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Determined to preserve their kind, the third generation of flower fairies came together and established a flower shop dedicated to nurturing fairy blossoms.

Thus, Sunny Bunny Flora was born.

More than a flower shop, it served as a sanctuary where new fairies could safely bloom and begin their lives, and to ensure the continuation of their species, the fairies also upheld an important tradition. Every fairy was required to study human life, and only after passing a test would they be entrusted with their own flower shop somewhere else in the world, continuing the cycle for future generations.

And today marked the beginning of spring.

Joshua, a fairy born during winter, had officially taken charge of the flowers destined to bloom this season while also caring for the summer blossoms still waiting beneath the soil. The greenhouse was quiet as he watered rows of young sprouts, then something caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a flower bud trembling vigorously. It shook once, twice, then even harder, as though whatever was trapped inside was desperately trying to escape.

Joshua smiled knowingly. Setting down his watering can, he crouched beside the struggling bud and waited patiently.

"Someone's eager," he murmured.

The flower quivered one final time before bursting open, a tiny fairy shot out like an arrow, straight into Joshua's face.

"Ow-"

The newborn fairy bounced off his forehead and tumbled toward the ground, and Joshua quickly caught her before she could land, a laugh escaped him as he looked down at the partially unconscious fairy resting in his palm.

"You really shouldn't be in such a hurry to come out."

In front of him, the flower that had birthed her unfolded completely: a daffodil. Its golden-yellow petals glowed brightly beneath the morning sunlight, bringing warmth and color to everything around it. Healthy, beautiful, and perfect.

Joshua carefully placed the newborn fairy onto a soft cloth before gently patting the excess moisture from her delicate wings.

"Rest for now," he said.

Once he was certain she was comfortable, he returned to his work. After all, if a daffodil fairy had bloomed on the first day of spring, it wouldn't be long before the rest of the spring flowers followed.

A few minutes later, the tiny fairy stirred awake. Slowly, she sat up and blinked and looked around.

Well, that certainly was one way to say hello. To be fair, it wasn't the first time a newborn fairy had reacted like this. So, shall we introduce her properly?

Everyone, say hello to Y/N.

The moment Y/N opened her eyes, fear flashed across her face.

Of course she was frightened.

Before blooming, all she had ever known was darkness. Now, for the first time, she was seeing light—colors, shapes, lively. Everything around her felt overwhelmingly vivid, yet despite her fear, curiosity soon began to take over.

Her eyes darted everywhere. She wanted to touch everything, explore everything, ask questions about everything, and most of all, she wanted to fly. Unfortunately, the moment she tried lifting her wings, they drooped—still damp, still too weak.

As she was testing them, a door nearby opened. Joshua emerged carrying a sack of fertilizer over his shoulder.

"Oh," he said, noticing her awake. "You're up."

He carefully set the sack down.

Y/N stared, and stared… and stared.

Now, she couldn't actually speak yet.

Newborn fairies didn't develop their voices immediately, but if she could speak, she would probably be saying something like-

"Oh my gosh, hi! Who am I? Who are you? Wait, never mind, I know who I am. I'm a daffodil fairy! A spring fairy! Are you my father? My mother? No, you're probably not my mother. Are you a fairy too? Why are you so tall? Why is everything so big? What is that sack? What's outside? Can I fly? Can I-"

Actually, Y/N spent the next thirty minutes continuing that train of thought, so for everyone's sanity, we'll skip the rest.

Joshua watched her silently. As a fairy himself, he recognized the signs immediately. And the way she stared at him made it obvious that an entire conversation was taking place inside her head. Eventually, after enduring several minutes of uninterrupted mental rambling, Joshua scratched the back of his neck. The atmosphere had become surprisingly awkward.

"I feel like you're saying a lot right now," he admitted.

Y/N blinked.

Joshua walked past her and pulled open one of the greenhouse drawers. Inside sat a glass carafe filled with bright red liquid, beside it were several tiny cups designed specifically for newborn fairies.

Oh!

That's strawberry nectar. The traditional fruit drink used to help young fairies develop their voices, and now we get to watch Y/N drink it like a toddler having her first cup of milk.

Joshua poured a small serving and handed it to her.

After she finished every last drop, he smiled.

"You can try speaking now," he said. "But don't overdo it. Your vocal cords haven't fully formed yet, so take it slowly."

Y/N opened her mouth, and a soft, sweet voice emerged,beautiful and clear despite being brand new. Then, without hesitation, she asked,

"As I was saying earlier... can you give me a name?"

Joshua paused thoughtfully.

Hmm… Joshua, if you can hear me, I've already picked one, and it suits her perfectly.

Joshua nodded to himself as though he had somehow heard the suggestion, then he looked at the tiny fairy and smiled.

"I'll call you Y/N."

There we go.

And that, dear readers, is the story of how Y/N was born.

-

Y/N turned out to be a talkative fairy. A very, very talkative fairy. And unfortunately for Joshua, he was the only other living being around most of the time, which meant he had to endure every single one of her thoughts.

Every.

Single.

One.

As Joshua worked with soil, watered flowers, trimmed leaves, and organized supplies, Y/N floated around him like a tiny yellow shadow. Sometimes she talked about the weather, sometimes she talked about how beautiful Sunny Bunny Flora was, sometimes she talked about why bees were fuzzy, sometimes she talked about why flower pots were round, and sometimes she talked about absolutely nothing at all.

Joshua honestly couldn't keep track anymore. The only trick he had discovered was simple: Whenever Y/N paused, he hummed. Whenever she asked a question, he hummed. Whenever she asked something that had no answer, he hummed. Whenever she asked something that had an answer, he hummed.

It worked surprisingly well.

To Y/N, every hum sounded like active participation.

To Joshua, it allowed him to finish his work in relative peace.

"...and that's why I think butterflies and flowers are probably best friends," Y/N concluded.

"Mhm."

"Do you think so too?"

"Mhm."

"What if they secretly dislike each other?"

"Mhm."

Y/N narrowed her eyes, and Joshua froze. Slowly, she pointed at him.

"You weren't listening."

Joshua immediately looked away. A very guilty reaction, if you ask me. Before Y/N could launch into another speech, she suddenly sighed dramatically and flopped onto a nearby flower pot.

"So when will the other spring fairies be born?" she whined. "I'm bored."

Coincidentally, Joshua had just finished mixing soil.

Perfect timing.

He stood up, dusting dirt from his gloves.

"Huh?" he asked.

"The spring fairies."

"Oh." Joshua removed his gloves and glanced toward the rows of spring flowers waiting to bloom. "Probably in a few days."

"A few days?"

"Maybe."

Y/N gasped as if he had announced the end of the world. "A few days is forever!"

Joshua continued calmly. "Or next week."

"NEXT WEEK?!"

"Depends."

"On what?"

Joshua shrugged. "Whether they want to come out or not."

Y/N blinked.

The answer made perfect sense. It also made absolutely no sense.

"But I came out on the first day of spring."

"That's because you're a daffodil." Joshua washed his hands at the sink. "Daffodils are usually the first few flowers to bloom. Which means daffodil fairies are usually the first few fairies to be born."

Y/N considered this seriously, then another question appeared, because of course it did. "Who decided that?"

Joshua paused. "No idea."

"Someone must have."

"Nope."

"Then who appointed daffodils to be first?"

"No one."

"There has to be someone."

"There doesn't."

"There does.

"There doesn't."

"There does."

"There doesn't."

"There-"

The greenhouse door opened, then closed.

Joshua escaped. Just like that, leaving Y/N staring at the door in disbelief.

"...he ran away."

Yes. Yes, he did.

Y/N pouted so hard her cheeks nearly doubled in size. For several seconds, she remained suspended in the air, arms crossed, then she huffed.

"Fine."

If Joshua wasn't going to answer her questions, she would find answers herself. That was definitely a wonderful idea, absolutely nothing could go wrong.

Y/N fluttered down onto the ground and wandered through the greenhouse.

Rows of spring flowers greeted her on one side. Rows of summer flowers occupied the other. Many were still sleeping beneath the soil, waiting for their season to arrive.

The newborn fairy slowly walked between the pots, reading each tiny label aloud.

"Lavender."

She moved to the next.

"Sunflower."

Then another.

"Cosmos."

"Zinnia."

"Hibiscus."

The names felt magical on her tongue. Each pot held a future fairy she had yet to meet. Future friends, future conversations, victims of her endless talking.

Actually, let's not tell them that part yet.

Y/N continued wandering between the rows of flower pots until one particular bloom caught her attention. Unlike the other spring flowers, its petals had already opened. Curious, she fluttered closer and lowered herself onto the edge of the pot. Then she noticed something lying on the soil.

A fairy.

"Oh!"

Y/N nearly fell forward. She quickly steadied herself before peering over the rim of the pot. There, sprawled among the soft soil, was a tiny fairy, fast asleep. Its wings glistened with moisture, still sticking together from birth.

Y/N immediately looked up at the flower above them.

The blossom was fully open, revealing vibrant blue petals swaying gently in the greenhouse breeze. Then she looked down at the small wooden label stuck into the soil.

"Siberian Squill."

She carefully sounded out each word, and blinked.

Wait... that means-

"A spring fairy!"

Her eyes sparkled.

Another spring fairy had been born, and judging by the condition of their wings, very recently.

Y/N leaned closer.

The fairy was still completely unconscious.

Well, that made sense. Their wings were far wetter than hers had been when she woke up. In fact, they looked as though they had only just emerged from their flower.

Y/N glanced toward the greenhouse door, Joshua was nowhere to be seen, then she looked back at the Siberian Squill blossom. Slowly, the pieces came together.

"Oh."

The flower must have bloomed after Joshua left. The newborn fairy had probably slipped right out of the flower and landed onto the soil below, and since nobody was around to catch them...

Y/N looked at the sleeping fairy, then at the soil, then back at the fairy.

"...that looks uncomfortable."

The fairy remained asleep, apparently not bothered in the slightest.

Y/N rested her chin on her hands. For the first time since her birth, there was another fairy in the greenhouse.

Someone born after her, someone who was technically younger than her. Not by much, by two days. But still, that counted.

Which meant...

Y/N sat up straighter.

"I think this makes me a senior."

No, it did not, not even a little, but nobody was awake to argue with her.

The fairy shifted slightly in their sleep. Y/N gasped and immediately scooted closer.

"Hello."

No response.

"My name is Y/N."

Nothing at all.

"I'm a daffodil fairy."

"I was born before you."

Yet Y/N nodded proudly.

"See? I'm already teaching you important things."

The sleeping fairy remained completely unaware that the first person they had ever met was a self-appointed senior who had decided they were now friends.

Whether they agreed or not would be a problem for later… preferably after they woke up.

-

The weeks passed surprisingly quickly. Well… perhaps not for Joshua. For him, every day felt approximately three times longer than it should have, thanks to one very specific daffodil fairy.

Y/N.

Somewhere between welcoming newborn fairies, asking endless questions, and appointing herself as everyone's friend, Y/N had somehow managed to achieve something nobody had asked for. She became the leader of the spring fairies. Why? Because she was the first one born. That was it, that was her entire qualification. According to Y/N, being born first automatically made her the most experienced spring fairy. According to everyone else, including Joshua, that logic made absolutely no sense.

Unfortunately, Y/N was very persuasive, or perhaps the other newborn fairies simply lacked the energy to argue with her. Either way, within a month, the title had somehow stuck.

Joshua often found himself watching the situation unfold from the sidelines, and Y/N would gather the spring fairies together and make announcements—important announcements such as:

"We should all take afternoon naps."

Or:

"As your leader, I have decided that strawberry nectar is the best nectar."

Or:

"Any objections?"

There were never any objections, mostly because nobody cared enough to object, and Joshua simply watched the entire thing like a human watching a television drama.

At this point, interfering would only make things funnier.

As Y/N gradually grew accustomed to life outside her flower bud, Joshua began shifting his attention toward something more important: her education. After all, every fairy eventually had to take the Fairy Qualification Test, and that meant learning how humans lived.

Fortunately for Joshua, Y/N was an eager student, yet unfortunately for Joshua, Y/N was also Y/N.

"Why does two drops of nectar plus two drops of nectar equal four drops of nectar?" she complained.

Joshua sighed, here we go again.

"Nectar is delicious."

"That's true."

"So I think it should become ten drops instead."

"...that's not how mathematics works."

"Why not?"

"Because numbers don't care about your feelings."

Y/N looked deeply offended by that statement, and Joshua continued writing equations on the board.

He had expected this. In fact, he had prepared for this. Over the next two months, he patiently taught her everything a fairy needed to know before managing a flower shop.

Mathematics, human needs, basic healthcare, problem-solving, business management, taxes, human reproduction, social customs, and countless other topics.

Some lessons went smoothly, others ended with Joshua questioning every life decision that had led him to becoming an instructor.

"Humans pay taxes?"

"Yes."

"Voluntarily?"

"No."

"Oh."

That response explained far more than any textbook could. Still, despite the occasional headache she caused him, Y/N learned quickly. Incredibly quickly, actually. Her curiosity, while exhausting, made her eager to understand everything. She absorbed information like a flower absorbing sunlight, and by the end of the second month, she had matured considerably.

…Well, mostly.

Academically, she had improved tremendously. Emotionally? She was still the self-proclaimed leader of the spring fairies, just a slightly smarter one.

And today marked the completion of her education, now all that remained was the test. The Fairy Qualification Test would take place one week before the first day of summer, and the results would be announced the day before summer officially began.

Pass, and she would move one step closer to managing her own flower shop.

Fail...

Well, let's not think about that.

Y/N wandered through the greenhouse afterward, admiring the familiar scenery.

Most of the spring flowers had already bloomed, and nearly every spring fairy had been born. The greenhouse felt alive with laughter and conversation. Meanwhile, the summer flowers were beginning to awaken, many were entering the blooming stage.

As she walked, one particular flower caught her attention: Sunflower.

Y/N stopped, and stared.

The sunflower plant wasn't blooming yet.

Something about it made her pause, something she couldn't quite explain, and for several moments, she simply stood there, before a gentle nudge against her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts.

Seokmin, the Siberian Squill fairy that she had discovered sleeping in the soil all those weeks ago.

"Why are you staring at the sunflower?" he asked.

Y/N looked back at the plant, then shrugged.

"I don't know."

Which was unusual, Y/N almost always had an answer.

"Just got a feeling that..." Her voice trailed off, a strange sensation lingered in her chest. After a moment, she shook her head. "Never mind."

Seokmin raised an eyebrow, and Y/N turned away, began walking again.

Now, I don't want to spoil anything, but if a spring fairy keeps staring at a future summer flower for no reason whatsoever... Well, there might be a chance that a certain summer fairy and a certain spring fairy are destined to cross paths. Just a possibility, of course… a very suspicious possibility.

-

Time, as it often did, flew by.

The Fairy Qualification Test came, and went. And despite her dramatic complaints, her endless questions, and her tendency to accidentally turn every lesson into a debate, Y/N passed quite easily, because even though Y/N may have been chaotic, she had always been intelligent.

Curiosity was, after all, one of the best teachers.

The day after the results were announced, Joshua led her toward a room she had never entered before. For once in her life, Y/N followed without asking a single question. It is a remarkable achievement, a historic moment, really.

The room itself was surprisingly empty. At its center stood a large sleeping capsule made of silver metal and glass. The structure stretched almost from floor to ceiling, humming softly with magic.

Y/N stared at it, then pointed.

"I will sleep in that?" After listening to Joshua explain the capsule's purpose, she looked even more uncertain.

Joshua nodded. "Yep."

"In this giant sleeping capsule?"

Joshua chuckled. "It only looks giant because you're tiny."

That was fair, everything looked giant to fairies.

"The capsule will help your body transition."

"Transition?"

"Into a human."

Y/N blinked.

"Oh."

Joshua leaned against the nearby control panel.

"You'll grow to around my size."

"Oh."

Her voice became noticeably smaller. For the first time that day, the excitement faded from her face, and Joshua noticed immediately. Of course he did, he had spent months teaching her, he knew exactly when she was thinking too much.

Y/N looked down at her tiny hands, then at her delicate wings, then at the greenhouse visible through the room's glass window.

The realization finally settled in. Growing up meant moving forward, moving forward meant responsibility. Responsibility meant leaving—well, not completely, but enough. The spring fairies would continue blooming, new fairies would continue being born, life would continue moving. And for the first time since her own birth, she wouldn't be part of every moment.

She took a slow breath before looking up.

"Can I take the sunflower pot afterward?"

Joshua raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" The request caught him off guard. "Why?"

Y/N shrugged.

"Just got a feeling."

Joshua glanced toward her knowingly.

"You like the sunflower?"

Y/N immediately looked away, Joshua smirked.

Ah, that answered everything.

"Sure."

Y/N looked back at him.

"Really?"

"Really." He folded his arms. "Might as well make it your first plantation."

A smile immediately returned to her face. "Thanks."

Joshua nodded, then gestured toward the capsule.

"So." His voice softened. "Are you ready?"

Y/N opened her mouth, paused, and closed it again, then pointed toward the greenhouse.

"Remind me to say goodbye to everyone afterward."

Joshua smiled.

"You can visit whenever you want."

"I know." Her voice became quieter. "But I have a feeling I'll miss them."

Y/N looked at the capsule again, then immediately turned around.

"Actually."

Joshua narrowed his eyes. Here we go again...

"Let me take a group photo first."

Joshua sighed.

"I knew there was a reason you weren't getting in."

"I might miss my current fairy size."

"You just want to delay the process."

"Is it that obvious?"

Joshua nodded.

"Extremely."

Y/N laughed sheepishly, yet despite knowing exactly what she was doing, Joshua stepped aside. Because sometimes delaying something wasn't about fear, sometimes it was about appreciating what was about to end. So Y/N spent the next hour with the spring fairies; photos were taken, stories were shared, promises were made—Seokmin somehow ended up getting dragged into at least half the pictures. Nobody knows how.

Eventually, however, even the longest goodbye had to end. The capsule remained waiting, and this time, Y/N walked toward it without hesitation and turned around. The gathered fairies followed behind her had come to see her off as they hovered in the air, smiling.

Y/N smiled back a little sadly, nervously, but mostly gratefully, then she looked at Joshua and nodded.

"I'm ready."

Joshua returned the nod. Without another word, he closed the capsule door, a series of locks clicked into place. The machine hummed louder. Y/N pressed her hand against the glass. The fairies pressed their tiny hands against it from the other side. Then Joshua pressed a button, followed by a soft sleeping mist that filled the capsule. Y/N's eyelids immediately became heavy, her vision blurred. The last thing she saw was a crowd of familiar faces smiling at her, then darkness. Sleep claimed her almost instantly, the transformation began. Magic surged through the capsule, light filled the chamber.

Outside, the fairies watched in awe. Y/N's body slowly grew, her tiny fairy form stretched larger, wings shinking smaller, and within minutes, the size difference became obvious. Moments more, she had become fully human with wings gone.

The process was always fascinating to watch, no matter how many times Joshua had seen it.

Finally, the light faded. The machine fell silent, a loud hiss echoed throughout the room, steam burst from the seams of the capsule, the door unlocked automatically but slowly. The chamber opened. Inside lay Y/N peacefully asleep. Joshua glanced down at the excited fairies fluttering around him. Their wings buzzed so quickly that some of them were practically vibrating, and he chuckled.

"Relax." Nobody relaxed. "Y/N won't wake up for a few hours."

Finally, the fairies reluctantly nodded. One by one, they followed Joshua out of the room.

The door closed behind them, and for the first time since she was born from a daffodil on the first day of spring, Y/N was completely alone, waiting to wake up and begin the next chapter of her life.

Slowly, Y/N opened her eyes, and immediately, she sat upright. Or at least, she tried to, because unfortunately, she underestimated how much bigger she was now, and her head nearly collided with the capsule glass door.

"Ow."

Wow, what a wonderful start.

Y/N rubbed her forehead before staring down at her hands. They looked... big—well, not giant, but just normal human-sized. Curiously, she looks away from her hands and outside the glass door, then froze. The world looked different. The countertop across the room, once impossibly high above her, was now directly within reach. She steps out of the capsule and slowly walks towards it, stretching out her arm as her fingers touched the countertop effortlessly.

Then something else occurred to her. Y/N twisted around, nothing. She reached behind herself, absolutely nothing.

"My wings?" She spun around again. "My wings?!"

Panic immediately set in, Y/N hurried toward the standing mirror positioned beside the capsule. The reflection staring back at her made her gasp. Her appearance hadn't changed—her hair was the same, her eyes were the same, her face was the same; she was still Y/N. And yet... gone was the tiny fairy who could fit comfortably in Joshua's palm, the delicate wings resting behind her back.

Now she stood tall almost exactly Joshua's height.

The gasp she let out this time echoed throughout the room, apparently loud enough for someone outside to hear. The door opened and Joshua stepped inside. The first thing he saw was Y/N twisting her body left and right, attempting to inspect every angle of herself at once. The second thing he noticed was that she was trying to look over her own shoulder for wings that no longer existed.

"I see you're awake."

Y/N immediately pointed behind herself.

"My wings are gone!"

"Yes."

"My wings are gone!"

"...yes."

"My wings are gone!"

Joshua nodded patiently. "They are indeed gone."

Y/N looked horrified. "How am I supposed to reach things that are too high now?"

Joshua stared then pointed at himself.

"Do you see wings on me?"

"...No."

"And yet I somehow survive every day."

Y/N opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"...but..."

Joshua's grin widened.

"Looks like someone is going to have some trouble living without wings."

The moment he walked past her, Y/N immediately puffed her cheeks. A very childish reaction for someone who had just become an adult. But then again, she had only existed for a few months. We'll give her some time.

Pouting, she followed Joshua out of the room. Their footsteps echoed through the greenhouse halls. Y/N was still getting used to having legs this long, and several times she nearly tripped over absolutely nothing. Eventually she caught up beside him.

"So where's my flower shop?"

Joshua reached into his bag and handed her a folded map.

"The red circle."

Y/N eagerly opened it. There, circled neatly in red ink, was her destination. Joshua then handed her a checklist.

"And before you ask-"

"I'm asking."

"I know." He sighed. "I taught you how to drive."

"You did."

"But to legally drive, you'll need a license."

Y/N nodded.

"A test..."

"A test."

"Another test…?"

"Another test."

Y/N groaned dramatically, Joshua ignored her.

"Don't worry. You'll pass." He paused. "Assuming you don't start arguing with the examiner about nectar mathematics."

"That happened one time."

"It happened seventeen times."

Y/N chose not to comment, all while Joshua reached into his bag once more and handed her a sealed envelope. Curious, she opened it.

Inside was a stack of cash, a credit card, and several documents.

Y/N's eyes widened.

"So much money."

"Not really."

"It feels like a lot."

Joshua pointed at her.

"Don't spend it all."

Y/N immediately replied, "Save money, budget properly, separate necessities from wants, and prepare emergency funds."

Joshua blinked, then smiled proudly.

"Looks like you were listening after all."

"I always listen."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. The look alone was enough to expose that lie, and Y/N quickly changed the topic. "So."

Joshua already knew where this was going.

"Yes?"

"Can I grab the sunflower pot now?"

Joshua rolled his eyes.

Of course… of course that was her priority.

"So all you care about is the sunflower pot?"

Y/N made an exaggerated offended face, then shook her head.

"No."

Joshua waited.

"I have to say goodbye to everyone too."

"And?"

"And what?"

Joshua crossed his arms.

"What about me?"

For the first time since waking up, Y/N fell silent and let out a genuine smile. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Joshua froze for half a second before returning the hug.

"Thank you, Shua." Her voice was quieter than usual. "For everything."

After all, Joshua had been there from the moment she burst out of her daffodil. He had taught her, guided her, tolerated her (which might have been the hardest task of all)

"And goodbye."

Joshua chuckled. "It's not goodbye."

Y/N pulled away.

"Right." She smiled. "I'll visit."

The rest of the day passed quickly. Photos were taken, goodbyes were exchanged, promises to visit were made. Seokmin reminded her not to forget them after becoming a successful shop owner, Y/N immediately declared that forgetting her spring fairy friends was impossible. And eventually, it was time to leave. Joshua loaded her belongings into the car, and Y/N carefully settled into the passenger seat, resting on her lap was a sunflower pot.

The journey began.

As the car moved through the streets, Y/N pressed herself against the window like an excited child. Every building fascinated her, every person fascinated her, every passing vehicle fascinated her. Joshua wasn't sure if she blinked during the entire drive.

Finally, the car slowed to a stop, and Y/N looked up.

A flower shop stood before her.

Joshua stepped out first, Y/N followed, carefully carrying the sunflower pot.

For a moment, neither spoke, then Joshua smiled.

"You'll do fine."

Y/N smiled back.

"I know."

Joshua laughed, of course she would say that.

With one final wave, he returned to the car, and drove away, leaving Y/N standing alone on the sidewalk. Slowly, she unlocked it.

The bell above the entrance chimed softly as she stepped inside, dust floated through beams of sunlight, empty shelves lined the walls, the space was quiet. Y/N carefully placed the sunflower pot near the front window before planting both hands on her hips. Her eyes scanned every corner of the shop, and a grin slowly spread across her face.

"Looks like it's decorating time."

And just like that, the owner of a brand-new flower shop officially began her journey.

-

The first few weeks of running her flower shop during the summer were busy, because apparently, being a flower shop owner involved significantly more responsibilities than Y/N had imagined. There were flowers to care for, supplies to order, customers to greet, bills to pay, and occasionally, mysterious paperwork that seemed determined to multiply whenever she wasn't looking.

Joshua had warned her, she simply hadn't believed him.

At the moment, Y/N was watering a row of summer flowers while waiting for a delivery truck to arrive.

The shop was quiet and peaceful. Sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing the room in a warm golden glow. Everything felt normal, until it wasn't. From the corner of her eye, Y/N noticed movement. A flower bud trembled, and Y/N immediately froze.

No way.

The watering can nearly slipped from her hand as she hurried over. The bud continued shaking, then, with a soft pop, The flower bloomed. Bright yellow petals unfolded toward the sunlight, and a tiny fairy tumbled out straight onto the soil below.

"Oh!"

Y/N quickly set down the watering can and crouched beside the flower pot. The fairy remained motionless, exactly as she had been when she first emerged from her daffodil.

Y/N smiled, then looked at the flower.

Sunflower.

The realization struck instantly.

Her sunflower. The very same sunflower pot she had carried all the way from Sunny Bunny Flora, that she had watched for weeks before leaving, that had given her that strange feeling she could never explain. And now, its fairy had finally been born.

Carefully, Y/N scooped up the tiny fairy from the soil. The newborn was still damp from blooming, their wings sticking together from moisture. She carried them over to a miniature bed specifically prepared for future fairy births.

A very important purchase, according to Y/N.

An unnecessary purchase, according to her budget. The budget lost that argument.

Gently, she laid the fairy down, then she simply sat beside the bed.

Her first fairy. The first fairy born under her care, born in her very own flower shop.

The thought filled her with a warmth she couldn't quite describe.

After a while, Y/N tilted her head thoughtfully.

"A name..." She tapped her chin. "Hmm."

The fairy continued sleeping. Completely unaware that one of the biggest decisions of their life was currently being made without their input. Eventually, Y/N snapped her fingers. "I got it."

Satisfied with her choice, she stood up and returned to work. There were deliveries to receive, flowers to organize, and customers to serve. The fairy would wake up eventually, and surprisingly, eventually came rather quickly, because not long after the delivery arrived, Y/N found herself glancing toward the miniature bed, then she stopped.

The fairy was awake, sitting upright, looking around with wide eyes. Curious, confused, overwhelmed.

Ah…

The classic newborn fairy experience. Some things never changed.

Y/N immediately put down the box she was carrying. Slowly and carefully as she approached the bed. She remembered how frightening the world had seemed when she first opened her eyes, so she made sure her movements were gentle.

The tiny fairy looked up and Y/N smiled. "Hi."

The fairy blinked.

"My name is Y/N, and I'm the owner of this flower shop."

The fairy continued staring. But then again, newborn fairies weren't exactly known for their conversational skills.

Y/N chuckled softly.

"And I've decided to name you Lee Chan." She pointed toward him.

"Lee." Then smiled. "Chan."

The tiny fairy stared at her for several seconds, then tilted his head. Honestly, that was probably the most reasonable reaction possible.

And so began Y/N's life as a flower shop owner, with a sunflower fairy.

Funny, isn't it? Out of all the flowers she could have brought with her, she chose that particular sunflower. Out of all the summer fairies waiting to be born, he happened to be the first one under her care.

Coincidence? Perhaps, perhaps not.

Personally, I think fate enjoys gardening just as much as flower fairies do.

Now, could romance bloom between a daffodil fairy and a sunflower fairy? Maybe… maybe not. After all, Y/N had responsibilities. She would have to teach Chan, guide him, help him pass his own Fairy Qualification Test, help him grow. Only then would he eventually become human, just as she had. What happens after that? Well, that part of the story belongs to Y/N, not me.

Every fairy deserves the chance to write their own happily-ever-after.

Still... If you asked for my prediction? I would say there's a very good chance that one day, Y/N will realize she likes him. Then she'll spend months denying it, she'll accidentally make it obvious to everyone, she'll finally gather enough courage to confess. And somewhere after that, there will probably be a flower shop filled with laughter.

But that's a story for another day.

And this one? This one ends exactly where it should. With a daffodil fairy who grew up, found her place in the world, and began a brand-new chapter of her life.

The End.

It's an hour before the party is due to start, and Soonyoung has just turned up at your apartment to get ready together, just like always. He has the parcel of costumes in his arms, and a bright, excited grin on his face when he hands it over to you to allow him to remove his shoes.

“I haven't opened it yet,” he informs, watching you walk over to the couch to lean the parcel against the arm and open it like you know he wants you to. Soonyoung knows you get an odd sense of joy from opening parcels— whether or not they're for you—, so he often brings his orders over or invites you to his apartment to allow you to open them for him.

“So I see,” you muse with a little giggle.

Soonyoung appears at your back a moment later, leaning his chin on your shoulder to peer into the bag as you open it.

The first costume out is his, packaged in another bag, though this one is clear, revealing the cardboard insert with a picture of a man donning the costume on the front. He takes it happily when you offer it and bounces aside to start to open it excitedly.

There's only one more item in the bag, your costume, so you take it out, as excited about your matching pirate outfits as Soonyoung is. Up until you turn the packet over to look at the picture and realise that this truly is not what you expected. Especially not from your best friend.

“What the actual fuck, Kwon Soonyoung?!” you demand, flabbergasted.

“Uh-oh, the full name.” Soonyoung looks up at you in alarm, all signs of joy gone. “Did they send the wrong thing?”

“I hope so, because if you saw this on the site and still ordered it, you and I are going to have some issues.” You turn the packet to show him the picture on the cardboard insert.

A picture of a woman in a tiny pair of high-waisted shorts— if they can even be considered that— with fishnet tights underneath. There's an attempt at a white top that honestly could be a lot worse; it's off the shoulder and cropped, but it's not as bad as it could be for a female-focused costume, yet still far too revealing for your liking. To finish it off, she's wearing a striped bandana on her head, and grasping a plastic sword in her hands. You're very certain that the sword alone is the only reason the packet is this big, because there's certainly not enough material creating the costume to require such a size bag.

Soonyoung stares at the picture for a second, then looks up at you with a confused little pout. “It's a pirate outfit.”

“Show me yours,” you demand with a sigh. He doesn't hesitate to move over and hand you his costume, still just about in the packet.

There's a very clear difference in costumes. The picture on this packet depicts a man in three-quarter length, vertically striped, trousers; and a simple, white shirt with an open neckline, revealing a thin, triangular strip of skin down to his sternum. It’s finished with the same bandana as your costume, and a plastic sword. Though, the man's sword is a lot bigger than the woman's sword. Of course, the men get the big boy sword and the women get the toothpick.

“You seriously don't see a problem with this?” you ask, holding the two packets side by side so that he can see the photos together.

Poor, naive Soonyoung looks between the pictures rapidly in a desperate attempt to understand. Yet he winds up just shaking his head as he looks at you with such an innocent expression that you know that he seriously doesn't understand the problem here at all.

“Then you can wear this one,” you declare while handing him the woman's outfit, before turning to stalk off to your bedroom.

“What?!” he sputters, scrambling to follow you down the short corridor. “This is for women!”

“You've said before; clothes have no gender!” you remind, turning at the threshold with a hand on your open door ready to close it, and a sweet smile on your face. “If you want to match with me, Soonyoungie, you wear that, and I'll wear this.”

He stares between you and the packet in his hand for a moment before agreeing with a nod and a simple “Okay.”

And that right there, is your second mistake.

When you had told Soonyoung to wear that outfit, you really hadn’tbeen prepared for how fucking good he'd look in the skimpy little outfit. Now, you have to spend the next hours at Seungkwan's bustling apartment pretending that your gaze isn't constantly locating Soonyoung in the dim lighting as he happily dances amongst other costumed bodies.

Sure, you've seen Soonyoung topless before, so you know the man has a frankly incredible body— usually hidden under the baggy clothes that he prefers to wear—, but the sexy little pirate outfit highlights his strong torso and biceps so well.

The cropped top stops at his sternum, giving full view of the top half of his defined abs, the bottom half hidden by the high waist of the shorts. And those shorts? They really do not leave a lot to the imagination at all. Soonyoung has spent the entire night so far carefully doing his best to keep the sword strapped around his hips carefully located to dangle in front of his crotch to keep some of his dignity.

You had obligingly given him the bigger sword when you had realised that the 'woman's' sword wasn't exactly wide enough to cover him. Neither of you had made eye contact when you handed it over without a word, because you both knew what it meant; that you had obviously seen the bulge of his flaccid dick in the tight shorts. Which, honestly, had only made you wonder how big he is when hard, and that is a thought that you usually try to avoid, thinking of your best friend in a sexual situation.

Though his pure existence alone makes it very hard. No pun intended.

Kwon Soonyoung doesn't realise how attractive he is, and you're kind of grateful about it. Because if that unfairly effortlessly attractive man knows how hot he is, then you know he'll be cocky and dress to show off more often than just for nights out or special occasions, and you would not mentally survive that.

As it is, you're not sure you'll survive tonight.

“One day, you two are going to stop being stupid and just fuck it out,” Chan comments from your right where he stands in his doctor's outfit. Seungkwan's wearing a matching one somewhere else in the apartment and you really can't tell if it's intentional or not with those two. They're always bickering and acting like they hate each other, but they're always the first the other goes to for any reason whatsoever.

“Please make it before the end of summer so I don't lose money,” Seungcheol requests from your left, leaning against the wall with you, and dressed in a suit just like his own best friend and roommate, wherever she has disappeared to. She's likely with Junhui, based on the way the pair have been eyeing each other for the past hour— and since they met really, but that's another story entirely.

“You assholes have bets on us fucking?” you gawp in betrayed disbelief at the suited man.

“Yup,” Seungcheol confirms shamelessly, while Chan tries to sputter out a denial that makes you level the youngest with an unimpressed look.

However, it doesn't last because you hear Soonyoung's loud voice, even over the music, and automatically look over to where your best friend is trying to stop Seokmin from grabbing at his sword. No euphemism, even if the plastic is in the right place.

“Looks like Seok's going to get further with your boy than you ever have,” Seungcheol sniggers. You shove his arm, making him laugh harder.

“Swordplay,” Chan giggles to himself, then wanders off without another word to refill his cup after swallowing the last of its contents.

“Seriously though, you should, like, go fuck him,” Seungcheol says a moment later, when Soonyoung has successfully distracted Seokmin by grabbing the younger's hands to make him dance with him. Soonyoung shoots you a world-weary, wide-eyed look that makes you snicker and wave innocently at him.

“You really don't want to lose money, huh?”

“It's not even about that, just… you two. This has been going on for over a year now; this gross pining shit. Just sit on his dick and ask him on a date; it's not that hard.”

“You can't say shit, Cheol,” you remind.

“Hey, I've fucked her, regularly,” he defends with a pout before sipping at his drink.

“Oh yeah, because fucking your best friend who you've been in love with since childhood while encouraging her to go after your friend, who she's been mutually eye-fucking for the past three months, is so much better,” you retort sarcastically and give him a look.

He can't refute it at all, it's entirely true, and he's confided in you enough for you both to know that he's constantly making his own heartbreak worse by continuing to indulge his best friend, both in bed and when she comes home and whines over how good Junhui looks.

“We're as bad as each other,” he decides after a second.

“Don't lump me with you. I've never fucked him.” You scoff and turn back around to naturally locate Soonyoung where he's back to smiling away as he dances with Seokmin and some others.

“You want to.”

“Yeah, I really fucking do,” you exhale, and then swallow down the last of your drink, only to frown down into the empty disposable cup. “I need a real drink.”

“You know you can't drink around him like this or you will ask to suck his dick,” Seungcheol reminds you of the very reason why you're always the designated driver when Soonyoung dresses up.

Because yes, you have come close to getting on your knees in the middle of a club for him. Luckily, Seungcheol had noticed and took you home before you actually acted on the urge to publicly defile your best friend. Unluckily, Seungcheol had noticed and hasn’t failed to mention it at every chance. But at least it's stayed between the two of you.

“At this rate, I'll do it regardless,” you mutter, still frowning into your empty cup. “Back in a bit.” Seungcheol just grunts to show he heard before you slump off to the kitchen to refill your cup with one of the non-alcoholic beverages lining the counter.

You've barely finished filling your cup when a familiar hand reaches around you and picks it up to start gulping down. Even though you know it's Soonyoung, you still look over your right shoulder where he's chugging down the drink, entirely unaware of your thirsty gaze watching the drop of liquid that escapes from the corner of his mouth trail down over his chin and jaw, and down his neck to catch on his collar bone. You refrain from leaning in to slurp it up and lick your way up the trail it left all the way to Soonyoung's mouth. Even if you really want to do just that, and more. Much more.

Instead of staring at the way his throat bobs as he swallows down the last drops, you turn back around and wait for him to place the cup down so that you can refill it. And then he grabs it again before you can, making you groan in complaint. “Seriously?"”

“M'thirsty,” he defends, barely pulling the cup away and accidentally dribbling some of the liquid from his mouth onto your shoulder. You look at him in disgust. He just grins sweetly and kisses your cheek in a sticky, apologetic way before leaning back up to get back to his task of once again, stealing your drink.

At least this time when you've refilled the cup, he doesn't steal it away and lets you actually lift it to your own mouth. You can feel his eyes on you as you drink, so you side-eye him questioningly without moving the cup away.

“Are you taking Seungcheol home again?” he asks, stepping closer to you as someone passes too close behind him; his left hand falls to your hip and his right onto the counter, sort of caging you in, though you know it's unintentional— even if you wish it wasn't.

“He can take himself home, he's not drinking tonight,” you reply, distracted by the feeling of plastic pressing against you. “Your sword is digging into my ass.”

Soonyoung lets go of the counter to tug his sword belt around and lays the toy on the outside of his left thigh, leaving him pressed directly against you. You genuinely can't tell if he's even noticed that as he seems to be focused on the conversation, judging by the concentrated furrow of his eyebrows. “That's not what I mean and you know it.”

“If I know it, wouldn't I respond to what you mean?” You give him a look; puzzled by his words, and hoping he understands that you seem to very much not be having the same conversation here, and you are completely unaware of the conversation he's having with you.

“Not when you're both pretending nothing's happening.”

“What?” You nudge him back enough so that you can turn and face him, which admittedly, is not your smartest move when he moves straight back in. He doesn't press against you again, but his left foot is between both of yours as you lean your ass back against the counter. Any closer and his thigh will be very close to pressing to your crotch.

“Come on, I'm your best friend, I think you should at least be honest with me, even if you play ignorant with the others.” He frowns and leans heavier onto his right hand on the counter beside your hip, bringing him in closer so that he doesn't have to talk so loudly to be heard over the music. “You two often leave together when we go out. And even though his place is closer than mine, you drop me off first so it's just you two left. I'm not stupid.”

“Wait, you think that's so we can go fuck?” you realise with wide eyes.

“It's obvious; you always find each other when we're all together like this and spend the whole fucking night hiding off to the side whispering to each other.”

You can't help but laugh. “Do you all think we're fucking?” He nods in confirmation. You laugh again. “Oh man, I gotta tell Cheolie this.” You start to push off the counter with every intention of going to find the older man, knowing he will find it as hilarious as you do, but Soonyoung puts his left hand on your lower stomach to push you back, and then he pushes himself against you to pin you there. “Soonyoung–”

“No.”

“What? No? No what?"”

“I'm not letting you go back to him. You came with me, you're staying with me, and leaving with me, no one else,” he declares firmly.

You stare up at him trying to decipher what the fuck is actually going on right now; what prompted this sudden conversation and behaviour. Not that Soonyoung has never pinned you before, but it's usually playful as he whines and pouts cutely to get his way, or to just joke around. But he's entirely serious now and looking at you with something kind of dark in his eyes.

Admittedly, it's pretty fucking hot.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, even if you know he's not; you can't smell any alcohol on him, and drunk Soonyoung gets cuddly and clingy, not whatever this is.

“You know I'm not.” He places his left hand on the counter on your other side, well and truly caging you in, and causing him to lean down a little closer to reach comfortably.

“Then why are you suddenly acting like this?”

“It's not sudden.” You give him a look. “Okay, fine, acting on it is; but wanting to, that's not sudden. I've wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Then why haven't you?”

“Because I care about you too much.” He frowns a little as he takes in your features from up close, gaze catching on your lips for a few seconds before lifting back up to meet your eyes. “There's a bet, you know, about us fucking?”

“I just found out.” You pull a displeased expression. “Cheol's in on that, you know? He wouldn't bet on us fucking before the end of summer if he's fucking me.”

“He is?” He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “They made it sound like he's against the bet; said he's been trying to stop them from talking me into it.”

“Yeah, no, he just told me to fuck you. He's always telling me to fuck you.”

“Oh.” He licks his lips as his eyes divert thoughtfully. “Guess I should stop being a dick to him then.”

“You've been a dick to him?” you ask, genuinely surprised. You really haven't noticed Soonyoung acting badly towards Seungcheol at all.

“Mm, I always take his favourite snacks at movie night.”

You can't help but burst into giggling laughter at his confession. Of course, the man doesn't have a single genuinely mean bone in his body and would think purposely taking someone's favourite snacks would be a giant dick move. You bet he's been feeling kind of guilty about it while, no doubt, Seungcheol hasn't even noticed.

“What? why're you laughing?” He pouts at you.

“Oh, Soonie, you're so fucking cute,” you coo and cup his cheeks fondly. He smiles a little dopily at the compliment; the same smile he reserves for you and your doting attention on him, even if neither of you have noticed that. The rest of your friends have though.

“Nice ass,” you hear before Soonyoung's hips jerk into you when he yelps and tries to escape the slap that lands on his ass.

“Hey!” he complains, looking over his shoulder to pout at Jeonghan as the man appears from behind your best friend.

You really can't tell exactly what Jeonghan is supposed to be; you think it's some kind of anime character, or something kinky. Maybe both. Either way, his costume is a strange mix of faux black leather, and shimmery red, lacy wings. And he pulls it off unfairly well, considering that you know he hadn't been prepared for the party this morning at all.

“What? Don't look at me like I'm disturbing something,” Jeonghan scoffs, reaching around you to grab the same big plastic bottle you had been filling your cup from. Though he stops and looks at the way Soonyoung is very much pressed against you. Jeonghan grins after noticing that Soonyoung's crotch is definitely smushed against your upper thigh; something you have been doing your best to ignore yourself because yes you can feel everything through the thin material covering you both. “Or maybe I am.” He smirks at you both.

“What are you supposed to be exactly?” you ask in an attempt to change the topic to one that won't kill your last remaining dregs of sanity. Then again, with the things that come out of Yoon Jeonghan's mouth, you could still be rendered insane, but for a reason other than feeling your best friend's dick pressed against you.

“No idea, just grabbed some shit from Hao's costume closet.” Jeonghan shrugs as he looks down at himself. “Kind of think this might be less about his costume designing and more about sex though.”

“He's definitely worn that harness while fucking someone,” you agree, and reach out to hook your finger over the thick horizontal strap over Jeonghan's chest. You're pretty sure it's directly over his nipples, but the slightly sheer tank top he's wearing underneath the harness kind of obscures your view enough that you don't have confirmation.

“Mm, definitely,” Jeonghan agrees, and smirks at you. “Want to take it home yourself?”

“And take it from you? I wouldn't dare, you look so handsome, Hannie,” you coo, playing along with the flirty banter you two have always partaken in. Not because anything has ever happened between you, nor will it; you've discussed it plenty of times to make sure you're both on the same page. But it's just fun to harmlessly flirt.

“Never said I won't be wearing it.” He licks his lips and gives you a suggestive look.

“You're not going home with her,” Soonyoung argues firmly, crowding up against you further; though his gaze is on Jeonghan in warning, so he misses the way your eyes widen and dart down to where Soonyoung is now pressing his dick against your hip with his own thigh pressing up between your thighs. Jeonghan doesn't miss it though and cackles, leaving without another word with his cup and the entire bottle of drink clasped in his hands.

“S–Soonyoung,” you stammer, hands fluttering at his sides, wanting to push him back for your sanity, but you think putting your hands on his exposed skin will just make you pull him closer.

“Do you have to flirt with him all the time?” He frowns at you, entirely unaware of the screaming in your mind; mostly just sounds with the odd yell of the word penis. He'd probably laugh if he heard it, to be honest, just because of the word penis. He wouldn't even realise it's his penis you're mentally screaming about. “And when I'm right here too. Did you forget I'm here or something?”

“No,” you choke out.

“Then why– are you okay?” He suddenly realises how wide your eyes are.

“I can feel your dick,” you blurt, unable to think of anything else.

He blinks at you for a moment, then looks down at where he's pressed against you as if he hasn't even noticed until now. “Oh.” He pulls his hips back, and his thigh from between yours, making you let out a heavy, shaky exhale as your body relaxes a little. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Ha, not the word I'd use.”

“What word would you use?”

If he was any other man, you'd say the little quirk of his head and innocent eyes locked onto you is fake; just some kind of game, a way to flirt. But it's Kwon Soonyoung, and you've seen this man miss the most obvious of flirtations since you've known him. The number of times you or the guys have had to bluntly tell him that someone had been trying to take him home to fuck, is frankly absurd.

“Stop touching my ass!” his sudden exclamation makes you jump a little, while he looks over his shoulder in annoyance, glaring at Seungkwan, who's giving him an innocent look.

“I'm very happy that you two are finally doing something about your consistent sexual tension and mutual pining, but take it out of my kitchen, please. I don't want to have to burn my home down if you defile my counters,” the younger man speaks bluntly with a slightly sweet edge to his words. You can't even see him, but you just know that he's got that too sweet smile on his face that always feels more threatening than anything.

“What?” Soonyoung blinks at him puzzled as the annoyance of his ass being grabbed melts away. “We're not doing anything.”

“Hannie told me you're being possessive, and we all know that she likes that, so–”

“Hey!” you exclaim offendedly, not because you can argue it, but just more that you're being talked about like you're not here. “She has a name!”

“Well, take Soonie home and he can moan it for the neighbours to hear.” Seungkwan gives you that sweet-threatening smile as he leans around Soonyoung to meet your gaze. “My neighbours don't want to hear it.”

“My neighbours won't hear that,” you scoff.

Soonyoung can't help but frown; he feels like he's just been rejected, even though he hadn't even gotten to the point of actually asking to take you home and fuck you like he wants to, like your mutual friends had convinced him you want him to. But your firm dismissal of Seungkwan's words sounds like you putting that boundary securely in place before he can even ask to tumble over it into your arms.

“He's loud–” Seungkwan starts to point out, but you're not done talking, even if you had taken a quick scoff break.

“I don't live in a cheap-ass building with paper for walls like you do, Kwannie,” you finish.

Both men stare at you for a second; Seungkwan at first just blinks in surprise at the fact you're not even disputing the Soonyoung moaning your name part, just whether or not your neighbours will hear. And Soonyoung is full-on gawping at you, mouth open and eyes wide, wondering if this means that boundary even exists between you.

“Does that mean you won't get a noise complaint? He’s pretty loud, you know? There's a reason we don't live together anymore.”

“I don't know,” you reply with a shrug.

“Then go fucking home already and stop humping against my kitchen counter!” Seungkwan grabs Soonyoung by his hips to yank him backwards away from you, while the scantily dressed pirate yelps and flails a little at the unexpected action. Then he's shoved towards the kitchen exit while Seungkwan grabs your wrist to tug you along.

You're both too genuinely dumbstruck by Seungkwan's sudden, forceful actions to do anything but stumble along until you're both outside of the apartment, shoes in hands, and staring in shock at the door that's just been shut in your faces.

“Did we just get kicked out?” you mutter.

Soonyoung nods slowly and then looks at you. “I think we got kicked out for sex.”

“Is it still sexile if you're the ones getting kicked out and told to go elsewhere to fuck?” you muse, attention downwards as you focus on shoving your feet into your shoes with one hand on the wall behind you, and the other out in the air pointlessly.

“Uh, reverse sexile?” he offers, dropping his shoes to shove his feet into.

“Sounds like a sex position.”

He laughs. “What would that even look like?”

“No idea.” You grin at him, then figure that, well, it seems like you've both been outed enough already, seeing as all of your friends have stopped hiding the fact that they expect you to finally have sex, which really implies a mutual attraction. So, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth for a second as he frowns down at his shoe that just will not accept his right foot for some reason. “Shall we go find out?”

Immediately, Soonyoung looks up at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“Shall we go find out what reverse sexile looks like?”

“Like...us?”

“Yeah, Soonyoung, us,” you confirm with an amused twitch of your lips. “You said you're the only one to go home with me, right?” He nods. “Then let's go home and find out, Soonie.”

“Ye–no, wait.” He steps closer and takes your hand gently before you can start walking down the hall to the staircase. His fingers are barely holding onto your own. It's perhaps the most cautious he's ever taken your hand into his. Even the very first time you held hands, he had boldly laced your fingers together, and you had only met ten minutes previously.

“No?” you ask, feeling really kind of stupid all of a sudden. You had been so unusually confident in asking him to go home and fuck you.

“Not because I don't want to because I do seriously, I really want to fuck you,” he breathes out, sounding rather affected by the thought alone as he stares at you longingly and holds your hand a little more securely. “I just...I don't want it to wind up like Seungcheol.”

“Uh, what about Seungcheol?” You shuffle a little closer while giving him a questioning look.

“Regularly fucking his best friend who has a crush on someone else, while he...while he wants her as more than just company in his bed.” The way his expression turns serious and yearning makes your heart start to race a little with hope. 

“While he...Are you saying you want more?” you ask quietly.

“Earlier, when I said I care about you too much, I meant I care too much to be able to have sex with you if it means nothing. I really fucking like you, and I don't want to go home with you like this if you don't feel the same. I can't do that.” He shakes his head a little. “As much as I've thought about this, about you and me doing all kinds of kinky shit all over your apartment, and mine when Jihoon isn't there. Or when he is, if you're into exhibitionism; I don't know your kinks, and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even notice anyway because he never leaves his fucking room, an–” He's rambling at this point, frowning down at your connected hands as he talks.

“Soonyoung.” He makes a soft hum of a noise as he looks back up at you with rounded eyes. “We can talk kinks later, I'd really like to get back to the matter of it sounds like you're confessing to me?”

“Oh, right yeah, I guess I am.” He chuckles a little and nervously scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “So, uh, yeah, I really like you and uhm, I guess now comes the part where, hopefully, you say you like me back; but I really don't know if you do because the guys just really said you want to fuck me, and–” You cover his mouth with your hand this time to shut up his second bout of nervous rambling.

“I really like you too, Soonie,” you confirm softly, and giggle at the way his features light up adorably behind your palm. “Can we skip the trial dating bullshit and go straight to being together? I'd like to show you off as my boyfriend.” His eyes widen dramatically, and then he's nodding rapidly in agreement without dislodging your hand. “You're so cute,” you coo, and lean in just to press a kiss to the back of your hand over his mouth. He looks utterly betrayed and heartbroken when you lean back. “What?” You play innocent and lower your hand while backing up, lacing your fingers behind your back.

“You can't tease me like that, baby!” he whines, toddling after you, and dragging his feet in a sulk as he moves along the carpeted flooring of the hall.

“Tease? Me? Never.” You grin at him, then stop as your back hits the door to the staircase.

“You are. Teased me for the past year. Teasing me now,” he continues to mumble away as he nears, though cuts off when you reach out to grab the sword and yank on the plastic to pull him in right up against you. His hands automatically fly up to catch himself on the door above your head while his breath catches in his throat. 

“If you're so worried I'm going to keep teasing you, Soonie, you better hurry up and take what you want,” you warn in a low voice, chin tilted up so your faces are only inches apart.

Soonyoung groans in the back of his throat before he leans down and seals his lips against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. He presses his left forearm flat against the door beside your head, so that he can firmly hold your jaw with his right hand and tilt you further into him with his thumb pushing on your chin to urge your mouth open wider and deepen the kiss in a manner much too filthy for a public hallway of your friend's apartment building.

“Oh, for fucks sake!” the loud voice of the friend in question forces you both apart, to peer over Soonyoung's shoulder to where Seungkwan is in the hallway with the cute neighbour he's recently started to date, their hands clasped together, and clearly with one intention in mind while sneaking away from his own party. They're standing outside of the neighbour's slightly open door, but Seungkwan is staring at you and Soonyoung in disbelief. “I told you to go home! Not get your booty here!”

“Ha, booty, pirate joke,” you snigger, and Soonyoung giggles; both at your amusement, and the pun he honestly hadn't even noticed.

“You two are fucking useless,” Seungkwan decides, and lets his neighbour tug him into the apartment. “You better be gone before I'm back!”

“90 seconds, right?!" Soonyoung calls as Seungkwan disappears. The younger's head pops back out to glare at the other and flip him a very heartfelt middle finger before the door actually shuts behind him that time. Soonyoung turns to look at you with a mischievous smirk. “Should we go fuck on his bed just to piss him off?”

“As tempting as that sounds, I'd rather only I hear you like that, Soonie.” You pout at him cutely. “I'm not very good at sharing my toys, you know.”

“Oh, I'm your toy now?” he muses, reaching down to open the door carefully and back you through it with his other arm wrapping around your waist.

“Mm, mine and only mine to play with when I want, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yours and yours only, baby,” he agrees lowly. “And you're mine.”

“I am,” you confirm, and tilt up to kiss him teasingly. “Let's hurry and get home so I can show you everything that now belongs to you.”

Soonyoung really doesn’t need any further encouragement and enthusiastically rushes out with his hand locked in yours and excitement on his face. He’s more than ready to unveil your body little by little and discover all of the sweet spots that make you loud enough that your neighbours will know his name before the night is over, thick walls be dammed.

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When you manage to gingerly shuffle up to not splash the water over the edge of the tub onto the tiles, you dry your hands off on the towel waiting for you, then grab your phone. You just about manage to get a glance at the caller ID — John Bun 🐰 — before the calls times out.

Slightly alarmed, you quickly unlock the device with the intention of immediately calling back— because it’s really so rare that he ever rings you—, but then it starts to ring with a new incoming call with the same ID, and you don’t hesitate to press answer.

“Hey, Mama!” Jungkook greets brightly the second the call connects.

“You…sound okay,” you realise, eyebrows furrowing as you lean back into the water after putting the call on speakerphone and leaving the device on the little ledge to your right, where your bath products are lined up ready for use.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he sounds utterly bewildered.

“Jungkook, the last time you called me, you thought aliens had abducted you,” you remind flatly.

“In my defence, I was really drunk and forgot where I was.”

“I still don’t know why you rang me of all people.”

“Gyu told me to. He would’ve done it, but he was too busy crying about not wanting to be probed by anyone but you. Did you ever peg him, by the way?”

“Pretty sure you didn’t call me at 11am on a Monday to ask that,” you muse, adjusting so that you can reach a lump of bubbles floating just out of arms’ length, to hold them in your hands and watch the rainbows dance on their shiny, curved surface.

“You’re right. We’ll circle back,” he decides, and you huff a laugh out. “Have you got a sitter for Tae for Wonwoo’s wedding yet?”

“Wonwoo’s wedding?” you repeat, lifting your head as you think about it. “Oh, no, we decided that I’m not going, just Gyu. We don’t want to leave Tae all those hours when we’re out of the city. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was closer, but it’s too far for us to be comfortable with that.”

“Oh, in that case, do you think you’d be able to watch Jihoon?”

“Jihoon? Why would I watch Jihoon?” you mumble confused.

“Babe, Wonwoo’s my cousin, remember? He and Yoongi may not be related by blood, but they still consider each other cousins.”

“Oh yeah, right. Forgot you’re related for a sec.”

Jungkook snorts an amused laugh before talking. “Mm, so, what do you think? I was going to ask if you think your sitter would watch Jihoon too, but if it’s you, it’s even better because he knows you! Wonwoo’s asking about Yoongi’s RSVP for the sake of seating and catering; he needs it before the end of the week really.”

You hum in understanding, remembering how stressful getting responses for your own wedding invitations was, and you and Mingyu had kept it small. You’re not very close with Wonwoo, but he has enthused a few times about the wedding plans when you’ve crossed paths, clearly very excited to create the big, beautiful wedding of his dreams. Luckily, his wife-to-be is just as enthusiastic, and the pair have extended the invitation to pretty much all of their friends and family to join them in celebrating the union. You know it’s going to be huge, and you don’t envy them for all the work they have to do, but you do sympathise. A lot.

“Well, I’m more than happy to watch Jihoon, yeah; he’s a sweet kid,” you answer.

“He is, he’s great,” Jungkook agrees quickly, cutting you off, but you don’t mind and just giggle instead. He sounds so genuinely fond of his nephew that you’ll never be anything but endeared by the man butting in to praise the little boy.

“But obviously, it all depends on if he would be okay with staying the night here with me and Tae. I know they’re booking a whole bunch of hotels for their guests, so Yoongi will stay there, and even if not, it’ll be too late by the time he gets back for Jihoon to still realistically be awake and endure the drive home. Plus, it’d be nice for Yoongi have some time off the dad clock.”

“It would. I don’t think he’s had any time for himself since the bitch left, other than when Ji’s in bed.” You can’t help but linger on the fact Jungkook refers to who you can only assume is Jihoon’s mother as “the bitch”— which coming from a man who doesn’t like to call people such names, says a lot—, plus, the venom in which he hisses the insult. You’re beyond curious about Jihoon’s mother, Yoongi’s ex-wife, but it’s not your place to ask. Yoongi obviously doesn’t want to even be your friend, so there’s no way he’d be happy to know his brother told you about the woman he was supposed to have a family with.

“Mm, so, as I said, I’m fine with it as long as Jihoon is. And obviously, Yoongi and I would need to discuss it properly to figure out logistics and such.”

“Mm, yeah, yeah, I’ll call him after school today to let him know you’re available….and convince him to actually agree to go to the wedding that is.”

For a second, you’re quiet as you let his words settle. “Jungkook.”

“Yes, beautiful?” he coos, extra sweet, knowing that you’re using your stern tone— something you’ve used on him many times over the years when he’s done something you don’t approve of, or he’s just being plain stupid.

“Why does that sound like Yoongi doesn’t even know you’re asking me any of this.”

“I have no idea, you gorgeous, stunning, jaw-dropping–” he cuts off with a giggle when you sigh heavily. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t mentioned anything to him yet. I’m at Wonwoo’s right now and he asked me; said Yoongi’s been saying he can’t because of Ji, and everyone who he trusts to look after him will be there.”

“Jin’s going?” you ask, trying to recall if Wonwoo was at Seokjin’s wedding, if the pair even know each other that well, but there were so many people at the wedding that you didn’t get a chance to even take in half of them; and with Wonwoo being a photographer known for his specific brand of angsty shots, he’s likely worked with Seokjin for more artsy fashion shoots. You just haven’t ever seen the pair interact before, and Wonwoo can be particular with the brands and models he works with, so you know there are a lot of people who have never worked with him despite how well-known he is.

“They’re on their second honeymoon then,” Jungkook says and you hum, recalling Seokjin vaguely mentioning booking a trip in February the last time you spoke to him a couple weeks back.

“Won’t that be their third?” you wonder, thinking about the recent bundle of photos Seokjin uploaded to his private social media— just for close friends and family— of him and Celeste off in a forest somewhere on a honeymoon, even though they had been on one immediately after their wedding.

“Oooh, right. To be honest, I think he’s just really going to milk this whole married thing and call any holiday they go on a honeymoon.”

You can help but laugh softly in agreement. “He will, but it’s sweet, how in love they are.”

“Mm, suppose. Anyway, Yoon says he’s got no-one and doesn’t know any sitters who can handle autistic kids, so I thought ‘hey, I know a foxy mama who—'”

“Don’t ever call me a foxy mama again,” you interrupt in a tone so unimpressed that Jungkook cracks up, cackling away down the phone, making you glad it’s not pressed to your ear right now. You’ve been attacked by that very laugh through the phone before, and it’s not something you want to ever experience again. 

It takes Jungkook a minute to calm, during which time you just enjoy the warm water relaxing your muscles, dancing your fingers through the water, and idly humming softly to yourself as you wait.

“Hey, is that water I hear?” he asks when you abruptly lift your arm to combat the very sudden itch of your nose that you just can’t ignore.

You hum in confirmation. “I’m in the bath.” Jungkook gasps sharply, then hangs up, making you look at your phone utterly bewildered and a little concerned that something has happened to him. At least until seconds later, when a request for a video call comes through and you snort amusedly. After drying your hand, you reach over to accept, though leave your phone where it is, angled up to the ceiling. “Pervert.”

“Let me seeee,” he whines, not even trying to argue your accusation.

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll come over and join you!” You know he’s serious by the fact you can hear him moving.

“Fucking hell,” you huff and pick up your phone to angle it so that your shoulders and above are in view. “Happy?”

“Did you get prettier, huh?” he coos, grinning dumbly at the camera and failing to wink at you, making you laugh. At least he’s now stopped trying to rush over to your house and he’s sitting back down— you can only hope he’s found a room in Wonwoo’s house out of everyone’s ear shot to have this call. “Where’s Gyu? I actually did call him first because I know he’s not at work and you two talk about literally everything, especially about Tae, so I knew he’ll know about the sitter thing too, even if you’re the one who usually arranges it–”

“You’re rambling, bunny boy.”

“Right. I just suddenly have a lot of energy I need to get out.” He fails to wink again, and you just laugh. “I can’t believe my seduction attempts have one again been thwarted by my inability to wink.”

“You can wink,” you point out, having seen him do so before. “It just…comes and goes.”

“And I would like to go to your place and come–” He cuts himself off with a snigger when he sees you exaggeratedly rolling your eyes. “Okay, but seriously, what’s Gyu doing? Can I come over?”

“He’s grocery shopping.”

“Oh, he’s in the zone,” he realises. “No wonder he didn’t answer my calls. It’s so fucking weird how obsessive he gets grocery shopping.”

“It’s cute…as long as we’re not in a rush. He’s just particular about ingredients and wants to find a good bargain!” you defend your best friend, even if Mingyu’s particulars when grocery shopping have frustrated you on more than one occasion.

These days, you only go grocery shopping together if there isn’t a single plan for at least the following three hours, and if Taehyung isn’t with the pair of you. The poor boy gets so bored and more frustrated than you do when the two of you have to watch Mingyu stare between the same two punnets of grapes for ten straight minutes before he decides which one to buy. Which is extra frustrating when you know the man will eat pretty much anything put in front of him, so he has no reason to be so fussy when he buys groceries. He doesn’t even care if you bring home the most battered items in the store, he just cares what he buys. You’ll never understand, and you’re not even sure Mingyu does himself, but you leave him to it, and he’s usually happy shopping alone anyway.

“Mm, sure, sure,” Jungkook replies, not at all agreeing, just placating you, and you roll your eyes again. “You know, I could give you an even better reason to roll your eyes,” he says, extra sleazy, and finally manages to wink through the camera at you this time. “I did it! That’s worth at least a boob shot.”

“I can’t tell if you mean you mean that as a sex act, or for me to angle the camera down,” you admit amusedly.

“Uhh, honestly, if you show me your tits right now, I will be running to my car and heading straight over. So consider that carefully. If I see the tiddies, I’m gonna come over and put them in my mouth,” he warns, making you laugh. “I’m serious.” He looks it too, completely straight faced and eyes a little dark where they’re focused on the bottom of his screen, as if he can use the power of sheer want to get your bare chest in camera range.

“I know. You’re so cute, Kookie,” you coo. Seconds before the bathroom door opens, you hear familiar footsteps, so you just look over unworried as Mingyu enters your bathroom without even knocking the door. “Done shopping already?” you question bewildered, he only left half an hour ago.

“I got all the way there and realised I forgot the bags,” Mingyu admits, crossing the room to squat down beside the tub with his arms crossed on the edge. “And I knew you’d kill me if I bought more when we have so many.”

“I would,” you confirm simply, thinking of the frankly far too expansive collection of reusable shopping bags— even the fancy insulated ones— that the pair of you have collected over the years living together, yet still often forget to take shopping with you. You tend to keep a stash in the boot of your car ready, but Mingyu always forgets to restock the ones you try to get him to keep in his own car. More often than not, he does drive yours though— simply because it’s bigger and more comfortable—, but sometimes he does actually drive his own car when it’s just him, though you never know until you find your car missing from the driveway when you peer out of the window. At least you have full access to his car too, and there’s a spare car seat for Taehyung in the garage if you ever need it when you have Taehyung with you.

“Who’re you talking to?” he wonders, suddenly realising that the view on your phone screen isn’t a video, but a video call, making him frown confusedly about the fact you’re video calling someone while naked. Though when you turn the phone and his best friend waves at him, Mingyu huffs a laugh. “Hi, Koo. This is why my call didn’t go through then; you’re trying to fuck my baby mama again.”

“Trying being the keyword,” Jungkook answers shamelessly with a nod to match, making Mingyu snicker. “She won’t even let me see the tiddies.”

“You literally just said you’d come straight over and put them in your mouth if I did!” you defend. “I am trying to have a relaxing bath here.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to come shopping with me?” Mingyu asks, pouting at you in an adorably sad kind of kicked puppy-dog way. “I was bored on my own.”

“Seriously?” you mutter while giving him an unimpressed look, though he knows he’s got you, he’s already grinning victoriously and bouncing up to reach over and pull the plug from the bath to begin draining the water.

“This is exactly why people think you’re still together,” Jungkook sniggers, watching you give in to your ex-husband so easily after him doing nothing more than pouting for your company. Admittedly, it’s not the first time you’ve given in so easily to Mingyu wanting your attention— actually, it’s pretty damn regular—, and you’re very certain it’ll likely continue for as long as you remain such good friends.

“We’re soulmates, that’s why,” Mingyu announces, taking your phone and talking to Jungkook himself as you get out of the tub and dry yourself off with a towel diligently. Suddenly, when you’re bending over to dry your feet, you realise that Mingyu is weirdly silent, and so you look over at him curiously, only to find his gaze glued to you. You raise a pointed eyebrow at him, making him sigh defeatedly. “Why did we agree no sex when we divorced? I still think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and seeing you literally naked and bent over in front of me is cruel, baby.”

“Naked and bent over?” Jungkook repeats, sounding a little pained. “Quick, switch camera view, Gyu!”

“No. My eyes only,” Mingyu argues extra childishly, still watching you as you finish drying off, then hang the towel on the heated rail for it to dry off. You walk over to Mingyu and carefully tuck up at his side, so although Jungkook can see you again now, your nude body is out of his view. Mingyu is still staring down at you with a darkness growing in his gaze that, admittedly, still makes your body begin to grow warm, remembering how well he always worshipped your body when you were together.

Honestly, sometimes it’s hard to remember that you both were very adamant on being nothing but friends once you divorced; cutting off sexual intimacy between you for the sake of not blurring any lines.

It’s even harder to remember when Mingyu looks at you like this, like he wants to drop to his knees right now and bury his face between your thighs until he can’t breathe; and then keep going until you have to force his head out and hold him back by a fistful of hair until he’s returned oxygen to his lungs. That particular circumstance was a very regular occurrence ever since the first time the two of you had sex all those years back. You honestly think Mingyu prefers giving oral than actually fucking with how he would beg for it sometimes, then not even try to do anything else when his chest was heavy, face messy, and eyes so dark and crazed you’re pretty sure he wasn’t even mentally present in the real world anymore.

Thinking of that, of how good Mingyu always was, how desperate to please you, it does make you almost forget why you can’t push him down onto the nearest surface— floor included— and climb onto his face. It’s even harder when you’re pretty sure he’d let you and be so enthusiastically grateful about it too. But you can’t risk things getting confused between the two of you, not when it could ruin everything and you have a son to consider.

“Don’t forget to call Yoongi about Jihoon staying here,” you say to Jungkook, who nods, letting out a soft, slightly disappointed breath knowing this is you ending the conversation and he won’t be getting a view of your naked body or the chance to drive over and see it up close.

“What?” Mingyu murmurs confused, frowning at you slightly in bewilderment, yet turns to say goodbye to Jungkook when you do, then hangs up and locks your phone while toddling after you into your room, no longer staring at your body but the back of your head in curiosity. “What’s that about Jihoon staying here?”

“So Yoongi can go to Wonwoo’s wedding. Koo asked if we have a sitter for Tae for it because he was going to see if they would also be able to look after Jihoon, as we would’ve already found someone suitable to watch a child with autism, and Yoongi doesn’t know any sitters, especially ones like that.”

“Ah, you told him you’re not going,” he understands, and reaches past you to shuffle through the clothes hanging in front of you now that you’re in your walk-in wardrobe. You leave him to pick out your outfit while you pull on your underwear and apply your skin care.

When you’re done and head over to your bed where Mingyu is comfortably reclined in wait, you’re not at all surprised to find that the outfit laid out at his side ready for you matches the one he’s wearing. Taehyung gets his love of matching from his dad, after all.

It’s not until Wednesday that you hear anything back about potentially looking after Jihoon in February so that Yoongi can attend his cousin’s wedding.

When Mingyu returns home from picking Taehyung up from school— the little boy happily bouncing along at his side and already animatedly telling you everything he did at school today—, Mingyu holds out a little folded piece of paper to you with a sly, suggestive grin. You give him a questioning look, but he just winks at you then walks off, so you turn back to your son and leave the paper alone until he’s done talking.

As soon as Taehyung darts off to take his water bottle to the kitchen ready to be cleaned and refilled for tomorrow, you focus on the paper in your hand. Unfolding it, you’re met with neat handwriting of a note with your name at the top, and to your surprise, Yoongi’s name and phone number at the bottom.

The note doesn’t say much, just that Jungkook talked to him, and although Yoongi isn’t certain Jihoon will be okay with it, he at least appreciates the offer and would like to meet to discuss it; he’d really like to attend Wonwoo’s wedding and play the piano for his cousin’s first dance, like Wonwoo has asked him to do since they were kids. You can’t help but think how sweet it is, both of Wonwoo to want his cousin to play the piano at his wedding for his first dance with his new wife, but for Yoongi to want to do it so much that he’s willing to leave Jihoon with someone he doesn’t consider family.

Although you know Yoongi will still be at the school now and won’t finish work for a little bit as he finishes up whatever he needs to after class, you grab your phone, save his number, and send him a text to suggest he and Jihoon come over this Saturday after lunch to discuss it and gauge Jihoon’s comfort at your house.

Then, you put down your phone and forget about it for the following few hours as you focus on your family, until you find a response from Yoongi agreeing, and something in your chest flutters at the thought of seeing him in your family home this weekend.

By the time the doorbell rings on Saturday afternoon, Taehyung is all but vibrating out of his skin. Ever since you told him last night that Yoongi and Jihoon will be visiting for a few hours today, Taehyung has not stopped talking about everything he wants to show them, everything he wants to do with Jihoon.

You and Mingyu have both had to remind your son a few times that Jihoon likes much calmer things, not running around and lots of stimulation like Taehyung does. He always nods at the reminder and calms down, thinks of calmer things until he inevitably forgets in his excitement.

As you head to the front door, you can hear Mingyu gently reminding Taehyung one final time to be gentle with Jihoon and not overwhelm him with toys, games, and options.

“Hi, welcome!” you greet once you open the door to the father-son duo standing on your little porch. You’re not surprised to find them in matching coats, beanies, and boots, though it does make you smile a little brighter, utterly endeared. “Come on in,” you offer, stepping aside and motioning into the house.

Yoongi softly nudges Jihoon encouragingly on the back, so the boy tentatively enters first with his dad right behind him, the man giving you a little smile in grateful greeting before you shut the door and motion to where they can put their shoes, and the slippers that Taehyung had diligently set up— and straightened a dozen times— as soon as he rushed excitedly downstairs this morning barely awake.

“Thank you for inviting us over,” Yoongi says when you’re hanging up their coats in the coat closet, door open on your right and the pair in view as Jihoon carefully peers around what he can see of the house from the entrance hall.

“Of course, Taehyung has been really excited to hang out with you more, Jihoon,” you inform, careful not to give away the real reason they’re here, just in case after discussing it with Yoongi thoroughly, the pair of you decide that Jihoon staying with you for the night won’t work out. You don’t want to risk upsetting the boys by prematurely telling them about a sleepover that can’t even happen. Not that you’re even sure if Jihoon would be excited to have a sleepover with Taehyung, but you’d rather not risk it.

“Oh,” Jihoon mutters softly, looking down at the slippers on his feet. You can see him wiggling his toes, pressing them up against the material, and you hope he finds them comfortable. They’re technically Taehyung’s, extra soft and very expensive— more than you’d ever pay for slippers if it wasn’t for his sensory struggles—, but your son is adamantly against wearing shoes when he doesn’t have to; something he actually gets from you. You never wear slippers at home, only Mingyu does, and he still gives the pair of you judging looks when you both remove your socks too and pad around barefoot.

Figuring Jihoon isn’t feeling particularly verbal right now, you lead the pair into the living room, where Mingyu is physically holding Taehyung down to stop the boy running off to greet the Min family with probably too much excitement to not overwhelm poor Jihoon the second he walks into the house.

“Hey,” Mingyu grins at the pair. “Welcome to our home!”

“I call can you Yoongi ‘gain?” Taehyung immediately asks his teacher, who chuckles and nods in consent. “Yoongi!” he cheers, wriggling out of his dad’s arms to dart over and hug Yoongi, who doesn’t fail to return the affection, just like always. “Ji, Ji, wanna watch anime?” Taehyung asks, bouncing over to Jihoon as soon as the hug breaks, though he respectfully doesn’t get to close, and is careful to not raise his voice or bounce too much as the older boy glances at him. “We can watch in my playroom! I have many lots pillows, and beanbaggies, and blankets, and soft, soft, soft teddies!”

“Baby, how about we let Jihoon and Yoongi get comfortable and used to the house first?” Mingyu suggests, noticing that Jihoon is shrinking in on himself a little.

“Oh, okay!” Taehyung bounces off to clamber back onto his dad’s lap. “Want watch nice music?” he suggests, already picking up the TV remote from the couch beside Mingyu to switch to YouTube and find the very same video you played for Jihoon in the hotel that day. Jihoon must recognise the music because as soon as it starts to play, he lifts his head enough to peer up at the large screen, then gingerly moves over to sit on the other end of the sofa to the pair and watch.

“I should really find this video and save it,” Yoongi muses quietly on your right, suddenly a lot closer having walked further in once his son had bravely moved first.

“I’ll send you the link to the playlist,” you offer, looking at him, and he looks away from the TV to give you a little, grateful grin. “Go sit, I’ll grab drinks, what do you two like? Coffee, tea, hot chocolate, water, juice…” you trail off, trying to remember exactly what beverages you have, knowing that all three members of your family have the bad habit of finding new drinks interesting in the store, yet by the time you get home, you no longer want to try them, so they get added to the collection for a later date. At least there are always a lot of drink options for guests to choose from.

“Is it alright if I come look what you’ve got? Hoon can be particular about like juice brands and stuff,” Yoongi responds, looking a little awkward about asking.

“Yoongi,” you start in an amused little tone as you rest a hand on his upper arm. “If anyone understands, it’s me, you don’t need to be embarrassed about asking.”

“Right, yeah, sorry.” He smiles at you, slightly sheepish, yet also grateful, before he follows you through to the kitchen. “Oh wow,” he mutters when you open the side of the double fridge reserved mostly for drinks, with some healthy snacks set on the bottom shelf for Taehyung to reach whenever he wants them. “That’s a lot of options.”

“Yeah, we’re a family of compulsive drink buyers it seems,” you muse with a little giggle as you step aside to give Yoongi the space to explore the options at his own pace.

“Buyers and not drinkers, it seems,” he jokes and you giggle again. Yoongi shoots you a quick look, lips curled up in a smile, before he turns his full attention to the bottles, cans, and cartons neatly arranged on the shelves.

“How about daddy, then?” you ask once you’ve topped up the water in the coffee machine ready for use. You hear items hitting one another and turn to find Yoongi fumbling to straighten the drinks he had knocked over. “You okay?”

“Y–yeah–yep!” he replies while quickly glancing at you, giving you a short view of the soft pink suddenly painting the high points of his cheeks.

“Alright,” your tone is a little suspicious because the man is too flustered to not be lying, but you decide to let him have his secrets. “So, what would you like to drink?”

“Oh uhm, a coffee would be great, thanks.”

“On it!”

Once Yoongi has grabbed a drink for Jihoon— and commented that it’s Jihoon’s favourite, so you make a mental note to buy more— he takes it through to the living room while you finish making the hot drinks, including a hot chocolate for Taehyung because the boy always wants one when you and Mingyu both have hot drinks. You’re pretty sure he likes it because it makes him feel involved, and maybe even like a mini adult, as the three of you sit with your matching mugs together.

As soon as you place the tray of steaming mugs onto the coffee table, Taehyung gasps excitedly and scoots over to sit on the floor up to the low table, pulling his favourite coaster— shaped like a daisy— forward for you to place his adorable little mug on with a little spoon beside it.

“Thank you!” he chirps, big eyes glued to the marshmallows bobbing in his mug and already picking up the spoon to scoop up one of the sweet treats.

“Here, you can help yourself, Jihoon,” you offer the boy as you place a few packets of sweet snacks down after removing them from the tray. Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to grab a packet of mini cookies, and thankfully, it encourages Jihoon to join the younger boy at the coffee table and pick a snack for himself.

“Babe, pass the marshmallows,” Mingyu calls, extending one arm towards the table and making a grabby hand.

“Manners, daddy,” Taehyung reminds.

“Please, babe, pass the marshmallows,” Mingyu corrects himself, making you grin to yourself amusedly while tossing over the tub of mini marshmallows.

“Yoongi, fancy something?” you check, motioning to the options.

“No, thanks,” he replies from where he’s settled comfortably on the sofa in one corner; Mingyu is in the other, so you plop down in the space in the middle. The sofa is large enough that there’s still room on either side of you for another adult, and you take advantage of that room to bring your legs up to cross under you comfortably.

Surprisingly, it feels like this is something the five of you often do; it feels natural to sit there with your drinks and snacks, the only sound the videos playing on the TV.

When you glance at Yoongi on your right, he looks pretty comfortable, eyes mostly on the TV as he sips at his coffee— making a pleased little expression every time the flavour coats his tongue, causing you to preen secretly, proud to have made him something he likes so much— but intermittently glancing down at his son to check in on the boy.

As far as you can tell, Jihoon looks content too as he ever so gradually makes his way through the snack he picked, and sips at his drink. It makes your lips curl up a little when you spot Jihoon making the same pleased face with his drink as his dad does his own. It’s endlessly endearing how much the boy takes after his father; how much he obviously looks up to the man to copy him, even subconsciously, as much as he does.

Although Taehyung usually jumps up after he finishes his hot chocolate— either to cuddle up to you, Mingyu, or a plushie; or to find something to do to get his fresh energy out—, he sits there today, eyes flickering to Jihoon on his right routinely. You can see that Taehyung has some energy to get out; he keeps fidgeting and adjusting his seated position frequently enough that Jihoon glances at him with a little furrow of his eyebrows.

“Tae, why don’t we go get your energy out, huh?” Mingyu suggests, already getting up. “Then after, maybe Jihoon will like to join us in the playroom, and we can watch that show you said you think he’ll like?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung enthuses, turning wide eyes on Jihoon. “We watch anime after I do my zoomies?” he requests. “It has many lots good songs! They are very pretty songs.”

“Oh, okay,” Jihoon agrees after taking a couple of seconds to consider it.

“Yay!” Taehyung cheers, getting to his feet to immediately run at his dad. Mingyu turns and darts off with a cheeky grin, and Taehyung laughs before happily following, determined to catch his dad. “I will get you!”

“Never!” Mingyu calls back, then the pair are out of the room, and you can hear them running through the kitchen, so you know Mingyu is taking Taehyung out to the back garden where they can screech and yell as they play as much as they like without disturbing the calm of the house. You’re not at all surprised when you hear Mingyu collide with the new stools at the breakfast bar, toppling them over while Taehyung cackles at his dad.

“I told him he’ll run into bigger stools,” you muse, glancing at Yoongi. “The old stools were smaller and tucked under the breakfast bar easily; these ones stick out a bit, but Gyu’s a giant, so we need giant stools, apparently.”

“The cons of being tall,” Yoongi replies with a little grin that makes you giggle.

After a few more minutes, Jihoon is done eating and glances at the sofa, so you shuffle over into the now empty corner, giving him space to join if he wants to. It makes you feel like you’ve done something right when he doesn’t hesitate to get up and clamber into your previous seat, leaving an equal distance on either side of him. You thought he’d sit nearer his dad— his source of comfort and safe space—, but he seems happy where he is. You smile to yourself as you turn your head away from him to focus back on the TV and let the calm envelop you.

By the time Taehyung and Mingyu return, pink cheeked and bringing a chill from the autumn air, you’ve managed to have a conversation with Jihoon. A very successful conversation about his favourite snacks and drinks if you do say so yourself. Yoongi barely even participated either, just at the start to help prompt Jihoon along to respond to your attempt at conversation, but then the boy seemed to relax and answered you easily enough. Admittedly, he’s still pretty withdrawn, but you still feel like it’s a big step and good sign; and judging by the tender-proud look on Yoongi’s face, he feels the same way.

“I got my zoomies out!” Taehyung announces once he toddles into the living room. He grabs his water bottle from the coffee table and sucks down a fair amount before looking expectantly at Jihoon, chest heaving as he catches his breath from drinking so much at once.

“I think Tae is trying to ask if you want to go watch anime now,” you state to Jihoon amusedly. Taehyung nods enthusiastically, then beams when Jihoon slides off the sofa.

“I’ll be right here,” Yoongi assures gently when Jihoon looks at him for support. For a second, it looks like Jihoon might return to his dad’s side, but he gathers his nerve and nods in understanding before turning to follow Taehyung out of the living room and upstairs to the playroom. You assume Mingyu is already there, based on the thud of something being dropped upstairs; you’re not even surprised by that at this point and don’t react to the soft thud.

“Let me clean up all this, then we can talk about February while they’re occupied,” you suggest, already getting up to gather all the mugs and empty wrappers onto the tray to take to the kitchen.

“I can help,” Yoongi offers, shuffling to the edge of his seat but you make a noise and wave him off.

“You’re our guest, you just sit. Plus, it’s easy enough for me to handle alone,” you assure, and prove your point by lifting the tray. “You can put something else on if you want,” you offer, motioning vaguely to the TV with a tilt of your head before leaving the living room.

Only a couple of minutes later, you’re back with fresh drinks for you both, and Yoongi is curiously flicking through the videos on the playlist still playing.

“This is a good playlist,” he comments once you’re sitting comfortably back in your corner, though now curled up with your shoulder against the back rest so you’re facing him instead of the TV. “I recognise some of the songs in the titles, but a lot I’ve never heard of. They’re all calming?”

“Yeah. They have a bunch more on their channel, but these ones work for Tae the best,” you answer, propping your head on your fist as you rest your elbow on the back of the sofa. “They also have some really upbeat ones too, and Tae listens to them when he wants to bounce around, but it’s mostly the calm playlist. I’ll share this playlist with you, but obviously you can make your own version, though Jihoon seems to like this one.”

“He really does. I tried to find the videos after that day in the hotel, but I didn’t really know what to search or anything, so I was just aimlessly scrolling for, like, an hour,” he admits with a chuckle before placing the remote back on the table to instead pick up his mug of steaming coffee to cup in his hands. He adjusts his position so that he’s angled more towards you and tucks his left foot under his right thigh to make it and easier position to be in. Weirdly, it makes you smile to yourself; he looks so comfortable and almost at home in your house despite it being the first time he’s visited. Something about it feels right to you, and your chest flutters with soft warmth.

You take a moment to silently appreciate the ease between you— and the man before you—, and only once he’s settled in his seat do you decide to start talking. “He seems okay so far, I think it’s a good sign, right?”

“Mm, definitely,” Yoongi confirms with a nod. “I think that by the time February comes around, and after spending more time together, he’ll be okay to stay for a night.”

“We can definitely do a trial or two beforehand; so that he can try it out while you’re still in town if he can’t handle it and needs to go home.”

“I’d really appreciate that. I mean, I appreciate all this anyway; you being so open and willing to try this out and look after him for me. I don’t exactly have anyone who I can rely on this much, only Kook and Jin, and they’re always busy, so it really means a lot to me that you’re giving us this chance.”

“You deserve to have someone to rely on like this, Yoongi. And the opportunity for a break and time to yourself while knowing your son is safe and in capable hands, somewhere he’s understood. Well, as best as we can understand him, of course. I’m not assuming I’ll know everything and be able to handle every eventuality by then, but that’s not even something we can say after a lifetime with a child. We’re still learning more about Tae all the time and I literally birthed him,” you joke.

Yoongi chuckles, nodding understandingly. “Yeah, I get it. Even kids without these extra needs will constantly be changing, learning, and growing, so it’s impossible to ever know everything about how to handle anything they or life may throw at us.”

“Exactly! The best we can do is prepare with what we know and do our best.” He hums in agreement. “With that in mind, what do I need to know about the cutie?”

“Well…” He lets out a breath then pulls his phone out. “I actually did write up a document with everything I could think of, just so I didn’t forget anything, though I still probably have. Is it okay if I send it to you? I didn’t want to just shove that on you without permission.”

“Of course, send away!” you assure, already grabbing your phone ready to read the document as soon as you receive it. “The more I know, the better. And with it written down, I can refer back to it when I need to.”

“Great, thanks. Some people can be funny about like, written instructions like this,” he says, more of a mumble as he focuses on sending the correct document to you on his phone.

“Mm, like you’re implying they’re incompetent and can’t do it without step-by-step guidance.”

“Yes!” Yoongi lifts his head to look at you with slightly widened eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean. Why do some people insist on making everything about them?” he huffs, almost pouting; it takes everything in you to not react to how cute he looks.

“One of life’s great mysteries,” you respond in a dramatically solemn tone that makes Yoongi’s almost sulky expression break as he laughs. “Does Jihoon know about the wedding?” you wonder as you open the document on your phone now that it’s come through successfully.

“He knows Wonwoo is getting married, but not that I might go. I don’t want to say anything to him until I know for certain.”

“Understandable. Tae obviously knows that Gyu is going but not about this.” You motion vaguely between the two of you before crawling across the cushions closer to him— unaware of the slightly alarmed expression that crosses his face at your unexpected move—, so that you can sit close enough to show him your screen. “Can you clarify on this?” you request and look at the man in time to see his posture relax, confusing you a little, but you aren’t given the chance to ponder on it as Yoongi peers at your screen then begins to explain in better detail what information on the document means.

By the time Yoongi and Jihoon leave that evening, you know Jihoon far better than you ever expected to— at least on paper—, and you feel far more confident that you can properly watch over the boy for a day while his dad is out of town.

Jihoon seems to relax a lot more too. You even hear him laughing cutely when Taehyung needs another round of garden zoomies with his dad, and Jihoon accompanies them outside— though doesn’t run around with them, but he does at least perch on the swing and watch the pair with a big smile.

Still, as much as the day seems to have been a great help, you and Yoongi both know that Jihoon is nowhere near ready for a sleepover without his dad— or even to spend a few hours at your house without the man—, so you make plans to meet every Saturday for the foreseeable future. You both hope that spending more time together will help ease Jihoon into feeling comfortable and safe with you and Taehyung, while also making sure that you can handle potential issues that may crop up while Yoongi is right there to teach you what his son needs to regulate and relax.

Even though you’ve agreed to not tell the boys about the potential sleepover— in worry of Taehyung getting upset if it doesn’t happen, and Jihoon feeling uneasy and therefore, unable to give you the chance to prove yourself to him—, you, of course, can’t hide the new plans from them, and let them know that the four of you are going to be spending time together regularly from now on. To no-one’s surprise, Taehyung is beyond excited about it, whereas Jihoon seems a little uncertain, but his smile doesn’t completely fade away with the news, and that really feels like a good sign.

As agreed, the next Saturday, you and Taehyung meet Yoongi at Jihoon’s favourite playpark.

When you arrive, you understand why Jihoon prefers this one out of all of the parks in the city. It’s nestled away almost secretly amongst a patch of trees in the middle of a neighbourhood that you’ve never even driven through before. There doesn’t seem to really be anything but residential buildings in the neighbourhood as far as you can see, not even a little family run restaurant or convenience store, so you can easily imagine that it’s always as quiet as it is now. Honestly, if you didn’t love your house so much, you would even consider having a curious look for house listings in this neighbourhood, it really is so calm.

“Hey, glad you found it,” Yoongi greets you when you get close enough to where he’s sitting on a bench just outside of the gated play park, with his arms already full of Taehyung— who hadn’t hesitated to run off ahead of you the second he saw his favourite teacher.

“It really is a hidden treasure, huh,” you muse, taking a seat on the bench and picking up your son’s backpack from where he’s carelessly dropped it onto the damp grass, now running off into the park. As you sit, you can easily spot Jihoon perched on the climbing frame, contently watching the world go by. You’re a little worried that Taehyung is going to ruin the older boy’s calm, yet Jihoon notices Taehyung approaching— hard to miss with the calls of “Ji! Ji!”—, and smiles a little before moving aside, silently inviting Taehyung up to join him.

“Mm, a previous student’s grandmother actually told me about it a couple years back,” Yoongi informs as you both watch your sons greet one another once Taehyung has clambered up the holds to the platform Jihoon is on. “She brought all her grandkids here, and said the locals look after the park well.”

“Oh, that’s really nice that they do that.” He hums in agreement. “I’m surprised we’re the only ones here if the locals love it so much.”

“Sometimes others come along, but I think there aren’t many kids who live locally. I think this neighbourhood has become a kind of retirement village,” he says with a chuckle. “There are a couple retirement homes; the block opposite the entrance is one, actually. I’m always getting comments from old folk about how cute Hoonie is, so, heads up, if any come along, they will coo over Tae.”

“It’s exactly what he deserves, he’s adorable and deserves all the cheek pinches,” you declare with a tinge of theatrics that make Yoongi laugh.

“Okay, I can’t even deny that; he really is such a sweet kid.”

“So’s Jihoon.”

“Yeah.” He lets out a little breath that sounds like it’s full of nothing but love for his son. “We did pretty good, huh?”

“We did indeed.”

The two of you sit and watch your sons play together for a while in content silence, just enjoying that the weather is still just nice enough to do this without worry of any of you getting cold.

“It’s Jihoon’s birthday soon; it’s on a Friday, but I thought seeing as we’re meeting on Saturdays anyway, would you two like to come over for lunch and cake? Jin and Cel will be there.”

“Oh, yeah, we’d love to,” you agree without hesitation, smiling at him. “Anything on the no way in hell list where gifts are concerned?”

“Mm, not that I can think of. You have that document with his triggers and such on, so I trust you won’t get anything that will set him off. And thankfully, he doesn’t like anything that annoys me really, so that’s not a concern,” he chuckles.

“Lucky, Taehyung loves glitter,” you comment, giving him a pained look that makes him laugh.

“I’ll buy him a whole set for his birthday,” he jokes, and laughs a little louder when you gently hit his arm in silent complaint. “I’m kidding, I’d never buy glitter as a gift, that’s just a giant fuck you to a parent.”

“And slime.”

“Yes!” he agrees. “And playdough. My parents bought Hoon so much playdough when he was little, and he was obsessed with it. I found it all over the place for days after he played with it.”

“So that’s a no to a giant playdough set?” you tease.

“Ugh, don’t give me flashbacks,” he retorts, making you snicker a laugh. “You know, I’m not even sure how he’d feel about it anymore.”

“Tae is either really into it, or doesn’t care at all, and it usually changes part way, so even he’s learned to just avoid it because he doesn’t want to tidy it up once he loses interest and the texture starts to get to him.”

“Least he learned.” You hum in agreement. “I actually meant to say that he doesn’t really want a party or anything, for his birthday.”

“Oh?” you turn your head to look at Yoongi curiously, though he’s watching the boys compete who can swing highest on the baby swings, despite the fact the swings more suited for their age group are perfectly available. You just hope that they don’t get stuck in them where their butts have dipped into the centres, legs flopping over the edge unable to fit.

“He’s been really into Japan since Tae gave him that snow globe and got him into anime, so I suggested we go in the winter break for a late birthday slash Christmas gift. Hoon’s really into the thought, even if he’s anxious about it too, but he actually mentioned Taehyung going too, as he’s the one that introduced him to anime. So, I was wondering if you guys would be interested in that? Going to Japan with us at the end of December?” he asks, now turning his head to look at your surprised expression. “Not like a full holiday together or anything, we can do our own things and just have a day to celebrate Hoon’s birthday, or an afternoon or something, depending.”

“Tae really wants to see the snowy mountains for his birthday,” you inform, earning a questioning look. “His birthday is at the end of December, so we were already planning to go to Japan,” you explain, lips turning up into an amused grin.

“Oh.” Yoongi’s expression quickly mirrors yours. “How convenient.”

“Mm, especially as Tae said he wants Jihoon there.”

“Oh, really?” The man’s expression softens, looking so touched by your son’s wish to include his son in the boy’s birthday plans. “I’m not sure how Hoon will handle the snow, but celebrating their birthdays together sounds great.”

“We could travel there and back together, rent places near each other so that Gyu and I can support you with Jihoon, if you want?”

“That would actually be really good; I’m not great at travelling honestly, so knowing I have another pair of adults there to help will lessen a lot of my anxiety.”

“Then it’s a plan!” you declare, offering a hand for him to shake.

“Will Mingyu be okay with it?” he checks, looking amused, and hand hovering as if he’s waiting for the final confirmation before sealing the deal.

“I don’t see why not. But I can call him now to make sure,” you reason, already reaching into your coat pocket to grab your phone and dial Mingyu’s number.

“Hi, baby!” Mingyu chirps brightly as soon as the call connects, and as it’s on speakerphone, Yoongi hears and is visibly amused by it.

“You’re on speaker, Yoongi’s sitting with me,” you warn before your ex-husband can say something weirdly suggestive about your time with Yoongi— like he already did this morning, and last night, and multiple times since last weekend.

“Hi, Yoongi!” Mingyu greets.

“Hi, Yoongi!” Jungkook’s familiar voice yells, then all you hear is the pair squabbling; Mingyu complaining about Jungkook yelling in his ear, and Jungkook declaring that it’s Mingyu’s fault for not already having the call on speakerphone.

“Still so weird that your ex-husband is my baby brother’s best friend,” Yoongi mutters to you as the two continue to argue childishly. You only hum in agreement.

Honestly, you’re a little distracted by how Yoongi doesn’t seem to be reacting negatively in any way in regard to your connection to his brother. Jungkook must’ve told him by now about the two of you hooking up at Seokjin’s wedding, so the fact that Yoongi knows and isn’t reacting to that information at all can only mean that he really doesn’t think of you in that way at all. Yoongi has no interest in you past very platonic, and that makes a sour drop form in your chest.

It’s not like you’ve been deluding yourself into thinking the man has any romantic or sexual interest in you whatsoever. But there was a part of you that hoped that one day, he might. Having the confirmation that it won’t happen hurts more than you thought it would. Maybe, just maybe, you like Min Yoongi more than you realised.

“Guys,” you interrupt the bickering duo before you can get too deep into your self-pity; you can save that for later.

“Yeah, babe?” Mingyu asks, and Jungkook mimics him before cackling at the audible slap Mingyu must land on Jungkook in retaliation.

“Yoongi and I have been talking about the boys’ birthdays.”

“Oh?”

“Mm, Jihoon wants to visit Japan, and Yoongi was thinking of going at the end of December too. Considering both boys want the other there to celebrate and experience the home of anime together, we thought combining the trips would be a good idea. What do you think?”

“Hell yeah!” Mingyu cheers, sounding genuinely excited. “Man, we’re going to have so much fun. Has Jihoon been skiing before? Doesn’t matter, we’re going to go and I’m going to take a million videos of them waddling around like penguins in their snowsuits.”

“I think he’s in,” you muse to Yoongi over Mingyu’s excited rambling.

“Me too!” Jungkook exclaims. “I’m coming with you. I want a family Japan trip!”

“Yeah!” Mingyu enthuses. “Kookie can come along, right, babe? We can take the boys out and you two can chill at the accommodation!” he suggests.

“I mean, that does sound pretty good,” you say, looking at Yoongi in wait for his reaction.

“You can come, if you promise not to bring strangers back to the accommodation for sex, Kook,” Yoongi replies reasonably, landing a stern look on the phone in your hand as if his brother will see it.

“I won’t!” Jungkook promises. “It’s family time.”

“Alright, then I have no problem with it,” Yoongi says, and the two best friends on the other end of the call cheer happily, making you both laugh.

“Are you coming home for dinner tonight, Gyu?” you ask.

“Mm, no, we’re meeting the guys.”

“Okay, have fun both of you, and tell the guys I said hi.”

“Will do, baby. Have fun with the boys and Yoongi. Bye, Yoongi!” After the four of you have said goodbye properly, you end the call so that you can lock your phone and tuck it back away in your pocket safely.

“Have you looked into accommodation or anything yet?” Yoongi asks as the two of you resettle with eyes on the boys, where they’re now laid on the table of a picnic bench just outside of the fenced park to cloud gaze, pointing out different shapes to one another. You’re not close enough to hear what they’re saying, but you just know that Taehyung is likely coming up with imaginative stories based on the characters he finds in the fluff.

“Sort of, but only briefly. I think Gyu bookmarked some things on the family computer though. If you have no plans, do you want to come back for dinner, and we can discuss it more while the boys play? You can also teach me how to cook in a way Jihoon likes.”

“Oh, yeah, actually, that sounds really good, thanks.”

“This one looks good,” Yoongi says where he’s sitting at the breakfast bar with your laptop to research different accommodations and options while you cook dinner. At first, Yoongi had helped, just so that you know how to cut and prepare the foods so that Jihoon will eat it all, but then you shooed him off to your laptop where it’s been sitting on the dining table since last night. Though he moved it to the breakfast bar so that you can easier talk to one another without raising your voices and risking he boys overhearing.

Upon returning to the house earlier, the two of you had intended to check out the options Mingyu has bookmarked on the family computer since the idea of going to visit snowy mountains in December first cropped up back in summer. But as the boys are in the living room making use of the almost absurdly large TV to watch the same anime show they started last weekend, it’s not exactly possible to use the PC as it’s in the living room too, and neither of you want to risk the boys seeing what you’re doing until it’s set in stone.  

“Mh?” you question, peering over and leaning onto the counter as he turns the laptop so that you can see the screen. “Oh, that’s pretty.”

“Yeah. The resort itself is pretty small and very private. It’s pretty expensive, I won’t lie but I figure it’s not really an issue for any of us?” his tone lifts at the end into a last-second question, as if he has suddenly realised that maybe you and Mingyu aren’t as financially comfortable as he previously assumed; or at the very least, you may not be comfortable with him making comments about the number in your bank account.

“I mean, I assume it’ll be fine unless it’s ridiculously extortionate pricing,” you reason amusedly. “And you have producer money still, I take it?”

“Oh, yeah. Royalties and all that,” he answers simply and nods, leaning awkwardly around so that he can also see the screen without turning it away from your view, and clicks through to find a particular accommodation and show you the price. He’s right, it is expensive, but he’s also right in that it’s not an issue. “There are multiple cabins but they’re all only two bed, so I don’t know if your family are okay with you sharing two rooms? Hoon and I can share one in our cabin and Kook can have the other; I’m fine with sharing a bed with Jihoon and he doesn’t mind either.”

“Oh yeah, that’s fine with us. Gyu and I usually room when we go on family trips.” That earns a surprised, and tentatively questioning look from Yoongi. It’s clear he wants to question why you still share a bed with your ex-husband, but he doesn’t know if he can. “I know, everyone finds it weird, but we don’t. We still consider each other our most precious friend, and nothing is ever uncomfortable. Other than when he insists on cuddling in hot weather, forgetting he sweats like fuck during his sleep. It’s pretty gross, I won’t lie,” you admit, earning a little snort of a laugh from the man.

“Sounds it.”

“Mm, but he’s cute, so he gets away with it.” You shrug and turn your attention back to the pans on the hob to check on the progress of dinner, so Yoongi settles back onto his stool and turns the laptop to face him again.

It’s quiet for a few minutes as you both work on your separate tasks, just the clicking of the laptop keys and clink of utensils filling the air. It feels weirdly domestic, and you have to force that thought out of your head before your mind clings to the image. The last thing you need is to get delusional about the future in store for you and Yoongi. Going on a family trip together doesn’t help either, but at least you’ll be in different cabins, so you won’t have to see him first thing in the morning and share sleepy breakfasts together; that really would fuck with your mind too much.

“Oh, these two cabins are pretty much next to each other,” he comments. “One has two double rooms, and the other a king-sized room and a bunk room. I think seeing as you’re going to be sharing with a sweaty giant, it would make sense for you guys to have the cabin with the king-sized room.”

“I’m going to tell Gyu you called him a sweaty giant,” you tease.

“Please don’t; he could break me so easily, he’s huge,” he mutters, eyes a little wide as he no doubt thinks about how buff your best friend is.

“I’m sure Kookie would come to the rescue of his big brother.”

“Nah, he’d say I deserve if for shit talking his bestie.”

“Okay, probably true; he’s always the first to defend Mingyu for anything,” you muse. “You have nothing to worry about anyway, Gyu would never hit you, not on purpose anyway. He’s clumsy as anything. But he wouldn’t hit you for that, just probably pout at you.”

“That might even be worse,” Yoongi mumbles almost dumbly. “Tae’s pout is lethal, and he has to have learned it from somewhere.”

“Oh yeah, he takes after his dad in most ways, the puppy eyes and pout especially,” you confirm, nodding.

“I’d rather Mingyu just punch me in the face than that,” Yoongi decides, making you giggle amusedly. “So, king-size and bunk room sound good to you?” he checks as he turns his gaze back to the laptop screen. You hum in confirmation. “They also have an option to have a vehicle rented and waiting at the cabin; and they seem to do one big enough for us to all fit, what do you think of that? I know we’ll be doing our own things a lot, but I figure we don’t really need two cars when there’s trains and buses and stuff.”

“Yeah, makes sense to me. We’ll put all our names down so any of us can drive it, yeah?”

“Mm, yeah, can do,” he agrees before falling quiet once again.

Although it took him a while, Jihoon ate everything on his plate happily, and you’re still riding that high of approval even once you and Yoongi are done cleaning up from dinner and are sitting in the living room looking at your laptop together while the boys get some air in the back garden while it’s still early enough to allow it.

“I think it’s perfect,” you decide once you’re both done thoroughly reading over the website of the resort, checking its location in relation to activities and necessities— such as the closest grocery store and public transport stations—, and that the cabins that suit your families are available for the time you want.

“Mm, do you need to check with Mingyu before booking?” Yoongi wonders, glancing at you briefly then back to where the curser hovers over the “book” option.

“No, he’ll go along with anything; he knows I’d look into it properly first,” you assure, and reach out to press his finger down onto the button with a giggle. He huffs a soft laugh then the two of you get started filling out the booking form as a bundle with both cabins and the car rental. “Oh, let me get my purse,” you mutter when it comes to the payment screen, and jump up to go find your purse so that you can grab your bank card. Though by the time you’ve returned, there’s a payment confirmation screen up, and Yoongi is tucking his wallet back into his jeans.

“You can send me the money later or whatever,” he decides, waving a dismissive hand. You just hum, knowing that one of you would have to send the other your family’s half of the money anyway, so it doesn’t really matter whose card details are put in for the resort info. “Let’s look at flights, yeah?”

The two of you spend a little while comparing flight deals and travel plans, including how to get to the accommodation from the airport, before deciding on the best method and overall deal, which you book on your card. You make sure to purchase the best seats, with room for the boys to wriggle and move as much as they need to, while potentially disturbing as few people as possible if either of them are overloaded and have a meltdown. You both think it shouldn’t happen, because the boys have been okay on the last flights, but you’d also rather prepare for the worst-case scenario.

Not long after you’re done finalising everything and dealing with the financial situation between you two, the boys come inside, cheeks chill-pinkened and hair a little wild from playing in the gentle breeze. And they both look so genuinely happy. It makes your chest warm to see how content they are together; how they truly seem to enjoy one another’s company so much and can find ways to play together that suits them both enough to have these precious smiles glued to their faces.

“C’mere,” you prompt, moving along the sofa to sit in the opposite corner as Yoongi, and pat the space between you. The pair both clamber up onto the sofa, and Taehyung immediately cuddles up to you. Although he doesn’t cuddle into his dad, Jihoon does sit close to Yoongi’s side, and ever so slightly leans into him. You watch Yoongi’s expression soften out; you can easily imagine that it always feels so special for Jihoon to initiate affection as it’s so rare, even if it’s something as small as this.

“Boys, are you able to listen for a bit?” Yoongi questions; you can’t help but immediately press your lips together, trying to hide your amused smile due to Yoongi using what you have to assume is his teacher voice. It works though, and both boys turn to look at him with attentive eyes. “So, we were thinking, as it’s something you both want to do for your birthday treats at the end of the year, we will all go to Japan together.”

Instantly, Taehyung gasps loud and sits upright, scrambling up onto his knees. You have to pull him back and onto your thighs to hold him tight, press his soul back into his body to prevent him from exploding out and landing on the father-son duo. You think that Yoongi wouldn’t really mind, and would likely just find it amusing, but you’re very positive that Jihoon would not be impressed.

“We go together?!” your son screeches. Jihoon flinches but doesn’t react to Taehyung otherwise. He’s still staring up at his dad with big eyes, but now his mouth is open in shock; you can’t tell if that’s a bad reaction or not.

“Yeah. We’ll have separate cabins, but we’ll travel together and spend some time together. Definitely to celebrate your birthdays, but we’ll also do our own things too.”

“I am excited Japan to go with you and Ji!”

“I’m excited too,” Yoongi replies, looking like he means it entirely, though there is a little concern in his eyes when they flicker to Jihoon, but he doesn’t linger on his son, no doubt knowing that Jihoon needs some time to work through the idea on his own.

“Oh,” Taehyung says, suddenly deflating as he turns his head to frown at you. “Daddy will be sad.”

“Oh, baby, daddy is coming too, silly,” you assure and kiss his forehead, smiling yourself when he’s smiling again in the few seconds it takes for you to press your lips to his skin and lean back. “And Uncle Kookie is coming along.”

You have no choice but to let go of your son when he starts to wriggle so much that his bony butt digs into your thigh, making you silently wince. Taehyung is more than happy to be set free to allow him to bounce and jump around the living room, clapping and making excited sounds, unable to keep his joy locked up inside. If it wasn’t for Jihoon, you wouldn’t want to even attempt to get Taehyung to try and calm down quite yet— you know he needs to get this out—, but Jihoon has curled his shoulders up to his ears and put his hands over them as he stares intently down at his legs, legs bouncing agitatedly.

Though before you can do more than adjust your position with the intention of reaching out to grab Taehyung and pull him back onto your lap to squeeze again— knowing it genuinely does help him sometimes—, Yoongi is sliding off of the sofa and approaching Taehyung. You watch intrigued as Yoongi kneels down in front of the boy and starts to quietly sing some notes. Slowly, Taehyung stops bouncing so much, his eyes and head stop rapidly moving— unable to focus on one thing— and instead, lock onto Yoongi’s mouth. Then, Taehyung’s sounds and hands stop their noise so that he can mimic his teacher, matching the notes with his own voice, though his hands continue to flap and flick at his sides for a few more moments.

“Good job,” Yoongi praises gently when Taehyung has calmed a lot and they’ve run through the scales multiple times together. “Would you like to show me the rhythm game you mentioned earlier?”

Taehyung nods and grabs Yoongi’s hand to excitedly lead him over to the cosy corner; the corner of the living room with an extra fluffy rug, cushions in all shapes and sizes, and a huge beanbag chair that Taehyung always sinks into and gets partially covered in, but he loves it. The pair sit on that beanbag together— Yoongi lets out a little yelp with how he immediately sinks into it quicker than expected, and Taehyung giggles— with the boy’s tablet to play the new, colourful rhythm game while sharing earphones so that you and Jihoon don’t hear the music playing.

Seeing that Jihoon still looks kind of tense, you stick to the trusty and tried method of relaxing him and turn on the soothing playlist— which you know the boy watches every day after school now since you sent his dad the link to it last weekend. As soon as the first video plays, Jihoon’s head lifts so that his eyes can find the screen, and immediately, as if just seeing the opening of the video is enough, his shoulders sink, loosening until his hands lower to his lap to let the soothing music reach his ears uninterrupted.

After a few minutes of sitting and watching the screen with the boy, you get up and go to the kitchen to prepare drinks; coffee for you and Yoongi, hot chocolate for Taehyung, and his favourite juice carton for Jihoon. Plus, a few snacks for everyone to help themselves to because Taehyung is so used to having mini cookies with his hot chocolate that he gets entirely thrown off and antsy if you don’t give him any these days.

While you’re waiting for the coffee machine to finish, you hear little socked feet enter the room and just know it’s Jihoon without looking; you know your son’s footsteps too well to confuse him for anyone else. Curiously, you look over and find Jihoon shuffling shyly closer to you, fingers fiddling with the hem of his jumper.

“Everything okay?” you check, keeping your tone soft. He nods, but hovers like he has something he wants to say, so you wait quietly, giving him the time he needs.

“I…I’m excited to go to Japan with you guys,” he announces in a shy little tone after a few more moments, when you’re setting the drinks on the tray now that the last drink is ready.

“We’re excited too,” you reply, smiling at him when he flickers his gaze up to you, before looking away again.

“Can Tae come over after school so we can watch videos about Japan together? I…I don’t know what Japan is like, so I want to learn before we go.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely, Jihoon; I’m sure Tae would love that. We’ll have to check with your daddy first though.” Jihoon nods in understanding, seeming not surprised that you’ve said that his dad’s permission is needed. Though he does look like he has both relaxed and lit up a little at your permission, as if he is truly excited about doing research with Taehyung ready for the trip.

“I will ask later,” he declares, then glances at the tray quickly, face twisting slightly.

“Oh, do you not want the juice today?” you ask, reaching out for it.

“Can…can I have a hot chocolate too, please?”

“Of course,” you assure. “I’ll put the juice back in the fridge and you can get it whenever you want, okay?”

“Okay.” He smiles, looking relieved, before he turns and toddles back to the living room leaving you to make him a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. The boy is just too sweet to not spoil when you can.

Soon enough, it’s the day after Jihoon’s birthday, and you and Taehyung are going to the Min home to celebrate the little boy.

Though as Jihoon’s birthday was yesterday, Taehyung insisted that he needed a gift to take to school for the boy that isn’t the Studio Ghibli boxset that Taehyung is very excited to give to Jihoon today. Which resulted in you and Taehyung spending all of Thursday after school making a whole bunch of bracelets, keyrings, and other tiny little crafts for Taehyung to pick the very best of to give to Jihoon during their lunchbreak yesterday. Honestly, you’re pretty sure Jihoon won’t wear the bracelets because they will likely annoy him, but you think he’ll appreciate the sentiment anyway; he’s a good kid like that.

“Yoongi!” Taehyung calls as soon as the man opens the front door moments after Taehyung has knocked a little tune onto the door. You and Yoongi both laugh softly at Taehyung’s never-ending enthusiasm for calling his teacher by his first name at every possible chance.

“Hi, Tae,” Yoongi replies, easily accepting the big hug the boy gives him as if he didn’t see the man at school yesterday.

Due to the afterschool visits Taehyung has on Wednesdays for the boys to continue their self-imposed Japan research project, he doesn’t hesitate to put his shoes and coat in the correct places, and skip off further into the apartment, making himself at home easily while you work on removing your coat and boots.

“He’s really made himself at home already, huh?” you muse, and Yoongi chuckles, hanging up your coat for you as you work on wrestling your boots off your feet. You knew they’d be a pain in the ass to remove, but Taehyung insisted you wear them because he’s wearing his own tiny version. Fortunately, his boots have zips on the side so they’re easy to get on and off; yours, however, only have laces holding them together.

“Yeah, it’s cute.”

“He hasn’t gotten too comfortable, has he?” you worry, wincing a little at the thought of Taehyung unknowingly overstepping boundaries in his excitement.

“No, not at all. He’s as polite as always, you don’t have to worry,” Yoongi assures. “I honestly can’t even imagine him overstepping.”

While you’re still fighting with your boots— and Yoongi watches amusedly as you swear under your breath at the laces, and yourself for being weak to your son wanting to match—, the apartment door opens and in steps Seokjin and Celeste.

“Take this before I drop it,” Seokjin says, skipping over any greeting to thrust the large cakebox in his arms over to Yoongi. For his part, Yoongi takes it without issue, just an eyeroll, as if he’s used to this very scene playing out.

“Hey,” Celeste greets as she perches by your side on the bench to remove her own boots, her far easier to remove boots. “Those don’t look like fun to put on, or take off,” she muses when you’ve finally shoved your boot off with a victorious sound.

“They’re really not, but I am a mother easily manipulated by a cute face,” you reply with a theatrical sigh, making her laugh.

“She really understands that,” Seokjin says, already sans coat and shoes, and taking the cakebox back from his best friend. You and Yoongi exchange a surprised look before looking between the couple.

“Are you pregnant?” you ask Celeste quietly, not wanting to risk the boys overhearing.

“No,” she answers with a laugh.

“I meant my cute face,” Seokjin informs. You and Yoongi exchange another matching look, this one world-weary, and Seokjin immediately squawks in offense. “Hey!”

“I’m going to ban you from my apartment if you say shit like that here,” Yoongi warns, though judging by Seokjin’s eye roll, it’s not the first time Yoongi’s made that very same empty threat towards the broad-shouldered male.

The four of you make your way together through the apartment, with Yoongi by your side to point out where the different rooms are as it’s your first time in his home. You have to admit, something about it feels exactly like Yoongi; homely, comforting, with enough quirks and knickknacks to give little pops of parts of him that you’ve not had the chance to see much of yet. Of course, there’s also a lot of Jihoon in the apartment, and in some parts it seems more Jihoon than Yoongi, so you have to assume that those areas— like the armchair in the living room with a soft, anime printed blanket, and plushie draped on the seat— are the boy’s preferred spots.

The living room is empty of life, so you all walk down the hallway to pop your heads into Jihoon’s bedroom, where he’s sitting on the floor with Taehyung, and showing him what must be new figurines he got for his birthday yesterday, based on how Taehyung is looking at them with such awe as if he’s never seen them before. You know your son well enough to know that he definitely would’ve familiarised himself with them on previous visits if they were already in Jihoon’s possession.

“Hi, birthday boy! Seokjin crows, though he’s regulating his volume to keep it at a level he knows Jihoon can handle, without losing any of the playful enthusiasm from his tone.

“Hi, Uncle Jin,” Jihoon replies, then smiles at you and Celeste— greeting you both by name—, before he looks aside, shy under all the attention.

“Did daddy spoil you yesterday?” Seokjin coos, walking over to squat down with the boys and look at the figurines without touching. You recall a note on the document that Yoongi wrote for you about his son, stating that Jihoon can be very particular about his precious items, and doesn’t even let Yoongi touch them sometimes, so it’s always best to tread carefully with Jihoon’s personal possessions. Seokjin must know that information from knowing the boy since he was a baby.

“No,” Jihoon replies. “This is from Uncle Kookie,” he informs, motioning to the collection of figurines.

“Oh? Daddy didn’t spoil you? The audacity!” The theatrics makes both boys giggle, and Seokjin smiles, pleased at himself for making the pair laugh— and so cutely too. “Well, Cel and I will have to make up for that, won’t we?” he winks, then motions Celeste over, so the woman approaches and places the gift bag in her hands down.

It’s only now that Jihoon tentatively reaches for it and his jumper sleeve pulls back, that you notice two of the bracelets Taehyung made for him tied securely around the little boy’s wrist. Your lips turn up and you watch in content silence as Jihoon and Taehyung coo over the gifts the couple bought the boy.

When you glance at Yoongi a little on your left, he’s wearing the same soft expression and little smile as you can feel on your own face.

The six of you enjoy a lunch consisting of all of Jihoon’s favourite foods and drinks, followed by the cake Seokjin supplied. The birthday song isn’t sung, and you’re honestly glad about that because you always feel awkward singing it, let alone being the centre of attention; you can imagine that Jihoon would hate being sung to like that.

As soon as they’ve washed their hands and faces when they’re done eating, Jihoon and Taehyung excitedly settle on the sofa to watch one of the movies in the box set Jihoon had been genuinely thrilled with upon opening— he had lit up so brightly and beamed at you, and said his thanks multiple times as he read the list of movies included. You’re not sure which movie they pick to play, but the pair are both grinning as they sit tucked up under Jihoon’s anime blanket side by side, Jihoon holding his plushie from his chair, and Taehyung holding one from the boy’s bedroom— which Yoongi tells you Taehyung always holds when here, so Yoongi is planning to get Taehyung one of the weighted plushies for his birthday.

“Goddammit, they’re so cute,” Seokjin mumbles a little while later when he returns to join adult time at the kitchen table, once he’s back from the bathroom and stopping to hover in the living room doorway to watch the boys for a few moments.

“Yep,” you confirm simply. “Speaking of kids, I thought you were going to get started on your own on your first honeymoon?” you wonder, knowing that it’s not a sensitive topic; both Seokjin and Celeste have been open with you about it, about both doing fertility tests last year ready to expand their family. You know that medically, they should be more than able to conceive, and they’ve certainly had the time to try. Plus, neither had looked downtrodden or upset earlier when you questioned if Celeste is pregnant, so you are confident that they haven’t been having issues in that regard.

“We decided to wait a little longer,” Celeste answers. “But next year, we’ll be parents.” She sounds nothing but confident and certain that you nod, accepting her words easily. You’re already mentally planning an adorable, but absurd, gift you can buy for the baby that will outdo the absurdly large elephant plushie Seokjin bought for Taehyung when he was born. It still lives in Taehyung’s bedroom, and the boy sometimes drags it around the house to join him in his activities.

“And speaking of our wedding,” Seokjin says, grinning at you mischievously in a way you really don’t trust. It makes you want to shut him up before he can say whatever is on his mind, assuming it’s going to be something stupid, but you’re also very curious about what exactly is going on in that freaky head of his. “You finally gave in to Jungkookie, huh?”

“What?” Yoongi blurts out in a mutter that sounds mostly confused, but like he’s made an assumption he doesn’t really want to be true.

“Your baby brother has been trying to get her into bed with him ever since the divorce, and I saw them head hand in hand to his room at the hotel,” Seokjin answers, waving at you vaguely with the hand he’s been using to pick at the contents of the tray of cut fruit and veggies still left on the table for everyone to help themselves too, even if everything else has been cleaned up already.

It’s now that you see Yoongi’s expression rapidly change through multiple emotions before turning eerily blank, that you learn that despite Jungkook having assured you he’d tell his brother about the two of you, he hasn’t. “He didn’t tell you,” you realise, voice a quiet mumble.

“Why would he? Not my business,” Yoongi replies, tone a little harsh as he fiddles with his mug between his hands.

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew,” Seokjin apologises, looking nothing but guilty as he frowns at his best friend.

“It’s not my fucking business,” Yoongi repeats and gets to his feet. “Bathroom break,” he announces as he leaves.

“Shit, I really thought he knew,” Seokjin says, turning his attention to you.

“Me too. Kook said he’ll talk to him, but I guess he forgot.” You sigh. “He’ll…get over it right? Being left out?” you question worriedly.

Seokjin’s expression does something you don’t quite understand, but it makes your stomach twist a little, uneasy, like you’re missing something big. You don’t like it, so you look away from him and distract yourself by getting up to clean up the empty mugs, washing them by hand as the dishwasher is already turned on, and you don’t want to face the couple right now.

When Yoongi returns, he’s off; like he’s withdrawn into himself a little, and it makes you unsure how to react, what you’re supposed to do. It continues all afternoon and gets worse when Seokjin and Celeste leave do to their weekly grocery shop.

Although Yoongi is interacting with the boys to respond to their comments and questions about the movie you’re all watching— another from the boxset—, he barely even glances your way. It feels like the physical space between you turns into more than that, like he’s putting his walls back up, and it hurts. Hurts so much that as soon as the movie is over, you tell Taehyung that it’s time to go home. He tries to convince you to stay for “just one more movie”, but you’re firm, and he doesn’t push, knowing that it won’t get him what he wants.

While Taehyung sings along to the radio in his seat behind you on the drive home, your thoughts keep turning back to Yoongi’s blank expression; the wall building; the pain in your chest. All you can do is hope with everything in you that the friendship that has only just started to build, isn’t about to fall to pieces at your feet.

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Lee Jihoon was a simple man and wasn’t someone who wanted too much out of life. He just wanted to live his life quietly and comfortably. He didn’t need all the things capitalism told society they needed.

He didn’t need the latest car model, happily driving around in a previously owned model. He didn’t need a large home with more rooms than people living there, he was content with his two bedroom home that was big enough for him. His clothes weren’t fancy luxury brands, with a lot of it thrifted and second hand. As long as they were comfortable and fit well, he was happy.

He had some of the best friends a man could ask for, and a cat that loved him.

If only everything in his life was simple.

You were the clerk at his favorite little corner shop, working nearly every time he came in, always greeting customers with a bright smile and a happy ‘hello’.  Now, he would be lying if he didn’t think you were one of the prettiest people he had ever seen, or that your smile didn’t brighten his day. He would definitely be lying if it didn’t settle in his chest in a way that wasn’t so simple.

He had to convince himself that he wasn’t special compared to the next customer to enter the small shop, nor was he the only one who would get that cute smile and greeting. He wasn’t the only one who would stay back after their purchases to chat with you, everyone would. You treated everyone like an old friend, always remembering little things about each person that came to your till.

“How’s your wife doing? I do hope you are helping with the baby and taking him when she needs to rest.” You playfully scold Chan when he would come in for things for his wife and newborn son. “If you need anything though, let me know. I can always come by on one of my days off with dinner and watch him while you two have some time to yourselves.”

“Did the recipe work? I know she had to of loved it.” You giggled with Seungcheol after you’d given him one of your favorite recipes to help impress his girlfriend, only to learn he burnt it and they ordered pizza instead. “Oh well, maybe next time.”

“Have I told you that you have the coolest robot in the entire world? I’m super jealous that it can shoot lasers.” You humored a little girl who would be clinging to a little robot action figure whenever she was in, before chatting her mother about their dinner plans.

So, when you would ask about his cat, how his music is going, or bring up something he mentioned in passing Jihoon had to remind himself that you were only doing it to be friendly. You were like this with everyone, and he was no different than the next person. You were simply just doing your job.

Except there were times that did make him wonder. There was a shine to your eyes when he would walk in, sometimes your greeting would be brighter, and your smile would sometimes soften to a shyer one when he would stay back to talk to you. While your laugh would be a little louder when he would make a joke, or you would take to chewing your bottom lip more.

Making you even prettier than you already were.

But he had to remind himself that he wasn’t any more special than the next person to come to her counter. It was probably simpler that way. Only he didn’t see the way your eyes would follow him when he would walk in or see the way your hand balled up into a fist when he would leave.

Wishing you had said something more and make your interest known.

Every weekend when spring starts the center of town would be filled with vendor booths, crowds of people from surrounding towns and would go until the end of summer. Selling different things like candles, candies, baked goods, trinkets, clothes, fruit and vegetables that were in season. Other booths would sell hot foods and cool drinks for people to enjoy as they browse, with some offering homemade ice cream when the days got hot.

It wasn’t the type of thing that Jihoon would usually go to, finding it was always too crowded and most the items being sold would just add clutter to one’s home, but he did find some of the food to be pretty decent. So, him being there on a Saturday wasn’t by his own choice, but his friend Wonwoo who was being dragged by his wife.

She had insisted that her husband needed to get out of the house more, and somehow this also meant that Jihoon did too.

Which he wouldn’t have exactly minded, had they not disappeared into the crowd as soon as they got there, leaving him to browse the booths alone. Hands in his jeans pocket, avoiding eye contact with the vendors as he browsed; not wanting to give them a chance to talk to him or attempt to sell him anything. Every so often he would catch sight of Wonwoo and his wife Adri, but they would be gone just as quickly as he would see them.

Then he saw you.

You were standing at one of the florist stands, talking and laughing with the elderly woman running the booth with your gaze on the beautiful flowers that were being sold. Jihoon found himself rooted to the spot, watching the way your face would light up from your smile and how your laughter would float to him like a melody only he ever wanted to hear.

You must’ve felt his gaze since your laughter faded as you looked his way, but your smile still played over your pretty lips as your eyes met. Giving a quick goodbye to the vendor, you adjusted the pink knitted tote on your shoulder as you made your way toward him.

Jihoon had to be mad to think that your smile got wider and there was a shine of excitement in your eyes at the sight of him.

“Jihoon, right?” You asked once closer, and he nodded with the corner of his lips upturning when you bounced with excitement. He then responded with your own name and braced himself for the chance he had gotten it wrong (that would be so embarrassing), and you nodded with the same enthusiasm. “It’s so nice to see you!”

“It’s nice to see you as well.” The words came out a little higher than he would’ve liked, having to cough to clear his throat. Of course, his voice would crack when talking to you, but you didn’t seem to notice. Or if you did, you didn’t say anything about it.

“Have you tried Mrs. Min’s lemon bars yet?” You didn’t miss a beat with your question, taking Jihoon a bit by surprise.

It was well known that the food in the market was decent, some of the best in fact, and one of the biggest reasons many would show up every weekend. Hell, most his friends would willingly get up during the weekend just to go eat,  and he had even tried many of the different dishes over the years himself, but not everything.

Like Mrs. Min’s lemon bars.

“I have not.” When he said those words, you let out a gasp before hopping (that’s the only way he could describe it) next to him. You hooked your arms around his, with your hand resting over his plaid covered bicep, tilting your head to look up at him.

It was then he realized you were shorter with him, and it somehow endeared you to him more.

“Then you have not lived yet.” The giggle that left you sounded so sweet to him, probably sweeter than the lemon bars that you were leading him to, but he was still processing you touching him.

You didn’t need to pull at him to follow you, finding himself easily falling into step with your little skips, filling the air with chatter as you walked. Telling him stories that eventually blended in with each other then took different directions to the point he barely was able to keep up. He didn’t seem to mind though.

He liked the sound of your voice and didn’t want to stop hearing it by interrupting with questions so he wouldn’t be so lost in your chatter. He rather take not knowing then not hear you.

“Here we are!” You said with excitement, the story you were telling forgotten now that you were standing at the pastry booth. Mrs. Min’s Breads and Pastries, said the sign. You then call out to the woman running the booth; a friend of yours. “Ruby! Could I get two of your famous lemon bars? Oh! And those orange bars too!” You then turned to Jihoon, “They are just like lemon bars, but even better cause they’re made with oranges.”

“I haven’t even tried the lemon bars yet.” Jihoon pointed out, with a soft chuckle, taking in how cute you were. Waiting impatiently for the pastries to be picked out and handed to you.

“I know, but what the hell right? Why not try both?” You answer, already handing over a couple of wadded bills, paying before Jihoon had the chance to offer. Taking the container that had the treats in it, you turned toward him suddenly with your smile even wider and body buzzing with excitement.

Jihoon might have just fallen in love with you.

Instead of grasping his arm, you reached out to take his hand to lead him to a grassy patch right behind the booth. Jihoon’s eyes stayed on your interlocked hands, not registering anything you had said to him until you had let go to sit. Gazing at his hand, he could still feel the weight of yours against it, slow to curl it into a fist now that you were no longer holding it.

He wanted to take your hand again, feel your smooth palm against his again. It made him wonder if it would be the same if you hugged him. Would he still feel the weight of your arms around his neck? Would your body imprint against his after the embrace? Those thoughts were quick to lead him to wonder if he was to kiss you, would he still feel your lips against his? Would they be as soft as they looked?

“Jihoon?” Your voice filtered through his clouded thoughts, your head tilted in curiosity. “Are you going to sit? Should we find a bench instead?”

It was then he realized that he was still standing while you were now sitting and was using your bag as a table for the container and the sweet treats inside it. The very ones that you were excited for him to try and brought him to this moment.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, awkwardly sitting next to you on the grass, ignoring that it was still slightly damp from the morning dew. You didn’t seem to notice or care, so why should he? “So these are the lemon and orange bars?”

“Yes, and they are so good.” You lift the container lid to show him the lemon and orange curds resting on what looked like a pie crust type and topped with powdered sugar. The sweet smell of lemons and oranges met his nose, and he glanced up toward you. “Try the lemon first.”

He tentatively takes one of the yellow squares while you took the other, but you were too focused on watching his reaction; causing you to miss your mouth and hit your cheek instead. Jihoon couldn’t stop himself from laughing at your antics, thinking you were even cuter than he already did. Especially when you glanced at him to see if he had caught your blunder, not realizing that there was a little lemon left on your cheek.

Then he did something that neither of you expected. He reached over and swiped it away with his thumb before slipping it into his mouth, tasting the balance between the sweet and tartness. It left you sitting there stunned, mouth slightly open, eyes wide and completely speechless by the action. Heat started to burn at your cheeks, and there was a shine to your eyes.

Different from the usual one he would see, this one was a little darker as if the simple action did something more to you. One that Jihoon was hoping he wasn’t misreading, making his gaze drop to your lips. Parted slightly from his action; soft, plush, and inviting. He wanted to kiss away the surprised expression until you were giggling and smiling again.

Maybe one day he would be able to.

“You okay?” His question brought you back from your daze, with it being him to tilt his head in curiosity. Except that smile was more of a smirk now, attempting to hold onto this sudden boldness that was coursing through him.

“Uh, yeah…I just…” You break away from his gaze to look down at the lemon bar in your hands, your bottom now trapped between your teeth. You cast a glance back up to him, not expecting his focus to be on you; with a dark strand of hair falling over his brown. Just him sitting there looking at you like this made you struggle with your words. “Truth is… I...” You look like you were going to say something, or trying to get the courage to, before taking a slow deep breath. Looking at him again, you were now wearing a shy smile, “Let’s eat.”

Jihoon was a little disappointed when you changed the subject and possibly would have worried that he was overstepping had it not been for the way you were looking at him. Or how they were looking at his lips then back to his eyes. While he would be the first to admit that he not always the best at knowing if someone was interested in him, there was no mistaking that you had some interest in him.

Taking a bite of the treat, he took his time chewing it. Tasting the familiar lemon that he swiped off your cheek, now mixed with the crust and the powdered sugar. It was good, but he was more interested in your reaction, and the way your eyes lit up. Waiting for his reaction and/or opinion on it.

Swallowing, he took another bite before licking his lips of the powdered sugar and crumbs.

“Well?” You asked, and he nodded.

“It’s good.” He kept his response simple, finishing what was left in his hand. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the way your face then lit up, a happy smile stretching over your lips and back was that little bounce you had to you.

“Isn’t it? Wait until you try the orange one. It will change your life.” You hadn’t even taken a bite of yours yet, but you were already to grab the orange bar for him. This made him chuckle and shake his head.

“How about you finish the one in your hand, and then we can enjoy the orange ones together?” He suggested, feeling himself grow more comfortable with you by the second. How did he end up getting so lucky you were willing to spend your Saturday with him?

“Oh, okay…” Your words seemed to come out almost breathless, sucking in your bottom lip before releasing it and taking a bite of the bar in your hand. Jihoon couldn’t tear his gaze from your lips, now coated with powdered sugar before you tried to lick it all away.

Just that small action made his heart quicken and his breath catch. It made him think of how much sweeter this treat would taste on your lips, even better on your tongue. Shaking his head, he needed to get these thoughts out of his head, feeling borderline delusional almost.

“I seriously love these,” You told him, with it helping shake the thought of kissing you and brought his focus back to you sitting in front of him. You had taken the last bite of your lemon bar, looking at him as you did. Powdered sugar still all over your face, despite your attempts to lick it all away, his smile changing to a slight amused one. Only it made you blink in confusion, “Do I have something on my face?”

“You’re…” Jihoon let out a soft chuckle, motioning around his mouth as he said this, “You’re covered in powdered sugar.”

“Oh, shit, really?” You turned toward your bag to pull something before turning back with a playful smile now on your lips, before tapping them, “I can actually say the same thing for you.”

Jihoon’s hand flew up to his own mouth, wiping away the sugar that had collected at the corner of his lips, the blush that had subsided back with a vengeance. You giggled before reaching for his hand, cleaning the clumped up powder with a small blue handkerchief.

You didn’t let go right away, allowing him a better chance to feel how soft your hands were against his rougher ones, holding onto him longer than you probably should have but neither of you seem to care. When you finally let go, the ghost of your hand still lingered on his while you sat the handkerchief down and grabbed the remaining two bars.

“Now it is time to finally come to life.” You tease, handing over the bar, once more taking your time to move your hand away.

“I think I already did,” He said softly, not talking about the bars, and this time you wouldn’t look at him, paying attention to the orange treat in your hands. Together the two of you took a bite, and Jihoon couldn’t help but agree with you. The lemon bar was good, though he probably only liked it because you were there, but this one was actually delicious. “Wow.”

“Right?! Life changing.” You sigh happily, chewing happily at the pastry. “Do you come to these things often?”

“No, actually.” Jihoon answered honestly, already finishing the bar and you handed him the handkerchief to wipe away the sugar. “I typically just stay home, and if I need anything, I can just go by the corner shop.” He looks around the crowd of people to see if he could catch a glimpse of Wonwoo and Adri, but no luck. “My friend Wonwoo and his wife dragged me along today.”

“Oh, so here against your will I take it?” You ask, taking your time eating as you watched him with a curious gaze. He nodded. “Well, I don’t know how you feel about it, but I am happy that you were forced to come. I mean, how else will you try these amazing treats?”

“Me too,” He answered with a laugh, and the two of you slipped into a light conversation. With you asking him random questions about himself, which he answered, and you then answered his questions.

The fruit bars now long gone, but neither of you moved from your place in the grass. Not caring about the people walking by you, or the curious glances of people that knew you both. Lee Jihoon and you, sitting together, with you talking animatedly to him, laughing together, and he looked at you like you hung the sky.

“I should probably see where these two are.” Jihoon said at one point, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call Wonwoo. Honestly, he had almost completely forgotten that he had lost his friend in the crowd hours earlier, lost in talking with you. Hitting the call button on his friend’s contact, he held the phone to his ear as it rang.

Wonwoo answered after the first couple of rings.

“Hey, where you guys at?” As he listened to his friend’s response, Jihoon’s eyes stayed on you while you closed up the container that once held the bars. You were doing your best to not give away that you were listening in or hiding the look of disappointment on your face.

You were about to say your goodbyes and go your separate ways. Back to normal life, back to him just being a patron of the shop you work at, and back to you wishing you could say more. Hoping he would say more.

Fate can be a funny thing though. Since Wonwoo and Adri had left nearly an hour earlier and didn’t tell him.

“What you mean you two left?” Jihoon’s voice change caused you to look at him, watching the smile he was wearing turn to a deep frown. “I came with you guys. Why didn’t you call me, or come find me?”

“Sorry, Adri was getting a headache so I took her home so she can lay down. I was going to call you but…” Jihoon cut him off by an annoyed tsk, which he was sure was making his friend feel guilty. “Do you want me to come get you?”

“Jihoon.” You said softly, leaning toward him, stopping him from agreeing for his friend to come pick him up. He raised a brow at you, and you gave him a hopeful smile, “I can take you home or back to your car… Wonwoo doesn’t have to come all the way back to get you.”

“You sure?” He asked, proud of himself that he is keeping as calm as he was outwardly, because inside he felt like he was freaking out. He didn’t want to inconvenience you, even if you offered, but he also wasn’t exactly wanting to leave you yet.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” He was suddenly aware of how close you two actually were and that you were touching his arm. Your touch barely felt under the layers of clothes, but he could still feel the warmth coming from it.

“You know what, don’t worry about it.” Jihoon said into the phone after a minute, witnessing before his eyes as you lit up in a way that he hadn’t seen before. Hanging up with his friend, he couldn’t help but say something. “You seem excited to take me home.”

“What can I say?” Giving him a wink, you stood to brush the dirt off the back of your jeans before offering him your hand. Which he took and you helped him stand, and with your bottom lip between your lip you add. “I’m not ready to stop hanging out just yet.”

If you were able to see inside Jihoon’s chest, you would be able to see how quick his heart was beating and that his lungs were almost robbed of breath. There was no mistaken the way you were looking at him, eyes filled with adoration and how you were chewing your bottom lip, that you were interested in him. Interested in spending more time with him.

And it was not lost on either of you that you were still holding onto each other’s hands.

“Good, because I’m not either.”

It was well past one when you left the market together, with you talking animatedly as you lead him to your car. Your palm pressed against his clammy one, but you didn’t care so neither did he. Jihoon had left his car at Wonwoo’s, since he had rode with the couple that morning, and it surprised him when you told him you knew exactly where they lived.

“I know Adri through Ruby.” You told him when he went to question you, grabbing and handing over a large CD binder from behind you before buckling in. The bright blue binder heavy in his hands, “We’re taking the long way there though, so pick some tunes.”

“You still use CDs?” Jihoon asked, looking through the pages full of CDs, impressed that you still used them. So many, like him, had switched to playing music through an app on their phone or programmed into their car.

“It’s either that or the radio.” You tell him, “And I don’t feel the need to have some fancy Bluetooth set up in my car. Besides there is still something special about listening through a CD instead of through some app. Be sure to buckle up.”

Jihoon let out a laugh, doing as you told him, buckling in and choosing a CD from one of the pages. A Bruno Mars album. You pull off as the music started to play, and he turned it down so that you didn’t have to yell over it to be heard.

You weren’t lying when you said you were going to take the long way back to the couple’s home, taking as many back streets as possible. Conversations continued naturally like it had at the market, and of course you ended up rambling. Though this time you managed to keep it to three different stories that somehow intertwined, but he didn’t mind as long as he got to hear your voice and laugh more.

The afternoon sun shined bright through the car window, making you attempt the drop the visor and slip on the sunglasses that fell down; especially since the visor did nothing to help shield you from the rays. Leaving you grumbling between your responses in the conversation.

When you finally got to your destination, Jihoon didn’t make any motion to get out of the car. He stayed there so you could finish your story about when your cat got stuck in your ceiling.

“I had to call my brother, and he’s allergic to cats so it took so much convincing.” You sigh, dropping your head back against the headrest then looked his direction. Realizing that you may have taken over most the airtime in the car ride. “Sorry, I am rambling again.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind it.” He answered, waving off your concern before flashing you a grin. “Means I don’t have to as much.”

“I do it a lot when I’m nervous, but something tells me that if I can shut up long enough, you’d be a chatter box.”

“Do I make you nervous?” Jihoon asked you, watching with mild amusement as you realized what you had just said.

“Oh… uh… yeah, a little.” You stuttered out, looking down at your steering wheel before licking you lips. “I…” You let out a laugh, nervous but sweet sounding, “I…I kind of have a bit of a crush on you…”

“You do?” Turning your gaze toward him, you nodded which in turned made him laugh. “What you know…” Both of you suddenly became aware that you were now leaning toward each other. “I do too.”

A squeak left you before Jihoon finally closed the remaining distance to kiss you. It was brief, testing, but the soft pressure of your lips felt like heaven and the soft sigh that left you made him want to kiss you again.

“Wow…” Your voice was breathless, lightly brushing your fingers against you bottom lip, sitting back in your seat.

“I should get going…” Jihoon finally spoke after a moment, catching the way your nod was small and a little disappointing. He didn’t want to end this either, but if he didn’t get out of this car, he may never leave your side again. “Would you like to have dinner with me? Tomorrow night sound good?”

“I close the shop, but I can come by after if you don’t mind a late night dinner.” There was hopefulness in your eyes when you offered this but quickly blurted out. “Unless another night works better.”

“No, we can do a late dinner. My place?” You started to nod your head quickly in excitement, and it made him laugh at how cute you were being. Dropping his gaze to your lips, Jihoon had to hold himself back from diving in for another kiss. Part of him confident that this won’t be the last time he got to kiss them.

You exchange numbers, before he finally slipped out of the car after bidding you goodbye for now. His heart racing as he watched you pulled out of your parking spot, with a small wave and a smile that felt even better than the one you would give to anyone else.

This smile. It was just for Jihoon.

You were vibrating when you got back to your place, unable to contain the excitement or the cloud nine feeling that was coursing through you. The entire day felt like a dream but the gentle pressure of Jihoon’s lips lingering on yours was proof that it very much was real.

And now you were going to go on a date with him.

You barely were inside the small apartment before you were pulling out your phone to make a phone call. After a few rings, the person on the other end picked up.

“About time!” Adri’s voice filtered through the speaker. “I see that the plan worked?”

“It did! We’re having dinner tomorrow night.” You squeal into the phone, dropping back down onto your sofa and kicked your feet in excitement. “Adri, he’s so amazing… I didn’t want today to end, I didn’t want to leave him. I want to kiss him again.”

“Ugh, you are going to be even more insufferable about him now.” Her faux disgust made the two of you burst out into giggles.

Thank you for reading! I do hope you enjoyed this fic! I am not used to writing pure fluff so, but I did have fun writing this!

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Which, well, is kind of accurate, because it’s Hansol’s dad’s coat. Chan had fallen in a mud patch last night when the pair stumbled back after a night out drinking with their friends, and Hansol’s parents have always treated Chan like a second son and happily dote on him, so lending him a clean, cosy coat wasn’t even debated.

But the point is, it’s the middle of winter, Chan is fucking freezing, and Hansol has made him join him in the field to meet the new vet, who will apparently be overseeing the ewes through lambing season— not that Chan knows what that means. And Chan has no interest in this, but Hansol is persuasive in the way he stares without blinking until his opponent relents, and it freaks the fuck out of Chan, so he always relents.

“Are you sure I can’t curl up in the middle of them? They look so warm,” Chan bemoans, looking longingly at the huddle of sheep a little bit away from them, practically able to see steam rising from their fluffy bodies in the chilly air.

“Very positive that you cannot curl up amongst pregnant ewes, Chan,” Hansol confirms flatly, eyes on the near distance where a car is driving along the dirt tracks of the Choi farm towards the field they’re standing at the edge of.

“Ewe means lady sheep, right?” Chan checks, and Hansol gives him a flat look in response, before snorting a laugh, then looks away. “What?”

“Would I say they’re pregnant if they were gentlemen sheep?”

“I…I think I’m too hungover.”

“Nah, you’re always a dumbass,” Hansol retorts teasingly, then pushes off of the fence to approach one of the farm dogs who has something in his mouth that Hansol needs to chase him for the next few minutes to get out— turns out, it was a lump of mud; at least, Chan hopes it was mud.

“Hey, you’re new,” the voice behind Chan makes him turn, and instantly, his expression slides into something awed, because standing a little on the other side of the fence is the most beautiful being he’s ever laid eyes on. In response, Chan lets out something that sounds vaguely like something died painfully in his throat.

“Hey, doc!” Hansol calls out, and Chan watches entranced as this ethereal entity before him waves back with a smile that makes Chan suddenly love the farm.

“I think your new farm boy isn’t awake yet,” you muse as you approach to lean on the fence a little to Chan’s left, and he turns towards you like a flower to the sun. Or a suddenly-in-love man towards the woman of his dreams.

“No farm boy, he hates the farm, but he’s my best friend so he doesn’t have a choice,” Hansol informs with a grin.

“I love farm. Love sheep. Lady sheep. Ewes,” Chan babbles, wide eyes glued to you. You give him a look, a little concerned, but mostly amused, then slide your eyes to Hansol, and give the farmer a questioning look.

“Yeah, we don’t know what’s wrong with him either.”

“Sheep,” Chan whispers, and you give him a look, giggle— and he maybe lets out a little almost pained whimper in response—, before you effortlessly clamber over the fence to join Hansol in approaching the sheep.

Chan, of course, waddles around in a circle as you pass him so that he can keep his attention on you. He has no idea what you’re doing as you kneel beside the first pregnant lady sheep— ewe— with your bag of equipment to do…stuff, but he thinks it’s probably the most important and skilful thing ever, and nobody can ever do it better than you.

Suddenly, Chan doesn’t feel the cold, not when your smile and soft tone as you speak to the sheep warms him up from his very soul. Chan’s pretty convinced he could be standing there butt naked and feel warm under your smile. Then, he thinks that you’d probably not be smiling if a stranger was standing in front of you naked in a field of sheep in the middle of winter. He also thinks he wouldn’t be smiling as he imagines the sheep trying to nibble on something else instead of the coat protecting him from the cold, and he shudders at the thought, winces, and subconsciously puts his hands over his crotch.

“Dude, you better not be getting hard because a pretty lady smiled at you,” Hansol’s voice suddenly warns in a hiss in Chan’s ear, making him jump and look at his best friend in shock, having not noticed him approach.

“Do sheep bite genitals?” Chan whispers, horrified at the thought. Hansol gives him an incredulous look, before walking confidently back over to you in a way that Chan wishes he could, but he knows the damn coat makes him waddle like a particularly plump penguin. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a particularly plump penguin, he doesn’t want you to think of him as a penguin at all, plump or buff. He wants you to think of him as a handsome, suave young man who you would happily take home to introduce to your parents as your handsome, suave husband. Okay, boyfriend first, husband later.

Far too soon— at least in Chan’s mind—, you get up, shoulder your bag, and walk side by side with Hansol towards the gate a little further down the fence. Before he knows it, you’re getting into your Jeep— at least, Chan assumes it’s a Jeep, he doesn’t know anything about cars, nor is he paying enough attention to anything but you to notice the brand name—, sharing another laugh and quick verbal exchange with Hansol, giving Chan a polite wave, and then driving off. Chan lifts his arm so fast that he smacks himself in the face, but you’re already gone because he was too stunned by your sudden attention on him to even register it until it was over. He’s kind of glad of that because it means you didn’t see his embarrassing action.

Unfortunately, Hansol saw, and he’s leaning over with his hands on his knees as he wheezes with laughter. “Dude!” he cackles. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?” he asks, barely able to straighten up to look at his best friend as he continue to laugh so hard Chan thinks he might start choking any second.

“Nothing. I’m normal. Totally normal about everything and everyone I’ve seen today,” Chan replies before abruptly crossing the grass between them to grab Hansol’s face and lock his wide, unsettling gaze on the suddenly no longer laughing man. “How do I become a vet assistant? Specifically hers?”

Hansol pulls a face, then laughs again and nudges Chan away. “You’re hopeless, man.”

“I’d be a good vet’s assistant to her! I’d do anything she asks!”

“Pretty sure that’s called being a simp.”

“Well…if it works.”

“I can’t believe you’re obsessed with someone you didn’t say a coherent sentence to,” Hansol deadpans as he heads out of the field, and Chan scrambles to follow— making sure to shut the gate securely behind them and the dogs, he’s not entirely useless with farm stuff, you know.

“Shit, you’re right,” Chan mutters. Hansol looks at him as if he expects Chan to chill out and be normal about you, at least he does until the shorter man opens his mouth again. “Do you think if I hide for a couple months and you pretend I don’t exist and she imagined me today, that she’ll forget about me and I can come back and start fresh?”

“Dude, no!” He even shoves his friend into a bush for added effect; it works, Chan gets the point.

“Okay, no gaslighting, you’re right,” Chan concedes as he pulls himself out of the bush as if nothing happened. “I could never keep away from my future wife from that long anyway, and I definitely don’t want her to forget about me.”

“You don’t even know her name.”

That gives Chan pause, quite literally. He stops on the grass and Hansol continues on obliviously towards the house. Or more likely, Hansol knows that his best friend is no longer actively following him and is enjoying the moment of calm while he has it.

It’s a few minutes before Chan has caught up with Hansol where he’s waiting on the back porch, dogs all shuffling around his feet and the door as they wait to be let back inside. But Hansol knows his mother hates the winter air and feels it so much easier than most people, so he doesn’t want the door to open more than necessary so that there’s less cold being let in to attack his mother.

“What’s her name?” Chan asks as soon as he’s clambered up the few wooden steps. Hansol just rolls his eyes, and now finally opens the door to let the dogs dart in first, then follows with Chan at the back. Automatically, once the door is shut, Chan nudges the draft excluder back into place along the bottom of it, also aware of Hansol’s mother’s weakness for the chill, and not wanting to make his pseudo-mother face it without reason.  

The pair are removing their shoes when the woman herself shuffles into the entrance hall. “How’re the ewes?” she checks. Hansol just gives a thumbs up, but that’s all she needs anyway. “Oh, Channie, what happened to you?” She frowns as she frets over the leaves and tiny twigs in his hair and dotted over the long coat.

“Sol pushed me into a bush,” Chan answers, then grins smugly when Hansol’s mother turns to scold her son, who glares harmlessly at his best friend before toddling off to the kitchen, drawn in by the scent of fresh, spicy food sure to warm him up. “Hey, you know the new vet?” Chan checks as the woman helps him out of the coat, picking off the bush debris as she goes.

“Mm, she’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“The loveliest,” Chan enthuses, head bobbing with his thorough agreement, and the woman smiles at him in an amused, knowing way that Chan doesn’t even notice. “I didn’t catch her name.”

“Oh, no?” She grins, hanging up the coat before turning and following her son’s path into the kitchen. Chan follows her little a lost little duckling. “You didn’t catch the good doctor’s name, love?”

“No,” Chan complains, dropping into his usual space at the breakfast table with a pout. “Will you tell it to me? Sol’s being a butthead.”

“You’re 25 years old and you just said butthead,” Hansol’s father comments from his own place. “Call him an asshole, Chan, go on.” Which earns the man a light slap to the back of his head from his wife, but he’s grinning, and Hansol is grinning, and Chan can’t help but join in.

“Don’t encourage bad habits, mister!” the woman exclaims.

“Ah, but you used to love my bad habits, my beautiful wife,” he coos, hooking one arm around her waist as she passes, to pull her in while giving her a sleazy look.

“Seriously, dad?” Hansol complains. “I’m trying to eat, don’t bring up your youth together, it’s gross.”

“Excuse you! We were hot shit in our youth, even hotter together!”

“Disgusting,” Hansol comments, not even pretending that he’s not grinning amusedly, before he puts a spoonful of warming, spicy soup into his mouth, makes a pleased sound, then tuckers in, closing out the rest of the world around him.

Having known Hansol for his entire life, the three know he will be a useless conversationalist until he’s finished his bowlful— and probably a second, maybe even third— and naturally turn away from him to continue talking without him.

“I’ve seen photos of you both when you were young,” Chan comments, nodding along. “I think you were both hot shit for sure.”

“Thank you, Chan,” Hansol’s father replies, and reaches over to approvingly pat Chan’s arm. “Knew we kept you around for a reason.”

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” Chan grins, then abruptly turns serious. “But seeing as you both love me so much and consider me your baby boy—”

“We do?”

“Yes, dad,” Chan confirms, and the couple just smile, amused and fond of their pseudo-son and his weird, shameless personality.

“Okay, son, what of it?”

“You’ll tell me the name of the new vet, right?”

The couple share a look before Hansol’s dad nods and tells Chan your full name. Immediately, Chan lets out a dreamy sigh and props his head on his palm, elbow already braced on the table. He thinks it’s the most perfect name to have ever existed, and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life saying it.

It’s a week before Chan sees you again, purely because every time he’s tried to oh so casually enter the vets and cross paths with you, he quickly realises that you’re out at another farm being competent and beautiful where he can’t admire you; a great shame, really.

Still, he’s persistent and has far too much time on his hands outside of his own working hours, so he keeps trying until he peers in through the glass wall at the front of the building, and spots you standing on the other side of the reception desk, looking at a file.

Without hesitation, Chan quickly scuttles to the door and enters the building, doing his best to be cool and confident. And it works, he genuinely looks very suave and put together, at least until you lift your head upon hearing someone approach, and he almost trips on his own foot the moment your eyes meet his.

He’s too busy flailing his arms out to catch himself on the desk and straighten up to notice the way you smile in amusement and something that looks an awful lot like you think he’s cute in his foolishness.

“Good evening, how can I help you?” you greet, leaning onto the high desk on your elbows only a few feet from Chan.

He squeaks when he realises how close you are, and jumps back, hands rapidly straightening out his coat— his own this time, and actually suited to his body, not drowning him. “Hi–hi.”

“Hi.” You grin.

“I uhm, I’m Chan!”

“Mm, I know; we met at the Choi farm last week. Hansol introduced us, but you were mumbling about lady sheep.”

“Ewes! Lady sheep are called ewes! I know animal stuff!” he insists, sounding like a child trying to convince an adult that they have knowledge they don’t really have.

“They are, well done, Chan,” you approve, and Chan positively beams, straightening up proudly. “Did you come in to introduce yourself?”

“No, no, I would like to volunteer.”

“Here?” you check, leaning up to stand straight, his eyes following you as if he can’t bear to miss a single moment. It’s all very obvious, and honestly, you think it’s adorable.

“Yes, here. With you.”

“With me? I specialise in farm animals, so I’m not here a lot,” you inform.

“I love farms.”

“Right.” You snigger and move over to the filing cabinet to grab a form, then return to hand it to him. “Here, fill this out.”

Chan nods and moves forward to take a pen from the pot a little to his left, and diligently fill out the volunteer registration form, while you return to looking at your files. Or, at least, you try to look at your files, but you’re honestly very intrigued by the man; and yes, he’s very attractive and you’re not blind to that, or his clear interest in you.

Admittedly, you wouldn’t be against going on a date with Chan to get to know him, there’s something so endearing about him— and once again, he’s very visibly pleasing, so that’s always a happy bonus. However, he flusters so easily that you think it’d be so entertaining to watch him flounder around you for a while until he gains the courage to ask you on a date himself.

Plus, you could do with a helper, and you know he’s only pretending to care about animals to be near you, so you think it’s only fair you take advantage of that and put him to good use while you can.

“There, all done,” he announces a few minutes later, lifting his head and shyly offering you the completed form, which you immediately look over just to make sure that he’s suitable for the role, at least on paper. He doesn’t seem to have any medical issues that could cause a problem, and he’s stated he has a lot of hours to put towards volunteering, so he definitely seems to be a good fit.

“What are you willing to do exactly? There are a lot of misconceptions that people come in with when they want to volunteer; they think they’ll essentially get to just play with cute puppies and kittens that come in for treatment, and they fail to consider all the shit they’ll have to handle. Often, literal shit. Especially if you’re with me and the farm animals; I don’t think I need to tell you that you will step in shit on a farm, even if you try to avoid it.”

“I know. I grew up with Hansol; his parents are my second parents, so I was sort of raised on the farm too,” he assures, nodding. Which is the truth, technically. Chan did spend a lot of time at the Choi farm growing up, and still does, but mostly in the house or orchard around back, not with the animals so much. And he certainly doesn’t know how to look after them in any way, but he doesn’t think you’d be reckless enough to leave him to look after animals, so he’s not worried about that.

“Have you tended to the animals there?”

“No,” he admits a little sheepishly. “But I’m willing to learn and do whatever you want me to.”

“Whatever I want you too, huh?” you repeat, lips turning up a little.

Chan blinks at you, lips parted slightly due to the sudden, seductive expression that makes him feel a little like he’s been dipped in a pool of warm, melted wax. Fuck, he hopes you’re into wax play because he suddenly is really into it, even if he’s never participated or been interested before. He thinks he’d probably try everything at least once if you asked.

It’s only a second that the smirk lives on your lips before it melts away as if it was never there, and Chan briefly wonders if he imagined it and the insinuation, before he gathers his brain back up and nods.

“Good to know. When can you start?”

“Now. Right now. I have nothing to do.”

“Nobody waiting for you at home?” you wonder, moving to grab your coat from where you earlier put it on the back of a chair, knowing you’d need it again soon.

“I’m single!” he blurts. “Very, very single.” You just giggle amusedly and tuck the files and his form into the cabinet before locking it up, grabbing your bag, and circling the desk to hold it out to him. Chan takes it without question, big, round eyes locked on you from only a few feet away.

“Come on, I’ve got a patient to visit,” you inform and head out of the building.

Chan lets out an excited gasp as he realises that you’ve agreed to spend time with him— he pointedly doesn’t focus on the fact that it’s for work, not personal reasons— and scrambles after you with a grin, determined to be the best assistant ever so that you’ll fall hopelessly in love with him and let him remain by your side until the world stops spinning.

As it turns out, Chan is a very competent helper, as long as you don’t watch him for too long because then he gets flustered and forgets how to function like a normal human being. Other than his mishaps, he’s actually pretty proud of himself for doing such a good job. Sometimes, he’s even so focused on the work that he forgets that he stepped into the vets that day with the sole purpose of being near you.

Though, even with his original plan often being forgotten, it still works in his favour, and the two of you spend so much time together that friendship soon blooms.

When Chan’s not flustering or just staring at you dumbly as if he can’t believe you’re real, he’s actually very naturally charming and friendly, and very skilled at making you laugh. The first time he made you properly laugh, he mentally declared your laughter to be one of the great wonders of the world, and that he’ll do what he can to earn it at every chance. Which is something he achieves almost effortlessly. He thinks that when the two of you aren’t focused on work, you’re both laughing away together and chatting happily as if you’ve known one another for years, not just a month.

It gets to the point that, although he is still utterly enamoured with you and would love to hold your hand and kiss your pretty face, he is more than happy to just spend time with you, making you laugh, and seeing you smile as you tend to patients with nothing but love and care in your touch and eyes.

Even when the two of you start to hang out outside of working hours, it’s nothing but platonic, nothing he wouldn’t do with Hansol because Chan truly doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or risk losing your friendship. He’d rather be at your side like this than not at all, and he has no intention of even trying to change anything, despite what his friends say.

“So, how’s the woman of your dreams doing?” Seungkwan asks, fiddling with Hansol’s hair where it pokes out from his beanie, and Hansol just lets him, long ago used to Seungkwan’s fussing.

“Dreamy,” Chan replies, sighing happily as he slumps forward over the table at their usual bar, leaning his chin on one palm as his other hand mindlessly traces patterns into the condensation on his glass of coke. Usually, he’d be drinking some kind of alcoholic beverage, but he knows that you’ve gone out with some friends tonight, and he told you that you can call him if you need a ride, no matter how late, so he’s refraining from drinking tonight all for you.

“Right,” Seungkwan replies with a snigger, then turns, done fussing with Hansol, yet doesn’t move away and Chan isn’t so caught up in his own pining to not notice that the pair are even closer than normal. Which says something, because Chan thinks the two are almost attached at the hip when the three of them hang out.

“What’s going on?” Chan asks as he straightens up, giving the pair a suspicious look. Hansol, for his part, doesn’t really react, just continues looking over at Chan as he sips at his beer.

Seungkwan, however, has never had a good poker face, and gives Chan a too innocent smile as his ears redden. “I don’t know what you mean, Channie.”

“You two–” Chan starts to point out their position— and the fact he’s pretty damn sure Hansol’s hand is on Seungkwan’s thigh under the table— but he hears a familiar, heart fluttering, angelic sound, and he sits upright, head swivelling to search the bar for the one person he would happily ditch his best friends for.

“Oh, you’ve turned into a meerkat,” Seungkwan muses, relaxing in his place and giving Hansol a relieved look while Chan is distracted. Hansol just smiles at him, then they both focus on their best friend, who is practically climbing up onto his chair on his knees to get a higher vantage point. “Okay, too far,” Seungkwan declares when Chan’s leg lifts as if he’s going to plant a knee on the table to climb up. Or piss like a dog with his leg cocked, though Seungkwan is pretty sure that Chan needs to be much drunker to try that…again. That was a dark day for Chan’s new trainers.

“Noo, let me find her,” Chan whines, batting at Seungkwan’s hands, head still trying to peer around the fairly busy room.

“How about you go get us a fresh round, and you can scope the place like that?” Hansol suggests after draining the last dregs of his beer, before pushing the empty glass across the table.

“Good idea!” Chan quickly snatches the empty glass and gets up, whining at Seungkwan wordlessly as the man tries to down the last of his own beer without spilling it. “Finally!” Chan exclaims exasperatedly as he takes the freshly empty glass and darts off, while Seungkwan’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, and Hansol rubs his back, soothing and amused at the same time.

As Chan crosses the room to get to the bar on the opposite side as the tables, skirting around the dance floor as he goes, he makes sure to keep his eyes open for you— and only walks into three people, which he thinks is a very low number for how busy it is mixed with not paying attention. Yet, no matter how hard he looks, he can’t find you, or hear your familiar laugh again, so he slumps against the bar and waits to be served.

He’s only there a minute and the bartender is working on refilling the glasses when someone approaches and leans on their elbows on the bar to his right. Naturally, Chan looks over and immediately lights up upon spotting you already grinning at him.

“I knew I heard your laugh!” he declares, and although it would probably be creepy from anyone else, you just find it cute from Chan and let out one of those laughs he loves so much. “Yeah, like that.” He sighs dreamily and leans one elbow on the bar so that he can fully face you.

“What happened to keeping yourself available for me tonight?” you muse.

“I’m always available for you,” he says, looking so serious and almost offended that you’d suggest otherwise. The audacity to think that he wouldn’t do literally anything to spend more time with you. It’s crazy talk.

“Oh yeah?” you question, and he nods, then looks to his left at the bar top when you motion to it. He spots the beers and understands.

“Those aren’t mine. They’re for my friends. You remember Hansol, right?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “We were at his farm yesterday.”

“Well, yeah, him and our other best friend, Seungkwan. I think they’re dating or something now,” he announces, leaning in closer conspiratorially. You mirror his action with a grin, more than happy to go along with it. “They’ve always sat close, but tonight, they’re even closer, and I’m pretty sure Sol’s touching up Kwan under the table.”

“That doesn’t sound very public friendly,” you muse.

“Oh! Not in that way; I just meant has his hand on Kwan’s thigh. But now you’ve said that… I really hope it’s not in that way.” Chan isn’t sure what exactly his expression does, but it makes you laugh, so he doesn’t care, and just grins at you. “So, where are your friends?” he wonders, peering around curiously yet finds nobody looking in your direction as if they’re waiting for you to return.

“They were touching each other up under the table, so I ditched them,” you joke, and Chan laughs.

“Well, you can join us, if you want?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Will there be under the table touching?” You smirk, and Chan’s mind blanks as he stares at you dumbly, making you giggle. “Sure, I’d love to join you, if your friends won’t mind, that is.”

“They won’t. Kwan wants to meet you, and Sol already likes you.”

“Ah, that’s cool, I like him.”

Chan suddenly pouts at you, but you don’t notice, you’re too busy leaning forward onto the bar to flag down the bartender and order yourself a drink. Even when he hands his card to the bartender— without looking— Chan is still pouting at you. You look at him as you spot his bank card appear, and raise a questioning eyebrow at him, both for the paying for your drink, and the expression.

“What?” you ask, deciding to just accept the drink and face the pouting instead. You can always buy him a drink later anyway.

“You like me better, right?” he questions without losing his pout. You huff a soft laugh. “No?”

“Yes, idiot,” you assure, and Chan breams, despite you just calling him an idiot. “And if you must know, I think you’re very likely my favourite person in his town,” you declare, tone a little quieter, lower, as if it’s just the two of you, before you pick up your drink and turn away. Though Chan doesn’t follow, so you stop after a few steps and look back at his stunned, gawping figure. “Well, come on then, introduce me to the man Hansol’s touching up under the table.”

“Right!” Chan darts forward, intending to take you to the table as requested, yet you put a gentle hand on his chest to stop him, giggling amusedly. “Huh?”

“Didn’t you forget something?” you remind him and motion behind him at the bar, so Chan looks over and notices the two glasses of beer sitting there with his bank card left on the surface beside them.

“Oh, shit.” He rushes over to pocket his card, then grabs the drinks and turns to face you with an embarrassed little grin. “This way.”

At the table, Seungkwan lights up when Chan introduces you and says you’re joining them, and you grin back before joining them and easily get into conversation with Seungkwan as if you already know each other. As if you’ve always been around. As if you’re supposed to be here with them, right by Chan’s side.

Since the day in the bar where you spent hours with Chan, Hansol, and Seungkwan, Seungkwan has bugged Chan to ask you out at every available opportunity.

Because he’s a meddling little shit, Seungkwan has arranged many hang outs for the four of you. Which, to Chan, are increasingly feeling like double dates, despite the fact that Hansol and Seungkwan are still evasive about whatever is going on between them, and you never bat an eyelid about the growing romantic vibes to the hang outs.

You don’t even question it or back off when you arrive to Seungkwan’s apartment set up with slow, romantic music and candles. Or when Seungkwan insists you and Chan slow dance together after dinner. Okay, maybe that’s Chan’s fault. After he offhandedly mentions how he hasn’t danced with someone in a while, you say the same, and then Seungkwan goads the two of you on until you relent, pull Chan to his feet, and put his hand on your waist— Chan’s pretty sure he astrally projects for a second when that happens— in the middle of Seungkwan’s kitchen while the man himself watches on with a shit-eating grin.

Still, Chan doesn’t give in and is happy to continue as you are. Admittedly, he could be even happier if he got the chance to romance you, but he’s more than content being such good friends with you.

He really doesn’t expect you to feel otherwise, though.

It comes to a head completely out of the blue one morning, when Chan is using his day off to help you organise your so-rarely-used office at the vets. The fact it’s so rarely used is why it’s such a mess. Well, mess in the way there’s no obvious system and things are just placed everywhere, yet you always manage to find what you need quickly enough that you hadn’t wanted to block off any of your appointment times to tackle the task earlier. But it’s spring, and the local ewes have all started to pop out lambs left, right, and centre, so you haven’t been accepting appointments other than emergencies, just in case you get the call about a sheep in labour.

Chan isn’t aware of it, he’s too busy frowning in concentration down at the pile of books on the floor in front of him where he’s sitting as he tries to decide which ones you should display on your shelves and which should go in the closed cupboard, but you’ve been staring at him contemplatively for a good few minutes already.

When you speak, Chan jolts in surprise, first at the sudden noise, but then at the words that come out of your mouth. “Okay, are you going to ask me on a date, or am I going to have to do it?” You wait for a response for only a few seconds before taking his dumb expression and wide eyes as answer. “Alright, tonight at 6:30, pick me up and we’ll go to that Italian place Seungkwan keeps telling us to try. Okay?” It takes a few moments, but Chan manages to shut his mouth and nod in confirmation, slowly at first still in disbelief, but then the enthusiasm catches up and his head bobbles cutely, making you smile. “Good. Dress pretty for me, yeah?”

“Y–yeah,” he almost wheezes out, voice so pinched and quiet. But you just giggle and return to your work, so Chan takes a few moments to admire your smile and wait for his thundering heart to calm before he turns back to those books and then sighs forlornly. He wishes it was 6:30 already. Only eight hours left to go. Fuck.

Chan would like to say that he’s been cool and calm for the past hours. He’d like to say that he easily picked his outfit for the date with minimal deliberation, that he didn’t have three almost breakdowns, and that Seungkwan didn’t almost shake Chan’s brain out of his ears when he did nothing but stand in his shower for half an hour without even turning the water on— yes, Seungkwan did barge in on him, and no, Seungkwan doesn’t understand what privacy is.

Truthfully, Chan thinks he’s never been so nervous for anything in his life. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked at himself in the mirror and picked out every little thing someone could find as a fault, as a reason to leave him in the middle of a restaurant with only breadsticks and ice water to soothe his broken heart.

Realistically, Chan knows you’d never be so cruel, but he’s not Realistic Chan anymore, he’s Scared-That-The-Woman-Of-His-Dreams-Will-Realise-He’s-Not-Good-Enough-For-Her Chan. And Chan hates being Scared-That-The-Woman-Of-His-Dreams-Will-Realise-He’s-Not-Good-Enough-For-Her Chan, it’s too much of a mouthful.

So, Chan does what Chan does best, and deludes himself into thinking he’s a normal, functioning young man entirely capable of going on this date and not acting like a love-sick freak.

Well, he deludes himself until the moment you step out of your house and steal his breath away. You’re wearing a pretty dress that stops just above your knees— as if that’s not reason enough for Chan to lose his mind like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time—, with a neckline that hints at cleavage without dipping low enough that Chan will be completely distracted all night having a staring contest with your boobs. You’ve even done your hair and put on some makeup that makes you look like a literal goddess. Chan isn’t going to be normal about this at all.

“Oh my god, you’re an angel,” he blurts as he scrambles forward to meet you a few metres from his car. His freshly washed and waxed car that he had previously been leaning against like the stud of a male lead in a cheesy rom com while feeling very much like one, and like he might have the upper hand and make you swoon for once. He was evidently, very fucking wrong about that.

“Oh,” you respond, surprised by how intense and genuine his reaction is. You had expected him to react pretty strongly, but this is so honest that it makes your heart flutter— more than he already makes it anyway, you just haven’t let him know that. You look down at your feet as you giggle shyly, and Chan positively melts. “Thank you. You look very handsome,” you compliment as you look at the man donned in a black shirt with maybe one button undone too low on his chest to not be on purpose— though you really aren’t opposed to the teasing glimpse of strong chest—, neat, dark trousers, and a nice jacket perfect for the weather, which he only brings out for special occasions. A date with you is the most special occasion as far as Chan is concerned. Honestly, you’d have to agree.

“Oh, really?” Chan asks, genuinely surprised, having not expected the compliment, and quickly looks at himself. “Seungkwan picked it; I…was too nervous to be useful.”

“Chan,” you start to say, and move forward to gently tilt his head back up so that he’ll see the truth in your eyes. “I always think you’re handsome.”

“Oh,” he exhales, eyes big and round, and cheeks warming softly.

“Come on, let’s go, I’m starving,” you encourage as you let go of him and step around his almost frozen figure to approach his car.

Before you can even reach out for the passenger door, Chan is suddenly there, scrambling to open it for you, then offer his hand to help you into your seat like a true gentleman. The best part is that you know he isn’t putting it on to impress you, Chan is just like that. It makes your heart flutter, and you giggle softly as you swing your legs into the footwell once seated to allow him to shut the door.

Chan all but falls into his seat moments later in his rush to join you. He gives you an adorably embarrassed smile as you laugh, endeared by his clumsy actions, and then he settles himself and pulls his door shut. “Okay, let’s go!” he cheers once he’s plugged his seatbelt in— and double checked yours is also securely in place—, then starts the drive to the restaurant.

Despite how nervous he was— and remains—, Chan has to admit that the date goes well. Like, really well.

Although it could be awkward, especially with his stammering, and gawping, and blurting out compliments at the most random times, it isn’t. It takes him a little while, but he realises that your smile doesn’t change even when he does those embarrassing things, not in a bad way at least. Every time he does something stupid or obviously smitten, your smile softens and your gaze on him turns so gentle that Chan can’t mistake it for anything but the truth; you’re fond of him, and find him endearing, not a giant fool. Okay, maybe you do also think that, but Chan suddenly realises that it’s pretty damn likely that you like that about him.

After a truly delicious dinner that you insist on paying for as the one who asked Chan on the date— which has Chan trying to not to giggle dopily into his hands like a swooning maiden at the reminder, and your no-nonsense, doting words and actions—, the two of you head outside to his car, only to divert before even reaching it as you motion to the nearby park. Chan’s more than happy to toddle after you, and all but squeaks when you gently grab his hand at the road to tug him across quickly so that you don’t have to wait until after the incoming stream of cars to cross.

Unfortunately, you let go of him once you’re both safely across the road with both feet on the path. Chan thinks he does a very convincing job of pretending to not pout about no longer having your hand in his. He doesn’t. It’s incredibly obvious, and you’re further endeared, though decide to wait and let him reach out to reconnect your hands.

But as it so happens, Chan is a coward and doesn’t make any sort of move to hold your hand, leaving it up to you. After almost twenty minutes of waiting as the two of you leisurely stroll through the mostly empty park, talking and giggling away like you’ve been doing all evening, you realise that you’ll be waiting for the rest of your life for Chan to make a move, so you reach out and take his hand into yours.

“Oh,” Chan says, dumbly looking down at your hands, making you grin to yourself, which only grows when you adjust your hold to slip your fingers between his own to secure the affection and Chan inhales so suddenly that he almost chokes on air. “Hands,” he wheezes out.

“Mm, do you mind?”

“No! Always hands!” he insists, looking up at you with wide, imploring eyes, and emphatically nods.

“Okay, always hands,” you agree with a giggle and tug him that bit closer so that you can all but hug his arm to you, right hand still connected with his, and your left hand holding his upper arm. Of course, you take a chance to cop a feel of his strong bicep, and, of course, Chan doesn’t miss the chance to flex the muscle, making you giggle. He smiles, pleased of himself— and proud of his body for gaining your interest—, and finally curls his fingers to hold your hand in return as the two of you let the conversation naturally ebb out for a calm, content quiet to replace it.

Although it’s only spring and the moon is high in the sky, it’s not as cold as it could be outside, so when you spot a bench just a little off the path, you lead Chan over to it so that you can sit by his side and lean into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, and happy to spend the rest of the night by his side like this if he’ll let you. You’re pretty confident he has no arguments about it. Especially as he holds your hand that bit tighter as he rests it on his thigh, thumb rubbing over your skin absently, and tilts his head against yours with a content sigh.

“Thank you,” Chan’s gentle tone breaks the quiet a little while after sitting down, making you hum questioningly in response. “I know I act like an idiot around you, but it’s just because I like you so much that I just…get stupid. Well, stupider than normal, if you ask everyone else.”

“It’s cute.”

“I’m glad you think so. And that you asked me out. I didn’t think you were interested in me, would ever be interested in me; you’re just so…” he lets out a dreamy sigh that makes you turn your face to hide your dopey grin in his shoulder.

When you turn your head back around after a few seconds to gather yourself and stop smiling so stupidly cheesy, Chan is quiet again, and happily softly smiling ahead at nothing in particular, just letting his feelings show unabashedly on his features. You can’t help but straighten up so that you can lean in and kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for liking me so much,” you say, gently grateful. “I’m lucky to have your interest, and I don’t plan to let you move on to anyone else.”

“I won’t,” he promises, so seriously as he nods to back up his words, making you smile a little wider, so endeared. “You’re everything I never knew I wanted, and I know I’ll never find anyone better than you.”

“Good.” Your grin is cheeky, and Chan can’t help but chuckle softly, fond.

For a few long moments, the two of you do nothing but hold adoring eye contact, little smiles on your face, and neither shying away from this, from what this could turn into if you give it the chance. Chan wants to, with everything in him; he’s had a taste of what it’s like to be blessed with your entire romantic attention, and he wants to keep that privilege for the rest of his life. He’d also really like to get a taste of you, and his eyes drop down to your lips as that thought settles in his mind.

A soft, surprised inhale slips from your lips when you notice that Chan is leaning in. The man who didn’t have the balls to even hold your hand despite very obviously wanting to, is tilting towards you, aiming to kiss you. You want him to; fuck do you want him to. You’re tempted to lean in just so it’ll happen quicker, but you also want Chan to make a real move entirely on his own so that it’s not always you doing it, and he realises that he can do it without you guiding him.

And then, just as he’s mere inches away, your phone starts to ring, and you both freeze. If it was your personal phone, you wouldn’t even hear it right now, you put it on do not disturb before leaving your house for the date. But you can hear it and that can only mean one thing; it’s your work phone, and it’s important.

“Shit,” you whisper before turning to your bag to find out your work phone while Chan leans back into his own space, a little upset about being interrupted, but mostly understanding and also a little worried it’s a serious animal emergency. “It’s Hansol,” you inform after looking at the caller ID, then swipe to answer while lifting the device to your ear. “Hey, what’s going on?” you ask, already getting up, knowing that regardless of the reason Hansol is calling, you need to get to his family farm sooner rather than later; he’s far too experienced and level-headed to call you for anything minor.

“Sheila’s gone into labour,” he announces.

“Alright, I’ll be there soon, you know what to do until then.”

“Got it, see you soon, doc.”

You place your phone back away and turn, expecting Chan to still be sitting on the bench, but he’s already standing close by with his car keys in his hand.

“Let’s go,” he says, taking your hand into his free one to quickly lead you back through the park, both of you rushing to get to his car sooner.

Without you saying a word, Chan drives straight to the vets, and though you don’t tell him to, he follows you inside to help you grab everything you need— the man now well versed in what exactly you need to help bring a lamb or two into the world—, then leads you back to his car.

“You missed the turning,” you comment a few minutes later, pointing dumbly to the road that leads towards your house.

“No I didn’t.” He briefly gives you a look as if you’re stupid, before focusing on the road out of town. “Sol’s place is this way.”

“Oh…I thought you were taking me home and then going home yourself,” you admit.

“I’m your assistant, aren’t I?” He grins cheekily. You let out a soft little laugh, so relieved and beyond glad to have this lovely man by your side and reach out to hold his hand into your own. He smiles a little brighter without looking away from the road.

After hours of waiting, when the sun has chased the moon away and started to rise up and smile down on the two new lives blessing the Choi farm, your job is done.

“I’ll never get over it,” Chan comments as the two of you head back towards his car, both of your outfits completely ruined from the birthing fluids, dust, and hay of the barn, and your hair in a messy, barely still together bun Chan had tied it into hours ago while you pulled on your long gloves.

“Hm?” you wonder, glancing at him quickly, then looking at his car as he unlocks it, allowing you to open the boot so that he can put your bags inside— which he insisted on carrying with the excuse that you carried the weight of bringing two new lambs into the world, so it’s his turn to carry; luckily, he’s cute enough to get away with such bullshit.

“You just helped that mama bring her babies into this world, and you let me assist you. No matter how many times I help you do this, I’ll never get over how incredible it is.”

“It’s a good feeling, huh?” you muse.

“Beyond good. I might just quit my job to do this full time,” he declares, making you laugh. “What? I’m serious!”

“Channie, lambing season is spring, you’d be out of a job most of the year if you quit just for this,” you reason.

“I meant work with you in general, really. And there are other animals to help through labour, too! I wanna help bring a baby cow into the world.”

“Alright, next time I get that call, I’ll let you know.” Chan beams at you, looking so genuinely happy at the offer that you can’t help but be further endeared by the man.

“I should probably call off work today,” he muses after checking the time on his watch— that has been tucked safely in his jacket pocket out of the way for the past few hours to not risk ruining it, and the jacket hung up on a post in the barn far from the splash zone at your insistence; he had practically sprinted to do as you told him to when you said you really liked how it looked on him and hope to see him wear it again. “I’m due at work in like two hours.”

“Mm, yeah, call off,” you agree a little distractedly as you watch him meander around the car after shutting the boot, his eyes on his phone as he types a message to his boss one handed, and the other blindly reaching for the passenger side door long before he’s close enough to grasp the handle.

“You’ll at least take the morning off, right?” he checks as he slides his phone into his pocket and looks at you.

“Yeah, I won’t go in until the afternoon. Unless there’s an emergency, of course,” you answer, soothing him of his worries.

“And you’ll call me if you need me, right? For anything.”

“Anything?” you tease, and he nods so seriously that you can’t help but chuckle as the euphemism goes right over his adorable head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” He motions to the seat, then offers his hand to you like he’s been doing all night to help you in and out of the car— like he’s always wanted to but felt it would be overstepping as a friend to do so, but he’s your…date-man now; he has no idea what he is to you at this point, but whatever it is, he wears the label with pride.

You take his hand and start to move towards the seat, only to back up and turn to face him so suddenly that he jerks back in shock, only to lean back in, eyes round in curious wonder. “So, I know this isn’t the most attractive look or anything.” You motion to yourself vaguely; Chan’s gaze follows to take you in head to toe, and when his gaze returns to you, he’s got a little smile on his face that makes you blush softly. “But I don’t want to wait until an undetermined later point.” Unsurprisingly, Chan’s expression turns puzzled. “I would very much like it if you did the thing you were going to do before Hansol called.”

Somehow, Chan just look even more confused, features scrunching cutely, and head tilting to the side— maybe it’s the animal loving vet you in you that absolutely loves it when he gains this dumb, puppy-dog look. After rolling your eyes at his reaction, figuring you’ll have to spell it out and you’d rather just get to it, you lean in to press a kiss to Chan’s lips. It’s only a quick thing, nothing but a sweet barely-longer-than-a-peck kiss, before you pull back. Chan’s making some strange, strangled, shocked noise as he stares at you with wide eyes, making you snicker out a laugh.

To your genuine surprise, Chan suddenly snaps out of his daze and lifts both hands to cup your face, secure yet still gentle, so that he can connect his lips with yours in a kiss so perfect that you never want it to end. You all but melt against him, hands lifting to hold onto his wrists so that he’ll not let you go before you’re ready; he just kisses you more thoroughly. For someone that’s been so awkward and cowardly about making a move until now, the man can kiss. Holy fuck can the man kiss.

Only when both of your chests are heaving to try and suck in some oxygen do you naturally pull apart to dopily stare at one another under the rising sun with lamb birth dried on your nicest clothes. It’s probably pretty gross for a first kiss— ignoring your peck—, but you still think it’s perfect, and you’d never change it for the world.

“For the record,” Chan starts after a minute; once you’re both breathing almost normally again and his thumbs are consistently brushing soothing arcs over your cheekbones as his palms refuse to leave your skin. Not that you’ve tried to make him stop and would happily let him touch you so tenderly until the sun sets again. “You’re always attractive to me.”

You smile and tilt your chin up to press a short kiss to his lips. “You say that now but wait until you see me first thing in the morning, hungover, with only two hours sleep.”

Chan grins and cutely taps his nose against yours. “Just sounds to me like you’re already planning to share the bed with me,” he points out cheekily, making you giggle. “I already look forward to it.”

“Yeah,” you agree softly. “Me too.”

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*Twenty-four years ago*

“Yoon Jeonghan!” His mother’s voice boomed through the small home, your full name quickly following, but it was fruitless. The two of you were already running out the door, giggling, both of you with handfuls of the cookies that his mother had spent hours making.

“This way,” you tell him, and the seven-year-old boy nodded, following you without any further questions. Just like you did him.

Pushing aside a broken board in a fence, you and him slipped through into an abandoned looking backyard. On the other end of the yard, there was an old wooden shed and exactly where you were leading him. The once fresh and crisp wood now weathered from age and the elements; the door barely held onto its hinges, and a window that had several cracks in it.

Your hidden oasis. Yours and Jeonghan's little hide out.

Inside the old building, cobwebs covered corners of the walls. There was an old lawnmower that was rusted and abandoned to time and a built-in table to one side that was already filled with other snacks and drinks you both swiped from each other’s home. There were also two small sleeping bags laid out to be able to sit on the ground without getting your bottoms dirty.

“I can’t believe she fell for that,” Jeonghan giggled, setting his share of the cookies onto a broken plastic plate, one your grandmother threw away and you dug out of the trash to use in your ‘hide out’.

“I told you, she would. She’s like my grandma when she is baking.” You tell him with ease. Your seven-year-old confidence was admirable, your share joining his on the plate, except for one that you were going to eat. Taking a bite of the soft warm cookie, you continued to talk with your mouth full, “It was all a matter of striking at the right moment. You know this, Hanni.”

“She is going to be so mad at me when I get home,” He chuckled, his own mouth now full of cookies. You roll your eyes, reaching up from your place on the ground to grab two juice boxes, because you knew Jeonghan’s mom wasn’t going to be that mad. Not like your grandma would be at least. “She will be!”

“She never stays mad at you,” You quipped, dropping your cookie to cross your arms, a pout already forming. “You hardly ever get in trouble.”

“That’s not true!” Jeonghan shot back, copying you exactly, but stuck his tongue out in the process. “You don’t know how often I get in trouble. Especially because of you!”

“I don’t tell you to join in! I suggest!” You could feel your body growing hot with annoyance, dropping your arms with your fists now clenched. “You are the one who gets me in trouble all the time!”

“Yes, you do! You pulled my hair the last time I didn’t go with one of your plans!” Jeonghan snapped, and you gasped like he had just insulted your entire doll collection. Then you hit his arm, and his face darkened. “See! You hit me if I don’t agree with you!”

“You pushed me in the mud the last time I disagreed with you!” You countered, your young voices rising as you both did, getting into each other’s faces. “And I was grounded for a week after that too! I couldn’t watch TV because of you!”

Somehow this turned into a little squabble, where you and Jeonghan grabbed each other. Your hand was in his short dark hair, while he was trying to swat you off, crying out to let him go. In the middle of it, one of your feet kicked the plate that held your stolen cookies, breaking the plastic further and the baked treats were now being trampled by your feet.

“Look what you did!” Jeonghan yelled,  pointing to the cookies when he finally was able to get your hand out of his hair while you stood there. Your face contorted into anger, and more offense that he would blame you when he was being the mean one.

“I didn’t just do that! You did too!” You retorted, and the young boy rolled his eyes. “Our cookies are ruined! And so is our little spot! You need to clean that up!”

“No, you!”

“You!”

In the end, the two of you ended up sitting on opposite ends of the sleeping bags. Arms crossed, backs facing each other, while the broken cookies and plate rested between you both. The silence was loud as you both refused to be the one to speak first, both of you too stubborn to break first.

In the end it was Jeonghan who broke the silence, standing to grab another juice box for you both and a packet of candies that you liked from the table. A peace offering in a way. You shot him a look, your eyes dropping to the candies and juice box before up to his face. His gaze was softer, with an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, and you tried to keep up being mad, but the way his bottom lip jutted out as he apologized made it hard. Instead, you reached out and took the offerings, and he sat down next to you.

“Sorry too...” You mumbled, sharing the candies with him before cleaning up the broken plate and ruined cookies.

*Thirteen years ago*

“Oh my god, Jeonghan, stop hogging the joint!” You whined, reaching for the rolled up paper that had your weed in it, but Jeonghan seemed to be trying to smoke it all to himself.

“Give me. Remember its puff puff give. I only did one puff.” He retorted, holding the joint just out of your reach so you were practically falling into the eighteen-year-old boy.

“Bullshit! That was more than one; hell it was more than two! It was like three!” You argued back, your arm still outstretched to grab the joint from him, “Yoon Jeonghan, if you don’t give me that joint now, I am beating your bitch ass up.”

“Please like you can take me,” Jeonghan laughed, attempting to put the burning joint back to his lips, his other arm trying to push you back while you fought to grab it from him.

You both were back at the shed again, the same old structure still holding out even after all these years, but things were different. The old lawnmower was now gone and sitting next to the it, collecting more rust and cobwebs in its new home, the webs in the corners no longer there, and the sleeping bags had changed to an old loveseat that one of your friends found. The juice boxes and snacks that were once on the table were replaced with a pizza box, a half empty bottle of Jeonghan’s dad stolen whiskey, a baggy of cheap weed, and some rolling papers.

And the two seven-year-olds who would hide away in it with stolen snacks, or other things to entertain were now eighteen. Freshly graduated from high school, stuck in that limbo stage where you both weren’t quite adults but not quite children anymore, and preparing for the next steps in your life. You were going off to a school abroad while Jeonghan was staying back in your hometown, choosing to go to a local college first.

“God, you’re so annoying,” You pouted, practically pushing him back and sitting on his stomach to grab the joint, but laughter was filtering out of you before you could stop it. Bringing laughter from the pinned man below you, a lazy smirk played over his lips like he was meant to win this no matter what. “Jeonghan, you’re going to smoke it all!”

“Then I will buy you more!” He argued, and you slapped his chest. Grabbing your wrist before you could hit him again, Jeonghan’s grip held you there as he lifted the joint to your lips. Like instinct, you took a deep inhale, letting the harsh herb fill your lungs and altering your non-sober state more. You try to free yourself from him, so you can smoke it how you wanted, but he wouldn’t let you.

Pulling back finally, you blew the smoke from your lungs into the air, and it was then that Jeonghan let you go, only to be smacked in the chest once more before you slipped off him and back to your seat next to him. Your leg tucked under you, your bare skin pressing into the old wood by your weight, but you ignored any possible splinters that may come from it.

“You suck, you know that?” You tell him, and this earned another chuckle from him.

“And you blow. We’re both whores here.” Jeonghan teased, placing the joint between his lips to rest his arms behind his head. Each breath inhaled the smoke from nearly finished joint into his lungs. His long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, but there were several strands that fell loose around his face.

His old Sublime shirt torn in a different place and showed off his stomach from the way he was laying, skinny jeans, and a gold chain with angel wings that was once yours laying against his throat. Skin glowing from the setting sun and the lantern behind you both, making him look ethereal.

You envied how beautiful your best friend was.

“Give me that,” You quipped, taking the chance to swipe the joint from him. A triumphant smile was playing over your lips before you realized that it was nearly gone. “You asshole, you smoked most of this.”

“And you drank most of my whiskey. Call us even.” He answered dismissively, closing his eyes briefly.

“Whatever,” you told him, taking whatever hit you can of the joint before putting it out, smashing it hard against the wood. Silence followed, the two of you sitting at the doorway of the shed, your eyes scanning the overgrown yard and the half burnt down house just feet from you.

It’d been like that for years, with no one coming to do anything about the destroyed home or the property it stood on, making it a haven for you and Jeonghan growing up, and a place of many things. Your first kiss with a boy that smelled like he used a whole can of body spray to cover that he hadn’t bathed, Jeonghan’s first kiss with a girl who tried to fight you over him.

You spent nights in the shed to avoid your grandparents and their old fashion but offensive words, many with Jeonghan right next to you. Refusing to leave you while you refused to crash at his place, because you knew his mom would call your grandparents. You got high and drunk for the first time with him next to you, and blasted music through a shitty speaker that neither of you could explain the origin of.

Hell, you two used it as a place to hide once when you had the cops called on you for stealing. You don’t think either of you had ever been so scared thinking you were caught, but it didn’t stop you because the thrill left you both laughing until your stomach hurts.

You laughed, cried, and felt every emotion you could think of in this shed, with Jeonghan beside you. In a week's time, you will be on a plane to a new country with a family friend willing to house you during your studies, and away from your home. Away from your life, away from the little shed. Away from the comforting blanket of your hometown.

Away from Jeonghan.

“You’re thinking too loud again,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, turning your gaze toward your best friend. He was still laying back; arms folded behind his head as a pillow and prop, with his eyes on you. A small sad smile played on his lips, because he knew what you were thinking about too. “Talk to me, bug.”

"You're a bug. I should squish you," You answer back, matching his smile as you watched him let our a breathy laugh.

“I would like to see you try. You couldn’t even get the joint from me.” He then lifts his leg to nudge you with his knee. “Now, talk to me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I mean, yeah your face is, but it’s at least pretty while being it.” He offered and you slapped his knee. He then sat up, giving you the famous lazy Jeonghan smirk you grew up seeing, but you could tell it was only a front.

“Just… growing up.” You told him, gesturing between the two of you, “We’re no longer kids anymore…”

“Debatable.” He murmured while you spoke.

“…we graduated high school and are preparing to be thrusted into the real world. We’re having to finally grow up and face life. I’m…” The words failed you then, and in its place was a soft choking sound. A sob that wanted to burst through, but you managed to swallow it back while blinking the sudden tears that wanted to fall. Jeonghan could see it all as he nodded. “I’m leaving… leaving everything I know…” This time your voice cracked, “Leaving you.”

“Please, the moment you agreed to marry me on the playground at five you were stuck with me.” Jeonghan answered, doing what he did best, trying to make light of something instead of showing what he’s really feeling. And you hated that it would work more times than it didn’t. “Just… there is going to be some distance between us. It’s not like I’m not a phone call or message away, and we’ll see each other again. This isn’t a final thing.”

“It feels like it is.” This comment made him tsk at you.

“It doesn’t to me.” He shook his head, watching through broken windows as a car passed by. The driver wouldn’t even know you were sharing one of the last times together before life took hold of you. One of the last times you would be free like this, this age, in the moment, and with the only person, besides your grandparents, who stuck by your side.

Someone you grew up with, someone you got into trouble with, someone who never was fake with you. Someone you saw every day and spent most of it with. Your best friend.

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. How could it be when we are still so young?” He asked simply and you could only listen to him, “It’s also not like you are leaving for good. Your grandparents are still here; your friends are here… I am here.”

“But what if our lives don’t allow room for each other anymore?” This earned another tsk, as well as an offending sounding laugh. Hurt flashed across his eyes before he looked away, like it was preposterous to even say something like that.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ll always have room for you in my life.” He said curtly, and you dropped your shoulders while making an over exasperated sigh. That wasn’t what you meant.

“Ugh, Hanni, I don’t mean it like that.” He turns his attention back to you, before flashing it toward the whiskey bottle. “I mean... what if even when I come home… we don’t have time for each other? We don’t get to see each other. You’re going to be working, going to school, and eventually you’re going to fall in love and have a partner. Same for me too.”

“I’m not sure how that sounds any different than your previous statement,” Jeonghan mumbled this, pushing his lip out in a pout. Reaching out, he caught a tear falling with his thumb, only to yank his hand away and shake it like he touched lava. This did what he wanted it to, which was to laugh.

“Hanni…”

“It’s okay. I forgive you for hurting my feelings. This is a hard time for us both,” There was so much honesty to his words, it was also written all over his face. He was trying to not think about the inevitable, which was you were leaving. Not the forever he had declared, but it was still hard. “It’s not just you losing something, I’m losing my best friend. My partner in crime. Who am I going to get into mischief with? Joshua?”

“I mean… at least he’ll keep you from getting arrested.”

“If he’s not too busy fucking anything that will let him.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes, “But I’m serious. You’re not the only one who loses something in this. Except I’m not accepting that this is it, because it’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do, I’m Yoon fucking Jeonghan. I can bend the will of others with a flick of my wrist, and this will bend to my will.” You still don’t look convinced, and he clicks his tongue before speaking again, “How about this? If life takes us on different paths that separate us further, then the year we turn thirty-one, we meet again. You and me… and any husbands, wives, fiancés, life partners or children we may have. Somewhere nice, somewhere where our busy lives can’t touch us. Where we can catch up, and remember that it’s always been us, and it will always be us.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now ask me what will happen if life doesn’t do that.” He smirks, and you giggle.

“What will happen if life doesn’t?”

“Then we do it still!” He announced throwing his arms up, before one found its way over your shoulder. “No matter what, no matter where life takes us, we meet the year we turn thirty-one.”

“Why thirty-one though?”

“Because it’s too cliché to meet when we turn thirty. Goodness, this isn’t one of those romance movies you make me watch.” He gave you a brief squeeze before getting up to grab the whiskey bottle. “So, what you say?”

“I can easily argue that the last three romances we watched was because of you, not me.” Jeonghan sat back down next to you, the bottle in his hand, but it remained unopen. His attention was on you, his eyes watching you as you try to find the words. Every part of him told you that he was serious about this, and it helped ease an ache that was building in you. “And let’s do it.”

“Perfect. Now let’s drink to the future.”

A week later, you were clinging to him at the airport as your grandfather got your luggage together. This time tears weren’t holding back, Jeonghan wasn’t able to say anything to help because he was busy fighting his own. Instead, he just held you as you gripped at the offensive SpongeBob shirt he was wearing, soaking it with not just your tears, but the mascara and eyeliner you had thickly drawn on. Only to have it cried away telling your best friend goodbye for now.

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice was soft when he pulled back, making you look at him. His eyes were shining, and red. Evidence that he’d been crying, though you knew he’d insist he’s actually high, and it nearly broke you. “Remember what I said. The year we turn thirty-one.”

You nodded, and he gives you a soft smile.

“I’ll send you the details, so make sure you have the entire year free.” He teased and you let out a soft laugh before jumping from him, pinching you. You break away from his grasp to hit his shoulder. This earned a soft laugh from you, your eyes dropping to the angel wing necklace that still rested around his neck.

“I’ll be sure to have all my information changed by then.” You laughed, and he pinched your side again. Your name then came from behind you both, your grandparents calling to you. It was time to go. Looking back at Jeonghan, you gave him a watery smile, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” This was the first time his voice finally cracked, and a tear started to fall. It was real. It was happening.

“I’ll text you when I land.”

“You better.” He teased. “I will see you again.”

“See you again.”

**A year ago**

Your phone chimed right as you were cooking dinner, cutting off the music playing briefly, but you weren’t able to stop what you were doing to look. Too focused on making sure that you didn’t burn anything, but the couple that was in the kitchen with you noticed.

“Need me to check that?” You heard Celeste ask, and you looked over your shoulder, to her and Soonyoung grabbing the plates and cutlery for the table.

“No, it’s okay. I can check it later,” You waved her off, “Dinners ready, and we have a proposal to go over.”

“I thought there was no work talk at dinner?” Soonyoung teased, making you shoot your friend and co-owner a look, only to earn a playful wink back. He then turned to his fiancé with a smile, “If we’re working while we eat, you might as well open two bottles. One for us and one just for her.”

“Watch it Kwon, or I’ll run this company with Celeste instead” You warned him, grateful that Celeste was already stepping in to grab his collar to drag him out of the kitchen with everything to arrange at the table.

Twenty minutes later, the three of you were sitting around the table, two wine bottles open with one in front of you and one between the couple. You all were talking animatedly about the proposal that you and Soonyoung were putting together, hoping that the potential investor takes on your ideas and help launch your small business globally. Soonyoung had been right to have your own bottle open; it helped ease the tension that was building in your shoulders over all this, and there were more laughs than not.

“I think we should add some tiger imagery to the presentation; you think we can do that?” Soonyoung suggested a wine glass coming up to his lips, only for it to be stopped by his fiancé. He looks at her with confusion as she only shook her head. Celeste supported his love for tigers, but even she knew when to draw the line.

“I should hire you as our creative director,” You joked, tipping your own wine glass in her direction. “You can save me from a lot of tiger themed merchandise and advertising.”

“I love you, but if I took that, I probably would be canceling the wedding instead of planning a honeymoon,” Celeste laughed, and Soonyoung looked offended. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I know how you are when you’re working. We met at work, remember?”

“Of course, I do. I barely was able to focus at meetings because all I wanted to do was look at you,” You actively rolled your eyes as the couple stared at each other like they hung the sun and the moon for each other, and it reminded you just how single you have been for the last few years. Happily single, but not when you were around these two being so sickeningly in love.

“Gag me.” You muttered making the two look at you. Celeste playfully stuck her tongue at you, and Soonyoung pretended to growl. That was when you knew that you had lost them both to being lovey toward each other. You took this chance to check your phone, remembering it had gone off while you were cooking.

It was a message. From Jeonghan.

Your eyes widened as your fingers tightened around the stem of your glass, or you were going to drop it onto the table and spill wine all over the place. Casting your eyes up, you were relieved to see your two friends were still too busy staring at each other to notice your reaction.

You and him hadn’t really spoken in nearly six years, not since you came home for your grandfather’s funeral. Of course, you would wish each other a happy birthday, send the occasional meme, or a quick hello, but other than that, you barely spoke. You didn’t want to admit that it was hard for you to respond because it made you want to go back to being that eighteen-year-old again.

But you knew what this was about. You had turned thirty recently, and his thirtieth was a few months away, which meant that the promise the two of you had made at eighteen, smoking and drinking in that abandoned shed, was also coming due. And he was reaching out to solidify the plans.

You should’ve waited to read and respond after your friends left, when you had time to yourself, but you didn’t. Clicking the notification, you unlocked the phone to read the message. Only to find it was confirmation for your plane tickets, and a set of dates. The first week of April next year, and for a week.

Back home. Where you hadn’t stepped foot in nearly six years.

A few more messages had followed.

Jeonghan: Told you to keep your schedule open. Jeonghan: See you in April, bug.

**two days before**

You might’ve been overthinking it. No, you were overthinking this as you stared at an empty suitcase, piles of clothes folded around it on your bed, bags of new clothes at the foot of the bed, and your toiletries all laid out on your bathroom counter. All waiting to be packed.

None of your clothes had felt right, the makeup you chose to bring felt too plain, and your nerves were starting to suffocate you. A part of you felt like you shouldn’t feel this nervous, because it was just Jeonghan, but another part felt you were justified because it was Jeonghan. You hadn’t seen him in person since your grandfather’s funeral, only ever seeing his life through photos that he posted online.

Picture of him traveling with Joshua, and with your other friends, and relationships that never seemed to last a few months before the person disappeared from his photos. You watched his success in becoming a pharmacist like he had always wanted and was making a life for himself. He owned his own home, and he appeared happy with his life.

You had done the same, but away from him. You made a life where you now were, and selfishly barely looked back; especially after your grandfather had passed. You made friends where you were, had relationships, started a business with Soonyoung, and you made a life for yourself. You had become a different person, like he had.

This fact wasn’t the only thing that had your nerves starting to settle uneasy in your gut. You were both different, and what if that difference was so great that neither of you could enjoy your time together again. Uncomfortable strangers the entire week instead of old friends looking to reconnect.Not only that, but what if also being back home made it worse? That being there was more painful than it should be, and it made you resent your oldest friend for bringing you back?

Then your phone chimed, with a message coming through.

Jeonghan: See you when you land. Jeonghan: And stop overthinking things. I can hear your thoughts all the way over here. Haha.

That made you burst out in a laugh, because of course this silly line he used to say to you growing up would help loosen some tightness in you. It didn’t settle your nerves though, it only unraveled them, so they weren’t making you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

You responded.

You: Too late, so deal with it.

His response was instantaneous.

Jeonghan: Gladly.

**April**

You swore this entire journey had been one big April Fool’s joke with the way everything had gone wrong. You managed to finally pack everything, though you still weren’t happy with your choices you couldn’t just go naked, but you overslept the morning of your flight. The ride you had ordered was canceled at the last minute, making you late to the airport and nearly missed boarding.

Checking in had been a nightmare, and then there was a delay taking off.

When the plane did finally set off, you thought you would be in the clear for now. It would be smooth flying after this, and the bad luck got itself out of the way now than following you the entire trip. You hoped that the long flight will go well and give you a chance to rest, or Jeonghan was going to see you have an absolute crash out over it all.

You managed to get enough sleep, so you weren’t as cranky when you landed, but it left you feeling stiff. You even tried to stretch some before unboarding, but it and the awkward shuffling didn’t help. Gripping at your carryon, your focus was to get your suitcase and out of the airport. There’s a bed somewhere calling to you, and you were ready to meet the call.

With your suitcase now secured, you checked your phone to see if Jeonghan was there yet after insisting on picking you up instead of ordering a ride. Except when you looked around the semi-crowded airport, you didn’t see him anywhere. There was no sight of the famous Jeonghan smirk, no sign being dramatically held up with your name, or anything like that.

Your phone started to ring in your hands.  

“Where are you?” You answered, pressing the device to your ear and skipping any and all pleasantries. This earned a chuckle on the other side, and your eyes immediately narrowed. Even with the time apart, you knew never to trust that chuckle.

“About that…” He started slowly, showing you were right not to trust it. There was no way he was going to try and fuck with you, but you should’ve known better, “I am running late, car troubles, won’t be there for a few hours. You’re going to have to wait until I get there.”

“Yoon Jeonghan…” You took in a slow breath, trying to fight the annoyance that was bubbling under the surface. No, he wasn’t going to do this to you after the trip you’ve just had, “You better not be fucking with me right now.”

“I wish, I could say I was,” There was a sigh to his voice, but before you could let him have it, he continued, “I am very sorry, bug. I wish I was there to see you right now. With your hair an absolute mess, your sweater falling off you, and the way you are pouting right now. It’s so cute.”

“Huh?” You blinked, looking down at your body. Your sweater had fallen from your shoulders and was resting right at your elbows while strands of your hair escaped the loose ponytail you had put up. How the hell did he know if he wasn’t there? Before you could question it, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. Twisting around, Jeonghan was standing there.

The phone still pressed to his ear, eyes shining with excitement and mischief, and that smirk that you once knew oh so well. His hair was shorter than the last time you seen him with it back to his natural dark brown. He was in a simple black t-shirt with a matching jacket and a pair of white pants, and you couldn’t stop the way your heart skipped at the sight of him.

“April Fool’s. Forgive me?” He teased, barely able to hang up the call before you were throwing your arms around his neck for a hug. The force of you jumping into him made Jeonghan stumble back slightly, but once he was able to catch his footing, his arms wrapped around your waist.

He pulled you so close your body was pressed against his like he had been desperate for this moment, but you were no better. Nuzzling your nose into his shirt, taking in the scent of his perfume and the way he held you tight. His own nose pressed to your hair, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume and shampoo, fingers flexing and squeezing gently at your sides.

Both of you forgot that you were still in the middle of the airport.

“You asshole!” You finally bursted out when the two of you parted, slapping his arm while he laughed at you attempting to scold him. He saw the smile forming over your lips, making the smirk he was wearing turn into a genuine smile. One that nearly stole the very breath from you, “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.” He still hadn’t let go of you, his hands resting on your hips like they always belonged there, his gaze drinking you in. Then he stepped back, withdrawing his hold on you to reach for your suitcase handle, “Now, let’s get out of here before you shove me into the cargo hold of one of these planes.”

“You would deserve it,” You retorted earning an eye roll from him. One hand placed firmly against the small of your back, and the other pulling your suitcase behind you. With cool precision, Jeonghan directed you out of the airport while chatting with you about his day and asking you about your flight.

Like it was all part of a daily conversation you would always have, and there was no time between your last full conversation that wasn’t in text.

“After you,” Jeonghan announced, making sure to open the passenger door for you while providing an overexaggerated bow that made you playfully swat his shoulder. A giggle escaped you as you got into the car, while he finished putting your suitcase in the back. Settling into the driver’s seat, he flashed you a lazy smile and you missed the way his hand twitched slightly to reach for yours. Instead he put the car into drive. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You know, you never told me where I was staying.” You told him, your eyes watching the way the town looked now. Businesses that were once there on the main street gone, replaced with franchise stores and popular food spots. Places that you once occupied with your friends or grandparents gone, showing that the town was growing and changing like you had.

It didn’t feel like your old home, but there was still something about it that told you it was. Just with a different look.

“Easy. With me.” He said with no hesitation, making you look at him. He had a pair of black sunglasses on, leaning back against the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel while the other rested on his lap. Looking relaxed as he drove through the familiar streets. Stopping at a light, he cast a glance your way and you weren’t sure, but you thought that his relaxed smile faltered slightly. “Rather get a room? The old motel is still open, but you might have to cuddle with some roaches and a few rats.”

“I think I am good on that,” You don’t hide your look of disgust, and this made Jeonghan start laughing as the light turned. “I would like the bed I sleep on be free of other occupants.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, his focus on the road letting silence fall over you. The radio was playing quietly, and you started to notice the familiar names of the streets.

They were the same names you would see every day growing up, the same streets you used to run around growing up. You chance a glance toward Jeonghan, only to find his focus on the road but the look on his face told you that he was waiting for your reaction.

Especially once he turned on the familiar street that the two of you grew up on.

“I knew you moved close to family, but I didn’t know you…” The words stopped in your throat when you pulled up to a beautiful home. It looked newer compared to the others on the street. White with grey trimming and a neatly cut yard with a stone pathway that lead right up to a small porch with a planter next to the door.

It was beautiful and unfamiliar, but you knew this property. It didn’t matter how long it had been since you came back; you knew exactly where you were.

“Come on, bug. Let’s get inside.” Jeonghan didn’t give you a chance to process your thoughts before he was shutting off the engine and unbuckle both of your belts. He was out of the car, leaving you there staring at the empty seat that he had once occupied.

It was the sound of the trunk closing that you were able to kick start back up and rushed to get out the car to follow him up the small pathway to the front door. Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes wide staring at the home and Jeonghan’s back.

Once inside, you didn’t stop to look around the home, instead your feet took you from the front door, through the open living room to a set of glass doors. If Jeonghan had said something to you, you didn’t hear it because your focus was getting to the backyard. You barely looked around the yard itself, just that it was well taken care of.

No, your focus was on the shed that was in the same familiar place. You could feel tears starting to burn your eyes, memories flooding back to you, your eyes flicking over to the fence that once had a broken board. It was fixed with forsythias and azaleas flourishing in front of it, but you could still see a young Jeonghan popping through it while you waited for him at the shed.

“It’s not the same one.” Jeonghan said softly behind you, but you didn’t look back, not wanting him to see a few tears fall. “The old owners finally sold the property four years ago to a realtor company. They rebuilt the house and tore down it before putting the place back on the market.”

“And you bought it.” You responded, finally looking at him. He had his hands in his pants pockets, balancing on the balls on his feet, while his eyes were on you, catching more tears starting to fall.

“Yeah, well, with the help from my parents. With conditions obviously,” Jeonghan continued, keeping his attention on you, “Moment I moved in, I had the shed put back in. It’s used to actually store shit, not a hang out like we used to have it, but just something didn’t feel right without it there.”

“What was the conditions?” You asked in a small voice, trying to wipe away the wetness from your face, when Jeonghan caught your elbow. Pulling you into a hug, he let out a soft tsk.

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” It was a clear deflection, but he wouldn’t let you wiggle away from him to call him out. Then his hands found its way to your sides and started to tickle you.

“Jeonghan!” You let out a small squeal, giggling while trying to get away from him. His own laughter mixed through yours in a sweet melody, helping you forget your tears.

“Come on, let me show you to your room.” His arm thrown lazily over your shoulder, directing you back toward the house. “And no roaches or rats to cuddle with.”

Jeonghan gave you a brief tour of his home, a kitchen and living room open floor style. Three bedrooms, the larger one with an ensuite on one side, while the two smaller ones with a Jack n Jill style on the other. Your room faced the yard, giving you perfect view of the shed, while Jeonghan had the larger room.

He left you to unpack and get cleaned up from your travels. The shower felt good, hot water helping you loosen the still sore muscles from your long flight and fight off the fatigue that you didn’t know was creeping up on you. By the time you had gotten out, your skin felt flushed from the heat with your hands and feet slightly wrinkled. The towel Jeonghan had left out was dark grey, soft and fluffy and felt like heaven against your skin.

It felt good to be out of your airport clothes and in a soft pair of leggings and oversized t-shirt. Your hair was still slightly damp, so you left it loose around your bare face Now that you were back around Jeonghan, the nerves you were feeling all but melted away and didn’t feel like you needed to look all done up just to lounge around the house.

“Hope you’re hungry.” He announced proudly when you finally emerged, setting two beer bottles on the table with a spread of take out. He wasn’t looking your way. “You took so long I managed to make us a feast.”

“Make us a feast huh?” You laughed, crossing your arms as you take in the sight before you. “Wanted to make sure it was authentically homemade by including the plastic containers?”

“I mean, only the best for…” His words died on his tongue as he went to look at you, his hand slowly dropping to his side. There was a flicker of awe and desire that went across his face before he shook his head, and it was replaced with a smirk. “…you...”

“I feel so honored,” You went to pull out of the chairs to sit, but Jeonghan had beat you to it by pulling it out for you instead, before taking a seat next to you, focusing on the containers. Grabbing both beers, you popped them open with ease and set them down in front of you both.

Dinner consisted of the two of you stuffing your faces, battling over the last pieces of meat, which he won by cheating at rock, paper, scissors. You drank several beers between you each while talking about work, friends, family, and life. You told him about meeting Celeste in college then later Soonyoung through her, the jewelry business that you and him thought up after too many bottles of wine, how it actually was doing well, and the couple’s upcoming wedding.

While Jeonghan told you about college, the trouble him and their friends got into, updated you on his parents and sister, and about the pharmacy he works at with Joshua. You laughed over stories, and it felt like no time had passed between you.

“What about relationships?” Jeonghan asked, leaning back in his chair with a beer close to his lips, watching the way you swirled your beer around in the bottle. “Anyone special?”

“Just a vibrator named Owini with two I’s.” This made Jeonghan raise a brow as he took a sip. “O.W.I.N.I. Orgasm when I need it.”

“Clever.” He coughed out after nearly choking on his beer, laughing at the name.

“What about you? Anyone in your life?” It was your turn to watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. Jeonghan was leaning back against the chair, looking forward with a half-smile playing over his lips.

“No one special. At least not for a long time.” He answered finally, finishing his beer with a smack to his lips. Licking them, he sat the beer down onto the table before standing and stretched. He ignores the confused expression on your face with his sudden movements, “Let’s get this all cleaned up bug and have a few more beers. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

You nod your head slowly, following suit to help throw away the empty containers and put away anything that you two didn’t finish. When you were done, Jeonghan grabbed a few more beers from the fridge and met you at the sofa to find something to watch. Picking some random movie that you couldn’t remember the name, both of you talked and laughed until all the beers were empty and Jeonghan was half asleep on the sofa.

**Day 2**

“Oh, it is so good to see you sweetie!” Jeonghan’s mother wouldn’t let go of you, hugging you tightly as if you were going to disappear on her if she did. The next day the two of you had gone to his parents’ for lunch on his mother’s insistence, “I missed you, my dear.”

“I missed you too,” You answered, giving Jeonghan a ‘save me’ look when she didn’t let go, only for him he didn’t come to save you, instead just watched with mild amusement from his place against the kitchen counter. Releasing you from the hug, she grasped your shoulders to look at you, making you turn your gaze back to her.

“You should not stay away so long,” She scolded, leaning forward like she was revealing a secret, “Our Hanni has not been the same since the last time you left.”

“Oh…” You let out a nervous laugh, looking back toward Jeonghan with a questioning gaze, but he was no longer looking at you. Instead, he was staring warning daggers into his mother’s back. It reminded you how he wouldn’t look at you the previous night either, but before you could say anything further, you were being lead to a table full of food.

“Sit, sit. I hope you are hungry, I made all of your favorites.” You were then gently pushed into a seat, with Jeonghan following and took a seat next to you, “Oh goodness, I forgot drinks. Let me grab those.”

“I told her not to do all this, but she insisted,” Jeonghan had muttered so only you could hear.

“I believe it,” You responded back, leaning toward him with a raised brow, “What did she mean by you haven’t been the same?”

“Nothing, just missed my best friend is all,” He answered simply. For a brief moment you thought his gaze dropped to your lips before he looked away to speak with his mother. Changing the subject all together as well.

The rest of the visit had consisted of more catching up, with Jeonghan’s father and sister coming by to join in, but you were barely able to pay attention. You couldn’t stop looking over toward Jeonghan, feeling that there was something more than ‘he just missed his best friend’.  Like true Jeonghan fashion, he didn’t give anything away.

There was a possibility that you might be looking too much into it, reminding yourself that before you left for college, the two of you were with each other every day, and were inseparable. Hell, every time you came home, you and Jeonghan would always be together. Then after your grandfather passed away, you just… stopped coming back.

It wasn’t that you had wanted to stay away, it just was harder to come back now that both your grandparents were gone. It was hard to come back when you no longer would walk into the home you grew up to them, and life just kept getting into the way. Work ended up taking precedence since you and Soonyoung were focused on your jewelry company, finding the time off had grew harder, or whatever excuse you gave to make yourself feel better for not coming back.

You had known that it had affected Jeonghan, going from having his best friend every day to a few times a year to sparse messages and social media posts, but you didn’t think that meant ‘he hasn’t been the same’.

After leaving the Yoons’, you went with him to run a few errands that he’d needed to run, and the entire time you still had his mother’s words playing in your head. Which he noticed, but like him, you wouldn’t give anything away, giving the excuse you were just in a food coma.

“I don’t believe you, just so you know.” He told you, pushing up his sunglasses with one finger while his other hand rested on the steering wheel. Casting a glance toward you, he noticed that you were looking out the passenger window. “You can keep your secrets for now, but I will get them out of you. I always do.”

“I can say the same for you.” You chirped back, your eyes on the different buildings passing by, taking in the different buildings. Some familiar, some different. You could hear him let out a breathy laugh. “You have your secrets, and I have mine. If I have to spill so will you.”

“Touche, bug.”

Once back to Jeonghan’s, you disappeared into your room to answer some emails and make a few calls for work. You may have been on a trip, but that didn’t mean that you were truly on vacation, and the workload never ends. Soonyoung was a great business partner and assured you that he had it all handled so you can enjoy your time away (since you would be doing the same when he and Celeste went on their honeymoon), but you needed a bit of a distraction.

“You hungry?” Jeonghan had asked at one point, knocking at your door as he opened it. A smile playing over his lips seeing you sitting cross legged on your bed, laptop open in front of you. You had changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a baggy sweater, your hair pulled back out of your face (save for a strand that wouldn’t stay) and look of concentration on your face.

You didn’t hear the hitch in his breath when you looked up at him, that look of concentration melt away to a small smile as you shook your head.

“I’m still full from that feast your mom made us,” You answered with a laugh, looking back to the laptop and to the email you had been working on. “I’m almost done here, just need to send off a few more emails, and then call Soonyoung regarding a large order of smokey quartz for our Smokey collection. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“You do know the whole point of this trip was to also not worry about work?” Jeonghan teased, making his way to the bed and flopped down onto the empty space next to you. Rolling onto his side, he looked up at you with his dark round eyes, shining with mischief with his hand inching toward the laptop to shut. Which you reached out and took with yours, holding it as you placed it back onto the bed. Making him pout.

“I am almost done, I promise.” You told him, not expecting the sudden urge to lean forward to kiss the pout he was sporting, nor the way you were still holding his hand. Or that he had adjusted the hold so that your fingers were laced together.

“Well, when you’re done, I’ll be right here.” He responded, finally letting go of your hand to roll onto his back, pulling his phone out to scroll. You raised your brow at him, he didn’t even look your way when he added, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m lonely out there and you’re in here working.”

“Price to pay on owning your own business.”

Though you did manage to get some work done, you couldn’t really concentrate with Jeonghan lying next to you, now fast asleep with his phone resting face down on his chest. The soft clicking of your fingers against the keys had lulled him into a sleep and you found yourself watching him several times. Taking in the way he still looked like the boy you had grown up with, only older. Thick lashes kissing his skin, skin still smooth but with the hints of age coming through. The lips that were pouting at you earlier, soft and plush looking, partially open with a soft snore leaving him. He looked peaceful, he looked breathtaking, he looked like he was where he was meant to be. Next to you. Your Jeonghan.

Your heart fluttered at this notion, the words your Jeonghan felt different even in your head. Or was it always this way and you just ignored it since he was your best friend.

When you finished your emails and came time to call Soonyoung, you chose to take it outside to not disturb the sleeping man next to you. You also wanted to enjoy the evening weather, finding yourself sitting on the step of the shed to take your call and maybe clear your head some.

The shed wasn’t the same, but the memories were still there when you sat down on the newer wood. The years you and Jeonghan spent in the old rickety building that once stood there, doing things that looking back neither of you had any business doing as teenagers. Drinking, smoking, and everything else that came with being rebellious teens and too much freedom to do it all.

It shaped who you both were as adults, and still a part of who you were. Even if you tried to run away.

“There you are.” Jeonghan’s tired voice had pulled you from your thoughts and tore your gaze from a patch in the grass to him. His face slightly puffy from sleep, and a yawn escaping him as he made his way to you before flashing you a lazy half grin. “Was wondering where you went.”

“I had to call Soonyoung and you were snoring. I didn’t want to wake you or have him questioning if I was next to a walrus.” You teased, unable to stop the corners up your lips to twitch up, earning a chuckle from the slender man.

“So, kind of you.” He muttered reaching you, leaning against the wall of the shed. The sun had already dropped past the horizon, but there was still a glow to the yard, emphasizing the shadows and adding a hauntingly beautiful look to the spring evening. “Clocked out now?”

“I’m always clocked in.” This made him chuckle, before slipping into his pocket to pull out a lighter and a joint. With the rolled herb between his lips, he lit it with the lighter. Taking a deep inhale, you watched him blow the smoke out. Looking your way, he offered it.

“You still smoke?” He asked, and you looked at the joint then back to his face. A brow raised, “Vernon managed to find some for me. I haven’t smoked since the last time you were here…”

“I actually quit myself,” You told him reaching out to take the burning herb and took a hit of it. The paper was damp from his lips, and the smoke felt harsher than it had in the past, making you cough out the cloud of smoke instead of inhaling it. You managed to take another pull from it, filling your lung with the herbal smoke. Allowing the head change take effect.

A silence followed, just the two of you passing the joint between you. Leaning back, your eyes went up toward the sky to take in the darkening sky as the stars start to appear. While Jeonghan just watched you.

“What did you mom mean?” You asked softly, after a few minutes of feeling his gaze and the joint passing between you. Looking down at the nearly finished joint, now a roach at this point, flicking some ash handing off it. “How weren’t you the same?”

“Were you?” He returned your question with one of his own, reaching for what was left of the joint. You let out a scoff.

“Of course I wasn’t. I lost both my grandparents within a year of each other, had to watch my uncle stick that stupid for sale sign in the ground before the dirt settle so he could pay his debts…” You waved your hand in the air at nothing, before dropping it into your lap. Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you continued. “I was hurting, I was angry at my uncle, I felt like I had nothing here that was mine anymore, and I just wanted to run away.” You took a breath, closing your eyes to hold back the angry tears that were prickling behind them. Remembering that feeling ruined your high. “I left already not the same, but how were you?”

Jeonghan didn’t respond for a moment, the flick of the lighter making you look toward him to find that a second joint appeared and was lighting it. He took a quick inhale of the sweet herb, before handing it to you.

“You need this more than I do,” He muttered as you took it, making you tempted to throw it at him and tell him to go fuck himself, but you stopped yourself. He looked up toward the sky, crossing his arms and you took in how he looked. His baggy jeans, and a shirt that had enough room for the both of you, hair sticking up from sleeping in your bed, and a pair of wired glasses. Ones he had to of thrown on after waking up.

You were slow to take a hit of the herb, watching him carefully.

“You had me.” He finally said, not answering your question. It should’ve infuriated you and call him out if you didn’t look so confused. Licking his lips, he looked at you before repeating himself. “You had me here still. I thought I was home for you too.”

Maybe he was answering after all, in his own cryptic way.

“You were… you are…” You told him, before sighing, “I don’t regret how long I’ve been gone, but I do regret not keeping in touch better with you. I should’ve tried better for that.”

“Maybe, but you’re here now.” Jeonghan leaned forward and took the joint from you. “I plan to make sure you remember that you’re home with me.”

You watched as the joint pressed between his lips, the way his eyes closed slightly as he took a hit, unable to tear your gaze away. Slowly his eyes opened and you could see there was a sign of mischief there. Hiding away the vulnerableness that he’d been displaying. You watch the way his own gaze dropped to your lips then back to your eyes, blowing the smoke gently from the side of his mouth.

“Why do I feel like you are trying to make me fall in love with you?” You asked, meaning for it to be a tease but it came out breathier then you meant. Part of you thinking he might kiss you, but instead he let out a laugh, leaning back against the shed wall. Like nothing happened.

“Who knows, maybe I am.”

**Day 3**

To say you didn’t really do anything was a bit of an understatement. There has been no plans for the day, aside from the plans to meet friends later, so you just laid around. Collecting your energy for a night out drinking and spending time with old friends. Well, at this point they felt more like Jeonghan’s friends rather than your own, but he had insisted that wasn’t the case. That everyone missed you and were excited to see you again.

Jeonghan also continued on the day like the previous night didn’t happen, as if he didn’t look at you like he wanted to kiss you, or ‘joke’ about you falling in love with him. He just laid around with you, bugging you at random times about how bored he was, but wouldn’t get up to do anything. He would whine about how warm you were, but he seemed to scoot closer instead of away.

He would random poke you if you weren’t paying attention to him, complain about anything you turned on, but refused to choose anything. And the entire time used his pouty voice if you snapped at him.

 “That’s it!” You growled out, grabbing the hand that attempted to pull a strand of hair falling into your face, distracting you so his other hand could tickle at your side. With his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your tank that had ridden up, making you jolt and grab that hand as well. Wrestling to get him to stop.

You’d forgotten that Jeonghan was a lot stronger than he looked, and could easily break your hold, but instead he was letting you think you were overpowering him. Filling the room with laugher, and in your wrestle, you found yourself straddling him.

Then you both froze, realizing how close you were. The tips of your noses brushing, both breathing heavy from the exertion, eyes locked with a new emotion coursing through you. Deeper than desire. Your hold then loosened on his wrists.

Now this wasn’t the first time you had ended up like this, you had many times in the past wrestling with each other. You’d done it since you were kids, with it always ending with you both laughing and unable to keep annoying the other.

This time…this time it was all different.

Your name fell from his lips before you were kissing him, which Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to return. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you closer until your chest was flushed against each other. A whimper left you at the desperation that flooded him, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, wanting more—which you willing gave him.

His lips felt like heaven against yours, and the way his tongue teased yours it left you needing more of him. More and more. Your fingers pushing through his soft strands, while his dug into your hips to pulling them down to grind on him. Feeling him already hardening underneath the soft grey fabric of his sweats, making you grow hot with need and dampen your underwear.

Then you broke from the kiss, staring at your best friend in shock while he stared at you with desperate need in his heavy lidded eyes. His bottom lip swollen from your kiss, hands still holding onto your hips like a vice, and his arousal pressing against you. With your own body ablaze with the same need right down to your core.

“I…” You scrambled off him to stand, “I… we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry… I… I need to get ready for tonight.”

Before Jeonghan could answer or stop you, you were already rushing to your room. Slamming the door behind you as you went, leaving him to stare at the space where you had been standing. Licking his lips, he slammed his fist onto the sofa cushion in frustration but stopped the frustrated groan that wanted to escape. Standing, he took off toward his room.

The ordered ride to the bar was an awkward one, with neither of you would speak or look at each other. You on one side of the backseat, playing with the pockets of your cargo pants before readjusting your tank and cardigan, the fabric not feeling like they fit right. While Jeonghan sat on the other side, looking out the window while his own hands were balled into fists on his lap.

The kiss hung between you, leaving you unsure how to approach it while Jeonghan was just unreadable. There’d been moments you thought he was angry with you, others he seemed frustrated, and then finally he appeared…sad. It ate at you, making it even harder to find the words.

The sound that erupted from the group when you entered the bar was almost deafening, and making others look your way. You were then showered with hugs, first by the girls and followed by Seungcheol, Vernon, and Joshua. Jeonghan had disappeared to the bar, leaving you to greet everyone.

“It’s been way to long,” Eunji couldn’t stop saying, hugging you for what felt like the nth time, “I thought you weren’t ever coming back.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… needed to be away.” You answered, when she finally let go of you for good, but that was because her fiancé, Vernon, had pulled her back to his side.

“No need to explain to us. We understand.” It was Vernon who spoke up, a finger wrapped through a hoop of Eunji’s pants, keeping her in place. “What matters is that you’re back.”

“And me missing you all matters too, ya know?” You pointed out with a teasing smile, when a cold glass of beer was pushed into your hands, making you look up to see Jeonghan had rejoined the group. He didn’t look at you, instead moving to Seungcheol and Joshua, leaving the others to surround you. Looking down at the beer, you hoped that your friends didn’t pick up the tension between you. Which by the silence and looks everyone was giving each other, you knew better.

You could see the way Eunji was about to open her mouth, only for her fiancé’s hand conveniently found its place over it. Minnie, who had been waiting for her moment to give you a proper hug, gave you a questioning gaze, while Seungcheol, Joshua, and Joshua’s wife looked at Jeonghan.

“I see one thing hasn’t changed,” Minnie had murmured into your ear, taking the beer so she could get an actual hug from you, “We are going to be talking about this.”

As the night went on, the tension between you and Jeonghan had loosened with him eventually finding his way back to your side. Arm thrown over your shoulder, like he hadn’t been giving you the cold shoulder since running from him and the kiss you shared, as he talked and laughed with everyone. Poking, teasing, and smiling at you like you hadn’t just rejected him in one of the worst ways possible.

It had helped you relax outwardly, joining in with the talking, teasing, even leaning into him and his touch. It was easy to do, even with the tension burning between you, it was easy to lean into his warmth like he would you. Except inwardly, you had a war raging on. One that involved the very man you were leaning into.

“I’m going for a cigarette.” Minnie announced, lifting Seungcheol’s hand off her knee to stand, grabbing her designer bag in the process, “Who’s coming with me?”

“I will,” Eunji practically jumped out of her seat, looking around the table for anyone else, both of them stopping briefly on you and Lily, Joshua’s wife. Subtly hinting that you were to join them.

“I have to pass. I been trying to quit, and don’t want to be tempted, sorry.” Lily answered, sipping at the bright blue cocktail she had ordered.

“Never apologize for that. You got more will power than I do,” Minnie waved her hand, her eyes going back to you, “Anyone else?”

“I’ll go,” You announce, standing with Jeonghan’s arm falling from your shoulder as you did. Making him look at you with a confused expression, “Just need a bit of fresh air. I’ll be back.”

You barely make it out of the bar before you were being cornered by the two women.

“Okay, spill.” Eunji demanded as Minnie pulled out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing two and a lighter from the box. One for each woman.

“What are you talking about?” You attempted to feign ignorance, but it was clear the two didn’t buy it. The three of you were very close growing up, they witnessed how you and Jeonghan were, and still knew you better than you realized.

“Either one of three things is going on here. You two either have nothing to talk about, and it’s awkward as shit…” Minnie responded, placing the cigarette to her lips and lit it.

“Which is impossible with you two,” Eunji chimed in, taking the lighter from Minnie to light her own. “No matter how many years have passed.”

“You got into a stupid fight over something like the color of his socks, or…” Minnie walked closer, holding the cigarette out enough so the smoke wasn’t hitting your face, taking in how you crossed your arms and looked away. Leaning in, it felt like the last one was more of a secret, “Something happened between the two of you…”

“And you were the one to freak out.” Eunji finished for her, “And now it’s awkward.”

“Why would it be me?”

“Because it’s always you.” Vernon’s voice popped up behind you, causing the three of you to jump. He casually walks past you to Eunji, taking his cigarette in the process to take a drag, “I had a feeling they were doing that weird best friend gang up thing.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You answer, feeling your cheeks starting to burn.

“They kissed,” Vernon took another long drag of the nicotine stick, causing your jaw to drop opened, “Jeonghan told us in there.”

“Of course he did,” You muttered, watching the way Eunji and Minnie were ready to start jumping for joy.

“Finally?!” Eunji asked with excitement, but from the look on Vernon’s face, as well as yours, that Jeonghan didn’t stop there. Flicking the ash off the cigarette, the younger man took one more drag before handing it back to his fiancé.

“And that you freaked out and ran.”

“I didn’t run, I didn’t even leave the house.” You tried to defend yourself while your two friends excitement started to deflate.

“No, but you locked yourself in your room.” It was times like this that Vernon made you wonder how easy it was to get away with murder. Eunji will be able to find love again, she can move on, and you could disappear. Change your name, live in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere.

“Ugh,” Eunji let out a groan, dropping her head back and shoulders down in frustration. While Minnie could only stare at you, gaze unreadable as she pressed her cigarette to her lips, with one arm crossed her midsection.

“What?” You asked, your own frustration started to bubble over as it slowly started to occur to you that your friends knew something that you didn’t know. Something that Jeonghan clearly was aware of, but not you. Something about you and him. “I kissed him, yes. We were wrestling and it just happened, but it shouldn’t have. It just made things awkward and could just ruin our friendship.” You didn’t mention how much you wanted to do it again but couldn’t risk losing him for good. “What is with this ‘finally’ shit, anyways? Like shouldn’t you guys be worried that this could ruin our already fragile friendship.”

There was a silence as the three looked at each other. Like it dawned on them that you really didn’t know.

“You really don’t know?” It was Minnie who asked, taking another long drag as she moved her gaze to you again, followed by the couple behind her.

“Know what Min?” You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides, but there was something deep in you that told you that you already knew. Something that was sitting inside you for years, and you refused to acknowledge it, because it was easier than to face it.

There was a beat of silence between the four of them, with Eunji focused on her cigarette, Minnie watching you with an almost pitied look, and Vernon pushing his tongue into his cheek. Each of them waiting for the other to either come out with it, or for it to finally dawn on you. For you to finally see it.

“That he’s in love with you…” It was Vernon who said it, since neither of the girls spoke up, then his attention went to Minnie, “You think I can get my own smoke?”

You stood there in absolute silence while a pack of cigarettes exchanged hands, staring at your friends. It wasn’t that you had needed to process this, it wasn’t that at all. Instead, the words reached into your chest, into your heart and pulled out something you already known. Something he was trying to tell you, that he’s been trying to tell you.

“You guys are insane,” You finally spoke, looking away from them, pulling your cardigan around you when a cool breeze hit. “Jeonghan loves me, but he’s not in love with me.”

“Are you saying that to convince us, or convince yourself?” Minnie then asked, taking the pack back, her voice soft and understanding. You didn’t answer, still not looking at her, Vernon or Eunji, not trusting yourself to. “Did Jeonghan tell you what his parents condition was when they helped him buy that house?”

“No…” You had asked Jeonghan at least twice what this condition was, but he wouldn’t answer and would change the subject. Instead of pushing though, you just let him change it, so you didn’t have to actually hear it.

“The condition was that he settle downs like the rest of us,” She continued, and you could feel your mouth go dry, make your stomach churn uncomfortably. Unsure if it was from the alcohol, hearing all this, or both, “Or he would have to pay them back every penny.”

This made you look up to see her smiling at you, with it being as soft as her voice. Minnie flicked the ash off the near finished cigarette, your friends letting you take in what you were being told.

“What does that have to do with me, though?” You asked, feeling like you already knew the answer without it having to be said.

“Because.” Dropping the cigarette onto the ground, the taller woman hooked your arm with hers to walk back to the bar. Leaving Vernon and Eunji to finish their own smokes, “For him, the condition wasn’t just anyone, because to him, it only would be you.”

You’d barely made it back into the bar before Jeonghan had let out an overexaggerated yawn as he announced that he was going to order a ride home. This earned a chorus of groans from everyone, except for you. Your brain was already a buzz from the conversations outside, with the only thing you could do was stare at him. The bill of his hat pulled low, with it and his hair falling over his eyes. There was a deep frown playing over his lips, and body language reading that he no longer wanted to be there.

“You staying?” He asked you, making you blink out of your thoughts, already having his phone out to get a ride ordered. Several pairs of eyes turn to you, waiting for your response. Minnie had found her place back next to Seungcheol, leaning into her boyfriend, watching you with a knowing gaze.

Telling you to go with him.

“Nah, I’m getting tired myself.” You answered, letting out a chuckle, “I honestly am surprised I managed as long as I have. I’ve traded a night out at the bar with a bottle of wine at home, and most times in bed.”

Jeonghan nodded, already having the ride ordered, and the group advanced on you. Hugging you tightly, telling you to keep in touch, and to visit more often. With Minnie hugging you a little longer than everyone.

“Call me tomorrow, okay?” She whispered in your ear, “If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

Neither of you said anything on the ride back to Jeonghan’s, but this time the silence felt different. It wasn’t tense like it was on the way to the bar, it had shifted after being out for a few hours to something that you had a hard time describing. His tired silence, leaning back in the seat with his eyes out the window, watching everything pass by. One hand resting against his head while the other rested between you both.

Beckoning you to take it.

Except you didn’t, with your own gaze looking out the car window as well. Vernon and Minnie’s words heavy in your head.

“He’s in love with you.”

“…because to him, it only would be you.”

“If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

They left you with one of two choices by doing this. Finally face what was always between you and talk to Jeonghan, or you run away again. Get the earliest flight you can and leave before Jeonghan could wake up. Continue to run away. Destroy a lifelong friendship, one that you were meant to reconnect during your stay, because you were the coward.

You needed to make a choice. You needed to make one then.

“I’m going to head to bed, I am pretty tired,” Jeonghan announced once back, making sure the door was locked behind you before flicking his gaze to you. Taking you in, while he forced a smile to his lips and another beat of silence followed.

He was waiting for you to say something, anything. It was your chance, you either faced it or you ran away, but words failed you. They failed you in a way that never happened before with him, and it scared you.

“Goodnight, bug.” He whispered finally turning toward his room, nodding his head like he received his answer again. An answer to a question or a confession that he never said out loud.

It suddenly infuriated you.

“Are you in love with me?” You blurted out, causing Jeonghan to stop only a few steps away, watching the way his back straightened at the question. The accusation.

“Yes, I am.” He answered without hesitation, turning to look at you. That forced smile turning into a sardonic smirk when your eyes widened at how easy it was for him to say it, “I am in love with you.”

“For how long?”

“Does it matter?” The question as simple.

“Yes…no…just tell me.” You let out a frustrated sigh, shoulders dropping as you do.

“I’ve loved you since we were children, even when you would pull my hair,” He let out a chuckle, crossing his arms, “But realized I was in love with you when I had to watch you board that plane for school.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was easier to watch you go not knowing than if you did.” Jeonghan’s voice was low, the words stripping everything away that he hid behind, letting you see the raw side of him. And he still held eye contact with you.

“And the condition with your parents…”

“I had no intention fulfilling it if it wasn’t going to be you.” You noticed that he had started to close the distance that as originally there, pulling off his cap in the process so you could see his face better. Looking at you in a way he never had before, or that you noticed.

“Why?”

“Because no matter how I pictured my future, when it came to who I would spend my life with…” Jeonghan was now in front of you, close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. His hand ghosting over your cheek. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to move, you were scared to move, “It’s always you. It’s always been you.”

“Jeonghan…” His name came out in a whisper, tears starting to fall down your cheek and that was when you felt the coolness of his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb wiping away a few away. “You’re an asshole.”

A soft laugh left him, dropping his hand and taking a step back. Taking your comment as a rejection, but it wasn’t. It was far from it. You finally found a name to what that missing piece was when it came to Jeonghan. Your best friend, the boy who would be waiting for you in that run down shed every day, the teen who would get in trouble with you, the young man who let you go even though there was an ache in both your chests, and the man standing before you.

All these versions of him were one thing to you. Your Jeonghan.

“You’re an asshole for not telling me sooner…” You pouted, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt to stop him, refusing to look away from him. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan countered back, inching closer to you, his eyes flicking to your mouth.

“Yeah.”

He then kissed you, heated and hungry, like something inside him snapped; unable to hold back any longer. He had a taste of you earlier, and now that he had you again, he couldn’t keep pretending. You returned the kiss with a fever, gripping at the sleeves of his shirt because if you didn’t, he’d disappear.

His hand finding their place at your hips, squeezing them when you deepened the kiss, greedy to taste him again like you had earlier. This time with the notes of beer still lingering, but you were sure you were just the same. Releasing the sleeves of his shirt, you traced them over your shoulders and up his neck, earning a low groan from him when you gripped at the soft strands of his hair.

Hearing this sound sent a wave of heat down your belly, right to your core, your thighs squeezing slightly and enough for Jeonghan to notice. Making him pull away from your lips, reluctantly since he attempted to dive back in to reclaim them, only to stop himself.

“You’ll need to stop me now, because I have no intentions on it.” He said softly, willing to step away if you didn’t want to. You laugh pushing him toward his bedroom, tripping over each other and pulling off clothes in the process. With your bra and top gone before you made it through his bedroom door.

His shirt following quickly after, giving way to a lean frame with smooth undefined muscles, but you could feel them under your touch. Your cargos off next, leaving you in a pair of grey lace underwear, and Jeonghan had twisted you so the he was the one guiding you to his bed. His mouth claiming yours right as you felt his bed hit the back of your knees, making you drop down onto it.

Looking up to see Jeonghan standing before you, his eyes roaming from your own down your body before returning to them. His expression one of disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were on his bed, half naked. And just for him.

“Hanni…” Anything you had to say was stopped by his kiss, more heated than any of the others you had shared.

Your hands and mouths touching and kissing anywhere and everywhere you could. His mouth teasing your breasts, sucking at the hardened peaks, while your hands ran over his body. Feeling his hardened cock over his pants before they too were gone. Followed by his boxers, and then your underwear.

“Fuck…your mouth is heaven,” He moaned out when you took his cock into your mouth, swallowing him down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him. With a few expert movements, Jeonghan had to pull back to stop from cumming down your throat and ending it all too soon. “We are going to have to revisit this later.”

“But…” Your words were swallowed up by his kiss, tongue claiming yours, pushing your back against the bed, his hips pushing your legs apart. Moaning at the feeling of his saliva slicked cock pressing against your own soaked cunt, rolling your hips up against his. Needing more of him.

When you felt two fingers tweak at one of your nipples, you roll him onto his back, straddling him. Grinding down onto him while one of your hands slip between you to grip his cock. With a gentle squeeze, Jeonghan broke from the kiss to drop his head back with a groan, moving both hands to your hips. The head of his cock catching at your entrance, making you both gasp.

Then you sank down onto him, a silent cry leaving you while Jeonghan’s eyes rolled at the way he stretched your gripping walls, until you were completely onto him. Only you didn’t stay there long, not giving either of you the chance to adjust before you were moving. Planting your hands onto the bed, you lift your hips off him, leaving only the head of his cock in you before dropping down.

Jeonghan’s hands gripped onto your hips, his eyes glazed over from arousal and the sight of you. Seeing parts of you that he only imagined, your bare breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips, your mouth falling open in pleasure, right down to where your two were now connected. The feeling of your walls squeezing and gripping at him was better than any late night thoughts could compare.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he also didn’t want this to ever end. There was no way he could ever go back after this, he wouldn’t be able to go back to anything with you that didn’t involve this. Didn’t involve you being his.

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, grinding down onto him to get more friction, feeling yourself winding tighter. The knot deep in your core threatening to snap. Then one of his hands slide from your hip to between your legs, pushing his finger up to tease your clit. “I’m close…”

“Do it, baby. Don’t hold back.” He tried to play it cool with a smirk, but he was just as much of a whimpering mess like you are. Looking up at you like you were the only thing that ever mattered. You were the only thing that ever mattered to him.

“Shit, Shit…” You chanted, every muscle tightening as you came, “I love you, I love you.”

Then you were on your back, Jeonghan rolling you over without pulling out, taking over for you. Fucking into you with a vigor you never experienced from him.

“I love you…” He whispered into your mouth, cupping your face, his own release following quickly after. Neither of you moved, staying connected as you came down from your highs, with him now pulling back to look at you. Your well kissed lips, your hair a mess from running your fingers through it, and your still glazed over eyes. A scene that made him fall even more in love. “Please don’t leave… stay… I can’t let you go again.”

“Jeonghan…” You sigh, closing your eyes as you attempted to slip off him. Oversensitivity starting to take over, but he kept you there on top of him. “I have to though…” That was when you felt his hands loosen on your hips, and the look on his face nearly broke you, but still a small smile graced your lips, “I mean… If I plan to move back, I got to get everything in order…”

“No you don’t,” He pouted, and you leaned forward to kiss him. Soft, promising. “You can just start back over here… I am not letting you go.”

“Then I guess we need to buy you a plane ticket then.” You tease, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face that you’ve loved for years. “Cause I do have to go back.”

“We’ll see about that,” He smirked, making you laugh. “I love you. Always you.”

Thank you so much for reading I seriously hope you all enjoyed this!

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to know I am doing well!

“I go, mama?” he asks when you’ve accepted what he’s been waving around and realise it’s two small envelopes, one plain white with Taehyung’s name written on the front in neat— though still child-like— handwriting, and the other you think was once white, but it’s been entirely scribbled over by a whole selection of coloured pencil as far as you can see while it’s behind the other.

“Give me a minute to see what they are first,” you muse with a chuckle as you open the top envelope— the white one— and pull out the little card within. “Oh, a party invitation,” you realise, smiling at the thought of Taehyung being invited to his first birthday party at this school. Or, at least, the first birthday party he’s aware beforehand that he’s been invited to. Though spotting that the date on the invitation is only two days away, and noticing that it’s from Jeonghan, your smile lowers a little in worry that the little boy has purposely left it so late to give Taehyung his invite. “Baby, this is on Friday after school,” you point out, looking up at Taehyung.

“Hannie gave ‘em us all lunch today,” he says, unintentionally soothing your worry that Jeonghan had singled out your little boy again, but it seems as if that’s not the case at all, and you relax a little. “I can go?”

“Mm,” you hum thoughtfully as you look at the invitation again. “It’s for pizza and movies at Jeonghan’s house, you’d like to do that?”

“Yes!” Taehyung cheers enthusiastically, so you glance around in search of Mingyu and find him leaning in the living room doorway, clearly waiting knowing that Taehyung had something to show you, that the pair of— as Taehyung’s parents— would need to discuss. Not that you discuss it now, Mingyu just nods with a little smile on his face, silently giving his consent to your son attending the party.

“Okay, baby, you can go,” you confirm, making Taehyung let out an excited noise before bouncing happily around for a moment. You take the chance to grab your phone from the side table to send a text to the number listed on the invitation to confirm Taehyung’s presence and specify any requirements— as requested on the little card.

Once you’re done sending the text and saving the number as “Jeonghan’s mother”, you turn your attention to the rainbow scrawled envelope, noticing that this time, Taehyung’s name was obviously written by an adult, no five-year-old has handwriting that neat. Your son bounces back over when he notices that you’re pulling the folded paper out. This one is printed in a farmyard theme and is also covered in shiny animal stickers on the back, making you smile a little.

“Who’s Jimin?” you wonder once you’re read the invitation fully and realise that you don’t recall Taehyung mentioning anyone called Jimin before, and you’ve also never seen the name printed on the cubbies in the few times you’ve been in their classroom. Perhaps it’s a new student.

“He’s with the little kids but we are same age! He’s all smiley like Soo, but he is like a little kid like Cheolie’s little brother, he’s three,” he explains simply, and you hum in understanding. It makes sense that you’ve not heard of Jimin before, not if he has a much younger mental age than his same-aged peers, so he’s with the younger children who are at the same mental age as him.

You assume he and your son have only recently met, likely on the playground as you don’t think the students mix during any other point in the day. “And you’ve played with him at breaktime?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung nods. “He call me Tete, and we play aliens, and pirates, and run lots! Cheolie can’t run lots, so Hannie say we can’t play run games, so I play with Chim!” he explains, not seeming at all bothered that he can’t run around with his best friends, and instead happy to have another friend to play with. “Jimin says Chim, not Jimin. I think he can’t not say Jimin, but Chim is cute!”

“It is,” you agree, smiling at your son and his clear adoration for Jimin, for his lack of issue about the same-aged boy’s younger mentality and skills. You’re glad Taehyung doesn’t linger on what others struggle with, just accepts them and focuses on their strengths, and how they can be happy together. “Jimin’s party is at a farm, is that something you’d like to do?”

Taehyung’s smile lowers and he slumps as nerves appear on his adorable little face. “Just me?”

“No, baby, I’ll go with you,” you assure, glad that the invitation requests that a parent or adult guardian attends as well— free of charge— to watch over their own child while the children play together. You think it’s pretty safe to assume that Jimin himself needs a fair amount of attention and care, and the chances are that he’s invited other children from their school too, who all have their own needs. It would be an awful lot for Jimin’s guardians to watch over multiple young children with varying needs alongside trying to keep the party going smoothly, while somewhere that could easily be overstimulating with all the scents and sounds.

“And daddy?” Taehyung asks, looking over to where you assume Mingyu must still be, based on the fact Taehyung stares in that direction questioningly.

“When is it?” Mingyu wonders as he approaches to lean over the back of the sofa and peer at the paper in your hands, which you lift higher so that he can easier read the information. “Ah, no, sorry, baby, I’m in New York then,” he apologises, sounding genuinely upset to have to let down his son for the sake of work.

“Oh, can we farm some time? You, me, and mama?”

“Of course,” Mingyu easily agrees, and you hum, nodding your own agreement when Taehyung looks at you, making the boy light back up.

“For my birthday?”

“I think it’ll be too cold on your birthday for the farm to be open for visitors,” Mingyu responds, and you both watch as Taehyung deflates all over again with a disappointed little “oh.”

“I thought you want to go see the snowy mountains for your birthday?” you remind him of the idea he had in Japan once he saw photos of the snow-tipped mountains and immediately became enamoured.

Taehyung nods enthusiastically. “With Chim, and Cheol, and Hannie, and Soo, and Ji?” he requests.

“Jihoon?” you question, a little surprised that he wants his newest friend present for the trip when you can’t imagine they’ll see each other much between now and December when Taehyung’s birthday is. Honestly, with Jihoon not going out onto the playground during breaktime and Yoongi’s refusal to swap numbers with you so the boys can hang out, you think the only time the two will get to see each other will be thanks to Jin. Though as it’s been all these years already and you’ve only just met the father-son due through your mutual friend, you don’t imagine Jin will invite your two families to any gatherings at the same time unless it’s something big and important again.

“Yeah! I want fun see Ji times like huhwhywee.”

“Hawaii.”

“Yeah!”

“I don’t think seeing Jihoon outside of school is possible, baby,” you inform gently, knowing it will upset your son to hear.

“Why not?” He frowns sadly, making your heart break a little. If Yoongi wasn’t so good to Taehyung at school and a genuinely wonderful teacher and support system for the boy, you’d mentally curse him out right now for being the reason your precious boy looks so defeated.

“Because his daddy is your teacher, so it makes things difficult. He can’t really do things like that,” you answer, hoping that Taehyung will understand and not ask for further clarification; you really don’t know how you’d explain it to Taehyung when you honestly don’t understand Yoongi’s aversion yourself.

“Oh… Then not Ji and just Chim, and Cheol, and Hannie, and Soo?” he requests.

“As lovely as that would be, it’s not possible to take your friends to Japan for the Christmas break, baby. Their parent’s wouldn’t agree, and even if they did, daddy and I can’t look after you all on our own; you all needs lots of special care and deserve more attention than the two of us can give you in another country like that. We’d have to invite their parents and siblings, and that would cost a lot of money, baby.”

“We not have a lot of money?” he asks curiously. “You and daddy are be famous.”

“Ah, I’m not really, not now,” you correct, knowing that these days, although your name is still fairly known in your world, you don’t really do the jobs anymore to keep that recognition going. Though, you still have enough respect in the fashion circuit to earn more than a pretty penny when you do accept a job that strikes your fancy. “Daddy is the famous one,” you point out.

Mingyu can’t deny it, his photos are pretty much part of the furniture in the majority of magazines in the country, and many internationally too. It’s more surprising to go to a shopping centre and not see a blown-up photo of your ex-husband showing off some product or another; it’s another reason you’re so glad you’re still friends. It’d drive you insane to not be able to go buy a new pair of underwear without your ex-husband’s giant, handsome face leering at you from a display in the men’s section.

“But have little money?” Taehyung asks confused.

“We have enough money,” Mingyu answers. “But to spend all that would be like showing off how much we have, and your mama and I never want to do that. Most people don’t have as much money, and so we don’t want to rub it in their faces, okay? So don’t tell anyone that we have lots of money please, Tae.”

“It is secret?”

“They can probably guess we have money because of my job, and your mama insists on driving a big, fancy car–” he cuts off with a laugh when you hit his arm. “Ow! It’s true!”

“I drive a big, fancy car to fit your giant ass in it!” you point out.

“I fit in smaller cars,” he defends.

“And complain that your legs are squished. And this car will last me for years, long enough that Tae will be grown at least, and I’m betting he’s going to be tall like you, so he’ll need space for his long legs too!”

“I be very tall!” Taehyung decides, lifting up onto his tiptoes with one hand held as high as he can get it. “Like this!”

“Wow, you’re going to be super tall,” Mingyu enthuses.

“Like you, daddy!”

“And super handsome too, huh?!” Mingyu teases then darts around the sofa to pick up Taehyung and playfully nuzzle and bite the boy while Taehyung giggles and wiggles away, more than happy to be playfully eaten— a very common occurrence in your house, by both you and Mingyu, Taehyung is just too cute to resist.

While the pair play, you copy the number for Jimin’s dad from his invitation into your phone and send a text confirming Taehyung’s presence at the farm for the party. The two are still playing when you’re done, so you decide to get up and go to the kitchen to make a start on dinner even though it’s Mingyu’s turn to cook tonight; but you know he’s unlikely to remove his focus from your son for a while yet and you’re already getting hungry so would rather eat sooner than later.

It’s almost twenty minutes later that Mingyu darts into the kitchen and dramatically tells you off for taking his job from him. Before you can argue, he picks you up and carries you into the living room to deposit you on the sofa beside Taehyung, then strolls back to the kitchen to pick up where you left off.

As soon as you’re settled on the cushions, Taehyung wiggles into your side to curl up with you to watch his current favourite anime.

“Mama, if we no go see snowy mountains, can I have birthday party?” he requests after a few minutes, tilting his head back against your arm to peer up at you cutely.

“You want a party enough to cancel the trip? You were really looking forward to that,” you comment, brushing his hair out of his eyes. You mentally make a plan to convince Mingyu to get a haircut so that Taehyung will also get his cut and stop the strands from hanging in his eyes, making him strain to see and giving him headaches.

Although the two don’t have matching haircuts and never have, as Taehyung likes his hair longer and Mingyu has his in a range of lengths and styles, Taehyung always refuses to let the hairdresser near him until Mingyu has gone first. Even though you’ve taken to Taehyung to the same shop to see the same hairdresser his whole life— the same man Mingyu has been seeing the whole time you’ve known him—, Taehyung always looks at the man as if he doesn’t know him and refuses to come out of hiding behind you until Mingyu has taken his turn in the chair first. Thankfully, Minghao is nothing but understanding and so unbelievably patient, even when he has to be extra careful due to Taehyung’s struggle with sitting still, so the boy still shuffles regularly in his seat. Mingyu does too, but he’s been friends with Minghao for so long that the man flicks his ear in scold; though only when Taehyung isn’t looking, not wanting to scare the boy into thinking he’ll be flicked if he gets the wriggles.

“I want party with my friends,” he answers.

“Mm, well, how about once we’re back from the trip, we’ll have your friends over here for a late birthday party?” you suggest, and all you need is to see the way Taehyung’s whole being lights up to know that he’s more than happy to agree.

Admittedly, you’re worried when Friday after school comes around because you still have that fear in your mind that Jeonghan will leave Taehyung out despite there having not been another issue since the first.

You’ve met Jeonghan before a few times and he’s always seemed like such a sweet little boy, even if he always looks halfway to asleep and like he probably has no idea what’s going on due to his constant fatigue— though he’s got a clever glint to his eyes, so you’re pretty sure he’s more alert mentally than his body physically is. Looking at the boy, you wouldn’t be able to guess he has a jealous streak where his lifelong best friend is concerned, you wouldn’t be able to guess he’s capable of being mean. But then again, you thought the same about most of the children at Taehyung’s old school, and they turned on him pretty easily.

Although you don’t want to worry so much about your son’s heart around his best friends, you can’t help it. Not after how hurt Taehyung was those weeks back, and how sensitive you know he can be, especially with those he loves so much. He puts his whole heart into everything that he leaves himself unprotected, so you can’t help but be worried and internally cautious in his place. You’ll never hold him back, but you will always keep an extra close eye on him when you can’t be certain he’ll come out unscathed.

To your genuine joy and relief though, you don’t receive a call to pick up Taehyung before time stated on the invitation for the end of the party, and he comes bouncing over to you with a bright grin, his school bag bouncing on his back, a party bag in one hand, and a balloon in the other.

You’re standing in the driveway talking with Seungcheol’s and Jisoo’s parents as you all arrived a good ten minutes before the pickup time, so decided to let the boys have those final minutes together. Though someone must’ve spotted you all outside as now the boys are all rushing out to excitedly blabber away about the party and their gift bags.

“Wow!” you hear Jisoo’s mother enthuse where she’s squatting down in front of her constantly smiling son. You’ve not had much chance to meet the woman before, especially not to talk to her for more than a quick greeting at pick ups and drop offs, but now that you’ve had the chance, you can say she is probably the sweetest person you’ve ever met. Looking at her with her son, you can so easily see the clear resemblance in the purity of their smiles.

“Look, a little Ponyo!” Seungcheol exclaims to his parents and little brother, taking a small dog plushie from his giftbag to show.

“Ponyo!” Hansol cheers and bounces towards his brother, grinning when Seungcheol lets him hold the toy that looks like their new puppy, before the toddler attaches to his big brother with a bright, gummy smile.

“Mama, can we buy many lots balloons?” Taehyung asks you after enthusiastically showing you his red balloon printed with golden stars, which he seems more interested in than his bulging party bag.

“You want more balloons?” you muse and then laugh softly when he nods with nothing but a serious expression on his face. “They make loud noises when they pop, remember?”

“Oh,” he murmurs, frowning as he recalls his last memories of a balloon popping and how much it scared him, prompting him to declare he hated balloons after. In fact, that last incident was almost a year ago and he hasn’t been near a single balloon since; at first, it was on purpose because he avoided them, but then he just didn’t have the chance to be near them, and you can assume he forgot about his newly unlocked fear. “We get quiet balloons?”

“I don’t think they exist.”

“Oh.” He deflates into a deeper frown and looks at his balloon as if it’s betrayed him. “This one loud pop too?”

“Not if you’re careful with it.”

Taehyung perks up again and nods determinedly. “I will be extra careful!”

“Okay, just don’t let your dad near it, you know how clumsy he is.”

“Clumsy, clumsy daddy,” he agrees, nodding, making you laugh quietly.

“Alright, let’s get going, grandma and grandpa are waiting at home for their favourite boy!” you enthuse and Taehyung’s whole being lights up, smiling big and bright and he bounces.

“Grandma and grandpa!” he cheers then turns to his friends still standing nearby to talk to their parents, with Jeonghan and his own also amongst the group now talking. “I–I can see my grandma and grandpa now!” he announces excitedly. Adorably, Taehyung’s friends all cheer as if they’re just as excited as him about the news. “Bye! See you Monday! Thank you for fun party Hannie, and Hannie’s mama and daddy!”

“You’re very welcome, Taehyung,” Jeonghan’s mother replies, smiling at him in the way most adults do honestly, in a way that means they think he’s utterly sweet and a joy to have around. It always makes you privately puff with pride. “It was lovely to have you here, thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for coming to my party, Tae,” Jeonghan agrees with a little smile then moves forward to hug Taehyung. Taehyung, of course, hugs back, then breaks into giggles when Seungcheol and Jisoo bounce over to join the hug. Then Hansol decides to join too, and wiggles himself right into the centre, making you all laugh.

“They’re so cute I might get cavities,” Jeonghan’s dad jokes, then looks at the baby monitor in his hand when a soft noise comes through. “I got the little princess,” he announces to his wife, then waves in farewell to you all before jogging into the house to care for the just-woken baby.

Somehow, you manage to get Taehyung in the car and strapped in despite the fact he refuses to let go of his balloon, scared it’ll float off up into space and an alien will get scared by it— you have no idea where he got that idea, but you decide to just awkwardly and very cautiously work around the balloon until he’s strapped in securely.

After a final farewell to the group still standing in the drive chatting, and a final thanks to the Yoon family, you get in your car and head home, listening to Taehyung retelling every second of the party happily from the backseat. Words you know you’ll have to hear at least twice more tonight as he repeats them to Mingyu’s parents, then the man himself once he’s home, but you really don’t mind.

On the day of Jimin’s birthday party, Taehyung is clearly very nervous about it. He’s never been to a farm before, so he doesn’t know what exactly to expect, even though he’s watched nothing but farm related programs and videos for the past two days to try and prepare himself and also asks you endless questions about farms and farmyard animals. You’re not ashamed to admit that you’ve had to defer to the internet many times, but you’ve learned a lot too. You’ve also ordered a couple of books that look interesting even to you. You have no idea if Taehyung will stop caring about how a farm works after today, but you think the books will be good to have anyway to give the boy a little more knowledge about something different than his current books do.

Even with a head full of fresh knowledge, and a printout of the farm’s map that you found on their website, Taehyung is anxious enough that he almost has a meltdown when every piece of clothing he owns are suddenly all wrong. Though when you literally offer him the t-shirt off your back— upon noticing how much he’s fiddling with the worn soft material and inhaling your scent off it to self soothe— Taehyung perks back up a little. Your t-shirt falls around his thighs and swallows him up, but he looks more at ease than he has all morning, so you don’t mind. It’ll be hidden under his coat, jumper, and dungarees anyway, so nobody will be able to tell that your five-year-old is literally wearing an adult’s t-shirt out all day.

Taehyung calms a lot after that, wrapped up cosy in your scent and the soft material, so getting ready goes smoothly, even if he keeps repeating the same questions about non-farm related things. You’re pretty sure he asks how old he was when you and Mingyu got your matching “T” tattoos, at least five times ever since first catching sight of it on your chest over your heart when you removed your t-shirt to give to him. Of course, it’s covered again now with another t-shirt, jumper, and coat as you head out the house to leave for the farm, but Taehyung still asks again.

“We got them on your first birthday,” you repeat, strapping him into his seat— after strapping the gift bag with Jimin’s present into the space at Taehyung’s side, at his concern he’ll drop it or it’ll fall to the floor.

“For me?” he asks.

“Of course, baby. You are the most important thing in the entire world to your daddy and I, so we got your initial tattooed over our hearts so you’re always close.”

“I get tattoo for both you when I am big,” he declares, making you smile.

“That’s sweet, baby. Maybe the three of us can get matching family tattoos,” you suggest, then giggle at the excited gasp Taehyung lets out.

“Yeah! Matchy match!” He starts to chatter away about the potential future family tattoo design. Even when you close his door and move to get into the front, he still talks away, and you just leave him to it with a little smile on your face as you drive.

It isn’t until you’ve parked at the farm and are crossing the lot to head to where you can see a group gathering that you really understand Taehyung’s concern for today.

“Mama,” Taehyung says, tugging on your hand so that you’ll stop and turn to look at where he’s standing and nervously staring off at the group— mostly smaller children, but you can spot a couple of older ones, though only one that looks to be around Taehyung’s age, and he’s wearing a birthday badge, so you safely assume that’s Jimin.

“What’s the matter, baby?” you ask, crouching down to be at his height, and hold both of his hands, even if one is already holding the handle of the gift bag.

“I am bigger,” he says, still staring at them. “What if they like not me because I am bigger? Or I hurt them playing?”

“You’re such a sweet boy, Tae, everyone loves you. And you’re always so careful. You played with Hansol at Seungcheol’s house, didn’t you? And Ponyo.”

Slowly, Taehyung turns his head to look at you as your words settle in his mind. You can already see the fear melting from his eyes as his tense expression softens out. “Yeah. I was super careful.”

“See? You know how to behave with smaller beings. You’re even so gentle with spiders when you move them for daddy.”

“Daddy is really scared of spiders,” he says, then giggles at the memories of all the times Mingyu has called for you or Taehyung, a literal child, to save him from a spider. Admittedly, you usually leave it to Taehyung to deal with as you’re not very keen on spiders yourself, but you at least don’t lose all ability to function like a human being like Mingyu does when faced with one.

“He is,” you confirm with your own little giggle, glad Taehyung is more like himself again. “Shall we go join the others? You can introduce me to Jimin,” you suggest.

“Okay, mama,” he agrees, so you get up and let go of his gift holding hand, before the two of you finish walking down the slight slope to get to the group. “Chim!”

“Tete!” the birthday badge wearing boy cheers, then darts over to almost tackle Taehyung in a hug. “I six!” he declares proudly to his friend, beaming a bright smile, eyes crinkling. Then he turns to you. “Hi! I Chim! I six!” he holds up one hand with all of his tiny fingers extended.

“Silly Chim,” Taehyung giggles and hands you the gift bag to help Jimin hold up his thumb on his other hand too. “This is six.”

“Oh.” Jimin stares at his hands then shows them to you while beaming again. “I six!”

“Wow, you’re getting so big, huh?” you enthuse, and he nods, grinning proudly and dropping his arms to his sides. “I’m Taehyung’s mama, thank you for letting us celebrate your birthday with you, Chim, it’s very kind of you.”

“You’re welcome!” he chirps, then gasps as Taehyung hands him the gift bag. “Present for Chim?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung replies, then giggles as Jimin plops on the gravel right then and there to start looking through the bag. Taehyung squats down next to him and happily watches his friend excitedly look at his gifts— which you had asked Jimin’s dad for advice about via text, just so that you didn’t get Jimin anything inappropriate for his abilities and interests, or something he already has.

“Hey, I’m Jimin’s dad, Namjoon,” the man that approaches you greets, offering his hand. “Well, stepdad technically, but I’ve been around since he was a baby, so we don’t generally specify that, but people can get weird about it if we don’t clarify upon first meeting,” he’s rambling a little, looking embarrassed by it too, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“I get it, some people can be weird about the oddest stuff,” you muse, hoping your smile assures him that you don’t mind the awkward clarification or slight rambling. “It’s nice to meet you, officially, I mean,” you add your name in response, only now realising that while texting Namjoon, neither of you had actually told the other your first name.

“You too.” He smiles, dimples popping out. “We’re just waiting for one more person, then we can go in. But if he’s any longer, we’ll leave him behind,” he informs while looking down at his watch. He backtracks quickly upon noticing your alarmed expression when he lifts his head again and looks at you. “Oh! It’s not a child; it’s my best friend, he’s Jimin and Hyejin’s godfather. Hyejin’s my daughter, by the way, she’s nine,” he motions over to the oldest of the children, standing with who must be Jimin’s mother, the woman and little girl wearing matching coats. It’s only now that you realise that Jimin and Namjoon are also wearing matching coats and beanies. It’s precious.

“Ah, that makes sense, him being your friend and not a child, I mean,” you giggle amusedly, then look over when you hear a car pulling into the lot a little behind you.

“There he is, just on time. Usually, he’s late,” Namjoon muses.

“He must really want to see some cows,” you joke, and Namjoon laughs.

“He’s a big scaredy cat; he’ll likely refuse to go near the pens.”

“I’m here, I’m here!” the man that exits the now safely parked car exclaims as he rushes over, though upon spotting you, he lights up and calls your name. It takes you a second to recognise him bundled up in his layers, even if it’s not quite cold enough for that many.

“Oh, Hoseok,” you realise, and wave in greeting.

“What’re you doing here? Wait, Tae knows Chim?” Hoseok gasps, already ignoring both you and Namjoon to squat down with the two boys and hug them both at once, which the boys both happily and enthusiastically return with calls of “Hopie!”.

“Well, I guess introductions are not needed here,” Namjoon chuckles, looking bewilderedly between you and Hoseok questioningly.

“I’m a photographer, and Hoseok seems to like booking me for all his album shoots,” you muse.

“Oh, wait,” Namjoon gasps, eyes wide. “You did those? They’re incredible, I don’t blame him for booking you as j-hope’s exclusive photographer.”

“Ah, thank you.” You blush a little at the unexpected and very genuine praise; the man truly seems awed as he gawps at you.

“Honey!” The call makes Namjoon look over at his wife. “Time to go in.”

“Oh! Right!” Namjoon gives her a thumbs up then crouches down to help Jimin pack his gifts back into the bag before he stands up. “Come on, boys, let’s go meet some sheep!” he enthuses brightly, and the two boys cheer before marching after the tall man, their little hands happily clasped together and swinging wildly between them.

“So, Tae goes to the special school?” Hoseok wonders as the two of you follow behind the three a few steps, watching them with fond smiles on your faces for the cute boys. You hum in confirmation. “He’s five too, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What class is he in?” You give him a questioning look. “I know one of the teachers. Joon and I used to work with him, and he still produces my albums with me; doesn’t come out the woodwork for much else, honestly.” He chuckles.

“Would that happen to be Min Yoongi?”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a soft laugh. “He teaches Tae? I know he’s partly subbing a class around that age right now, but I wasn’t certain.”

You nod in confirmation with a soft hum to match. “He’s Tae’s favourite teacher, absolutely adores the man, and Jihoon.”

“Oh, you met Jihoonie too? That’s surprising.”

“Not at school, at a wedding, Jin’s. You know Jin, right?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I was in the middle of Europe on tour though, so I couldn’t make the wedding. He sent me a bunch of photos to rub it in that I missed it though,” he tuts, though he’s still smiling, not at all bothered by the older man’s childish actions. “Oh, wait!” He gasps, hands lifting to flap for a second in excitement before lowering. “Does that mean Tae was the ring bearer? Jin said a close friend’s son had the job, but not Jihoon because he would hate it. I don’t think he’s got any other friends with kids though.”

“Yeah, it was Tae.”

“You have to send me photos later; Jin didn’t send me any with Tae in, but I have to see him in his little suit. I bet he outshone the groom.”

“Of course he did,” you reply with a playful scoff that makes Hoseok laugh. The conversation ebbs off naturally there, and you both tune fully into the farm and the purpose of the afternoon.

As it turns out, Taehyung loves the farm. Of course, he’s not too fond of the smells really, but he is far too invested in the animals to really pay much attention to it.

Unfortunately, Taehyung loves the animals a bit too much, and when it’s time to leave, he doesn’t want to.

The last stop on the tour— which included a stop for a lovely picnic beside the play park the children had a blast in— is the petting barn, where all the youngest animals are kept for visitors to meet. And Taehyung has fallen completely in love with a lamb that seems more than happy to be wrapped in his arms where he sits on the dusty ground with the animal between his spread legs.

It takes a few minutes for you to convince Taehyung to let go of the lamb as tears roll down his cheeks. Even then, he only lets go when Jimin toddles over, looking like he wants to cry because his friend is, and hugs Taehyung tight.

Thankfully, Taehyung gets up and holds Jimin’s hand all the way back to the parking lot at the front, sadly peering at the gift shop as you pass. The store has been cordoned off due to a bad leak in the roof that is being fixed in off hours to not disturb visitors with the noise, making it impossible to go inside like Taehyung— and admittedly, you too— love to. His gaze is forlornly stuck to a sweet little lamb plushie on display, barely visible at the back of the store, but as Taehyung’s longing, tear wet gaze finds it, a fresh sob leaves his mouth, and your heart aches.

Many may call you utterly insane for it, may call you a push over of a parent spoiling your child, but you don’t care. So what if you spent three hours driving around in search of a lamb plushie for Taehyung, so what if it’s half the size of him. You’d buy him all the lamb plushies in the world if mends his broken heart even a little.

The entire three hours in the car, Taehyung had cried and asked to go back to the farm to “my baby”. You truly never expected your son to fall in love with a lamb of all animals and want to adopt it as his child, but a part of you isn’t entirely surprised and can’t blame him. The lamb was genuinely so sweet, so cute, friendly, and full of affection for your son in particular. Even before Taehyung had sat down, the lamb had trotted around after him as he did his best to give every animal in the petting pen attention and affection. It seemed the bond went both ways, and you did worry for a second that the lamb would also be distressed, but then you figured it probably does that with someone out of every group that visits the petting barn, and it won’t remember Taehyung by the time the next group arrived.

Even around the toy stores that you had carried him into to search the soft toy sections, Taehyung cried into your shoulder. You did find a few little lamb plushies in stores, but you knew before showing Taehyung that they wouldn’t be accurate representations of the current love of his life— eyes too beady, fur too scratchy, legs too short.

Though as soon as you saw the big, fluffy, and slightly weighted soft toy, you knew it was perfect. Taehyung had wailed when you put him down on his feet on the floor, but you had to in order to reach the toy off the shelf and present it to him. His tears didn’t immediately stop when he opened his eyes to look at the toy, but he did calm a lot, and by the time he was strapped back into the car with the lamb clutched in his arms and entirely covering him from your view, he was making content little sounds.

And now, he’s curled up on the sofa, half laid on his lamb with his leg wrapped around it as they both watch TV, and you know you’d drive three hours just for a soft toy without hesitation all over again when it clearly means this much to your son.

“Mama?” he calls, voice hoarse from all the crying, as you get up from the other end of the sofa to answer the door for your late-dinner pizza delivery.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you,” he says, tilting his head to make eye contact with you, and melting your heart into a gooey mess in your chest with the clear adoration in his gaze on you.

“I love you too, Tae, with everything in me,” you assure, and walk over to kiss his head before going to the door with your chest full of warm, gooey love.

Without a doubt, you’ll always do whatever you need to make your son happy, even if others would call you crazy for it. Nothing matters more than Taehyung’s happiness to you, and nothing will ever mean more. He’s your everything, even if he does make you an early grandmother to a lamb, apparently.

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Finally, after over seven weeks of cleaning from top to bottom, redecorating every room, and buying and assembling furniture, your home feels complete. At least, on the inside because the garden is another matter entirely.

Part of what first drew you to the house wasn’t the building itself, but the beautiful garden that wraps around the entirety of it, full of lush, green grass, and so many flowers and plants that you couldn’t hope to even try to name them all. You had seen the carefully curated gardens in the photos and fell in love.

What you failed to consider though, was that the photos were taken over a year ago, when the house first went up for sale, and now it’s been neglected for at least that long.

The once tidy and obviously adored garden has turned into a veritable jungle that you have no idea what to do with, but you need to try if you want even a semblance of a chance of returning it to its former glory.

Which is all well said and done; you’re sure even a half decent home gardener would be able to tackle the tangle of leaves and stems, however, you are not a half decent home gardener. In fact, you’ve never handled a single flower that wasn’t already cut and tied up in paper, topped with a bow and a little card full of false promises and love declarations from your ex-husband.

Having been born and raised in the middle of the city, always living in blocks of pristine apartments, you never had the chance to own even a single little potted cactus. When you were younger, you were never particularly interested in plants anyway, so you really didn’t mind growing up without any in your home. Then, you got a job and didn’t even think about plants. Even the ones you walked past to work, you never considered them really, more that you were just used to them being dotted around, just part of the scenery.

Unfortunately, by the time you developed an interest in growing plants, you were married to a man that point blank refused to bring anything dirty into the spotless apartment. All you wanted was a single potted plant to keep you company during the day at home until he returned, unable to even socialise with the staff he hired to keep your shared home exactly as he liked it. You had been so lonely even as the staff bustled around day in day out; all you wanted was something alive to tend to and bond with, but you weren’t allowed, and you were left with a heart aching for something you believed you’d never have.

Yet now, you have more plants and garden than you know what to do with. Still, you’re determined to give it your best. After a few days of research and buying all the supplies you may potentially need, you step out of your front door ready to do your best to return the gardens to their former glory.

Only to immediately freeze upon noticing your neighbour walking past your house, his head already swivelled to glare in disdain at you, at your mess of a garden.

“G–good morning,” you greet, waving a little awkwardly.

As expected from the sour man, he only grunts in response— it’s such a vague sound, but you can feel the contempt rolling off of him towards you—, and then he sharply turns his head away and walks to his own home, all but slamming the door behind him.

From the very first day you moved in, as soon as you stepped your foot out of your car and onto your driveway for the first time, you just knew with everything in you that the man had scared off every potential buyer when they had visited the house for a viewing. He had been standing on his front doorstep, arms crossed and dark eyes staring you down. Which honestly, scared the shit out of you, it was such an evil look; but you had already bought the house, so you didn’t turn and run away despite the urge rearing up within you.

You had hoped that your neighbour would get used to your presence, would soften up, and at least stop glaring at you like he’s trying to curse your entire bloodline with a look, but he hasn’t. You even tried going old school and baked some cupcakes to take over to gift him while introducing yourself the next day. Yet he had sharply refused the gift, claiming to not eat sweets; only for you to spot him returning home the next day, chewing on a chocolate chip cookie the size of your hand.

The man hadn’t even introduced himself either, so even though it’s been almost two months, you have no idea what the name of your nearest neighbour is. You know the names of at least a dozen people who live in the town already from your shopping trips and walks— all of whom are lovely, to your joy—, yet not his.

Although you should be used to the man’s obvious hatred for you at this point, you’re not. Every time you catch him glaring in your direction, or when he only grunts in response to your greetings, it hurts. You’ve done nothing to warrant such hostility, and you don’t know how to fix it. The last thing you want is to spend the rest of your life living next door to man that despises your entire existence for reasons unknown, but you’ve put too much into making this old house a home that you refuse to leave.

You hope that with a little more time, he’ll at least lose a little of the fire in his sharp gaze when it’s directed towards you, but you’re not going to hold your breath, just the hope cupped close in your chest.

It takes a few days of you wandering around the garden to carefully inspect every inch and do further research on the plants already settled there before you actually start to work on the garden. You hadn’t wanted to go barging in, digging, and pulling only to kill any of the life buried in the soil; you wanted to do your best to find out which plants you need to carefully work around to keep alive, and the ones you need to pull up to stop them from hurting your other plants.

Even when you’re pretty sure that the plant you’re kneeling before is, in fact, a weed that you need to pull up to save the flowers it is winding around, you hesitate; so scared that you’re wrong or will hurt the innocent flowers getting strangled.

You’re entirely unaware of the man peering down at you from his upstairs hallway window, that he’s been watching you meander around the garden the past couple of days, utterly puzzled about what you’re doing.

“Come on, you can do this,” you mutter to yourself before taking a few steadying breaths and leaning in to carefully start unwinding the weed from the stem of the flower closest to you.

Honestly, it’s a lot harder than you thought it’d be, you have to be so careful— or maybe not as careful as you’re being, but you’re inexperienced and scared to do something wrong—, and the strangling weed is a complete asshole. Just when you think you’ve freed a plant from it’s grasps, you notice another tiny, easy to miss vine curled around a stem, and you have to lean even closer, work even slower and cautiously to make sure you only pinch the weed off and not the stem of the flowers you want to save.

It takes hours for you to finish that one small flower bed, but when you get up ready to go indoors for a late lunch, you could swear the flowers look brighter, look like they’re standing tall and happy. Although they’re just plants, and they can’t possibly have such feelings, the thought still makes you smile, and you practically skip into your house with pride in your chest from your hard work.

On the third day of practically crawling around your garden on your hands and knees amongst the overgrown grass and sprawling stems and vines, you find yourself interrupted in the midst of a very one-sided conversation with a particularly happy looking weed. Honestly, you think it’s rather pretty and don’t want to remove it, but it’s greedily sucking all the water from the soil before the surrounding plants can get any, so you don’t really have a choice.

“Are you ready?” you ask the weed, after a very thorough pep talk to you both, letting the plant know that you have every intention of replanting it in the large plant pot you found hiding amongst an overgrown blackberry bush at the bottom of the back garden.

You don’t realise that you’re being watched in utter bewilderment until a truly unexpected voice meets your ears when you’ve got one hand in the already loosened soil, fingers amongst the thick roots of the weed, and the other hand carefully wrapped around the bottom of the main stem to keep it upright as you lift.

“What the fuck?”

Immediately, your head whips around, and your wide, startled gaze finds your neighbour standing on the other side of the low wall separating your side gardens— his much smaller than your own, and barely big enough to get his bicycle down the grassy strip to the shed in the back garden. He’s looking at you with eyes wide and mouth parted in what looks like astonishment.

“Uhm, hello,” you greet, shuffling on your knees a little, awkward, and not sure how you’re supposed to respond to the man. It’s the first time you’ve seen him face on without his gaze piercing down to your very soul.

“Did you just pull that weed out with your bare hands?” he questions, dumbly pointing to it, so you also look at the weed; the thick roots tangled between your fingers further than you realised, and soil covering your skin. Initially, you did wear gloves— and still do with the potentially harmful plants— but it’s easier to feel around the delicate plants without the thick material in the way, so you mostly don’t bother to wear them.

“It’s not poisonous,” you clarify, looking at the man. “I checked.”

“I didn’t mean that. I know it only harms other plants by stealing their water, but it’s stubborn. I’ve never seen anyone pull one without the use of some very strong tools, and even then, they usually need help.

“Oh, really?” you wonder, turning back to the plant, not noticing the roots gently winding around your wrist; the sensation too light and your focus elsewhere to notice. “I guess this one is a gentle soul,” you muse, then shuffle over to do as promised and carefully replant the weed in the waiting pot already full of fresh, damp soil. “There, now you can have all the water you want without hurting the others,” you declare once you’re done after pouring more water onto the soil.

When you get up and stretch, getting ready to relocate the pot a few metres away to a spot you think the weed will like a lot, yet not be a risk to other plants, you’re shocked to find your neighbour still standing there gawping at you. You’re not sure what to do or say. You want to move the pot and return to the flowerbed, but you know that you’ll have to awkwardly shimmy and shove the heavy pot, and you really don’t want the pretty man to watch you look so foolish, especially the first time that he’s shown an interest in you.

Honestly, you kind of hate that even when he’s done nothing but be icy towards you these past two months, you still think he’s so unbelievably beautiful. You don’t think it fair that people can be so mean without reason and still be blessed with such beauty. It’s unfair. Even a few weeks back when you told yourself you’d stop looking over whenever you notice him outside, you couldn’t help but want to catch a glimpse of his features, loveliness unmarred by the scowl etched into his expression whenever he met your gaze. You really did try to stop looking at him, but such a stunning masterpiece deserves to be admired, and you’ve always been a lover of art.

“How did you do that?” he mutters, still staring at the happily replanted weed. You really don’t know what to say, and you think miming the actions would entirely freak the man out, so you just stand there, twisting your soil dusted fingers together awkwardly, and blinking innocently, hoping he’ll move on already. Unfortunately, he doesn’t. “Seriously, what kind of charm did you use?” he enthuses, eyes widening in awed interest as they lift and land on you, as if he’s trying to look into your mind for his answers.

“Uhm…I don’t understand the question,” you admit. “Is…is this flirting?” you ask, pulling an uncertain face. You feel your heart drop a little at the way he rears back as if even the mere idea of him flirting with you is absurd.

“What? No!” He straightens up, levelling you with an expression that’s half boggled and half bewildered, with a little befuddlement thrown in.

“Oh. Sorry, you said charm, and I just…that’s a flirting thing, isn’t it? When someone uses their charm?”

For what feels like minutes, the man just stares at you, as if he needs time to fully register and absorb the words you’ve said. “Oh, you’re not using any magic.” There’s realisation in his tone as his whole posture changes, something a little awkward now, especially when he realises that now you’re staring at him as if you need time to understand what he’s said to you. Though when you do speak, it’s clearly not what he expects, if the way his eyebrows lift in surprise is anything to go on.

“Is that flirting?” you mumble a little dumbly, feeling so lost and out of your depth. A feeling that only grows when the last thing you expect to happen, happens. The man giggles. It’s a light, airy sound, melodic and so pretty, and so truly unexpected from the man who has done nothing but glare at you for two months. It makes your entire being malfunction, brain shutting off, heart racing, stomach flipping, and mouth moving to make some garbled attempt at words before your legs make you dart off inside, slam the door behind you, and then curl up on the floor against it in the strangest display of self-preservation you’ve ever enacted.

For the man’s part, he just stares after you in surprise for a few moments, then lets out another one of those giggles before he turns and heads back into his own house.

It’s almost twenty minutes before you’ve recovered enough to get up and stealthily peer out of the window overlooking the area of the garden that you had dedicated this morning to. You have the perfect view of the low wall splitting your land from the neighbour’s and let out a breath of relief to find him nowhere in sight.

“It’s fine, he’ll go back to glaring and I’ll never have to face him again, it’s fine,” you mutter as you tentatively return to the door to edge outside, convincing yourself to not hide in your house for the rest of your life so that you’ll never have to face your pretty neighbour again after making such a colossal fool out of yourself.

For the first hour of returning to gardening, you feel on edge, like the man will appear at any moment and question what kind of strange place you must be from to act like that. Thankfully, you get lost in your work and forget all about looking over your shoulder, returning to your plants with a content smile on your face.

To your horror, the very next day when you step out in the morning for another day of work, your pretty neighbour is standing on the other side of your closed gate as if he’s waiting for you, a tiny smile tilting his lips, and a cake box in his hands. It’s wrapped with a pretty orange bow the same colour as the little apron you tie around your waist every day to hold your most used gardening tools for easy access, and though you vaguely notice that, you quickly dismiss it as coincidence. There’s no way your neighbour purposely asked them to wrap it in that colour ribbon to match. No way. You also ignore the fact that you’ve bought from that bakery yourself a few times since moving to town, and you’ve only seen them use pale blue ribbons.

“Good morning,” he starts, shuffling the box a little so that one hand can lift, and his slender fingers can wiggle at you in a wave. You wave dumbly back, and his smile lifts. “I think we really got off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to make up for it. May we start over?” You don’t say anything, still too busy staring in shock. “My name is Minghao; I’m your neighbour, and I’d really like to get to know you,” he informs, tone gentle, and tags your name on the end as if you’re not already halfway to a mental breakdown from his mere presence.

The fact that he had actually paid attention when you introduced yourself that day— before shutting the door in your face— and remembers, feels like a much bigger deal than it is. You just genuinely hadn’t expected him to ever call you by your name, to even willingly talk to you, so hearing it fall so effortlessly, so easily from his lips, stuns you a little.

“I’m not a good baker, but I bought cupcakes; you know, sweeten the deal?” he jokes, smiling a little embarrassed by his own words, and cheeks so endearingly pink.

You squeak, then abruptly turn into your house, and hide behind the closed door.

When you recover moments later, you knock your forehead against the door and berate yourself for making a fool of yourself again in front of the man. If this is going to become a regular thing, you think you’re going to have to move away to save yourself endless future embarrassments.

It’s utterly out of character for you too; you’ve never made such a fool of yourself because of a pretty man before. Then again, you’ve never seen such a pretty man before, and you think that means you probably get a pass or two for not being able to react like a functioning human at the sound of his giggle, or your name said in his gentle voice, or a shy blush. Really it’s his fault for attacking you with sweetness after so much sour. You thought that was the man he is: nothing more than a bitter, unsociable asshole, but it seems that he has seriously mislead you.

The more you think about it, the more you want to know why he acted so coldly towards you, only to turn his attitude around all of a sudden. You think that you deserve an explanation, and you certainly won’t get one hiding away in your house.

With a renewed sense of determination flowing through your veins, you straighten your posture and open the door, only to lose a little of that strength and shrink slightly upon spotting Minghao still standing on the other side of the waist height wooden gate, leaning his right elbow on the thick top, chin propped on his palm, and amusement sparkling in his eyes as he watches you.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling as you step out of your home like a newborn lamb taking their first steps; uncertain and about ready to drop on your ass in a mess of weak legs if he keeps looking at you like this.

“Hi,” you reply, a barely audible croak, but he smiles wider and straightens up.

“I wasn’t sure what ones to get, so I went the safe route and bought lemon raspberry,” he informs as he holds the box over the gate in offer.

“That’s the safe option?” you wonder bewildered as you slowly get closer, approaching cautiously as if he’s going to reach out and sucker punch you in the throat. Or giggle; that’s potentially more dangerous, at least for your juddering heart and apparently very weak mental state when faced with gorgeous men. Or this gorgeous man in particular, you should say.

“Well, it’s sweet and sour, best of both worlds if you ask my friend. Though, I think he’d still rather more lemon, but he’s a freak, so we don’t consider his opinion where sour is concerned.”

“You do realise you just contradicted yourself, right?”

Just as you accept the gift into your hands, Minghao giggles, realising you’re right, and you almost drop the cupcakes. He flails his arms out to help, his hands settling over yours on either side of the box, and you can only stare dumbly up at him at the touch, how close you are. Dammit, he’s even prettier up close.

“We saved them,” he grins playfully at you.

And you, in all your brainless state when faced with this man and his smile, say perhaps the dumbest thing you possibly can right now. “My ex-husband cheated on me,” you blurt, and immediately turn wide eyed when Minghao recoils in shock, his hands leaving yours and his eyes widening to match yours.

“Uh—”

“I mean that I’m very single!” you declare, brain still apparently offline as you only make things worse. “I–I mean–” you stammer out a mess of panicked, jumbled words as Minghao’s expression melts, then twists into something that’s half amused, half utterly insanity inducing where it’s tucked into his smirk.

“Is this flirting?” he teases, leaning on his palms on the gate, tilting in towards you as he repeats the words you asked him less than 24 hours ago.

“Fact!” you sputter, shaking your head.

“Ah, I see. Well, if we’re exchanging facts, I’m very single too.”

“Good!” His lips turn up into a toothy grin, a little dark around the edges as his gaze remains utterly entertained and teasing on you. “I–I mean–”

“Do you have tea?” he asks, nodding towards your house, making you peek over your shoulder at it naturally to follow his prompt, then turn your head back to look at him and nod dumbly, head wobbling loosely and mouth still open from being cut off from your nervous, embarrassed rambling. “How about I come inside for tea?”

“Is that a euphemism?” you whisper, and he cracks up, leaning down onto the gate as he laughs bodily.

“Oh, you are precious,” he giggles, peering up at you from his hunched over spot.

“Thank you.”

He giggles some more before gathering himself and straightens up, cheeks bunched with how big he’s grinning. “So, tea?”

“Why did you glare so much?” you blurt, brain kicking back in enough to remember the whole reason you stepped back out of your house. You think that if you don’t take the chance to confront the man while you can, you’ll lose the will and ability and just get swept along with his sweet giggles and teasing gaze.

Minghao’s amusement melts away bit by bit at your words, until he’s looking aside with what appears like guilt on his features while he stares at the garden to your left, right where you left the pot with the pretty weed yesterday. “I’m not sure I can really explain, not in a way you’ll understand,” he admits, tone quieter, uncertain almost. “I can imagine it will be a lot for you to take in, to accept even. You’re not…” He sighs and returns his gaze to you. “I’m sorry for how I acted, it wasn’t kind of me at all. I suppose in simple turns, I was jealous. I’ve wanted this house for the garden since it went up for sale, but I couldn’t afford it, so when you moved in, I assumed you wouldn’t care for the garden at all, that you didn’t deserve such a place as this. But I was wrong; you deserve it more than I ever could, that proves it.” He points to the pot, confusing you.

“How does that prove anything?” He just gives you a little smile that you somehow just know means he has no intention of elaborating at all. “Right.” You frown a little, confused, and not sure what is the correct thing to do here when there’s clearly something Minghao is refusing to explain, but you also don’t think it’s your place to push.

When you reach out, Minghao steps back slightly, eyes widening, though he relaxes when you just unlatch the gate and pull it open in silent offer.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding so genuinely grateful and pleased that you quickly turn to lead the way into the house, and only trip slightly on the step leading into the house. “Oh, careful,” he worries, hands on your upper arms, having reached out to steady you.

You just hum vaguely in response, too scared to open your mouth in case something stupid comes out again, and rush to the kitchen to put the cupcake box on the table and get started putting the kettle on to boil.

“Oh, it’s beautiful in here,” Minghao comments, sounding awed as he looks around where he’s standing just inside the kitchen, seeming genuinely interested in the décor and little knickknacks you’ve placed around to make the place yours.

“Thank you.”

“It’s a huge change from how Elodie had it.”

“Elodie?”

“Oh, right.” He looks at you and smiles softly. “The previous owner. She had lived here for decades, ever since she married her husband. They raised all of their children here, helped raised grandchildren, and then he passed, and she followed not long after, too empty without him in this house to have the strength to go on.”

“Oh, that’s so sad.”

“In a way, but it’s beautiful in others; how much love they shared. They lived a long, happy life together, full of love and joy, and they’ll continue that in their afterlife. I think that’s the best life a person can live; finding love and true happiness like that, do you not agree?”

“I do, but I don’t think it’s possible for everyone, for most of us.”

“Respectfully, I disagree.” He moves over to help you set up the table as the kettle signals it’s boiled.

Although it makes no sense, although it shouldn’t be possible— especially considering the strained and awkward relationship the two of you have shared until now—, you and Minghao move around your kitchen together as if you’ve done this a million times. Of course, he doesn’t know where you keep items, but he asks in a gentle tone you naturally match without thinking when you answer. It’s calm; the two of you gathering everything needed without bumping into each other once and sitting down at the table opposite one another to share the cupcakes.

“So, what do you think?” he queries when you’ve taken a few bites of your cupcake, his own in a similar partially eaten state on the cute little plate before him. Plates you could not walk away from once you saw them in a second-hand store only last week. They’re too small to use for an actual meal, so you had been worried you wouldn’t find a reason to use them, but you just couldn’t leave them in the store; they’re far too cute, and you had immediately fallen in love with them.

It had made your heart flutter in a funny little pleased way when Minghao had also seemed to fall in love with the plates once he spotted them in the cupboard and excitedly grabbed two to set up for the pair of you to eat your cupcakes off. Honestly, you had intended to not bother with plates at all and just sweep the crumbs from the table after, you hadn’t even considered using the plates, but you’re more than happy that Minghao had suggested it.

“Hm?” you hum questioningly, and he points at the cupcake on your plate. “Oh, delicious. Sweet and a little sour, perfectly balanced.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees, smiling at you in an almost tender kind of way.

For a few moments, the two of you just hold gentle eye contact, share matching smiles, before he looks down, cheeks dusted pink. Neither of you say anything more, falling into a content, calm silence that feels so right that you hope this won’t be the last time that the two of you share tea and cupcakes at your kitchen table as if there’s nothing but this table, this moment, in the whole world.

Somehow, after that day, spending time with Minghao suddenly becomes such an everyday routine that not seeing him feels so wrong that you don’t quite know what to do with yourself when it happens.

“Missed me that much?” Minghao’s voice teases from right behind you where you’re sitting in your garden, aimlessly moving around the freshly sprinkled soil in the flowerbed in front of you, mind stuck on what Minghao has been doing for the past three days he’s not been home.

“Hao,” you gasp, turning to look up at him with rounded eyes. “You’re back. You said you’d be gone a week.”

“Mm missed your tea too much. You make the best tea, you know?” he replies as he sits a little to your side on the grass you cut only a few days ago.

It’s been weeks of tackling the garden— often with Minghao close by—, removing all the weeds, and pruning away until you could reasonably drag a lawn mower over the grass. Surprisingly, the grass is in great condition for the most part, only a few bare, patchy sections where you’ve had to remove harmful weeds and move decorative rocks to make it easier to mow.

“I do?” you ask, perking up a little at the compliment. You know it’s a huge compliment too, Minghao is something of a tea connoisseur, which you found out the very first time you entered his kitchen and saw his impressive collection of teas. He even has multiple tea sets which he uses depending on the vibe he wants— his own words.

“You do,” he confirms as he smiles at you in that same gentle way he always does these days, ever since the second time you ran away from him when overwhelmed by his pretty face and precious smile. You’d like to say that it hasn’t happened since, but that’d be a lie.

Even after these weeks of being friends with Minghao, he still finds ways to fluster you and make your brain stop functioning. Honestly, you’re pretty sure that he does it on purpose, finding your reactions funny; but you never have it in you to scold him, not when he’s gained the habit of reaching out to hold you in place so you that can’t run away. Sometimes, it’s just his hand holding yours securely that pins you down, but others, if it’s physically possible, Minghao’s arms find their way around you, and he holds you close to his chest with his head tilted to rest against yours. Maybe, sometimes, you pretend that you’re going to run away just so that he’ll pull you close, but you won’t tell him that.

“Though, I didn’t just miss your tea,” he adds as he watches his hand brush over the freshly cut grass.

“No? The garden?” you assume, knowing how much Minghao loves your garden, how he wanted to buy the house purely for the garden, yet couldn’t financially manage it.

Minghao’s house is half the size of yours, only built for two people really, with a much smaller garden to match; and so, even if he sold it, he wouldn’t have had the funds to buy your house when it was available. He had been trying so hard to save up though; hence why he scared potential buyers away, hoping he could keep the house free long enough to gather the funds. But you bought it, and he burned with envy.

He’s let it go now and even admitted to you that he knew he’d never realistically be able to afford it. But hope can be a dangerous thing at times, and it took him until he watched you genuinely love and care for your then neglected garden to let that soured hope free and accept the facts.

Though, only days into your friendship, when you gave him permission to help you tend to the gardens and allotted him an area to grow whatever he wants there— having overrun his own modest garden—, you saw something lift in him, and he’s been nothing but grateful and so lovely since.

Not that Minghao isn’t a genuinely lovely person— when he’s not being a jealous asshole, that is. He’s truly such a wonderful man that you find it impossible to calm the butterflies in your stomach every time you find him looking at you with that soft gaze. But there’s something even sweeter in his smiles now, something that lightens his steps and makes him almost float into your garden every single day when he spots you out there.

Logically, it makes sense that, other than your tea-making skills, Minghao has missed your garden. In fact, you’ve never seen the man happier than when he’s sitting in your garden, smiling contently at you over a cup of tea, and soil staining his fingers around the porcelain.

“No, not the garden either,” he replies, utterly bewildering you. He glances at you from under his lashes, smiles, then lifts his head just enough to lock his gaze with yours, let you see the truth in his eyes. “You, I missed you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and your heart skips probably about five too many beats to be healthy, but you don’t care, barely even notice. Especially as your mind shuts down and focuses entirely on the beautiful man before you, his words.

As soon as your body starts to move, tries to run away to hide, Minghao reaches out to grab your arms and pull you in. So naturally that it feels like you were made for this, you curl up against him, tuck up against his chest as he settles you between his spread thighs, your left shoulder pressing to his chest with your arms curled up, fingers loosely grasping his t-shirt. Minghao’s arms settle around you, his head rests against the top of yours, and you never want to be anywhere else. The content little breath he lets out makes you think that maybe, he feels the same way.

After some minutes, when your brain decides to come back online fully instead of floating around on Minghao shaped clouds, you try to sit up. Minghao makes a noise of displeasure and tugs you back, earning a little giggle to fall from your lips. You feel his cheek bunch against your hairline as he smiles.

“Let me go put the kettle on for tea,” you say, smile evident in your light tone.

“Tea can wait.”

You gasp and lean back enough to look at him in shock. “Tea can wait?”

“This is more important,” he assures. One arm breaks your comfortable cocoon as he lifts it so that he can tenderly brush his fingers over your cheek. He says nothing, but he doesn’t need to. You tilt into his hold, prompting his palm to curve against your cheek, and he lets out another one of those content sighs. “You’re so beautiful, you know?”

“Says you,” you return, tone matching his gentle one, only loud enough for the pair of you, nothing mattering past your garden, your little bubble of home. “You’re so pretty it makes me do and say dumb things.”

Minghao giggles, and you whine a little, unable to stop it, or the way your eyes round out, so enamoured by his adorable giggles that you can’t keep it off your face any longer. Not that you’ve ever been good at hiding it, but this close with one of his slender hands still reverently caressing your skin, you couldn’t hide your adoration if you tried.

“Mm, I noticed that,” he muses teasingly and leans a little closer as he grins softly. “But I like it, like how honest you are with your reactions.”

“Even though it makes me look like a fool?”

“Even though,” he agrees with a nod. “Maybe especially because it does. It’s so cute and strokes my ego.”

“I’d love to stroke you,” you mutter dumbly as his thumb brushes the edge of your mouth. Minghao snorts a laugh, leaning back so he doesn’t laugh directly in your face. “I didn’t mean like that…not that I’d say no…if you want to do that.”

Minghao giggles again and leans back in to press a kiss to your forehead that makes you gasp softly and grip his t-shirt tighter, pulse thrumming under your skin from the unexpected affection. “Let me at least take you on a date first,” he teases. You can’t nod fast enough, setting him off into giggling laughter all over again as he curls around you and holds you closer, as if there’s nowhere he’d rather be.

A year and a half ago, you moved to a sweet little town, into a house that had been left empty and untouched for over a year, and you turned it into your home.

And now, after almost a year since that day in the garden when Minghao first asked you on a date, the house next to yours is empty. You can’t help but frown a little as you peer at it from your bedroom window, recalling all the memories you made with the man who once lived there, how much happiness you created together there.

Though, the arms winding around your waist from behind, the lips that press a tender kiss to your temple as you lean back against a familiar chest, makes the frown lift into a sweet little smile. “Stop looking at it like that, or I’ll start to believe you regret asking me to move in,” Minghao teases against your skin, tightening his hold on you a little as he leans closer into you, both of you always moving to be tucked up as close as possible in these moments of affection.

“Ridiculous man,” you scold, scoffing, yet the smile on your face only grows.

“You love this ridiculous man.”

“I do,” you confirm without hesitation, with nothing but truth in your tone. “And he loves me too.” You turn your head so that you can meet his adoring gaze.

“With everything in me,” he agrees, with just as much certainty as you spoke with, then leans in to press a kiss to your lips. “Now, come to bed, it’s our first night in our shared home.” He giggles, sounding a little giddy at his own reminder, then quickly ushers you over to the bed after closing the curtains to block out the night and give you the privacy to be able to sleep comfortably.

The pair of you excitedly clamber under the covers and cuddle up, though you both know neither of you are ready to sleep yet, too full of joyous energy thanks to this big step in your relationship, this start of a new life together; a life you both hope will be as happy and full of love as the life of previous family who lived here once upon a time.

“Hao,” you prompt after a while of content quiet between you, happy to just lay basking in one another’s love and affection. He hums questioningly in response. “I think, considering that we now live together, it’s about time you tell me the truth.”

Minghao’s hand trailing mindlessly over your waist immediately stops. “What? What does that mean?” he asks, sounding confused and a little upset. “I haven’t lied to you.”

“I know, but you haven’t told me the truth either.” You adjust, wriggling around until you’re leaning up on your elbows on his right and peering down at his furrowed features looking at up at you in the dull lamp light. “The very first day we became friends, when you told me your name and invited yourself over for tea–”

“You opened the gate,” he reminds, sounding a little petulant, making you giggle shortly before continuing.

“You told me I wouldn’t understand why you hated me so much for buying this house.”

“Oh.” His expression turns into understanding, and he tugs you back down, making you return to your rightful place at his side with your head on his chest— not that he ever needs to make you cuddle up to him, you’re always more than happy do to that. “I guess it is time I tell you, huh; you’ll learn soon enough anyway, now that we live together and I won’t be able to keep hiding it from you.”

“Wait, hiding—” you try to question him, but he shushes you and holds you tighter, places a kiss on your hairline to placate you into falling still and silent.

“You know how I always say the garden is special? Things grow and thrive there in a way they wouldn’t in my old garden, despite it being only a wall away?” You hum in confirmation, easily recalling the words he’s muttered many times over the past year you’ve been tending the garden together. “There are things that can only grow in this garden, in this soil, and Elodie used to grow them for me, knowing I needed them for my work, and it’s very expensive to get them shipped in from other places.”

“So you were pissed that you had to keep spending all that money to get your fancy flowers for your teas?” you reason, assuming that the plants Elodie used to grow, the plants Minghao now grows in the garden, are ones he dries and makes up into the homemade tea blends he runs a rather successful business selling mostly online, though some locals would turn up at his house— old house— asking for wares.

“Sort of, but not exactly,” he giggles. “They’re not exactly teas, my love.”

“What do you mean? I’ve seen them, we have them filling a cupboard in the kitchen.”

“We do and those are teas, nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” you repeat, wanting to lift up to give him a suspicious look, but he holds you firm, knowing exactly that you intended to do that.

“The ones I sell to the locals and special clients, my real source of income and true job, are potions I make as a witch.”

“A witch?!” you shriek, rearing up so fast that Minghao’s arms fly off you. Then again, the man is too busy laughing away on the mattress to hold on, finding your reaction so hilarious. Especially when he can tell that you believe him entirely, don’t even think he’s joking with you despite how a part of him thought you would accuse him of playing around. But it makes him happy, makes his heart swell, so full of love for the woman who trusts him with her entire heart and soul. He’s eternally grateful for that.

“Yes, I’m a witch, born and raised,” he confirms through his giggles, beaming up at you. “This house was built on magic soil, or the ground became infused with magic over the years, nobody really knows.”

“Is that why you glow here?” you wonder, tilting your head curiously as you sit cross legged by his side.

“Glow?” he repeats, looking utterly bewildered. “Magic doesn’t make a person glow.”

“No?” Your features scrunch a little in confusion. “Then what’s that about? Ever since you started to spend more time here, you look like you glow, not physically, but like…from within.”

Minghao’s expression turns into understanding; he sits up to cup your face and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “That glow is my love for you, growing stronger each day I spend by your side. You make me glow, sweetheart, not magic.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, cheeks warming, and eyes round and sparkling on him. “I want to make you glow like that for the rest of my life.”

“Good, because I’m never leaving your side,” he promises, and seals it with a kiss that makes you feel so warm and fuzzy, like maybe, he’s not the only one who glows.

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*End of February/March*

The music playing softly through the jukebox was something from the eighties, older than many of the patrons occupying the diner, but Seungcheol didn’t mind. In fact, it was one of his favorites to listen to as he enjoyed his dinner. The soft rock filtering through the semi quiet restaurant, the murmurs of conversations from those around him drowned out.

Some getting off work late like he had, needing a late night dinner, some on dates, or the night owls that couldn’t sleep but couldn’t stay home either. It didn’t matter to him why any of them were there, because to them it didn’t matter why he was there.

“Want a refill?” Mingyu asked, stopping in front of him, jutting his chin at the half empty glass while balancing a few plates in his hands. His brows wet with sweat from the kitchen and running around the place. Seungcheol glanced up from his burger to give his friend a nod. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks.” Seungcheol nodded, popping a fry into his mouth, and the taller man gave him a quick smile before hurrying off to serve food. The door chimed with someone either coming or going, but Seungcheol didn’t bother to check, choosing to watch Seokmin work effortlessly to cook the meals being ordered.

He didn’t even spare a glance when he heard the barstool next to him scraping against the floor, or at the person occupying it. Too tired to look anywhere else but forward.

“Hey. What are we having tonight?” Mingyu’s voice spoke up, grabbing Seungcheol’s glass to refill the soda.

“Just a burger and fries. No tomatoes.” The person spoke up, a voice that he didn’t recognize and he glanced toward the source. “Just water.”

“On it,” Mingyu nodded, setting the refilled soda in front of him. Slapping the pass while calling out her order, then grabbed a few more plates ready to be served. “Be right back with your water.”

“Thanks.” Seungcheol reached for his drink, finding himself observing the new face. You.

He hadn’t seen you before. In a town the size of Diamond Ridge,Seungcheol pretty much knew everyone. Hell, most the people in the diner he grew up around, so you stuck out to him. Your hair loose around your face, and clothes that looked like they were swallowing you up. You weren’t looking around, you were looking down at diner counter, a faraway look in your eyes.

You looked lost.

“You okay?” Seungcheol found himself asking, your gaze snapping to him. Eyes wide in surprise that someone was speaking to you, not expecting anyone to talk to you. Let alone ask you if you were okay.

“Oh, uh, yeah…yeah.” You answered nodding quickly, and it was cute the way you turned away before turning back, “Its…just I just moved here, and I’ve only really spoken to Mr. Kim. He’s my new landlord.”

“So, you’re the one who took the apartment above this place.” Seungcheol mused, taking a drink of the carbonated drink. Setting the glass down, he wiped his hands onto a crumbled napkin before offering it you. “Welcome to Diamond Ridge. Seungcheol.”

He watched as your gaze drop to his hand, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Now it’s your turn to take him in, moving from his hand back to his face then back. Contemplating taking it.

There wasn’t anything off about him in his opinion. A pair of dirty steel toed work boots, jeans well-worn and covered in dirt with his dark blue flannel matching. His short dyed blond hair a mess on his head. He felt he was also an okay looking guy, his face more tired than serious in that moment.

He just looked like a guy who got off a long shift and just wanted a hot meal.

Finally you took his hand, a firm but delicate grip with your palm warm against his. Almost too warm.

“Y/N.” You answer softly, letting go of his hand just as quick as you took it.

“Y/N.” Seungcheol said slow, feeling each syllable on his tongue. He nodded, giving you a friendly smile, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you.” You answer as Seokmin called out that more orders were ready. Mingyu then appeared in front of the two of you, setting down your water down before turning to the pass where the food was waiting.

“Yours is up next.” Mingyu let you know grabbing the plates. Seungcheol didn’t realize that it had gotten busier since he came in, his focus now on the new face next to him.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim.” You tell him, giving him a polite nod and he stopped in front of you for a moment.

“I told you, just call me Mingyu.” He playfully scolded, then was back out on the floor to serve. Seungcheol had gone back to the last of his food, but he glancing toward you.

You also sent a few his way while you waited, neither of you said anything further. You focused on not being noticed, despite being the most noticeable thing there. An unfamiliar face in a room of familiar ones, which he could only imagine how nerve wracking that was. To be a stranger.

“Ready to pay, Cheol?” Mingyu stopped in front of him moments later, and the older man nodded, wiping his lips with a napkin. Standing, Seungcheol pulled his wallet out to get enough to cover his and your meal.

“For both our meals.” Hearing this, you whipped your head toward him, ready to protest, but he was already starting toward the door, “Keep the change as a tip, Gyu. Have a great night, Y/N.”

You knew being someone new to such a small town was going to get you attention, but that didn’t mean you were used to the stares. The looks that followed you wherever you went, ranging from pure curiosity to caution to straight suspicion.

Everyone seemed to know each other, with so many growing up together. So, they were able to greet each other by name, talk with each other like old friends, while asking for your name was a foreign phrase to them. It would lead to questions that you weren’t ready to answer, and you could feel the judgement in their eyes when you avoided those questions.

You weren’t sure if you were the one making yourself an outsider or if the town’s people made you feel that way. It was not your intention to, nor could it have been for just the ones curious.

There were several friendly faces that made you feel welcome and didn’t ask too many questions. Mingyu and Seokmin were nice to you, with the taller happily hiring you on as a waitress. There was only two, and a third was desperately needed. Diamond Ridgewas a pretty small town, but Kim’s Diner was a popular spot. Even during the slowest times of the day, there was always someone in a booth eating.

Then there was the man who paid for your meal one night. Seungcheol. His gaze curious, but it didn’t feel like the way everyone else in town looked at you. He didn’t ask anything further than if you were okay, and he paid for your meal when he didn’t have to. The kindness he showed you made you feel more welcome than so many of others, and it made you want to return it to him as well.

But you hadn’t seen him again since.

For a moment, you thought maybe he’d been part of your imagination, a hallucination since you’d been sleep deprived that night. Unable to get sleep with your mind racing and your cat Max meowing through the studio apartment. The chubby tabby was still getting used to the new living arrangements, but he found the acoustics of the place made him happy.

But he wasn’t part of your imagination, with Mingyu confirming that you weren’t hallucinating. He was a very real person. Though you still had your doubts, since you hadn’t seen him since that night, with only your memory to go off of and you were too nervous to ask any of the locals about him. Nor could you ask your boss or any of your coworkers.

You were friendly with them, but you weren’t friends, nor comfortable enough to ask or talk to them about anything more than surface level. Though you probably should have in hindsight.

The fact the local bar was named Cheers made you giggle, thinking about the show with the same bar name when you walked into it. It was a hole in the wall that was found in the heart of Diamond Ridge’s main square, tucked just enough away that it took the sign out front to find it.

The inside was bigger than what you expected, walking toward the bar while taking in your surroundings. It was a slower night, with maybe five people there, and that was counting the bartender. Two were off at the pool tables, chatting and laughing, while the rest were sitting at the bar. None of them paying you a single mind, other than the bartender. He was a shorter man, with jet black hair that reached just past the nape of his neck, and a muscular frame under a fitted shirt. His sharp eyes zeroing in on you as he approached, his face neutral and didn’t give away if he recognized you or even cared. 

“What can I get you?” He asked, throwing a white towel over his shoulder, leaning against the bar patiently waiting for your order.

“Uh, I’ll take an old fashion,” You answer, and he made quick work on your drink.

“Starting a tab, or paying now?” He wasn’t even looking at you when asking.

“Tab?” It’s then he looked up at you, his brow raised, and it was then you realized your words sounded unsure. You coughed into your fist, clearing your throat to speak again, “Sorry, I’ll start a tab.”

“Name?” The bartender placed the drink in front of you, before looking at you expectantly.

“Y/N.”

“Just let me know if you want anything else.” Then he walked away, leaving you to your drink.

With glass in hand, you scanned the near empty bar for somewhere to sit, not particularly interested sitting at the counter. There was several tables and a few booths through it with a set of pool tables in the back corner and already being occupied by two men. Picking one of the booths, you sat to nurse your drink. 

It was another night that you didn’t want to be home, even with Max cuddling and the television playing something to keep the place filled with noise. You didn’t like it, you weren’t used to it, and you weren’t sure if you could get used to it. It didn’t feel right, but you couldn’t…wouldn’t go back so you had to eventually. For now, you’d just find things to occupy yourself until that happened.

You barely touch your drink, kind of regretting choosing it instead of something else, but it was the only thing you could think of. Then again, you never were much of a drinker, and you drove here. You needed to drive home, so what were you even thinking getting a drink? Taking another slow sip, you scrunch your nose at the taste, licking your lips in hopes to find something other than the taste of alcohol. You didn’t.

Laughter from over at the pool tables drew your attention in that direction and the two men playing a game. One was lean with long dark hair that was pulled back, giving way to one of the prettiest faces you’d ever seen, while the other’s back was to you. This man had short dyed blond hair, spiked up, but you couldn’t see his face. He was in a simple pair of black jeans and a black tank that showed off thick shoulders and arms. You catch sight of the top of a tattoo between his shoulder blades, and something over his shoulder.

You couldn’t make out what the words said, you weren’t close enough nor did you want to look like you’re staring. Only before you could look away, the pretty one’s eyes flicked to you and the smile he had quickly turned into a smirk. Catching you looking at his friend.

He then leaned forward to say something to his friend, making him look over his shoulder to you. The look on your face had to be a funny one, since the pretty one had burst out laughing while the other held your gaze.

Was… was that Seungcheol?

You’d only seen him one night at the diner, and the lighting hadn’t been the best, so you couldn’t remember him exactly. You only could remember his dark eyes, the curiosity and kindness that had resonated with you. That and the way his hand felt when you shook it. Strong, calloused, and warm. So warm it felt like it could burn you if you held on too long.

Breaking the contact, you looked down to notice the ice had melted in your drink, the hand holding it cold and wet from condensation. Now wishing that you just paid for it rather than opening a tab, to make an easy escape. 

“Y/N, right?” You hadn’t realized you were approached, let alone it being him who had. It must’ve been apparent when you looked up toward him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open which earned a chuckle from him. It was Seungcheol, smiling at you and that was when you noticed he had dimples.

“Ye…yeah! Seungcheol?” You finally answer now that your brain caught up with you and to the man standing before you. Leaning slightly on the pool stick he was holding, and your eyes landed on his arms. They were thick, strong looking, like the rest of his body. A body well taken care of, but also from years of hard work.

“He is, in fact,” The pretty man spoke up next to you, making you nearly jump out of your skin, not seeing him slip into the booth with you. Sticking out a slender hand, the pretty man’s tried to conceal his smirk behind a welcoming smile, “Jeonghan.”

You stare at his hand before taking it to give a brief shake, saying your name despite him already hearing it, but Jeonghan held on. Eyes studying you carefully, from the way your hair was done to the clothes you were wearing. A pair of baggy acid wash jeans that was barely being held up by a belt, a white thermal shirt under a larger shirt. An old, faded band one, well-loved with holes through it and was too big for your body.

Jeonghan then nodded, like he was approving of something only he knew, finally letting go of your hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. You’ve been quite the talk of the town.” He observed the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and chuckled, “Which I take you aren’t too fond of.”

“I don’t think anyone would like to find themselves at the center of gossip.” You pointed out, and he let out another chuckle. Nodding in agreement.

“You have me there,” Jeonghan then shot a look toward Seungcheol, then back to you, “Now, we can’t have you sitting here drinking alone. How about you come drink with us, play some pool. Have fun with some friends.”

“I just met you.” This made Seungcheol laugh, while the other man looked surprised at your comeback.

“More the reason to join,” he pressed, slipping out of the booth and offer his hand to you. A friendly gesture, a chance to not be alone for a change. Your gaze then moved to Seungcheol, who looked like he was about to start pouting that his friend offered this. Not him.

It was… it was kind of cute.

“I don’t know how to play pool, but I’ll hang out,” You agree, the words directed toward Jeonghan while you kept your gaze on Seungcheol. Grabbing your glass, you get out of the booth, ignoring Jeonghan’s out reached hand. It was noticed by both men.

“After you.” The pretty man gestured to follow Seungcheol, which you did, clutching your watered down drink in the process.

“You finish stalling now? Or are you ready to have your ass kicked?” Seungcheol asked Jeonghan, picking up a beer that was left at the pool table.

“I wasn’t stalling. Just wanted an audience to watch me win,” The other man teased, grabbing his pool stick and gave you a teasing wink. The gesture makes you roll your eyes, finding a stool to sit on. Seungcheol took a swig of his beer before sitting it next to you.

“Watch this for me?” He asked, dark eyes sliding over your face and made your cheeks feel warm. You give him a small nod, earning a gummy smile, “Knew I could count on you.”

As they played, the conversation flowed with the two men making sure to include you. Explaining who the people being mentioned were, providing a little background to a few jokes. They also asked you different things as well. Surface questions, like when your birthday was, if you had pets, and how you were adjusting to small town life.

That game ended in a draw and lead to several more, with both men earning a win under their belt each. You had another drink while they had several more beers. Enjoying their company, the way they made you feel included. Not a stranger, but a longtime friend.

That was until the question came up.

“So, what brought you to Diamond Ridge?” It was Jeonghan who asked, lining up his shot that would win him the game, and it made you physically stiffened. Your back straighter, the smile on your face now an uncomfortable frown. Jeonghan didn’t notice but Seungcheol did.

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol spoke up, his words coming out like a warning, watching you push your tongue out to wet your bottom lip and attempt to relax your body. The question had been on the tip of everyone’s tongue, but very few tried to asked. Which you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

The only person who knew anything had been Mingyu, and that was only to get him to agree to rent to you. He too had been weary of you when you first walked into his diner. Tired from driving hours from the city, lost, hungry, and desperate for a place for you and your cat to rest.

There was a loud crack as Jeonghan took his shot, the sound of the cue ball hitting the eight ball perfectly and pocketing it easily. Winning the game. Straightening himself back up, he looked at you both with a triumphant grin on his face and a shrug to his shoulder.

“It’s just an honest question. It’s not like we’d judge her.” He defended his reasoning, and while what he said may be true, it didn’t mean you were comfortable enough to share it yet. Let alone in a bar. “The last time we had anyone new move here was Joshua and his mom in high school. Can’t blame us for being curious.”

“You don’t have to answer,” Seungcheol told you, arms crossed and the grip on the pool stick tightening. It was hard to not stare at the way his muscled bulged doing this, while you shifted in your seat. You knew you didn’t have to answer, but his assurance did help.

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his head tilted, studying something you couldn’t see, before his focus was mostly on Seungcheol. The corner of his lips turned up, a flash of something go across his own dark eyes, before giving him a nod.

“I see.” That was all he said before setting the pool stick onto the table to saunter passed his friend and you, “I am going for a smoke and see if I can flirt some free drinks out of Jihoon over there. You two want to join?”

“I don’t smoke,” You shake your head.

“I quit remember,” Seungcheol answered at the same time, then let out a scoff, “And good luck with the flirting. He’ll just charge you double.”

“Price to pay to see him get all cute and flustered.” The pretty man joked, leaving the two of you alone at the tables.

A pregnant silence followed.

“I’m sorry that he asked that.”

“Don’t be,” You say him waving him off, slightly wishing that your empty glass still had alcohol in it. “I don’t blame him or anyone else wanting to ask… I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Seungcheol said calmly, finishing what was left of his beer. Setting it with the growing collection of empty bottles, he caught the way your eyes went to his arms before back to his face. Making his already red flushed skin brighten, gesturing toward the pool table. “You want to play?”

“I don’t know how to,” You repeat what you had said earlier when Jeonghan had invited you to play, and this earned a chuckle from the blond man.

“I’m not that good myself, but it’s pretty straightforward,” He then went on to give you a quick lesson on the game. Explaining the rules. You would either be solid or stripes and needed to get them all pocketed before putting in the black eight ball using a white cue ball and a pool stick. It sounded easy enough. Grabbing the stick that Jeonghan had been used, he offered it to you.

“Thank you for the offer, but…” You went to decline, only to stop when your gaze went from the pool stick to his face, finding that his bottom lip started to jut out in a pout. You managed to stop the laugh that wanted to escape you, but not the smile that graced your lips. He really was pouting over this.

Something inside you told you to take him up, and for once, you listened.

“You know what,” Standing from your seat, you took the stick he was offering. “One game.”

“That’s my girl.” He said softly, setting up the table so you could start a game, but you didn’t catch it. Instead, you stood there paying attention to what he was doing, letting him teach you. Once ready, he gestured toward the table, “You first.”

“Me?” You asked with wide eyes. He nodded his head as you shook yours, “I think you should start, so I can see what I should do.”

“You been watching us all night,” Despite this, Seungcheol didn’t argue further and positioned his stick with the cue ball. “Just got to make sure you’re lined up just right, and…” the stick hit the cue, breaking the triangle of balls at the end of the table. He straightens up as they ricocheted around, even pocketing a couple, “the game is started. Your turn.”

With a deep breath, you moved into position, trying to mimic what he had just shown you. Lining up the stick with the cue ball, but when you went to hit it you missed.

“Shit,” You muttered under your breath, and Seungcheol laughed softly.

“Your postures wrong. Here try again,” He encouraged, and you did as you were told. What you weren’t expecting was Seungcheol leaning over you, one hand placed gently on your elbow and his other helping you adjust your stance. His chest was slightly pressed against your back as he leaned closer, his mouth close to your ear. “You stand like this. Your eyes should be leveled, so you can get a good look at your shot.”

You were listening, but you could also feel your brain suddenly stop working at the smell of his perfume hitting your nostrils, or how his hot breath hit your ear. It made your own breath catch in your throat feeling his warm body encase yours, something that he clearly heard by the way he froze but didn’t let go. When he turned his head to look at you, you took the chance to hit the cue.

The cracking of the ball hitting another echoed, and you took the chance to move from him as a solid one dropped into one of the pockets. Barely able to register it with your skin feeling hot, tingling from his warm breath against it.

“Looks like you’re solids,” Seungcheol mumbled out, his attention staying on the table, but you could see that the red tint of his skin was now deeper. Taking a deep breath, he took his turn, “That makes me stripes.”

Neither of you got close like that again as the game played on, with Jeonghan returning with three more drinks that he tried to claim was free. Taking your original seat, he wasn’t watching the game you were playing, he was watching the two of you. Easily picking up the way you were acting. 

You were talking and laughing like nothing happened, but the lingering glances you kept doing made it pretty obvious that something was there.

“Last call!” Jihoon called out right as Seungcheol landed the winning shot, sinking the eight-ball easily. You hadn’t realized it was so late nor had you intended to stay out this long.

“Good game.” Seungcheol stuck his hand that you took to shake, making eye contact with him in the process. His eyes darkened with something unspoken, as if he was still thinking about that moment earlier, his hand gently squeezing yours. This time you didn’t let your body betray you and kept wearing a friendly smile.

“Same here.” You answer. It was then that you two realized that Jeonghan had disappeared. “Where did…”

“He does that. I got to give it to him, he stayed longer than he usually does.” The blond answered, taking your pool stick to put away. Taking this chance, you looked back around the now empty bar, with only you, Seungcheol, and the bartender named Jihoon left. Who had been staring you both down since yelling last call minutes earlier.

When you went to close your tab, you found it had already been paid for, and your other drinks had been placed on Seungcheol’s.

“No, let me pay!” You tell him when he pulled out his wallet to pay, digging through your jean pockets for yours. “It’s only fair since you paid for my dinner the other night.”

“You don’t owe me for that, and you don’t owe me for this,” He said simply, already handing several bills to the shorter man. Jihoon then gave you both a nod, his way of saying goodnight you guess, and went to close the tab. You went to protest, your own lip jutting out in a pout, and this made Seungcheol let out a laugh. Leading you out of the bar, you were met with the cool, dewy air and an empty street.

The still cold night sent a shiver through you, going from a warm bar to this that not even your thermal was able to help like you hoped. Seungcheol, now covered in a black leather jacket, took notice and attempted to take it off to give to you.

“No, I’m okay. I will just blast the heater when I get into my car.” You shake your head, and he slowly pulled it back over his shoulder.

“Let me walk you to your car at least.” He didn’t give you the opportunity to decline though, directing you in the direction the only two vehicles on the street. Your little black  Buick, and his old white Chevy truck. “You good to drive home?”

“I’ll be okay. How about you?” You ask, stopping next to the driver side of your car, watching the way Seungcheol slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His own gaze on you.

“Yeah, it takes more than the weak ass beer that Jihoon gets in to make a difference.” He nodded, neither of you making any moves to leave.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For dinner the other night, the drinks tonight and hanging out, and… for walking me to my car.” You manage to stutter out, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the cold air hitting your face. This earned a smile from him, a gummy one that made his eyes crinkle, and the dimples on his cheeks deepened.

The smile made him look younger, almost boyish, making you want to keep seeing it. Keep having it in your direction.

“Anytime.” His gaze stayed on you for moments longer, his grin softening before he nods his head to you. “Have a goodnight, Y/N.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

*April*

 If there is one thing about a small town like Diamond Ridge, it’s how easily word can spread even when you don’t want it to. Rumors and gossip can be shaped with each exchange of ‘what so and so said or seen’ and become almost its own being and farthest from the truth. Even if it was a complete misunderstanding, or something that was misinterpreted by nosey eyes.

Being shown how to play pool and then being walked to your car after is a good example.

You still weren’t used to the way people would stare or whisper around you, but you had learned to tune it out. Ignore whatever story they have spun about you, why you moved to the town, how you dressed or kept to yourself. It was easier than to let yourself listen or even try to defend yourself with things you weren’t comfortable to give away.

You didn’t need them to look at you with suspicion and pity. If they even cared to show pity.

When you worked, you kept a friendly smile on your face, ignoring the stares that the patrons would provide you as you served them. You kept a friendly smile as some of them would request another server or Mingyu to help them instead of you. You taught yourself how to not take it all to heart, to not think about it, hoping that if you kept your head down enough it would all stop.

That was until Mingyu had come to you with concern.

“There you are,” He sounded relieved when he stepped foot out of the diner to find you out there. You were sitting on the steps that lead to your apartment, your focus on way the trees around the diner were full of leaves and flowers, while watching the way the birds flew from each branch. Singing a song that only they could understand. “Seokmin told me you went on break but weren’t in your hiding spot in the kitchen.”

“It’s a nice day out. I figured getting some fresh air would be nice.” You answer him, a smile gracing your lips as you enjoyed the view of the trees that stretched far behind the diner. You hadn’t dared to venture into them yet, but you wondered how easy it would be to get ‘lost’ in them. To let nature surround you instead of people. Then you noticed the look of concern on his face, “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head in a nervous way, not sure how to broach the subject. “I really don’t know how to talk to you about this.”

“Did I mess up on someone’s order?” It was a reasonable thing to ask, you had been busier than usual that morning and at one point it felt like a blur. By the time your break came around, you couldn’t stay in the stuffy diner, not even in the little walk in fridge that you had claimed as a small hiding spot.

“No, your service has been great, everyone who I spoke to admits that you’re good at your job,” He shook his head before taking a seat next to you on the steps. He runs his hand through his dark hair, “But there has been… concerns.”

“Concerns?” You repeat flatly, the smile on your face dropping. “What kind of concerns?”

“Someone saw you getting cozy with Seungcheol at the bar the other night and leave with him after it closed.” He answered after a moment, still sounding unsure at his approach. You could only blink. “Did you?”

“I went to the bar, yeah, but I was not cozying up to anyone. Seungcheol and his friend Jeonghan invited me to drink with them instead of alone and play some pool. Then he walked me to my car after the bar closed, he went home and I came back here. That’s it, nothing happened.” You tell him honestly, your hands slowly closing into fists. Trying to figure out who could have made that up, then again, you couldn’t put it past anyone here in town. “Besides, what’s the concern over it anyways?”

“Because if you haven’t noticed, most of the people asking for a different server… are couples…” Mingyu said slowly, and you blinked confused. You didn’t exactly notice what kind of people were requesting to not be served by you, but thinking back to it all, it was mostly couples asking. The women being the ones requesting it, and it started to make sense about what their looks of disgust meant.

You had been so used to ignoring and not acknowledging them that it didn’t occur to you what was happening. You started to rack your brain and started to pay attention to the mumblings, the whispers, and you remembered why you learned to ignore it.

“I didn’t even try to think about it… I mean it’s not like he’s…” The words died on your lips, already sounding unsure and full of the annoyance that was starting to build in your chest. Mingyu didn’t answer, he just watched you with a pitied look that said to use your head. “Seungcheol… isn’t single.”

“They’re not anything official yet, but he has been seen around town with her more often than not. So, yeah.” Mingyu could see the way your eyes dimmed, and the frown on your face deepening. “I take it that you didn’t know.”

“No, because I don’t go around asking people if they are taken. I didn’t even actively seek him out, I was invited to hang out with them as a friend.” Your voice continued to not come out the way you wanted, with it coming out higher than you would like and probably sounded pathetic to Mingyu.

“Hey, I believe you,” Your boss said with a sigh, reaching over and patting your knee, “Cheol is a nice guy, and he’d give you the shirt off his own back if needed. Hell, this town knows him, but they just don’t know you… or your intentions.”

“My intentions is to live my life without bullshit,” You snap, swallowing back the sting of angry tears. “My intentions is to not think about my mom or my life back in the city. Not be labeled as some harlot.”

“I know. Trust me, I know better than most here how cruel these people can be.” His voice was quieter when he said this, the same hand patting your knee squeezed. “But don’t stop doing what you been doing. Keep your head high and just ignore the talk.” He then stands and turns to you with a crooked smile, showing off a long canine, “They’re all just bored bastards anyways. It won’t be long until they are bored over this and onto the next target.”

“Can’t they already be done with it,” You sigh, knowing that by the look on his face that your break was over and he was waiting for you to come with him. Standing, you smoothed out your light pink dress uniform before following him in.

“One can only wish,” Mingyu chuckled, opening the back door for you.

You didn’t expect to run into Seungcheol again so soon, or at the post office of all places. You were already in line to get stamps when he stepped into it behind you, holding a piece of mail he was sending off, and there was a shift in the air. His eyes moving to your back while you continued to look forward, clutching your wallet to your chest, counting to see how many people were in front of you.

Four. With one elderly clerk that was working at a snail’s pace.

Why was this post office so busy for a small town? And why did it have to be right then?

“We’re going to be here a while. Mr. Han likes to take his time on top of already being slow moving,” You could hear him say to you quietly, but you didn’t look back to him. Instead you took a slow inhale through your nose before licking your lips, trying your best to ignore him. Last thing you wanted was more fuel to the fire that rumor created. Then he spoke again, “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Of course, you are,” You muttered to yourself, but he heard it. Though it wasn’t like you didn’t mean for him to though.

“I am sorry.” He said again, and you were happy that he couldn’t see you rolling your eyes. Of course, he is. They always are when they’re caught, even if they aren’t the ones getting the shit end of it all. “I wasn’t trying to cause any issues. We didn’t like that you were drinking alone and wanted to make friends.”

“Friends… yeah, that’s totally what ended up happening,” You let out a scoff, but you knew that he wasn’t the one who started or twisted the rumor and it included him. You felt bad for that, but he was the one who had gotten close to you, the one who sought you out with his friend, he was the one who didn’t tell you that he was seeing someone. Whether he had meant to or not, you were the punished one. 

“Y/N.” That was when you turned to look at him, trying to keep your features neutral unlike his. His thick brows knitted tight, with a deep frown playing over his features, his dark eyes swirling with annoyance and hurt. You knew it wasn’t exactly directed toward you, but you didn’t factor it out. The one thing you were certain that was directed toward you was the underlying concern in them.

The clerk finally called the next person, and you turned to shuffle forward.

“I’m serious.” He said softly, but you didn’t bother looking back again and kept your eyes forward. Your fingers tightening around your wallet and cardigan. “Is there a way I can make this up to you?”

You didn’t answer him, ignoring him rather than engaging any further with him. It didn’t matter if he tried to make up for this, it would only make things worse. Any interactions you had up until this point had been soured since Mingyu came to you, and any after now. Which sucked because you liked being around him, but maybe it was better this way.

Seungcheol must have gotten the hint because he stopped trying to talk to you and stood behind you with a heavy wave of frustration radiating off him. It made you shift on your feet uncomfortably, wondering if anyone else here could feel it, but you refused to look back. You didn’t want to give him more of a chance to talk to you, nor did you want to see the look on his face.

After another ten agonizing minutes, it was finally your turn to get your stamps and left without giving Seungcheol another glance. The only time you looked over your shoulder was once you were out of the small post office, catching him through the window, talking to the elderly clerk with a wide smile.

Disappointment heavy on your shoulders that you still wished to be a subject of that smile despite it all.

After watching you drive away that night, Seungcheol sat in his truck until he had no other choice but to drive home. His eyes stayed on the empty space where your old Buick had been, and where he had said goodnight to you. With his mind replaying that night over and over.

“Isn’t that the new girl?” He remembered Jeonghan asking this, his eyes flicking past him and made him look over his shoulder. To see you sitting alone in one of the booths, your wide eyes on him with a look of surprise. It actually nearly made him smile with how cute you were looking. Then Jeonghan had burst into laughter right when you looked down to your drink. “She’s been checking you out, and she’s all alone too. Go talk to her.”

While the other man ended up taking over, leaning heavily into being a wingman when he shouldn’t have, Seungcheol was happy that he did approach you. If he hadn’t, he doubt he would get to see that you were more than just shy and to yourself. You were sweet, funny, with a warm smile and a giggle that made him willing to do anything just to keep them in his direction. To learn more about you.

He hadn’t liked that Jeonghan had made you uncomfortable with his questions, stepping in to stop it from going any further. He remembered that you looked grateful when he had, that someone’s in your corner and didn’t want to trap you in it. It made him feel good to see this, with it being a while since he felt this way over someone.

Leaning his face into his hand, Seungcheol could still smell the sweetness of either your perfume or shampoo when he was showing you how to play pool. He could still hear the soft hitch in your breath when he had leaned over you to help you, something he had done plenty of times in the past, but there was something about being in your space, smelling how sweet you were, and your reaction that made it feel different for him.

He wasn’t sure about the stirring in his chest as he continued to sit and think about you. Your style, the way you were yourself, how beautiful and attractive he thought you were. All of this was dangerous to him. He was a man who had things planned out already, working hard to have the home he always wanted, to be able to live without naught, and already had someone in mind to share that life with.

And here you are, coming in and making him question if he really was right with choosing to pursue Danni. If maybe he had gotten it wrong after all.

No, it was just because you were new. A new face in a sea of faces that he would see every day, you were fresh and something he wasn’t used to. He hoped that this feeling would fade, and once it does, you could be a good friend for him. Except that still didn’t stop him from thinking about you the entire drive home.

That was as far as this town would allow him to get before it made the choice for him.

Words and rumors in this town spread like wildfire, so really this was no different. Whoever was at the bar that night had to of only seen the two of you playing pool and taken it wrong because neither of you were cozied up with each other. Hell, Jeonghan was hanging off him more and being all cozy with him, so one needed to be a dumb mother fucker to confuse his and your height and build. Or so drunk that they wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between their asshole and a hole in the ground.

For Seungcheol, the most he had to face was the wrath of Danni since he didn’t give a single shit what anyone else said in this town. Their opinions didn’t affect how he was treated by them, nor did it effect his business since he wasn’t the actual target. You were.

You were the one who was facing the towns judgement and distrust. All because a drunken fool wanted to run their mouth.

When he saw you again, he couldn’t blame you for the way you acted toward him. Refusing to give him the time of day, walking away from him when all he wanted was to make things right, choosing to protect yourself instead of letting him in. Except he couldn’t deny that it still hurt, to watch you build a wall before he could even find solid ground. So much so it soured his mood for the rest of the day, and it was felt all around.

He didn’t like that this emotion was being pulled out of him because of you as well. He didn’t like that he barely knew you and you already took over his thoughts and emotions.

The next time he saw you was a nearly a week later at the diner. You were working that night, busy with several tables that you hadn’t noticed him coming in. Or the woman at his side, with her hand resting possessively on his bicep as her own eyes looked around, but your back turned when she looked your way. She was making it quite obvious that she was looking for someone.

A sudden uncomfortable feeling started to build inside, a turning in his stomach as it slowly dawned on him what was happening here. Danni had been insistent that they go out that night, have a bit of a date night. Movie and a late night dinner at the diner was what she wanted, and well, he wanted to give it to her.  She was who he had intended to spend his life with, so he wanted to give her anything she wanted.

Except, he started to think that she didn’t actually want to come here for a late dinner date or sit through that shitty movie she chose. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away from you, smiling and laughing with a set of teenagers you were serving, to look toward Danni. Who had caught sight of you… and the empty table in your section.

“There is a free table right there, Cheollie,” The sugary sweet tone she was putting on was aggravating to him, now that he realized the real reason they were there. Danni acted like she didn’t notice as she pulled him to the booth, her grip on his arm tightened.

He almost didn’t go with her, let her drag him to the empty booth, instead wanting to drag her out of the diner. Demand what she was trying to accomplish by bringing him there while you’re working and tell her how childish she was acting when you had made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with him. Except he knew this was a test for him too.

Both her and the people watching them looking for anything to make things worse. And if he failed, you would be the one to blame.

Seungcheol didn’t care what they thought with him, he never did. He did care what judgement they had toward you, without you even knowing what you were being judged further for. Not when all you were doing was trying to find your place in this town that only had a small few welcoming you.

Slipping into the booth, Danni made sure to sit on the side that faced where you were checking on another table, receiving glares instead of a response. A smirk stretched over her pink glossed lips, flipping her long sleek hair over her shoulder before reaching out for him. A gesture that Seungcheol didn’t return, with his jaw still set tight, a frown gracing his features, and crossed arms.

She knew that he was pissed, she knew that he was onto her, but the way her eyes kept flicking over his shoulder told him she didn’t care. She was making a statement, and one that she was not going to like the outcome of.

“Good evening! My name is Y/N, I will be your server tonight.” You spoke up, stopping in front of the table, a bright smile playing over your lips. Except Seungcheol could see that it didn’t meet your eyes, and that you were refusing to look at him more than you needed to. Setting the menus down in front of them both, you pulled out your notepad to take their drink orders, “Should we get started with some drinks while you decide?”

“That would be so lovely!” Danni responded to you with her own smile, only hers was more menacing while she looked you over. Sizing you up from what it looks like, “I’ll take a sweet, iced tea, easy on the ice.” You nodded, writing down it down. Still not looking at him, “What about you Cheollie?”

“I’ll have the root beer, and we can order our meals now. We know what we want,” He said flatly, making you look up at him in surprise. Catching the way his eyes flashed toward Danni, his annoyance nearly palpable among the three of you. “I’ll take the number seven, medium well patty and cheese. I’ll also have the fries instead of the potato salad.”

“Coming right up, and for you Miss?” You nodded, writing down his order quickly and looked to Danni, who had been watching the two of you. Trying to catch you two in some act right in front of her. She was really pissing him off doing this.

“I’ll take number ten, the clam chowder, and could you ask Seokmin to put the oyster crackers in the soup for me instead of on the side? Thank you so much.” She rattled off quickly, almost too quickly and you nearly missed her added request.

“Alright, so I have the number seven with a medium well patty, cheese, and fries instead of the potato salad. Along with a root beer for you.” You repeated calmly, not showing that Danni’s antics was phasing you, barely looking up from your notepad. “And for you the number ten, with the oyster crackers in the soup and not on the side. As well as the sweet, iced tea with easy ice and forgive me, did you want the lemon on the side or in the drink?”

“On the side.” Seungcheol watched with brief satisfaction as Danni’s lip curled in annoyance, her voice not sickening sweet as it was. With another nod, you give both of them a smile.

“I’ll get that put in now and be back with your drinks in a moment.” And with that, you walked away to put in the ticket. Seungcheol didn’t dare look your way, not when he was being watched by others around them. Danni instead was practically breaking her neck to watch you go.

“Ugh, I can’t stand her.” Danni scoffed in disgust, twisting back in her seat and crossing her arms like a brat, the jingle of her bracelets could be heard over the chatter around them. She didn’t seem to notice or care that Seungcheol was staring her down pissed. “Can she be anymore pretentious? Acting like she’s better than me.”

“She was just doing her job, and you don’t even know her,” Seungcheol snapped, making her look at him, her golden brown eyes staring him down. “How many times do I have to tell you that nothing happened? We invited her to play pool and drink with us. You and the rest of this god forsaken town make it seem like we fucked on the pool table.”

“Seungcheol!” She gasped, looking around as if she was making sure no one heard him. “Don’t talk like that. It’s impolite and immature.”

“And what you were just doing wasn’t?” He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice low enough that it stayed between them both. His eyes stared her down, watching the way she shrunk slightly before straightening up. A frown playing over her pretty face.

“Listen, all I am doing is make sure she knows I exist and think next time she even wants to look twice at you,” There was so much conviction in her voice, with an eye roll that would back it up. “Let her know that you got someone prettier, more put together, and doesn’t look like they pulled their clothes out of a dumpster. Not some unwelcomed slut.”

“Danni, that’s enough.” Seungcheol could feel his anger started to get the better of him, his eyes piercing through someone he thought he could fall in love with and have a life with. You didn’t even give him the time of day, and here she was tearing you apart like you both were still making eyes at each other. “You don’t talk about her like that, and you sure as hell won’t call her names. I don’t give a shit what that makes you think of me, but you aren’t going to punish her for no damn reason.”

“Seungcheol…”

“Here is your drinks,” Mingyu spoke up, setting down both glasses along with a straw each, this made the couple look at him in confusion. You were their server, “Y/N needed to go on break, so I will be taking over your table. Your food will be ready soon.”

Seungcheol snapped his face toward Danni, who was fighting the triumphant grin threatening to break through. He sure as hell hoped it was actually your break and not because you heard what she had said. But from the frown on Mingyu’s face, the sickening turn in his stomach, and how you didn’t return as their server once back, that was the case.

It made him unable to eat his meal. Everything feeling so wrong and cruel, and he unable get out of his head the way you wouldn’t look his way at all. 

Seungcheol didn’t say anything to Danni when he dropped her off to her place, not even acknowledging the kiss she pressed against the corner of his mouth. His eyes still forward, with his blood running hot, and his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Failing to not appear as tense as he was.

“Call me later, baby. Goodnight.” Danni called out before closing the door, either oblivious of his anger or she simply did not care. To her, she won that night.

Once he was she got in, Seungcheol put the truck into drive and pressed on the gas. His tires squealed against the asphalt as he u-turned on the quiet street, followed by a roar of his engine as he sped off.

He needed to clear his head. Needed to rethink everything.

The sky darker than usual, rain clouds starting to gather as he sped through the empty roads. Passed the mixture of houses and thick trees, passed the dirt road that lead to his own place, and into the small quiet town. He did no clearing of the mind as he drove, the streets starting to grow dark except for a few streetlights, and the porch lights of the houses in town. It was late, people were sleeping and probably being woken by the sound of his truck.

He didn’t realize he was driving to the diner until he pulled into the near empty parking lot. The only vehicles there were Seokmin’s bright yellow Beetle, Mingyu’s red Suburban, and your black Buick. He could see through the windows the tables empty, which was a strange sight to see when there was normally always someone there eating, and Mingyu animatedly talking to someone as he wiped down tables. Not bothering to look out the window at the approaching truck.

Turning off the headlights, Seungcheol parked his truck at the farthest end of the lot where it was harder to see anything inside. He leaned back into his seat, running his hand through his hair, once styled to look nice now sticking up everywhere, watching the diner. Contemplating on going in to ask to speak to you.

He was friends with Seokmin and Mingyu, knowing both when they were pushing each other in the mud as kids, so he trusted that they wouldn’t say anything. He’d be able to apologize for Danni’s actions, once more ask for your forgiveness. Be able to talk to you and maybe get you to see that he truly didn’t intend for things to get so messed up.

It was like fate though, that before he made the choice to go inside, the back door opened and you emerged. Carrying a large trash bag, laughing loudly as you yelled something back inside, and a genuine smile playing over your lips. Brightening your face in a way that made his mouth to drop in awe, and his heart flutter. Seungcheol craved to be the reason behind it.

“Y/N!” He called out as he got out of the truck and walked toward you, making you nearly jump out of your skin and fling the trash bag toward him. It didn’t land far from you, and Seungcheol stopped short. Both of you looking at the bag in confusion. It was you who recovered first and picked it up.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, making sure that there wasn’t any tears in the bag before tossing it into the dumpster. “Besides trying to scare me to death.”

“I.. sorry about that,” he let out a nervous chuckle, the corner of his lip upturned slightly. “I… I came to talk to you. To apologize…”

“For your girlfriend saying I pull my clothes out of the dumpster? Or that she’s prettier than me? That she’s more well off than I am? That I am some unwelcomed slut?” You finish for him, finally looking his way. Your bright smile dropping to a sardonic one, turning toward him as your arms crossed. “It might be hard to believe, but I actually don’t give a shit what she has to say about me. Or anyone else in this town for that matter.”

“Still, it wasn’t right.”

“So, you are going to make it right, is that what you are going to do?” You let out a laugh, “I don’t need you to do that, because it’s not your place to make it right.” You hold your hand up to stop him from saying anything. Seungcheol had opened his mouth to argue back but stopped so easily for you. “Just leave it be, Cheol. It sucks, yeah, but sometimes words can only go so deep. And if you only knew, you would understand what I mean by that.”

“Please, I know I can make this right.”

“By what?” There is a sudden waver in your voice, a hitch in your throat. You held onto your smile, though he had achingly watched it change from one that could brightened his day, to a sad one that you were wearing now. “By apologizing for her and the town? To get me to look at you again? I am no one, Seungcheol. Just a lost soul who is trying to find their way in life again.”

The back door then opened to Seokmin, looking out for you with concern. That concern didn’t ease when he saw Seungcheol standing there either.

“Maybe, in another lifetime, things would have worked out differently,” You tell him, walking away before he could reach to stop you. Stopping at the door where Seokmin was still standing, you gave Seungcheol one last smile. Bright, and beautiful but oh so terribly sad. “If you want to make things right, then do it by letting it all go.”

Then you were gone.

**May**

The little town of Diamond Ridge was a mixture of beautiful clear weather and rainy days from April through May. The rain making the surrounding trees and plant life flourish, with everything greener, brighter, and nourished. It made you not regret stopping here after a long drive with your cat, nor regret walking into the diner to ask Mingyu if he knew anywhere you could rent.

So much so that you found yourself going out more no matter what the weather was. Taking trips to the market, visiting the library, explore the trails behind the diner, and stroll through the small park in town. The stares had died down, with only a few still doing it, helping to ease the anxiety you felt. You may not give a shit what these people thought or said, but you sure as hell didn’t like being stared at like you were.

“The Outsiders, huh?” A voice asked next to you while you were looking over the movie box, considered renting it. You found yourself at a small movie rental shop near Cheers and had been browsing the movie selections when the voice had approached.

Looking in his direction, you were met with a younger man standing next to you, his brown eyes looking down at the movie in your hand. He was tall, with high cheek bones that were emphasized by the grey beanie that he was wearing, and his outfit was just a simple pair of jeans with a black t-shirt. Around those eyes were some of the prettiest lashes and eyebrows you had ever seen on anyone, and had to tell yourself to not be jealous, though you really were.

“Ye…yeah… it’s one of my favorites.” You started to stutter out but managed to find your voice, handing over the movie without thinking. Letting the stranger take it from you, to look over the covering. “Was just trying to decide if I wanted to watch it again. If you want to rent it, go ahead, I seen it plenty of times.”

“While I appreciate that, I actually work here and I have a copy of my own.” He let out a soft chuckle, but still flipping the box cover around to read the back.

“Oh,” You answer, feeling your face grow warm with embarrassment.

“You have good taste,” He commented nodding, handing it back to you with a smile, “I’m Vernon.”

“Y/N…” You respond, taking the movie back and braced yourself for the same reaction you always got. Except all Vernon did was nod and repeat it out loud.

“You’re the one who moved into the apartment above the diner, right?” He then asked, and you nodded. “Gotta admit, I’m pretty jealous. That place is such a good spot. Spacious, right above the diner and don’t even need to cook if you don’t want to. And you work there, so that’s even better, don’t have to waste the gas.”

“It can be, but the downfall is that if I want to call out, I have Mingyu at my door. Either calling my bluff or trying to force feed me soup. He told me that when he agreed to give me the place and the job.” You point out, and Vernon chuckled again. He had a nice laugh, and he didn’t look at you like everyone else did. It reminded you a bit of Seungcheol, since he didn’t look at you like an outcast either.

“Yeah, I can believe it. He’s always been that way.”

“Everyone really seems to know each other here.” You mumble, more to yourself but he had heard you.

“Well, we all grew up together, and it’s not every day we get someone new moving here. I think the last people to move here was my friend Josh and his mom when we were teens.” Vernon then pointed toward the movie, “You ready to check out? I can get you hooked up with the employee rental discount… and my number if you want.”

“I would like that.”

“Sweet.”

Vernon was great. He was easy going, loved a good movie or a good album, polite, gorgeous, and most of all, single. It was nice to have someone other than Mingyu and Seokmin to talk to, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than Vernon.

He also liked you. Taking you out or coming by with a stack of movies to binge. He listened to you when you talked, didn’t care or believed the rumors that were started over you. Stating that he didn’t see you the way they painted you and knew Seungcheol wasn’t that kind of guy. Giving you empathy when others didn’t.

Vernon also knew that you liked him, but not that way. He knew that you wanted to, even sharing a few heated kisses during a few hang outs, but something was holding you back. Except that it wasn’t something, it was someone. Someone you couldn’t have or think about.

Vernon was great, but he wasn’t Seungcheol.

You hated that you were still thinking about him after everything. That you were still thinking about how, besides Mingyu and Seokmin, Seungcheol was the first to welcome you to this town. You hated that you wanted to be back in the cross path of his kind eyes, be the reason for a smile over his lips, and be close to him the same way you were that night at the bar. It didn’t matter that the rumors and gossip ruined it, you still found yourself wanting to go back again.

But you couldn’t. Seungcheol and you were not meant to be. He was taken, he had someone already in his life, and you were left wishing that it was all different. Stupid on your part really, to wish that you could go back so that you can explore that what if in your head, when the results would be the same. Maybe they would be even worse, because no matter what. He was spoken for and you’d be what the town thought.

“Movie night this Friday?” Vernon asked through the receiver, “We just got this new movie in, The Little Rascals. I actually saw it in theaters. It’s a pretty cute film.”

“That movie should work, be a lot better than the movie from the other night,” You nodded as if the younger man could see you through the phone. One hand holding the thick white plastic house phone, while the other gently scratched the top of Max’s head. His chubby tabby body curled up next to you, purring softly as your scratches lulled him into a sleep.

“Listen, I thought since you liked Pretty in Pink and The Breakfast Club that you would like St. Elmo’s Fire. It had the brat pack!” Vernon defended his movie choice, making you both start to laugh.

“I mean the movie wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t good either.” You pointed out, before sighing, “I’m gonna let you go. It’s my day off and I haven’t done shit on my to do list because you’re distracting me.”

“I will not take responsibility for your bad choices, Y/N.” He quipped.

“We literally been on the phone for the last two hours, and if I am not mistaken, you’re working.”

“I don’t see how that’s important here, because unlike you, I been productive. I put a movie away.” The two of you burst into laughter at this, then he gasps, “Oh shit, before I let you go. Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Cheol officially ended things with Danni. I think it happened last week after not talking to her for like… I don’t know, I just know that they aren’t a thing anymore.” Vernon chattered off, and your brows seemed to furrow. Why was he telling you this?

“Uh, no. I haven’t,” You said slowly, before a familiar uncomfortable feeling started to bubble inside. “I’m not being blamed for it this time, am I?”

“Cheol finally realized that she was a bitch and a terrible person, and him settling down with her wouldn’t change that.” You could picture Vernon shrugging before he spoke again. “And uh.. yeah you’re kind of to be blamed too.” You went to protest before he cut you off, “But… just hear him out. Don’t close the door.”

“What…” Lightening flashed through the sky as a click could be heard on the other end of the line. You stared at the phone with pure confusion, Max tossing his head back to get you to start petting him again. “Weirdo.”

The knock came about twenty minutes later, when you had put a load of clothes into the old washer that came with the place. You weren’t expecting anyone, not that anyone would come see you, and Mingyu would call you if he needed something. Respecting your space by not being an overbearing landlord. Not to mention, the rain was now coming down like sheets, so whoever was out there had to be insane.

What Vernon said before hanging up made sense when you opened the door, because standing before you was Seungcheol. His blond hair wet from the pouring rain, sticking to his forehead as he stood there. His white button up sticking to his frame with a few buttons undone down to his chest, and blue jeans darkened. Droplets sliding down his handsome features, his gaze fixated on you.

Soft, worried, scared, but hopeful. It made your heart stutter and your breath catch in your throat.

“I been standing out here for the last twenty minutes trying to get the courage to knock,” He yelled so that the rain didn’t drown his words out. You could only stare at him with wide eyes, words escaping you. “From the moment I saw you, there was something about you that I couldn’t get out of my head, and I didn’t know what that meant. Until the night at the bar, when we played pool…” He took a breath before continuing, taking your silence as a chance to say what he wanted to say. “I am still so sorry about what happened after, and this sounds so fucked up, but I wish nothing more for that rumor to have been true… I wanted to kiss you at your car that night, I wanted to hear that little sound from the pool table again. Over and over.

You moving into town made me realize that I was settling with Danni. Thought she was going to be enough, but how could she be when you were the only thing on my mind? You take over my every waking thought, and you invade my dreams at night.” Your mind was buzzing as he continued to speak, unable to move or speak. “I have no idea what the future holds, but I knew that I would regret every day if I married her when I didn’t love her. I would regret not finding out what could have been with you…”

You didn’t let him continue, stepping out onto the patio to join him in the rain. Cupping his cheeks to pull his face to yours. The moment that your lips met, it was like the cold spring rain warmed, and every part of you was coming to life. His full lips felt slightly chapped, but still soft and even better than you had imagined.

Seungcheol didn’t react for a moment, taken off guard at your sudden action, before his body physically relaxed and returned your kiss. His arms slipped around your waist, pulling you flushed against his frame, his muscles firm under the soaked material and softness of his skin. He felt hot under your touch, running the tip of his tongue over the bottom of your lip, begging for more of you. Which you welcomed, now that you have finally tasted him, desperate for more.

He took over your every sense, after weeks of fighting the yearning feeling for him you let it win. Shattering the moment his tongue met yours, and all you could think about was him, Seungcheol. You needed him to keep touching you, needing to make up for the weeks of thinking about that small moment. To find out what this all meant. You knew you couldn’t stop as his own kiss grew desperate too.

Seungcheol needed this as much as you did. Maybe more, but there was no point in trying to play who needed it more. The point was that you both needed this, you both couldn’t keep pretending.

Slowly moving his hands from your waist, running them over the curve of your ass before grasping at your thighs to pull you up. You let out a soft gasp into his mouth when he lifted you, hooking your arms around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist to brace yourself. His thick hands having a firm hold on you, letting your own hold around his neck loosen to push your fingers through his short hair. The strands still soaked from the rain, while you were no better off. Your own hair wet, sticking to your skin, and your clothes already soaked themselves.

Neither of you gave a shit though.

You couldn’t pull away from his mouth, not caring the need to breathe, so you didn’t notice that he had carried you back inside. You barely registered that you were no longer being pelted with rain in your make out and now in the warmth of your apartment. Nothing around you mattered except Seungcheol.

“No… no…” You gasped out the words when he pulled away, though your lung thanked the sudden rush of air to them. Both your lips were red, swollen, and wet from your kiss.

When he looked at you, it was with different eyes. Lids heavy, pupils blown out giving way to darkened swirls. The emotions that were etched in them earlier gone and replaced was a deep desire. A want that sent a fire through your body and settling in your core.

“Y/N…” If the way he was looking at you didn’t do you in, it was the way his voice came out in a deep rasp, heavy breaths to find the air you took from his lungs. You surged forward, crashing your lips against his as your fingers clung to his hair. Unable to hold back from kissing him again.

“Please…” You whispered against his lips, hoping that a simple sentence would tell him everything you were feeling in those moments. Everything you had been feeling over the weeks.

He was the key to turn you back on, the light at the end of a dark tunnel, and now that you had him. You weren’t going to let him go anytime soon.

You needed him. And you knew he needed you.

“Where’s your bed?” It was his only response, and every part of you now burning with need. The water on your skin drying from the heat of your skin.

You allowed him to pull away enough to watch where you gestured toward the full on the opposite end of the apartment. The dark bedding still a mess from when you woke that morning, not thinking about making it. His gaze followed your hand before nodding, taking long strides to your bed. While you took the liberties to kiss down his jaw to his neck, nipping gently at the skin before soothing it with a kiss.

Before you knew it, you felt your back hit the mattress as he laid you down, the weight of his body pressing down on you. Centering while the hard bulge in his pants threw you off kilter. Your patience growing thinner, ready to snap if you didn’t get to have more of him, but he was feeling the same.

First thing off was the wet button up of his, with you watching the way it peeled off his muscular frame. Letting you see those strong arms and shoulders of his, leading to thick pecks and a firm stomach. You caught the sight of a light trail of hair from his belly button leading under the waistband of his jeans. He only took off his shirt, and you were already clenching around nothing.

Next off was the green tank top you were wearing, peeling off the damp fabric to reveal what he was suspecting. You weren’t wearing a bra, making Seungcheol stop since he couldn’t tear his gaze from the swells and nipples hardened into peaks. Taking in the way they moved under your labored breath.

He kissed you again. This time slower, gentler, and nothing like how it was few minutes earlier. His lips molding against yours so well, already memorizing how you liked to be kissed; with his tongue sweeping over yours. You were on him, tracing up his back and felt the muscles from years of hard labor.

Moving his plush lips from yours to kiss over your jaw and neck. Planting slow open mouthed kisses across your skin, letting his tongue taste the salt on your skin while soothing any bites he delivered. A small whimper accompanied your rushed breathing, nails now running across his shoulders through his descent.

Seungcheol made sure to kiss over your collarbone, leaving reminders of him at the curve where it met your neck. Your back then arched when a rough calloused hand cupped one of your breasts, the pad of his thumb brushing over the bud as his mouth found the other.

“Fuck…” You whimpered at the contact, your thighs squeezing and hips rolling against his. A groan escaped him as he sucked and teased one breast while his hand made sure the other had attention before switching. Your own hands moving from his back to his hair once more.

Seungcheol snaked his free hand down to the button of your jean shorts, undoing it before pulling the zipper down. Just to free from slipping into them, under your underwear, and detached his mouth from your nipple now wet from his saliva, to look at you.

“Are you sure? We can wait…” He spoke softly, searching your eyes for any hesitation but you were never surer than you were then.

“I’m tired of waiting…Please Cheol…”

It was all he needed to hear, mouth finding yours while his hand slipped into your shorts and underwear. His finger brushed against your soaked folds, earning moans from you both. You completely surrendered to him.

His hands teased you as he left more reminds on your skin, the aching spots feeling like heaven, with the way his lips attempted to memorize the softness of your skin and the curves of your body. Your shorts and underwear were discarded soon after, legs spread open by his shoulders, leaving you naked and bare for him.

You thought you saw stars when his mouth attached itself to your cunt, his eyes rolling at the first taste of you and hooked your legs over his shoulders. His arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you there, not holding back. Licking and eating you as if starved, his tongue learning every inch of you as he drank the arousal that was dropping from you. When he slipped a thick finger inside, the groan that left him vibrated through your body. Feeling your gummy walls grip at his finger tightly, making him rut into your mattress. The springs squeaking under the roll of his hips.

“You’re so perfect,” You heard him say, muffled because he couldn’t tear himself away to speak properly. Growing addicted to the way you tasted, felt, and the little sounds leaving you. Better than the one from that night.

Adding another finger, he curved them just right, making you shatter. Your whole body vibrating as his name echoed from your lips, a chant as he drank all you gave. His lips and chin glistening with you when he finally pulled away, looking up with a fucked out face that rivaled yours. The sound of the bed moving from his ruts met your ringing ears, making you think about how hard he had to be. Making you clench around his fingers, bringing a smirk to those shiny lips.

“You still want more?” He asked teasingly, moving the digits inside you at a slower pace, unable to stop himself from latching onto your clit again. His eyes looking at you from between your legs, drunk on you. The time it felt like he was prepping you, stretching your tightness to accommodate him.

You both knew where this was heading, and neither of you wanted to stop.

Seungcheol drew another orgasm from you before finally moving the last of his clothes, the sound of soft fabric hitting the floor. Leaving him standing there in front of you, completely bare and on display for you. His thick cock hard, precum leaking and smeared over his tip. It looked bigger than it felt in his pants, and you couldn’t stop from salivating at the sight.

You needed it in you.

When he joined you on the bed once more, going slow with his movement and watched for any signs of you backing out. He wanted to make sure because he knew he would never want to be without you again. Only there was no signs of doubt, your eyes heavy with need and want, especially because of the sureness in his.

Settling back between your legs, his cock brushed against your cunt, collecting your arousal against the underside of it. It made you both shutter, with you grinding your hips for more. With one hand braced next to your head, Seungcheol planted a lingering kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself while his other slipped between you.

Grasping his cock to line himself up with you.

“Ready?” He rasped out, pressing his forehead against yours while his other head pressed against your entrance. You nod quickly, wrapping yourself around him. Completely his. “Look at me.”

You didn’t know you closed your eyes until you opened them, both of you watching the other’s reaction when he pushed in. The stretch made your mouth fall open with a high pitch gasp while a string of curses left his. Your walls gripped at him when he thrusted forward, filling you to the hilt.

“Cheol…” You managed to get out, your body shaking as you got used to his size, feeling bigger now that he was in you.

“Yes, baby?” He grunted out, every part of him stopping himself from fucking you like he wanted. It was hard since you squeezed him so snuggly, wrapping around him like you were made for him.

“Fuck me..” It was all he needed to hear, pulling his cock halfway before thrusting back into you. Unleashing something inside both of you, your wanton cries echoed against the walls of the apartment, mixing with the sounds of his own moans and the slapping of skin against skin.

Your nails racked down his back, trying to meet his every thrust but couldn’t with how you were spread out. Leaving you to his mercy and the build that was starting to grow again with every drag of his cock against your walls. Close to a third release.

Seungcheol’s mouth was all over you, over the column of your neck, to your shoulders, to your breasts. Causing your back to arched when he took a nipple into his mouth, one hand holding onto the fatty flesh with the other found purchase between your legs. His fingertips brushing where you two met, feeling the slickness of your arousal and his precum mixed, before finding your clit.

He was not going to be able to hold out much longer, not with the way you were covering him and gripping at him like a vice. But he refused to until he drew a third orgasm from you. He needed it before his own release.

“Cheol…” You cried out, your hands reaching to grab anything to anchor you as the knot in your core started to snap. His hair, your own hair, the bedding, your breasts, his biceps, nails leaving red scratches over his body where you grabbed and scratched at him.

“Cum for me, Y/N… I’m not far off…” He groaned out, keeping his gaze on you, his cock and fingers helping you let go.

His own released chased after yours, unable to hold out from the way you spasmed and squeezed around him, making it impossible to pull out, or want to. Releasing ropes of his cum inside your inner walls, Seungcheol buried his face into his neck as he did. Groaning and whimpering as he filled you.

Leaving you full of him after he finally pulls out.

Both of you refused to let go of the other or separated until you couldn’t stay connected any longer.

“Do you want to know why I moved her?” You asked, your fingertips tracing the olive tree tattoo on his back, making him turn his head in your direction.

“If you want to tell me.” He said softly, his eyes slowly opening to look at you, the sound of your voice, the soft tracing of your fingers. and the pattering rain outside lulling him into a light doze.

“My mom died last summer,” You started, pain lacing through your words, but you didn’t stop, “Then my old landlord decided to evict me by changing the locks and locking me out of my own apartment. I ended up having to break in to get Max and anything I could carry and put in my car. Then I left, drove until I came upon this town and the diner,” You took a deep breath, swallowing the tears that wanted to fall, “Max couldn’t be in that small carrier much longer, while I was just tired and starving. Neither of us could keep going like that, so I took my chances by asking Mingyu for a job and where I can find a place to live.”

Seungcheol rolled over, so he was now on his back before he reached for you. Pulling you into his arms and let you rest your head against his chest, feeling a stray tear hit his chest.

“I’m sorry about your mom.” He said softly, pressing his lips against the top of your head. Your own arms now tight around his waist. Holding onto him like he was your anchor to this world. “This town probably didn’t help though.”

“Words are nothing,” You say, turning your head to look at him, only to see he was watching you. His hair sticking up in different directions from your hands, lips well kissed, and so fucking beautiful. “I’ve head worse over the years from a bunch of assholes in the scene I was in. I could have let them take me down, let them hinder me trying to move on, let them break me, but my mom taught me better than that. Only words and opinions that should matter are my own.”

“So, you don’t regret moving here?” He asked, and you smile.

“No, in fact, you make me want to stay more. Be able to call this place home.” With that, you adjusted yourself to kiss him. One that he returned eagerly.

Thank you for reading!! I do hope you enjoyed and I hope I did our Coupsie justice.

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to kno I am doing well!

Please also go show love to the rest of the fics of this collabs when they are posted!

Now, Seokjin isn’t a bad teacher, not at all; he’s incredibly smart in his subject, and all of his students tend to pass. All except you. It’s nothing against Seokjin, you think he’s a brilliant teacher, and you love attending his classes.

The problem is that he’s too fucking attractive. You spend more time ogling his handsome features and broad shoulders than paying attention to the topic; fantasising about how it’d feel to have your legs hooked over them as he pounds harshly in–

You’re snapped from yet another daydream staring Kim Seokjin, by the man himself as he calls your name firmly. You can’t clear your mind of the aroused fog it’s in fast enough to even attempt to give him a sheepish smile, embarrassed about once again getting caught with your head in the clouds during his class. “Can you at least pretend to pay attention for once?” he scolds, giving you a stern, disapproving look.

“Sorry,” you mumble, tongue flicking out to wet your suddenly dry lips. You could swear that Seokjin’s eyes follow the movement of your tongue as it peeks out. But can your horny mind be trusted to see things correctly right now? Not really.

“Hm, right; you say that every time,” he returns, scoffing in disbelief as he puts his hands on his hips. “Stay after class,” he demands, and you can only nod meekly; his dominant aura making your thighs clench. The sign of agreement satisfies Seokjin enough to allow him to return to his teaching, believing that he has your attention, at least for the remaining twenty minutes of class. Oh, how wrong he is.

The moment that Seokjin’s attention is back on everyone but you, your mind is already slipping back into your fantasies, his demand for you to stay behind only fuelling your dirty thoughts. Seokjin is known throughout the university for letting his students out of class early, he never asks anyone to stay behind. He isn’t much older than the majority of the students, so he remembers how tough university was, and he doesn’t want to give anyone extra stress by being forced to stay after class. So, the fact he’s told you to stay behind, well, you think you can be forgiven for letting your mind run away with that thought.

If only he knew the images of him you hold in your mind, he certainly wouldn’t want to encourage it by keeping you behind. What teacher would?

Only minutes after returning to his lecture, Seokjin’s eyes happen to glance over to you, and he can’t help but sigh as he spots the glassed-over look in your eyes, telling him that you’re already away with the fairies.

He hasn’t the faintest idea why you struggle to pay attention in his class. He worries that he bores you, so he’s tried to move around the room more; has brought in more hands-on activities to keep you, in particular, focused.

You’re the only student failing his class and he doesn’t understand why. He’s paid you so much attention, left you notes with tips on studying and websites for extra information. During class, without fail, he always places a copy of the lessons notes— his personal notes— on your desk in front of you; but you either ignore them entirely or push them into your bag mindlessly at the end of class with your own papers without even looking at them. He always sees masses of paper sticking out of your notebook every class, but they never seem to move.

He can’t help but wonder if you even look at the worksheets he’s spent so long making specifically for you. He even had a friend teach him how to draw the characters he’s seen on your clothing and accessories, so that he can doodle them onto the worksheets in hopes of catching your interest. But the worksheets never move, and your grades are getting worse.

To make matters worse, Seokjin knows that you pay attention in literally every class you take and never fail any assignments for any but his. One day, he had searched up your class schedule on the university system and stood outside various classroom doors to peer through the window and watch you, just to see if you have the same issue of losing focus in other classes. You never do.

Seokjin takes your failing and absent mind personally, as if it’s something he’s done to warrant such a response, and he wants to get to the bottom of it. No way will he allow such a capable student to fail yet another term of his class.

Unlike every other day, you don’t come out of the fantasies when Seokjin dismisses class, making your fellow students get up and scramble to leave. The class is already a late one, finishing at 6pm, so all of the students are eager to get out of the university and go about their personal lives.

Seokjin watches you curiously from where he’s leaning against the edge of his desk. Even as other students leave, bigging him goodbye and wishes of a good evening, his eyes don’t leave you despite his mouth moving to return the well wishes.

For a further five minutes after everyone has left, he continues to silently watch you in curious wonder. Though, realising that you’re too deep in your mind to notice that the room is empty other than the two of you, he pushes his body off the furniture to stalk over and stand in front of your desk. For the first time, your eyes follow his movement, yet they’re still glassy, and he knows your mind isn’t with him, even if your sight is.

As he leans down to grip either side of your desk to be closer to eye level with you, he suddenly realises just how pretty you are.

Of course, Seokjin isn’t blind, he can tell when a student is attractive, but that’s it; his mind registers an attractive student in an abstract, off handed kind of way, and that’s where it stops. Despite student-teacher relationships in the university not being against the rules exactly— therefore, not a fireable offense—, they’re still greatly frowned upon. Seokjin knows this, so he’s never once even considered a student in any way but as a student; someone to teach and guide academically.

But standing over you like this; your eyes wide and glossy as you stare up at him, cheeks flushed, and lips parted; for the first time, Seokjin’s mind wanders. He can’t help but think how pretty you’d look spread out by his hands under his body, utterly fucked out.

Before the thought can progress into a fantasy, he shakes his head softly and clears his throat— it’s suddenly too dry considering he had gulped down the contents of his water bottle at the end of class.

The sudden noise breaks you out of your fantasies with a little jolt. Blinking rapidly, your gaze comes back into focus. “Oh,” you breathe out, finding Seokjin so close to you, causing excitement to crawl through your body. You’ve never been so close to the man, and he only looks even more delectable the closer you get. “Mr. Kim.”

He says your name in response, once again clearing his throat when his voice cracks on the syllables. “Are you finished with your daydreaming now?” You suck your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod shyly, embarrassed as per usual about being called out. Without even having the chance to try to stop it from happening, Seokjin’s gaze drops down to eye your mouth, in a way far too obvious to miss.

You watch his throat bob heavily as he swallows thickly while watching your lip slowly slip out from the light grasp of your teeth. “Sir?” you question softly. Your voice sounds so innocent, barely a whisper, and it sends Seokjin’s mind whirling.

Oh, how he’d love to fucking wreck you; hear his name tumble so sweetly from those pretty lips of yours.

“Go home,” he suddenly says when he realises how his mind is running away with his filthy thoughts. He drops his head down so that he doesn’t have to look at you; he fears he’ll lose all sanity if he looks at you a moment longer.

“Sir?” you repeat, more bewildered this time. After all, he told you to stay behind, and now he’s telling you to leave. What’s his problem?

Seokjin’s mental strength slips a little further out of his grasp. Why do you have to keep calling him that in that innocent voice? You’re pretty much begging him to bend you over that very desk and have his way with you. He can’t handle that and needs you to stop before he truly loses his mind.

If only he knew you’ve imagined that very scenario many times already.

“Why are you calling me that?” he groans, almost whining.

“What? Sir?” He nods, and you tilt your head, confused eyes glaring into the top of his head. “Because…you’re my teacher,” you answer simply.

“And?!” he snaps, lifting his head to stare at you with wild eyes that dance madly over your features. The crazed expression makes you jolt a little in shock; he genuinely looks seconds away from losing his mind. “You shouldn’t call men things like that so easily!” he lectures. “Don’t you understand what it does to a man when a woman like you calls him such a thing?” Seokjin doesn’t know why he’s being so blunt, so open and honest with you, but he simply can’t stop himself.

“A woman like me?” you question, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You look down at your seated form with a little frown. “What’s wrong with me?”

All at once, Seokjin’s body cools down instead of burning up, and he calms dramatically. “What? Nothing is wrong with you. Why would you think anything is wrong with you?” he questions in an utterly bewildered murmur.

“You said a woman like me shouldn’t say those things,” you explain with your eyes glued to your fingers as you fiddle with the hem of your hoodie, thinking about what could be so wrong with you; maybe you could dress better; maybe you could make more of an effort. The thought makes you shrink dejectedly. A guy like Seokjin could never find a woman like you appealing.

“And that made you think something is wrong with you?” You don’t respond, you don’t need to. Your answer is obvious by the way you’ve curled in on yourself; an attempt to make yourself smaller, less visible. Seokjin says your name gently, gingerly reaching out to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger, though you turn your head away out of his touch to prevent him from tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Look at me,” he demands firmly.

Just like that, you stop pulling away and allow him to direct your line of sight to his face. You submit so easily to him, and it makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Don’t you ever think that something is wrong with you,” he says, voice so soft and soothing, so honest, full of unspoken meaning, that your heart thrums and your cheeks speckle with a pretty blush. “You’re beautiful.” His gaze dances over your features, taking his time to memorise every little freckle, every little imperfection for when he’s home alone and needs to remember how your face alone has sent heat tingling through his body. “So beautiful.”

How has he gone through so many months already with you in his class without truly noticing your beauty? He doesn’t know, but he knows he’ll never stop noticing now.

“Sir…” you gasp at his words; never could you have expected the living definition of beautiful to utter such words to you. You can tell he means them too.

“I told you not to call me that,” he reminds, eyes turning stern again as they lock with your own.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why I can’t,” you reason, lips pouting in confusion. He has to fight the urge to pounce forward and suck your bottom lip between his own.

“How can such a beautiful woman be so clueless about the effect you have on men?” He chuckles softly and then backs up in fear that he won’t be able to take his hand from your face if he hovers a minute longer. Your head tilts in confusion, and eyebrows furrow. “I think it’s best you go home now,” he declares, turning on his heel and returning to his desk, where he has a stack of papers from another class that he needs to mark before he can go home.

“Not until you tell me why I can’t call you sir,” you argue, voice surprisingly firm.

As Seokjin sits in his chair, he looks up at you with raised eyebrows, finding you still sitting at your desk, stubbornly refusing to pack up your belongings to leave. “Go.”

“No.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch in amusement. You’re being so unbelievably stubborn for someone who was so quick to obey his words only minutes before.

“I’m not moving, Sir.”

Seokjin’s smile drops, and he sighs heavily. “Fine, but you’re not getting an answer. Sit there all night for all I care; I have papers to grade.” With that, he gets to work, picking up his trusty marking pen, and bending over the first assignment in the stack.

Yet knowing that you’re sitting there, only metres away, he can’t focus.

A groan of frustration leaves his throat, and he rubs his neck as he fights the urge to look up at you. He can feel your gaze locked on him, and it kind of irks him; you’re suddenly paying him so much attention at the one time he wants none of it.

“Stop staring,” he mutters, easily loud enough for you hear in the otherwise silent room, while he tries to reread the student’s answer for the fifth time. He still can’t make sense of it though; his mind is entirely stuck on you.

“I don’t want to, Sir.”

He knows you’re doing it just to wind him up. You want your answer and intend to play up until you get it. You’re being a little brat, and he kind of loves it.

“You don’t want to push me, little one,” he warns, glancing up at you over his glasses, giving you such a dark look that you visibly shiver. Fuck, you like it. The realisation forces him to put his hand under the desk to try to resituate the growing problem in his pants into less of an annoyance. “Are you going to be a good girl and go home?” he tries.

“I’ll leave when you tell me why I can’t call you sir, Sir,” you retort. And it makes him give up with marking, with restraining himself.

Seokjin leans back in his chair while tossing his pen onto the desk carelessly. “Get over here,” he orders. His cock twitches at the enthusiastic speed you scramble out of your chair to rush over and stand on the opposite site of the desk to him. “No, little one, here,” he corrects, motioning to his side.

You’re a little hesitant at first but obediently shuffle around the desk to stand beside his chair. “Yes, Sir?” you ask, wanting another order so desperately.

“Hands on the desk.” You tilt your head questioningly. “Be a good girl.” You nod and turn to place both palms flat on the desk so that you’re facing out over the empty room. “Hmm, lean over.” You do, leaning further over the desk, meaning your ass sticks out, and Seokjin watches closely, appreciating the way your little shorts cling to your backside. “Stay like that until I tell you to move. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Seokjin smiles in approval and pushes his chair back, grinning when you don’t even try to look over your shoulder and see what he’s doing. You listen so well; it makes him so fucking hard.

Seokjin wheels his chair until he’s directly behind you, then adjusts the height until he’s sitting eye level with your ass. “You’ve been bad, you know this, don’t you, little one?” he hums, hands resting on his spread thighs, but fingers twitching with the urge to touch the expanse of your exposed thighs.

“I have?” you question in wonder, truly not aware of what he’s referring to.

“Yes, little one,” he confirms.

“Oh… When, Sir?”

“That is the most recent behaviour; refusing to listen when I told you to stop.” You remain quiet. “Will you admit to that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And yet you still say it?”

“You haven’t explained, Sir.”

Seokjin chuckles lowly; you sure are stubborn for a submissive woman. “You never pay attention in my class,” he continues, allowing his fingers some relief by dancing them along the outside of your thighs directly above your knees, but only an inch or so before returning downwards and mindlessly stroking at your outer knees.

“I don’t mean to daydream, Sir.”

“You pay attention in every other class; I’ve checked up on you.”

That surprises you and makes you pause momentarily. “…You have?”

“Mmhmm, I had to see if it’s just your natural behaviour, or if you hate my class that much.”

“I don’t hate your class,” you argue, voice full of such honesty that Seokjin’s hands stop absently moving against your soft skin.

“You don’t?”

“No; I think you’re a brilliant teacher.”

“Then why are you failing?”

You don’t respond, not wanting to tell him the truth, too embarrassed. Though, as soon as his hands leave you with the intention of relocating his chair, you speak up quickly, not wanting him to move away. “I have trouble concentrating in your class. I try hard, but I can’t. I…have too many fantasies, Sir,” you confess, still a bit embarrassed but also feeling paradoxically shameless. At this point, you’ll confess to anything as long as he keeps touching you.

“Fantasies?” he encourages, voice low as his hands return to your legs. Seokjin never expected you to say that you fantasise throughout his class, and his heart pounds with the hope that he stars in them. It’s only logical to assume that you think about him, after all, it’s only his class that you daydream in.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What about?” You whine softly in response, clearly in no rush to answer, though it quickly turns into a yelp when his palm suddenly connects with your inner thigh. “Oh, shit! Sorry, sorry, I–” he tries to apologise, panicking over his own actions. He had reacted instinctively, wanting to put you in your place; a place you don’t even have being his student, but fuck does he wish you did.

“You! I fantasise about you!” you blurt out the confession, the breathless tone telling him that maybe, you like the situation as much as he does, and you’re far from opposed to the little slap on your thigh. “Sir,” you add on almost as an afterthought, though it doesn’t sound bratty anymore, more like you know that he likes hearing it; that you’ve finally figured it out.

“Fuck,” he curses, fingers digging into your flesh slightly as he grips you as if testing you, testing that the situation is real. “Me? You fantasise about me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Doing what? What am I doing?”

“Me.” If you weren’t already driving him crazy, he would’ve laughed at your simple answer, but it only fuels his arousal. Seokjin groans softly, dropping his head forward to press his face into your lower back. You gasp softly in surprise, but don’t argue or react otherwise.

“You’ve been failing my class because you’ve been fantasising about me fucking you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Fuck!” he repeats, suddenly getting up, kicking his chair aside out of the way. “This is why you can’t call me sir.” For a split second, you’re confused, that is until his hips are pressed against your ass and you can feel his hard length against you. A shuddering, excited breath shakes your chest as you inhale. “You fantasised about feeling this, huh? My cock in you, little one?”

“Y–yes. Fuck, yes, Sir,” you’re almost slurring, mind spinning as you push your hips back to grind against his erection.

“Oh, shit, don’t,” he warns, but his large hands holding your hips tight say the opposite thing to his words. “S–stop.” You don’t.

“Why, Sir?”

“Because I’m your teacher.”

“Then teach me how to make you cum, Sir.”

The innocent tone you use, matched with the dirty words, sends a shudder through his body. “Oh, fuck.” Seokjin’s hands grip you tighter, pulling you back as he rolls his hips against you. “What’s your biggest fantasy? How do you imagine me fucking you the most?”

“On your desk, Sir.”

“Yeah?” You hum in confirmation, head bobbing along too. “Like this?” Seokjin grinds his hips forward, mimicking how he would fuck you. You suck in a shark breath, thighs shaking with arousal. You’re certain your underwear are soaked through and your shorts growing damp; you’re so fucking wet for him.

“Like this.” You move forward to press your hips against the edge of the desk, widening your stance while leaning down onto your elbows around the papers, making your back curve and thrust your ass further out.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Seokjin groans at the sight of you; his wide, lust blown eyes raking over your figure greedily. The angle of your hips, and that they’re no longer pressed against him, exposes the growing damp patch between your thighs to his hungry gaze. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are already.” He moves one hand to press his fingers to the patch, making you whine needily and press back against him. “You want me bad, huh, little one?”

“Yes, so fucking bad,” you mumble shamelessly. “Please fuck me, Sir.”

Seokjin freezes: he never expected you to beg for it, yet here you are, proving to be the perfect fuck. “You asked so nicely, how can I say no?”

Your thighs shake with excitement, knowing that you’re finally getting to live out your fantasy; something you truly never thought would happen.

“Strip,” he orders as he steps back away from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. You don’t hesitate to respond, straightening up to remove your hoodie and toss it carelessly to the floor. “Wait,” Seokjin says, and you fall still. Suddenly, his hands are on your waist, lips coming down to trace an invisible line along the side of your neck and across our shoulder. “Do you always wear hoodies without anything underneath?” he asks, hands sliding around over your bare stomach to reach up and cup both of your exposed breasts in his warm hands.

“Yeah.”

“Well, fuck; I’m never going to be able to focus on class now I know that.”

“Sometimes, I don’t wear panties either,” you tease with a smirk on your lips.

Seokjin groans against your skin as he grinds his still covered cock against your ass. “Are you today?”

“Yes.”

“Next time, don’t.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As soon as he steps back, you lift your hands to your hips to hook your fingers under the waistband of both your shorts and underwear and slide them together down your legs to pool by your feet, then kick aside.

“I should’ve told you to stay behind sooner,” Seokjin says with a breathless chuckle as he admires the sight of your fully naked back. “Turn, let me see you.” Of course, you do, and turn to face him, only to realise that he’s still fully dressed, his belt is still securely latched into the buckle. He notices where your attention lays and looks down too. “Oh, right.”

Before he can return to work, you’re directly infront of him and pulling his belt free in seconds. Seokjin can only watch gobsmacked by how easily you remove the item; he always struggles with that particular belt.

“You look so hard, Sir,” you comment as your hands work on his button and zipper.

“Thanks to you.”

“Then maybe I should do something about it, hm?” Seokjin opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already on your knees and tugging down the material to free the object of your desire to your hungry graze. “You’re so big,” you coo, reaching out to wrap one hand around his thick length. Seokjin sucks in a shaky breath at your touch. “You’re going to feel so good pounding into me.”

“Shut up,” he groans. “Don’t talk like that.” His head tips back as you start to work your hand up and down his shaft at a leisurely pace, enjoying touching him for the first— and hopefully not last— time.

“Don’t you like dirty talk, Sir? You’re awfully good at it.”

“I–I can’t. Not right now,” he admits, knowing he’ll reach his end way too fast if he allows you to continue talking dirty to him. You make everything sound so delightfully sinful that he can hardly breathe. “Later?”

That makes your hand stop. “As in… We can do this again?” you question nervously, all confidence gone as you look up at him through your lashes. Seokjin lifts his head to look down at you. “What if… What if you don’t like it?”

“I’m this hard without you touching me, I doubt I won’t like fucking you,” he chuckles.

“Are you sure?”

“Just suck my cock already,” he chuckles again, darker this time as he smirks down at you.

And just like that, you’re back to being his submissive little one, ready to please. “Yes, Sir.” Eagerly, you dive forward, taking as much of his thick length into your mouth as physically possible at once, while using your hand to work the rest.

Seokjin chokes on a moan as his tip hits the back of your throat; you don’t even gag. “F–fuck, don’t you have a gag reflex?” he stutters on his words as you bob your head, taking the tip of his cock into your throat. You shake your head carefully, only slightly, while still sucking and bobbing away as if there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing right now. “So fucking perfect for me, little one.” He threads his fingers into your hair as he stares down at the way you work fucking magic on his cock with your mouth. “More, take more,” he demands after a moment, and you do.

Your eyes water at the stretch your throat is being forced to endure but you don’t complain. You love feeling him hot and heavy on your tongue. You’d happily suck his dick all night long if he asks.

Though, after only a few more minutes, Seokjin pulls you off his length, making you pout up at him and whine in wordless complaint.

“You like my cock in your throat that much?” he teases, and you nod shamelessly as he smirks down at you, pleased. “You’re definitely coming home with me tonight.” Your eyes light up, making you look like an excited little puppy, and he laughs lightly. “Get up, let me fuck you.” In seconds, you’re up on your feet and wincing at the pain in your knees from being pressing to the harsh tile floor. “Good girl.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. He places his hands on your waist and steps closer, pressing his erection into your stomach. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips quickly, mindlessly, and his eyes track the moment. And then he spins you around to roughly bend you over the desk. If you couldn’t already feel his erection prodding at your entrance, you’d be upset that he hadn’t kissed you, but your mind is already focused on other things, mainly his cock.

“You’re so wet, little one. I bet I’d just slide right in, huh?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your dripping folds with one hand wrapped around the base to direct his movement.

You expect him to push in, but he doesn’t. Instead, you feel the tip rest heavy on your clit, applying a teasing amount of pressure, while two of his fingers from his free hand wriggle their way into you.

“So warm,” he hums approvingly, talking to himself as he watches the way your pussy stretches around his curious fingers. He curls and scissors them to prepare you for his cock, while you gasp and writhe against his hand. His fingers feel pretty fucking good, but you want more. Need more.

“M–more, please, Sir,” you plead needily.

Seokjin complies, slipping in a third finger and immediately taking up a brutal pace of pumping and twisting the digits inside you. Moans spill from your lips, and your fingers try to grip onto the wood of the desk yet only slide across.

“You sound so pretty moaning like this, baby.” He pulls his fingers out, only to turn his hand over so that his palm faces the floor, then returns to thrusting his fingers into your pussy at a rapid pace. Now he can curl his fingers forward to press against that sweet little spot inside you and earn himself louder moans. “Ah, there it is, good girl,” he coos, pressing against the spot a few more times in rapid succession, before removing his fingers entirely.

You don’t have time to catch your breath to complain that he stopped when it felt so good. He wastes no time in pressing his cock into you with both hands gripping onto your hips tight to keep you still.

“Ah, Sir!” you exclaim when his hips snap forward impatiently to sheath his entire length deep within your dripping walls.

“Hm?” he can only offer a vague noise in response; his chest is already heaving from the effort of pushing his cock into you. He knew you could take it, you took his fingers so well, without complaint; but you’re so tight around him that he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to fit his full length at one point. And now he’s inside you, he never wants to leave; your walls hug him so well without leaving any of him untouched. He’s never felt something so perfect.

“So big, so good,” you slur, resting your forehead against the desk. You completely give up caring about the neat stacks of paper and push them out of the way so that you can press your chest against the cool wood of the desk for support. The movement has Seokjin’s cock settling a little deeper in your pussy, and he groans lowly in pleasure, fingers curling tighter into your skin. “Please, Sir, fuck me,” you beg, trying to force your hips back on him, feeling like you could get him just a little deeper if you pressed closer, but his grip is too tight.

Your words and desperate movements prompt him to act, at least. Seokjin’s head drops forward to watch his length reappear as he pulls his hips back slowly, before snapping forward and diving back inside. If your chest hadn’t already been pressed to the desk, his sudden, rapid thrusting would’ve made it that way.

Seokjin fucks like a mad man; hips battering against your ass as if fucking you is the only thing keeping him alive. He fucks like he’s on a mission to destroy you, and you love it.

Not once does it even occur to either of you that you’re in a public place with the door unlocked; in fact, it’s still open ajar. Honestly, even if someone was to walk in, neither of you would notice; you’re both entirely absorbed in the intense pleasure rapidly curling in your lower stomachs.

You’re both utterly shameless with your vocals too, moaning, and groaning, and panting heavily, spurring the other on with sounds as you both lose the ability to form words. Which only gets worse when he starts to pull your hips back to meet his thrusts, impaling you that little bit further on his cock and making you all but scream in pleasure as your legs threaten to give out.

You’re getting so tight around him that he’s finding it harder and harder to keep going; both because he’s hurting towards his climax, and because your walls are physically threatening to prevent him from moving. If you weren’t dripping with arousal already, Seokjin wouldn’t have even been able to keep going only minutes after starting.

He can’t wait to take you home and fuck you all night until you’ve soaked his mattress— and whatever other surface he decides to fuck you against. He’s already debating calling in sick tomorrow, just so that he has more time to play with you.

One particularly powerful thrust makes your knees give out with a yelp. Your body sags for only a second before Seokjin lurches forward to wrap his arms around you and pull you upright. “Shit, sorry,” he apologises while pulling out, then carefully turns you to sit you on the edge of the desk.

“It’s okay,” you reply, smiling breathlessly. Seokjin’s already thumping heart flutters at the sight of you. He’s never seen a sight so beautiful. “Don’t stop,” you encourage, opening your legs wide, and pulling his hips back to yours.

Seokjin makes short work of sliding his length back into you, sighing in pleasure at the feeling of having you wrapped around him again. “You feel so perfect,” he confesses, pressing his forehead against your shoulder to watch as his length slowly slides in and out of you. “So good.” He lifts his head to meet your gaze. “I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, eyes still locked with yours, which confuses you as you’re used to people looking at your lips when they want to kiss you. But you don’t mind at all, nor do you refuse; you want to kiss him too. You feel his lips turn up into a soft smile when you press yours to them.

As you both get lost in the kiss, Seokjin continues the slow, deep rolling of his hips, while your hands curiously explore one another. You almost complain about the fact he’s still fully dressed, wanting to feel his skin pressed against yours, but Seokjin happens to choose that moment to pick up the pace, and you simply moan into his mouth instead.

Very quickly, you both lose the ability to focus on the kiss and pull apart, your hands threaded in his hair, and his holding your thighs open as wide as possible to allow him to fuck you harder and deeper.

“I want you to cum,” he pants out when he feels himself getting dangerously close. “Touch yourself.”

You bite your lip nervously, having never touched yourself in front of someone before. But, you figure that if you were going to start, it’d be for Seokjin. Too desperate to cum to think on it for more than a second, you remove one hand from his hair to reach between your bodies and play with your clit, immediately tightening around his cock due to the extra, pleasurable stimulation.

“Shit, hurry, I’m gonna cum,” he urges, syllables slurring together, proving just how close he is to his climax. “Please, baby,” he begs, and just like that, your orgasm shoots through your body, curling your toes and tightening all of your muscles, almost giving your right calf a cramp, but you manage to straighten your leg just in time to prevent the pain; that would really ruin the mood. Seokjin grows still, watching your euphoric expression in awe for barely a second before he replaces his fingers on your clit with his thumb to work you through the pleasure.

When you whine from sensitivity and push his hand away, Seokjin pulls out and steps back while pointing to the floor with one hand, his other wrapping around his throbbing erection. “Down, mouth open,” he demands.

Despite your whole body feeling weak, and legs like jelly, you slide off the desk and lower yourself to the floor, opening your mouth wide in obedient wait. Seokjin groans low and affected at the sight of you, and pumps his hand up and down his length furiously. It only takes a few seconds before he’s spilling onto your tongue; you wrap your lips around him to suck gently, taking all he has to offer you.

When the pleasure has worked its way through his body, Seokjin pats your head softly in silent signal. “Good girl,” he pants, lips quirking in amusement at the way you haven’t yet removed his softening cock from your mouth, seeming more than happy to cock warm him for the foreseeable future. As much as he loves the sight of your lips stretched around him, he’s sensitive right now and doesn’t want to get overstimulated and risk not being up for fucking you again once he gets you home. “Up,” he says as he pulls out of your mouth, so that he can tuck himself away and pull up his boxers and trousers.

Once his zipper and button are secured back into place, Seokjin looks at you, only to find you still kneeling on the floor, watching him with innocent eyes.

“I said up,” he reminds, though you don’t make a move to obey. Instead, you open your mouth wide, showing him that you haven’t swallowed a drop of his cum. “Oh…” Seokjin chews on his bottom lip briefly, more aroused by the sight of his cum pooling in your mouth than he’d like to admit. “Swallow it.”

Obediently, you press your lips together and tip your head back so that he can see the bob of your throat when you swallow. Once you’ve swallowed every drop down, you lift your head back up to look at him, and once again part your lips wide to show your empty mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, making you beam, and he smiles fondly. “Come on, let’s get you decent enough to get back to my place. You can show me how deep you can really suck my cock.” Immediately, you light up and rush to get up to excitedly do as told.

As promised, Seokjin helps you get dressed, before he takes you back to his apartment to enthusiastically lay you out over every possible surface, and even pin you up against multiple walls.

It’s the first time Seokjin has ever received a noise complaint, but all he needs to do is look over at your mischievous grin to know that it won’t be the last.

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Though, Taehyung’s classroom gains a very angry little winged visitor on Monday morning before school starts, resulting in no school for him and his classmates on Monday. Although there technically is more than enough space in the school to put them in another room while the bird is safely removed and the class fully sanitised again, the teaching staff don’t think it wise to suddenly relocate a classroom of SEN students who need the stability and functions of their usual classroom.

So, you and Mingyu get another day with your son— to all of your joy—, and then, on Tuesday morning, Taehyung skips into school happily; excited to see Mr. Lee and give his bestest friends the friendship bracelets he picked out in Hawaii.

The last thing you expect while you wait on the playground after school for the class to be let out, is to see your son looking so sad as he approaches you hand in hand with a sympathetic looking Mr. Lee.

“What happened?” you worry as Taehyung latches onto your legs and only loosens his hold enough to allow you to pick him up and hold him close, where he tucks his face into your neck to hide away from the world.

“Tae’s had a bit of a bad friendship day,” Mr. Lee answers, looking genuinely a little upset about this as he frowns at Taehyung’s dejected form clinging to you, then returns his gaze to you as he continues to explain. “His usual little group didn’t include him today, because apparently, Tae was mean to Seungcheol by not attending his birthday party in the summer.”

You blink a few times, utterly bewildered. “It was Seungcheol’s birthday party? I didn’t know that, and I’m very positive Tae would’ve been too excited to not tell me if he was invited to one of his best friend’s birthday party.”

Mr. Lee hums in understanding. “I think it might be a good idea to have you and Seungcheol’s parents come in tomorrow before school, with the boys of course, and try to get to the bottom of this. He wasn’t happy today either, so I imagine his parents will want to fix this.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you agree. “How early should we be here?”

“Is twenty minutes before the bell doable for you? That will give plenty of time to get to the root of the issue, and then the boys will have time to play together before the other students come in; I think that would be good for them both.”

“We’ll be here,” you promise.

“Great. I’ll see you both in the morning then. See you tomorrow, Tae,” Mr. Lee says, gently touching his fingertips to Taehyung’s back for a moment in goodbye, yet not lingering at all, knowing it would overwhelm the boy right now.

As Mr. Lee turns and walks back to his classroom, you lift Taehyung a little higher to make carrying him easier, then head to your car ready to spend the rest of the evening doing everything humanely possible to try and put a smile back on your son’s face.

For the first time in a long time, Taehyung isn’t excited about going to school. He’s grumpy as he gets out of bed and barely touches his breakfast despite Mingyu having cooked the boy’s favourite to try and cheer him up.

He only perks up when the three of you are leaving the house and he spots the gift bag you’re carrying. “It’s Wednesday,” you remind, seeing a little of his usual light flitter back into his eyes. “Mr. Min teaches you this afternoon, so you can give him the gifts you picked for him and Jihoon.” That makes Taehyung give the first smile of the day as he climbs into the car with more energy than he’s had this morning and lets his dad strap him securely into his seat.

“Remember, you can’t call him Yoongi anymore,” Mingyu reminds as he fiddles with the clasps he still insists were designed just to piss him off, despite Taehyung having been using this specific seat for over a year now.

“Mr. Min,” Taehyung replies with a nod, seeming to be implanting the reminder into his still slightly sleepy mind. “Mr. Min,” he repeats as Mingyu backs off, mindlessly giving his dad their usual high-five to celebrate getting the straps securely buckled, too focused on muttering the name under his breath.

“I swear, that’s like a cheat code or something,” Mingyu muses as he climbs into the car. “Tell him he’s going to see his favourite teacher, and he cheers up.” You just hum in agreement while double checking that everyone is strapped in safely and ready to go.

As you start the drive, you just hope that before you leave the meeting, you won’t need to use Taehyung’s favourite teacher as a means to cheer your son up any more today.

Even though you do sometimes drop Taehyung off at school on Wednesday mornings, it’s not that regular as that’s always Mingyu’s or his parents’ day, but still, you’ve been at the school on Wednesday mornings before, yet you’ve never seen Yoongi around.

Evidently, as he steps out of the classroom into the hallway, he’s surprised to see you today too, as his eyes widen a little when he looks at the three of you. Though he wipes the look off of his face as Taehyung shuffles forward to hug his favourite teacher. “Good morning, Tae.”

“Sad mornin’,” Taehyung replies, face partially buried in the man’s leg.

“Well, we’re here to fix that,” he promises, then looks up at you and Mingyu. “Seungcheol and his parents are already here, come on through.”

The four of you enter the classroom where Mr. Lee is sitting on the desk chair pulled around to be seated with the fold out chairs, two of which are occupied by who you have to assume are Seungcheol’s parents, while the little boy himself is beside his mother in his wheelchair. You’ve only met the boy a few times, but you know he only uses his wheelchair when he’s having a bad mobility or pain day; and based on how his little expression is pinched in pain and he’s got his hands pressed to the crease where his legs connect to his hips, it’s a bad pain day.

Clearly, Taehyung knows as much too because as soon as he notices his friend’s condition, he gasps and lets go of Yoongi’s hand to rush across to the large cupboard at the front of the class beside the whiteboard.

From your guided tour of the school and classroom back in April, you know that cupboard contains a vast array of medical and first aid equipment to help handle whatever needs the children may have that doesn’t require being sent home or to the hospital. Every room in the school has one, and each classroom’s is personalised for the use of the students in that class. Of course, the dangerous and more delicate equipment is up out of reach of the children, but the lower shelves hold items that the children can get themselves; to give them a sense of responsibility and independence, knowing they likely will have to handle these things for the rest of their lives, so it’s better to get them used to it while young.

Taehyung grabs out what you recognise as heat pouches— the type that contain little fabric baggies that can be removed and put in the microwave to be warmed up. Without a word, he rushes to take them to Yoongi, as the teacher is still standing, and holds them up to the man with a pleading expression. Equally as quiet, Yoongi accepts the bags with a proud little smile, pats Taehyung’s head, then heads over to the microwave to remove the little baggies and place them inside.

As the microwave quietly whirs, heating the bags, your family goes over to sit on the chairs; though Taehyung stands in front of you, looking between the microwave and Seungcheol rapidly.

“Thank you for coming in,” Mr. Lee says before going on to politely introduce you and Mingyu to Seungcheol’s parents. “I think–” he starts to say, clearly planning to get to the point of being here, but the microwave dings softly and Taehyung darts over towards it.

You all watch as Taehyung accepts the packs once Yoongi has put them back together and handed them over. The little boy immediately turns and scuttles over to Seungcheol to give him the packs and watch as he puts them in place against his hips, and relaxes a little, giving Taehyung a soft “thanks, Tae”.

Only now that he’s done what he can to help, and Seungcheol doesn’t look so uncomfortable, does Taehyung return to stand in front of you. You don’t hesitate to tug him closer between your thighs to hold his hands and kiss the back of his head where it faces you, so proud of your thoughtful little boy.

“That doesn’t seem like a mean boy, Cheolie,” Seungcheol’s mother speaks up, turning her head from watching Taehyung in surprise, to give her own son a questioning look. Seungcheol just looks down at his hands as they pick at his trousers, offering no response.

Before Mr. Lee can do more than open his mouth to try and mediate the situation, Taehyung speaks up, shuffling nervously on his feet, and fingers randomly pressing into your hands in an effort of self-soothing, “I–I promise I ne–never knewed it was summer party birthday,” he vows, looking between Seungcheol— who is still looking down at his own lap— and the boy’s parents, both looking at Taehyung openly, clearly more than willing to give your son a chance to explain himself.

“Seungcheol didn’t give you the invitation?” Seungcheol’s dad asks. The second Taehyung shakes his head, Seungcheol’s parents both look at their son. “Seungcheol? You told us you handed the invitations out.”

Seungcheol sniffles, then looks at his parents with big eyes that look suddenly sad. “I–I was going to, but my legs hurt, so Hannie said he’d do it!” he defends. “He told me he gave to Tae and Soo!” he insists, looking on the verge of tears that you think aren’t entirely due to the pain he’s in.

“I see,” his mother sighs, then turns to look at your family. “I think I know exactly what happened here. Jeonghan and Seungcheol have been best friends since they were babies, and Jeonghan is very attached to his Cheolie,” she explains. You think you get where this is going but remain quiet to let her finish. “Jeonghan has always had a bit of a jealous streak when it comes to Seungcheol and other children, and it’s caused more than a few issues in the past. It’s not until they met Jisoo that Seungcheol gained a friend other than Jeonghan, so we were admittedly very worried when he came home talking about Taehyung this year.”

Seungcheol’s dad nods in agreement, taking his wife’s hand into his where she has it on her lap politely. “We should’ve known something like this would happen. We’re very sorry that this happened and upset your sweetheart of a son.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mingyu assures. “These kinds of things are bound to happen at some point, we’re just glad it’s more of a misunderstanding than anything.”

“Cheolie,” Seungcheol’s dad says, looking at his son, who looks up at him with a few tears on his cheeks, and lips turned into a sad pout. “I think you owe your friend an apology, don’t you? You really upset him by leaving him out yesterday.”

“I–I’m sorry, Tae,” Seungcheol says immediately, looking at Taehyung so earnestly that it’s clear that he means it and does truly feel guilty about it. “A–are you still my–my friend?”

Taehyung nods and lets go of you to move over and carefully hug Seungcheol, who melts in relief and squeezes Taehyung back. “I have for you gift!” he declares as he backs up, smiling and back to his usual self now as he removes his backpack. You watch as Taehyung takes the little paper bag of bracelets from his bag to show Seungcheol. “For you, and me, and Soo, and Hannie,” he informs. “You pick for you.”

“Oh!” Seungcheol beams and takes his take deciding which bracelet he likes best.

“Your son really is so sweet,” Seungcheol’s mother coos, drawing your attention. You can practically feel Mingyu puff with pride on your right. “How about we do something this weekend, just for the two boys; to make up for this whole ordeal?” she suggests.

“Can Tae come over?” Seungcheol asks, eyes wide in excitement. “To play with me, and he can meet Ponyo!”

“Fish girl?” Taehyung asks confusedly, and Seungcheol giggles, shaking his head.

“Ponyo is our new puppy! He’s so cute!”

“Puppy?!” Taehyung gasps and starts bouncing excitedly. “I can see puppy?!”

“Well, I think they’ve already planned it,” Seungcheol’s dad jokes, looking at you and Mingyu with a smile. “Would that be okay, for Taehyung to come over for the afternoon to play and meet the puppy?”

“I think we’d break his heart if we said no,” Mingyu jokes back, and you nod in agreement, all of you smiling as the two boys cheer happily, understanding that they get to hang out this weekend together— something they haven’t done before.

“Let’s exchange numbers,” Seungcheol’s mother suggests, already taking her phone from her handbag to unlock. “We can discuss it better through text; arrange a time, and you can let me know of any allergies or things we need to keep in mind for Taehyung’s visit.”

“That sounds great,” you agree and get up with your phone to approach the woman, who also gets to her feet so that you can exchange phone numbers.

After you and Seungcheol’s mother agree to text in the day to arrange the play date, she and her husband say goodbye to their son, and the rest of you, before they take their leave.

“Hey, Tae,” Mingyu calls conspiratorially while Mr. Lee helps Seungcheol put his bag and jacket away instead of leaving them hanging on the back of his wheelchair. Taehyung skips over to his dad curiously, then gasps in excitement when Mingyu pointedly shows the boy the giftbag by your feet.

“Mr. Min!” Taehyung exclaims, scrambling to clutch the gift bag close, before rushing over to his favourite teacher, where the man is flicking through papers as he stands beside the desk.

You and Mingyu remain where you are to watch contently as Taehyung excitedly gives Yoongi the gifts he picked out for him and Jihoon in Japan; a little plush Kumamon keyring for the teacher— because Taehyung knows the man apparently loves the mascot—, and a musical snow globe that plays a song for the anime that the character within is from, just because Taehyung thinks Jihoon will love the song even if he doesn’t watch anime. You think he’s right; it really is a beautifully soothing tune.

Yoongi enthuses about the gifts from where he had crouched down in front of the little boy to be at his height. He looks genuinely thrilled with his keychain, grinning big and gummy, and straightens just enough to clip it onto the belt loop of his jeans, making your heart do something funny and flippy seeing him be so good with your son.

You can’t help but wonder if your heart would skip over itself seeing Yoongi acting like this with other children. Something in you tells you it wouldn’t; that it’s the fact it’s your son he’s being so sweet to that makes your heart grow sweeter on him.

In an attempt to not let how soft the scene has made you show on your features, you grab Mingyu’s arm and call out to Taehyung that you’re going now. Once Taehyung has finished squeezing you both, and planting kisses on both of your cheeks— gaining one on each cheek in return at the same time from you both—, he rushes back over to his favourite teacher to tell him about Japan, and you all but drag Mingyu out, ignoring the shit eating grin he’s wearing.

“So, when’re you proposing?” he jokes as you exit the building. You wait until you’re in the car and safely out of view of little eyes and ears before retaliating with a hissed “shut the fuck up”, and a shove to his beefy arm. Mingyu just cackles in response.

To your utter joy, when Taehyung gets home, he’s back to skipping off ahead of his dad to excitedly tell you about his day. He tells you how in the morning, Jeonghan had apologised for not giving him Seungcheol’s party invite and being a meanie. Of course, Taehyung had easily forgiven him and gave Jeonghan and Jisoo their friendship bracelets. And to make his day even better than a promise of a puppy-play date with one of his best friends this weekend, and an apology and make up hug from Jeonghan, the boy even let Taehyung sit next to Seungcheol at lunch, in the seat that Jeonghan usually refuses to let anyone but him sit in.

Although you’re pretty sure it won’t be the last issue Taehyung ever has with his best friends, you’re glad to know that it seems that even though they’re small, they can forgive and be kind to each other in ways that you’ve seen some adults fail to do. You hope that the four will continue to remain such good friends for a long time. Taehyung really does deserve to grow with the boys who understand him and won’t ever judge him for his struggles.

As you listen to Taehyung enthuse about the games they played today between classes— all sit down games to accommodate Seungcheol’s bad pain day— you’re pretty confident that the four will truly be close for many years to come.

On Thursday, Taehyung comes home even more excited than Wednesday, having babbled to you the entire ride home about Jihoon finding him at lunch on the playground, even though Taehyung has never seen Jihoon on the playground before. But apparently, Jihoon had wanted to thank Taehyung for the gift and let him know that he searched the anime intro the snow globe played, then watched the anime and quickly decided he likes anime. He suggested that Taehyung watch it when he’s bigger too, because it’s probably too scary for Taehyung to watch at his age, so he needs to be bigger first. Taehyung hadn’t remembered what the anime is— neither could you— but the two of you made a plan for Taehyung to ask Yoongi at school to write it down for you to research it together.

Which somehow leads to Taehyung finding an anime Thursday evening once you get home from the school run, and watches it entirely enthralled. He does the same on Friday after school, finishing the single season show, then finds another to start, and declares that he loves anime during bedtime.

You’re not at all surprised that Saturday consists of Taehyung partaking in his new favourite hobby, watching anime. Admittedly, you also get into the show too and leave Mingyu to deal with the day’s chores and grocery run on his own. Not that he minds when it’s often down to you to do it all as he’s away for work so much.

Then, on Sunday, Taehyung wakes, and before he’s even fully cognisant, he toddles downstairs all on his own to turn on the TV and finish the episode he had to turn off half-way through for bedtime last night.

You’re entirely unaware of this until Mingyu wakes you up by sprawling over you— fully dressed despite it barely being 8am— and squeezes your cheeks playfully while you glare sleepily at him. “Good morning, cupcake!” he greets, and presses a kiss to your still squished cheeks before sitting up, kneeling over your waist. “I think our son is an anime addict,” he declares, making your eyes open again from closing ready to go back to sleep— or at least rest some more.

“What?” you mumble, shuffling around into a more comfortable position on your back to look up at him.

“I was making breakfast when he came down like an hour ago and didn’t even notice me in the kitchen, just turned on the TV and got back to that anime he was watching last night.”

“Seriously?” He nods, pouting a little, and you snicker. “Are you sulking because he didn’t notice you in the kitchen?”

Mingyu hesitates before answering in a tone that you don’t even have to know him well to know is a blatant lie. “No.”

You laugh and nudge him off of you so that you can toddle to the bathroom, suddenly aware of how full your bladder is. “Did you make him breakfast?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, following you into the bathroom. At this point, you’ve both cared for each other when the other has been ill and barely able leave the toilet— with a bucket clutched on naked thighs—, so you really have no issue with peeing with Mingyu hovering at the sink to ready your toothbrush for you, knowing you’ll want to brush your teeth as you’re up now.

As soon as you’ve flushed the toilet and are at the sink washing your hands, Mingyu attaches himself to your back and buries his face in your neck, still clutching your toothbrush in one hand. Though the second you take it from him and start to brush your teeth, his hand is under your pyjama top— one of his old t-shirts he claims has always looked better on you— to rub at your stomach.

“Let’s have another baby,” he says, making your freeze and look over your shoulder at him as if he’s crazy. Upon spotting his cheeky grin, you realise he’s just messing with you and shove him away before turning back around to return to brushing your teeth while he giggles away, so damn pleased at himself for his joke. “I’m kidding!” he declares when you’re done and turn to leave your ensuite. “I know you’re going to have a baby with Yoongi, if anyone.” He's cackling and running away even before he’s done with his taunt.

For a moment, you regret admitting your interest in Min Yoongi to Mingyu, but then the moment passes and you’re glad that your ex-husband is still your best friend, and the two of you still care and cherish one another to never hesitate to share any secrets with. Even if it leads to the man taking every opportunity to tease you. You know you’d do the same to him if the roles were reversed, so you can’t really be upset about it anyway.

As both you and Taehyung are already up when Mingyu has to leave to catch his flight at a little after 9am, you decide to drive him to the airport— with you and Taehyung still donned in your pyjamas. You and Taehyung sit in the car to watch the man rush off with his security team— who met you at the drop off point— and only drive off when he’s safely in the building after blowing kisses to the car in one last dramatic goodbye.

“Mama, can we get gift for Cheolie for late birthday?” Taehyung requests only minutes after driving away from the airport.

“Oh, yeah, we can do that. I didn’t even think that we didn’t get him a birthday gift,” you admit. “Good catch, baby. Shall we go now, or do you want to go home and change first?”

“Go now so we have plenty lots time,” he decides.

“Okey dokey!” you easily agree, and head to the shopping district. You’re entirely uncaring that you’re about to go shopping on a Sunday morning in your worn old pyjamas, with your hair lazily thrown up out of your face in a bun that Taehyung had insisted on doing himself before you left the house— so that your hair doesn’t get in your face when driving—, complete with mismatched, bright character clips. You probably look a mess, but you’re about five years past caring, not when your sole focus is always Taehyung.

Even though you know that Taehyung is going to carefully scrutinise every single option on the shelves before likely choosing to buy the very first thing he picks up, you really don’t mind at all. Taehyung always wants to do his very best for those he cares about, down to taking his time to make sure any gift he selects will be enjoyable for the receiver. The little boy just has so much love in him, and you’ll never intentionally do a thing to ever ruin that.

As soon as the front door of the Choi house opens, Seungcheol bounces out and happily throws himself at Taehyung in an overjoyed hug. He’s clearly more than excited to see Taehyung today, and thankfully, his body is being kind enough to him that he doesn’t seem to be in any pain. It’s definitely a cause to smile bright enough that his adorable dimples pop out, you think.

“I missed you!” Seungcheol declares as the boys embrace each other tightly, both wearing bright grins paired with sparkling eyes.

“I missed you!” Taehyung replies, entirely honestly because he always misses his loved ones, even after only a few hours apart.

“Come meet Ponyo!” Seungcheol says as soon as they break their hug, grabbing Taehyung’s hand to tug him in past his dad at the door, only stopping to show Taehyung where to put his slides, then the pair run off happily.

“Well, it seems like there shouldn’t be any problems today,” the man muses as he turns to you with a chuckle.

“It seems that way,” you agree and hold up the gift bag in your hands. “This is a late birthday gift for Seungcheol, Taehyung is very excited to give it to him; he’ll circle around to it when he’s over the excitement of puppy and a new place to explore,” you explain, handing over the gift bag.

“Oh, that’s so kind, you didn’t have to get him anything, but I know he will appreciate it. His mother and I do too.”

“It’s really no problem. One of Tae’s love languages is gift giving; it makes him really happy to give others things, so I’ll never say no when he wants to buy one of his best friends a birthday gift,” you assure with a vaguely dismissive wave of your hand, then offer the backpack on your shoulder, which the man takes without hesitation. “There should be everything he needs in there if he gets overwhelmed, plus a change of clothes just in case. He knows it’s there and he’s pretty independent with that stuff usually, so he should be fine to just get what he needs when he needs it so long as he knows where his bag is.”

“I’ll leave it on the dining table, out of reach of our youngest and the puppy, and tell him it’s there right away.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate how much care you and your wife have put into having Tae over. I know it can be a lot of information to take in, all his potential needs and such, but chances are, he’ll be okay. I’d just rather warn you just in case, and to minimise chances of things being uncomfortable for anyone.”

“We understand. Cheolie has a lot of needs himself, as you can imagine, so we really do understand. Sure, their needs are very different, but we still want to do our best to accommodate anyone special to our son.” He smiles at you a moment, then glances downwards, making you look down too and notice a toddler peering around his legs and clutching on. “Ah, this is our youngest, Hansol. Solie, say hi.” Hansol waves but doesn’t look at you.

“Hello, Hansol, it’s lovely to meet you,” you reply softly, leaning down a little to be closer to his level without risking overwhelming him. “I like your t-shirt, Spider-Man is my favourite superhero.” Hansol glances up at you through his thick lashes, and breaks into a quick, bright smile, before he giggles, turns, and runs off. “He’s adorable,” you coo as you straighten back up.

“I’ll admit, we did well with our sons in that way for sure,” the man jokes with a grin. Now you can see where Seungcheol gets his dimples from and can’t help but smile wider at him.

“Definitely, they’re both precious,” you agree with a nod. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Please don’t hesitate to call for any reason at all; I’m not doing anything today, so I can come back if Tae needs me at any point.”

“We will,” he promises, settling you a lot, because he really does look like he’s being genuine. “Have a nice time, relax a little.”

“Oh, I plan to,” you reply with a giggle and back up. You wave slightly in farewell before you return to your car and head off.

Due to the nice weather and great natural lighting, you head to a nearby lake only a ten-minute drive away with every intention of taking some photos. It’s been a while since you’ve worked with nature, not people, so the change of literal scenery is very welcome.

Despite your initial plans, once you’ve found somewhere to park and wander along towards the lake with your camera already out for anything that might catch your eye on the way, you spot something that gains your attention in a different way and makes you detour a little.

Sitting on a bench just outside of the playpark, along the path in the grass towards the lake, is none other than Jungkook. You two had great fun together in Hawaii, and you have a few hours to kill, so you entirely give up on your plan to take any photos and instead redirect your feet to his direction. Though, admittedly, you do stop and snap a few photos of the model while he’s unaware. You know he won’t care, especially if you send them to him later.

“Hey,” you greet once close enough, making Jungkook look over and quickly grin at you.

“Hey, mama. No cub today?”

“He’s having a playdate,” you inform, circling around the bench to plop down at his side comfortably, uncaring that his arm is spread over the back of the bench so is now almost around you. You want him all over you right now anyway and want to take him home sooner rather than later to achieve just that.

Yet, when you face forward, you suddenly realise that won’t happen as you spot Jihoon in the park and realise that Jungkook is seated in the perfect position to watch over him. The boy isn’t playing like the few other kids in the park, he’s just sitting on one of the swings, gently moving back and forth with his eyes on the clouds and headphones over his ears. It’s clear he’s in his own little world and more than content that way.

“Oh, are you babysitting Jihoon?” you question, surprised about the fact, because honestly, you hadn’t seen Jungkook interact with either Yoongi or Jihoon at Seokjin’s wedding, so you hadn’t been aware they even know each other. Especially not well enough for Jungkook to watch over the boy— and for Jihoon so seem so at east about it too.

“Yep.” Jungkook confirms simply with a nod, making you give him a questioning look. “What?”

“I didn’t know you even know him.”

“He’s my nephew.”

For a few seconds, all you can do is stare blankly at Jungkook, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth. “He’s what?” you mutter dumbly.

“My nephew, as in I’m his uncle.”

“Oh my fucking god,” you wheeze out and turn away wide eyed, staring over at Jihoon unseeing. But it’s fine, he doesn’t even know you’re there, so he doesn’t get uncomfortable with your strange expression. “You’re Yoongi’s brother?” you whisper.

“Yeah, well, half, we have different dads. But we don’t really consider that most of the time.” You make a strange, almost strangled kind of sound in response. “What?”

“Nothing,” you lie, pretty blatantly too, but you’re too shocked with your mind whirling to even care or truly register it.

“Bullshit,” he scoffs, and gently hits your shoulder with his hand on the back of the bench. “I know you. What is it?”

For a moment, you just stare silently ahead, before you let out a heavy breath and slouch defeatedly. “Kinda got a thing for your brother,” you admit in a mumble. Instantly, Jungkook gasps in genuine shock, only to crack up into laughter a second later. “How did I not know you have a brother?” you grump, prodding his thick thigh where it’s almost pressed against your own.

It takes a moment for Jungkook to stop cackling away and actually respond. “Guess it never came up.” He snickers. “I’m not sure how he’ll feel about dating someone I’ve fucked, but I’ll put in a good word for you,” he offers as he puts his arm casually around your shoulders. You don’t even need to look at him to know he’s got a dumbass, highly amused grin on his face.

“Don’t bother,” you huff and Jungkook makes a curious noise, turning more serious now due to your own tone. “He wouldn’t even swap numbers with me for the sake of the boys hanging out. School policy, apparently.”

“What?” he mutters confused, only to realise a split second later and make a sharp noise of understanding. “Oh, oh shit, Tae goes to Hoon’s school, I forgot.” He hums, then quickly makes another confused sound. “Wait, that shouldn’t matter though.”

“Yoongi’s Tae’s sub right now,” you inform.

“Ah, yeah, that’ll do it,” he agrees. You’re still watching a contently oblivious Jihoon swaying on the swing, but you can see Jungkook’s head bobbing in your peripheral. “Teachers can’t get into romantic or sexual relationships with the parents or guardians of students under their direct care,” he says in a way that sounds like he knows that particular rule far too well when he is neither a staff member nor parent of a student at the school. For a second, you start to run through the staff you know in your mind to try and figure out who Jungkook may’ve seduced in order to learn that rule so well, but then he continues speaking and you truly register what he’s saying. “If he wasn’t Tae’s teacher, he could do whatever he wants with you.”

The information Jungkook tells you doesn’t entirely make sense to you, not in your situation. You hadn’t given any hints to Yoongi about wanting to fuck or date him, past that moment of weakness when you flirted as he and Jihoon left your hotel suite in Hawaii that day. “What about platonic?” you question, shuffling to sit up straight again and look at Jungkook.

“Platonic?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow at you questioningly.

“Yeah, I asked to exchange numbers, not nudes,” you point out.

“Ah.” Jungkook’s expression turns into a playful smirk, and he wiggles his eyebrows at you comically. “Guess you have a better chance than you realise.”

You sigh, pouting a little. “Not now that I’ve sat on your face.”

“Yeah, probably not,” he agrees with a few more amused cackles, making you sigh again and turn to face forward again while putting your head on his shoulder comfortably. “We should do that again, if it’s already fucked up for you,” he suggests, resting his head on top of yours.

“Mm, sure,” you concede, because it really was a great experience that you’d be a fool to refuse given the chance. “But come February, I’m sitting on his face,” you decide determinedly.

“Okay, whatever you say, mama,” he agrees and pats your shoulder.

Honestly, you really don’t know if Yoongi would be okay with seeing you in any capacity past platonic once he learns that you’ve fucked his half-brother, but Jungkook knows the man better than you and seems to think that there’s at least some chance for you to worm yourself into Yoongi’s heart— and bed—, so you’re going to keep hope in your chest and wait for spring to bloom a new chance for you.

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You have no idea what his name is, you’ve never spoken to him nor been in close proximity; but that doesn’t deter you from setting up in that same spot under the parasol for a few hours every few days, at roughly the same time, just to watch Mr. Hunky Lifeguard do his rounds, strolling topless up and down the sand, and helping where he can.

It’s sweet; the way he’ll help anyone who asks, even with matters you’re very certain are not a part of his job description. Judging impromptu sandcastle contests between kids. Blowing up beach balls. Helping older folk set up their beach chairs and parasols.

You can’t help but wonder if he’d help you apply sunscreen. His warm hands slipping over your thighs, working up, and up, and–

“Hey!” The voice of your best friend breaks you from your fantasies as she skips over happily, hands cupped together, and before she’s even close enough, you already know what’s in her hands. “Check this out!” She drops onto her knees at your side to proudly show you…a little crab. So not another shell to add to the pile gathering on the sand to your right, as you had assumed.

“A crab.”

“Yes.”

“I thought you were looking for shells to decorate your castle with?” You both look over at the half-finished and, admittedly, rather grand sandcastle a little to the side, safely out of the way from any passerby.

“Every castle needs a King; don’t you think he’ll look crabulous on his throne?” You look back at your best friend to find her grinning at you, proud of her joke.

“Go find shells,” you deadpan, she just giggles and gets up to return to the rockpool where she had found the crab, to return it to its home.

Thoroughly distracted from your fantasy of the hot lifeguard, you have honestly forgotten about it and also happened to have lost track of him. Last you saw him, he was up on the deck of the watch tower, peering over the beach through binoculars, yet now, he’s nowhere to be seen.

With a disappointed sigh, you decide to just relax, leaning back against the bags you’ve piled up to create an impromptu backrest, and go back to reading your book.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a figure blocks your light and casts a shadow over your pages. You immediately assume it’s your friend from the way the figure lingers, and you lift your head with every intention of accepting whatever funky patterned rock or shell she’s found this time, yet it’s not her who you spot, but Mr. Hunky Lifeguard himself.

“Hi,” he greets, hands on his hips, and smiling at you in that bright, friendly way you’ve noticed him smiling at everyone else.

You take the moment with him so close to quickly rake your hidden gaze over his exposed, sun-kissed, toned torso and arms. Praise be to whoever invented dark sunglasses. “Hello.”

“Family day out?” he questions, motioning to the pile of plastic beach toys beside the sandcastle on your right, causing you to look over and only now realise how it must look; that you’re here with your child, not your grown ass adult of a best friend.

“Not exactly,” you huff a laugh and lean aside a little to peer around him. “My best friend,” you declare upon spotting said person, and pointing to her. To your surprise, she’s squatting down with another lifeguard— this one wearing the same red shorts, though he’s got a white sleeveless t-shirt on—, and rummaging through the sand with your friend.

“Oh!” The man in front of you lets out a surprised little laugh when he looks over too. “I’ve never seen Vernon interact like that with a stranger. Unless they know each other?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” You shrug and look back up at the tall man in time to see his body angle back around to give you his full attention.

You briefly wonder who exactly is looking over this section of the beach when both lifeguards are currently distracted on the sand.

“Huh, okay. I’m Mingyu.” He takes a step closer to lean over and offers his hand to you.

Your gaze catches on the chain around his neck and the way it swings as he leans over. You want to reach out and grab it, yank him down and defile the beach together. But that would get you arrested, and you really don’t want that. So, you lean up onto your knees to accept his hand to shake and tell him your name in return.

“Mm, pretty,” he hums, looking at you over the top of his dark sunglasses with a lopsided little smile. It feels flirty as fuck, but you don’t want to make assumptions that this beautiful man is interested in you.

“Oh, thank you.” You smile a little and take your hand back yet remain on your knees with your feet tucked comfortably under you as he straightens up. You can’t help but think about the fact that if he was a few feet closer, you’d be at face height with his dick and within reaching distance.

“You must really like the beach.”

“Huh?” You blink away the fantasy of slobbering all over Mingyu’s cock and seeing how pretty he looks when he cums down your throat, or maybe on your face; that’d be nice too.

“I said you must really like the beach; I’ve seen you here almost every day for almost a month now.”

“You noticed me?” you mutter in shock.

“Uhm.” Mingyu rubs the back of his neck awkwardly; his confident stance melting away as his shoulders curve in and make him appear smaller, embarrassed. Cute. “I–It’s my job. To notice things. People. You know. To ma–make sure people are safe.”

“I see.” You hum and tilt your head a little without even noticing; amused and endeared by him. As if he isn’t already attractive enough just by existing; talking to him and realising he’s got this cute, shy side definitely draws you in further.

“Y–yep!” He laughs awkwardly and straightens to his full height again while putting his hands on his hips. “Well, I should get back to it. Nice to meet you!” And then he rushes off before you can even respond, leaving you watching him scuttle off and almost trip over a stray sandal in the sand, making you snicker. Mingyu flails to right himself, and then immediately looks over at you to see if you noticed. Realising that you had definitely seen him almost faceplant the sand, he gives an awkward, embarrassed little wave before turning and rushing off, quickly putting his face in his palms as he goes.

And just like that, the beach gets that much more interesting.

It’s a handful of days before you return to the beach; you had been busy with work, unfortunately, so you simply hadn’t had the time or energy to take the trip.

“I’m gonna dig a giant fucking hole today,” your best friend declares as you both put down your items in your usual spot and start to set up.

“To bury me? Work killed me, babe,” you retort dramatically.

“Please don’t bury bodies on the beach,” the unexpected male voice makes you jump and look over. To your surprise, a dripping wet Mingyu is standing a little behind you. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply dumbly, doing your utmost to not ogle his shimmering chest, or the flex of his bicep as he lifts a hand to run his fingers through his wet hair to stop the salty water dripping over his face.

You’re, once again, very glad for tinted sunglasses.

“You’re wet,” your best friend comments, making you both look at her where she’s standing and looking between you both over the top of her sunglasses— you’re very certain she’s lowered them down her nose just to give you both this very pointed look.

“I was teaching a kid to swim, of course I’m wet.” Mingyu chuckles, motioning over his shoulder with his thumb in the direction of the sea behind him.

“Wasn’t talking to you.” Your best friend gives you a final look before pushing her sunglasses back up into place. “I’ll leave you to set up, I have places to be.” With that, she turns and walks off in the direction of the snack carts and shacks further down the beach, leaving you and Mingyu alone.

You appreciate that; the alone time with the attractive man, but what you don’t appreciate is having to set up on your own. “She could’ve at least opened the parasol first,” you mutter to yourself while looking at the giant umbrella in disdain.

“I can help!” Mingyu offers, bounding forward before you can even answer, to pick up the umbrella from the sand, biceps flexing as he moves. “Where do you want it?”

“Right here,” you reply without thought. He hums in understanding, even if he doesn’t truly understand; because you were definitely thinking about where you want him to rail you when you answered, not where you want the parasol set up. Still, Mingyu sets the parasol up and it is in the right place, so you find no reason to correct yourself, and instead thank him and get to work setting up the mat.

To your pleased surprise, Mingyu sticks around to help you finish setting up everything, making friendly conversation as he goes and smiling brighter every time he makes you laugh.

You wish he would keep you company for longer but his walkie-talkie crackles to life and announces that he’s needed, so he leaves you with a smile, and waves at you when he looks over his shoulder after jogging a little away.

It makes you feel all warm inside; how he seems to be genuinely interested in being near you. You just hope that it doesn’t take another three weeks before he decides to make a move if he plans to. You’re not confident enough yourself to make that move; you’d be utterly mortified if you’ve read this all wrong and he’s just being a genuinely nice guy who goes above and beyond for his job.

So, you just settle down with a new book and hold that hope next to that sun shining in your chest.

“This is perhaps the dumbest idea we’ve had and gone through with,” your best friend comments as the two of you stand ankle-deep in the sea with the rented surfboards ready for your lesson, and one of the two men who run the surf supply shack.

“You signed us up,” you point out, both of you watching the man in question as he removes his t-shirt on the shore to toss at his co-worker, who rolls his eyes.

You know the co-worker personally, but more because he somehow knows your best friend. His name is Joshua, and he, according to your bestie, has purposely set up this lesson with his co-worker, Seungcheol, because Joshua owes her for something or other. Honestly, you long ago stopped trying to keep track of the shenanigans of your bestie. Wisely too.

“Sorry about that, Shua had to tell me something,” Seungcheol apologises as he walks over to join you two, sans surfboard of his own, confusing you, but you don’t point it out.

“Sounds ominous,” you declare.

“No.” He chuckles, and motions to your best friend, who points at herself with wide eyes on view thanks to her sunglasses currently being propped on Joshua’s head so that they don’t get lost to sea, while yours are with your belongings. “Shua said you have really bad balance, so I should probably hold onto you.”

“Terrible balance,” your best friend agrees seriously without missing a beat, even if you know she’s lying at least a little.

It takes everything in you to not burst into laughter. Clearly, Joshua is very aware that your bestie has been thirsting over his co-worker since she first saw him. Admittedly, you have been too, but most of your attention has been on Mr. Hunky Lifeguard, now officially known as Mingyu.

“Okay, so is it alright if I hold onto you to help?” Seungcheol checks, expression giving away that he truly has no idea that this is some kind of a set-up and is genuinely just concerned for his student’s safety.

“Full consent to touch me however you want,” your best friend agrees, making Seungcheol smile, entirely missing the depravity hiding in her words.

You have to look away to take a few breaths to calm yourself before you break, and happen to notice Mingyu up on the watchtower deck looking through his binoculars. You can’t be certain, but it looks like he’s got them pointed in your direction. You don’t want to be delusional, so convince yourself that even if he is, he’s not focused on you specifically.

Spoiler, he definitely is.

“Alright.” Seungcheol claps his hands together, making you jump a little, turn back to him, and catch his adorable gummy smile. “Let’s get this lesson started, shall we ladies?”

Honestly, the lesson with Seungcheol goes a lot better than expected; he takes it very seriously and pays careful attention to you both. You hadn’t expected to get anywhere close to standing on the board in the water, but with his careful guidance— even with his hands hovering around your friend to aid her oh so terrible balance if need be—, you get your feet under you.

After a few more tries, you manage to get almost entirely upright, while Seungcheol and your friend cheer you on supportively. And then, you make a giant fucking mistake.

Before you’re even upright, you lift your head just enough to peer around naturally, and notice Mingyu in all his topless, red short glory jogging along the beach, looking like everything out of a Baywatch themed porno with his pecs bouncing with fucking every step. And as if that’s not bad enough, the man clearly is packing something very special in his shorts, because you notice that bouncing too.

Next thing you know, you’re toppling into the water so suddenly that you inhale in shock a second before you hit the sea’s surface, allowing salty water to pour into your open mouth and trickle into your lungs. It’s barely a second that you’re under the water before a strong arm is around your waist and heaving you up into the air while you sputter, panic starting to seize your body.

“Move!” You hear as you’re laid down on the sand by the strong arms, though the voice is coming from elsewhere.

“I can handle this, Gyu,” this voice is right over you; the owner of the arms, and you vaguely register it as Seungcheol, but you’re too busy coughing up seawater to open your eyes or give him or the other man any attention.

“I’ve got it, Cheol,” Mingyu assures. There’s a heavy sigh, and then those strong hands leave your body, and you feel Seungcheol back away while other hands touch you gently, helping to remain on your side. “That’s it, you’re okay, I’ve got you,” Mingyu’s voice is soft and soothing where he’s hovering over you in concern with one hand rubbing over your arm and the other pushing your hair back.

Luckily, the whole ordeal only lasts a handful of minutes, and then you’re okay, breath stuttered and throat a little sore, but fine otherwise.

When you roll onto your back and open your eyes, you find Mingyu right there, leaning over you and backlit by the sun he’s purposely blocking from shining right in your eyes. Like your own personal guardian angel. Or something more poetic.

You can be given a break from being unable to wax poetic about this beautiful specimen of humanity before you, considering what you’re going through. And no, not the just inhaling seawater thing. But the whole, he’s leaning over you topless with that damn silver chain dangling inches from your face, thing. Just a little closer and you could bite it.

You wonder if he’d find that weird. Probably. You still want to do it though.

“Hey.” He gives you a tender kind of smile when you lift your eyes from his chain to meet his relieved, soft gaze. “You okay?” You just nod, pretty sure you’d say something highly inappropriate if you open your mouth.

“I dunno, I think she might need you to watch over her, Mr. Lifeguard,” Your best friend speaks up. You peer at her from the corner of your eyes and find her standing beside Seungcheol with a little smirk on her face as she looks between you and Mingyu. “Maybe you should take her up to the watchtower and keep a close eye on her, just in case.”

“She doesn’t need that,” Seungcheol points out simply, definitely unaware that your friend is trying to set up a situation for you and the man you’ve been thirsting over for weeks.

“No, no, she’s right,” Mingyu argues quickly as he shakes his head and turns to you to help you sit up and then get to your feet to stand with him. “I should definitely keep a close eye on her, she almost drowned, Cheol–”

“She’s fine,” Seungcheol’s mutter is neither heard nor considered as Mingyu continues to talk over him as if the man said nothing.

“So, I’ll take her to the watch tower for a while until she’s feeling all better, sounds okay?” He looks at you. You just nod.

“Make her feel all better, Mr. Lifeguard,” Your bestie encourages with a nod and thumbs up. Mingyu returns it, though you’re not certain he actually gets what your friend is insinuating, but you don’t really care. Whether he understands or not, you’re getting alone time with Mingyu and that’s all that matters. Bless your bestie for always trying to get you laid.

As you walk up the stairs to the watchtower, Mingyu walks a few steps behind you with a hand on your lower back gently, the same place it has been since the two of you started to walk across the sand. It’s still there when he opens the door and you two enter the building.

“Hey,” Vernon, the lifeguard your bestie apparently befriended the other day, greets upon looking over from where he’s sitting at the control desk facing the large windows that oversee the beach. “Oh,” he mutters, eyes widening a little as he looks between you and Mingyu, clearly taking in the sight of the tall man’s hand on your back. “You know, I think I’m going to go get some air for a bit.”

“Okay,” Mingyu agrees, giving Vernon a grateful look as the shorter man vacates the building without even grabbing his walkie-talkie from the desk.

At Mingyu’s gentle nudge, you move further into the building, allowing him to shut the door.

“I’ll grab you a towel,” he declares, moving over to the cupboards while you decide to check out the view from the window.

From here you can see the entire section of the beach, especially when you pick up the binoculars Vernon left on the desk and peer through them. It’s pretty interesting; being able to watch over everyone like this and see everything while they no doubt don’t even consider the eyes on them from above.

“Can they see us?” you wonder, lowering the binoculars to look at Mingyu as he approaches with a towel in hand.

“I mean, sure, if they try hard enough at other times of day; but the sun is in the right position to just reflect on the glass at the moment. So right now, no, nobody can see us,” he informs, stopping perhaps a little closer than necessary. Paired with the information that nobody would even see if he fucked you right against the window, heat flares in your stomach.

“Have you tested that?”

“Mm, a few times.”

“How?”

Mingyu tilts his head a little at you, and as you haven’t accepted the towel, too focused on the conversation, he puts it down on the desk and gently takes the binoculars from your hands to also put down. “What do you mean, how? By looking up from outside.”

“Right.” You hum and turn your head to look back out of the window.

“What were you expecting?” He chuckles lowly. You feel him move a little closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his bare chest against your left arm. “Hm?” You shrug. “Tell me.”

“Just…you know.” You shrug again, and although you can barely feel it through the wet material of the rash guard on your torso, the gentle press of his fingers on your back makes you shiver a little.

“You should get out of this and dry off,” he suggests while running his right hand up the length of your back and around your neck to the zipper in the middle of your throat.

“I might need some help getting it off,” you reply. “Things being wet makes things harder.”

“Oh, I know.” You’re very certain that you’re both talking in double entendre now and look at him over your shoulder as you turn your back to him a little more to give him better access without having to reach around you so much.

For a weighted moment, nothing happens, just heavy eye contact as if you’re both waiting for the other to take a step backwards and prove your suspicions of the rising tension between you to be false.

Yet, you both stay in place.

You feel a slight tug against your neck, barely noticeable, but it makes your body burn a little hotter as he slowly tugs down the zipper to your clavicle before stopping.

“Face me,” he mutters, adjusting his own stance to fully face you. You immediately comply and turn so that you’re face to face, all without him removing his grip on the pull of your zipper.

Then he’s back to dragging the zip down, over your breasts, where his knuckles brush a little, making your breath catch, before his hand moves on to finish the path to open the zip all the way to where it stops at your belly button.

Mingyu only then breaks eye contact to look down at the glimpse of skin he can see now with the zipper open. “This is a one piece?” he checks, noticing how the material of the rash guard vanishes into your shorts. You hum in confirmation, and then he’s lowering to his knees in front of you to tuck his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

He glances up at you, checking that this is okay, and when you nod, he gives you a little smile before turning his full attention back down to watch the shorts move down your thighs with the help of his hands.

“Can you–” he starts once you’ve stepped out of the shorts and he’s tossed them aside, but when he looks up at you, you’re already working on pulling the front of your rash guard open, revealing your chest little by little, covered only by the little bikini you bought specifically to wear with the rash guard. “That.” Mingyu swallows thickly, watching more skin get revealed until you start to struggle to get the wet material down your shoulders. Without a word, Mingyu gets up onto his knees as tall as he can without standing up, to reach out and grip the material to ease it over your shoulders and down your arms. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, hands bunching the wet material by your hips as he stops to take in all the exposed skin only a few feet from his face.

“So’re you,” you reply shyly.

He smiles up at you then leans forward to press a featherlight kiss to your stomach. “This okay?” he asks in between kisses on your skin; each growing more daring than the last.

“Y–yeah,” you agree, feeling breathless already and nothing has happened yet. The tension is just so thick between you that it fills your lungs and takes up space usually reserved for oxygen.

For a moment, you worry that if you’re this breathless already with just a couple of kisses to your stomach, you will not survive actually being fucked by this beautiful man. But then his lips are suddenly on the crease of your thigh, right at the edge of the rash guard and moving inwards, and you can no longer worry about the future state of your lungs.

Mingyu quickly tugs the rash guard off of you entirely and tosses it aside carelessly once you’ve stepped out of it, leaving you in just the skimpy little bikini that leaves very little to the imagination. “Fuck,” he breathes out, leaning back to take you in from head to toe, then back again. “So, fucking beautiful, baby.”

“Mingyu,” your voice is a soft little plea as you reach towards him, for what exactly, you’re not sure; you just want something and hope he gets the hint. He does, and tilts forward to lean his cheek against your palm for a second, then plants a kiss there, tender despite the heavy moment.

“Lean back, baby,” he encourages, leading you by your hips to turn and take a step back until the edge of the desk is digging into the meat of your ass.

You grip the desk edge on either side of you as he hitches one of your legs up onto his shoulder, then lean back as his free hand tugs aside the seat of your panties to allow him to get straight to work dragging his tongue up your pussy. The noise Mingyu lets out overpowers your own; he sounds like he’s tasted the nectar of the fucking gods or something equally as divine. Hearing him so immediately into eating your pussy only makes you more aroused and attracted to him in general.

You’ve heard of men eating pussy like a man starved before, but you’ve never experienced it until now. Mingyu truly gives it his all; holds you open and drags his tongue and lips over you with desperation, and an intensity that has your legs shaking; a constant stream of moans spilling from your mouth almost in time with the grunts and needy moans vibrating through his lips against you.

“Gyu,” you breathe out, tangling the fingers of one hand in his hair and encouraging him to stay on your clit. He groans at the slight tug on his scalp and redoubles his efforts, sucking and licking at your clit hungrily.

Your eyes are closed, entirely absorbed in the toe-curling sensations this man is giving you in spades, but when his hand touches yours on his head, you open your eyes to peer at him curiously. He’s looking at you, eyes so blown with arousal that you’re very certain you leak over his chin even more.

Mingyu doesn’t stop suckling your clit between his lips in a steady pattern that has you so fucking close to a beautiful climax. It won’t be long until you fall over the edge into bliss. He removes your hand from his head and directs it between your thighs to make you curl your fingers around the seat of your bikini bottoms and hold them aside out of his way.

Then, those same fingers that had just curled your own are prodding at your entrance. He hesitates though, staring up at you for permission until you rapidly nod, and then he’s plunging two right into you, made easy from how fucking wet you are.

Just like that, an orgasm hits you so suddenly and powerfully that you don’t manage to do anything, no warning, no sound from your mouth as it rushes through your body, making your eyes roll and back arch.

Mingyu feels you clamp down around his fingers and groans deeply as his own eyes threaten to roll back despite not being close to orgasm himself. Just knowing you’re cumming because of him, because of his mouth, on his fingers; it drives him insane and makes his cock throb.

Diligently, Mingyu works you through the pleasure pulsing through you, slowing down when your hips start to twitch, and then reluctantly detaches his mouth from your clit when you nudge his head with a slightly shaky hand. Though, he doesn’t go far, and instead, pushes your thigh a little further open to give his head more space to get next to his hand between your thighs, and noisily slurp up every single drop that spills from your pussy. He even goes as far as to lick up the line that dribbled down his hand to his wrist.

“Gyu,” the call of his name makes him lift his head to look at you with wide eyes, looking so innocent despite his mouth and chin being soaked in your juices, all the way down to his throat. The sight and reminder of how hard he just made you cum has you unintentionally squeezing around the fingers still buried to the knuckles within you.

He groans, tilting forward and opening his mouth ready to make you see stars all over again, but you quickly put your hand to his head, palm to his forehead to hold him back. “Lemme eat your pussy, baby, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Most delicious pussy ever. Could eat you forever. Let me. Please?” He’s got a slight slur to his words as he speaks, voice pitched higher than normal as he begs in a tone verging on a whine.

“D–don’t you want to fuck me?” you ask, words a slight pant still, too soon from the intense orgasm to have your breath back, but you don’t care. He can steal all the breath from your lungs as long as he makes you cum like that.

“Fuck you?” he repeats dumbly. You nod, and then it’s like a switch has been flipped. All of the innocent pussy-drunk expression and voice vanishes in an instant as his eyes turn heavy-lidded, and his lips turn up into a smirk. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you, sweetheart?” His fingers in you start to move, making you jolt a little in surprise, and reach down to try and remove them. “No, no, no, you gotta take my fingers first, baby. Need to show me you can take them before I give you my cock, okay? This is such a pretty pussy; I don’t want to ruin it by giving you my cock before you’re ready.”

You can’t really say anything in response, both from his words and the way he’s skilfully moving those two fingers in you; slow but pressing in all the right ways to stretch you out and drag all ability to form anything but pathetic moans from your parted lips.

“That’s it, good, just take it. You can take it for me, right, baby?” You nod quickly at his words. “Can you take another finger?” Another nod, so he pulls his fingers out most of the way to work a third in beside them. “That’s my girl, fuck,” he breathes out, watching the way your pussy opens around his fingers as he carefully feeds the digits into you.

It doesn’t take much longer for Mingyu to pull his fingers out of you and get up to his feet. You barely have time to react before he has your hips in his hands and spins you to face the window. The sun is right in your face like this, lessened in power by the window yet still an annoyance, so you lean over all the way down onto your elbows and rest your forehead on your forearms.

“Oh,” Mingyu breathes out, watching you bend over the desk, and stops his task of shoving down his swimming shorts to free his leaking cock. “Fucking perfect,” he approves, and gives you a quick spank to watch your asscheek wobble with the impact. He hadn’t expected the moan that tumbles from your lips and pauses for a moment as he considers spanking you until your ass is raw and there are imprints of his hands left on your skin like a claim.

But then his cock twitches desperately, and he gets back to work shoving his shorts down enough and taking his thick, heavy cock into his hand to run his hand up and down the length, spreading precum over his heated skin while his free hand tugs your bikini bottoms aside.

A breathless curse spills from his lips when he aligns his cock with your dripping hole. He wants to bury himself to the hilt in your warmth right away, but he’s very aware that, frankly put, he has a giant cock, so he needs to take it slow to not hurt you.

As soon as the head pops into you, you’re moaning and trying to push back for more. Mingyu has to take a firm hold of your ass cheek and push you forward against the edge of the desk to stop you moving too fast. If you keep it up, he will fuck into you without hesitation, and he’s already trembling with the effort of holding back.

Little does he know; you want him to fucking ruin you. You want him to fuck you so hard and deep that you can’t take a step for the next few days without thinking of his cock splitting you open. But you don’t have the brain power to make your tongue move to form that specific string of syllables, so you’re forced to just remain pinned to the desk as he feeds you inch by thick inch of his cock at an almost agonisingly slow pace.

By the time his hips are pressed up against your ass, he’s shaking with his eyes squeezed tightly closed, and both hands gripping your hips so tightly you just know there will be bruises in the shape of his fingers afterwards. Bruises you’ll wear proudly.

“Fuck, baby, this fucking pussy,” he groans as you pulsate around his throbbing length.

He needs a moment; needs more than one really, with how fucking close he already is to filling you with his cum, but you press back against him as best as you can considering his grip. It’s barely any movement, but he gets the hint; you really don’t want him to wait anymore and fuck, neither does he.

Mingyu slowly pulls his hips back, sliding half of his length out of you before sliding back in in the same slow, careful manner. He’s testing the waters; the give of your pussy, and his own resolve, really. And all three give so fucking easily that the next time he pulls out, it's all the way until only his tip is tucked up safely inside of you before he thrusts forward harshly, making you cry out and scramble to brace a palm against the window above your head blindly.

“That’s it, hold on, baby,” he encourages with a heavy exhale as he adjusts his footing and hold on you, before he starts to fuck you like a man possessed.

It’s hard, and fast, and so fucking deep that he’s hitting places within you that you didn’t even fucking know existed before his cock found them. Or maybe they’re special places his cock is carving out, and no one will ever be able to access them again. No one will make your mind blank and eyes roll back so far that all you see is the mental image of Mingyu’s giant cock wrecking your pussy in the best of ways.

You’re being loud, both of you; moaning and whining with every drag of his cock through your rapidly tightening walls. But neither of you care, neither of you have the presence of mind to consider anything but the way it feels to fuck and be fucked like this.

At this point, you’re so close to another incredible orgasm that you wouldn’t even care if the door opened; you probably wouldn’t even notice, and honestly, neither would Mingyu.

When Mingyu tilts forward enough to wind a strong arm under your waist to press his palm against the flat of your chest and pull you up until your back is against his bare, sweat-dappled chest, you almost scream in pleasure at the new, somehow deeper, spot he’s grinding into.

There’s a little part of Mingyu that’s still aware that you’re in public and his place of work, even if he’s not consciously aware of it, and that part of him is the reason his hand flies up from your chest to your throat and squeezes in the exact way to cut off your airflow.

It’s the last nudge you need to hurtle into the single most mind-shattering, nirvana-inducing, orgasm of your fucking life. At least so far, because once you’re more coherent, you’ll definitely think about how much you want him to fuck you again in all sorts of ways.

A choked, cut off moan spills from Mingyu’s mouth when you clamp down around his cock so tightly as your pussy absolutely gushes around him, that it sends him over too. His hand on your hip quickly moves, sliding around over your lower stomach to wrap his arm around your waist and hold you tight as he ruts into you and fills you with his cum.

It feels fucking endless; the length of your orgasm and how much it takes out of you, even though it truly doesn’t last that long. It’s just an all-encompassing feeling that feels like utter bliss; a never-ending pulse of pleasure; pure fucking serenity.

“You okay?” Mingyu manages to breathe out once his cock has stopped twitching as your throbbing walls milk him for every drop of cum in his body. His chest is heaving against your back, matching the deep rise and fall of your own chest, even if he had released the pressure on your throat as soon as his cock started to empty in you.

You can’t respond yet; you’re not quite back on planet Earth, making Mingyu chuckle a little, fond of you already, and cocky at his own abilities to fuck you so dumb like this.

Carefully, he draws his hips back to slide out of you with a wince and hears the splatter of cum hitting the wooden boards. But that’s a problem for after he’s looked after you.

Mingyu is so fucking gentle as he grabs the towel from the desk and uses it to clean between your thighs as best as he can without removing his arm from around you to keep you propped up. Then he manoeuvres you onto the wooden chair on your right, before getting to his knees to spread your legs wide once he’s between them with his knees pressed to the floorboards.

For a few seconds, he just stares dumbly at the sight of his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy, and he almost leans in to clean you up with his mouth, but you’re already so out of it that he figures he better not. He’ll save that for next time.

Fuck, he really fucking hopes there’s a next time.

You come back to reality when Mingyu is doing his best to slide your shorts back up your legs.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets you when he notices you moving slightly and looks up to see you blinking down at him. “How you feeling?”

“Like I had the life fucked out of me,” you reply, giving him a sated, borderline dopey smile that makes him laugh. You reach out to him, and he happily leans up to let you run your hands over his shoulders and to his neck, so that you can tug him in and kiss him.

He sighs in contentment as your lips move together, slowly like you have all the time in the world. Like there’s nothing that either of you would rather be doing than this right here.

“Should’ve kissed you earlier,” he murmurs when you both naturally pull apart for air and he rests his forehead against yours. “Sorry, got carried away.”

“There’s no need to apologise, seriously, that was…” You trail off and just giggle instead, fingers playing with his hair near his nape.

“It was,” he agrees with a chuckle, and leans back to look at you. “Could we maybe do that again?”

“Now?” you baulk.

“No, not now.” He giggles. “I really can’t do that again now; I think I’ll pass out if I try to do anything like that now,” he assures, squeezing your thighs a little where his hands lay. “But another day in the future, when we’ve both recovered.”

“That sounds much more reasonable to me.”

“Reasonable, huh?” he teases, and nips at your cheek playfully, making you giggle. “And what about a date? Does that sound reasonable to you?”

“No.” Mingyu’s face drops so fast as he looks at you. He looks pretty heartbroken, honestly. “I didn’t mean no as in no to the date!” you rush to assure, cupping his cheeks, and brushing your thumbs soothingly over his skin.

He pouts and pushes into your hold. “Then what do you mean?”

“Just that it doesn’t sound reasonable but very nice and something I would definitely love to do.”

“Oh.” He turns into your palm to try and hide the cute, happy, little smile that lifts his mouth and exposes his teeth, but you feel it. He presses a kiss to your palm before facing you again, no longer hiding his smile. “Good, good; I’m glad you’d love to. I’d love to as well. Maybe after my shift ends, we can get lunch? Well, we’d have to take Vernon too, and I guess your friend, but they can entertain each other at another table.”

You giggle and nod in agreement. “Sounds perfect to me.”

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After leaving Hawaii, the three of you head straight to Japan. You get a day to adjust to the change in time and scenery before you’re due for work.

Taehyung is both excited and nervous as he walks between the two of you, holding both of your hands, ear defenders already on, and his backpack on Mingyu’s shoulder. The little boy has always wanted to see you both work, especially Mingyu; Taehyung has at least seen you take photos for various reasons, though never for work, but he’s never seen Mingyu model. Unless the man playfully posing as Taehyung takes his photo on your phone, or as they make silly faces together for selfies, counts. You’re pretty sure it doesn’t.

Thankfully, you and Mingyu have already warned everyone due on the shoot that Taehyung will be present; you both made a point of informing them that Taehyung will get overwhelmed easily, so everyone needs to give him space and keep the noise to a minimum. So, despite the room being bustling with various people rushing around to get everything ready— and many clearly looking over at the adorable little boy in a matching outfit with his dad— nobody approaches unless absolutely necessary.

Almost as soon as the three of you are at your station— where your assistant is already waiting with all of the equipment that he’s brought over from South Korea for you— the head stylist appears and urges Mingyu away. Of course, Mingyu doesn’t let himself get immediately dragged away and makes a point of kissing Taehyung’s head where the boy is sitting on a chair beside the table you’re standing at, before the man leaves to another part of the room to get ready.

“Hey, Tae,” Seokmin, your assistant says as he crouches in front of your son’s chair, while you look over the plan for the shoot and decide which camera and lens to start with. You glance over and smile softly, noticing Seokmin handing Taehyung a snack.

Seokmin is a relatively new assistant really; your previous one— the same one you had since you started fashion photography— moved on years ago when you gave up the majority of your work for the sake of your family. Seokmin came along a few years ago, when you took up a fashion job for the first time since Taehyung was born. You had needed an assistant for the first time in a while, to arrange your station and hand you whatever you ask for in order to keep the shoot moving smoothly without you having to stop work to change camera or lens whenever you need a different kind of shot.

You hadn’t been convinced Seokmin would be a good fit for you at first, he seemed very nervous, but you quickly found out that it was because he admired your work and still couldn’t believe you picked him out of all applicants to work with. But he very quickly proved himself as he locked in once the shoot started and only let his nerves show again once you declared it over.

Ever since, you’ve always reached out to him when you need an assistant. So, although you don’t work with him that much, you’ve come to know one another well. He’s even been to your house many times for work purposes, that inevitably turn into dinners and him playing with Taehyung, utterly enamoured with your son. You may be incredibly biased, but you can’t blame him at all.

“Minnie,” Taehyung replies, smiling happily at the man, and accepts the snack. “What this?”

“It’s potato sticks,” he informs, and opens the lid of the tub. “I know you like this flavour in other snacks, but it might be different, so if you don’t like it, it’s okay, I’ll finish them, or your dad will,” he jokes with a cheeky grin that makes Taehyung giggle.

As Taehyung carefully takes the first stick from the pot, you watch for his reaction. He sniffs it for a moment then nibbles on one end. He makes a thoughtful sound, then his feet start to bounce at the edge of the chair, and he eats more enthusiastically. Seokmin smiles at the clear approval and pats Taehyung’s leg before he gets up and returns to your side to discuss the plan with you.

Throughout the shoot, everyone unnecessary keeps out of the room at your say so. You know Taehyung won’t be able to sit still for long, so you want him to have the freedom to wander around to prevent him getting restless from being confined to one spot or overwhelmed by all the strangers and bustle. Though most of the time, he hovers by your side and watches in awe as you take photos of his dad, both of you moving with very little verbal direction.

Mingyu knows his best angles and how to show off the clothes and accessories on his body, and you know Mingyu and trust his understanding of his own body and lighting. Of course, Mingyu doesn’t lead the entire shoot, you do move into different positions contrary to how he poses; but he also trusts you and your creative skills and doesn’t try to adjust according to you, just continues to pose as normal and knows you’ll get incredible shots of your own accord.

When Mingyu is in his last outfit change and you’re pretty sure you’ve got everything you really need— and are just taking safety shots just in case more are needed than initially stated—, you call Taehyung over.

“Want to take some photos of daddy?” you ask, noticing Mingyu light up from the corner of your eye, especially as Taehyung nods enthusiastically.

“Clean hands first!” Taehyung declares, knowing he’s not allowed to touch your cameras unless he’s got freshly cleaned hands. Without missing a beat, Seokmin appears with wipes and helps Taehyung clean his hands.

“I’m here to assist you, Mr. Kim!” Seokmin declares, making Taehyung giggle. “Which camera and lens would you like to work with?” he offers, motioning to the table.

“Mm,” Taehyung says and toddles over, tapping his chin with his index finger thoughtfully; you can’t help but take photos of the scene, it’s so cute. “That one,” he decides, pointing to a film camera that you so rarely use, but always have ready in case the moment calls for it.

“Right away, sir,” Seokmin agrees and grabs the camera to set up and adjust the neck strap shorter before putting it around Taehyung’s neck. “There you go, it’s all ready for you.”

“Thank you!” Taehyung chirps, then bounces back to you. “I can do photos now?”

“Of course, baby. Take as many as you want and we’ll get them developed back home,” you assure. “We’ll get a photo album to put them all in too.”

“With stickers?”

“Of course!” you agree, and he grins before turning to face Mingyu, where the man is still standing and smiling dopily.

“I do photos now, daddy!” he declares.

“Yay!” Mingyu cheers, then laughs when Taehyung takes a few photos of him with his arms raised excitedly. “Anything you want me to do?”

“Mm, sit down,” Taehyung decides and Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to lower to the floor cross legged. “Like this,” Taehyung says, sitting down himself and leans his elbow on his knee, side of his head on his fist and looking forward. Mingyu giggles, finding the boy so damn adorable, but follows his directions and grins at the camera as Taehyung gets up. “No smiley, daddy.”

“Oh, sorry, baby,” Mingyu says and does his best to school his expression.

Honestly, as you stay kneeled beside Taehyung, you think he has the right idea here and lift your own camera to also take photos of Mingyu. “Eyebrow,” you direct and Mingyu’s smile melts away as his expression turns a little cocky, eyebrow lifting teasingly, exactly how you want.

“Eyebrow,” Taehyung copies mindlessly in a mumble as he takes photos.

For the following almost twenty minutes, you let Taehyung lead, and you discover that your son really has an eye for this kind of thing. Many of his directions put Mingyu in new and interesting poses that aren’t commonplace in fashion magazines, but they’re quirky in the right kind of way to be perfect for this magazine. And the poses and positions that don’t work, you add your own directions to get them into something less plain weird, and more creative and appropriate for the job.

“And I think we’ve got everything!” you declare after looking at the playback of your own photos, unable to see how Taehyung’s have turned out yet.

“That is wrap!” Taehyung exclaims after taking a final photo of his playfully posing dad. You all laugh at the boy’s words before clapping and cheering a job well done in a more subdued way than usual, for the sake of Taehyung as he’s no longer wearing ear defenders.

“It was an honour to work with you, Mr. Kim,” Seokmin says dramatically as he kneels in front of Taehyung and shakes his hand, making the boy giggle. Seokmin carefully takes the camera, and Taehyung turns and darts over to his dad, where Mingyu is still sprawled on the floor and just watching with a soft smile. “He actually seems to have a really good eye for poses,” Seokmin comments as he gets up and joins you at your station to start packing up everything he can, while you take the memory cards used and put them in the bag with your laptop ready to review the photos later.

“He does, I was surprised by that,” you admit, and glance over at your son and his dad before turning back to your task. “At this rate, I think he’s going to be good at everything he tries.”

“Oh, that reminds me, did you find him a vocal coach?”

“No, the timings don’t suit his routines, or they have no experience with neurodiverse people, especially kids, and he deserves someone who will understand him.”

“Well, I know someone who might be a good fit,” he says, making you look at him curiously. “A friend from when I was in musical theatre; he does private vocal lessons, and he has an autistic niece and nephew.”

“You were in musical theatre?” you mutter dumbly, and he nods. “You’ve never told me that! What the fuck, Seok?”

“I uh…quit,” he says with an awkward expression. “I had a really bad experience, a group of stalkers, and the director told me to just suck it up and accept it as the compliment it is. I always meant to return, but I also love photography and have followed your career since, well…you were the reason I picked up a camera, so when I got the chance to work with you, it was like a dream come true.”

You just stare at him for a moment before putting down the items in your hands and moving over to hug him. He makes a surprised noise but quickly puts down the lens in his hands to return the embrace. “I am so sorry you had to go through that; you really don’t deserve that. Nobody does, but least of all you; you’re such a pure soul, Seokmin, and I’m so honoured that I have the chance to know you and see you grow as a photographer.” Seokmin sniffles and holds you tighter, hiding in your shoulder for a few moments as he breathes carefully, trying to prevent himself from crying.

When he steps back, he wipes away the few tears on his cheeks, tip of his nose already red, and a beautiful smile on his face. “Thank you, that really means a lot to me. I’m glad to know you too, and that you trust me with your family as well. That means so much to me.”

“Mm, of course, we all love you.”

“Ah.” He puts his hands over his pink cheeks and looks away shyly. “I love you guys too.”

“I think it’s about half past food time,” Mingyu declares as he approaches, carrying Taehyung and uncaring that he’s creasing the expensive fabric of his shirt. “Joining us for dinner, Min?”

“I will never say no to spending time with you guys,” Seokmin returns, then the three males cheer while you just laugh fondly at their antics.

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Ten.Full.Minutes.

At first, it’s fond. It always is when he’s watching his sweet boyfriend. There’s something quietly endearing about how Fuma gets like this: so locked in, so unaware of everything else. His lips form a pout when focused and part slightly when things get intense, and every now and then, he makes tiny, absent sounds under his breath, reacting without even realising it.

It would be cute.

If Kei wasn’t sitting right there, next to him, completely ignored, and aching for attention.

He shifts slightly, letting his knee bump into Fuma’s.

No reaction.

Not even a glance. Even if he did feel it, he would never mind Kei bumping into him, no matter how hard. Being mad at Kei is impossible for him; he would instantly apologise, even if he was the one getting hit anyway.

Kei leans back into the couch, crossing his arms, staring at the side of Fuma’s face like maybe—maybe—if he stares hard enough, Fuma will feel it.

But no, nothing.

“Hey,” Kei says finally.

“Hm,” Fuma replies instantly.

That almost makes it worse.

Kei tilts his head. “You’ve been playing for a while.”

“Mm.”

That’s it.

No elaboration. No eye contact. Not even a break in the rhythm of his hands. Nothing but just a simple humming, meaning he definitely heard Kei speak, but didn’t register a single word.

Kei exhales slowly through his nose, jaw tightening. He uncrosses his arms, then crosses them again, shifting around on the sofa like he can’t quite get comfortable anymore, growing even more annoyed, frustrated as the second passes. He didn’t care anymore about what game he was playing or how cute he looked.

He wasn’t the type to be needy for skinship, but everything has been different ever since he met Fuma. He loved being taken care of by him more than anything, even though he was the older of the two. They love to pamper each other; it has become their thing, and right now, Kei really wants to be pampered.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks.

“Yes,” Fuma says. It was immediate, automatic.

Kei’s eyes narrow. “What did I just say?”

There’s a pause for barely half a second.

“…You’re talking,” Fuma answers, completely sincere.

Kei stares at him in disbelief, mouth slightly agape.

“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters.

Fuma hums, clearly taking it as background noise rather than criticism. It wasn’t that he was addicted to his game - which he was - but he enjoyed his gaming time.

Another minute passed by.

Kei watches the screen this time, trying to figure out what could possibly be so engaging. Something fast-paced. Bright flashes. Quick movements. Dramatic music swelling and dropping. Fuma leans forward slightly, shoulders tensing, thumbs moving faster. His entire body reacts to it.

Kei’s irritation sharpens.