Jeonghan holds his breath as he stands next to you at the foot of the bed, singular, praying you won’t yell at him.

“Jeonghan,” you begin placidly, “Why is there only one bed? I thought you were requesting two.”

Oh fuck, he’s in trouble.

“Umm, so, the thing is,” he starts, “the Honeymoon Suite only comes with one bed, and I thought it would be too suspicious to ask for a cot, so I thought we could just… share?”

You nod, biting your lips between your teeth and heaving your suitcase up onto the coverlet.

Jeonghan just stands there, unsure of what to do with your non-reaction, and waits for the scolding to start.

You glance at him, unzipping your suitcase and starting to unpack, seemingly confused as to why he’s not doing the same.

“Can I have the window side? And most of the closet?” you ask absentmindedly, sorting through your outfits and laying out what needs to be hung.

Jeonghan nods slowly, his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out your game. You’re already in the closet, grabbing hangers and trying to organize your clothes into day and nightwear so Jeonghan starts unpacking too, still suspicious of your lack of anger.

He really expected more of a reaction, considering you have a weird thing about being close to him. It’s not that you don’t like touching, because all of your friends are lovey-dovey with you, and it’s not that you don’t like him, because he’s your best friend. It’s just that you don’t like when he touches you, or stands close to you, or slings an arm around your shoulders, or weaves his arm through the loop yours makes when your hand is in your pocket.

It used to hurt his feelings, and it honestly still stings a bit, but maybe you’ve made some progress if you’re okay sharing a bed with him?

Jeonghan doesn’t know, but he does know that the dresses you’re hanging up are ones he’s never seen before, made of silk and velvet and satin, greens and purples and reds that will look beautiful with your complexion.

You’ve always dressed for yourself, but these are far from your usual style and he wonders where and when you got them, and why he’s never seen them on you before.

He’s not naive enough to think they’re for him, and figures you must have gone on a little spree after he told you of his plan.

You’d thought he was kidding when he brought it up, pretending to be newlyweds so you could get a room upgrade, but it seemed foolproof to him, and completely worth it. You took some warming up, nervous about how convincing you could be, and he fears you’re still not completely on board.

He can’t blame you, it’s a bit risky and slightly dishonest and you’ll have to pretend to be a couple in the hotel, but you’re best friends, how hard can it be?

Very hard, apparently.

Jeonghan’s not used to you being so touchy, so handsy, with him, and he has to hold in a shiver every time your hand brushes his arm at the concierge desk. You’re working out dinner reservations, beach bag leaning against the desk and skin smelling faintly of sunscreen, your melodic voice kindly asking for recommendations in town. Jeonghan practices deep breathing at your side, wondering why he’s suddenly so aware of you, and tries not to gasp when you lean your head into his shoulder and tell the employee that he has a few dietary issues the staff should be aware of.

Jeonghan’s shocked you’re taking charge like this, usually you let him make the decisions and do the talking, but it’s like you’re different here.

You look different too, radiant and glowing and stylish in your travel set, and when you tug him away from the desk, he realizes he’d zoned out staring at you.

He does that sometimes, looks at you and lets his mind run, so you don’t question it, just pull him by the hand through the lobby and stop in front of the beach trolley line.

It’s a beautiful day, and Jeonghan can’t wait to get to the water.

He doubts you’ll join him; you’ll probably stay under the umbrella and read your book like always, and he’ll go out to the waves for a while and come back to shake his hair out right next to you just to hear your squeal at the cold water hitting your skin. It’s a tradition he’s kept up since your first beach day, only then he’d brought a whole bucket of sea water to pour over you.

It didn’t go well, and he spent the rest of the day trying to get you to smile at him again.

Buying you ice cream was what did the trick, and ever since then it’s been his go to fix for whenever he fucks up.

The trolley pulls up and Jeonghan lets you board first, taking the bag from you and storing it overhead before plopping down next to you with a sigh.

He already feels a bit tired and considers for once staying with you under the umbrella, wonders if you’d be willing to read to him and maybe run your fingers through his hair like you do sometimes when he’s sad.

He’s not sad now, but it’s so soothing and it’s one of the few ways you let him get close to you, and he can’t think of anything better than your voice in his ears and your fingers in his hair with the sound of waves crashing in the background.

The trolley bounces over a pothole and he bumps sideways into you, noticing for the first time the lack of seatbelts and wrapping his arm around your shoulders to hold you secure to him. Oddly enough, you allow it and even lean into his side, resting your head in the crook of his neck and sighing.

Jeonghan can feel your eyelashes flutter against his skin and something else flutters in his stomach, something warm and unfamiliar. He doesn’t hate the feeling but he can’t say he loves it, and he would try to figure out the source if the trolley wasn’t currently pulling up to the beach club. The water looks so inviting, clear and blue and beautiful, and the beach is dotted with umbrellas and loungers, employees with drink trays weaving in and out of the clusters of guests.

Jeonghan shoots up out of his seat, jostling you, and apologizes with gentle hands and a grimace before lifting the bag from the overhead storage and grabbing your hand to tug you off the trolley.

You allow it, giggling at how he speeds up once his shoes touch sand, and that weird fluttering starts up again. Jeonghan ignores it, decides it’s just not important right now, and pulls you to what he deems the best lounger duo on all the beach.

You’re dozing under the umbrella when Jeonghan returns from the water. He considers waking you up with his traditional wet dog shake, but you look too peaceful, too content. Your head’s tilted to the side, open book resting on your chest, and your knees are pulled up like you’d tried to curl up on the lounger. He wonders if you’re cold, then sees your form shiver a bit when another ocean breeze brushes over your skin so he unrolls his towel and gently drapes it over you. A sigh escapes you and you turn to the side, your book starting to shift off your chest before Jeonghan catches it and slides your bookmark in, storing it safely in the beach bag for when you wake up. He knows he could go back out to the water, but for some reason he feels weird thinking about leaving you alone and asleep in an unfamiliar place, so he settles in for his own nap, letting his eyes fall closed and ignoring the way he can’t seem to turn his head away from you.

Jeonghan is starving when he wakes up, and suspiciously warm. He opens his eyes to find himself covered by the towel and you missing, and he frantically swivels his eyes over the shore, knowing he won’t find you in the water but fearing it nonetheless. You’re nowhere to be seen, and he stumbles off the chair and out from under the umbrella to search the beach, his hair blowing in the wind as he turns in a slow circle. He can’t seem to find you, and he’s starting to get worried.

It’s not like you to wander off, especially without him, and he knows nothing bad has happened to you, but what if it did? What if something bad did happen, and Jeonghan was asleep and he couldn’t protect you and now you’re hurt and alone and probably scared and there’s nothing he can do? He’s trying not to spiral, but it’s hard when you’ve disappeared like this, and it only gets worse when he rifles through the beach bag to get his phone and finds yours instead.

You take your phone everywhere, and it only increases his worry to know that you don’t have it now and that you have no way to contact him if you need help.

He’s wondering if he should call the police when you appear from behind the umbrella, your hands occupied with coconuts.

Jeonghan could throttle you, but he could also gather you up tight in his arms and never let you go, so he settles for a good scolding, just like you taught him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? I woke up and you were gone, and you didn’t take your phone, and we’re on an island we’ve never been to, and I was so worried!”

Okay, so maybe not quite a scolding but he thinks he got his point across.

You raise an eyebrow, holding out his drink and waiting for him to take it before settling back down on the lounger, digging through the bag to find your book.

“Jeonghan,” you begin, and already he knows you’re going to admonish him, “You were asleep, I didn’t want to wake you up, and I’m an adult. I’m capable of going five minutes up the beach to get us drinks.”

He sighs, knowing you’re right but also knowing he can’t admit it, so he takes a sip of his drink instead and begrudgingly thanks you for going to get them.

You sit in silence for a while, slowly downing the cocktails and taking in the soothing sounds of the waves, until Jeonghan feels his stomach rumble and disturb the peace.

“Lunch?” he asks tentatively.

It had taken some walking but finally, you approach a streetside bistro that Jeonghan believes is worthy of you.

You’d been happy with the four you’d passed on the way here, but Jeonghan was starting to feel a bit bad he’d locked you into pretending to be married to him so he wanted to find the best for you. This one looks really authentic, blue and white awnings and lemons everywhere, signs in Italian boasting the best carbonara on the coast and a chef making pasta in the front window. He thinks he recognizes the name from the travel blogs he’d followed in preparation for the trip and gleefully informs the host you’d like a table for two in carefully practiced Italian, much to your obvious surprise.

Jeonghan may or may not have been secretly learning the basics of the language since you’d brought up this location, through videos, free textbooks, and a trial of Rosetta Stone that he canceled before the charge went through on his card. You’re walking ahead of him as you follow the host to your table so he can’t tell if you’re impressed, but he really hopes you are.

Lately there’s been a separation between you and him, different from the distance you’ve always kept. He’s not sure if he did something wrong or if you’re going through something and not ready to tell him, but he misses you.

Fuck, Jeonghan misses you and that’s why this trip needs to go perfectly.

The carbonara was incredible, as was the limoncello the server brought over after the meal, the both of you downing one shot and then sipping another before paying the bill and starting to meander about town.

There are small shops everywhere, filled with clothing and ceramics and knick knacks, and Jeonghan doesn’t even try to fake annoyance at you pulling him into every single one. You spend the afternoon excitedly pointing at things you think he’d like, begging him to buy at least one with puppy eyes and a quivering bottom lip. He settles on a tiny lemon pitcher, barely large enough to hold a shot of limoncello but so cute he just couldn’t resist. He also couldn’t resist buying you a matching one, clinking them together in a cheers motion before the employee wrapped them up in paper and handed them over in a small gift bag.

You seem more at ease and Jeonghan feels himself loosen up as well, his moods almost always reflecting your own. It’s not something he does on purpose, he just seems to unconsciously shift to match your wavelength. It feels like something in him is always reaching out to you, wanting to be close even as you keep your distance.

He tries not to think about it too much, how different you’ve been, but your behavior so far contrasts sharply with how you are at home. Here, you hold his gaze, laugh at his jokes, lean into his touch instead of flinching away.

Jeonghan almost doesn’t know what to do with himself, torn between the urge to find out what’s changed and the fear that if he says anything you’ll close up again. It takes little to no time for him to decide not to question it - he enjoys this version of you too much to risk disrupting the fragile ease you have with him now.

It’s easier to interact with you once the decision is made, easier to throw an arm around your shoulders and tug you back to the trolley, to hold your hand tight as you walk through the lobby, to pull you into his arms in the elevator when he notices the other occupant staring a bit too closely at you.

Even easier is falling into bed next to you for an afternoon nap, minds fuzzy from limoncello and bodies heavy from delicious food and a day spent in the sun. Your breathing evens out just as Jeonghan’s eyes flutter closed, the distant roar of waves crashing onto cliffs swallowing his sigh and settling his nerves enough for him to reach out across the sheets and link his pinky finger with yours, inching just a bit closer before letting sleep overtake him.

The sun is setting when Jeonghan jerks awake, the incessant buzzing of a phone making his face scrunch and an irritated groan bubble up in his chest. He'd been sleeping so soundly, dreaming of something beautiful enough to reignite the strange feeling in his stomach. He can't remember what it was but he wonders if it might have something to do with the way you're sprawled over him, your leg hooked around the inside of his and your head resting on his chest.

You haven't been this close to him in ages and he can feel his heart speeding up, feel it thumping against his ribs as you stir, your cheek rubbing against his pec and your fingers clenching in his shirt. He can't reach your phone without disturbing you but you'll wake up anyway if it keeps going off, and he remembers in the back of his mind that you'd made dinner reservations.

You'll be upset if you miss them, both because you think it's rude and because you're excited for the menu, so he gently nudges you off of his body and reaches over you to grab at your phone.

His eyes widen when he sees the time, not realizing just how long of an afternoon nap you'd taken. It's nearing 6:30 so you have just enough time to get ready and grab a cab, and Jeonghan brushes a hand over your head, letting his thumb trace your brow bone until your eyes blink open.

You look adorable, sleepy and confused and a bit annoyed at being woken up, but your face clears when he shows you the clock.

"I totally forgot about dinner," you laugh, your voice still a bit raspy with sleep and sending a shiver down Jeonghan's spine.

That was weird, he thinks, but the thought doesn't linger as he slides off the bed with you, walking over to the closet and waiting for you to pick out your outfit so he can coordinate his shirt.

Jeonghan joins you at the large mirror across from the bed, fixing his hair as you swipe on some mascara, and tries not to think about how good you look together.

He supposes it's beneficial for the plan, but that odd feeling is back and it only grows when you pull on your heels and reach a hand out to him. He's tangled his fingers with yours before the thought to do so even enters his mind, and he follows as you lead him from the suite and toward the elevator. He can feel how fondly he's staring at you as you excitedly babble about the different dishes the restaurant is known for, and Jeonghan wonders if he should worry about how easy it is to pretend to be in love with you.

Jeonghan's still holding your hand as you stumble back to the hotel, your lips tinged with red wine and drawing his gaze. You glow in the weak golden streetlights, your heels clicking on cobblestones and your sweet voice ringing out into the streets. The food was life-changing, linguine tossed in half a wheel of flaming parmesan and topped with freshly shaved truffle, and he pats his full stomach with his free hand, the look on your face as they lit the cheese on fire still at the forefront of his mind.

He hasn't seen you that giddy in months, hasn't felt the shine of your eyes on him or gotten to marvel at the way your cheeks push up the outer corners of your eyes in just as long, and Jeonghan is doing his best to soak it all in. He loves seeing you so happy, so carefree, and somewhere in the back of his alcohol addled mind, he realizes he wouldn't mind being married to you for real if it meant he could keep you like this.

Shaking his head, Jeonghan dislodges the thought and shoves it into a box in the dark corner of his brain, ignoring the way it rattles against the cardboard every time he looks at you. He needs to stop overanalyzing and start enjoying this trip for what it is: two best friends pretending to husband and wife in a completely platonic manner.

And if every step closer to the hotel makes his feelings a bit less platonic, he'll just keep that to himself.

AN: oof from the bottom of my heart, my bad for taking a month to release chapter one 😭😭 i’ve had some major writers block and also really fun things going on in my life and it’s been hard to sit down and write lately but today things were flowing so yay!!

on the taglist form, the poll is mostly split in half so im just going to post as i finish chapters and you can decide if you want to wait or not 💖

im not sure what i’ll release next as i’m working on a commission right now, but i am deep in my ateez feels from their concerts so i’ll likely write for them 💖 i’m hoping to release something else tonight so keep an eye out!

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the eighth wonder of the world is sleeping next to him without a care, and his heart skips around his ribcage like a lovesick teenager. greediness be damned, he’d keep you to himself if he could, but he keeps thoughts like those tucked away . (never mind the fact that the thought of you smiling at strangers the way you smile at him irks a part of him he didn’t even know existed.)

you stir, ridding him of those thoughts, and he holds his breath.

slowly, your eyes open, and he watches as you gather your bearings. your hand finds his before you even utter a single word, unconsciously searching for him.

no, he’s not mentally kicking his feet. shut up.

your good morning is questioning, brows furrowed as you try to guess the time, and his answering it’s five in the afternoon makes you bury your face in his shoulder and laugh.

he hopes you don’t hear how fast his heart still beats at your proximity. you’ve been together for almost three years, and friends three times longer, but fuck if you don’t make him question everything. he’s gone, dove head first into love with his eyes closed and his arms open wide.

you toy with the rings on his fingers. a habit you haven’t quit long since you’ve been friends. he briefly wonders if you’d toy with a wedding ring the same way.

murphy’s law (soulmate)

𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙟𝙤𝙤𝙣𝙜;

project: omen (hybrid)

𝙨𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙬𝙖;

liminal spaces (mythology)

𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙝𝙤;

dick the halls ft. mingi (smut)

𝙮𝙚𝙤𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙜;

jingle balls (smut)

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞;

oh holey night (smut)

dick the halls ft. yunho (smut)

holloway

𝙨𝙖𝙣;

𝙬𝙤𝙤𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜;

project: omen (hybrid au)

𝙟𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙤;

baby, it’s cold outside (smut)