has gone slack, pleasure coursing through your body until it numbs your fingertips.

your mind is blank, and all you can manage to blabber are a few weak and strained chants of his name, followed by a string of praises and  “i love you’s.”

mark’s orgasm follows soon after, despite the way he tries so hard to hold it off. he tries to bite your leg as a distraction, or pinch your pointed nipple, anything to try to prolong the moment and work you until you’re pleasantly overstimulated, but it’s too late, because his breath has gotten caught in his throat.

his thrusts begin stuttering, his eyes are squeezed shut, and he’s coming so, so hard that his fingers are turning white where they grip your waist.

if he prepped you, he might have lasted just a tad longer, but he didn’t. mark knew he was done for the moment he entered you and you clenched around him.

“fuck yes, take it, baby, take it,” his cum shoots out in spurts within your folds and and he stops holding himself up, burrying himself all the way in your cunt, dick twitching uncontrollably. 

“you’re unbelievable,” he praises, working to steady the pace of his breathing.

a lazy grin finds your swollen lips, “that was really good,” you mutter, tiredly looking up at him through glossed over eyes.

as he moves to lean back, you make a noise of complaint, but he’s quick to soothe you. 

“shh, don’t worry. i’m only making sure you’re comfortable,” he brings your legs down from his shoulders so they can rest at his sides, and the ache you feel instantly be relieved makes you very grateful for his consideration. he doesn’t dare pull out, though, basking in your warmth until he’s gone completely soft. 

“you’re mine, yeah?”

“yes, baby,” you agree contently, tucking back a few strands of his hair so they don’t fall in his eyes, which bore at yours so tenderly.

“alright,” he kisses you, “and i’m yours,” 

ੈ♡˳

Life is funny in sick ways, because just a few minutes ago you were thinking about how badly you wanted to ride your best friend’s thighs but now that you were actually in a position to do so you couldn’t move. You were just straddling him, not even sure where to put your arms and shifting minimally scared that any movement against him could reveal how pathetically wet you were right now. I mean he had barely spoken a few words to you and you were putty in his hands, ready to give him anything that he asked for. So, why isn't he asking? Why isn't he doing something? He's the one who-...

Your train of thought came to an abrupt halt when his hands slid under your dress, grabbing a handful of your ass. A surprised yelp escaped your lips, almost sounding like a moan, and he seemed to like your reaction as he pressed his lips together to suppress a grin. Then he experimentally thrusted upwards, his hands keeping a firm grip on your ass, leaving no space between your clothed cores.

He took in your fucked out expression after every thrust as an invitation to keep doing it "M-mark…" you moaned, your nails practically carving into his shoulders.

Your head hung low, your hair acting like a curtain, blocking Mark's view from your flushed face. And he was not having it. He wanted to see you, he wanted to remember every little detail of you like this. So he grabbed a handful of your hair and gave it a gentle pull, making you lift your head. That put your neck in his line of sight, like a blank canvas he was ready to mark with his lips, leaving purples and reds behind.

He immediately latched his mouth on the space between your neck and clavicle, each kiss, bite and suck coaxing delicious moans from your throat, “F-fuck, keep…keep doing that” you managed to breathe out, your hands finding their way to his head. You attempted to grip his hair, but his haircut left you with little to grab onto. But that didn't stop you from trying, and he seemed to like it because as soon as you tugged, he groaned against your neck and sucked harder on a particular spot that sent tremors through your legs.

You were so focused on how good his mouth felt all over your skin that you completely missed the way his hand slid inside your panties. The sudden feeling of his fingers touching your folds making your brain short-circuit. So much so that you almost missed the words he whispered into your ear, “You’re already this wet just from a little teasing,” he tutted. 

His finger emerged from your panties, glistening with your arousal. That was a sight that would have embarrassed you under different circumstances but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about that, not when he brought his finger to his lips and licked every drop of your essence off it all while making eye contact. A whimper got caught in your throat as you watched, captivated by the way he tasted you.

"How will it feel when I fuck you for real then, hm?" 

Your thighs instinctively tightened against his after those words left his mouth. A reaction that wasn't lost on him. His flushed face sported an even cockier smirk now, "You'd like that huh?" he quipped, extending the finger he'd just licked toward your mouth. Without hesitation, you took it in, not caring about the mingling of his saliva with yours.

"But here's the thing," he continued, "You've gotta ask for it."

You were having a hard time paying attention to what he was saying. Your brain being more focused on his finger abusing your mouth and the subtle but persistent thrust of his hips against yours. His words seemed like distant echoes, drowned out by the sensations wrapping around you. That is, until a sudden slap against your bare ass jolted you back to reality. His voice was low and commanding, "Ask me to fuck you, doll."

His gaze bore into you, intense and almost predatory, "Please… fuck me, Mark," the plea slipped from your lips easily and before you could fully process your own words, he was lifting you up.  You expected him to take you to his room upstairs, but instead, he started walking right up to the big couch in front. 

Certainly he wasn’t planning to fuck you in the middle of the living room, where any of the boys could just walk in on the scene, right? Your hazy brain couldn't even remember if Jaemin had gone back to his room. The last you knew, he had been somewhere near the kitchen, possibly passed out. But if he were to walk in here and…

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by Mark lowering you onto the couch and immediately discarding your soaked panties. He spread your legs a little bit more and made eye contact with you right before his head was disappearing between your legs. Things were moving so fast but you couldn't bring yourself to think about the consequences of doing this right now when it felt so damn good.

The heat pulling in your lower stomach intensified as he used his nose to nudge against your entrance and with one swift move of his tongue against your core he had you losing your mind.

“Oh.. god-.. Mark… fuck…that feels so-” you tried to voice the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you but your words broke into fragmented moans and gasps.

Your fingers clenched in a tight grip on his short hair, urging him further against your core. You were so desperate and it was embarrassingly obvious. But you felt his chuckles resonate against your core, so he clearly found it amusing. His tongue danced and explored every sweet spot slowly, making you see sounds and hear colors. But, it wasn't enough. The ache inside you demanded more.

Your need for him to fuck you into tomorrow was almost unbearable.

"Mark…" you called out to him, but it seemed he was too focused on eating you out to hear you. His own desperation was also palpable, clear by the way his hips rutted against the couch. His fingers joined his tongue sliding inside you one by one. The simultaneous ministrations threatened to push you over the edge. If he kept up this pace, you would definitely cum all over his face.

His gaze locked onto yours immediately as he pulled away from your core. The sight of his swollen lips glistening with your arousal, and his hair sticking to his forehead leaving you with an image that would replay in your head for many nights to come.

"Are you close, doll?" his focus on your reactions intensified as he coaxed you, "Aw, look at your pretty fucked out face, cum for me, okay baby?"

His words and the relentless pumping of his fingers were enough to bring you over the edge of an explosive orgasm “Oh my go-," you moaned, your voice a chorus of curses mingled with his name.

This was the first time in your life you’d actually orgasmed after being asked to. His tongue wasn’t just good at eating your pussy, he was also good with words. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. But before you could fully recover, Mark grabbed your legs and quickly flipped you onto your stomach. Your dress was hiked up, baring your ass to him. Another firm slap echoed through the room, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed the hunger in his eyes as he looked over your curves, a satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you confirmed that Mark was very much an ass guy– Haechan owes you $10.

“Can’t believe my best friend is about to blow my back out," you muttered with an amused grin, the words directed more to yourself. However, Mark's snort indicated that he heard you loud and clear. "This is quite the bonding experience, don’t you think?," he said playfully and the boyish smile on his face didn’t quite match his actions. He pulled his dick out in one swift move and you felt almost embarrassed at how your mouth watered upon seeing his length and girth. You’re so glad he prepped you with his fingers before, otherwise you don’t think you could take all of him.

“What’s wrong? Never seen one this big?” you rolled your eyes. This was a side of Mark you hadn't seen before – this level of cockiness – but given what he was packing, you guess he had every right to flaunt it.

“How about you shut up and fuck me?” 

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” he seized your hips and gave them a teasing squeeze as he positioned himself at your entrance.

"Wait, shit"  he cursed under his breath, and you turned on time to see him run a hand frustratedly across his face "I don't have a condom,"

You grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward you. "I'll take the morning-after pill, just please, fuck me already.” the man didn’t need much convincing because before you knew it, he was gradually pushing himself inside you. 

The room echoed with his grunts and muffled moans as he pushed deeper inside. You struggled to stifle your own cries, but his generous stretch brought tears to your eyes, and your lip was surely going to bruise from the excessive biting.

"Shit... doll... you're... you're squeezing me so hard," he grunted, his fingers digging into your waist with a grip that promised to leave marks. Once he bottomed out, his hold on you relaxed. After the initial discomfort passed, you found yourself moaning at the intoxicating sensation of being filled completely. He gave you a brief moment to adapt to his size, peppering your backside with kisses before seeking your consent to move. And only after a strained "Please" escaped your lips, he started moving.

Though he started slow, his thrusts were anything but soft. The explicit sounds of your sticky bodies colliding filled the air, almost scandalously loud, and you couldn't help but wonder if the other guys could hear it from their rooms. It was almost as if Mark could read your mind, because he took hold of your jaw and drew you flush against his body. The change in position momentarily stifled your moans. “If you keep being this loud, the guys will surely hear how good I’m fucking you right now…” he bit your lower lip, drawing a weak whimper from you.

“But maybe that's what you want, huh? You like the idea of them hearing?… hmm.. Look how nicely you're clenching around me after I put that thought in your pretty, twisted mind.” He thrusted hard against you, this new position putting extra pressure on your muscles and you felt like you might collapse any second, but Mark was so in tune with your body language that he noticed this and swiftly flipped you over again. 

Now face to face, you had an unobstructed view of Mark Lee thrusting into you. A faint furrow adorned his forehead, and his flushed complexion extended from his neck to his cheeks. It also struck you that he had taken off his shirt somewhere along the way, exposing the expanse of his soft skin. Seizing the opportunity, your hands roamed freely across his torso, fingers tracing the contours you'd always secretly admired. You wanted to kiss it and bite it, and what was stopping you? You pulled Mark closer to you by his necklace and this sudden closeness seemed to have caught him off guard because his pace faltered a bit, you took this chance to start leaving a trail of kisses on his chest and collarbones. The soft moans he emitted as your lips grazed his skin were almost enough to send you over the edge once more. Your erratic pace was matching his unhurried thrusts as your hips met in the middle. In response, he snatched one of your legs, hoisting it onto his shoulder to penetrate even deeper.

“Shi–... you feel so, so fucking good, doll.” Mark groaned against your ear. Your eyes met as you tried to pull him impossibly closer by the hips, and at that moment you wished that eyes could talk because he was looking at you in a way he never had before. Good sex did funny things to people, you were probably his favorite person right now, if the way he was smiling like an idiot was any indication. 

“Wha..what?” you asked, trying to match his smile but the way he kept hitting that specific spot had your expressions morphing in pleasure. “Be honest… how-..fuck... how long have you wanted me to fuck you?” he said, his eyes shifting from yours to the point where your bodies joined, the sight of his dick pumping in and out of you enough to make him want to go crazy.

"T-this isn’t the time for that," you managed to say, your head lolling back until it met the plush surface of the couch behind you.

“You know…you could’ve just told me earlier… cause now I regret not fucking you before,” he confessed, his words punctuated by the exertion in his voice. Without waiting for your response, he bunched up your dress, exposing your chest. His eyes lit up as they fell upon your naked breasts, and a satisfied "Knew it" slipped from his lips. 

"Wearing that flimsy dress and no bra… did you really think I wouldn't notice?" he tutted while cupping your breast. The cool touch against your warm skin made you release an involuntary moan "You think the boys didn’t notice?" he chuckled bitterly and took one of your nipples between his forefingers, his gaze unflinching as he watched your mouth fall open in response. 

"But this was for me, wasn't it? All that innocent act in front of them, while secretly wanting me to fuck you so bad.” you whimpered in response, unable to respond or deny what he was saying because it was in part true.

“You were practically drooling at the thought of me touching you like this," he grunted and suddenly took that same nipple into his mouth, alternating between nibbling and sucking. “M-Mark, oh my go–...” The words were cut short when he began to thrust into you harder, his hips meeting yours more desperately now.

He pulled away from your breast slightly to whisper a stream of dirty nothings against your skin. You only caught the words little slut and the surprise of such a term rolling off his tongue only served to turn you on even more. Your walls instinctively tightened around him, a reaction that had him sucking your nipple even harder. 

“Shit… If you-…if you keep squeezing me so hard… I’m gonna-“ he could barely speak, his words being lost between every thrust and the feeling of your pussy taking him so well.

Mark was pretty damn sure he'd never been this pussy drunk before. He was even fighting to hold off his own orgasm just so he could bask a bit longer on how your walls were deliciously clenching around him. And oh, the view. You sprawled beneath him, disheveled yet so beautiful. Your flushed cheeks and lips, slightly swollen from your own nibbling. Bangs pushed back from your face revealing those pretty eyes that struggled to stay fixed on his. They rolled with pleasure every time he found that sweet spot. And he couldn't ignore how your tongue darted out every now and then to moisten your lips, tempting him to bridge the gap between your mouths.

“Mark.. I—I’m c…I’m cumming,” you said, grabbing onto his neck for support.

 "Me too, ah... wh-where do you want it?" he managed to ask between ragged breaths, his wide eyes strangely innocent amid the frenetic rhythm of his thrusts.

“Inside,” you said, and a glint of something flashed through his eyes. 

All of a sudden he closed the gap between your faces, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that matched the intensity of his thrusts. It stole your breath quicker than you'd care to admit. His tongue asserted itself without hesitation, as if it already knew the contours of your mouth intimately. You nipped at his lower lip juts like he did to you earlier, catching him off guard. To this, he let out a guttural whimper that would definitely linger in your mind for days to come. Mark's moans had a mix of whininess and a deep resonance that struck you at your core and you wanted to hear more of it so you kept kissing him hard. His moans became your own as your kiss deepened.

Your orgasm came first, your cries muffled by Mark's mouth. He followed suit not long after, his thrusts growing sloppier. Then, he stopped completely and you felt him filling you to a brim. You both looked down at the same time to see the messy evidence of both of your releases mixing. You immediately regretted doing this on the couch when he pulled out from you and the sticky mess spilled out of you. 

But you decided that would be a problem for your sober self to deal with later.

~~

Sober you wasn't exactly managing the situation well.

Waking up after having drunk sex with your best friend of 12 years in the living room of the dorm he shared with your 6 other best friends didn’t turn out to be the chill moment drunk you thought it would be. 

And the way his hand was casually resting on your ass, coupled with the feeling that you'd been run over by a truck about twenty seven times, certainly didn't contribute to improving your state.

You reach over to his side and grab the pillow under his head. Then, you give his body a careful nudge, turning him around slightly which oddly enough doesn’t even make him stir a little. You climb on top of him, pressing the pillow down on his face just enough to jolt him awake, without actually cutting off his air supply. His arms flail in confusion for a solid five seconds before you lift the pillow, revealing a bewildered yet still half-asleep Mark.

"What the fuck…" was his initial reaction, though it took him a moment more to fully register the scene– you sitting on top of him, only a pillow covering your nakedness.

"Yeah, exactly, what the fuck," you gesture between the two of you, highlighting the rather interesting scenario.

A few seconds of just silently staring at each other went by while you could see in his eyes that he was trying to come up with what to say now.

"Uh… wanna go again?" he joked, and you respond with a playful pillow thwack, prompting a chuckle from him.

"Just kidding!"

a/n: after editing this i realized how many times i wrote the word ass and i feel ashamed lol... also the ending is kinda bleh cuz i genuinely dunno how to end my fics but i hope yall liked this! let me know in the comments how it was! xx

part 1