writer // multi

“Come on,” your mutual friend, San, urged, “he can’t be that bad to live with.”

“It’s not that he’s bad to live with,” you explained, “I just don’t know how to take him.” San raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh come on, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what do you mean? Do you not get along?”

“That’s the thing - I don’t know.”

“How do you… not know… if someone doesn’t like you,” San asked incredulously. 

“He just,” you flailed your hands around, not quite sure how to word what you were trying to say. 

“Oh yeah, no, I completely understand. He just,” San mocked, moving his hands in a similar fashion.

You glared at your friend, who laughed and continued to sip on the milkshake sitting in front of him. “He just, locks himself in his room constantly, which is fine I mean to each their own - but whenever I try and talk to him he either acts like I just bored him so much that he lost 5 years off of his lifespan or he just blinks at me like I’m speaking another language. I don’t think he dislikes me, and I don’t dislike him, but…”

“But you just don’t know how to take him.”

“Exactly!”

“I mean have you considered that what you’re saying is either so boring that you really are depleting his life force and/or saying something so stupid that he really does think you’re talking in another language?”

“Please, for the love of everything good in the universe, please remind me why I’m friends with you?”

“Because your life would be boring without me.” San winked. “But, I do have a class starting in, about 2 minutes ago so I better get going,” he said, getting up from his seat as if he has all the time in the world, “I’ll talk to you later, sweet cheeks.” 

“Hope you don’t trip on your way!”

“I’ll do it just for you, honey bunches.” You smiled and rolled your eyes. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you checked the time and noticed that you were almost late for your daily nap, an appointment you couldn’t afford to miss at this point in the semester. You quickly picked up your bag and began the trek home.

Walking into your apartment, you hung your keys on the rack and immediately ran to your room - not in fear of seeing your roommate, but in excitement of seeing your bed. 

“Hello gorgeous,” you spoke as you flopped down onto your mattress, “I’ve missed you.”

“Do you normally talk to your bed like its your lover,” you heard a voice ask. 

You whipped around, sitting up quickly as you realized who was standing in the doorway. Your mouth hung in an ‘o’ shape, starstruck by the fact that he was even talking to you, nonetheless how casual his statement was. 

“I see I walked in on a very important milestone in your relationship, I’ll leave you to it, then,” Hongjoong said as he began to walk away.

You sat there for a few minutes after he walked away, your mind reeling. Months into your cohabitation and the first words he speaks to you are after hearing you gush over your bed. As expected, you though, I am an Idiot. 

The commotion, or lack thereof, left you thoroughly confused. So confused that your nap time had come and passed, and you were still laying on your back, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what you possibly could have done to make this man act so coldly towards you. Was it something you said when he first moved in? Were you too strict about cleanliness before even allowing him a chance to get settled? Did you unknowingly interrupt something that he was doing in his bedroom and he just held a secret grudge against you for it? Maybe he has a girlfriend and the fact that he’s rooming with you is causing problems with their relationship. Maybe San had hyped you up too much and Hongjoong found himself very disappointed in the person that he now has to live with until the end of the leasing contract. Maybe - you didn’t know. You were sure that you had given Hongjoong no reason to dislike you. Most of the cleaning that he did - he just did, without you having to ask him. The only words you’ve spoken to him are greetings when you see him around the flat or inquiring as to whether or not he would be going to some event held by your mutual friends, as far as you knew you were never harsh or short with him, but yet he looks at you like you’re some kind of alien species. 

“Whatever,” you mumble to yourself. “Let him be this way, I could be a much worse roommate.” You finally rolled out of bed, the grumbling of your stomach the only thing keeping you from just calling it a night, and head into the kitchen. Of course, who else would you see but Mr. Judgemental, as you had decided to call him, sitting at the table with his nose buried in a book while he shovels cereal into his mouth.

Hongjoong looks up for just a second, long enough to make eye contact before looking back at his book. You steeled yourself, ready to be the cold, hard bitch you had just convinced yourself that you were. You opened your mouth, ready to start a fight, when instead you asked, “Are you going to that party San and Yunho are planning?” Hongjoong shrugged, not taking his eyes off of his book. “If you decide to go maybe we could carpool, or something. Ya know, saving the environment and all.”

“I’ll let you know,” he replied abruptly, quickly putting an end to the conversation. 

“Alright,” you said awkwardly as you grab a box of cereal out of the cupboard. “Well, have a good night.” And with that you all but sprinted back into the safety of your room, only a box of cereal in hand. 

Three days later and you were still rolling in self hatred over your multiple awkward encounters with Hongjoong. However, as the party that San and Yunho promised would be an “absolute rager” started in a little less than four hours, you were bound and determined to turn your luck around.

“What I need,” you said to yourself as you walked to your closet, “is a good fuck.” 

You nodded to yourself, a small smile growing on your lips in anticipation of the possibilities that the night might hold. You moved over to your phone, pressing play on your favorite playlist and dancing across your room. The words of your favorite song fall out of your lips as you glide across the floor while, unbeknownst to you, your smile is mirrored on the face of your roommate as he stops shortly in front of your door and gazes upon your lightheartedness. 

“You’re here,” San yells excitedly as you walk through the door, throwing his arms around you in a common drunk-San manner. Hongjoong had turned down your second offer of giving him a ride to the party, explaining that he wasn’t feeling up to the party scene, except in fewer words. You wrapped your arms around your best friend, telling him of your plan for the night. 

San’s eyes lit up. “Alright then, we have work to do. Let’s go!” He grabbed your hand, pulling you to the dance floor, or the area where people seemed to be dancing. You looked warily at the people that were packed into the room, pressed against one another and spilling alcohol everywhere. “Oh stop worrying. Here, drink this.” San handed you his cup and you took a swig, your eyes watering as you struggled to swallow the disgusting liquid.

“Are you drinking straight vodka,” you asked, your throat on fire.

“No,” San yelled back, “it’s gay vodka! Have some more!”

You rolled your eyes despite the smile growing on your face, taking one more swig before handing the cup back to San. He downed the rest of the drink before grabbing your hand once more, pulling you into the throng of partygoers. 

The amazing thing about parties is that reality is never quite what it seems - what feels like hours could be only minutes, and what feels like minutes have been hours. That’s how you feel when you unlock your phone for the first time since arriving and read the time: 2:38 AM. You groan inwardly, the night was escaping you and you had yet to find someone to give you what you needed. Thinking you weren’t drunk enough, you move towards the kitchen, getting into the hidden cabinet where San hides his favorite alcohol. Forgoing a cup, you pour the equivalent of at least 5 shots of vodka right down your throat and turn back to the crowd. 

You weren’t sure when it started, but all you were aware of was someone’s lips drunkenly crashing into your own. You opened your eyes slightly, wondering if you had somehow made a grave mistake and wound up kissing San. The good news: you weren’t kissing San. The bad news: you definitely recognized the man who was feverishly kissing you, but you couldn’t place from where. Knowing you were too drunk to think properly, you threw yourself back into the kiss - wrapping your arms around the stranger’s neck and pulling him closer to you. 

He pressed his body up against yours, pinning you to the wall as his hands moved to grab hold of your hips and pull them to his own. Your breath hitched as you felt his length against you, the anticipation of what was to come slowly pulling you out of your drunken stupor. His hands were desperate as they ran up your sides, and yours found themselves entangled in his hair. 

As the kiss grew in intensity, you found yourself searching for some type of friction, and rolled your hips against his in your search. A strangled groan escaped him as he pushed you back against the wall, his lips moving to your neck and leaving wet kisses down your skin. You reached down, placing your hand against his growing bulge and stroking his length through his jeans.

Another broken groan escaped his mouth as he whispered in your ear, “Two can play at that game.” You felt his hands slide down the sides of your thighs before moving towards your heat. The man, whose identity you still were not sure of, pushed your skirt up onto your stomach, revealing the lacy underwear that you had worn for this exact occasion. He moved his head from the crook of your neck, where it had fallen as you continued to try and rub him through his jeans, as he looked down at you. “Delicious.”

Your eyes shot open at his words, and you quickly looked down at his jeans. Your hands flew to the button, desperate to rid him of the material when you felt his fingers gently ghost over you. You bit your lip in frustration as your eyes fluttered shut once more, and you heard the man laugh breathily. “I wish I could see you like this all the time,” he whispered in your ear as he lightly traced his fingers along your thighs, inching closer to where you were desperate to have him touch, but not getting close enough. “You look so adorable all desperate and worked up, I wouldn’t mind seeing this every day.” 

Having enough of his teasing, your hand flew back to his hardened bulge, his pants unbuttoned but unmoved. You pushed his pants down his hips just enough to slip your hand into his boxers. He gasped loudly as you made contact with his throbbing member, and his fingers immediately pushed aside the barely-fabric of your panties and his thumb began rubbing circles onto your clit. Your eyes rolled back as he pushed a finger into you, his thumb never stopping. Your hand, which had started to haphazardly jerk him off, stuttered as your knees grew weak. 

“If I knew it was this easy to get you wet I would have done this ages ago baby girl,” the man groaned, his voice hitching every few words due to your actions on his length. He pushed another finger into you, and a deep moan left your mouth. Your free hand wrapped around the man’s shoulders, pulling him closer to you. 

“Do you like that?” You nodded quickly, biting your lip to keep endless moans from spilling out. “No, no, no. Let me hear you.” He moved his free hand up to your mouth and pulled your lip from between your teeth, before pressing his lips against yours. He began moving his hand faster to match your rhythm and he drank up every single noise you made. 

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight. Let’s just go home, hmm?” 

It was then that you realized, you recognized that voice. Your eyes flew open as you went to confirm your suspicions and suddenly wished it was San that you were kissing. There, with his fingers still working magic inside of you, and your hand still jerking him off, was Kim Hongjoong.

To say that the next week was tense would be an understatement. I mean, you regained your bearings in your best friends bathroom with your hands down your roommate’s pants and his down yours. And you didn’t even get to orgasm! You both tried to avoid each other as much as possible - which wasn’t an unusual thing for the household, but now under much different circumstances.

It was going into the second week of avoidance when you finally lost your patience. You walked into the kitchen, wanting an actual meal after days of eating nothing but snacks in an effort to stay locked in your room as much as possible, and saw Hongjoong standing at the counter, preparing his own food. You quickly turned around, ready to head back to your room, when you changed your mind. 

“No,” you said.

“No?” Hongjoong’s voice sounded utterly uninterested, but still teasing.

“No. This is my apartment, too. I’m not going to hide in my room until the lease is up just because you decided to shove your hands down my pants.” You turned and opened a cabinet, studying its contents.

“I did what?” Hongjoong turned towards you, looking at you like you were insane. “As far as I remember, I was just kissing you until you decided to start… to start rubbing on me!”

“Fuck you, I was drunk! I didn’t know what I was doing!”

“You think I wasn’t?”

“How the fuck should I know? I’m not your fucking nanny. And from the way you were moving I’m pretty sure you did know what the fuck you were doing.” After realizing what you just said, and pretty much admitting that Hongjoong was the source of the best fingering you had ever received, you felt your face heat up.

“I-” Hongjoong started, his mouth opening, and closing, as he struggled to find what to say in response. “I genuinely don’t even know how to respond to that.”

“Good, then just shut the fuck up!”

“I don’t know what kind of fucked up victim complex you have going on here, but like you said, I live here, too. I’m not going to put up with you yelling at me like I’m a child just because you’re frustrated that I could’ve given you the best orgasm of your life and you decided to freak out instead. Maybe you should go buy a vibrator or something, I hear their good for people who enjoy the sticks up their asses.”

“Speaking of asses,” you said, turning to face him. “You can kiss mine.”

“Fuck you. I will.”

“Fine.” You didn’t realize how close you had gotten, until you could feel his breath fan over your face. He looked down at you, not a sign of any emotion on his face, before grabbing your cheeks in his hands and pressing his lips against yours. You froze, unsure of how to react to the situation. After a few milliseconds of internal debate, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed back. Hongjoong pushed you against the counter, his arms wrapping around you and trying to bring you as close to his body as he possibly could. It was minutes before you finally broke apart, the need for air outweighing the feeling of the kiss. 

“You know,” he whispered against your lips, “that was the stupidest fight I’ve ever had with anybody.”

You laughed airily before nodding your head in agreement. “You know, in the past 30 minutes you’ve spoken more to me than you have since you moved in. I really thought you hated me.”

He pulled his head away from you to look down at you incredulously. “I never hated you. Honestly, I’ve always thought you were so beautiful, from the day that San introduced us a couple days before I moved in. But you had a guy over the day after I moved in, so I took that as your way of saying that you wouldn’t want anything to do with me, and that I was just here to split the bills.”

It was your turn to look up at Hongjoong with disbelief written in your eyes. “So you’re telling me this entire time I could’ve been having amazing orgasms and not feeling awkward in my own home if I would’ve just clarified that I wasn’t implying anything with that one night stand?”

“Well, the blame is partially mine, too. I was definitely being oversensitive, there was no reason for me to act the way I have these past couple of months. But-”

“But?”

“But, I’m not a ‘no strings attached’ kind of person.”

“What do you mean?”

“Either you get the annoying, clingy side of me along with the amazing orgasms, or none of it.”

“Well,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind that 2-for-1 deal.”

Hongjoong smiled down at you before picking you up and carrying you to your room. “Now,” he began, “how about I give you that fuck you’ve been needing?”

Your face immediately warmed. “You heard me?”