You're in love with your coworker Hongjoong. Sort of. Not really. But, you like him, and your friends, San, Jongho, and Yunho, they hate him. They really hate him. He lives in a constant repetitive pursuit of stringing you along just to drop you all over again. When a company gala is announced, you're certain he'll ask you... Until you catch him with another girl. Again. Summer in the city, your friends form a plan, a fake boyfriend plan to make Hongjoong jealous, leaving you and Yunho to trudge around Manhattan under the sun to make it believable. Unspoken boundaries set in place six years ago get tested. Are you making it out of this with your best friend?
ââ´ď¸Ë・â yunho x fem!reader - {30.8k words} don't read the warnings if you don't want spoilers! fake dating, idiots friends to lovers, enormous sweet tooth rotting plot, explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, cussing, dirty talk, some of these guys are kind of mean at work, yunho's a sweetie, san and jongho are funny, smut warnings; p in v, oral if you squint, biting, spit if you squint, dom!jyh, cum inside, nip play, accidental exhibitionism, unprotected (do not do!)
ââ´ď¸Ë・â happy valentines day mon! âż it's me, your secret valentine fic giver! i had so much fun writing this piece, and i had so much fun secretly learning about you (totally not creepy). you inspire originality, and i hope i conveyed a tiny bit of what you inspire others to invoke within themselves. you're so cool! (you'll get this after you read hehe). i'm so grateful to have become moots, friends, and to experience your art, your writing. you're truly an artist, and you bring so much joy here to the tumble community, i hope you never forget how loved and wanted you are here! hugs & kisses cool kid âż @03jyh23 thank you @everyonewooeverywhere for putting this event together âż âż this is also a love letter to my favorite series created by my best friend @minkieater âż the city holds a very special place in my heart for a plethora of reasons i'll take up too much text space trying to explain. some of her characters pop up here, please go check out their story! i highly recommend it and all of it's mini spin off shotties. ily, t.
yun: JUST CAME ON.. I think the lady next to me on the subway can hear it âcause I turned it up all the way and she gave me this crazy look.. This music though.. Maybe itâll help you feel better about your meeting.. Good luckâŚâŚâŚ See you at Danteâs later
*yun sent a song*
[ I Melt with You - Modern English ]
Finishing your hair in the foot long mirror above your bathroom sink, you tapped on the song with your pinky and tucked one more pin into the bun on your head. Whimsey filled the quiet where the only sound to be heard was the lullaby of the city outside of the cracked bathroom window. Open barely three inches, as far as it allowed, fresh summer air blew in with the pop of a siren, a car horn, people chattering below on the streets, above on their balcony.
Wiping your fingers under your eyes, settling on light makeup for the work day, your hips rocked to the beat, a poppy type song dipped in something angsty, teenage rebellion. Youâve heard this before, in some movie, you think, the two of you probably watched at some point which is how it came to circle through his music library.
A song for every mood, a song for every occasion, a song no matter the cause- Yunho had one for everything. You could see him now, headphones covering his ears, wrapping over his head, the wire tangling with his leather bag that hung over his shoulder and sat on his lap, a bag too frail and too old, but one he wonât rid of because itâs from the seventies.
Listen, Shug, you donât get itâŚ
He worked downtown at a record store part time when he wasnât on the clock and running errands for his big named producer boss, Jag, the coolest, the raddest, most amazing Jag. After sorting records and analyzing set lists for local bands big and small, Yunho answered Jagâs calls, his messages, his damn pages, and disappeared for a few hours, returning with insane lore drops on the latest albums close to release, and who he caught kissing who in the lounge of Republic Records.
Capping the mascara tube, twisting it shut, you blinked at yourself in the mirror just as old as Yunhoâs bag and groaned. Pursing your lips, longing to paint on a fun color, one the company you worked for wouldnât allow, you took a deep breath and blew a raspberry.
Yunho could wear whatever he wanted. Yunho could dress like himself, he could wear the patterned sweaters you thrifted together, the crappy sneakers heâs certain John Lennon owned, ripped denim, silky slacks, he could wear it all and accessorize the crap out of himself. Earrings, layered necklaces, leather or braided bracelets, unique glasses changing each day, a hat or two somewhere in the rotation.
Trudging into your bedroom, not even two feet from the bathroom door, you reached into your shoebox of a closet and pulled out a grey pantsuit, one that hugged you in all the right places but killed the part of you that longed to wrap yourself in color.
Bopping your head to the song that repeated from the edge of the bathroom sink, you hummed along to the lyrics you half knew while you dressed yourself, ignoring the belts hanging around the bed post, or the funky sunglasses you bought several pairs of from a street festival last summer with Yunho and San.Â
Grey corduroy slacks, a white button down, and a grey vest concealing your chest. Fastening each button, securing the details in place, not that there were many, you twisted side to side in the full-length mirror you found on the street leaning against a mailbox, one San hung up for you, and loosed a breath.
âYouâve seen the difference and itâs getting better all the time,â you sang to yourself, quietly, not wanting your neighbor to bang on his wall again, and picked up your phone.Â
Tapping out a message, letting your knees bounce to the music, a smile pricked onto your bare lips.
you: I know this song??? How am I singing this right now???
yun: It was in Valley Girl
Giving yourself a look in the mirror, you rolled your eyes and typed back.
you: That movie sucked, Yunho
He answered quick.
yun: âCause you donât have taste, Shug
you: I know the song!!!!!!
yun: Doesnât count, you hate Valley Girl, grow a pair and watch it again, this time weâll drink, then youâll love it..
Pocketing your phone, the clock up in the corner taunting you as it ticked down to the minute you had to part with your sanctuary, you slipped into black heels two inches tall and slung your work appropriate purse over your shoulder, one that matched the olive of another suit you couldâve worn, the only color theyâve allowed you to toy with.
âThereâs nothing you and I wonât do,â you sang, pulling a lip gloss from the pocket on the side, slicking it on while you bounced a bit more. Capping it, feeling your phone vibrate, you exchanged the lip gloss for your cell.
yun: Did it help.. The song..
Your smile grew.
you: Yes⌠it did, thank you
yun: :) :) :) :) :) :) the futureâs open wide
A giggle escaped you, reading the lyrics he sent just as they came out of your phone. Swiping out of open apps, you silenced your phone and popped it back into your pocket. Sucking in a deep breath, the slightest bit of nerves making themselves known in your stomach, you hummed to yourself, the song heâd sent, the one you just shut off.Â
Every morning song heâs sent you, youâve had to turn it off before leaving the apartment, to not disturb your neighbors, to not be a nuisance on the street though every corner came with at least three. You tucked him into your pocket, with your cell phone, with the song, and you became someone else entirely, someone he didnât know, someone he didnât get to see. A girl who wouldnât listen to the songs he sent, and certainly not a girl who would enjoy them.
You became one heâd look at. One that heâd shoot subtle smirks at when the boss tripped over a word or two. A girl that laughed at every joke he told, even if it fell flat with whoever else stood around you. Hongjoong, he worked in the office beside yours, an assistant to a manager who worked beside a manager you assisted. Too often, since starting, the two of you had been assigned the same task at the same time. A coffee run, a folder to file, an exchange of documents for the othersâ boss to look over.
From day one, Hongjoong in black, his slicked back hair, his perfectly pristine suits ironed and hung daily⌠You liked him. With his shoulders rolled backward, his posture uptight, he oozed charisma, a confidence that would certainly skyrocket him forward in no time. Graduating from NYU, pursuing post-grad degrees, some you didnât understand, he walked and talked with a gust incomparable to most. A boss. A leader. The type of guy to lower his brows, soften his eyes, give you a reassuring smile and shake of the shoulder, and suddenly youâd feel as though you could take on the world as well.Â
Career wise, you knew itâd be best to keep him on your side, howeverâŚ
With the mess of time and endless hours you spent together, you didnât account that falling for the guy would ever become a possibility.
Yet here you were, wearing pantsuits you had to take a loan out to afford, and pinning your hair back in ways youâve only seen older women in movies pull off. Another corporate daisy in the garden that was the office he frolicked about, dancing his fingers over the edges, the petals of each one, appeasing them all with that god damned wicked smile that came out with a wink.Â
Accidentally. Sometimes. You think. You hoped.
He drank champagne at corporate parties. A pocket watch hung from his slacks, and heâd sling his jacket over his shoulder to reveal what heâd been wearing was a tailored three piece he copped from Rodeo on vacation with his sister and her car company owning husband. With a pinky in the air he laughed in singular syllables as the department heads cracked their jokes you didnât understand, most likely a guy thing, and he made sure to compliment every woman that breezed past him.
The kind of girls that had legs miles long, hair blown out and bouncing at their shoulders or below, low cut dresses front and back, diamonds dripping in the plunges front and back. Theyâd give a tight lipped smile, one youâve practiced in the mirror before feeling utterly ridiculous, and heâd end up coercing one into the back of a car with a driver provided by the company. A car you arrived in together. A car youâve never been the girl to go home in after the party was over.
Youâd catch a cab, tipsy and groveling, and meet up with Yunho and San at Dante NYC, your favorite bar on MacDougal, the street of all things food and drinks. The owner knew the three of you, youâve frequented Danteâs since your days at Columbia, escaping back down to the Village once the classes in Harlem were through.
Small, as places in the city were, Danteâs had a vibe none other could replicate. Tiny plates of just enough food to each order on your own and pass around to share, bartenders on shift before they scurried off to audition for a Broadway show that worked and lived for tips, offering heavy pours if you offered up your cash, an old Italian energy, a type of culture that Manhattan yearned to hold onto. Itâs where you were off to tonight, Yunho and San in attendance, along with Jongho, another co-worker of yours, if you could convince him.Â
One of the last times he ended up at Danteâs with you three he drank his body weight in whiskey and sang a Celine Dion duet with the bartender, stripping down to his undershirt beneath his button down. San has the videos to prove it, and he isnât afraid to use them if Jongho is acting snippy in the groupchat.Â
Youâd be there in mere hours, drinking and singing along to the music Yunho would be in charge of, ordering plate after plate of whatever the chef felt like cooking up, hanging off of Sanâs broad shoulders and groaning about your boss with Jongho. You just had to make it through this mandatory meeting your entire branch was required to attend.
Slipping into a cab headed uptown, city sights whizzing by the window in the blink of an eye, youâre dropped off in front of a skyscraper, one unlabeled, but drilling into the fluffy summer clouds. Swiping your card, bidding your driver a good day, you stepped onto the concrete and smoothed out your shirt. Just as you were headed to grab the golden door handle that stretched across half the glass, a beefy bicep hooked into your elbow and yanked you backward.
âLadies should never open the door for themselves,â his melodic voice tickled your skin.
Shooting him a tight smile, a slight roll of your eyes, you met his milk chocolate gaze and said, âJongho, you are much too kind.â
Pulling the door open for you, he leaned down to mutter, âJust showing you how a gentleman should act towards a lady.â Guiding you inside, he ushered you through the lobby, throwing an inconspicuous wave toward the receptionist youâre pretty sure heâs slept with. âHolding doors, never letting them navigate uncharted territory on their own.â
âPretty sure Iâve worked here for two and a half years,â you giggled, nodding toward a group of employees chatting by the elevators.Â
Heels clicking on the tiled floor, the sound echoing up into the tall ceilings carved with marble and painted like the sistine chapel, you took in everyone's appearance, them having done pretty much the same as you, taking themselves a bit more seriously this morning.
âThis meeting is uncharted territory,â you mumbled, meeting eyes with a few colleagues plagued with tunnel vision. Jongho sighed, glancing about the room.
âI havenât seen anyone this paranoid since- Ah! Mr. Song,â he cut himself off as the two of you turned a corner, running into a man in a tuxedo fit for a royal wedding. Bending in half some, a bow of sorts, you panicked and copied him, having no idea how to act in front of the man who traveled across the country to speak with your company.
Mr. Song gave you both a light smile, acknowledging the way Jongho held onto you, the way he escorted you through the building. Giving him a short look, one with a bit of pride, he said, âGood morning. Iâll see you soon.â
Jongho beamed. âPrompt as usual, Mr. Song.â
The older man flickered his gaze toward you, his eyes glazing over your body, ending on your hair. His smile had somewhat faded, and he didnât give you as much as a sigh before he turned to continue his pursuit over the tile.
Scoffing to yourself, so Jongho could hear you, you shot him a glare as he slipped his arm out of yours. âDid you know he was going to be down here?â He nibbled the insides of his cheeks. âYou asshole, you used me.â Situating your purse over your shoulder, you shoved him like a child and bounded ahead of him, straight for the stairs.
âHey,â he spat, hurrying after you. Long strides brought you far, but he was quicker, catching onto the strap of your purse with the curl of a finger. âHey, Shug,â he teased, pulling you to a complete stop.
Whirling around, you narrowed your eyes. âYou canât call me that.â
He smiled. âWhatâs it even mean? Iâve listened to him call you that for a year.â
Shrugging, you jiggled your head around. âShug, like sugar, I dunno, you know him, itâs vintage,â you drug out in a deep voice to mimic Yunhoâs.
Jongho eyed you curiously, how you fidgeted with your bag, how you glanced around like you were sharing a secret. âOkay,â he said softly with the smallest nod, gesturing toward the stairwell, âAfter you, y/n.â
âAnd after these are filed, we have to get those into his mailbox, and then Seonghwa has to sign these for you, Iâll get Wooyoung to sign these for me, and then weâre set,â Hongjoong flashed a dazzling smile your way, buckling your knees. He oozed charisma. He smelled of something musky and dark, something you yearned to taste on his smooth skin adorned with silver jewelry hanging off of him.
Taking the folder from his nimble fingers he wore rings on, you smirked. âAnd then we have to sit through that meeting.â
Hongjoong rolled his eyes and leaned forward on the counter, dipping his shoulder toward you to nudge you. âDid you get a look at Mr. Song? I don't know whether or not to expect anything good from this.â
Inching closer to him, you narrowed your eyes. âYou think weâre all fired? Forever?â
Matching your energy, a wickedness flashed in his eyes. âWeâre gonna have to work the corners, heâll rip everything away from us.â
âIn that suit, with that attitude, he will,â you said, and he laughed.
He tapped you with a fist, sliding over more papers across the counter before reaching for two coffee cups. âWeâre gonna be fine,â he mumbled, shaking his head as his smile softened, âI have an in.â Wiggling his brows, he flashed you a wink.
Gulping, keeping the heat that longed to rise to your cheeks at bay, you tilted your head. âOf course you do, Joong, I expected nothing less.â
He laughed again, filling up the cups in front of him. âItâs gonna be good, I was just messing with you.â Raising his gaze, intense and disarming, he winked again. âHope youâve got a dress that drips off of you like those pants, y/n.â
Jaw popping open, blinking entirely flustered, you took the coffee cup he held out for you as he passed by, and didnât say much else aside from, âI-I do,â and you watched him strut away wearing that goddamn smirk. I do?
You thought to yourself, tearing through your closet in your brain. Dresses you owned, sure, but nothing compared to what you wore todayâ bland, grey, itchy fabric. A dress? You were going to need a dress? After today's meeting?
âShit,â you whispered, collecting yourself, bounding for your bossâs office.
For hours you worked beside Seonghwa, Mr. Park, a tall man with broad yet slender shoulders and clean cut black hair pushed backward off of his forehead. In a sleek black suit, his jacket hanging on the back of his door, he wore the top two buttons of his shirt undone, giving you a peek of the chain that hung beneath the collar. Utterly stunning, but too old for you, you adored watching him subdue clients that sat in the chairs in front of his desk, both women and men falling under his spell, dazed by his beauty.
He treated you fairly, like anyone else in the office. Though you were his assistant, and you answered to his commands, you were his equal in a sense, and you felt nothing but comfortable in his presence.Â
Wooyoung on the other hand, Hongjoong's boss, heâs one to watch out for. Handsy after a glass of whiskey, married for what seems like a billion years, his wandering eyes have caught you in quiet hallways on the way back from the restroom more than once.
âTell me, y/n,â Seonghwa sang from his chair, sitting back against the leather, tapping his hundred dollar pen on his desk, âWhat keeps you at this company?â
You puttered about his office, straightening books, organizing filing cabinets. Glancing at him over your shoulder, his gaze locked in on yours, curious, you hummed and brushed your hands against your pants. Itchy fabric.
âPay is good,â you said, and he let out a loose laugh. Stepping toward his desk, you leaned over the back of one of the two chairs facing him. Eyes drawing over the nameplate in front of him, you smiled. âThe people are fun.â
Seonghwa lowered his brows. âAre they?â
âWhy do you ask?â Twisting your fingers together, you copied his face.
He sucked in a breath and let out a guttural sigh, surprising you. Standing to his feet, you stood up straight as well. âIâve been thinking some thoughts.â
âAs one does,â you joked, watching him pace along the back part of his office, staring out the floor length windows.
Turning to you, he sat down on the edge of a cabinet and flicked the pen between his fingers. âYou donât think some of them are too egotistical?â Pressing your hands to the front of your hips, your lips parted with a thought you werenât sure you should say. Seonghwa noticed, dropping his chin. âYou can tell me. Your secret is safe with me, they always are.â
Wooyoung popped into your head. The nights spent at company parties watching Hongjoong act like Mr. Big Dick popped in right next to him. Passing by Mr. Song on the first floor, the way he looked at you, looked down at you, popped next to him.
Seonghwaâs lips curled into a smile. âI can see it,â he sang, pointing at you with his pen, âYouâre thinking it.â
âI am,â you whispered, scrunching your face up. âAm I going to get fired?â
He chuckled and walked around his desk, pushing off of the cabinet with his foot. âIâd never fire you, youâre much too good at what you do, and you donât act like these⌠assholes.â
Your gasp made him snicker. âMr. Park,â you teased.
âPlease,â he shot you a look, âWhat do I say about that.â
You crossed your arms over your chest and lowered your chin. âMr. Park, what do I say about that?â
Rolling his eyes, he walked by you to the other side of his office. In a silly voice, he mocked, âItâs not professional.â
âItâs not,â you said, tone stern, âNow sit down and think about what youâve done.â
Seonghwa whirled himself around with a smile and listened to you. Plopping back into his chair after his circle around his space, he pulled himself under his desk and placed his elbows on it.
âAfter today's meeting,â he said quietly like the walls could talk, âWe need to talk.â
Nerves struck through you. âDo you know what itâs about?â
Perking a brow, he shook his head.
âHongjoong said he knows,â you said, and Seonghwa rolled his eyes more dramatically than before.
Splaying backward in his chair, he exclaimed, âOf course he doesâ see, this is what I mean!â Jolting forward with a wave of his hand, he groaned. âWhat did he tell you?â
Glancing at your feet, your cheeks flushed. Setting aside how your heart stuttered at the thought of his words, you mumbled, âThat Iâll need a dress, or something.â
Seonghwa paused. Resting his hands over the wood of his desk, he cocked his head aside. âYou still have a crush on him?â
âSeonghwa!â Heat blasted through your cheeks, the hot and cold too much to handle.
Your boss smiled. âJust checking. Is that why you wonât agree with me, that theyâre assholes?â
Admitting it made it true, and you didnât want it to be true.Â
Under his gaze, Hongjoongâs, youâve never felt more valuable, like the work you did here mattered, like the punishing of yourself daily while you readied yourself in the morning was worth something. One day youâd be the girl climbing into the back of the car with him. One day heâd place his hand on the small of your back instead, heâd waltz you around hotel lobbyâs, through ballrooms, heâd introduce you to men with big names you canât pronounceâŚ
âY/n,â Seonghwa cooed.
You blinked. âSorry, I justâŚâ
He drug his tongue over his teeth, taking a deep breath. âWhat have I told you before?â
Your fingers curled under the vest you wore. Dropping your eyes to his desk, you muttered, âThat good guys donât work here.â
Seonghwa followed your eyes and dropped his to the desk. Tapping his pen a few times, he clicked his tongue and said, âWhy donât you break until we have to go sit in that room full of testosterone?â
Perking up a bit, you breathed, âReally?â
He huffed a laugh, gesturing to your purse hanging up on the wall. âPlease. Go get a drink before we have to subject ourselves to nonsense.â
Taking yourself across his office, you slung your bag over your shoulder and rifled around in it for your cell phone. Giving him a crazy look, you said, âNo drinking on the clock, itâs-â
âUnprofessional,â he said at the same time as you, bobbing his head. âIâll see you in an hour.â
you: And then he said, do i own a dress that drips off of me like the pants iâm wearing
sannie: bro wants you, what the hell
yun: Gross.. objectifying you per usual, iâm not surprised in the slightest
you: not objectifying, thats wooyoung, hongjoong has never put his hands on me
sannie: but you want him toooooooooooooo
you: I do, god, heâs so smiley today tooâŚâŚâŚ.
yun: Are we still going to Danteâs or what..
you: Yes and Jongho is coming, he just doesnât know it yet
sannie: FUCK YES
sannie: tonight we get him to sing whitney houston
you: ANNNND IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
sannie: EEEE-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII WILL ALLLLWAYS
you: LOOOOVE YOUUUUUU-WHOOOOOOOO
yun: Classic
âTyping a mile a minute,â his voice struck your skin like he doused you like ice cold water, âWhatâs so funny?â A flick of a lighter. A sharp inhale and long exhale. Cigarette smoke washed over you where you sat on the concrete bench of the corner park across the street from the company.
Dropping your phone face down in your lap, you folded your arms over yourself and shot him a look. âNone-ya.â
Hongjoong grinned, sitting on the edge of the bench beside you. âOh really,â he teased with a wiggle of his brow. âTexting your little boyfriend?â
Now ice cold water did wash over you. Sitting up a little straighter, you shook your head in a convincing way that hid the fact that you were desperate for him to know that you were very much single. âNot my boyfriend,â you moaned, âMy friends.â Putting emphasis on the S, you reached for his cigarette.
Giving it up, he eyed your lips as they wrapped around the tip. âInsane.â
Blowing out the smoke, handing it back over to him, you crunched your brows in question.
He rolled the cigarette between his fingers and gave you half of a shrug. âThat youâre single, thatâs all.â
You wanted to squirm with how his eyes fell over you. You wanted to wriggle around, get a little friction between your legs by the seam of your pants, and then straddle him and get a public indecency charge. It sucked he could read it all over your body.
With a smirk, he took a drag of his smoke and met your eyes. âYou got a dress or what?â
âI do,â you said.
You donât, but you will.
âGood,â he crooned, sucking down another hit of his cigarette. âYou ever been to a company gala before?â
Company gala. A Gala. Excitement bubbled within you. Asking you if you had a dress, asking you if youâve ever attended a company galaâŚ
âWe started around the same time, Joong, do you think I ever have?â Teasing him, you snatched the cigarette from him and finished it, jabbing it into the concrete of the bench before flicking it into a nearby garbage can. âYouâve been to plenty, Mr. Mayor, okay?â
He laughed. Apparently you were funny today.
Crossing his legs, bouncing his foot, he shook his head as his smile grew. âI just know how to work them, sweetheart,â he crooned, and your insides did a cartwheel, âYou could too if youâd just give it up.â
Your phone vibrated on your lap. Picking it up, you opened the message and smiled at it. âGive it up?â you asked, half paying attention. Typing back to Yunho, you giggled to yourself and pressed send.
Hongjoong, quicker than you, reached for your phone and pulled it from your hands before you had the chance to lock it.
âOh my god,â you gasped, scooting toward him, scrambling for it, âGive that back.â Fighting you off with his elbow in your gut, he skimmed the message and laughed. This time instead of him laughing with you, you could feel it in your gut, he laughed at you.
âWhat the hell is a Shoog,â he curled his lip up, reading the text aloud. âShoog, I donât know about you but that song is stuck in my head, we can get Jongho to sing that one later instead, thatâd be really funny.â
âItâs Shug,â you huffed, pushing at him, trying to reach for the cell he gripped, âIt means sugar.â
Leaning into you, almost onto your chest entirely, his smile rested in a way youâve never seen. Devious, but a little enticing. âSounds like a boyfriend to me.â
âHeâs not,â you almost shouted, catching your phone as he tossed it into your lap. Hongjoong used his body weight to rock onto his feet, brushing off his thighs from the concrete. âYou have a problem if he is?â
Pursing his lips, cinching his brow, he scoffed. âThe fuck you take me for, sweetheart? I donât care whoâs in your pants and whoâs not.â Pointing at your phone, he jerked his head. âLoverboy has a nicer suit than me?â
Exclaiming aloud, shock evident on your face, you pressed your fingers between your brows. âWhat is going on?â Dropping your hands, you shot him a glare, one he returned with a sultry smirk. âJoong, what are you getting at here?â
He straightened his suit jacket, cocking his chin. âNothing,â he said simply, nodding toward the building across the street. âIâll see you inside. Meetings in ten.â
Without a response from you he left, strutting across the street and over the steps into the lobby. Sighing roughly, letting the sound regulate your nervous system from whatever that was, you picked up your phone.
yun: Shug I donât know about you but that song is STUCK in my head.. We can get Jongho to sing that one later instead.. Thatâd be really funny..
A smile graced your lips.
you: I'd love that, I have been singing it all day⌠About to go into the meeting⌠wish me luck
yun: The store is dead.. You should skip it and come hang out with me..
yun: Kidding, good luck corporate candy, donât let them eat you..
Men flooded the room. Whenever the company filed into the conference like this, bodies upon bodies, the realization that with more than one company across the country that there were more men just like this to crowd roomsâŚ
The women were far and few between, in tight black dresses and high heels, with their hair on their heads like crowns. Make up done to the nines, their jewelry glittering underneath the harsh overhead lighting, they clung to their supervisors, the men they assisted, some of them arm in arm, waltzing through the conference room doors with their sharp jaws and pointed noses turned up.
You waddled beside Seonghwa, like a little duck, following the man that stood six foot tall around the room, smiling politely as he shook hands and introduced you to men who spared you a glance for no more than three seconds. After each round Seonghwa leaned down to murmur in your ear, âAssholes.â
He says your name properly, he doesnât introduce you as his assistant, he introduces you as his colleague, his second, his right hand, a partner in crime of sorts, though most of the men didnât find that one too funny. But, it made you laugh. And, to Seonghwa, thatâs what he cared about.
He prefaced this meeting letting you know that he knows how it feels to be a little fish in a corporate ocean, let alone be a woman in a predominantly male field, to which he told you he doesnât know, but he takes the time to understand. He had your back, he always has and he always will, which is why he favored your opinion on where to sit.
There were open seats beside higher ups visiting for the day, the ones that werenât onstage. Some were beside the charismatic mouths that most tried to steal the attention of, beside Wooyoung and Hongjoong who laughed louder than all the mouths you could try to count.Â
Jongho sat toward the back, his chin tipped down, focused on his phone. On his own, his keeper elsewhere, he pressed his phone to his ear and babbled a mile a minute, letting his eyes scan the crowd. Meeting yours, he lit up, and his hand shot in the air. Giving him a meek wave, keeping your cool in front of your office's CEO that Seonghwa discussed matters with, you waited for him to finish, and then just as Mister Boss turned his back, you pointed at Jongho.
âSeats,â you offered.
Seonghwa gave you his soft smile, lifting his eyes to Jongho flinging his arm about. A gentle laugh pushed through his lips. âSure.â
He wouldâve sprawled across the chairs next to him if you didnât hightail it over there. Weaving through men in suits, some side eyeing you but shaking Seonghwaâs hand, your smile grew as you got closer to Jongho.
âNo, I gotta go,â he said into his phone, standing up to throw an arm around your back like the two of you didnât bump into one another that morning, âI gotta go! San, sheâs here, let me go.â
Gasping, you tore his phone out of his hand and pressed it to your ear. âSaaannie,â you sang, heart warming at the giggle that answered you, âWhy are you not wooorking?â
Seonghwa shook Jongho's hand and slipped behind you into the seats, leaving one open in the middle for you. He greeted the man on the other side of him and fell into conversation.
Sanâs warm voice melted through the phone, âIâm on my way to go see Yuuunho.â
âLucky, we just got into our meeting,â you huffed, plopping down next to Jongho who slung an arm around the back of your chair. âItâs full of men. Old men.â Seonghwa whipped his head of black hair around to give you a look. âSorry,â you smiled, and laughed as his lip curled.
âSeonghwaâs there?â San sighed, âHeâs so hot- Love your jacket! âŚNo, you! âŚNo, you!â
Crossing your legs, you sat backward against the seat cushion and Jonghoâs arm. Sharing a glance with him, you muttered, âHeâs making friends again.â
Jongho rolled his eyes, flicking his bangs from his forehead. âWhen is he not?â
You moved the phone between your ears, Jongho leaning in to have a listen. âItâs a store on Broadway⌠Broadway and 12th⌠By Ribalta⌠The Italian place! Youâve never been? âŚYou have to go!â
âSan,â Jongho said.
The men took their place onstage, squabbling with one another about who gets to sit where and who will speak first. Mr. Song, Mingi, the man who looked down on you this morning, with his chin held high he waltzed about the stage, like a celebrity, waving to those who were worthy.
âItâs really good, I swear⌠Ugh, I know, itâs like sometimes they try too hard to be authentic, trust me, babe, this one is worth itâŚâ
âSan,â you said.
Seonghwa and the man beside him focused forward as the room began to fall quiet.
â...Itâs right next to it⌠The store⌠Yeah, but theyâre limited to what they carry, so they might not have it in season right nowââ
You and Jongho both sneered, âSan!âÂ
âWhat!âÂ
âWe have to go,â you breathed, wanting to laugh, but the pressure of the men above you literally and physically ate you alive. Putting the phone back in Jonghoâs possession, you sucked in a breath and settled in your seat.Â
Jongho whispered into his phone, âYes, yes, Iâll see you later⌠Danteâs? No, she didnât tell me, but Iâll be there⌠Okay, okay⌠I will not sleepover⌠I donât care what happened last time, Iâm notâ Goodbye!â
Mingi tapped on the mic connected to the podium, stepping up with a grin and thunderous applause. Your hands stayed folded on your lap. As did Jonghoâs. As did Seonghwaâs.
You glanced at Jongho with a perked brow. âLast time?â
He sighed, shaking his head. âLet it go.â
âYou owe me for this morning,â you narrowed your eyes, and he copied you. âNo, no, tell me, Mr. Misogyny.â
âNot Mr. Misogyny, fine,â he groaned, shifting in his seat to face you a bit more. The applause died down as he leaned into you, whispering, âThe last time we went to Danteâs and I got shit faced, San was supposed to take me home.â
Furrowing your brow, not listening to Mingiâs opening greeting, you whispered, âDid he not take you home?â
Jonghoâs eyes widened. âOh, he took me home. And he stayed.â
Gasping internally, your smile spreading over your cheeks, you gripped his knee, digging your nails into his slacks. âGay.â
He shot you a glare. âBi.â
Rolling your eyes, you whispered, âSan is gay, you are a typical bisexual New Yorker, youâre not special, weâre all bi here.â
He took a hand to his chest, clutching nonexistent pearls. âOuch?â
Glancing to his hand that screamed gay, you popped your brows. âMr. Misogyny.â
He threw his other hand toward you, whacking your arm. âShut up!â
âShut up, you shut-â
âChildren,â Seonghwa scolded with a smile, breathing through a laugh at how you and Jongho froze to look at him, arms tangled, faces scrunched up.
Pulling yourselves into your own seats like toddlers, you set your focus forward and pursed your lips. Mr. Song went on and on about the success of his company, how proud he is of how his success has spread nationwide, that heâs grateful to have such strong men like himself working beneath him, for him. You could hear how Seonghwaâs eyes rolled. You couldnât wait to tell Yunho all of this.
Scanning the room, the lot of bald men and those with receding hairlines eating up every word though it all came out extremely backhanded, your eyes land on Hongjoong, snickering with Wooyoung, the two acting as though Mingi spoke directly to them.
Hongjoong sat at the end of the row, on the section opposite of yours. His legs were crossed, his slacks rising above his ankle to flash his designer socks. He wore no suit jacket, just his button down, a statement to the men around him, that he didnât need to act or present himself like they did, that he was better than them. He sat here with ease, a relaxed posture, both him and Wooyoung simply waiting for the words to be said, and once they were, he sat forward with a gust of excitement, celebrating with the rest of them. But, then he turned over his shoulder, and his eyes landed on you like heâd kept tabs on where you were sitting.
Mingi announced, âThatâs why weâll be throwing a Harmony Foundation Gala, for all of our branches, right here in Manhattan. Youâre all invited. Open bars, the finest catering, exquisite music, hours upon hours of not working,â he added coyly, and the room lost their minds, âAnd you will all receive a plus one.â
Seonghwa muttered to the man beside him, not surprised in the slightest that something of the sort would occur. Neither of them seemed to be excited, unlike the rest of the men who started a riot, shouting across the room to one another, elbowing each other in the guts with grins on their faces.
Jongho sighed heavily. âWell, this should be fun.â
âIt should,â you mumbled, staring back at Hongjoong who shot you a wink. âThis is why I need a dress.â
âHuh?â he asked, resting an elbow on your shoulder, following your eyeline to Hongjoong who turned away once heâd been caught. Jongho groaned, âOh no.â
âHe told me I need a dress,â you almost whispered. âI think heâs gonna ask me to the gala.â
Jongho sucked in a breath, one he didnât seem to release. Glancing between you and the back of Hongjong's head, he stuttered, âUh, really? How do you know? We just found out.â
âHe knew about it,â you shook your head, âHe fucking knew about it.â
Seonghwa tapped you with the back of his hand. âYou were right.â
âI was,â you whispered. âHe was.â Your belly bubbled with excitement, your heart beating three times faster than normal. You needed a dress, a good one, a gorgeous one. You had to schedule a hair appointment, a nail appointment, a facial, or something, whatever else it is that these other girls did before these kinds of parties, a wax, a bikini wax, Brazilian wax! And your eyebrows, you needed those done too, and maybe your face, just in case, you havenât checked out those details in a whileâ
âNew shoes,â you uttered out loud, and Jongho laughed.
Snapping your neck to look at him, he nearly leapt backward. âChrist,â he gasped, his hand reaching up for those non-gay pearls once again, âWhat just happened?â
You stood up abruptly, grasping the bottom of your vest. âI have so much to do.â
Seonghwa hooked a finger in the back of your vest by the collar of your shirt and pulled you back down. âHeâs not done, you can buy your dress later.â
âAnd then he turned around,â you shouted over the music, hands splaying across the wooden table littered with empty drinks. San leaned forward, his broad chest bumping the table, rattling the glasses. Jongho sat beside him sucking on a straw making an awful sound. Yunho sat back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest, his face upturned. âAnd he looked at me.â
San threw himself backward with a gasp, his biceps rippling under the short sleeves of the tight black t-shirt. âNo he did not,â he squawked, slapping a hand to Jonghoâs shoulder, making the straw pop out of his mouth and his eyebrows skyrocket.
âHe did,â he teased, rolling his eyes, setting the cup down on the table with a clang. Putting his elbows on the wood, he put his chin in his hands and eyed Yunho. âWhat do you make of all this?â
Kicking his foot around, the one crossed over his knee, he shrugged. âI think heâs a dick.â He held a finger up toward you just as a whine almost slipped out of you. Giving you a look from behind grey thin rimmed glasses, he said, âYou deserve better, I donât know why youâre chasing him.â
San, rubbing the back of his neck, slinging an arm around Jonghoâs chair, muttered, âMr. Big DickâŚâ
Yunho groaned, âOh, great.â Jongho scoffed, nudging San as Yunho sat forward for his empty cup and knocked back the little bit at the bottom, and a few ice chips. Pushing them around with his tongue, he shook his head and leaned into you. âYou can do better, Shug.â
Jongho kicked your leg under the table.
âUgh,â groaning aloud, you shot a hand toward San, âYou get it, donât you?â
He picked the cherry out of his glass and popped it between his teeth. âI do, trust me, heâs packinâ, butâŚâ His voice trailed off, his gaze dragging over to Yunho.
Looking at him, then looking back at San, you swatted two hands at Yunho and groaned again. âBut, what!â
âNothing,â he shouted, twisting his lips into a smile. âWe need another round, Jonghoâs not drunk enough.â Yunho threw a hand in the air to call over the waitress who has served you more than once.Â
Jongho tipped his head back to look at the ceiling. âWhy me? Why me.â
San slung himself around the boy in a hoodie much too heavy for the summer heat. âBecause, pretty boy, we like to hear you sing.â
âI canât sing.â About half the bar stopped to glare at him, even the waitress who took Yunhoâs order.
Grabbing his cheeks, San squished them and brought his lips dangerously close. âSo humble, so cute.â
âEnough,â Jongho shrugged him off, poking a finger into his bicep to push him away with a hysterical glare.Â
Sanâs eyes dropped to the hoodie. âThatâs coming off in an hour.â
Sliding your hand across the table, you raised a pinky for him to hook with his. âIâll take that bet.â
Exchanging wicked grins, San shook your hand around. âLoser has to let the winner take him home.â Jongho sighed, then smiled up at the waitress who clicked her pen.
âBet,â you whispered with a scrunch of your nose.
âThanks so much,â Yunho smized, the girl waltzing away with a pep in her step. Facing the table, he pushed his hair back off of his forehead and released a breath. âYou guys are nuts.â Pouting, you propped an elbow on his bare shoulder exposed by the cut off tee he wore. He set his jaw in place, narrowed his eyes, and took his time looking at you, before he flickered his eyes over to San, then Jongho. âI give it a half hour.â
San, cracking a laugh, grabbed onto Jongho once again and shook him around, the two getting into a minor fistfight as San tried to take the hoodie off of him now.
Giggling, letting your bodyweight tip more onto Yunho, you caught his eye and gave him a small smile. Nodding toward where the waitress plugged in your order, you mumbled, âShe was cute.â
He didnât have to look at who you were talking about to know. Locked in on you, he smirked. âSheâs taken.â
âHow do you know that? You asked her already, didnât you?â
He let out a laugh, shaking his head. Breaking his gaze from yours, he nodded toward the corner of the bar where a scrawny boy with blonde hair to his shoulders sat, one too pretty to even be a boy, so maybe he wasnât. Dressed in a large white t-shirt and jeans way too big for his hips, he stared out the window with wide brown eyes as he guzzled his drink. Oblivious, almost, until the waitress popped in front of him and his cheeks broke out with the widest smile and most perfect teeth.
âCute,â you whispered, and Yunho looked at you. You watched as the boy took the girl's hands and pulled her closer, his eyes full of galaxies as he listened to her speak. He asked her a question and she blushed, glancing over her shoulder with a laugh as if to see if anyone else had heard him. âReally cute. They look young.â
Yunho considered it, tilting his head. âNot much younger than us.â
You met his eyes. âYou arenât even looking at them.â
âI donât have to,â he said quietly. Not even the way Jongho laughed at San could break his gaze. âDo you really like Hongjoong?â He wore a singular necklace today, it hung over the old band shirt he wore, shaped like a star, or some sort of sun. Reaching for it, you pulled your lips to the side and messed with the points hanging on the chain.
âI think I do,â you said.
âYou think you do?â
Looking at him, you said, âI do.â
He flashed you a lazy smile. âYou sure?â Tossing his necklace at his chest, ignoring how it bounced off, you shoved away from him with a huff. He twisted in his chair, following you, leaning into you instead. âNo, no, Iâm just asking. Are you sure?â One of his elbows rested on the back of his chair, the other on the edge of the table. He caged you in, his size incredible.
Folding your arms around yourself, now wearing a cropped tank and ripped jeans, you blinked up at him and shrugged. âI think so.â
âWell,â he breathed through a laugh, âAs long as you think so.â
âStop,â you whined, nudging him.
âNo, I get it,â he nodded, tipping his chin up, âMr. Big Dick, Iâd like him too, heâs a hot shot.â
âYouâre dumb,â you mumbled, facing the table, turning a shoulder toward him. He took that as an invitation to lean in and prop his elbow on it. âGet offâa me-â
âShug,â he said just above a whisper, stopping you from pushing him away. He had your arm in his grip, gentle, but strong. âI just donât want you to get hurt, youâve told us so much about him, Jongho doesnât like him, he doesnât seem like a good guy, thatâs all.â
âWhat do you know?â Shrugging again, he let you go, but then grabbed your ankle with his feet and trapped it. Glaring at him, he smiled back.
âI know you,â he said, âAnd I know that youâd rather share a cigarette with a stranger and then buy a beer for a bum on the street, clink your glasses together and talk about the ways of the world, rather than become a CEOâs wife.â Averting your gaze to his chest, his necklace, you listened to him. âYou think heâd wanna come here and see how long it takes for Jongho to strip?â
âHey,â Jongho whined, giving you both a mere glance before San took his attention back.
âYou think heâd wanna sit here and try every drink on the menu? Will he tip our waitress too much âcause he knows what it's like to struggle? Will he think it's funny that you have to jump once on the floorboard by the lightswitch in your kitchen otherwise the light wonât turn on?â
Blinking up at him, you muttered, âWhy the lesson?â
He shrugged, glancing around the bar before he said, âI just donât want you to forget who you are. Iâve known you for six years, Shug. This crush is growing, I donât want you to lose yourself in the process. If you wanna sleep with him, sleep with him,â you both laughed, âJust donât get attached âcause he doesnât seem like the guy to hold onto a girl.â
You twisted around to face him again, pulling your leg free from his hold, though now your knees were nestled between his. Closing them in, capturing you, he flashed you a smile.
Perking a brow, you glanced behind him, though you could barely see over his shoulders. âAnd you should sleep with the waitress.â
Yunho turned around briefly, the sight of the waitress and the blonde boy making eyes at each other making him hum his disapproval. âThink that little guy does just fine,â he said, turning back toward you.Â
Comfortably letting life occur around you, you and Yunho shared a smile, one that faded as your eyes danced over the other's face. Six years youâve shared, one of the first friends you made after your move to Manhattan, the cool guy in the record store you stumbled into looking for new wall decor.Â
San was a bonus, his roommate, a packaged deal those two. You guys clicked in an instant, sharing interests, music taste, a love for the city and all that it offered. By your third visit into the store he was inviting you out for drinks that weekend. Surprised when you asked San to join, he stuttered a few times, but agreed, mumbling something about you all getting to know one another better. Six years and a Jongho later, here you were.
Pulling your eyes off of him, you notice that the next round of drinks had been dropped off and that San and Jongho were halfway done theirs, staring at you two. Sucking in a breath, you swiveled around in your chair, and Yunho did the same, ignoring how the boys ping ponged their stare between either of you.
âWhat?â you snapped, reaching for your drink. Yunho pinched his brow and sipped his beer. San seemed to say something to him telepathically, but everyone refused to acknowledge it.
âAnyways,â Yunho cleared his throat, cocking his chin at Jongho and his hoodie, âOff, Choi.â
With one arm wrapped around your shoulders, Yunho kicked his feet in front of him with each step, laughing while he sang aloud and you kicked your feet with him. Smiles wide, drunken laughter bouncing off of the hot concrete into the night sky, San swaggered a few steps in front of you with Jongho under his arm.Â
Tossing a hand in the air, swaying into your side, throwing you off balance, Yunho sang, âIâll stop the world-â
âAnd melt with you!â Jongho slurred, trying to escape Sanâs hold, but if he did heâd stumble over his own feet and almost fall on his face like he did five minutes ago.Â
âYouâve seen the difference and itâs getting better all the time,â Sanâs voice was muffled, Jongho grabbed him as soon as his mouth opened and tried to kiss him.
Yunho, throwing his head back with a laugh that echoed down Bleeker Street, he squeezed you into him and sang, âThereâs nothing you and I wonât do!â Hitting you with a grin, he groaned. âItâs so good, itâs so good.â
Bumping his hip with yours as the four of you came to a stop at the corner of 6th Avenue, your tipsy smile made him laugh. âThisâll be your song for the entire next week.â
Dipping down, his nose almost touched yours. âUntil-â
âSomething makes me feel better than this,â you said at the same time as him, widening your eyes.
Leaning into his hold, letting him balance you, you released a ragged sigh. âI needed this,â you yawned, snaking an arm around his waist for stability. Your several drinks had caught up to you, you needed your sweatpants and your bed. âI needed you.â
He smiled, meeting your gaze, his eyes heavy from the liquor, deeper than ever. âYou did?â
Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, your fingers brushing against his bare side, you smiled something lazy and giggled. Then, you giggled again as Jongho almost tripped up the curb across the street. âI did,â you said with a sure nod, following close behind the boys heading up Bleeker.
Yunho snapped his head up and pressed his lips together, trying to hide his smile.
Nudging him, you asked, âWhat?â
He shook his head, popping out his bottom lip. âNothing.â
Your laugh projected down the street, âWhat!?â
âNothing!âÂ
Digging a finger up into his armpit he clamped down with a cackle, you dug your finger into his sides, in the cut outs of his shirt, bellowing with cries of success as he wriggled around and bent in half. âTell me! Tell me!â San and Jongho were several steps ahead now, San raking his fingers through Jonghoâs hair where his head sat on his shoulder.
Yunho lifted a knee, his whines and rampant giggles a white flag, and he tried to push you off of him. Clamping yourself to his front, your chests pressed together, both hands in the cut outs of his shirt, you had him. His weakness.
âCâmon,â you teased, grabbing him, messing with him, tickling him, all too funny really. âTell me, tell me, tell meââ
He snapped straight up and grabbed onto your shoulders, pulling you into him as his face wiped clean. âChrist,â he muttered, spinning to the side. His arms slid around your back, holding you tight. Fear shooting through you, you grabbed onto his biceps and whipped your head around, searching for the source of his worry. Behind you, a door to a restaurant had swung open, one that wouldâve hit you if Yunho didnât have several inches on you and hadnât seen the people coming.
âExcuse us,â a familiar voice slurred. Jung Wooyoung.
Which meant there was the possibility thatâ
âHey, sweetheart.â Hongjoong.
Shit. Shit.
Heart lodging in your throat, you shoved Yunho away and brushed your hands over your front. In a cropped tee and ripped jeans you couldnât believe you were running into him right now, while you looked like this, after several drinks. Crooked hair on your head, a necklace that had spun around the wrong way, the makeup you had put on after work that was now smeared, your lipstick worn in the middle. Yunho stumbled back a step, you didnât have much power to move him, but your shove threw him off. Clamping his hands to his stomach, he tangled his brows and glared at you.
âOh,â Hongjoong crooned, looking at Yunho before he smirked at you, âSorry, I mean, Shug.â He wore what he had on in the office today, black slacks and his white button down that now had more buttons undone. Wherever his suit jacket had gone, you didnât want to know. The bare skin of his chest made your mouth water.
A woman stepped out of the restaurant in tall heels and a short dress, complaining about the service, or the hostess, or the bathrooms, you couldnât make much out over the heat of Hongjoong's stare. She tucked herself into Wooyoung's arm that he held out for her, a cigarette now hanging from his lips, one she reached around in his front pocket for a lighter to light it for him. She was handsy, grabbing something else with a smile before she fished the lighter out. Looking up at them, Wooyoung perked a brow, staring at you, catching you watching them.
âWhatâd you call her?â Yunho asked Hongjoong, cocking his head aside.
That wicked fucking smile. âShug,â fell from his lips as smooth as the liquor youâre certain they serve inside this five star joint, âThat a problem?â
Yunho narrowed his eyes. âWhatâs your problem?â
By the time you ripped your eyes off of Wooyoung and his girl you had tuned back into what you stood in the middle of.Â
âMy problem?â Hongjoong laughed, âI donât have a problem, Stilts.â
Yunho scoffed, making the face he made before his anger overcame him. It never usually happened this fast. This was weird.
Yunho took a step toward him, toward you. âWalk away, Shrimp.â
Holding up a hand, pressing it to his chest, you screwed your brows up and gave them both a look. âStilts, Shrimp⌠Grow up, what fucking year is it?â
Hongjoong, surprised, snickered, âWhat a mouth, Shug!â
âShut up,â Yunho lunged, but you held him back.Â
âCâmon,â Hongjoong sized, tilting his head slightly as he looked at you. âYou like that old-timey shit donât you? Play along, Doll, we could have some fun, go to the hop and shake a leg before we have a shagââ Yunho moved you aside in a blink, lunging for Hongjoong, pushing at his chest with both hands, sending him backward a few steps. âWalk away.â
âWatch yourself,â Wooyoung said, voice steady. He had his phone in his hand already dialed to 911. All he had to do was push the button.
Shoving yourself through the middle of the boys, you swatted at his wrist. âOkay, too far.â
He winked at you, puffing on his cigarette. âHe taking you home?â he asked, nodding at Yunho.
Giving his girl a look, she didnât seem to care. Muttering, âOh my god,â you turned around and grabbed onto Yunhoâs arm, tugging him away from Hongjoong. âLet it go, letâs just leave.â Glancing over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes at Hongjoong who still challenged Yunho. âLeave.â
His eyes glazed over to you, up and down your body, his tongue dragging over the flash of his white teeth. âNot your boyfriend,â he nodded, his eyes fluttering closed for all of two seconds, âRight. See you on Monday, y/n.â The three skipped across the street in the opposite direction. Hongjoong didnât give you another look, but Wooyoung did, his smirk evident.
Shivering in the summer heat, his eyes making your skin crawl, you wrapped your arms around yourself and started down the sidewalk, following Jongho and San who were long gone.
âHey,â Yunho breathed, hurrying after you, your pace quick. He reached for your shoulder, but you shrugged him off. âHey,â he said, louder, âYou mad at me?â
Bounding over a cross street, flicking your head in both directions, you didnât bother to look at him. âNo,â you spat, then shook your head, âI donât know.â
âYou donât know?â
You sped up, your feet powered by your stomach that turned in cartwheels, and not the good kind. âI donât know, Yunho.â
He grabbed onto your shoulder again, and this time you reached a hand up to pull him off, spinning on your heels to face him. Distraught, his face screwed up, he shook his head and tossed his hands out at his sides. âWhatâd I do?â
You let out one laugh. âAre you kidding me?â Barely moving, all he did was shake his head about. âOh my god,â you groaned, twisting around to continue your race home.
âNo,â he huffed, grabbing onto you to spin you back around, âWhatâd I do?â
For the last time, you swatted him away. âYou really had to put your hands on him?â Yunho rolled his eyes and threw his head back. âI get you donât like him, but we just talked about this, I do.â
âEven after what he said,â Yunho grumbled, eyeing the buildings on the street behind you, âSure, you still like him.â
âHe was kidding,â you said matter-of-factly, holding up a hand.
âSure he was,â he said, raising both of his brows, âHis boss was too, right? Kidding just like he was at the holiday party this past Christmas when he grabbed your ass?â
âHe was drunk, he wasââ
Yunho threw his hands up, his voice echoing down the street, âYouâre making shit excuses for them, Shug!â
âItâs not excuses, itâsââ
âItâs what,â he slouched, tucking his hands behind his back, knitting his brows together over his eyes, âTell me what it is. These guys taking advantage of you, for what? You tell Mr. Park they do all this? Speak to you like this? Put their hands on you? What would he say? What would he do?â Heâd have them all fired. Or, heâd try.
He even asked you earlier today, if you thought they were all assholes, if you had an issue with them, as if he knew everything already and had been waiting for you to admit it. Even if he tried to help you, the higher ups wouldnât do a thing. Shrinking into yourself, pulling fistfuls of denim into your hands, you stared at the concrete under your boots.Â
Gorgeous he was. Hongjoong. Even when filthy words came out of his mouth, you wanted nothing more than for him to follow through. Everything he had given you all day, the closest youâve come to him giving you the attention youâve always wanted from him, he seemed to confirm it all in the filthy words he just said to you. Go to the hop and shake a leg before you have a shag. Cringe worthy, entirely. You wanted to laugh and groan and never hear them again, but what if they were true?
The company gala announced at the meeting was a month away. All of his cohort nagging of get a dress, do you have a dress, and his hints of asking you if youâve ever been to a gala, or if you had a boyfriend. Even the way he looked at you after the announcementâŚ
He was going to ask you. There was no way in hell that he was not asking you. But with how Yunho just acted like he had to protect you from him, it couldâve screwed everything up.
Lifting your chin, meeting his gaze, you gulped and shook your head. âLet it go,â you mumbled, and his posture admitted defeat. Though it hurt your heart, you said, âI like him, and I want to go to this gala with him. I know, I see it, I hear it, but I just⌠Maybe I need actual rejection to get over him, I donât know, but I⌠I like him. Let me do this.â
Yunho clenched his jaw. Averting his eyes, he shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. âOkay.â
âThank you,â you whispered. Starting down the street, Yunho kept in time with your steps. After a minute or two of quiet, you looked up at him and asked, âYou staying over?â
He didnât smile, but he looked as if he wanted to. âCourse.â
Rejection came sooner than expected. Standing at the coffee counter with two cups in your hands, at a bright nine thirty seven in the morning, you watched Hongjoong push a blonde against the wall down a hallway. Curling a finger beneath her chin, tipping her up to look down at her, his lips curled, and they spoke slowly, and she ate it up. Her slow blinks, her pouty lips parting, the lusty nods of her head.
He kissed her. Their hands slipped lower, exploring parts of them theyâve already seemed to touch, like their kiss. One practiced, one rehearsed, for a long time. An extended period of time. The way her hands roamed his back, over the curve of his ass, his hips, his thighs, up the front of his belly and down to hisâ Nah.
Placing both cups down, you straightened the crisp blouse you had pulled on this morning, one that you thought emphasized your curves like the dress on that blonde, and darted back into Seonghwaâs office, pressing your back to the door after slamming it shut. It hurt. It shouldnât hurt, youâve watched him do this with several other girls before, yet your heart had been pierced with something sharp.
Seonghwa sat at his desk, twirling his pen between his fingers. With one leg crossed, he sat backward on the leather, eyeing you curiously. âYou do not look happy,â he said. Throat tightening, you shook your head. He uncrossed his legs and sat forward. âYou feel okay? I can get through today alone if you need to go home.â You shook your head again, and he laughed to himself. âWhat happened out there that got you glued to our door?âÂ
âNothing,â you squeaked.Â
Unconvinced, he smiled. âOne of these days youâre going to tell me the truth,â he said, âOr, Iâm hiring you a body guard.â
âNo,â you sighed, pushing off the door, stepping closer to his desk. âThat hasnât happened sinceââ Cutting yourself off, his brows skyrocketed.
âContinue,â he gasped, âSince?â
Raising a finger, you calculated your words, and sighed once more. âIâll tell you later.â
Seonghwa studied you, his soft eyes sharp, analyzing you from tone to body language. âIâll go get our coffee,â he said, knowing you didnât want to go back out there, âThen we can discuss. Get comfy.â
âWait,â you almost shouted as he grasped the armrests of his chair to stand up, âIâll go. Iâm sorry.â
Settling back down, he tilted his head. âApology not needed,â he said gently, âAre you sure?â
âYes,â you breathed, shaking your head. âJust⌠needed a breather.â
Seonghwa asked, âFrom?â
Four knocks sounded on the door. Sharing a look with your boss, he gave a tentative, âCome in,â and when the door swung open, your heart sank to your knees.
Holding onto two coffee cups, the cups you left behind, Hongjoong, with a grin across his face, stepped inside and held them up. âYou left these behind,â he said, breezing past you to pop them on Seonghwaâs desk.
âThanks,â Seonghwa said through his teeth.
Hongjoong held a hand toward him. âDonât mention it, please,â he chortled, adjusting the collar of his shirt. There was lipstick on it. Facing you, he cocked his chin up. âYou look like youâve seen a ghost. You good?â
Thinning your lips, unable to look at him for longer than a second, you hummed, âMhm.â
âThink she might be coming down with something,â he pouted, glancing at Seonghwa, âShe was out partying with her boys all weekend.â
Scoffing aloud, jaw falling open, you shot him a glare, one he returned with a curve of his lips. Seonghwa sighed, reaching for his cup of coffee, not entertaining him.
On his way to the door, Hongjoong leaned into you. âMight want to find a date to that gala soon, Shug,â he sneered. âThereâs not many left.â
âThereâs not many left.â
San threw himself forward into the table, glasses rattling. âNo.â
Copying him, eyes widening, you shouted, âYes!â
âAsshole,â Jongho stated, hands palms up on the table.
Yunho, pressed to the back of his chair beside you, drug his fingers over his face, rubbing his eyes before he uttered a quiet, âYeah.â
Knocking back the rest of your drink, slamming it to the wood, you threw a hand over the glasses graveyard before you and your friends and shook your head violently. âHeâs⌠a jerk! Thatâs it. He sucks!â San, Jongho, and Yunho, they shared a glance before they turned toward you slowly. Squeezing your eyes shut, tightening your hand into a fist, you sighed heavily. âI mean it.â
Jongho asked, âDo you?â
âNo,â you breathed, slumping over. Opening your eyes, you drug your hands over your cheeks. âI like him. Damn!â You pounded your fist on the table, glasses rattling again. Yunho rolled his eyes. âBut, he sucks.â
âWeâve been trying toââ
âYunho,â you snapped, pointing your eyes toward him, âI know.â
He screwed up his face and held open his arms in a shrug, his oversized t-shirt dripping off of him like water. âIâm just saying. Itâs been all this time, and heâs done this to you so many times.â
Sucking in a breath, one big and dramatic, you leaned back in your chair and smoothed your hands over your thighs to grip your knees. âHe has,â you mumbled, recounting the numerous times Hongjoong has flaunted a woman in front of you. âI just⌠I thought this time⌠He meant it.â
San downed the rest of his drink and popped his brows. âThe bar is low.â
Jongho curled his lip. âThe bar is in hell.â
Yunho stared at the table. âSatan is using the bar to hang his laundry.â
Groaning aloud, tipping your chin back, you eased the ache between your lungs with another deep breath.Â
He meant it. He had to have meant it. You were different from any of the other women he entertained, you were you. Insanely more fun, and interesting, and far from plastic, far from a giggle at every joke kind of girl just because he has money. He had to have meant it, all these insinuations toward the gala, toward taking you, and making sure you were prepared, and had a dress, and a date. You had him. UntilâŚ
Snapping your head forward, you twisted in your chair, toward Yunho, who shot you the world's weirdest look. Jongho furrowed his brows and swatted at Sanâs hand that tried to swipe his half full beer, San who also stared at the two of you, curious. Yunho stared at you, into your eyes, focused, analyzing. An attempt to read your mind, you think.
And then it clicked.
He erupted, hands flying, voice raising. âOh no,â he shouted, flinging himself around in his chair to face you, âNo, no, no! No! I did not do this! This did not happen âcause of what I did, Shug, donât you dare.â
San and Jongho both shouted, âWhat did you do?â
Gritting your teeth, you whined, then said, âHe touched him.â
San gasped. Jongho, slightly alarmed, slightly disgusted, muttered a quiet, âWhaaaââ
Yunho glared at him. âNot like that.â
âThen how?â San asked, successfully grabbing Jonghoâs beer, guzzling it down.
Placing your hands flat on the table, you sat up straight and parted your lips, though Yunho begged you not to. âFriday night, when we all left, you two made it back to your apartment first, you left us behind, and we just so happened to run into Hongjoong.â
âAnd Wooyoung, and his wife,â Yunho added, his tone flat and unamused.
âNot important,â you brushed off.
Yunhoâs eyes shot open wide. âYes important, he wouldâve abducted you if I wasnât there.â
âHongjoong or Wooyoung?â Jongho asked.
Yunho said, âWooyoung.â
San elbowed Jongho. âShe wants Hongjoong to abduct her.â
âI do not want him to abduct me,â you spat. âYunho pushed him.â
The boys gasped, both turning to Yunho at once. San smiled, Jongho tilted his head, disappointed.
Yunho held up both hands, feigning innocence. Fluttering his eyes shut, his long lashes splaying over his cheekbones, he said calmly, âHe said some fucked up shit, okay? He got in my face, I was drunk, I couldnât not do it. Mr. Big Dick, I donât care who you are, youâre in my face, youâre talking shit to my girl, Iâm gonna do something.â
Jonghoâs jaw popped open. San pulled his lips together before hiding behind his beer, sipping it as his eyes drew over to you.
Cocking your head to the side, you narrowed your eyes. Yunho dropped his hands and looked at you, the face of normal, of patience. Glancing at the table, at the empty glasses in front of him, counting one, two, three, four⌠Okay.
âYouâre drunk,â you said, facing the table and San and Jonghoâs disappointment. âHe was making jokes, Hongjoong, and he just so happened to get in our way, and between us, andââ
âAnd I wasnât having it,â Yunho swung a hand about, âHe acted like he had some major claim over you or something, I wasnât gonna take that.â
Squinting at him, you asked, âAnd, what? You have ownership over me?â
He snipped, âWhat?â Facing you, he crossed his arms over his chest. âThatâs not what I mean.â
âSounds like it,â you huffed, giving a look to San. âYou heard my whole thing about him that night, how it was possible he wanted to go to the gala with me, and I told you, I like him, and when we run into him, you ruin it.â
âHe ruined it himself,â Yunho argued, his hands flying, âIf he didnât get jealous and try to piss on you to claim his territory, I wouldâve never snapped. Youâre not an object to be won, thatâs how they look at women, thatâs not you.â
Opening your mouth to fight back, Jongho sat forward and slung a hand between you. âHang on,â he said quickly, taking his time to look at each of you.Â
Silence fell, though the bar moved around you, tables getting their orders, the blonde boy and the waitress whispering on barstools, faint music pumping in the background. Jongho exchanged something with San, a look that spoke to only them, and in seconds San broke out into a toothy grin.
Jongho said to you, âHongjoong said something fucked up to you.â The three of them waited, anticipation on their tongues.Â
Shrugging, you muttered, âI mean, yeah, I guess it was fucked up.â
San continued before Yunho could air his grievances, âAnd when Yunho stood up for you, it pissed Hongjoong off?â
Giving your best friend the tiniest of glances, you shrugged again. âYeah?â
San and Jongho both snickered and faced one another, slapping their hands together. âItâll work,â they muttered to one another, âItâs going to work. Itâs perfect, isnât it? How did we not see this before? Heâs so stupid, he wonât see it coming, heâll be so pissed, heâllââ
Yunho waved a hand in front of them. âHello!?â The boys whirled around, taking in your shared confusion.
âWhatâs going on?â you asked as the waitress appeared at the end of your table, ready for the four of you to order another round.
San smized, mischief in his eyes, his gaze flickering from Yunho, to you. âYouâre gonna win this. Weâre gonna play his game.â
Four knocks sounded at your door. Timid knocks. Knocks heâs never made before. Usually theyâre loud, and obnoxious, and a little excited, like the introduction to a Led Zeppelin song. This time they were any John Denver song ever to exist. Stomping through your apartment in wedged strappy sandals, you grumbled to yourself and yanked the door open, unable to believe he wasnât going to pretend to be happy about this predicament when heâs the one who got himself here in the first place.
âWe wonât have to do this,â is the first thing to leave his mouth before you get a word in. Dressed in denim torn to shreds showcasing his knobby knees and the length of his legs, the cropped black t-shirt he had pulled over his head hung just at the belt, if he had worn one. Tiny chains wrapped around the base of his neck, various golds and silvers wound together in mismatched plaits. His hair hung over his eyes, a bit shaggy today, wavy and natural.Â
âI donât, but you do,â you said with disdain.
Following you into your apartment, pushing the door shut, Yunho heaved a dramatic sigh. âBut, if youâre not comfortableâŚâ
Uncapping a lipstick, you wandered into the bathroom to glide it over your lips, a shade of pink to go with the stripes on your mini skirt. âWhy wouldnât I be comfortable?â
He appeared in the doorway, just as tall as it, leaning against the frame. Stretching one arm over his head, he made a sound while he thought, and opted to say, âI dunno, cause itâs me?â
Smacking your lips together, dropping the lipstick into the makeup bag on the shelf over the toilet, you shot him a look through the mirror. âItâs you because of what you did.â He rolled his eyes. Turning to face him, you pressed a finger to his chest, his hard, broad, sturdy chest. âThis could easily be San, or even Jongho, thatâd be the easiest, but this is how youâre going to make that night up to me.â
He dropped his chin, a smirk pulling at his lips. âMy penance is being your fake boyfriend, even though Hongjoong thinking I am your boyfriend is what got you into this mess.â
âUs,â you corrected, standing to your tip toes in your sandals, missing his nose with yours by an inch. Pushing by him, he followed you, two steps into the kitchen.
âI was defending you, Shug, you canât be mad at me for this,â his volume raised, and you held up a finger. âSorry,â he huffed, slapping his hands on his thighs, dropping his tone, âYeosang still giving you problems?â
Putting together a purse, a little leather one, you wiggled your brows, fishing your keys off the counter. âNot as of late, but I got something on him now, so if he ever does have some more shit to say, Iâll just tell him all about how I heard him going at it with his bossâs wife.â
Yunho gasped, a smile finally painting onto his face and yours. âYouâre kidding me.â
Slinging the purse over your bare shoulder, your strapless top clinging tight to your middle, you pursed your lips and shook your head with pride. âNot at all,â you said, moving for the door. Yunho clung to your tail. âHeâs a freak, who woulda thought?â
Stepping out into the hall, giving you space to lock up, Yunho glanced at the neighbors door and started putting puzzle pieces together. âLike⌠how?â
âWell,â you started, slipping your keys away, âThis was last weekend, and yanno, it kinda made me realize these walls are paper thin, so I donât think I can be too mad at him getting mad at us?â You started down the hallway, Yunho in tow. âAnyway,â you laughed, throwing your hands up, glancing up at him walking beside you, âI heard them come home and fumble with the keys in the door, they were giggling and shit, and he was hushing her. I was paralyzed at the kitchen table doomscrolling through clips of Maneskinâs last tourââ
Yunho squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his chin back. âWill we ever get them again?â
âOne can dream,â you muttered with a groan. âI heard them over La Fine, okay? Vic was killing it, her tits were out, it was great, and I heard them.â Yunho held the door to the stairwell open for you. âHe was telling her what a bad girl she was,â you amped up the act, walking backward down the stairs, to put on a show for him, âYou shouldnât be here, we shouldnât be doing this.â
Yunho grinned, a laugh caught between his teeth.
âWhat will he think? What will they say?â You held up a hand to signal the character switch. âShe says, âFuck what they say!â
âNo!â Yunho shouted, reaching out to grab you as you tripped over your feet and laughed. âTurn around.â
âYes,â you confirmed, listening to him, facing forward, grabbing onto the railing. âI donât even think they made it out of the kitchen. Iâve seen his apartment, that wall is shared with the one in my bedroom, they fucked in the kitchen.â
âDamn,â Yunho sighed, pushing open the door to your building, ushering you out onto the summer street of New York City. âQuiet boy has game, who woulda thought.â
Catching him off guard, you spun around and grabbed onto his biceps. Pushing him back against the brick wall of your building, you flipped your brows over all sappy and sweet, and whined, âTake me, Yeo, take me!â Shaking your hair around, you giggled. âDo what he canât, love me like he canât!â
Yunhoâs shoulders rose, eating his ears as you shook him. Wide eyed, he smiled at your words, at the exasperated way you shouted them, mimicking Yeosang's bossâs wife, but then you gazed up at him, lips pursed, eyes soft, cheeks pouty, and he swore he stopped breathing.
Squeezing his arms in your hands tighter, you fluttered your lashes as you blinked, putting on an act, making fun of the way the woman many years older than Yeosang spoke to him. Fingers pressing into the meat of his biceps, realizing you surprised him, and that he wasnât prepared to hear you do this in front of him, no matter the context⌠You gulped and wiped your face clean of emotion.Â
The summer air grew thicker, your cheeks flushed, your stomach sunk a littleâ And you werenât sure why. Itâs not the first time jokes like this had been made, your friends always moaned a bit, they were boys for fucks sake, the occasional flirt sneaked out, this wasnât new. As you gazed up into his sappy brown eyes that werenât ready to experience this, how it seemed like a part of him was listening, paying attention, you audibly expressed your apologies with a groan and pulled away from him, hands dropping to your side.
âYeah, it wasâŚâ you sighed, dragging a hand through your hair, âIt was wild, anyways, should we go? I dunno what time they close, and San said that if we donât make it there before six then the woman willââ
Yunho pushed off the building and hooked his arm in yours, a smile growing on his pink lips as he pulled you down the street. âLetâs go,â he said, entirely normal, keeping things normal, as normal as normal can be. Looking down at you, he said, âGonna need you to recreate that for San and Jongho though, that was hysterical.â
Wedging your bottom lip between your teeth, you nodded. âCanât believe I never told you guys.â
âThat Yeosang gets chicks? And that he fucks?â He huffed a laugh, âCanât believe you never told us either. I thoughtââ
Jumping in your sandals at the street corner cutting him off, you unhooked your arms and gasped. âWait, if weâre gonna practice this, shouldnât we hold hands instead?â
Yunho tugged at the hem of his cropped tee. âWaffle or pancake?â
Oh, how you yearned to lose your shit, fall to the concrete, and laugh at him. Instead, you deadpanned, and said, âYou did not just ask me that.â
Holding up your hand for him to take, he scrunched up his face and gave you a look. âShut up. Câmere, Shug.âÂ
Reaching around your back, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, yanking you into his side, the warmth of his hold engulfing you entirely. Wiggling his fingers to ask for your hand, guiding you with subtle nods of his head and small smiles, he laced his fingers with yours, the hand hanging from your shoulder, then gestured to your other hand wedged between your bodies.
âSixteen Candles, câmon,â he mumbled, meeting your eyes with a humor in his.
Furrowing your brows, you scoffed. âYeah, sure Jan.â
He rolled his eyes. The people waiting at the corner moved on, leaving the two of you alone until a few stragglers flew by with papers in their hands or headphones on their ears. Everyone dressed for summer, tanks, shorts, dresses, crop tops, their variations of outfits mixed and matched yet impressively cohesiveâ Your neighborhood the neighborhood of color, of originality, thrifted clothes and bright colored hair. Artists, musicians, bohemian spirits.Â
âI am not Sixteen Candles-ing you,â you giggled, and he clicked his tongue.
âYou have to,â he joked with a solemn shake of his head. âIâm sure as hell not doing it to you, Iâd rather you do it to me. Itâll be cute, do it.â
âBut, thereâs no one even around toââ
Yunho used his free hand to grab onto yours, pulling it behind his back as far as he could, allowing you to do the rest. Sliding it into his back pocket.
By the grace of the gods, the heavens, the angels, whoever you believed in, his denim hung off of him loose enough that you werenât necessarily holding on to anything specific. Until you started walking. His proud smile guided you across the street and across a few more blocks like this, and your palm brushed over him repeatedly.
It felt weird, to feel like this wasnât right, or that this was crossing a line, even though youâve smacked him on his ass plenty of times before, mainly after a few drinks. This was intimate. A scene in an old movie you watched together, a scene in a newer movie you watched together⌠Where the girl needs the boy to do these things, and the boy agrees to make his old girl jealousâŚ
Looking up at him, his brain at work putting pieces of the city together, admiring the streets that didnât mirror the financial district in the slightest, you supposed this was fine. This was the purpose. Technically, itâs his duty, to help you make Hongjoong jealous, or, more jealous than he already appeared to be. And plus, it was Yunho.
Like you said, this was his way of making that night up to you. Though, at the end of the day, youâd rather be doing this with him than anyone else. Too intimate or not⌠It felt right.
âWhat do you mean you donât have a dress yet?â The woman in jorts and a frilly blouse with big chunky boots on her feet stared at you in disbelief. Standing in front of a mirror in silver high heels, you stared back in shock. Yunho sat behind you on a stool with his hands on his knees, and confusion on his face. Her deep brown hair was tied up in a tight bun, with bangs hanging on her forehead. âHow are you buying shoes without owning a dress?â
Shrugging, you parted your lips to answer her, but no sound came out.Â
âInsane,â she spat, her lips curling, âEvery girl knows, you buy the dress first, then you buy the shoes. How do you expect the dress to fit right, or lay right, or fall right at your feet if youâre buying the shoes first? You get a dress, then shoes, how do you know you can even wear the heels? Do you even like these ones? Youâve tried on several pairs, no wonder itâs taking you forever, you donât have a damn dress.â
Biting your tongue, you sucked down a breath to steady your heart rate and your skin that burned. âThis is the one store I can afford, my friends and I are thrift lovers, Iâve never done this before, so Iââ
âGreat,â she berated, âSo I get to deal with the inexperience, wonderful, where did you say you worked?â
âHarmony Foundationââ
Her lined eyes widened. âAnd this is all you can afford?â
Pressing your hands to your belly, you shook your head fervently, feeling your throat tighten like how it would just before tears slipped down your cheeks. âI-I guess I donât know, I mean, Iâve never done this, I donât like to dress like thisââ
âGreat!â She shouted, and the few other customers in the store turned to seek out the noise. âYou donât even like it, why am I wasting my time, you might as wellââ
âWeâre done here.â Yunho leapt to his feet, snatching your wrist in his hand, pulling you behind him. The woman screwed her face up as she tipped her chin back to glare at him. âDonât start. This was a waste of our time. My girlfriend works hard, she deserves this night. Fuck you for making her feel less than. Our best friend sent us here, heâs obsessed with you guys actually. I canât wait to tell him how disgusting this whole visit has been.â Glancing at her name tag, he scoffed, âHave a nice day, Mina.â
Keeping his grip on you tight, he moved you away from the mirror, away from the lady who started out sweet as pie, and sat you down on another stool across the store. Crouching in front of you, he propped one foot up on his knee and started working his fingers at the buckle, the rough tips of his fingers brushing over your smooth skin.
He clenched his jaw tight, eyes pointed at your foot and shoe he slipped off of you. Moving with persistence, you could see the figurative smoke bellowing out of his ears, the gears that grinded behind his eyes. Switching feet, he slipped the shoe off gently, his actions rough, but the way he touched youâ Soft. He put you back into your sandals, his whole hand wrapping around your ankles to move you around, his touch entirely distracting you from the menace Mina had been. Strapped into your shoes, he blinked up at you and sighed heavily.
âMy girlfriend,â you teased under your breath, and he sighed again.
âDonât start, Iâm pissed off, Shug. Letâs go.â
He held your hand this time, really tight. Fingers intertwined, the grip he had on you almost made you want to peel his hand off âcause it was so tight.Â
âYunho, itâs fine,â you breathed, trailing behind him as he bounded down the street, dodging bodies that crowded now that it was past six oâclock. âIâll find something later, we donât have to go anywhere else, Iâm over this today.â
The shake of his head told you plenty. âMe too.â
Dropping your hand, setting you free, he crossed his arms over his chest and stopped behind a group of people waiting for the cars to finish whizzing by to trudge across the street. His jaw tightened, and he wouldnât look at you.
âIâm fine,â you assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged you off. âYunho?â The cars stopped. The bodies moved. You scurried along beside him, keeping up with the long strides of his legs. âYunho,â you groaned playfully, elbowing him a couple times. It wasnât until you were at the next block that he opened his mouth.
âThatâs how it feels when Hongjoong speaks to you the way he does,â he said, turning toward you. âAnd Iâve only experienced it in person maybe twice? But, even when I have to hear about it, or whenever you talk about him, thatâs how it feels.â
Glancing away from him, to the traffic, the unique people around you, you go numb for a moment hearing his name. Tilting your head, you asked, âBeing degraded in the middle of a store by a woman who hasnât gotten laid in years?â
He shot you a look. âWhat do you think Hongjoong does?â
âBut, he gets laid all the time.â
Yunho drug his hands through his hair, arching his back in a stretch with an obnoxious whine. âOh my god, Shug, nevermind, youâll never get it.â
Pedestrian traffic moved, pushing you both along the current. Store doors swung open with chimes, music played underneath the awnings of eateries and restaurants with outdoor seating, delicious smells wafted through the cultured air.
âHang on,â you groaned, reaching for the sleeve of his shirt, âI want to get it. I donât see what you see, Iâm sorry, okay?â
He, again, shrugged you off of him. âItâs really going to take you getting together with him, getting cheated on, heartbroken, and disposed of, to realize it.â
You grabbed onto him again, your hands pulling at his shoulders. He paid attention for you, his eyes on alert, scanning the crowds, the streets, itâs what he always did. Never once did you have to worry while you were out with him, he became your brain, your thoughts, your safety. Even now, while in the middle of some sort of argument, he pulled you out of the way of deranged tourists who think they have the right of way.
âIâm trying, okay?â Begging him to slow down, to look at you, to take a break, to understand you, you said, âI want to see what you see.â
His glare hardened. The crowd dissolved some. Turning into you, he smoothed his hands over your shoulders and pushed you up against the corner wall of a vacant store front. Leaning into you, his forehead millimeters from yours, he softened his eyes, his words not matching the tone he spoke in.
âIf you wanted to see what I see, youâd try a little harder,â he nearly whispered. Flickering his eyes between both of yours, letting them flicker over your face, he smirked. âIf you really cared that bad, to understand, to listen to me, to us, then we wouldnât be doing this little experiment, would we?â His gaze glazed over your lips. His smirk deepened. You were holding your breath.
âFake dating,â he mumbled with a Broadway worthy roll of his eyes. Chills ran down your spine as one of his hands slid up your neck, his palm cupping your chin, his fingertips brushing your hair. âTo get his attention, to make him jealous, to play his game. Since when do you care about fitting in with people, Shug? Becoming one of them?â
You barely shook your head, whispering, âI donât.â
Yunho narrowed his eyes. âThen, why are we doing this?â
âBecauseâŚâ
âBecause,â he repeated, mimicking the slight whine in your tone. âUse your words, youâre a big girl.â His thumb danced over your cheekbone, his words made your knees buckle. âI love to listen to you talk, it might be my favorite thing in the world. Tell me, why are we going to do this? Act like a couple, like weâre boyfriend and girlfriend, like weâre in love, like we share the deepest, most intimate parts of ourselves with one another at three in the morning entangled in a mess of sweaty sheets.â
You werenât holding your breath, you couldnât breathe. The depth of his eyes made it impossible to look away, impossible to pretend like his words dripping with sweet melted sugar weren't affecting you. He was close, so close, his body heat hotter than the sun that procrastinated setting.
âYou look pretty today,â he whispered. âYou always do. When I got to your apartment, and I watched you put this lipstick on, I just,â he shook his head, âCouldnât not think about⌠it.â
Gulping, your voice shook as you whispered, âAbout what?â
He broke out into another smirk, his perfect teeth peeking through his heart shaped lips. âNo,â he mumbled, a quiet laugh coming out of him, one that rumbled in his chest so deeply you could feel the bass, âI donât wanna sound like him.â
âSay it,â you whispered, fast, and he bit his lip.
âYeah?â Questioning you with a raise of a brow, he stood up straighter, chin cocking back.
You gazed up at him through your lashes, and you swore this newfound persona of his faltered. âPlease.â
His other hand slid up the other side of your neck. He tipped your chin back, both of his thumbs on your cheeks, his fingers in your hair. Shared air filtered between you, he was that close. Eyes on your lips, on the shade of lipstick he watched you layer on, he whispered. âItâs filthy.â
âWhat did you think about, Yunho?â Your eyes fluttered shut for a split second, and he sucked in a breath.
Taking one thumb to your bottom lip, he tugged at it gently before pressing the pad to both of your lips, smirking as your lips seemed to instinctively kiss it. âThought about how pretty theyâd look wrapped around the tip of myâŚâ
Your jaw fell open, your lips parting with a stifled sigh. Pressing your thighs together, his eyes widened some. It took him three seconds to move, out of your space, many steps from the wall.
Letting a laugh loose, he swiped the thumb covered in your lipstick over his lips and winked at you. âBet San or Jongho wouldnât do that, huh?â
Catching your breath, utterly blindsided, you situated your clothes that felt like he had ripped them off of you and thrown them back on even though he hadnât touched them, and you pushed off of the wall. Trying to laugh, feeling as though youâd been doused with a bucket of ice water, you took a deep breath and shook your head. âNo, they wouldnât,â you forced your laughter, âGood one. Thatâs believable, howâd I do?â
Yunho rubbed a hand over his bare middle, his shirt lifting to show off his toned stomach. Bobbing his head, his eyes unreadable, he shrugged. âDonât think youâre winning an Oscar any time soon. Your impression of Yeosangâs sugar mommy was way better.â
Smacking your lips, you laughed for real and rolled your eyes. âNot fair,â you muttered.
âYouâre gonna have to try a little harder if you want us to be taken seriously,â he teased with a sarcastic huff, holding out his elbow for you to hook yours in.Â
Swallowing, hard, your heart finally beating steadily, you rubbed your lips together, your lipstick that he looked at, again, and said, âGuess weâll have to practice some more.â
The clock ticked on the wall, the halls silent enough the only sound to be heard were the hands counting down to five oâclock. Standing at a counter, waiting for the receptionist on your floor to return with several files Seonghwa needed to finish a sale with one of his loyal clients of many years, you had your elbow propped up on the edge and your chin sitting on your fist.Â
It was the morning after your failed shopping date with Yunho, last night ending with stacked jokes on the way to Sanâs apartment, where you met Jongho there and spent the night shoveling take out into your mouths and playing guess that artist with Yunho until you all grew tired enough and fell asleep on the sofaâs mumbling about what new tattoos you all should get.
Snoozing on Yunhoâs shoulder, youâd be lying if you said what heâd done to you didnât stick with you. Pushing you up against a wall like you had done to him, except instead of mimicking a neighbor's hookup, he spoke real words to you. Words that sounded true. Words that felt true. Words you think⌠you wanted to be true. Youâve never heard him speak that way, his voice low and gravely, the things he said, dirty and hot.
Thinking back to the flings heâs had here and there, your mind wandered to the possibilities of what he said to them, how he treated them, an entire side of him you never once thought to ever explore. He turned you on, your body reacted to him, you wanted him to keep going, to say more, to maybe even do more than just touch his thumb to your lips like he wished it really was the tip of hisâŚ
âHey, Shug.â A chill ran down your spine, your skin erupting in a blazing fire. Jolting upright, slapping your hand to the counter top, you whirled around and met Hongjoongâs smile, a stack of papers in his hand. He occupied the space beside you, stepping into your field of energy, placing the stack right next to your hand.
âPlease donât call me that,â you said with the release of a breath.
Hongjoong leaned against the desk and crossed one foot over the other. Glancing around the stranded lobby, he smiled before he pointed his eyes at you. âFind a date to the gala yet?â
Okay, straight to the point, damn. Time to lock in. Your stomach sank.
âYes,â you squeaked, voice high pitched and nervous.
He perked a brow, his eyes drawing your body and the outfit you had thrown together this morning after running home from Sanâs with a half hour to spare. You were almost late this morning, and your oversized button down and wrinkled slacks let everyone know.
The corners of his lips perked up. âWild night?â
âNo,â you pushed through your lips.
Hongjoong met your eyes and laughed, shaking his head. âYeah, right. Look at you. That your boyfriend's shirt?â Scoffing, you looked down at yourself, and he laughed again. It was in fact Yunhoâs shirt, one he didnât use anymore, a white button down that would fit his chest snugly. It hung off of you, but this wasnât the first time you had worn it.
âThis is mine,â you stated with a point of your finger to your belly.
Hongjoong furrowed his brows, but his smile remained. âYou sure you didnât pick it up off his floor this morning?â
âNo, Joong, itâs mine.â
âCoulda sworn he spent the night putting you through the mattress, at least from what I saw,â he snickered, averting his eyes to behind the desk. âSmooth talker, huh?â
Your blood ran cold. âWhat?â
Hongjoong laughed. âYou let him talk dirty to you? I know you like a filthy mouth.â
Eyes bugging, you laughed with him, nervously, and knitted your hands together. âI-I-I donât know what youâre⌠what youâre talking about, what are youâŚâ
âI saw you,â he said, plainly, giving you a look. âOn the corner of 7th, he had you pinned to the wall, his hands on you, talking all quiet.â He popped his brows and swung his hand about as he spoke. âIâve never seen you look the way you did, all doe eyed, like he held your consciousness in his hands, so submissiveââ
âShut up,â you snapped.
He raised a brow, his lazy smile wicked. âTell me again how the shirt isnât his, how you werenât letting him defile you last night, go ahead.â
âI didnât, itâs notââ
He kept going. âThought youâd let him take you right there on the street corner, I mean, damn, how long have you been in love with this guy, I wouldâve thought you had something for me if I didnât catch you two like that, does he know what a flirt you can be?â Leaning toward you, he popped his lips as he mumbled, âA brat?â
âOh my god,â you muttered, pressing your front to the desk, knitting your fingers in your hair, staring at the linoleum. âHurry up, hurry up, hurry up.â Willing the receptionist back in whispers, Hongjoong heard, and fucking laughed.
âHe probably gets off on it, right? Knowing youâve got a little game going with me, he probably loves to hear all about it so he can fuck it out of you. Claim you.â
âHongjoong, shut up. Leave me alone.â
He took a step closer to you, dipping his chin down. âNo, I want you to be able to run home to have the fuck of your life after you tell him about this. Let him know that when I saw you over here all alone in his shirt, I envisioned what itâd be like to rip it off of you and spread you open on Ms. Kimâs desk, and how I wouldnât care if she came back and caught us.â
Pressing your hands to your face, shaking your head, you sucked air in through your lips, and for the first time, you wished Yunho were here to stop him.
âMatter of fact, Wooyoung likes to watch,â he smirked, âHeâd love a show. Would probably get a raise,â his fingers touched your shoulder, gently, but with purpose, piercing through the fabric of your shirt, âJust gotta make sure he can see your tits, so he canââ
âHongjoong,â Seonghwaâs voice echoed off the ceiling, booming through the empty space. Clenching your jaw, tears welling up in your eyes, you clawed at your scalp. He tore his hand off of you, moving faster than youâve ever witnessed. âWhat am I hearing?â
A sigh came out of him as he took a step away from you, his hands folding on the desk. âPlease, she likes it.â
Seonghwa scoffed. âI guarantee you, she does not. Y/n?â
Peeling your hands away from your face, you pushed your hair back and turned to look at him. With a face full of sorrow, he waved a hand toward him, coercing you closer. âGo into my office and wait for me there. Weâll file a report together, but Iâd like to personally hand his ass to him face to face.â
Only able to give him a nod, you wrapped your arms around yourself and hurried down the hall, straight into Seonghwaâs office, though you longed to linger and listen to what your boss had to say.
you: It worked..... He's pissed off or something..
yun: What happened.
you: I get what you guys mean now.. How he talks..
yun: Call me. Now.
you: Iâll tell you laterâŚ.. Do you have to see Jag????? You havenât mentioned him
yun: He hasnât needed me.. Iâm yours tonight.
Outside of a store with gowns on mannequins in the windows, you and Yunho stood elbow to elbow against the glass, appreciating the bustle of the people on this side of a neighborhood you longed to spend more time in. Similar to your own, this one had more structure to its freedom, like the people here knew exactly what they wanted and what they brought to table. It filled you with a sort of peace, clarity, like your dreams were right in front of you, and you could snatch them without remorse.
âDonât say I told you so,â you muttered, and Yunho hummed.
âNever,â he said flatly, eyes scanning the heads that passed by. âIâm sorry that happened. Heâs a dick.â
Looking up at him, you pinched your brows. âThatâs all?â
He glanced back in shock. âWell, I canât exactly go and kick his ass can I? If I do, youâll lock me up and force me to marry you and have several kids, live a suburban life, I dunno.â
Laughing, throwing your head back, you gasped, âWhat!?â
Yunho held up his hands, his wide eyed expression growing tenfold. âAre those not your conditions for me putting my hands on him? I pushed him, so we have to date, what do you think youâll make me do if I beat him up?â
âSign a prenup,â you giggled, shoving him with your elbow. His obnoxious nod and the unintelligible sound he made answered for him. âIâm sorry,â you sighed, leaning your head against his arm. âMaybe we shouldnât do the dating thing, maybe you just come with me to the gala as my bodyguard.â
âIt makes me sad that you even have to think that way,â he mumbled.
Glancing up at him, your cheek squished on his bare arm, he looked down and smiled. âSeonghwa will be there, you donât even have to come if you donât want to, I donât wanna subject you to hanging around these kinds of guys for hours on end.â
Squinting, he said, âIâd rather be with you to save you from having to hang around those guys for hours on end. Iâm coming to the gala whether you like it or not, Shug.â
âShug,â a womanâs voice parroted, one a little rough, a little grungey. âYou really do call her that.â Yunho broke out into a grin, tossing his head back bashfully, trying hard as hell to negate all accusations as you pushed off the window to greet his friend.Â
Stunning didnât cut it. Ki, her name as sharp as she was, but not as simple. Covered in tattoos, doused in silver jewelry and piercings, her hair styled like sheâd had it professionally done, you couldnât help but let your jaw drop. Another girl stood with her, as close to her as you stood to Yunho, looking nothing like Ki. A little more indie, maybe bohemian, whereas Ki bled straight rock ân roll.Â
Her smile smacked you in the face, perfect and dazzling. Holding out her hand amidst Yunhoâs rebuttals, she introduced herself. âYouâre exactly like he described,â she shook her head, giving you a onceover, âIâm Ki, this is Riley,â she said giving a nod to her friend who smiled and gave you a wave of her fingers. âHope itâs okay you deal with both of us, you seem to fit right in between our vibe, I figured we could both give you a hand.â Her eyes flickered up at Yunho. âHeâs not gonna know what heâs doing. You need girlfriends.â
Giggling, you looked up at him and he shrugged shamefully.
âYouâre lucky he called,â Ki breathed, taking your wrist in her hand and Rileyâs in the other. Giving Yunho a glare, she muttered, âYouâre lucky Jag has let you have so much time off.â
âTime off?â you asked, bouncing back and forth between them. âYou said he hasnât needed you,â you said to Yunho, whose eyes widened.
Ki pursed her lips, her saccharine smile enough to woo you, youâre not sure how Yunho hasnât been wooâed yet. He said something back to her, with his eyes, an implication he didnât want to speak further, a white flag of sorts. You arenât sure how much time they spent together at Republic, though her name has come up plenty of timesâ Comparing the two of you.
âLetâs go, Shug,â Ki joked, tugging you and Riley along, into the store, leaving Yunho to trudge behind. âIâll take the left side, Ri you take the right, Miss Sugar can take the middle.â
Yunho let the door swing shut behind him. âWhat about me? Do I get a say?â
Riley gave him a small smile. âIf the boyfriend shopping thing is universal, I suggest you sit this one out.âÂ
Ki seemed to know what she was talking about with the way she laughed and nudged her shoulder, her bright smile and confident laugh bouncing around the racks of dresses. âHeâs not her boyfriend, but still, sit this one out,â she said to both of them before the group broke into four.
With a sheepish shrug, Riley pulled her lips together and turned on her heels. Ki tossed her hair off of the shoulder of her lace tank and bolted for a black dress on a mannequin in the window. Yunho, he smiled at you when you turned to him, and waved you away to follow the girls.
âSheâs cool,â you whispered, flickering your eyes over to Ki.
Yunho narrowed his eyes and smiled wider, whispering, âI knew youâd say that.â Smiling back at him, for too long, feeling your insides fill with warmth, a sort of comfort knowing heâd do something like this for you, he glanced at both of the girls on either side of the store and shooed you away.
You took to Riley first, who was already looking your way with her hands on a dress. Painting a smile onto your lips, you approached her in her oversized vintage Screen Actors Guild tee and clasped your hands together. Before you had the chance to open your mouth, she cut you off.
âThis oneâs gorgeous,â she mumbled, holding the emerald dress up in front of you, pressing it to your chest like sheâs known you for ages. âI think this really goes with your skintone, but Iâm not loving the straps, I think you shouldâ Wait, how are you doing your hair?â Her eyes narrowed, studying you, drawing all over the bare skin you exposed today. âYouâre fun, arenât you? How many tattooâs do you have?âÂ
âI got a few when Iâd been drinking honestly, my friends know this guy who does them underground, yanno, so I have to have at leastââ
âSo cool,â she said without letting you finish, âI love tattooâs, but I have to keep them hidden.â
âHow come?â you asked, watching as she hung up the emerald dress and pulled out a few others, giving you glances over her shoulder.
âBroadway,â she said with utter nonchalance. âBut, my boyfriend and I, we both have a matching one on ourâ Oh my god,â she sighed, turning toward you, grabbing your wrists, âIâm so sorry, by the way, for implying that Yunhoâs your boyfriend.â
Giggling, you shook your head. âDonât worry about it, I know how it looks, itâs reallyââ
âIâm sorry, though,â she said with a pout, âI have chronic foot in mouth disease, itâs severe, just ask Ki, or donât, I donât need this getting worse. Iâm not good at this. I have a lot of guy friends.â
Shifting your hands around, grabbing onto hers that held onto you, you comforted her with a smile and shook your head. âSo do I, I understand.â
âHey, Glucose!â Ki shouted from across the store, waving her hand in the air, her bracelets jingling.Â
Yunho picked his head up from where he rifled through suit jackets, almost shrieking within a laugh, âGlucose!â
Riley let go of you and gave you a gentle push on your back. By the time you made it to Ki she had already sent Yunho back into his silenced role, giving you the tiniest of smiles as you were subdued to more dresses being held up in front of you. Shooting him a wink, one he made a face of disgust at, you giggled, and Ki paused.
âHeâs something, huh?â she asked, tearing her eyes from yours when you looked at her. The black dress she held had lace on the bodice, like her tank, and it was tight fitted, all the way to the bottom. âYou might not be able to move in this, but I like black for you, what do you think?â
âI love black, sure.â
Pulling at the fabric, her eyes on the dress she held up, she muttered, âI meant Yunho.â Ki met your eyes with a glimmer in hers. âI got the story, y/n. He actually wouldnât shut up. Whenever I see him at work, I get updates about you, instead of himself. When he asked me to come here he sounded so⌠worried. I thought, how can this girl have this boy whoâs like chronically relaxed in this much of a fucking tizzy?â
âOh,â you breathed, half following. She hung up the tight dress and pulled out another, one dark blue and Cinderella-esque. You both crunched your noses before she could even bring it in front of you. âHow about that one?â Pointing to a black dress with long sleeves, she listened and held it up.
Tilting her head to the side, her striking eyes drinking in your form, she continued quietly, âHope itâs okay I brought Riley, I didnât want to be third wheel. Plus, I havenât spent time with her in a bit. I like this oneâ Yunho!â He scurried over to her side, accepting the dress she tossed him. âTrying this one on,â she said and waved him off, âShoo.â
Flashing you a smile, his face telling you he was just happy to be here, he returned to where he came from.
âYou spend a lot of time at work, right?â Following her, like a shadow, you eyed her tattooed fingers as they grazed over satins and velvets before snatching one. âYunho says youâre like⌠Really important.â
Her lips perked up. Holding up a velvet grey a-line, it didnât make it two inches in front of you before she swapped it for a strapless black satin floor length thing. âI guess I am. Heâs sweet,â she took a breath, âBut, yeah, I spend a lot of time at work, I travel a shit ton, and Ri lives here in the city. I do too, butâŚâ
âBut?â you questioned, and she shrugged it off.
âA story for another time,â she smiled.Â
âUh, Riley told me she has a boyfriend, are you, uh, seeing anyone?â
She gave you a look over her shoulder. âWhy, interested?â
Bushing, you pushed a breath through your lips and stepped in a tiny circle. âYouâre gorgeous, but no,â you laughed, âIâm into someone else.â She glanced at Yunho, and you rolled your eyes. âNo, heâs⌠just a friend.â
âDoes he know that?â she asked, flicking through the dresses.Â
âYes,â you said definitively, brows going awry.
Ki nodded, slowly, pulling out a black gown she didnât bother to hold up in front of you. âYunho!â Like clockwork, he appeared, with several more dresses in tow.
âWho gave you these?â Ki asked.
Yunho blinked. âRiley.â
Taking in the dresses of various colors and lengths, Ki mumbled, âDamn thespian.â
âWe need options!â Riley shouted across the store.
âShe heard you,â you laughed, and Ki smirked.
âQuiet isnât my specialty.â She tossed the dress over Yunhoâs arms, and as he disappeared she asked, âWho are we into, Miss Sugar? If itâs not that hunk of alt sweetness the girlies eat up at the label.â
The girlies. Turning to find where he disappeared to, you found him at Rileyâs side, the girl shorter than you, craning her neck back to look up at him. Her smile, soft, but her giggle, loud. Ki followed your line of sight and scoffed.
âHeâs too tall for her, trust me,â she muttered, lower this time, âPlus, sheâs like, locked in with her man. Trust me.â
âIs she?â you asked within a whisper.
Ki gave you a look, raising a brow. âQuiet isnât her specialty. Theyâre crazy theatre kids, theyâre⌠gross. One time I saw themââ
âAnd what about you?â
She rolled her eyes, enormously long. The breath she let out was just as long. âDonât worry about me. You donât wanna hear what itâs like being caught between two guys, one perfect for you, who knows everything about you, your secrets, your shadows, but then the other is capable of satiating a hunger you didnât know you had.â
âWhat happened? After⌠the⌠satiating. I assume he wasnât good for you?â
Ki held up a dress and pursed her lips. Shifting from the dress to your face, she released a breath and shrugged. âI was still hungry.â This dress she held onto herself. âListen, he didnât put me up to this, but I know about this other guy youâre into. Take it from me, as someone whoâs been involved with a colleague. You have this fucking amazing guy right here,â she said, gesturing behind her toward Yunho who trailed behind Riley like a puppy. You almost spoke, but she cut you off. âI know, youâre friends. But, let him be an example. Of the types of guys you should be looking for.â
âDamn,â you uttered, lowering your chin with a snicker.
Ki furrowed her brows. âWhat?â
Giving her a look, you shook your head. âHe didnât update you about what happened today, I guess. You donât have to give me the speech, Iâm not Hongjoongâs biggest fan anymore. I know itâs been his obsession to rid me of him, Iâm sorry he pulled you into this, but Iâm good. Thanks for coming to help me, but I donât need a pep talk.â
She tried to stop you, but you pushed past her, towards the fitting rooms. Holding a hand in the air to signal Yunho, she pointed at the back of you and shrugged. âI dunno what I did, thatâs all you.â
Ignoring the worker who asked you if you needed any help, you stepped into a fitting room empty handed and let the door swing shut, pressing your back against the wall. Tears brimming your eyes, you took a shaky breath and released it all at once.
Everything cycled through your head, memories flashing all at once, from Hongjoongâs almost invitation to the gala, to the night Yunho pushed him, to yesterday when Yunho had you on the corner questioning everything you thought you knew about your relationship.
Why were you questioning everything you thought you knew about your relationship? You never have before, this wasnât normal. He was Yunho, your best friend Yunho.
Comfort is all that it is. Familiarity.Â
Youâve just perhaps reached a point in your friendship where you care too deeply, because you know so much, because youâve spent all this time with him, and now that itâs at a point where the lines seem to be starting to blur because youâre going to have to pretend to date him, itâs confusing.
Thatâs what it is. You couldnât think that again if you tried. You wouldnât even be able to say those words out loud. Did it make sense? You shouldnât be spiraling about this, you should be spiraling about the fact that Hongjoong made some serious threats to you today, if you could even call them threats. You didnât want to call it what it was, but Seonghwa sure did, and he had no shame in doing so.
Work tomorrow should be a blast, if heâs even there. The gala is right around the corner, would he even be allowed to attend after this? Groaning through a cry, you tipped your chin back and shook your head. Of course heâd still be allowed to attend, these men got away with everything. Heâd be able to do what he said heâd do and he wouldnâtâ
âShug?â Three gentle taps to the fitting room door.
âI need a minute,â you steadied your voice as best as you could.
âI have your dresses,â he said softly. âWanna try them on while you take your minute?â
Reaching for the door handle, you pulled it open and met his eyes, taking the pile from him. âThanks,â you sniffled.
He frowned. âYou okay?â
âDo I look okay?â
âNo,â he whispered. âWhat happened?â
Hardening your glare, you mumbled, âGo talk to Riley.â
He blinked, confused. âWhat?â
âOr Ki, maybe thatâs better,â you huffed, âShe seems to know so much already, go tell her some more.â
You threw the door shut, but he caught it. âHang on, what are you talking about?â
âLeave me alone,â you said, hanging the dresses up. Pushing on the door to push him out, it was silly of you to forget he was much, much stronger than you. Bumping the handle as he fumbled his way in, there was an audible click as the door slammed shut and his back pressed to it. The already small room grew smaller. Two bodies and a stack of at least thirteen dresses in one tiny New York space, one of those bodies over six feet tall. You couldnât turn around without bumping into him. âI have to try these on, get out of here,â you muttered.
His jaw tensed. Staring at you for all of three seconds, he took a deep breath and spun around, facing the door, away from you.Â
âYunhoââ
âSomeoneâs gotta zipper you.â
Sighing, losing this fight, you said, âDonât turn around.â
âYou already know I wouldnât do that.â
Even this felt weird, and it shouldnât. Youâve changed in front of him before, youâve been half naked and drunk in front of each other, youâve seen him in his boxers, heâs seen you in a bathing suit, this shouldnât be so vulnerable, so⌠intimate.Â
Ki implied, several times, that Yunho, quite possibly, maybe, cared about you too much. Maybe in a sense that you havenât been able to pick up on until now. Pulling your shirt over your head, you tossed it over his shoulder, smiling at the inaudible laugh he heaved. Even though yesterday on the street, where he said some things you never imagined would ever leave his lips, when he pulled away, he acted as though it was for the gala. That you guys were practicing. Come to find out Hongjoong had seen you. Hongjoong had seen you.
Slipping out of your shorts, kicking off your shoes, you tossed the denim over his other shoulder. âYunho?â
âYeah?â
You took a blue dress off a hanger and stepped into it. âYesterday,â you started, shimmying the tight fabric over your hips, slinging the spaghetti straps over your shoulders, âDid you see Hongjoong?â
His head tilted to the side, reluctantly asking, âWhen?â
âZip me?â
He turned, and his eyes softened at the sight of you in the mirror. The bodice hugged your chest, blue satin cascading down your form to the floor so that you could so wear those silver heels with this. The fabric was bound over your middle, in three ripples slipping over your right hip and around the back like a waterfall.Â
âWow,â he breathed before snapping out of it, tearing his eyes off of your curves and onto the zipper at the middle of your back. Sliding it up, careful to not let his fingers graze your skin, he stepped back against the door and waited for your consensus.
Gliding your hands over the satin, over the chest, you pouted your lips and shook your head. âI like this,â you said, taking your hands to your hips. Yunhoâs eyes followed. âBut, I donât like this,â you said, grabbing fistfuls of your tits. Yunhoâs eyes followed.
âI do,â he whispered without thinking. Meeting his glare in the mirror, shock evident on both of your faces, you let out a laugh, and he let out a groan. âOh my god?â Rolling his eyes at himself, he vigorously shook his head and reached for the zipper, freeing you before he spun around and banged his head against the door. He snatched your clothes off of his shoulders and hung them over the door, huffing to himself.
âItâs okay,â you said, sliding the dress off, opting for a black one Ki had set aside. âPractice, right?â
Yunho hung his head, shaking it like he had. âThat wasnât cool, Iâm sorry.â
âDonât be,â you whispered, stepping into the lace.Â
âYou look pretty today,â he whispered. âYou always do. When I got to your apartment, and I watched you put this lipstick on, I just,â he shook his head, âCouldnât not think about⌠it.â
Sliding it up your body, this one strapless, you held it tight to your chest and felt along your back that the zipper laid right over the curve of your ass. Glancing behind you in the mirror at his broad shoulders, wider than you, you took a second to admire how much larger than you he actually was. Gentle giant.Â
Ki met your eyes with a glimmer in hers. âI got the story, y/n. He actually wouldnât shut up. Whenever I see him at work, I get updates about you, instead of himself. When he asked me to come here he sounded so⌠worried. I thought, how can this girl have this boy whoâs like chronically relaxed in this much of a fucking tizzy?â
Except when it came to you.
âI do not want him to abduct me,â you spat. âYunho pushed him.â
The boys gasped, both turning to Yunho at once. San smiled, Jongho tilted his head, disappointed.
Yunho held up both hands, feigning innocence. Fluttering his eyes shut, his long lashes splaying over his cheekbones, he said calmly, âHe said some fucked up shit, okay? He got in my face, I was drunk, I couldnât not do it. Mr. Big Dick, I donât care who you are, youâre in my face, youâre talking shit to my girl, Iâm gonna do something.â
âYunho,â you whispered, and he turned, his cheeks growing pink. âZip me?â
Eyeing you in the mirror, how the lace clung to you, contouring your curves where the satin accentuated your form. Laying on top of you like it was a part of you, it hung from your thighs to the floor, the fabric free for you to move about, to dance, to walk comfortably. The chest, corset like, heartshaped and detailed with lace, it held you perfectly, every part of you. He couldnât help himself. He stared.
You watched him have to manually tell himself to stop, to focus on what you asked him to do, but when he saw where the zipper laid, he lost it again. Eyes blinking a million times, he took a step closer to you, careful to not stand on the puddle the lace left around your feet. He blushed with color, his cheeks to his ears, as pink as can be, his hands acting just the same.
A little nervous, if you had to describe it. His fingers brushed over your skin, the small of your back, and you shuddered, goosebumps erupting over your skin. âSorry,â he whispered, pulling back abruptly, not looking up at you in the glass.
âSâokay,â you whispered with a gentle nod. âYour fingers are cold.â
He shook his head once, squinting at the dress. âI-I think I have to⌠pull it up from the inside. I can get Kiââ âNo,â you sighed, stopping him from stepping away from you. âYou do it,â you said, your gazes eating one another up. You forced through your lips, âPractice, right?â
His miniscule shift in expression made your heart swell. The slight tweak of his brows, the plumping of his lips, the flutter of his lashes, all too tiny to be made out to be something, but you knew him.
Standing closer to you, your back nearly pressed to his front, he took in a breath and held it, taking the zipper between his fingers. Using his other hand to pinch the bottom, he slowly pulled up, his middle knuckle gliding up your spine, the act so gentle, so improbably erotic that you cursed yourself for how your breath hitched in your throat and the bottom of your belly clenched. It didnât help that he stood close enough that the warm air that slipped through his parted lips grazed over your skin, your bare shoulders, your bare back. Radiating heat, his own breath uneven, once the zipper reached its peak, he paused.Â
Neither of you moved. He gazed down at the dress, and you blazed a fire in his eyes through the mirror he refused to look at you through.
âCoulda sworn he spent the night putting you through the mattress, at least from what I saw,â Hongjoong snickered, averting his eyes to behind the desk.
You wondered if he could feel it. The tension disgustingly thick you could cut it with a knife. His large, strong hands, what would they feel like if he slid them down your hips in this lace? His lips, parted and dousing your skin in goosebumps with the hot air he exuded, what would it feel like if he dropped a bit lower and pressed them to your skin, the valley of your neck, the expanse of your exposed chest? Heat swelled in your belly, dropping lower, your thighs aching to squeeze together, but you wouldnât. Not now. Now you were aware.
âYunho,â you whispered desperately.
âI did see him,â he uttered quietly, finally meeting your gaze in the mirror. You wanted to melt to the floor at the sight of how lust had overcome him and he actively fought back. âI did what I did so you wouldnât see him. Iâm not proud of it. Especially now with what he did to you.â
âNot proud of it, what do youâŚâ
He sighed, standing up straight, keeping his eyes on yours. âI didnât want to do what I did,â he shrugged. âYou were already getting upset with me, I knew that if you saw him it would push you over the edge, so I had to distract you, and nothing I would normally do would work. So, I made something up.â
Dropping your hands to your side, you gaped and spun around. âMade something up?â
Huffing, he screwed his brows up. âYou thought what I said was real?â
Taken aback, you scoffed and rolled your eyes. âUh, of course not, why the hell would you say something like that to me?â
Narrowing his eyes, he bobbed his head and poked his tongue in his cheek. âRight,â he muttered after a few seconds. âRight.âÂ
Spinning around, almost bumping you with his elbow, he turned the doorknob and yanked. It didnât budge. Trying again, he yanked. He yanked, again. The walls shook.
âHow do I unlock this,â he mumbled, messing with the knob every way he could think of.Â
Sighing, you wedged yourself around him and tried to pull his hands off the gold, but he swatted at you. âLet me help,â you grumbled, âI donât want you in here anymore.â
âI donât want to be in here anymore,â he countered, tugging at your hands.
âGood, I want you to leave.â
âI want to leave.â
You threw the mindless bickers at one another for what felt like forever, until it got to the point of tears. Yours.
âYouâve been no help, I canât believe San and Jongho came up with this, this is so stupid!â
âStupid?â Yunho pressed a hand to his chest. âYou said it yourself, Iâm the one you want to do this with! Ki!â He banged a fist on the door. âThis wasnât supposed to turn into this, Shug, we were just supposed to go to the stupid gala.â
âDonât call me that,â you huffed, reaching behind you for the zipper of your dress to free yourself. âYouâre done calling me that.â
Groaning, he swatted at your hands. âLet me do it, youâll rip it.â
âNo,â you shouted, swinging your body away from him, tugging at the lace, âI got it. Iâll do it alone, like Iâll do the gala alone!â
âYouâre not doing the gala alone,â he said, in a fistfight with your fingers. Let⌠go!â
âHands off of me, Yunho.â
âYouâre going to tear it, you like this one, this is it, donât tear it!â
Fighting back, clawing at the fabric, you finally kicked a foot back against his knees and sent him stumbling backward, but the space was too tiny so he fell into you, and before he could catch himself, you were twisted sideways, and the lace tore down your back in one long, loud rip. Hands trapped behind you where your back pressed to the wall, you gasped and froze. Yunho hung over you, both of his hands pressed to the wall above you, his body hovering on top of you.
âFuck,â you whispered.
âWhy the fuck would you kick me?â
Glaring up at him, your noses almost touching, you sneered, âWhy the fuck would you keep trying when I told you to leave?â
âI canât leave, the doorâs locked!â
âFuck this,â you said, reaching up for handfuls of his shirt. Pushing off of the wall, taking him with you, your dress slipped down as you pressed him to the opposite wall. âYou are going to climb out of here, either under or over that door, I donât care, just getââ The door swung open.
âWhoa!â Ki shouted, eyes wide, pulling the door shut in a hurry.Â
âNo!â You and Yunho both shouted, and her face went crazy.
âI donât wanna watch!â
Yunho glanced down at what this looked like, the way you gripped him and how your dress fell off your body. You had him pushed up a wall for fucks sake. Not to mention, if you had tried anything else with lace heâd find himself in a very awkward predicament. At least he could hide what it was for now.
âIâm done,â he said, reaching for your hands, making you release him. With one more look, he shook his head, and he left, not before murmuring to Ki, âStay out here, that door locks from the inside, help her out.â
As soon as the door shut you sunk to the floor and let the tears spill.
Sipping your drink, the bubbles dancing over your tongue, you laid your head back on the cushion of the sofa you sat in front of. Jongho laid over a lounge chair, a beer can in his hand hanging off the edge, his legs over one armrest, his head over the other. Faint music played in the background, something off of his phone. You didnât dare ask who made the playlist.
âIt ripped,â you said with a flick of your hand, âIt ripped right down the back, and I paid for it, because I ripped it, even though the woman says sheâs not sure if sheâll be able to fix it.â
Jongho turned his head to give you a pout. âDamn, Iâm sorry.â
âItâs whatever, I guess,â you took a swig of your drink, âIâm not meant to be at this stupid thing anyway. I need to just call Yunho, tell him itâs off, and then let Seonghwa know I wonât be going.â
âNooo,â he sang, shifting to lay on his side, tucking his knees into his massive chest. You frowned and he copied you. âI donât want to go without you.â
âYouâll have San,â you muttered with a shrug, âYou wonât miss me.â
âYes, I will,â he whispered. Sharing a look with him, one that said a trillion things about leaving a friend behind at a work event where theyâd need you because you get it, he said, âSan wonât get my jokes.â
A smile graced your lips. âHeâll learn.â
âYou canât just break it off with Yunho and come without him?â
âThereâs nothing to break off,â you said, voice growing stern, âWe are friends, that is it. I donât want to go to the gala, not anymore, not when I know Hongjoong will be there⌠And Wooyoung. Iâm done with men.â
He sighed. âI get it.â
Screwing your face up, you shifted to your knees. âI mean, you shouldâve seen his face, acting like Iâm the one who messed this up, when heâs the one who said that shit to me. Heâs the one who made me believe him, I totally thought that what he said was real. It felt real.â
Jongho marinated in silence, the gentle nods of his head encouraging you to go on.
âWhat do you take it as? âCause I took that all as real,â you huffed, not giving him time to answer you. âYou donât say stuff like that, not to a friend. Especially not a guy friend to a girl friend, because thatâs⌠thatâs justâŚâ
Crinkling his can in his hand, he shifted his lips to the side in thought. Eyes pointing from his beer, to you, he offered, âHe made you feel something.â
âYes,â you hissed without a second thought, âAnd thatâs messed up.â
âIs it?â
Shooting him daggers, you shouted, âYes!â
Jongho didnât move. He didnât even react. He simply asked, âWhy?â
âI donât⌠I donât know,â you whispered, sitting back against the couch, planting a hand to your forehead. You downed the rest of your drink, your third of the night, and sat the empty can on his coffee table.
âDid he make you feel like Hongjoong makes you feel?â Jongho asked.
Rubbing your fingers over your bare eyes, your bare face, you shook your head. âNo,â you answered honestly.Â
âHowâd he make you feel?â
Giving him a look, he laughed.
âTell me,â he teased, âI wonât judge.â
Taking a long, deep breath, you folded your arms over your front, your cozy hoodie, and released the air with a heavy sigh, one gravely and rough, a groan of sorts. Looking away from him, whether out of embarrassment or bashfulness, you lifted your shoulders and teetered your head side to side. âI wanted him to keep going,â you said, shifting your eyes over to him to see if he reacted. He didnât. âI wanted⌠to know what else he would say. I wanted him to finish his sentence, and tell me what he really wanted.â
âThatâs not bad at all,â he said quietly, finishing his beer.
The music changed into a softer song, one from the nineties. You recognized it, Yunhoâs played it before, a one hit wonder gone rogue, never heard from again. You thought about him and how his brain worked, how passionate he felt about music, the joy it brought him, how it changed his mood in a snap, the way heâs devoted so much of his life to the art. No limits, thatâs what heâd say music made him feel, immortal, everlasting, whole.
The songs he would send you in the morning when he knew you had a long day ahead of you, or when he knew the day would be a hard day, they always worked. As if he could feel what you were feeling, the tunes he prescribed cured you, in every which way. He cared. Deeply. San and Jongho didnât get the songs. You did. And you havenât gotten one in over a week.
Shifting onto all fours you crawled over to Jongho and wiggled his phone out of his pocket. Swiping open to his music, ignoring the dirty message from San on his home screen, you typed a title into the search bar, and you tapped on it. Turning the volume up, the song crashed through the speakers, bright and excited and invigorating, like Yunho himself burst through the door and lit up the room. The first verse led you into a story, a love song in disguise, one unlike any other, hidden behind a facade of futuristic melodies. And then the chorus hit, and your heart swelled.
âIâll stop the world and melt with you⌠Youâve seen the difference, and itâs getting better all the time⌠Thereâs nothing you and I wonât doâŚâ
Haunted by memories, becoming a cage for them to flutter about in, you curled around your knees you tucked into your chest and buried your face in your arms.
All of the nights heâs walked you home from Danteâs, all of the nights heâs stayed, falling asleep either on your couch or in your bed on top of the covers still in your clothes from the bar. The days heâd swing by the office to drop off a new album find he thought youâd like, or bring you a coffee, or offer to take you to lunch, or to grab you something on his way to the label. This entire week, how heâs blown off work, or called out, or told Jag heâs not coming in, so that he can take you around the city and shop for a god damn company gala he agreed to fake date you at just to make your work crush jealous.
The way he looked at you the very first time you stepped into the record store, in a distressed denim jacket over top a short black dress that hugged your thighs, one that matched the boots on your feetâ Boots youâve since retired because they cannot handle the lengths you have to walk through the city. His eyes, they lit up. Half slumped over the counter with his chin in his hands watching the tourists flit about the rows of records just to not buy anything, when he saw you, he knew his luck had changed.
It was when he used to load his lobes with earrings, one of the first things you noticed, how he didnât care how insane he may look to others. After picking up The Runaways Queens of Noise cassette, you slid it across the counter, shoved your hands in your pockets, and told him, âYouâre cool.âÂ
His slender knobby fingers grabbed the tape. Unable to take his eyes off of you, the style of your makeup, the grown out bright pink color at the tips of your hair, how confident you were in how you smiled at him. He stuttered, a lot, scanning the tape, typing something into the register, mumbling his thanks, and how he thought you looked pretty cool too⌠You laughed at him, you can remember laughing at him. With him. The sweetest, kindest, cutest New Yorker youâve run into since your move.
Just before you stepped out onto the street, he called after you, âWeâve got new stuff coming in this weekend,â he gulped as you spun to smile at him, âWeâre the only store that gets the good stuff, the real stuff, so⌠If youâre interested.â Any chance to see that face again.
âIâll be here,â youâd smiled.
Heâd given you a nod, some sort of relief washing over him. âCool.â
âCool.â
Leaping off of Jonghoâs floor, tossing his phone onto his chest where he laid, you ran your hands through your hair and hurried for your shoes at the door. He sprung off the couch as you bustled about.
âWhat are you doing?â
Shaking your head, really fast, you slipped into your sandals and waved him away. âI have to go,â you sniffled. âIâll call you later. Thanks for drinks.â Leaning into him to press a kiss to his cheek, you left him dumbfounded in his doorway.
âIâll walk you, itâs late,â he shouted down his hallway.
Turning over your shoulder, you tried to smile. âIâll see you tomorrow!â
Springing down three flights of stairs, you wiped your sleeves over your cheeks to dry them, and stepped out onto the street. Past nine oâclock, the New York nightlife bled onto the gravel, the stretches of concrete, balancing on curbs, weaving through cars, a favorite pastime of yours. And Yunhoâs. Raw dogging the walk, no music, no phone checking, no one to talk to, you held your focus forward, your pace just as pointed, focused, brisk.
Cancel it all. The thought circled like a vulture in the hot summer sun. The gala, the fake dating, the crush on Hongjoongâ Cancel it all. Get rid of it. None of this would happen, everything would go back to normal, and you wouldnât be overthinking your feelings for Yunho. You already havenât talked to him in three days, the dressing room incident having happened over seventy two hours ago. His hands touching you like you were the most delicate thing to exist. The way your bodies both reached for one another. How he told you everything he said wasnât real.
âNot real my ass,â you muttered to yourself, stopping at a corner.
You crossed before the light turned, the tourists around you wide eyed and curious that a Do Not Cross didnât stop you. They followed you, and you knew what they felt within them, the first time you darted across a street with the possibility of traffic incoming, little to nothing compared to that feeling. Doing everything for the first time in the city, the freedom, the anonymity, no limits, as if you were immortal, everlasting, whole. New York was your music.
âThe futureâs open wideâŚâ
Yunho was your music.
Summer air whipped through your hair, breezed over your skin, a type of fresh laced with a grunge you could taste, grit, determination, the opportunity to restart day after day, to become someone new, to step into who you were meant to be. Even alone on the street, strangers passed by, most you didnât mind, they lived the life you envied, the life you came here to pursue, you had no fear. Somewhere he was here.
Yunho, a summer night on 32nd street, barreling up and down the sidewalks mouthing off, daring one another to go up to the karaoke bars, to flirt with the bartenders for free drinks, to climb the scaffolding and scream from the top of your lungs, just to fall into one another in fits of laughter before plopping down on a curb on the corner of 33rd and 5th Avenue to admire the Empire State Building. Dozing off on his shoulder as the liquor and rumble of the streets sung you to sleep. Having wandered too far from home, faced with an hour's walk back to your apartment⌠He tucked you under his arm, kept you awake by making you guess the songs he would sing, and he got you both on the subway and home before you realized you had to be up for work in three hours.Â
Faced with dirty looks from others as you pushed through a crowded street corner, you eyed the lights, the crosswalk, and the moment the lights changed and the cars stopped, you ran. Even after you hit the curb, you kept running, skipping sideways through groups of girls in tiny party dresses, rounding men with trash cans by the curbs, dodging doors that swung open onto the street. You ran until his building came into view.
Sucking down air like it was your job, you stepped into the vestibule and pressed 323. Pressing a hand over your heart that pounded, you waited. He didnât answer.
âCâmon,â you gasped, pressing it again. It buzzed. You waited. He didnât answer.
âFuck,â you cursed, pulling your phone out. Swiping to his number, you tapped it, pressing your phone to your ear. âCâmon, câmon, câmon⌠Pick up.â
âYour call has been forwarded to an automatedââ
âFuck!â
Leaning into the keypad, you pressed 323 eight times, quickly, before giving up with a groan. Kicking the wall, you staggered backward and sunk against the wall, staring at his apartment number like youâd be able to open it with your eyes. You tried his phone again, but he didnât answer.
He should be home by now, he never stayed at the label this late. Unless he was making up for all the time he lost dealing with you, he never worked past eight, and usually got back by eight thirty. He could be with San, if you werenât all out together, those two sometimes went out on their own, but it was Sunday.
About to tap his number again, or maybe Jongho, the inside door to the building pushed open, a woman in a knee length dress with curled hair holding it open for you. âOh, here you go,â she said sweetly, her deep purple colored lips twisting into a smile. âIâve seen you before.â
âThank you,â you breathed, taking the door from her hands. Making sure it closed, you glared up the stairs and shook your head. âSix,â you spat. Go.
By floor three you were already winded. By floor five you propelled yourself up with your hands, slapping the concrete of the next step like it was your bitch. By floor six, you had to stop at the top and catch your breath. Several years in the city and the stairs were still your kryptonite.Â
He better fucking be here.
Trudging down the hallway of concrete floor and old brown walls, you stopped in front of 323 and held up a fist, freezing before you could pound on it.
What were you going to say? Would you apologize? Would he apologize? Neither of you had anything to apologize for, this was⌠dumb. Did you think you would show up at his door and tell him⌠that you donât know what youâre feeling? That youâre confused, that you think you might like him, that your feelings may be deeper than you thought, that you screwed up six years ago and friendzoned him and he was too sweet to act further? To take it further? Even though the way he pressed his thumb to your lips, the way he had his hands in your hair, your thoughts on the backburner, and his heart in your hands, your knees tremblingâ
âShug?â
Your heart sunk to your knees, your stomach leapt up into your throat.
Whirling around, fist still in the air, you released a sigh. âYunho.â
Wearing sweats, an unlikely outfit for him to be out and about in, accessoryless with a baseball cap on his head, he carried a garment bag folded in half and another bag slung over his shoulder, his leather bag. âWhat are you doing here?â he asked, stepping in front of you to unlock his door.
Scrambling back to give him some space, you gaped, a fish out of water. âI-I was⌠I tried calling you, but IâŚâ
âI left my phone here,â he muttered, pushing the door open. Looking at you over his shoulder, his face unreadable, he asked, âYou coming in?â
Stepping over the threshold, following him onto the hardwood of his kitchen, you folded your hands over your belly and bit down on your tongue before blabbing, âIâm here to apologize.â
Setting the bags down on the kitchen table he and San share, he creased his forehead and moved to hang up his hat on the handle of a kitchen cabinet. Popping the fridge open, he eyed the shelves. âApologize for what?â
âForâŚâ You took a breath and spun in a little circle, almost catching your ankles together. âForââ
Facing him, he waited patiently, holding out a water bottle for you to take. Reaching for it tentatively, he shoved it into your palm. âYou smell like alcohol.â
âI was at Jonghoâs,â you muttered, all emotion leaving your face. He grabbed the back of his hoodie and pulled it over his head, his t-shirt lifting underneath, flashing you his middle. His toned, golden skinned middle. Averting your gaze, you faced away from him and sipped from the water.Â
Dressed down, entirely bare aside from the cotton that hung off of him, your apparent new attraction grew tenfold. His shirt was huge, his sweats were huge, but they were tight. They were tight in theâ
âAre you okay?â he asked.
Snapping your eyes to his, you widened yours and nodded. âYes,â you breathed, then screwed your eyes shut, âI mean, no, no, Iâm not.â
âHow did you get here?â He moved around his kitchen, searching for snacks in the cabinet. He was going to try to feed you. Hurrying to his side, you closed the doors he opened, and he gave you a crazed look.Â
âI ran,â you said.
He froze. Hands in the air hovering in front of a handle, he laughed aloud once, then turned to press his backside to the counters. âYou ran,â he parroted, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps rippled under the loose sleeves. The veins on his forearms, they ran through his elbow to his fingertips. His fingers, they⌠âShug.â
âYeah,â you sighed breathlessly, fluttering your lashes as you looked up at him.
His brown eyes narrowed. âWhat is up?â Whether your movements were liquor fueled or entirely not your own, you reached for his arms, smoothing your hands over his skin. Face faltering, his eyes shot open as you stepped in front of him, your knees parting around his where they stuck out. âYouâre drunk,â he said.
âIâm really not.â
âYes, you are.â
âThen catch up,â you whispered, pressing your fingertips into his skin.
âWhat are you here for?â
You glanced at the fridge. âHave a drink first.â
Groaning, getting nowhere with you, he gently moved you out of the way and scoured his fridge for a beer while you rifled through the cabinet over the sink and pulled down a bottle of vodka.
âOh no,â he snickered, âI donât think so. Put it back.â
Giving him a small smile, you acquired two shot glasses from their resting place. Placing the bottle and the glasses on the counter with a rattle of the glass, you poured out two and knocked one back. âYou tell the truth when youâre drinking,â you cringed, nudging his shot closer to him.
The confusion that lived in his eyes since he came up the stairs somewhat subsided, but was still present. Downing half of his beer at once, typical male, he reached for the shotglass with his other hand and shook his head before taking it. Smacking it to the counter top with a groan and a gasp, he said, âIâm gonna hate you tomorrow morning.â
âMaybe,â you said, small and quiet.
âWhat is going on?â He finished his beer and crunched the can in one hand, throwing it into the kitchen sink with a clang. Pouring two more shots, you held up the glass for him to clink his with yours, and you took them at the same time. âFuck,â he sneered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.Â
Coughing once, you managed, âWeâre not going to the gala.â
Eyes shooting open, he cocked his head aside and he poured two more shots. âYouâre not serious, weâre good, so what, we argued, weâve done that before, weâllââ
âNot like that,â you said, and he frowned.
âWhat do you mean?â
Clinking your glasses, you both took your third shot and exclaimed aloud. Swallowing thickly, you pointed at him, leaning over the counter he stood on the opposite of. âWeâve never argued⌠like that.â
Yunho shrugged, pointing his eyes at the glasses. âWhatever.â
Slamming a hand to the counter, you laughed. âThatâs all you have to say? Whatever? Youâre agreeing with me.â
âAm not,â he spat, giving you a crazed look. âYou were bugging out over what happened with that fuckass asshole, and you decided to take it all out on me!â
Scoffing, laughing, maybe both at once, you sprung up and held out your hands. âWould you like me to tell you I wasnât even thinking about him at all?â
Yunho sneered, âBullshit, youâre always thinking about him. Him and that god awful attitude, cocky son of a bitchââ
âI was thinking about you,â you shouted, pouring two more shots.
Yunho pushed off the counter and gripped his chin, pulling at his lips. Parading around the kitchen with one hand on his hip. âHeâs horrible, heâs horrible, and the shit that he says, and the way he says it, like itâs okay. He talks to all women like that, not just you, but itâs worse because it is you, and Iââ
âYunho,â you raised your voice, moving around the counter to grab onto his arms again, shaking him. âDid you hear me?â
Shaking his head, still lost in his thoughts, he tensed his jaw. âI didnât, Iâm so angry, he pisses me the fuck off.â
âDonât let him,â you said softly, dragging your hands over his biceps, his forearms, his hands. âHeâs not worth it.â
His ragged sigh washed over you. âHeâs not, but fuck, he really gets under your skin, how did you put up with him for so long, I justâŚâ
âI donât know,â you mumbled, answering him between his rambles, âBut, Iâm done. Iâm over it.â Your fingers tangled with his briefly, his distracted mind subconsciously grabbing onto them, letting you do whatever it is you wanted to do to him in this moment.
âHe needs to be fired, he needs to be reported and firedâŚâ
âSeonghwaâs taking care of it, I donât think heâll get fired.â Sliding your hands from his arms to his middle, you step closer to him and drug them under his shirt, your fingertips finally grazing his middle, his core, his toned belly. He didnât even realize, he just let you.
âEven if he doesnât, there needs to be something done with the CEOâs or something, shit, I donât even know what theyâre even called, I donât know how this shit works, I just know itâs fucked up, and youâve been subjected to it for so longâŚâ
Placing your palms over his belly, your breath hitching in your chest as you gazed up at him while you felt him, how his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath, how his abs clenched with every bite of a word, your blood ran red hot. His lips, moving a mile a minute, you donât remember when you stopped listening, you wanted to listen, but all you could think about was how they felt, what theyâd feel like on yours, wrapped around yourâŚ
âShug.â His voice was quiet.
Looking up at him, how close the two of you had gotten, how he had backed up against the kitchen cabinets, how you were pressing yourself to him. Your hands got greedy, you were gripping him with a vengeance, feeling him up from his belly to his chest, your fingers were peeking out of the neck of his shirt. âYunho,â you whispered, shameless.
Blinking heavily in the dim light of his kitchen, he dropped his chin, your noses millimeters apart. âDid you say⌠Youâre over it?â
Both hands slid over his chest and up to his shoulders, pressing your thumbs into the muscles. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you took a breath in time with him and nodded, slowly, whispering, âI did.â
A curse pushed through his lips, one you couldnât make out in the slur of the liquor. âWhat are you thinking about right now?â
You dropped your hands lower, your fingertips grazing his nipples on purpose before you gripped his belly. Proud of how he hissed and flinched, you smiled. âYou,â you said, blinking up at him. âWhat you said to me, and how you said it⌠How it made me feel.â
Breathless, he sighed, âHow did it make you feel?â
âLike,â you gulped, using all liquid courage to make these words work, âLike, I wanted⌠Wanted you toâŚâ
âFuck,â he whispered, then seemed to remember what he had done, what he said, what he made you feel, what he so obviously realized that he made you feel. Taking his hands to your chin, thumbs pressing into your cheeks, he tipped your head back and lowered his. Eyes burning into yours, his voice rumbled so low you could feel him in your core. âWords. Big girl, remember?âÂ
âTake me,â you whispered, and he held back a smirk. âTake me, show me, do it to me, touch me, fuck me.â His lips parted with a sigh, his brows pinching in the center. âDo what he canât, what heâll never get the chance to do, love me.â
His eyes fluttered shut, his vodka laced breath grew uneven. âHang on.. W-WaitâŚâ
âYunho,â you whined, and his eyes shot open. âI donât care about what youâre gonna tell me, about how this sâgonna ruin something, itâs not gonna happen. I hate knowing thereâs girls looking at you.â
âGirls looking at me,â he said an inside thought out loud.
âKi told me,â you grumbled, sliding your hands around his back, leaning on his chest, âThe girlies at the label love you.â
He squinted. âWhat girlies?â
âI dunno,â you said, loud, making him jump, âMaybe itâs Ki and Riley, I dunno, Yunho, do you hear me? Iâm over this Hongjoong thing, I just told you to fuck me, and youâre standing here talking to meââ
His strong hands tipped you further back, his frame caging you in against his chest. Tilting his head, he curled his lip with a curse before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss burning hot, a mess of teeth, a mess of tongues, nothing perfect, just a total hot, wet mess. Gasping for air whenever your lips parted, you took your hands out of his shirt and threw them around his neck, lifting your knees to climb onto him. Grunting through clenched teeth as he hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you higher, he groaned as your fingers knitted through his hair, giving him the gentlest tug.
âYou can pull harder than that,â he muttered, and you smiled within the kiss.Â
âJeong Yunho,â you teased, head tilting as his lips trailed down the side of your neck. He took two steps forward and sat you down on the counter beside the vodka. Tugging again, harder, he groaned, a sound trapped within his chest. âThis sâgon be fun,â you breathed.
Tongue lobbing out to lick stripes under your jaw, he nipped the skin of your neck and hummed, the noise vibrating through you. âWhaâs that,â he slurred, his hands gripping the curve of your waist, shamelessly sliding over your ass to squeeze.
âFiguring out what you like⌠What we like⌠Together.â
Connecting his lips with yours, he hummed here, smushing your noses together as he mumbled, âLet me do it.â
âHm,â you hummed back, dipping your tongue out to swipe over his lips. Nipping at it with his teeth, his heavy eyes drank in your lips, already swollen and pink.Â
âLet me do it,â he whispered, knees buckling as he tried to kiss you. Holding him by his hair, Yunho entirely leaned over you, his eyes drunk on you, his body drunk on the liquor, he licked his lips and shook his head. âYou wonât have to do a thing,â his lower register struck through you, you needed your sweats off, now. âYou wonât have to move, you wonât have to think.â Your lips parted and your eyes softened, and he smirked. âLet me do it.â
âShit,â you hushed, grabbing onto his shirt, yanking it over his head. âPlease.â He did the same with your hoodie, pulling it off of you, pleased to find nothing beneath it. He didnât miss a second. Kissing down your neck, his tongue teasing you in all the right places, he slid his hands down your thighs and pressed them open. Afraid that you soaked through the cotton, your suspicions became true when he grinned up at you. Pulling your legs closed, he forced them back open.
âDonât,â he whispered, kissing up the valley between your tits, wrapping his lip around your nipple, sucking at it harshly. The first moan fell from your lips, and he nearly crumbled. Fingers digging into your thighs, he muttered, âSo fucking perfect.â
Tugging at his hair, the strands a complete tangle now that youâve mussed them up, your head dropped back with another cry as he kissed the other, using his fingers to tease the perky bud he left a slick mess. âYunhoââ
âGod, so perfect,â he groaned, grabbing handfuls of your tits as he stood up to press an open mouthed kiss to your lips, tongues in a tangle, whines intertwining. âWanna play with you forever.â
âPlease, pleaseââ
âPlease, what?â Against your lips, he snickered, quietly, proud of what heâs done to you already.Â
âTouch me,â you whispered, sucking in a gasp as he slid his hands higher on your thighs, up to the curve of your hips, into the dips.Â
His smile against your lips made your breath shake. âCan I?â
âYunho,â you whined, trying to grind onto him, but he stood an inch too far.Â
Glancing between you, he huffed a laugh. âDid I really work you up like this?â
Pulling at his hair, tugging him closer, your noses touched as you muttered, âI wanted you to dick me down on 7th Avenue, asshole.â
âDamn,â he pulled his brows together, âReally?â Rolling your eyes, he snickered. âThereâs my girl.â You clenched around nothing, your jaw dropping open with a gasp. He dipped his thumbs over your clothed, wet, center. âOh, thatâs what you like, huh?â Writhing as his thumbs pressed into you, your moan made him pout. âOh, babe,â he cooed, dragging them up and down, slowly, on purpose. âFeel good?â
Your fingers loosened in his hair. Limbs growing gooey, you smiled something ditzy and let your eyes close. âSo good,â you whispered.
His lips ghosted your cheek, his nose pressing there instead. Rocking with you, he said, âIâm barely touching you. My girlâs needy, huh? Kept you waiting so long.â
âWhy did you?â Breath irregular, you peeked at him and whined as he grazed over your sweet spot. âWhy didnât you just tell me?â
Touching the tip of his nose to yours, he gave you a gentle kiss, one that lingered, and whispered, âI was scared.â
âDonât be,â you shook your head, feeling his thumbs still. The look in his eyes, one youâve never seen before, one heâs kept hidden for too long, and you his mirror.Â
He took a hand to your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. âI still am.â
âLet me prove this to you,â you whispered, âThat this is real.â Squishing his cheeks in your hands, you kissed him and he laughed. âLet me do what you said you want me to do, let meââ
âNo,â he said quickly, standing up straight, still taller than you even with you sitting on the countertop. âYou have nothing to prove, nothing you owe, no task to fulfill. I had guy brain, and you donât deserve guy brain.â Drinking in every word, you bobbed your head. âYou really want me?â
Whispering, you smiled, âSince I met you.â
âSince you⌠Fuck, Shug,â he tried to push away from you, but you pulled him back in, engulfing his lips in a kiss, grabbing onto his shoulders, climbing on top of him. Clinging to his front, the feel of him holding you, carrying you, so secure, you wanted him to fall to the floor and let you defile him as you pleased, but he didnât stay in the kitchen. Lips locked, he bumped into the skinny walls of the apartment as he stumbled into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.Â
The idea that San could come home at any minute didnât come to either of you, you left your shirts on the kitchen floor.
Splaying you onto his mattress, climbing over you, he gripped the waist of your sweats and pulled them off, doing the same with his own, wasting little to no time. Mouths working overtime, stifled moans swapped with the spit, he cradled the back of your knees and pushed your thighs against your chest. Parting from you, lips smacking, you caught your breath as he sat back and gazed down at you spread open for him. Shaking his head, taking in how your chest heaved, how your hair was thrown so sexily, so messy, how you glistened for him, all for him.Â
He did this to you, made you a panting, sweaty, whiney mess. You were in his bed, naked in his bed, he kissed you, he touched you, he was about to⌠Fuck. Looking between you, at how he sucked down hungry air, how he gazed at your body in disbelief, how your legs were spread, how his heavy, leaking cock would not be able to fit inside of youâŚ
âYunho,â you whispered, or gasped, it sounded the same.
He gulped and gave you a shake of his head. âTrust me?â
âYouâre so big,â you said without a second thought, and he held in his smile. âWhat the fuck, you⌠Youâve just been hiding this?â
âWouldâve let you see it if you asked me nicely,â he teased before his eyes narrowed slightly and he focused on your expression. âTrust me?â
Letting your head fall back on the mattress, you whispered, âAlways.â
Bending in half, keeping his knees under your legs, he settled on top of you, soothing your racing heart with a soft kiss to your chest before he trailed up your neck to kiss your lips. His fingers smoothed down your belly and slipped between your legs, the first real feel of him touching you, teasing your clit, twisting his fingers in long, gentle circles to work you up, though it felt like he did this for his own enjoyment.Â
Smiling as he felt your lips part and your arms wrap around his back, he pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks, groaning with you as you moaned for him with little to no regard for the neighbors. Vulnerable, sensitive, intimate, he thinks he could live right here forever and devote the rest of his life to bringing you pleasure. He grew harder, if that were possible, he thinks heâll finish untouched, until you finally beg.
âWanna feel you, wanâ you inside,â you pushed out through gusts of breath, âPlease, Yunho, need you, need you.â
âSound so pretty,â he mumbled through kisses to your skin, âGotta help me, baby, okay?â
Your whine echoed through his room as you cried, âOkay.â Brows twisting, body burning, you arched off his bed as he slid two long, slender, curved fingers inside of you.Â
âDamn, Shug,â he said through his teeth, scissoring his fingers as he slid them out of you before he pushed them back in. âTight little thing, you gonna take all of me?â
âYes,â you cried, melting into his touch, the slip of his fingers.
âDonât be an overachiever,â he cooed, nudging your nose with his, the tips of your lips brushing together.
Jaw clenching, you stilled your breath, choked back a moan as he pressed his fingers up, finding that spot with ease, and managed to say, âI could go fuck Hongjoong instead.â
Yunho saw red. You broke out into a grin, biting down on your bottom lip. Pulling his fingers out of you, he grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them over your head. Connecting his hips with yours, his cock slipping through your arousal, over your clit, he laughed as you whined, and he held you tighter, your legs, your body, folded in half.
âYouâd think Iâd see this coming,â he groveled, pressing his nose to your cheek. Angling his hips so his tip caught your entrance, he bared his teeth and spat, âMy girlâs a brat.â The pressure between your hips grew as he pushed himself into you, inch by inch, slowly, lips parting as you sucked him in, both of you. âYou want him?â His voice shook, his stomach tensed, his grip on your wrists grew even tighter.
Through a breath, you cried, âYunho,â back arching into his chest, arms and legs writhing in ecstasy, the shock subsiding leaving you completely and utterly cockdrunk.Â
âMoaninâ my name, but telling me yâwant him,â he snapped, testing the waters with a slow drag of his hips. Using one hand to hold both your wrists, he took the other between your legs, playing with you. âWho knew my girl was so messy, huh? You feel this?â The tip of his middle finger swirled over your clit, your body trembling. âSo wet,â he whispered, grazing his lips over the shell of your ear, âLet me right in, baby, you donât want him. Youâre just a needy little cockslut whoâll say anything to get what she wants, huh?â
Pleasure shot through your middle. âHâmy god,â you moaned as he moved again, each gentle thrust of his hips rendering you thoughtless. âYour mouth.â
âMy mouth?â He thrust again, harder this time. You nodded and parted your lips to speak, but he slid his finger in, the one he touched you with, spreading your own sweetness over your tongue. âTalk about yours.â Lips wrapping around the digit, you sucked as he pushed it towards the back of your throat, seeing stars as he pushed into you, harder, getting faster as he felt you relax further.
âSaying his name,â he snapped, pulling his finger out with a pop to your dismay. You whined and he shook his head. âBad girls donât get what they want, do you hear yourself?â Both of his hands held onto your wrists again. Shifting over you, pressing down on your hands, propping himself up on his knees, lifting your hips in the debauched act, he smirked. âYouâre mine.â
Insatiable, starved, entirely feral, he pistoled into you, your foreheads pressed together, your lips bumping with every other moan, every other smack of his hips against yours.Â
âYouâre mine,â he growled again, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, his breath rough and ragged. Enthralled with how you writhed, how you cried out his name, how no other word seemed to come to mind, he smiled wickedly, and you clenched around him. âSqueezinâ me already, you like to hear that? That youâre mine?â
âYes,â you whispered, your lungs filling with air that didnât seem to release, âSay it, say it.â
He let go of your hands and groaned, sliding them beneath your body, holding onto you. Burying his face in your neck, he latched his teeth to your skin as he rutted into you and moaned, âMine. No one else can fucking touch you,â he pushed himself up to his elbows to kiss you messily, âI do have a claim on you, fuck anyone else who tries. You belong to me.â
Hands clasping around his back, your nails dug into his skin, scrambled pink lines drawing over the expanse of his golden skin. Your body, gleaming with a sheen that matched his, clung to him. So full, so complete, you didnât want him to let go. Youâd spend eternity getting rocked senseless by Jeong Yunho.
The press of his lips to your skin, the clench of your belly as he pushed himself inside you to the hilt, his hands clinging to you like you were the last strain of sanity in the worldâ
âI love you,â you whispered, feeling your throat tighten. Tears welled in your eyes as he picked up his head in shock, his eyes wide, his hips slowing.Â
Mid-breath with parted lips, he brought his hands to your cheeks and held you.
âGod, donât stop,â you whined, half laughing as your tears spilled, âKeep going.â
Yunho, heart thundering in his chest, breath racking through his lungs, he shook his head and drug his thumbs under your eyes to wipe them clean. It took him eight seconds, but he whispered, âI love you too.â
Gazing up at him, trembling in ecstasy and through tears, you grabbed his cheeks and pulled him down to kiss him, hard and soft, all at once. Within it he groaned and grabbed onto you, wrapping himself around you, hitting that pace from before, hard and soft, all at once.Â
Minutes passed, several sweaty, disgusting, erotic minutes of skin on skin, becoming a part of one another. His bed had shifted, it banged into the wall, the frames of old records already shaking from the noise alone. You were too wrapped up in one another to notice, to care, to give a shit. From mewls, to moans, to giggles, to filthy words, neither of you wanted this to end, but with an ending came a promise of again.
High pitched and entirely deranged, you cried out for him, your vision searing white hot, your body doused in him, clenching around his cock, shaking in his hold, giving him the most vulnerable part of you, allowing him to drive you here, to hold you through it, to talk you through it. His swift mumbles of, âGood girl, oh fuck⌠Feels so good, I know, did so good⌠Iâm right here, right hereâ Fuck, where do you want it?â
âInside,â you whispered, voice broken, only able to hold onto him, your nose pressed to his cheek. âInside.â
The creak beneath you was obscene as he sped up, focused on his own high, spiraling you into overstim. Head going dizzy as he took you, and used you for what he wanted, what he needed, you moaned with him as he spilled into you, his teeth pressing into your shoulder as he came.
Everything went still, aside from the rise and fall of your chests. Everything went quiet, aside from the gentle noises slipping through your lips.
Lifting his head, his lids heavy, his lips swollen, he gazed down at your fucked out eyes and flushed cheeks and sighed. âYouâre so pretty,â he whispered, pushing hair from your face, planting a kiss to your cheek. Blinking up at him, you could only manage a small smile. âWas this your plan? When I found you at my door?âÂ
Shaking your head, you moved at a snail's pace, taking your hands to his cheeks, your body exhausted and trembling. âNo,â you whispered, smoothing your thumbs under his lashes, âJust wanted the truth.â
Yunho pursed his lips, his brows curious under his messy hair. âThe truth?â
âYeah,â you smiled, âYou do love me.â
âI have since I met you,â he confessed, dragging the backs of his fingers along the edge of your jaw.
âI think I have, too,â you whispered. âI was justâŚâ
Yunho shut his eyes for a second. âScared.â
âYeah, scared.â
He started to smile. âAre you still?â
âNot with you,â you whispered, âNever with you. Why do you think I had the balls to say it?â
Laughing, he shifted over you and your bodies parted. Admiring how your lips popped open at the feel, he smiled and pressed a kiss to your bottom lip. âI love you,â he said quietly, like someone would hear him, someone like you.
Cheeks going pink, you smiled. âI love you too.â
âCome shower with me,â he whispered against your dewy skin.
âYou might have to carry me, youâre a wild animal.â
His smile pierced through your heart and stirred your belly, swimming in the leftover pleasure heâd brought you to mere minutes ago. âAnything for you, Shug.â
Crawling off of you, he helped you up and wrapped an arm around your back. Pulling open his door a crack, he peered out into the shared space and listened.
Swatting at his chest, you giggled, âYou really think he came home?â
Shrugging, he shot you a sarcastic look, âWouldnât be able to hear him if he did, youâre really loud.â
âYunho,â you gasped, bumping him with your hip.
âLookâs like your strength is back,â he teased, âGuess you can walk to the bathroom alone.â His grin grew as he slid his arm off of you, laughing as you grabbed onto him and clung to his side.
âDonât be a jerk.â
Smoothing a hand over your hair, he hushed you and shook his head, âIâm sorry, Iâm kidding, Iâd never. Câmon.â
Taking you out toward the kitchen, the bathroom on Sanâs side of the apartment, you tiptoed over the hardwood, and you both paused.
Your hoodie and his shirt, they were folded neatly and placed on the counter beside the bottle of vodka that had been capped, the shot glasses arranged nicely next to it.Â
âUh, we didnât do that, did we?â he asked, sharing a just as confused look with you.
Thinning your lips, you felt your cheeks flush of all color as you looked up at him. âNope.â
âAh, shit,â he grumbled, âWhereâs my phone?â
Glancing around, letting yourself slip away from him, you searched for yours as well. Finding it on the other counter, again placed nicely, surprised he didnât also plug it into a charger for you, you swiped it open and drafted a text to Seonghwa, one you sent with an apology for the late hour.
Yunho groaned from behind you, swiping his hand over his forehead, pushing his hair back. âWell,â he trailed off, stepping to your side, showing you his screen and his text from San.
UR BROTHER: jongho and i are going to danteâs, glad you idiots worked this shit out ITâS ABOUT DAMN TIME⌠meet us here when youâre done, i want details, jongho doesnât, please help me torture him⌠sounds like your doing a good job though!!!Â
Your shoulders rose to eat your ears.
Yunho bent his knees and leaned into you, popping a kiss to your cheek. âLoud.â
âStop!â Whining, you shoved him, and he staggered back with a laugh.Â
âItâs hot,â he shrugged, reaching for you to pull you into the bathroom, âI like it that way. We gonna go get a drink?â
Leaning against the doorframe, watching him turn the hot water on, you admired his bare body and smirked. âIf weâre sure that Sanâll go home with Jongho.â
Whipping himself around, he took one stride toward you and looped his arms around your neck, pulling you into him. âHe always goes home with Jongho, and youâre coming back here with me.â
Biting down on your bottom lip, you smized. âYou serious?â
He curled his lip and dropped his chin down to kiss you rough, whispering, âDeadly. Now get in here and let me see if I can make you cum in five minutes.â
âYunho,â you laughed, having blushed more in your time with him this evening than ever in your life. He whisked you beneath the hot water and pushed you up against the wall, kissing you.Â
Pulling his lips away, he pressed his forehead to yours and took a deep breath. âI donât wanna go to the gala.â A smile pulled at the corners of your lips, growing until you almost doubled over in laughter. âWhaaat,â he whined, laughing with you, the sound contagious.Â
Gripping his cheeks you shook him a bit. âDonât worry about that, weâre not going. I just told Seonghwa.â
âOh,â he sighed, relieved, âOkay, good, thatâs okay?â
âMore than okay,â you rolled your eyes, âI didnât wanna go either.â
Pulling his lips to the side, he said, âI got your dress fixed.â Taking your wide eyes for an answer, he added, âI went back to the store to get it, San knows someone really good at this kind of stuff.â
âWho is she?â
âHe. A drag queen in Greenwich.â
Huffing through a laugh, you shook your head. âYou know sometimes they prefer it if you call them she.â
Yunho furrowed his brows. âHis name was Brian.â
Tilting your head, you squinted. âHuh⌠Why are they all named Brian?â
âDonât knowâŚâ His voice trailed off, leaving you both in thought until he dropped down to his knees and spread your thighs apart with his chin. Laughing at how you shrieked, he wiggled his way between them and kissed the inside of your hips.
Your fingers tangled with his hair. Laying your head on the wall, you laughed breathlessly, âFive minutes.â
He smirked and poked out his tongue. âStarting now.â
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masterlist | talk to me | ao3
I'm sobbing- IT WAS ABOUT TIME THEY CHOSE EACH OTHER! âđžđĽšđ
Oh my gosh! For a second there y/n was such a bird- hate that for me đđ My eye twitches every time I think about the concept of them wanting to be chosen to be in the backseat of some car when she's clearly a lover girl đ¤¨
Kim freakin' Hongjoong and Jung mofo Wooyoung, dzoo we need to squabble up!?! đŤľđžđ Y/N should've threatened her way to a promotion two seasons ago âđž
đĽšđ Oh my gosh SHE'S BEING ROMANCED!!! The music sharing should've definitely been her indicator. Can't help but fall in love with Yuyu in these moments
âđžđĽš In love with the way you write!!!! So beautiful












