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Could I ask for werewolf Beomgyu with a vampire girlfriend, fluff, smut or angst whatever you want but maybe he gets upset when he smells another werewolf on reader
ęąĘÉ´á´á´ęąÉŞęą: as an age old vampire, you smell blood, not scents like your wolf of a boyfriend, so how was you supposed to know youâd come home smelling of another wolf and the consequences of such?âŚ
á´Ąá´Ęɴɪɴɢęą: established relationship, NSFW, minors do not interact, angst, comfort, a whole lot of werewolf tropes, biting, blood drinking, marking, smut, no prep, unprotected sex, clothed sex, rough sex, manhandling, mean dom!gyu (heâs rough with reader but sheâs a vamp so itâs all comparative strength), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial?, multiple creampie, overstimulation, breeding kink, size kink, slight aftercare
đđđŠđŠđŽ đ¨đđŽđ¨âŚâËŕż YES anon werewolf gyu im a huge believer of this like yes our bear is also so dog coded!! tried to put a little bit of angst, smut and comfort i this so i hope its good!! á°áŠ
the melancholy concept was quite literally perfect for this too heâs never been so wolf coded than he was that day ugh ૮â ´ ęł `âá
You ask yourself constantly what exactly brought you to this very moment. What twist of fate occurred in the sands of times hourglass to make you fall into the lap of this frantic werewolf?
But somehow Beomgyu has wriggled himself into the deepest depths of your cold heart.
It's not like you. You've been a solitary creature for as long as you can remember. You've seen decades come and go like leaves blowing in the wind, each one passing you by all alone but now you're apart of a pack; a family-as he calls it. At first you couldn't fathom how he'd allowed you in so easily, it's not entirely typical behaviour for a wolf pack to allow a being such as yourself in at all, let alone without protest.
Your kind and his don't exactly... mingle amicably. In fact it would be fair to surmise that you two should hate the guts of each other, he'd have been raised to despise filthy leeches such as yourself and you've been around long enough to be wary of mutts. And yet somehow the two of you are drawn to each other, like magnets with opposing poles that attract. Polarising forces that just can't be ripped apart.
It's ultimately the reason you spend most of your time now in Beomgyu's bed with him curled up beside you. Any time you aren't at your job (blood sucking unfortunately won't pay all your bills), you're wrapped up in his sheets, most times with him buried so deep inside your cunt it feels as though he's splitting you in half. While you're both slender and built for agility, the wolf in him makes him run a little...larger. He's not even the tallest of his pack and he's still over a full head height above you.
So naturally, he's bigger in every sense of the word. He engulfs your frame entirely and when he's pounding into you and tears are streaming down your face from the sheer size of him, he's whispering filth into your ear because he enjoys the control he has over you...
...
"C'mon, baby, I know you can take me" mockingly cooing as you cry out, licking away your salt tears while you grip the sheets with white knuckles.
...
"S-so fucking tiny!" His hands encompass over every inch of your hips, gritting through his teeth, whining but you know he's elated from how you writhe trying to accommodate his size "Pussy's gripping me so tight, can barely move!"
...
"See that? How you're stretching just to make me fit? Y'want it just as bad as I do, baby"
...
Other times you spend, still wrapped up tightly with him on the mattress as you watch over him sleeping, his heavy breathing turns to soft chest falls in his slumber and you're enamoured by it. The way his diaphragm expands to accommodate the air he's inhaling and passing it back out lets you know he's alive beside you, a heart pumping so loudly you hear his blood rushing through his veins, drumming in your ears. It brings you solace you never thought you'd get from something living, but it might just be your favourite sound you've encountered in your many years of solitude; the rhythmic thump thump of your lovers heart as he lays beside you.
You don't need to sleep the way he does, so you spend the time replicating his serenity, observing it on the features of his face; how his long lashes flutter against his cheeks in dreaming, the way his rose tinted, plush lips puff out occasionally and how you long to kiss them but you shouldn't. You should let him rest. Instead you ghost your fingertips across his jaw and down his neck, collecting his warmth not because you need it but because it's his and you've come to cherish everything that comes along with loving him.
Either way it's where he likes you best, his sheets imprint his scent all over you and he does so too, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and everywhere he can reach. He simply won't allow you to leave without his smell latched onto you, a piece of him wherever you go as a claim. He's not your protector, you do a perfectly fine job of that by yourself, but it's innately in him to assume the role anyway. It's the wolf in him to protect what's his.
At first it was bewildering to you, while your own senses are heightened beyond that of a human it's driven mostly by blood, you can sense it below the skin while it's still flowing through your prey down to its type; O is a classically strong scent but you have a sweet tooth, by far your favourite is A, exactly the type flooding Beomgyu's veins.
But for a person themselves to have a smell? Well that's an entirely new concept for you. There's even unique pack smells that they've imprinted onto you, as if it wasn't obvious enough which you belonged to with Beomgyu's scent clinging to you like a second skin.
Now you might even say you're captivated by it, enamoured with how infatuated he is with you and scenting you. Whether he's nudging his face or body into you or locking you closely to his side if you go out together, lacing his fingers between yours at all times, you're besotted with him and each of his little inclinations. Your little wolf; whose impulses lead him to linger around you, a raw, animalistic urge to always have physical proximity with his mate. There isn't a moment that passes where he isn't touching you in some capacity, it's never enough because he always craves more and more of you.
You never anticipated just how addictive he'd make the affection he gives to you, never thought that you; who spent all of you life previously without the touch of a lover would be fawning into the arms of anyone, let alone a wolf. You just can't help it, he loves you so fiercely that you wonder why it's taken you so long to find him, perhaps your heart was waiting for him unknowingly, willing him into existence.
He feels the same for you, possibly more so because of the way wolves bond with their mates so whenever you weren't around he quickly found himself overwrought and distressed. Kai had told you once that he'd hear howling and whimpering from Beomgyu's room into the early hours, agitated and inconsolable simply because you were too far.
You understood the sorrow, you found him in places unexpected when you were away working or hunting. It's reckless to suck the blood of people in your city where it's easier to pin to you so you travel, but the moon always sits full in the sky and you know he's out there with his pack, running through the dense forests in wolf form and it gives you at least a little comfort. It helps ground him, with paws in the dirt it gives him an outlet for his anguish.
It was always a little more difficult for you on full moons because of this, while he found proclivity in his fur and claws, you braced the long night alone like you once always were. It was much emptier after knowing his love though, so you'd cuddle up to the wolf plush you'd purchased simply because it reminds you of him, awaiting his return.
It's when he changed back into human form all of his heartbreak would return and he'd be pining for you once more. That was when he'd asked for you to join the pack and live with them in their apartment so that he'd never have to be apart from you for so long. You may be a vampire but they saw how enamoured Beomgyu is with you; at the end of it all, a mate is everything to a wolf so they had little complaint, welcomed you in cordially.
You've never once felt cold, despite your skin being frost bitten to the touch; your blood doesn't pump throughout your body anymore so there's no fire to light inside you, but he makes you yearn for his warmth. He runs hotter than anyone you've known before, probably because he's wolf and you've only ever interacted with humans, but it's as though he's always at boiling point, there's a tiny singe of burn whenever you first touch because of it but you welcome it, let his heat envelop you.
He leans into your chill too. There's occasions when he needs it. Seasonal rut is a tumultuous time for a wolf, they tend to lock themselves away in their room they've made a den and spend the next few days waning out the instinctual desire to breed. Beomgyu is no different.
He barely leaves his sheets because he's feverishly hot to the touch, sweat dripping from every inch of his body and a whole lot of panting. It concerned you at first, to see him so sickly he looks seconds away from deaths door but he reassures you that it's normal, no matter how dire it looks, that it's something every wolf goes through twice a year.
His chest heaves violently, low growls emanate from deep within his diaphragm whenever you shift even an inch away from him. It's agony for you to part from him when he's in rut, whimpering wildly when you inevitably have to get up for water or whatever necessities he needs. All he wants is your bare skin against his, trapped underneath him where he can have you as many times as he possibly can. He detests you leaving his den, he trusts his pack with his life but with his mate is another matter. He'd rip their heads off for even looking at you because if there's one thing you've learned from being with a wolf; never underestimate just how possessive they get with their mates.
He knows the only thing that's on their minds right now because it's the only thing in his: to breed. He knows they can smell how ripe and delicious you are, how dizzyingly fertile the scent you're giving off is because it's driving him fucking insane.
You man not be wolf but your pheromones are still just as potent because he's bonded to you, the intensity of everything wracks up tenfold. The only thing that can ease his suffering is you. Not just because he needs to be inside you constantly, thrusting into your cunt and spilling hot cum into your womb over and over because it's the only thing that can satiate him. But because your cold skin helps to take the edge off the scorching temperature of his body.
It's the only remedy when he's eventually worn himself out after hours of breeding you, sticky from the perspiration sizzling against your skin since you don't sweat and he's lapping the cold up like a man dying of thirst. With his long, shaggy locks soaked and clasping to his neck, you brush through them with iced fingertips against his scalp and feel the deep vibrations of rumbles in his throat, a wolf's version of purring.
By the end of his rut you smell so intensely of him, inside and out that the other boys are wary of you for weeks, Yeonjun and Taehyun keep their distance to curb the overprotective claim Beomgyu has over you and Soobin and Kai avoid you altogether. It's best that way, Beomgyu tends to be snappy if anyone is within a ten meter radius of you while he acclimates back into his regular schedule.
It's not all take with Beomgyu though, in-fact he probably gives more to you than you could ever repay; he allows you to feed from him. You don't have the requirement for food every day like he does, once a month is perfectly healthy to sustain you, but when you are hungry it's ravenous.
One month you overlapped a little too far with feeding and he witnessed how hunger pulls you apart, sunken eyes and twitching violently until he couldn't take it any more, begging to let you relieve yourself and drink from him. At first you declined, you never wanted to blur the lines between lover and food but he eventually managed to convince you; 'you allow me to fulfil my needs in rut, what's the point if I can't help you too' he pleaded so sweetly and you felt too weak and drained to argue, and from the first sip of his blood you were addicted.
He places you in his lap and tilts his head for you, observing how his veins thud against the column of his neck is salivating, latching your fangs down into his skin as delicately as you can. He hisses at first contact but settles down rather quickly once you start gulping down the warm, crimson liquid that coats your throat so delectably. The more you swallow, the slower his heart rate becomes and although you never drink anywhere close to deathly levels its mellows him just so, he turns from a hyperactive wolf to a placid lap dog in your arms.
He produces slightly more blood than humans so it's always a full meal by the time you're finished, he always falls asleep with his head tucked into your shoulder as you cradle him, allowing him the time he needs to recover and recount his blood levels. It's so peaceful like this, his soft breathing tickles your neck the same way his shaggy hair does while you pet him affectionately in his slumber.
As soon as he arises he's your playful, loving Beomgyu once more, kissing along your neck in replication of where you drank from him. To him, he sees it as your own, vampiric way of staking your claim on him, guzzling his blood down not just purely because you're required to but because it creates a tether between the two of you, binding your souls together and that's a feeling he understands all too well. It's written into his genetic code, ingrained in his bones to bond so deeply with you, to fiercely devote to you for the remainder of his life so he'd have you drink from him every day if his blood levels allowed.
Anything to have you needing him the same way he does for you, fore you are his and he is yours.
So you should have known better.
You should have known giving a passing hug to a colleague as you left the bar would only spell disaster.
It's not as though you invited it, you're not one for physical affection usually, especially if it's not Beomgyu but when one of the new bartenders pulls you tightly in his arms to see you off from your shift, you don't feel the need to shove him away and create a scene. It doesn't miss you how irregular the behaviour is though; you barely know this man and it's hardly common occurrence for your other colleagues to send each other off in such a way, but he's no threat to you, whatever ulterior motive he may have. The slimey grin he sports when he pulls back twinges you repulsed, you've know a thousand men like him in your years.
One's who are only after the singular thing you harbor between your legs but he'll have to look elsewhere for that. He'd be entirely moronic to pick a fight with you and expect to win.
So truly, how could you have possibly known the little secret he harbours without the nose to smell it like Yeonjun can? As you step through the front door to the pack house you feel a gloom in the atmosphere, a heavy cloud and as you set your bag down you hear a low grumbling sound from behind the kitchen counter, almost a hiss and just as you're about to investigate Yeonjun is stood before you, face rigid and not with the usual placidity you're use to seeing from him.
"Why do you smell like that?" His brows are knitted, scowling, crossing his arms over his chest and you feel dejected for a moment. You pinch your shirt and bring it to your nose for a hint of whatever it is he seems to smell. You don't perspire, had you forgot to put fragrance on before you left?
"Like what?" You ask dumbfoundly when you can't detect anything.
"Like filthy wolf..." in any another circumstance you're sure you'd scoff and chuckle from his irony, but he's grimacing like this is no laughing matter and you foolishly realise all too well what he's implying too late.
That hug. Your new colleague; he must be wolf.
Perhaps that's why he clung to you in the embrace, could smell Beomgyu on you and wished to supplant his scent with his own, wanting to claim you instead. Either way it hardly matters now; you have a riled up wolf staring you down as though he wants to bite.
"Fuck... where's Beomgyu?" There's dread in your voice, if he was here to catch a whiff of you he'd go ballistic, you shudder to know what he'd do with the scent of another wolf clung to you and unfortunately your question is soon answered.
"Right here..."
A deep, guttural growl you barely recognise, vibrating the very walls surrounding you as they begin to feel as though they're caving in. You peer over Yeonjun's shoulder and the sight makes you want to shrink back. He's watching you, glowering down at you through thick lashes and furred brows, no longer gleaming auburn but jet black, pure obsidian.
Beomgyu looks as though he wants to tear you apart.
"Get here. Now" teeth snarling, the saliva he's copiously producing frothing in his mouth; the undistllled fury poisoning his veins that you can smell in his blood. He's not shouting, nor screaming but he's imploring you with potency far more commanding so you cautiously step closer. You don't wish to poke the beast any more than you already have. The closer you get the louder the rumbling reverberates, the source so far in his chest he's producing it in his diaphragm, vibrations you hadn't even known possible for him to produce.
And when you're an inch away you barely catch when his hand snaps around your wrist, crushing so intensely you're sure it would break if you were human. He speaks not a word to you as he drags you back to your den, slamming the door closed with you against it so roughly you feel the grooves of the wood dig into your back.
"Beomgyu, I can expl-"
"-Shut the fuck up" he gnarls, pinning your hands above you head, nailing them to the door with a strength you don't know if you'd be able to overpower and it terrifies you. Not because you truly believe Beomgyu means to harm you but because he's enraged beyond anything you've ever seen, you hear how furiously his hearts thudding against his ribcage, his veins protruding against his temple and down his neck, sounding as though he's seconds away from cardiac arrest.
He plunges his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling so intensely all the while still growling like a feral dog. You suppose he is right now. When he whips his head up there's a tick of change in his eyes, ever so slightly you can barely tell it's there but they catch the reflecting lamplight slightly more.
You can only hope he smells that it's only skin deep, that it was only a fleeting encounter with this other mutt and not whatever scenario his mind is conjuring up right now. He must do because he tilts his head in asking "why the fuck do you smell like this?"
It's less guttural but his teeth are still clenched, demanding you answer.
"Gyu, I swear I had no idea! It's this new bartender, he hugged me after my shift ended and I knew it was weird but I never knew he was wolf..." his eyes study you, searching for any indication of falsehood but you stare right back at him, pleading for him to heed you.
He knows you, he knows your ticks and when you're lying and this isn't it. The scent is surface level, glaringly revolting but shallow nonetheless. Deep down he knows you'd never betray him, you've bonded far too endlessly for that but the smell of another wolf sets alight to instincts beyond his control; you know this.
"You're mine" he implores huskily, all grit and gravel as he bites centimetres from your face.
"I'm yours, gyu..." you softly remind as his lips attach to your neck, teeth scratching your skin and he thinks he understands the desire you have to latch down and gulp, right now he wants nothing more than to consume you wholly, drink you up as you do to him because he knows the feeling of drifting in the space of lucidity of the one you belong to.
It's absolute intoxication and that's what he needs of you now.
"Not leaving this room until you smell only of me..." words barely audible because he's murmuring deep into your skin, dragging open mouth kisses against your collarbone while his body rolls against yours with fiery vehement.
He releases your hands purely so he can gather you in his arms, throw you to the bed and pounce on top of you, leaning himself between your thighs. When you wrap your legs around his hips it leaves him just enough space to tug his trousers and boxers down, apathetic towards your skirt and panties because he's far too desperate, roughly tugging them aside to ram his cock inside your cunt.
"nghhhh...fuck.... gyu!" You squeal from the intrusion; he's huge and with no foreplay you find the sting ravage you. He's giving you no time to adjust either, just merciless pummelling repeatedly, shoving you further down into the mattress.
"Hush...you can take it" his hand snaps to cup your jaw, angling you for his lips once more to place a thousand more wet kisses wherever he can reach, nose nudging just below your ear. It's all teeth and tongue and you could swear it's drawing blood, canines scratching and biting to lap back up with the wet muscle. He's never been quite so vigorous when marking you, it must look worse than when you're done feeding from him, two pin pricks whereas this is an onslaught. But it's as he says, you can take it.
Your hands claw under his shirt, finding perchance digging into every inch of his back and shoulders you can reach and he allows so purely because it's skin contact, an entanglement of limbs and bodies where his fingertips pierce into their hold on your jaw and thighs. With bruising speed he's gracing you with no time to recover after each ruthless thrust, you're whimpering unbridled while he's all guttural grunts and he's not talking you through any of it as he usually does, that sweet voice that praises you simply doesn't exist in this moment and sickly it makes you gush to see him so domineering.
There's no warning when he pushes himself into your depths to finish, hips slamming so savagely you wouldn't be surprised if it bruised, he's entirely engrossed in pumping his cum straight into your womb that he couldn't care for much else; how your nails rake scarlet lines across his back, scarlet drops seeping through.
You shudder beneath him, there's finally pause in his movements. For just a brief moment you think he's satiated himself until he's reeling back and thrusting inside you once more, pace swifter but shallower because he's fighting with the overstimulation.
"...ba-baby - please..."
He ignores your plea. If it's truly too much for you he'll know about it, but you're permitting this. You'd showcase even an inch of your raw vampiric strength, thrash him off but instead you're clinging to him, he knows this is exactly where you want to be.
Good. Because he doesn't stop until he's pumping another load of cum into you, his tip stuffing it up against your cervix, as deep as he can get. His grunting steadily increases, puffing it straight into your neck as his hands clutch your waist to hold himself steady.
This must be it, he's exhausted himself because although he has increased stamina to that of a human, he's given himself no breaks in between his orgasms and no chance for you to even reach yours with the inconsistent pace. So truly, you think he'll finally relent.
But he's sitting up on his knees, pulling your thighs with him to impale you back onto his full length where he'd slipped out slightly. You grasp his forearms to combat the recoil of yet more relentless lunges, throwing your head back against the pillows with mewls in your throat. His palm flattens against your lower belly, pushing down to feel the ridge of his cock spear you each time.
"Not stopping 'till you're full with my pup..."
His growling returns, lifting your gaze to him once more but he's far too inside his own head to even notice you feening for him, intensely focused on nothing but driving hips. His face drips with perspiration that sticks his dark locks to him, his upper lip twitching as he grits teeth and nose scrunching. His third release approaches briskly, spewing a final time and locking up inside you as he collapses heavily on top of you. He's feverishly hot, from the warmth flooding inside you to his skin against yours and its stifling up the air inside the room, a thick plume of oppressive heat hung low.
And yet he's shivering, throbbing inside you while his agitated grumbling turns to pained whimpers like an injured animal. Everything's raw but that's not why he's sobbing. Every stimulus is overwhelming his senses, and you; you're so delicately passive he could mistake you for dead. Well, more so than you already are.
Your lungs need no oxygen so you aren't heaving chest like he is, your skin has no sheen of sweat that tells of your exertion but there's tears streaming past your temples, profusions of punctures and vermillion scars marring your neck where he's debauched you. His gut sinks like an anchor, the barbaric weight of his recklessness dragging him down.
"-Fuck...love, are you okay? Was I too rough?" He's tapping your cheek gently to prompt your eyes to open, they're not fluttering because they're far too hefty but lulling, woozily glancing up to him. Each of his features are crestfallen, creased brows and sullen eyes from the guilt. His thumbs swipe your tears away tenderly to neutralise his fierce treatment and you lazily hum "s'okay, gyu... just need a moment"
The lips that ravaged you only moments ago kiss away the discomfort, pressing sweetness to inflamed skin and nuzzling affectionately in apology, mumbling obediently "sorry, baby...m'so sorry"
Your fingers thread through his hair when you regain the strength he borrowed, guiding his head up to you "I'm okay, baby, promise..." a meek smile on your lips washes away only an inch of his worry until it tilts into a smirk "...just hope I smell like you again 'cause I won't last another round of you like this"
He dips his head as a puff of weary laughter pushes itself from his chest, coyly looking back to your eyes "didn't mean to be so rough... just drove me fucking insane to smell another wolf on you. I know it's not your fault, it's just...instinct"
But you've never once condemned his urges, in fact you've embraced them beyond all your previous knowledge of wolves because that's who Beomgyu is. It's who he's designed to be and somewhere along the way you believe this is fates will. It must be; your heart has been locked inside a steel box in the depths of the frigid ocean, all until his warm hand reached down to grasp.
Even now, as you're both still wrapped up in each others cradle, clothes still half on and with him still buried deep inside you, you know he's the only one you'll allow the key.
"Then you're lucky I can handle you, my little wolf" fondly stroking his matted hair earns you a sincere simper, he rests his head on your chest and curls into you like the loyal hound he is, finally settling his spend body.
ęąĘÉ´á´á´ęąÉŞęą: Persecuted and hunted, there's little in the world to live for anymore but revenge. You know it's impossible for you alone and so your last resort is the very thing they almost killed you for, and the being you conjure may be the thing they feared all along and your saviour
á´Ąá´Ęɴɪɴɢęą: NSFW, minors do not interact, dark content, angst, witchcraft, incorrect depictions of witchcraft, religious themes, depression, nudity, non-sexual nudity, blood, consuming blood, death, dead animals(kind of itâs blood and bones), attacks, murder, Kai is a demon but heâs more like a reaper tbh, slight misogyny, Kai calls reader âangelâ and âmy loveâ, slight body worship, no protection, creampie, aftercare, Kai is just really sweet tbh
đđđŠđŠđŽ đ¨đđŽđ¨âŚâËŕż Iâm an angel Kai truther but I thought it might be fun to try to write him as a demon and it was so yay á˘đŠ
Maybe I went too dark idk but I love dark fantasy too much to hold back so this wonât be for everyone but thatâs okay, Iâll be writing some fluff/idol things again now! Iâm a little witch a heart but i apologise if anything depicted wrong itâs just fictionâ§Ëę°đžŕ Ë. áľáľ Apologies if this is too repetitive some is intentional, some⌠not so much >á´< Thereâs only so many ways I can describe blood and souls aha. Might have missed some warnings or mistakes since I only skimmed it over, so if I did just lmk and Iâll add â˘âŠâ˘
Moonlight bathes the canyon an iced blue, its refracted in the water just below the steady rock line, a mirror for who but woodland creatures small and large. There's no breeze, no gentle sway in the leaves overhanging centuries old trees rooted firmly to the soil. It might just be calmer that way, no hum carried by the wind but a blanketed silence in the air, the only audible sounds slicing that quiet are the chirps of crickets, not sharp enough to pierce but to lull the atmosphere.
Bare feet tread the smooth planes of the rock surface, following the expanse to the waters edge. The grooves of the wicker basket cut into where it sits on your arm, imprinting its woven pattern onto pliant skin. There's no use in readjusting, not when you pause to scan the area and find it ideal for your task at hand. Reaching into the basket, a singular red string wrapped in a circular spindle is placed around your palm, thread through your fingers into a similar circular formation on the ground below your feet. The circle is large enough to comfortably sit inside with room to spare, the thread now looping to create a five pointed star, each point a representative for the elements and placeholder for five thick candles, lit by three matches now arranged in a meticulous line on a platformed rock just ahead of the circle.
A jar of moon charged water is placed at the base of the string infront of you, a conduit for the conjured, and a jar of cows blood, fresh to outset coagulation.
Standing from your place in the centre of the star, the sheer maroon fabric of your slip gown glides off your shoulder, bunching briefly at your elbows to allow a deep pause of breath. In an instant it pools at your feet, leaving your body bare to land around you. Despite the lack of breeze, your skin blooms anew with chilled bumps, a product of the anticipation. Wanting to be as close to the ground as possible, you kneel once more, posture resting and calm. You raises the jar above, tilting just enough to let the viscous blood cascade over the crown of your head, veiling your hair a rich crimson.
It's poured down your front side, it steadily drips and cloaks the expanse of your exposed skin, barely collecting around knees since it's sticks firmly to you.
Once the jar is empty and every drop is poured, you glide your hands along your body to lather the blood as far as it will go, smearing breasts, stomach and thighs, pivotal points of energy. Sapphire blue illuminations of the full moon above paints hues of amethyst along the drops of ruby blood. There's a pause in your actions, momentarily emptying every thought circulating and unfiltered rage briefly stilling. It's all intentional. Voice hoarse from days of silence breaks the peace in the canyon with words in tongues, reciting the incantation learned for this moment. You're unsure if the tremors you feel around you are from the vibrations of your raised voice or the energy conjured from the syllables chanted. Either way, you have to focus yourself on the words, eyes screwed shut in concentration. Your breath is inching closer towards suffocation at the speed of the chorus until it just... stops. The incantation comes to a full hault at the end, an invitation welcomed by the submissive kneel, your head to the ground and hands placed beside.
Heart hammering to capture your breath back, chest heaving gently with each inhale, but your eyes never falter, remaining locked and sheltered by your cradled head. For multiple beats, there's nothing but silence, more so than before, as if the world around had entered a vortex.
"Is this... for me?"
A saccharine voice asks, not with uncertainty; more... inquisitively. It's delicate but stable, a rich honeyed tone unheard of to you, there's almost a whisper behind it. Raising your head just slightly enough to see long, slender fingers wrap around the small animal bone placed at the alters centre, watching as the figure strokes at the twine tying the wildflower stem to it.
Your gaze elevates to intake your company; it's a man of towering stature, that you can tell even from a kneeling position, a full head height above you. Golden locks curl, so fair the moon refracts them cerulean and framing the intricate features of his face, the wisps of spun gold kissing his cheeks and brows. His eyes hold a moody ambiguity, heavy lids hiding pools of onyx with little light filtering through except the glow of moonlight. If eyes are the seat of the soul it's impossible to tell which table he's sat. A nose that slopes with the same beauty as the mountains of old seated along the horizon, witness to years beyond you, much the same as he. His lips curve and darken at the corners, blooming into a soft plum shade on his plump bottom lip. His jaw is a sharp edge yet defined with youthfulness, emphasised by the pristine ivory of his clothing.
Sheers, lace and satin all adorn his frame in varying styles, his sleeves are sleek and flow past his palms while a loose corset hugs the un-conforming silk, all the same snowy colour. If you didn't know better you must have summoned the wrong being. Knowing not to expect a threatening, red horned entity like all the old tales told did little to prepare for something that could only been described as heavenly.
"Yes. An offering. I need your power" after a long pause, your throat clears enough to state your intentions to the being in front of you, who whips his head in intrigue at the request.
"Tell" a simple command devoid of the same inquisitive expression the gaze in his eyes have, impossible to read him.
You sit up fully, in any other situation you're sure you should feel shame or dejection from being fully nude, covered in blood, yet under his intense watch you can only persevere in thought. "There's a clan, they camp just outside of this forest. They pillage and raid and murder to only their own benefit. No one dares approach, let alone defy them since they are patrons of the citadel. I want them all dead."
There's a prolonged pause as he blinks lazily, approaching your kneeling frame in one full stride yet with a slowness that prevents you from being startled. Those slender fingers that seemed to accept your offering reach out almost cautiously. Again, that gnawing feeling that should set your nervous system alight creeps in, yet you do nothing, allowing those fingers closer.
"They did this?" Fingertips barely graze your lower abdomen where a large gash lays, still scarred red where the flesh was healing above the trauma. That said, there's no way he should have seen it through the thick, sticky layer of blood still clinging to your skin. Your eyes shoot up to meet his, widening as if it was finally settling in that the being in front of you was not from this earth.
"I was summoned to guide your soul when you were bleeding out, but your soul wanted to cling onto life. I allowed it" the admission gives way to a memory repressed, or what you had thought was a conjugation of your brain while your body bled out.
You remember that night. Your month of solitude in pain and grief unwilling to let you forget.
ââ .âŚ
As the bitter chill of winter wilts away and gives way to the birth of the warming months, so too do the floral and fauna, growing anew with blooms of colour sprinkling the forest floor. It means fresh vegetation for harvest, some the fruits of your own labour two seasons past you had planted and some gifts from nature herself. You had left in the early hours that morning, told your sister that your whole day would be occupied foraging. The glow on her face at the anticipation of new spices and ingredients to flavor her favorite dishes will be forever branded to your memories, bittersweet in taste.
The same wicker basket carrying the ritual blood had once been filled with herbage and provisions, lighter in weight and soul. By the time you returned to the modest little cottage your sister had lovingly cited was the hearth of her heart, the setting sun bathed the forest amber.
But something felt wrong.
The windows should have glowed the same saffron as the sunset from the candlelight within, and yet it sat still, somber in shadow. Perhaps she had fallen asleep in the preparation for your return, it would not be the first time. So you trudge forward, the doorknob rattles as you step inside.
"I'm home!" You call out with somewhat caution, setting the basket onto the kitchenette. You cannot see the main cooking table and dining area from where you stand so your other sense take the wheel. There's little sound to observe, no clambering of pots and pans, cabinetry opening in rushed fashion to evade the oncoming scolding from you for forgetting the tasks laid out for her. Nothing but silence.
Pausing in emptying the basket, you peer around the half wall and again, nothing. Your footsteps are small, pattering the slab flooring with chimes, eyes scanning your home. So you step past your dining table and your blood stills, curdling in your stomach in suspended sickness.
At your feet, your sister lays, in a pool of crimson.
Shes lifeless in a way you have not been witness to. You use to watch her sleep, lulled by your mother's sweet voice with the covers tucked under her chin to chase the nightmares away, and later by your own voice when your mother had passed. Her tiny head cradled under your hand stroking her hair, so easy to forget those fair strands had been wild and whipped by the wind as she ran untamed through the woods she had grown in. Now laid upon her pillow she returned to the place you had always told her she came from and truly belonged, the land of dreams where nothing apart from her own imagination could contain her.
It nauseated you that she looked so similar to that small child she once had been, the one who ferociously defied restraint with giggles in her throat, now lying on the floor there. Her chest no longer rose in soft breaths, as much as you willed it to.
All you could do was stare, you weren't given that grace for long when a hurried grunt suffocated the room, a flurry of motion to your side as you are swamped by a looming figure. A thick, calloused hand a vice around your neck, choking on the constriction like being pulled under thrashing waves yet unable to break for breath. Voices unrecognisable bubble to the surface, distantly hearing the taunts as they spit their venom. When that hand finally relents to your shock, your body is violently shoved and you tumble to the floor, cold under palm as you sputter up and chase that breath you so desperately need.
"Rot in hell, fucking witch!"Â You hear their words now and you don't know what hurts more, the blood you can now feel seeping through your fingers on the ground or the burning sensation in your abdomen. The hand unoccupied fawns to clutch where you feel the sting but your met with the cool blade of a dagger, the hilt of the blade adorned with varying gemstones now saturated ruby with your own blood. In your panic you pull and pull until the dagger hits the ground with a clammer, willing to shed it from you anyway you can, unthinking of the way your wound now cascades crimson. In the back of your mind you recognise the cackles, the way they goad you as you lay on the ground bleeding.
You bolt.
Without time to even feel the hole in your stomach or to feel that revolting taste of guilt for leaving your sister there. The baby you once helped nurtured lays alone while you flee, slogging through the piercing crunch of leaves under your feet, darting past trees and dodging branches, the adrenaline coursing through your veins the stimulus to keep your legs moving.
In a sick twist of fate you only begin to feel the puncture from the blade as the hollers of your persecutors track you, echoing just behind you. It's a hollow ache that causes your feet to stumble below you, catching yourself on a thick tree root.
'Keep going' you tell yourself. 'Don't stop' somehow your body listens, lurching yourself up enough to keep scurrying through the forest.
You succumb eventually, as you should with the deep gash you desperately clutch to stem the bleeding. The forest ground feels soft, an almost warm welcome for your failing body. You can still hear them perusing, albeit the distance is larger now thanks to your knowledge of woods. Yet not nearly enough to outrun. Your eyes dart for any cover and something seems to answer your plea as the outline of a hollowed tree enters your sight line. With no way to tell if it will be enough to conceal you, it's a last ditch effort to drag yourself, clothes tugging on loose branches as you hide yourself in the cavern. Curling up in the darkest corner you can, if they approach you know that that's it for you, if the trail of blood you left isn't enough your pained grunts will give you away. The late hour and approaching veil of night is your saving grace, hiding you like robes.
Their voices distantly travel the air now, lessening and you can't distinguish if it's from the distance between you or your consciousness waning. Your eyelids are heavy, it's truly a struggle to keep them open, battering them as if it's enough movement to keep your body alight. Between these blinks you swear you can see your attacker stood just behind the tree at the opening of your hiding spot. Wiling to give in, body spent beyond your limit, yet the figure just... remains. Stood, no haste or reason; waiting like a predator on the hunt. There's little in you to care anymore, your own laboured breaths the last thing you can focus on before you slip.
You never expected to wake, but when you do you it's light outside of what you thought would be your coffin. Daybreak had come, sparing you the agony of witnessing the first rising sun without her presence in the world. It was better this way, the day had started without you and had no need for you anymore. The suffering manifested at the wound instead, guessing the blood had only stilled enough to keep you alive thanks to the thick cloth of your clothing. It's not a fix though, the only chance for you is your cottage and you know this despite the risk. You cannot stay long.
The journey back was agony, it was shorter when you were running for your life. The only thing awaiting you is misery and you know this. Yet you continue on and clear every thought to ever enter your mind. Wash away all that you were and will be. No more than a phantom. A shell.
You made it back to the hearth of the heart empty with a dull ache in your stomach. There was spent 3 hours of excruciating torment, haphazardly cleansing the wound with any alcohol you could find and stitched yourself together with such little finesse a ragdoll looked sturdier. It was always your sister with the hand for embroidery, the dexterity you could only wish for. Most of your clothes and fabrics embedded with her work, no more than a perpetual scar now.
A week later you buried her body deep in the woods, along with a piece of your soul. Your body, still bruised and healing finally holding its own weight steadily enough to dig four feet down, gilded in her embroidery. You would never return to the hearth of the heart.
Why you had not thought of him that figure in the dark, even as he stands before you now, escapes you for reasons untold. That night, you were ready for what waited beyond the grave; he the reaper to take you there.
"You were there" is less of a question and more statement, but could be easily mistaken by the lilt in your voice. He hums in response, retracting his hand to rest his arm on his knee casually while glancing off the ridge of the rocks. Once again, there's a pause in his speech as you await an answer.
"Why beckon me? There are other demons more suited for your solicitation. The demons of wrath- or vengeance are more suited, no? I'm nothing more than a convoy" There's no judgement in his question, only curiosity.
You know this. Of course you know this.
"It has to be you. I need you to ensure that wherever my sisters soul has gone to, it will not cross paths with those I have summoned you to take" your eyes hold nothing short of determination, he tilts his head, seemingly pondering the request.
Your mother often told of tales about what lies in waiting when the spirit departs the body, a place of final resting she knew not of what it looked like in optics, but would fill the soul of completion. The time spent on the earthly plane a mere journey terminating in a place you could rest finally, unless of course your soul was not ready to depart so soon and the reaper who had guided you to such could assign your soul a new vessel. Ever a curious child, you questioned where this vessel would come from, if the reaper took souls from earth, how could it give life back? It never seemed to concern your mother much, she'd shrug her shoulders and tell you 'this is only for the reaper to know, I fear we will never be gifted with this knowledge, child' a giggle spewing as if it was only an answer to shut you up and not that she had actually given it much thought.
The children in the village also had their own tales of where the spirit goes, but theirs would only fill you with dread. In their stories, heaven was waiting for them to come home, a place in the clouds so high you couldn't see no matter how much you squinted through the suns rays, you couldn't catch a glimpse. There they would be welcomed by their creator and bestowed wings of ivory, the reward for the accomplishment of their time on earth as a holy being.
For you, nothing but anguish awaited, you would be dragged as the ground swallowed you whole, each layer of dirt, gravel, rock stripping you of flesh until you were nothing but bone and ash. Your suffering would not end there; it would be eternal as hells flames never snuff, cursed in that raging inferno, soul damned for eternity. They were cruel words for children to sneer but you learned to tolerate them, for you were no more than the occultists who resided in those haunted woods to them.
Even now, you know little of the demon you brought forth. But if your mother's words headed correct, if he could tread the line between life and death so freely, he is the one for your task.
A shaken head pulls your attention, a click of his tongue and he's stood with his arms crossed upon his chest like a child refused of candy.
"I'm a guide for souls, not an executioner. A ferry is not a sword. While my brethren are more suited for your appeal, I will choose to honour your choice in summoning me and your reasons. Though, there will be a price for this imbalance"
"I gathered as much. My soul is yours. Just... fulfil what I ask, please" in truth you know you will not live to see the new day, but your soul is worth those you seek to take, the knowledge that their time upon the earth is limited is enough, as your sisters was.
"I do not want your soul. That, in time, will be mine to escort as all are. Instead, I can never allow your soul a new vessel" there's still not a breeze in the air but you feel something close to that nip at your skin, your mothers words echoing in your mind. You close your eyes and bury yourself in that thought. There had been a time where you wondered what your next life would be. Would you see through the eyes of a hawk flittering past treetops and skimming the waters surface? Or perhaps the fish below as you made your home as sprawling as the oceans distant horizons. Maybe you'd be born human once more and hoped for as much love you received in this lifetime. Later, you wished to have been born alone from the start so you'd never know loss as you had. This offer was something like that, in a way.
Those slender fingertips tilt your chin up with gentleness, chilled as the windows are kissed by snowflakes in the dead of winter, a frost that threatens to creep into your bones but never close enough to hurting. It's a gentle invitation. "I need you to understand, yours and your sisters soul will never cross paths again"
There's something unreadable in his eyes that are mere meters from your own, holding your gaze with such intensity you feel the flutters deep in your gut, it almost looked something close to condolence.
For someone wiser, his words would make them think twice, perhaps refuse his proposal altogether, but your vengeance prevails.
"I accept your terms. What do you need?" If you spoke faster your tongue would have twisted yet slower would have meant too much time to mull your decision. He holds your stare.
"Blood. I need blood" in a split second his pupils are devoid of whatever emotion possessed him before and he's stood, collecting the jar of water for his summon. Lifting it to the light, it traps the moon in the glass, swirling the water around. Fascinated like a child with an ant farm, the night is a playground for the reaper.
"As much as I appreciate the gesture, water will not be a conduit strong enough for my next visit. Neither will the animals blood you wear. For human life I will need human blood, enough to consume. I will also need the names of those you want dead. Choose who from this clan you want dead wisely, the more names the more blood. Do you understand?" His head dips sideways to scan your reaction, to which you nod intently. It's more work than you anticipated for someone ready to leave this world within the hour, but now there's not a length you wouldn't go. When he pulls a dagger from his back, perhaps you weren't so wrong to assume you would die tonight.
Once again he's knelt before you, except this time one knee touches the ground, it's more submissive, bowing before you. His posture is not on the offence, it's clear he means no real harm from this, baring the blade for you to see, a truce. The metal is simple in design, saving awe for the ornate cross guard, spindly with a thorn embellishment and crows skull for a pommel. It's striking in composition, enough for you to neglect thought of how such came to his possession considering he was weaponless just moments ago, as if from thin air.
His palm opens before you, an invitation for your own, a test of trust, yet what could you stand to loose to a demon you've already sold your soul to. Taking your hand into his, he searches for your eyes a final time, your wordless consent is all he needs before the cool blade slices your skin open, sanguine scarlet peeks past the sting, sucking through your teeth. By the time he's mirrored the cut on his own palm, the droplets threaten to spill onto the earth below. Before he allows this, two palms become one, a matrimony of each others blood. He bleeds as though he was mortal. Unlike yours though, his runs as cold as his skin. He's nothing short of an enigma.
"This ties me to your humanly body without the need for the call of death to summon me to. Although, I'll only answer during nightfall. The sunlight is... uncomfortable, for me" there's a prolonged pause before his hand retreats to himself, standing with little haste.
It's painful to admit how comforting the touch of another being against you is. Even his iciness feels like a hug but you'll bite back that admission before ever hinting it aloud.
"I'll come back to you on the morrow. If you have a name for me, then so be it, our pact will be ignited" there's barely a look before his feet drag him forward and away from you, but not before stopping at the altar you had made.
"For this, I thank you. There is little kindness for me in the realm I take from" it's a confession you hardly expect, observing the way he grips the twine clad bone and clings to it. You know not how he came to appear before you, head bowed in respect then but when he crumbles to fine ash in the blink of an eye, dusting up into the atmosphere, you choose not to question such technicalities.
That burning sting that comes with a fresh laceration doesn't arrive when your palm idly falls to your thigh, upon inspection, there's no gash there at all now, the wound is healed as if it was never there in the first place. All your rationale had already left so there was little to ponder now, only grateful to not have to deal with the healing process of such a cut.
It's only now you notice the gummy sensation of the blood adhered to your skin, your mind before understandably occupied. There's no way you wish to put your gown back on and add to the weight and have another garment tacked to yourself. The lake was calling you. You wash off the residue, scrub where it's persistent and empty your jar of moon water, giving it back to lake once more. There's no real warmth under the glowing crescent but you wait patiently for the droplets on your skin to disappear before your gown is wrapping you once more. You don't bother to clear any more evidence of what happened here on this night, if anyone was to witness your sigil of blood they would only believe what they had thought of you all along. You've allowed it your whole life, and you'll allow it now. It matters not, as long as your wish is fulfilled.
You crawl into the hollowed tree you've made home now, only a few supplies scatter the floor hidden under broad leaves signify any sign of life. It's a little less than comfortable but it's all you need it to be, resting your head on the pile cloth you kept, eyes fluttering shut from something close to exhaustion. You need the rest, tomorrow you need a name.
ââ .âŚ
Pulling the hood of the cloak higher, the sprawling marketplace is busier than you remembered it to be. You'd been here only a handful of times with your mother when you small, you'd thought childlike wonder had been the reason for gawking at the grandiosity of the open town square then, yet seeing it again so many years later provides insight that the towns people truly live different than you had. There's stalls upon stalls of all kinds of merchandise, bellowing voices of traders offering prices to any takers. Fragrant smells punch your nostrils, vegetables and fruits you could only wish to grow in your forest biome, its temperate enough for most things but there are produce you've simply never seen before, no doubt from neighbouring kingdoms.
Just from lurking around, you'd heard whispers that the ministers monthly settlement for 'betterment of the church' had ceased, that he no longer had need for Lyon clan's patronage. You should be shocked to hear that the devout house of god had ever sought the aid of such an unholy crew, but here you are.
You stand by closely as two stallholders converse about the ordeal, their voices hushed while you occupy your hands by checking over their stock, creating the illusion your attention is elsewhere.
"It's terrible, minister Oswyn thinks his church is finally plentiful but all I see is a baron shell still, you can never have too much silver, aye?" One of the men jousts, elbowing the other in prompt of agreeance.
"Well that and the threat of Brothwell being the one who comes knocking on your door when his payments stop" that makes your fingers halt on rounded tomato you were observing. Brothwell was a name you remembered well, a threatening legend amongst the village children, games of tag that echoed of "hide, hide, hide from the Brothwell brothers" In the tales they were lofty and stocky in stature, not the men who had attacked you, but this might be more convenient. Strike at the tiger and the jungle rumbles in fear. At least in the clans final days they can feel a shred of what you have felt.
"Both brothers?" You whisp out softly, not loud enough to alert any more village people but with enough volume for the stallholders to hear. You don't look up at them, concealing as much as yourself as you can but the pause in their speak means they hadn't expected you overhearing.
"Nah, just Darth. One's terrifying enough" he chuffs, clearly tense and on guard for not being as stealthy as he had originally presumed.
"And the other?" You goad for the next name.
"Rauk has better things to do than the menial rut work of his brother" the other man adds with slight less resistance as the other. Good. There's already tensions arising within the clan, perhaps that's where suspicions will go at first and buy you time.
"Still, a fool. You can't buy your way to heaven but you can certainly try. Silver triumphs" you donât need your own suspicions birthed, you agree with a curt nod of your head and part ways with the men and the market. Your pockets are empty but you have the information you need.
You return to your tree hollow later that evening with a somewhat renewed spirit and a knife you grabbed stabbed into a sack of potatoes at the rear of an unattended stall. You plan to use it on yourself, it's your only current option since you'd never turn it on an innocent like your persecutors had. If you could get close enough to their camp tomorrow, a quick kill to an un-expecting grunt would suffice. You'd have to be clean enough with the execute to collect enough blood and slip out unnoticed and there was simply not enough time for that tonight, not when your visitor would be here after sundown.
Until that time, you pull the knife in-front of you, palm open and ready. There's not even a scar where there had been from his dagger. It's more challenging to cut yourself than have someone else do it, even with your conviction. It's like someone gripping over the hilt and forcing your hand the opposite way, your brains way of rejecting harm. The only choice is to uncoil that feeling and persist, dragging the steel along your skin. The cut is crooked and inferior to the daemons, but it will do. You squeeze your palm over the jar with a hiss, gathering as much of your own blood as you possibly can, the pain subsides eventually the more the jar fills. Truthfully you have no idea how much will be needed, you can only hope it's enough, if more is needed you will reopen the wound.
You wrap it with loose cloth once you're spent, you'll need to be if you want to outset the risk of infection, after all, your hollowed tree is not exactly sterile.
Its fortunate that it doesn't reach freezing temperatures this time of year, it's far too risky for a full fire so instead you settle for a few candles, easy enough to snuff out incase anyone comes wondering. There's little light after sundown though, and now the moon is in the waning phase it won't emit the same cobalt illuminations as your previous meeting. It will have to do. You almost put those candles out when you spot the distant glow of similar ones approaching ever closer surrounding your hollow, like forest sprites awakening. The contrast of the beams against the darkened forest-scape shroud the holder, hiding their face until they crouch to the entrance of your crevice.
His smile is so sickeningly sweet as he cocks his head to get a better view of you, like he isn't here to be your butcher but your jester.
"Hello, little canary" he says with more preciousness than you know what to do with. A candelabra is in his hand, holding five candles that light up his figure enough for you to see he's dressed in full black this time, the inky cloak is floor long and sits high on his neck, trimmed with decadent bronze buttons along the shoulder. It doesn't swamp him, in fact it looks tailored just for him. You find yourself almost matching his smile. Almost.
Reaching into your pocket, you feel for the gift in your pocket and produce it before him. It's a small wooden totem sculpture in the shape of a crow. It's a little unrefined with large carving marks from the chisel but it doesn't lack artist flare. You had found it in the marketplace along with other various trinkets, all handmade by the elderly woman but as soon as you saw the crow it was settled, paying her a penny for the work.
"It reminded me of the crow on your dagger, and you seemed so enamoured by gifts" you grow bashful as you hand him the creation, your tongue stops before it announces that it reminded you of him. His grin grows ever wider, threatening to reach his ear tips and he takes it gently, mirroring your actions to produce something of similar size.
"I also have a gift for you. It's not much and it's long dead, but I recognised this rabbits soul was tied to yours from a previous life. I'm not as adept at decorating it like you though" you graciously accept it, fingertips brushing slightly as he hands it to you. It's tiny and looks one wrong move away from snapping but you hold it close to your chest like your most cherished artefact. It very well might be now.
"Thank you.."
There's infliction in your voice for where his name should be and you realise, you don't know it. He chortles and his shakes his chest enough for his head to fall, probably thinking it foolish he had gone so long without stating himself.
"Kai. My name is Kai" the name floats around in your psyche, determining it to be suited to such a soft being. You give yours in return and he appears to swirl it around like you had, nodding once it settles for him. It feels nice this way, less transactional and more like a lending hand.
"You have a name for me?" He points with his free hand towards the jar of blood to your side, carefully as you can handing it to him to not let on that you had cut yourself for it. For some reason, the idea of his dejection to use your own makes you insecure.
"I have two names" he notices the cadence in your voice before you do, pleased to hear something close to contentment from you. You almost recoil at yourself, it sounds as though you are seeking his approval.
"Good, this should be just enough" he states, observing the jar closely and how to blood pools against the glass. You hate that you feel content from his encouragement even more. While you wallow in that mental intrusion, he looks at you with that consuming gaze, alluring in nature.
"Are you sure about this?" Like before there's something close to condolence in his eyes. You're too far down this path of retribution to stop now, confirming his question with a nod.
"The names?"
"Darth and Rauk Brothwell" the names are sour in your mouth.
"Thank you" there's little time for you to prepare for anything short of confusion as he brings the jar to his lips and drinks until there's but mere droplets left, but the one thing that erupts for you is bashfulness, and if you had thought him knowing it was your blood would be mortifying enough, how could you prepare for this?
The saccharine red stains his chin as it leaks the corner of his lips, painting them rose in the process. If his visuals alone are enough to mistake him an angel, his true identity is clear enough for you now. It doesn't make you wince. Perhaps it should.
There's sudden shock in his irises, he reins it in too late, for you had seen the apprehension.
"This is your blood"
"It is" it's not true disgust you heard in his voice, that much you can tell so your body doesn't respond with dejection.
"This is not sustainable for you. I understand if you are hesitant to take blood violently but surely there are other options for you, someone willing" if you aren't careful you'll mistake his concern for care, so if you have to tell yourself it's simply because you're saving him work in the long run, then that's what you will.
"I'll do what I must" you can feel the reprimand in his stare though he chooses to say nothing this time. He sets the candelabra down, it casts shadows upon the inside of your hollow like the carousel lamps to chase nightmares away from children.
"I would stay longer, but I have my work to do. I'll be back" he never says how long it will take but you know his return is a promise, even as he stands and walks away from you once more. You don't even see him cinder this time, the candles he left you leave you safe and blanketed inside the tree.
ââ .âŚ
The whispers in the market have turned uproarious today, the people are startled as stories and assumptions travel among tongues, more skewed and implausible the more ears are told. One thing remains true through all of the reports; the Brothwell brothers were dead.
You'd heard they were found at first light in a grisly, monstrous scene, blood splattered on every surface, including the 8 foot ceiling of their tent. Lacerations mar their mangled bodies, slumped carelessly over each other. A macabre sight for their cup maiden to stumble upon.
There was uproar in the Lyon's camp, higher clan members barking their rebukes to the lackeys negligence of alerting anyone of what was occurring at the time, all of them swearing they had not heard a sound.
The hearsay tells that the clan leader, the head of the Lyon family sat at the map table with scorn so potent it infects the entire camp, if they had not felt fear for whatever had caused the massacre they would feel it from the threat of his wrath.
You hope every story they tell is true, you can only presume there's truth in them as there are clan members patrolling the marketplace today where there had not been the day before. The sigil they wear on the armour insults you as they filter through the stalls, observing for any unusual behaviour. You will not let their presence spoil you, this was a victory however small, a promise of what's to come.
Your body feels weaker today though, perhaps you had spilled more blood than you could take for the ritual. It's a detriment to your revitalised motivation, but you can swallow it, your demon had done your biding and done it well.
Kai arrives to you again that night, except without a name or blood this time you expect him to part from you without a task to complete. Oddly, he stays, upon your invitation he sits at the entrance of your tree like a guard dog, so sure of his prowess he faces you with his back to the expanse of the dark. He wears the same youthful smile, a stark contrast to how he just slaughtered humans for you. You don't even ask how he did so, it's obvious it wasn't a fair fight as there's not even so much as a scratch on his porcelain skin, nor a blemish on his pristine ivory clothing. His golden locks part slightly to expose a bejewelled piece crowing his forehead, it glimmers in the candlelight and simulates a halo. Without a name to give him, tonight he's your angel.
He converses with you as though a companion would and you speak more words in one night than you had in over a month. You try not to ask details of the realm he traverses, or the intricacies of how he had heard you summon him, that's for you to know when your time comes, like all, yet there's some queries you can't help but let slip.
"What made you accept my plea? It mustn't be a common occurrence for you?" He looks to ponder your question deeply, like his response truly matters and giving you his truth holds weight between you.
"I have love for my position. Souls are a fickle thing when they depart the body, like a lost child that knows nothing but to beg for their mother. My part is not to judge, just to a be a guide" his fingers sweep the candle flames flicker.
"But I saw so much desperation clinging to your soul. Even as you bled out in this very tree you refused me. It happens occasionally but never have I been called upon for such reasons as yours. I'm predisposed to apathy but I guess not immune to it. I felt an inch of the wrath you felt and it was the first thing i remember feeling in so long. So I accepted" The admissions stuns you for just a moment and then it settles. You are not so different, just two beings mistreated and misconceived by this plane of existence.
"I want to bend this world into a shape that is kinder to you" you dart your gaze to his face expecting to see regret at his confession, you find none of that on his features, only sincerity.
That, you don't know what to do with. After your task is done you imagined drowning yourself in the canyons lake, bidding a final farewell to the earth around you in the waters embrace. But from his words alone you ponder if there is anything tethering you here, and that singular doubt terrifies you. There's no chance for you to cross paths with your sister if she was ever to return, even if you braved going home not one person would be there to call your own. You thought about his previous proclaim that daylight was uncomfortable and you pity that, to feel the sun warm your skin in the mid afternoon, the stillness in the forest as it filters and falls through the leaves, was as close to the place those towns children called heaven you would ever reach.
He see the conflict written all over your face so he'll change his flow of conversation for you, but he knows the words touched a place deep inside of you.
The forest around you brightens before the sun rises when it's time for him to leave. You part reluctantly but the promise of nightfall is enough. You plan to have more names for him this time so the weariness in your bones will have to linger. You dress yourself in the most presentable gown you retrieved from the cottage, a rich mulberry in colour and crushed velvet, a cloak to clandestine you, leaving with only this and your dagger holstered to your thing hidden under your dress.
The Lyon's camp is visible from the tree line, you're concealed in the dense thickets and shrubs. You note a few watch guards yet there's no possible way they can monitor all entrances so you make your break to the bushels and baskets containing corn, apples and other supplies, picking up a smaller crate to avoid strain. It's the accessory you need to blend in as you weave through the women chattering and preparing teas for the clansmen. You post yourself near the array of bread for the morning meals, taking small chances to peer behind to observe for any threats as you listened for any leads the girls speak of.
You almost drop the jug of water you hold, heart palpitates and your throat closes off the bile in your stomach when you see him. Stood at the entrance of a tent speaking with two others. You remember looking up at his face when you fell to the tiled floor of your cottage, his dagger lodged in your skin and your sister's blood on his clothes, splattered across the Lyon's crest on his armour.
You have to balance yourself on the table in front of you, knuckles white as you grip the edge with such force it shakes slightly.
"Miss, are you okay?" You barely hear one of the maidens by your side, trying to peer around to catch a glimpse of your complexion as if you were going to faint. You look to her face and her compassion stills you. You hope she will be saved from this life one day.
"Yes. Yes, of course, thank you. I was sent to deliver an early meal to that tent but it appears I was overcome with dizziness" you point wearily to sell it.
"Dillian's tent? I can take it for you. He's unpleasant in the mornings and I wouldn't want him to vent his frustrations onto you"
"That's alright, I feel better now" you barely acknowledge her before picking the tray of food back up and approach the tent with caution. You should leave, you know you should, but you only have half a name and you know it's not enough, so you take the pause you need and peel the curtain back.
His tent is lavish in a way that is beyond him, a table and chair adorned with silver trimmings in the first sectional area with bowls of exotic fruits you saw in the market. There's sashes of fabrics hanging like makeshift curtains, draping over his bed and it almost rivers the floor.
"You can place it on the table, woman" Unadulterated rage is the only thing blurring your vision as you stare at him in suspended animation. How dare he live like this, in a place like this, surrounded by treasures like this, while your sister lies underground. He doesn't even look back when the clink of the tray against the table doesn't ring, he just expects that you will bend to his every will like he's use to.
You aren't thinking clearly when you unsheathe your dagger and jump at him in a frenzied rush. You don't care that he's got at least a foot in height over you, the dagger plunges straight into shoulder blade. It's definitely not clever of you to scream as you do so, scratching your lungs raw yet with all your energy focused on retracting the blade and stabbing again at any expanse of skin it must sound more like a wounded animal. The pained yelp he gasps is a symphony in your ear, pawing over his back in an attempt to thrash you off. He's burly so it's a challenge to grab a smaller target. You recognise this and retreat backwards, far enough away you'd be able to see him coming.
In a split second there's panic for you, the commotion will have alerted backup, you can hear the raised voices and hurried steps outside.
You bolt for a second time.
The way you came is far too risky, you take your chances hastily lifting the back of the tent, heavier than anticipated from the bunched fabric but you have no time to think of this and you dart for the tree line into the forest you came. You think you might have cleared it without too much uproar, so close to clean break when you hear a sharp whip and a crack. You don't even register how close it is to you, even when you glance down to see a sharpened arrowhead pointing due north anchored in your shoulder. Those sounds were you.
Lungs ablaze, set alight by oxygen fighting its way into your diaphragm, it's shredding you inside and out. You try to run but with the way you're sputtering you make it only a few steps. That mental bridge, the one wrestling with you to ignore any pain rushing through your veins is your mortal nemesis, you're suffocating. Your legs are sludging through tar trying to pull them up and forward, chained down with little hope of breaking the mechanical design hauling each chain length away from you.
The trees you pass are blurring into one another, consciousness slowly slipping further and further, evading you despite how desperately you try to grasp at it. Your knees don't register hitting the ground, the only reason you manoeuvre to hunch against a dense trunk is your breathing collapsing, wheezing when you back against it.
The feeling is close to what you imagine drowning to be, the struggle of battling your own body, reject that need to intake air but when you have no fight left you'll let go and it'll feel like flying for only a second. Should you do that now? Let the water wash in and bury you under the surface. Or do you fight it just a little longer, long enough for someone to pull you out.
"Kai..." you rasp, a metallic tang spreading like wildfire on your tastebuds. You wish to beckon him forward to you, but his name passing you makes you recognise how selfish it is, how ironic to call out to the reaper and beg for life.
You are reminded of being tucked in your tree hollow, bleeding out similarly and the silhouette of him watching. You can see it even now, except this time he rushes to your side, your vision hazy but you feel him bunch you up into himself, a cocoon of solace. A warm embrace. It's the last thing you remember twilight envelope.
ââ .âŚ
Before your eyes flutter open, you hear the gentle crackling of a fire, flames alive and healthy but barricaded by the mantel to ensure only the embers can dance over. It's warm, it makes your skin flourish in bumps in content, you don't remember anything being this soothing in quite some time.
You're curious though, so you crack an eye open, they don't feel heavy but weightless and that nothingness you feel in your entire body isn't the lack of anything, it's the presence of fullness. You see the fireplace before you, a rich mahogany carved with ornate spirals and ivy branch emblems, the chair you sit on bares the same markings. It's more like a throne, the back towers behind you and casts an elaborate shadow onto the floor. Despite this, the room lacks no natural light, the window behind you must be floor length as the light spills under your feet.
The room is sectional in design, you seem to be in the recreational portion with a desktop in the corner and minimal furnishings. Everything bleeds opulence without screaming it in your face, it's not boisterous but subtly exquisite, tasteful maroons and ebonies. The next portions is a bedroom, again with little furniture except a canopy bed in the centre, the sheets a pearly cloud, facing the window. In fact, the window stretches across the whole wall with no wonder why the space floods with light. From your position you can't see much of the contents of outside though, only the gentle hum of a dusky day. It's all tranquility when your ears prick to the paces behind you.
"What were you thinking?" Kai whips from around the back of the chair to stand before you, posture tight, he must have been stood there the entire time and only just alerted to your presence. It's Kai's voice, but there's something underlying ln the way it sounds that you haven't heard before, barely lighter than vexation.
"What are you talking about?" Through the wisps of his bangs you can see his brows knitted, glare deepening as you feign ignorance, how could you not know? But you truly have no idea what is happening, where you are at least, the last thing you remember you were smothered by your own lungs with an arrow hanging from you. Now your breaths are effortless, unbound and free from the shackles of pain.
"You went to the camp, didn't you? That's why I found you with an arrow embedded in your lung?" He goads, hands flying in accusatory animation when he gestures to you.
"What choice did I have, you needed a name, and I needed blood!" You bark your response, if he's going to prod your reasoning then you will bite back harder, weaponising his demand.
"Bullshit" you had not heard such vulgarity from his lips, you had not seen him riled in a way and despite your best efforts to push it away, it worries you. You should not have this influence over him, everything you touch turns to ash and fades away. Damned you will be if it should happen to him too.
"There are other options and you know it. You've done it before. You could have avoided this" volume lowers like his defences but his words cut the same.
"I don't have time, Kai" in a heartbeat he's by your feet, palms rested upon your knees and he's never looked more breathtaking than he is now. He's only ever peered down at you, under candlelight that embraces the shadow lines of his features. From this angle you can see the way his brows unfurl, curling in the centre like something close to fret. His eyes are glossed and you can see the hints of amber swirling in the globes, the edge of his lip trembles with all the words he wishes to speak all at once. The lighting paints his cheeks cadaverous, tresses of silver hair framing his temples. He allures like a siren, calling you deeper.
"You ha-" he gulps his words back "you have time"
"Where are we?" His look is too saddening and wrenches your heart, you have to pause and glance to your surroundings, hoping to eliminate the confusion.
"We're somewhere on the other side. Something close to purgatory, nowhere and everywhere" he articulates to the best of his ability in a way for you to wrap your head around.
"I brought you here after I found you to rest. You will be safe"
You reach for your shoulder, to where the arrow sat but it's not there, you don't even feel so much as a wound.
"It's a state of purification, you won't feel your pain here" he answers your wordless question, can see it on your face as you wrack your brain trying to understand everything circulating.
"Why am I here, Kai?" A stray tear streaks your cheek, you were so close to the gratification of knowing your sisters assassin lay cold, or at least would do with his name branded in your memory and a lust to let your blood again to finish the job. But now you were gifted serenity in place you wished not to belong in just yet.
His thumb raises to wipe the tear away with such tenderness it makes another fall in its wake. He cares not, he'll wipe away a thousand tears for a glimpse of your placidity.
"I can't permit you to go back. Not yet. Please, let yourself rest" he's begging at your feet, eyes pleading with yours for semblance of acceptance. Refusal now would be a puncture in your affinity, a knife twisting and contorting into your soul that holds a place for his empathy. The way he had quelled your discomfort, pouring water on the fire inside you and replaced it with a jug to collect your ease and a dash of his own.
"Okay" it doesn't sting like you thought, to admit you need his help this time.
His finger moves to brush a stray wisp from your vision, tucking it neatly with affection that swells you. Reaching upwards, there's little time for you to register the cushion of his lips pressing yours in a tender embrace. It's slow and encompassing and you need no time to adjust to the rhythm he sets unhurried, tempting his tongue along your bottom lip. You allow him in and your tongues slow dance to a song unheard aloud but felt, a musical box inside your mind with the twirling ballerina spinning to the melody you and Kai are creating. Trying so desperately to keep that mellow cadence he succumbs to his own bleeding desire, pushing the back of your head closer with gentleness while his head tilts to allow himself deeper.
Your own fingers rest on his cheeks, pulling him in as if he wanted to let go, fawning and desperately grasping to feel as much as you can.
He seizes the hint, hands coming to the back of your thighs and lifting himself to stand while slotting your legs on either side of his waist. You cross your legs to secure yourself to his hips and he growls into the kiss, too impatient to part from your lips in the movement of delivering you to the bed.
The huger in his lips contradicts how softly you fall on the sheets as snowy as the gown up hitching your thighs, slender fingers mapping as much skin as you'll allow him.
You'll allow it all, sitting slightly and breaking kiss to help him raise it above your head and discard it somewhere uncaring, leaving you almost bare if not for the lace panties that make his mouth water.
"Beautiful..."
He's seen you uncovered before but that was under a dissimilar circumstance. He's not a savage so seeing all of you now is mesmerising, you see it in the way his lips part before diving back to yours. Journeying down your neck, suckling your skin like the sweetest nectar, an intoxicating aroma that he wishes to stick to. His lips never part from you as he makes his way further, the swell of your breast and the valley between before turning full attention to the way they perk to his touch. His tongue swirls the tender flesh, latching like he never wants to let go, caressing your other breast with the hand that isn't roaming your hips, thighs, anywhere he can.
You flinch when he reaches your abdomen and the scarred tissue, it's proof you are still present but only revolts you. You can feel from the twitch in his fingertips he wants to devour you, but he never allows his lips to show it anywhere near there, pressing kisses with the fragility you treat a porcelain doll. What was born from violence is baptised with devotion.
"Kai...please" you pause him, his head snaps up expecting discomfort but the haze in your stare tells him you're pleading for more.
"I know, angel" it's a promise, he kisses his way back up, a reunion of your lips. Your hands slip past his bloused shirt and caress the expanse of his back, dragging your nails on the way down. It's a tussle to remove but with the lessening of barriers between your bodies the more the fire ignites. His fingers dip under the waistband of your panties, leaving you enough time to grip his wrist, verbalise with words, anything to stop him, you do nothing but lift your hips to facilitate the action.
Delectable the whine you release at the pads of his fingers stroking through your core, collecting your arousal. You're more than ready to take him, as if you rutting up to meet his hand couldn't tell him that. Making swift work of discarding his pant legs, he's bare before you, equal in body and spirit. He's aware of the hesitation you hold upon seeing his size, like he's tapped into the frequency of every fluctuation in your emotion.
"I'll only ever treat you with gentleness. Tell me to stop and I will" you don't want him to stop, not at all, but that nod of confirmation is what he requires. Not even when he makes the first push inside you, and you whine and write beneath him do you want him to ever stop. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, he whimpers at the feeling of being surrounded by you, finally filling you to the hilt. A pause for you to adjust to the sheer heaviness inside and atop you as his body blankets yours with more proficiency than the sheets below and he sets a soft pace, pistoning his hips with as much precision a man willing succumbing to his yearning can have.
If your kisses were a dance, this was the binding of souls, intertwined with stardust thread and stitched with the universes adoration along the seams. Like your souls were made of the same thing, eons ago, fractured and imprisoned away from each other by realms and time until this very moment. It's impossible to let him go, you pull him impossibly closer and beg the same stars that made the two of you to remain one for the rest of time.
"F-fuck!" He forgets all decorum at the sight of you and you're right there with him, clawing his back you're sure you're leaving red crescents. How can he bring himself to care or even notice when you feel like heaven welcoming him. There isn't an inch of you untouched by his greedy hands or mouth, hot breath fanning your neck as he pants. The bedsheets are clutched in your palm when you feel his hand ghost over yours, letting him lace your fingers together while the passion spills over.
There's sweat on his brow line and his whines are the only sign of exhaustion, the pace his hips dive into you is only increasing the closer he reaches that rush of white gold in his veins. Then you clench around him and he swears he sees fucking stars, whites of his eyes reflecting you as his eyes roll back and his hips stutter.
"Kai!" Your lips speak while your mind takes the back burner, lost in how full you are, body and soul. It signals how close to that peak you are.
"Let go with me, love. Give me everything, and I'll give it right back" a confession on the tip of his tongue, every inch of you is screaming to give in so you let it. The endorphin rush is the closest to ascension you think you've ever been. Airways tighten when the red hot stoke of pleasure hits, for him too as he plummets as deep as he possibly can and spills into you, the same fervor as how he's lodged himself in your heart. Lock it and throw away the key if this is what it's like to be loved.
Those lips that kissed you with such zeal now flutter along your collarbone, the intensity forgotten but not the worship. You pant and he catches you from the high like a devotee awaiting his messiah, welcoming you back to đĚśđĚśđžĚś đ ĚśđşĚśđĚśđ˝Ěś đĚśđżĚś đĚśđĚśđžĚś đ ĚśđĚśđĚśđĚśđĚśđĚś wherever this was.
"You are an enchantress. You've bewitched me" he confesses roguishly, barely able to break eye contact and you wonder how this is the same demon you conjured nights ago.
"It is not bewitchment. Especially not when I barely have the energy to yawn" your chuckle is as radiant as he imagined, glowing his insides with the same flutters his gives you in your chest.
"Yes, I almost forgot how humans tire" he slips out and removes his crushing weight from your ached muscles, placing a soft kiss to your forehead before shuffling somewhere in the other room and returning with a damp rag. He lifts your arms delicately, gliding its coolness across your skin and when his work is done there it's cleansing your most intimate expanses, never straying in gentleness.
"You have no need for sleep?" Deep down you know the answer, why would a demon need rest but you ask nevertheless, trying to pin any human qualities to him, as if you need it.
"I don't. I can rest my eyes but I don't sleep as you do. This is something close to my own purgatory, that's why the bed appears as it does, it must be something imprinted into my psyche from when I was mortal" there's little emotion in his eyes when he pulls you close, discarding the cleaning cloth in replacement for tugging the sheets to cover you. You rest upon his chest with your head peering up to him, brushing the tousles that fall across his forehead.
"I can't recall my life before this. I could search and search for breadcrumbs and clues but it would matter not. Yet, it does comfort me to know that what once was my haven has followed me here" It quells your curious mind but you can't help but feel sadness for him, even if he can't feel it for himself. Would he have held the same tenderness for things mortal if he experienced first hand how capricious it is to be human? Perhaps he had been the same golden haired boy, revered by everyone who met him. You dare to dream it for him, eyes slipping while he pulls you atop of him, willing you ever closer to never let go.
"Rest, my love. You're safe" The sleep comes fast and easy.
ââ .âŚ
A flightless feeling, one of falling and arising on the feathers shed on the descent, flits of waxen floating and settling in abundance. A phoenix not reborn of ash but of cloud. That's how you awoke, spreading your wingspan across the silken sheets of feathers to nothing but. It's all plush and velvet and no warmth, yielding before the form of the body that was present only hours before is felt.
Eyelids flicker open to find the space empty, the sheets tucked over you to preserve the heat but it's ineffective without him.
Your heart plummets, the feeling reminiscent of being a child again awakened without a mother's voice to guide your consciousness. This is only the ghost of a room, no boots by the bed to signal his return or a bedside table where items are discarded in a pledge to collect them again. But the fire is stoked and roars in obedience, the amber glow is the ignition the soot of your heart needs for rebirth, rising like the same phoenix of delicate plumage. It settles so when on the mantelpiece sits the carved totem and bone you gifted. The bare bones of a room, stripped of memories, still bared its heart, his open casket.
You know he will return, you kick your insides for thinking differently, even if it was involuntary. With this you feel safe enough to emerge from the sheets, finding your gown not on the ground where you left it but tucked and folded at the foot of the bed. Your fingers caress the material like it's a substitute, donning it over your figure.
From the heart of the bed, the full-wall window refracts the outside, it hitches your breath. It's a staggering sight, something you've never seen before with your own eyes and no knowledge of that exists in your domain, peaks and summits crater around you, so elevated the highlands dip the billows of mist. To breathe the pure oxygen of this altitude would be sweet asphyxiation, lungs expanding and filling with fog and you'd welcome it. The slate glow from the day before had turned to moody charcoal, ambient but not enraged as it covets the mountaintops.
And snowfall. It surrenders so gently it appears static, like leaving the heavens above is a saudade adieu. With your palm to the glass you feel the phantom frigidity, it's all an imitation of a time past. Time stands still here.
Even here his hands feel chilled when they snake around your waist in the most luscious constriction, his nose brushing your jaw when he breathes you in.
"Hello, love" dipped honey in his voice, taste and aroma. You rest your head upon his shoulder, leaning into each touch so tightly there's a slight sway in how he holds you.
"You weren't there when I woke" it's vulnerable so you armour it with airiness, the huff of a laugh in your infliction.
"I apologise for that, I had work to attend to" he titters, apprehension tethered in it so you understand sincerely how preoccupied he was required to be. The one embracing you is a passing souls guide after all, and there is never a shortage of dying men.
For moments untold, you both still in the atmosphere, until the inevitable question he dreads comes tumbling from your lips.
"When I complete my task, will you allow me back here?" He feels the sickness he thinks it means to be human, the one he so often witnesses wrenching in despair.
"You need to rest more" you hear him swallow the lump in his throat, feel it on your shoulder like the apple doomed Eden and know itâs deflection. You contemplate turning to see what kind of deception he paints on his face but you fail to see the use in it.
âI killed him, didnât I? Thatâs how you knew to come for me?â Ever since you first set your eyes upon this sanctuary, youâve neglected the rage bubbling inside you, let him quench and wash it over with the ferocity of the north seas riptides. While you wish to remain in that serenity your spirit cannot rest without retribution. He never answers you, never settles that doubt.
âKai, tell me I killed him. That you didnât come forâŚmeâ spinning on your heals you branch from him, you need him to look at you with that rejection in his face and mean it.
âWhat do you want me to say? How can I say that to you?â His eyes that are misted over, tears brimming over the red rim of his waterline, attempting with all his strength to curb the inevitable dam break. His lips quiver and you just know.
Itâs what you wished for once. What you thought you wanted after all was said and done. Perhaps thereâs a fragment of you that still longs for that numbness. You think youâve achieved that even now because nothing and everything makes sense. First, thereâs regret. Regret that youâll no longer feel the dirt beneath your feet and how you took that for granted. Regret for the child in you who once longed for a life free from torment and who she could have been.
Then thereâs rage.
âTell me that I died from that arrow, tell me I didnât fulfil the one fucking thing I needed to in my godforsaken life. Tell me youâre taking me somewhere Iâll never leave! Tell me anything, Kai!â Your wails break him to the core, allowing every hit you take to his chest with open arms, willing and waiting for you to settle there and never disappear.
And then thereâs Kai.
The boy in front of you who welcomed your rage, facilitated it with honor and without second question. Who had guarded your fragility like his own, a shield unbreaking and who had also been your sword. Who you had given yourself to, body and soul knowing he hadnât the fortitude to break it, the daemon with a bleeding heart. You wanted to cling so severely to him, so close that warmth he made you feel cleanses the loathing you hold for yourself.
Your arms eventually give out, only so much strength to divulge. Because you arenât hitting him. Youâre hitting everything you failed to do and be. You concede in his arms, sobs wracking through you but you canât feel how weak they are. He wonât let you, holds you so securely to ensure that. His fingers combing your hair shushes you tenderly as his voice does so, finding purchase in cradling you.
âThey are all dead. You never failed. I made sure of that. Your blood was the vessel of my massacreâ instead of that drop you expect your stomach to take, it⌠silences. You look to his face and see no avoidance now, nothing for him to evade or dodge. Itâs acceptance. This was the substance of your will. You wanted it to feel empty, let the flood wash away any remorse and expel it with the memories of your sisterâs face.
Instead, you feel weightless, like the feeling of falling the moment before you hit the stone. Itâs inside you now, that melancholy content.
âYour soul is refusing me again. Itâs the reason you are here, in my soul scape and not your own. No matter how hard I try I cannot find it. I have no idea if it gladdens or petrifies meâhe admits.
âAll I know is that I donât want to let you goâ there's only stillness in your heart, not from knowing there's a void where your soul should sit but despite it. You are present, wrapped in his arms, in his domain where your soul must long to remain. Those tears welling his eyes are dried because even if he understands nothing and you don't either...
pairing: bi!sunghoon x sub!reader x bi!jake || wc: 2.6k || cw: smut! best friends!sunghoon and jake, voyeurism, masturbation, threesome, kissing, making out, oral (f and m rec.), handjobs, fingering, breast/nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex (don't.), cum play, mxm, dirty talk, strong language, use of petnames, mentions of alcohol  || warnings: +18 content, mdni! || a/n: this was all thanks to this request and i'm unwell haha.
the three of you have always been close â too close, some people say. jake, sunghoon, and you. best friends since the beginning of college, the kind who share late-night snacks, inside jokes that make no sense to outsiders, and secrets that could ruin reputations if they ever got out. but this particular secret is new, and itâs deliciously dangerous.
youâre in jakeâs apartment tonight, the one with the big couch and the soft lighting he always leaves on because he knows you like it. youâre dating jake â sort of. it started as hooking up after one too many drunk nights, but itâs evolved into something warmer, more consistent. it feels exclusive, even if you havenât put a label on it yet. sunghoon knows everything. he always does. heâs seen the hickeys on your neck, heard the muffled sounds through the walls when he crashes on the couch, and never once made it weird.
until tonight.
âiâve been thinking,â sunghoon says casually from his spot on the armchair, long legs stretched out. heâs nursing a beer, eyes flicking between you and jake on the couch. youâre curled into jakeâs side, his arm draped around your shoulders, fingers playing lazily with the strap of your tank top.
jake raises an eyebrow, teeth flashing as he smiles. âdangerous words coming from you, hoon.â
sunghoonâs gaze lingers on you a second too long, then shifts to jake. thereâs something darker in his eyes tonight, a curiosity thatâs been building for weeks. âi want to watch.â
the words drop like a stone into still water. you freeze, heat flooding your face. jakeâs hand stills on your shoulder.
sunghoon nods, not backing down. his cheeks are faintly pink but his jaw is set. âyeah. you two. i know youâre fucking. iâve known for a while. and i⌠iâm curious. about how it looks. how you are with her.â
you swallow hard, glancing at jake. heâs watching sunghoon carefully, but thereâs no anger there â just intrigue, and maybe a spark of something hotter. jake has always been open, playful in bed. this wouldnât be the first boundary you two have pushed.
âyou sure?â you ask sunghoon softly. âit might⌠change things, or make them weird.â
âiâm sure,â he says, voice steady. âif youâre both okay with it.â
jake looks at you, searching your face. you bite your lip, then nod. the idea sends a thrill through you â sunghoonâs intense stare on you while jake touches you. youâve always found sunghoon attractive, tall and sharp-featured with that quiet intensity. knowing he wants to see you like this⌠itâs intoxicating, to say the least.
âokay,â jake says, grinning that charming grin. âbut you stay in the chair unless we say otherwise.â
sunghoon settles back, legs spreading a little wider, beer forgotten on the side table.
jake turns to you first, cupping your jaw and pulling you into a slow kiss. itâs familiar, warm, the kind that always makes your stomach flutter. his tongue slides against yours lazily, deepening it as his hand trails down your neck, thumb brushing your collarbone. you sigh into his mouth, already melting.
sunghoonâs breathing is audible across the room.
jake peels your tank top off slowly, exposing your bra. he kisses down your neck, sucking lightly at the spot he knows drives you crazy. you arch into him, fingers threading through his soft hair. when he reaches behind you to unhook your bra, letting it fall away, you hear sunghoon shift in his seat.
âfuck,â sunghoon breathes. his voice is rough already. âsheâs gorgeous.â
jake smiles against your skin. âisnât she?â he palms one of your breasts, thumb circling your nipple until it hardens. you moan softly, eyes fluttering open to look at sunghoon.
heâs watching intently, lips parted, one hand gripping the arm of the chair. his eyes are dark, fixed on every movement.
jake lays you back on the couch, stripping your shorts and panties down your legs. youâre completely bare now, and sunghoonâs gaze drags over you like he's physically touching you â your breasts, the curve of your waist, the wetness already glistening between your thighs.
âtouch her,â sunghoon says quietly. itâs not a demand, but thereâs hunger in it.
jake chuckles softly and spreads your legs, settling between them. he kisses down your stomach, then lower, tongue flicking out to taste you. you gasp, back arching as he licks broad stripes over your clit, sucking gently. your hand flies to his hair, hips rolling against his mouth.
sunghoon leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees. his eyes are glued to where jakeâs tongue is working you open. âdoes she taste good?â he asks, voice strained.
âso fucking good,â jake murmurs against you, the vibrations making you whimper. he pushes two fingers inside you slowly, curling them just right while his mouth stays on your clit.
youâre moaning louder now, eyes locked with sunghoonâs. the way heâs watching you â like heâs starving â pushes you closer to the edge faster than usual.
but then jake pulls back, stripping his own shirt off. sunghoonâs gaze shifts immediately to jakeâs toned chest, the way his abs flex as he moves. jake catches it and smirks, but doesnât comment. he sheds his pants and boxers, cock hard and leaking as he strokes himself once.
sunghoonâs breath catches audibly. his eyes widen a fraction, pupils blown as he stares at jakeâs length, then at the way jake lines himself up with your entrance.
âready, baby?â jake asks you, but his eyes flick to sunghoon too.
you nod desperately. jake pushes in slowly, stretching you open with that perfect burn. you moan loudly, nails digging into his shoulders as he bottoms out. he starts thrusting, deep and steady, the wet sounds of your bodies filling the room.
sunghoon is breathing harder. his hand presses against the front of his jeans, palming himself openly now. but itâs not just you heâs staring at. his eyes keep darting to jake â the flex of his back muscles, the way his hips snap forward, the sheen of sweat on his skin, the low groans he makes every time you clench around him.
something shifts in sunghoonâs expression. realization. heat. confusion and want all at once.
âjakeâŚâ he whispers, almost to himself. his hand slips inside his jeans, wrapping around his own cock as he watches his best friend fuck you. the sight of jakeâs cock disappearing into you over and over, glistening with your arousal, combined with your breathy moans â itâs too much.
heâs hard as steel, throbbing in his own grip, and the arousal hitting him while watching jake is undeniable. he always knew he liked you. the little attractions, the lingering hugs, the way heâd get jealous when jake touched you. but this â the way his stomach tightens seeing jakeâs flushed chest, the veins on his forearms, the way his jaw clenches in pleasure â itâs new. overwhelming. bi awakening crashing over him like a wave.
âhoon,â you gasp, reaching a hand toward him. âcome closer.â
sunghoon hesitates only a second before standing, jeans open, cock heavy in his hand as he moves to the edge of the couch. up close, he can see everything â the way jakeâs cock stretches you, the slick sounds, your face twisted in ecstasy.
jake slows his thrusts, looking up at sunghoon with dark eyes. âyou like watching me fuck her?â
sunghoon swallows hard, nodding. his voice is wrecked. âyeah. fuck, i do. both of you⌠i didnât expectââ
âitâs okay,â you whisper, cupping his cheek. your thumb brushes his lower lip. âtouch yourself while he fucks me. or⌠touch us.â
that breaks the last of his restraint.
sunghoon leans down and kisses you first â hesitant, then hungry, tongue sliding against yours as jake starts thrusting again. you moan into sunghoonâs mouth, one hand on his chest, the other reaching down to wrap around his cock. heâs big, hot, leaking precum as you stroke him in time with jakeâs movements.
âshit,â sunghoon groans against your lips. âyour hand feels so good.â
jake watches the two of you, hips snapping harder. âheâs pretty when heâs desperate, isnât he, baby?â
you nod, dazed, squeezing sunghoonâs cock a little tighter. sunghoonâs free hand finds your breast, pinching your nipple while he kisses you deeper. then, almost shyly at first, his other hand reaches out to touch jakeâs shoulder, sliding down his back, feeling the muscles move as jake fucks you.
jake shivers under the touch but doesnât pull away. if anything, he leans into it.
then, the dynamic shifts. jake pulls out suddenly, flipping you onto your hands and knees so youâre facing sunghoon. âsuck him while i fuck you from behind.â
you donât hesitate. you take sunghoon into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head as he groans loudly, hand gently guiding your head. jake thrusts back into you, deeper in this position, hitting that spot that makes you see stars. every thrust pushes you further onto sunghoonâs cock, and the sounds are obscene â wet gagging, skin slapping, broken moans from all three of you.
sunghoonâs eyes are fixed on jake now too, watching his best friend pound into you, hands gripping your hips. âjake⌠you look so fucking hot like this,â he admits breathlessly, the words spilling out in the heat of it. âboth of you. i canâtâ i didnât know i wanted this too.â
jake reaches over your back, grabbing sunghoonâs free hand and pulling it to your hip, then lower, guiding sunghoonâs fingers to where his cock is sliding in and out of you. sunghoon groans at the feeling â the stretch, the wetness, the way you flutter around jake.
âtouch me too,â jake says roughly.
sunghoon does, hesitant at first, then bolder â palming jakeâs balls, then wrapping fingers around the base of jakeâs cock as it moves. jake moans loudly, hips stuttering.
the three of you move together like that for what feels like hours â a messy, perfect rhythm that blurs time and leaves the room thick with the scent of sex and sweat.
youâre on your hands and knees on the couch, mouth full of sunghoonâs cock as you suck him sloppily, spit dripping down your chin while your tongue swirls around the head and takes him deeper with every forward rock of your body.
jake is behind you, fucking you in steady, deep thrusts that punch the breath out of your lungs every time he bottoms out. the wet, obscene sound of his hips slapping against your ass mixes with your muffled moans and sunghoonâs low, broken groans.
sunghoonâs hand is gentle in your hair, not forcing but guiding, his thumb stroking your cheek almost reverently even as his cock twitches on your tongue. his other hand keeps wandering â brushing over your back, then reaching further to touch jake wherever he can reach. fingers tracing the flexing muscles of jakeâs shoulder, sliding down the sweat-slick line of his spine, then lower, palming jakeâs ass as he thrusts into you. every new touch makes sunghoonâs breath hitch harder, like heâs still shocked by how much he wants this.
âfuck⌠look at you,â sunghoon murmurs, voice wrecked and awed. âtaking both of us so well.â
jake groans in agreement, one hand gripping your hip tightly while the other reaches around to rub your clit in tight circles. âsheâs perfect. so fucking wet for us. you feel how tight she gets when you touch me, hoon? she loves it.â
sunghoon nods shakily, eyes locked on where jakeâs cock disappears inside you over and over, glistening with your arousal. the sight combined with the heat of your mouth around him is driving him insane. his hips start twitching forward more desperately, fucking your throat a little deeper as his usual cool composure completely unravels.
eventually jake slows his thrusts, pulling out with a wet sound that makes you whine around sunghoonâs cock. he flips you gently onto your back, spreading your legs wide. âyour turn, hoon. fuck her while she strokes me.â
sunghoon doesnât need to be told twice. he moves between your thighs, eyes dark and hungry as he lines himself up. he pushes in slowly at first, savoring every inch, jaw dropping at the tight, wet heat enveloping him. âoh my god⌠baby,â he breathes, the pet name slipping out naturally. he bottoms out with a shudder, staying still for a moment just to feel you clench around him.
you reach for jake, wrapping your hand around his slick cock and stroking him steadily. jake leans down to kiss you messily, tongue sliding against yours while sunghoon starts moving â gentle, rolling thrusts at first, like heâs memorizing the feeling. but it doesnât stay gentle for long. his control snaps, hips speeding up until heâs thrusting deep and hard, the couch creaking beneath you. every snap of his hips forces broken moans from your throat.
sunghoon pants, moaning both your name and jakeâs in the same breath like he canât separate the pleasure anymore. âfeels so good⌠both of you.â
jake kisses you harder, then pulls back just enough to lean over and capture sunghoonâs mouth in a kiss â tentative at first, testing, lips brushing softly. sunghoon freezes for half a second, then surges forward into it, turning the kiss deep and filthy, tongues tangling as he keeps fucking you harder. the sight alone makes you clench around him.
itâs overwhelming. it's fucking perfect. the air is thick with moans and gasps and the wet sounds of bodies moving together. sunghoonâs hand finds one of your breasts, pinching your nipple while jakeâs fingers return to your clit, rubbing fast. youâre caught between them, pleasure building impossibly high until it crashes over you.
you come first with a sharp cry, back arching clean off the couch as your walls flutter and squeeze around sunghoonâs cock. the intensity triggers his own orgasm almost immediately â he buries himself deep, hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a loud, broken moan of your name mixed with jakeâs. his whole body trembles through it, face buried against your neck.
jake follows seconds later, stroking himself furiously over your bodies. thick ropes of cum paint your stomach, your breasts, and sunghoonâs chest where heâs still leaning over you. jake groans deeply, milking every last drop as he watches the mess heâs made on both of you.
after that, the three of you collapse in a tangled, sweaty pile on the couch. limbs are everywhere â sunghoonâs head resting heavily on your stomach, breathing hard against your skin, while jake sprawls half on top of both of you, one arm wrapped protectively around your waist and the other draped over sunghoonâs back. the room feels warm and hazy, hearts still racing as the high slowly ebbs.
sunghoonâs breathing is still shaky as he processes everything, fingers tracing idle patterns on your hip. after a long silence, he lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh.
âthat was⌠my bi awakening, i think,â he admits quietly, voice hoarse. âi knew i liked her. iâve liked her for a while. the way she laughs, the way she fits between us⌠but watching you, jake â fuck. the way you moved, the sounds you made, how you looked fucking her⌠i didnât expect to want that too. want you too.â
jake presses a gentle kiss to sunghoonâs temple, then leans over to kiss your forehead, his dimples soft and warm. âgood. because weâre not done tonight. not even close. weâve got all night to figure this out⌠together.â
you smile sleepily, contentment settling deep in your chest as your fingers card gently through sunghoonâs damp hair. the three of you â best friends who have always been a little too close, a little too intertwined â finally feel like something more. lovers. a unit. whatever this is now, it fits perfectly, like it was always meant to be this way.
and there are many more nights ahead where curious eyes turn into wandering hands, shared pleasure, and something that feels a lot like love.
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Summary: Everything in your senior year of college felt like you needed just one more; one more class, one more test, one more line, and it would all be over, and you could finally rest your bones. And with Hongjoong by your side; every class, every test, every line came easy. And when Tuesdays and Thursdays came to a close, you could peacefully rest your bones beside him. Drawing to your hearts content as he scribbles down a half a page of lines.Â
Oneshot
College au, Friend to Lovers au, Fluff, Smut
Warnings: Protected sex (we cheered), Public sex [(off-campus in the woods) (they donât get caught- but also don't do this (we boo)]], Possibly exhibitionism(?), Messy/Half-Clothed sex, Quickie(?), Praise (ofc), Clit Stimulation, Slight! Nipple/Breast play, Use of Petnames: Baby & Joong. *And if I missed anything pls lmk!*
Word Count: 4,205
Music Major! Hongjoong X Fashion Major! Reader
[A/n: This is my part of @sungbeam's Live Alive! Collab!! Thank you so much for hosting this fun collab, Beam!! đĽšđ I'm so glad to be a part of it and write this for our lovely captain~ Make sure to check out the other fics in this event's collab!! They're bound to be lovely! And while itâs not mentioned because I kind of had to rush this idea along, they minor in each otherâs majors </3 and thatâs how they met.]
If you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work.Â
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Itâs finally Tuesday, after a long weekend of studying, and dreaded early morning Monday classes. Classes that you really should have taken in the afternoon like your counselor suggested, but you hadnât. You finally made it to Tuesday, and youâre so happy, because it finally means you can draw to your hearts content with no harsh lights burning your eyes or annoying noises filling your ears. Just the pleasant sounds of birds chirping and Hongjoong humming a tune or two as the warm sunlight streams past the tree branches. Lighting and sounds you could easily take in and enjoy as you sketched out new outfits for your latest line.
You sigh happily as you make your way off campus and down the elephant trail that leads to the place where you always meet up just to find Hongjoong already there waiting for you. Heâs leaning against the large oak tree with his legs crossed over the throw blanket he always brings to your guyâs hangouts. His acoustic guitar is lying beside him, waiting to be strummed, and you figure heâs already tired of it considering how itâs halfway strewn in its case. He looks so peaceful writing in his notebook that it causes you to smile as you walk up to him. He looks up the second he hears the leaves crunching under your shoes and he gives you a smile, âHey,â and you grin, âHey!â You quickly situate yourself besides him, pulling out your sketchbook while he continues scribbling words down.Â
You settle against the tree, drawing a faceless model to add clothes to before you play around with shapes until you find something you like. You grin as the outfit comes together, and when youâre finished you turn your book to show Hongjoong. And he looks over and a smile instantly graces his lips, âI like the way the bread hat accentuates the outfit, it makes it complete.â You grin and quickly tell him, âThatâs what I was hoping for.â He turns his notebook towards you, âItâs not complete yet, but what do you think?â You take your time reading over the words he has written, âI really like the line, âWhat you're to be, don't have to be, you never know what's around the bendâ Itâs very comforting to me.â He smiles, âI was hoping youâd say that.â You both go back to your books, quietly fine tuning your pieces as the sun slowly sets.Â
The sun is halfway set when he says, âI got something for us~â And you immediately raise your head to look up and then he turns shy, âI uh⌠I brought some⌠blackberry sangria if youâre interested?â You grin, âAlways~â He uncorks it with his keys, before he gives you the bottle so you can have the first sip. You take it from his hand and happily take a sip from it. A grin spreads over your lips, âOhâŚ! Now, thatâs a good one.â He hums, âReally?â You nod as you give it back, so he can try. You watch as he takes a sip, and you watch as he takes a sip, how his eyes close and how his adam's apple bobs up and down before he opens his eyes. You grin at how wide his eyes are, already knowing he was pleasantly surprised. He tells you, âOh, that's good.â You agree, âI told you so~â You take turns taking sips, growing tipsy as you do, before you both scoot away from the oak tree to lay down on your backs and admire the stars now that the sun has fully set.
You grin as you find a constellation and instantly point it out, âOh, it's the Big Dipper!â He lets out a soft gasp before he points up too, âLook, the little dipper is right under it!â His hand draws closer to yours as you each point out constellations you can see. And he tells you as his hand bumps into yours, âIt's my favorite, Orion's BeltâŚâ And for some reason, it just feels right to intertwine your fingers with his. He looks over at you with wide eyes, not expecting it. And if the sun was still out, you could see how red his ears become as he tightens his fingers against yours, keeping your hands close together as you both continue to point out the stars.Â
---
It felt right Tuesday night to hold hands with him, as you both giggled all the way home, the wine finally getting to you both as you walked home hand in hand. And when you finally had to let go, he lifted your hand up to place a kiss on it. You parted with a blush dusting your cheeks before you exchanged soft âgood nightâsâ to each other before you went to bed. Like a drunken fool you felt like screaming, âHe kissed me!â Even though he only kissed your hand, but to your tipsy self, with how giddy the small act made you, it felt like he really did kiss you.Â
You went to all of your classes on Wednesday with a smile blooming on your face. No matter how hard the classes were or how difficult the new concept they were teaching you was, you couldnât stop smiling. You werenât sure what overcame you, but you knew whatever it was, it was right. Even when your professor called on you, when you clearly didnât catch their question, you didnât even feel ashamed asking them to repeat their question they asked you. Thankfully, you did have the answer, or youâre sure the smile would have finally fallen from your face. You even felt giddy as you reheated yesterdayâs leftovers in your dormâs microwave. Youâve never been this excited for leftovers in your life. But it wasnât because of that, it was because you held hands and nothing, even how tiring you knew tomorrowâs classes were going to be before you got to see Hongjoong, could weigh you down.Â
And now it's finally Thursday, and the sun is still shining brightly, and you can feel the excitement in your veins as you approach the secluded oak tree. You practically collapse against him, the weight of your harder classes finally catching up to you as you grow closer to your favorite resting place. He hums, âLong day?â You groan, âYeah. But it's better now, I finally get to rest beside you.â You don't see the way his ears redden at that, but you do feel the way he slightly stiffens, and you tilt your head up, âWas that too much?â He shakes his head, âNo, I just didn't realize you looked as forward to these nights as I did- do.â You smile at him and rest your head against his shoulder again and just take the moment in.Â
You feel the warmth of his hand near your hair, and you can tell heâs hesitating, so you reach up and gently guide his hand to rest in your hair. His fingers are awkward for a moment before he starts running his fingers through your hair and you feel like falling asleep right then and there. You had projects to catch up on, and things to do tomorrow, but right now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was his comforting touch and his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep.Â
When you wake up from your nap, the sun is starting to set, and you find Hongjoong sleeping underneath you. You do your best not to wake him, gently moving away just to see his eyes flutter open. And you sigh, âSorry, I didnât mean to wake youâŚâ He shakes his head, âThatâs probably the best sleep Iâve had in weeks.â You laugh at that, âSame here.â He stretches his arms out and you follow suit, and he lets out a soft sigh before leaning against you tiredly, which shocks you because heâs never been the type to show affection first. So, you happily take it in stride, âDo you want to go back home and sleep? I can walk you there?â He shakes his head against your shoulder, âNo, I just wanna stay hereâŚâ You smile and he says softly, âYou know, when I was youngerâŚâ âHmm?â He continues, âIâd write songs tirelessly, never giving up until they were perfect⌠And now, I know when to put down the pencil, and when to try again tomorrow.â You softly reply, âThatâs good.â He softly tells you, âI used to beat myself up over not being able to craft the exact sound or the exact word I wanted at the moment.â Your heart sinks at that, âOhâŚâ He sighs heavily, âIâm still hard on myself, but I feel like⌠I donât know- this is gonna sound silly.â You shake your head at him, âNothing you say is silly unless you intend for it to be.â And he continues, âI donât know⌠Being around you and watching how you give yourself leniency and are kind to yourself allowing yourself breaks. Or when something doesnât go your way, you turn a new page and start again instead of nitpicking yourself⌠I donât know⌠I find so much strength in the way you take care of yourself⌠It makes me take a step back to continue my work later with a clearer head.âÂ
You move his hair so he can look you in the eyes, âThatâs not silly⌠But if it is, then I have something silly to tell you back.â Your hand rests on his cheek as you tell him, âI admire the way even if itâs not going your way, you donât give up on your ideas like I do. I give up the second they get too hard and do something I find easy. And the way, even when the word doesnât come to your mind, you still search for it. And when you ask me if I know what word youâre looking for, and I find it for you⌠The way your eyes light up, just fills me with immense happiness. That I wish to help you continuously because it inspires me. Your drive is insane and I admire it intensely. The way you never give up, makes me want to continue pieces Iâve given up on. You make me want to draw one more line.âÂ
His eyes sparkle as he looks at you, âYouâre my calm waters.â And you softly tell him, âAnd youâre fire that keeps me warm.â You move your hand from his cheek, and youâre surprised when his hand finds yours and moves your hand to rest against his cheek again. He asks softly, âWould it be wrong for me to want to kiss you?â You shake your head, âNot if I want you to kiss me too.â He shyly giggles before his lips find yours. Itâs soft and sweet at first, both of you getting used to the new sensation, before it turns intense, both of you wanting to consume the other. Your hands find their way into his hair and his hands rest against your cheeks keeping you close to him. Both of you moan into each otherâs mouth as you make out against the large oak tree.Â
When you pull away, you rest your forehead against his, and the both of you breath heavily trying to catch your breath as you look into each otherâs eyes. You whisper, âCan we do that again?â He hums in agreement, before he pulls you on top of him, shifting underneath you until youâre both comfortable. He smiles at you before his lips capture yours, and you grin in delight as you kiss him again. Your hands find their way into his soft locks, playing with his hair as your lips glide against each other.Â
He playfully tugs at your bottom lip, and you let out a soft moan before letting his tongue explore your mouth. You feel him grow hard beneath you canât help the little giggle that spills from your lips as you grind down against him and he groans into your mouth before he pulls away. His eyes sparkle as he looks at you, âHaving fun, baby?â You grin, âVery much so.â And his hands find their way under your shirt and he softly asks, âIs this, okay?â You nod and he lifts your shirt up and over your head, before he takes his time admiring how you look. He lets out a low hum of approval, âYou look pretty, baby⌠So pretty.â His eyes shift around the woods around you, before he asks, âYou sure you want to do this here?â You look behind you, seeing how the sun has nearly set before you nod eagerly, âYeah, itâs almost nighttime⌠The only people around will be security guards, if that.â He nods, as his fingers play over your bra, before he slips your bra straps down, âBut weâll have to be quickâŚâ You shrug, âWe can take it slow next time⌠But I need you now.â You see his ears turn red already imagining how next time will go and you canât help but giggle again before you grind down on him harder.Â
Your hips rock against his, causing him to buck against your movements. He takes off his hoodie, keeping it between him and the tree so it doesnât leave weird red marks against his skin. And you drop your hands to his sides to sneak them up under his shirt. And he raises his brow at you before you pull it off him and he pulls you close to him again. You barely have the time to take in the sight before you before his lips are on yours again. And you sigh into the kiss, feeling his hands rub over the lace of your bra before he gives you a gentle squeeze over the fabric, causing you to let out another soft noise.Â
His hands make quick work of your bra while your lips meld together. You can feel him grin against your lips when he finally removes it and can feel your soft flesh in his hands. You move your hips along his harder as you feel his thumbs rub over your nipples. When you pull away to breath, you look down at his hands that are full, and he grins at the sight before him. Your cheeks are red, but you canât help the soft noises that slip past your lips as he continues playing with them. He asks gently, âDo you want to go further⌠or?â You nod eagerly before you tell him, âFuck, please⌠I need to feel you inside of me.â He grins and places a gentle kiss on your lips before he has you lift your hips off his a bit.Â
You scoot your pants and panties halfway down as he quickly unzips his own and pushes them and his briefs halfway down his legs as well. And you let out a dreamy sigh, âI thought your thighs were pretty before, but fuck...â You take the sight of him in, enjoying the way his cock twitches at your stare and you canât help but wrap your hand around him and give him a quick pump, which causes him to groan. He lets out a deep sigh before he reaches into his wallet and flips it open and pulls the silvery package out of it. You grin at each other as he rips the package open, and you ask, âCan I?â He nods and gives you it, and you eagerly roll it over his cock and pump him again, and he groans, âFuck, I should have known youâd do that again.â You laugh and he rolls his eyes, moving your hand away before he adjusts you over him.Â
He lines himself up with your entrance before he slowly moves you down on top of him, and you let out a soft gasp as his tip finally pushes inside of you. He lets out a soft groan, resting his head against the tree behind him as he slowly fills you up. You rest your hands on his shoulders as he slowly pushes the rest inside of you, causing your grip on his shoulders to tighten with every inch he pushes inside of you before he finally bottoms out inside of you. Causing you both to let out soft little noises of relief. He gives you a big grin, and you mirror it before you rest your forehead against his, just taking it all in as you both breathe steadily.Â
After a few moments, you make the first move, raising your hips up a little before setting them back down. You let out a few breaths before you decide to move again, getting used to the sensation of him inside of you. You feel his hands grip a little tightly against your hips before you feel him take over for you, guiding your hips up and down along his length with ease. You rest your head against his shoulder with your nose to his neck.
You feel his lips graze your collar, and you gasp when you feel him suck a mark against it, and before he can leave a deep red mark, he pulls back to ask, âCan I leave hickeys on you?â You smile lazily, âPlease do.â He grins and without a second word his lips are back on your collar, leaving a deep red hickey for all to see when you wore your custom-made shirts. Your lips find his neck, and you place a gentle kiss against it before you find the perfect spot, where his shoulder meets his neck, and you suck a mark into his skin. And he lets out a soft groan, thrusting a little harder into you as you do.Â
He adjusts his grip so his hips will do most of the work. And you take the opportunity instantly, grinding your hips down against him every time he thrusts up against you, making him groan loudly. And you grin, satisfied with the noises you were finally pulling out of him. He sounded so pretty beneath you, that you canât help but wonder if heâll remix your shared moans someday and put them in a song.Â
He removes his right hand from your hip, keeping you steady with his left as his thrusts grow faster. And you feel his fingers move along your stomach and down over your mound until they finally graze your sensitive clit, causing you to let out a moan. You watch as a smirk grows across his face as he fingers start rubbing the small nub, âYou like that, baby?â You quickly nod, and his eyebrow raises, and you instantly know what he wants, âI doâŚâ He smiles and kisses you over your chest, rewarding your verbal response with wet little kisses.Â
The faster he moves inside of you and the quicker his fingers rub, the closer you feel yourself getting. Your walls clench as you feel it approaching, and he lets out a soft groan, barely keeping it together. And you groan, âFuck, JoongâŚâ He hums against your neck, âYeah?â As if he doesnât already know that youâre about to unravel around him. And you whine, feeling it tightening the more his fingers rub fast circles against your clit, âIâm gonna cumâŚâ He pulls back from your neck to look over you, âThen, cum, baby, I want to see you cum around meâŚâ His fingers move faster and you gasp, and he groans as he feels your walls tighten even more around him, his other hand works hard to keep your movements steady as you get closer and closer to the edge.Â
He looks at you intensely as your walls clench tightly around him, and you let out a loud moan as you cum all over him. Your thighs shake from the overwhelming sensation. And he canât stop the loud groan that escapes his mouth at the sight of you cumming around him. You looked ethereal and he couldnât get enough; his thrusts quicken pace as his fingers slow down against your clit. He watches how your head lolls a bit before your gaze locks onto him, watching him start to unravel beneath you.Â
You watch as his stomach clenches and you feel how he twitches inside of you before he finally cums inside of you, spilling into the condom he wore. God, he looked heavenly with his hair starting to stick to his forehead with sweat, he looked too good. You move forward and capture his lips in a kiss, and he lets out a soft groan against your lip as he rides out your highs. When you finally pull away, he has a lazy smile playing on his lips, âFuck, you felt so good.â You hum before you kiss his cheek, âSo did youâŚâ He slowly lifts you off of him and you pout from the emptiness, and he quickly kisses your pout away, making you giggle before he pulls off his condom and ties it up. Before he gasps looking around, âOh god, I forgot we werenât in one of our roomsâŚâ You cackle before you find the plastic bag in your tote bag and hand it over to him.
He tosses it inside and ties the plastic bag up before moving it to the side of the throw blanket. And thatâs when you gasp, your brain floods with an idea and you see a similar flicker across Hongjoongâs face. And instead of getting dressed, you both reach for your books. He grabs a flashlight from his bag, while it was bright enough to see each other in the moonlight, it wasnât bright enough to see pencil on paper. So, he quickly turns it on, using his knees to hold it up so you can both jot down your ideas. After a rough sketch of your idea, you scoot your pants back up before continuing, making an outfit based on the way he left you unraveled yet fuller than youâve ever felt. And you hear him humming out a little tune as he quickly writes line after line down.Â
When you both come up for air, the ideas finally letting you both rest. He takes his time helping you back into your shirt after you turned down putting your bra back on, choosing to toss it into your bag instead. You help him back into his hoodie after he threw his shirt back on. You gather up your stuff and walk hand in hand through the woods. When he reaches the first trash can you both see, he tosses the soiled plastic bag. The two of you giggle knowing what was in it and knowing what caused it.Â
---
Itâs the Sunday after, and youâre lazing around your apartment, reading on your couch after a long nap when you hear a knock on your door. And your head perks up, not expecting anyone. You look down at your pajamas, and shrug, whoever was at the door would have to accept that today was your day to laze away. You make your way over to your front door, peek through the peephole and find itâs Hongjoong. And you canât resist the blush that blooms over your cheeks as you open the door.
You shyly say, âHi,â feeling a little awkward in your pajamas considering how nicely he was dressed up with a pair of black ripped jeans and a silken shirt. He smiles and softly tells you âHiâ back. His hand is behind his back as he looks at you, âI know we usually donât see each other on Sundays⌠but, um⌠I thought Iâd bring you these.â He pulls out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and your cheeks redden even more, you softly thank him and he grins. You reach out and take them from his hands and he asks, âCan I come in?â You whisper, âI uh⌠I didnât clean.â He shrugs, âI live with seven other guys⌠Iâm pretty sure your whole apartment is cleaner than our living room.â You laugh, letting the awkwardness ease off your shoulders as you invite him to sit on your couch while you get a vase.Â
Instead of following your instructions, he follows you, helping you cut the stems on angle, so theyâll live longer in the vase you found for them. You stir the powder into the water before he puts them inside the vase and you ask, âSo, why did youâŚ?â You gesture to the flowers, He rubs the back of his neck, âUm⌠I uhâŚâ You give him time, because you know how easily he clams up when it comes to emotions. He looks shy before he finally says, âI actually wanted to uh⌠ask you on a date. A real one.â You ask in shock, âLike today?â He nods and you canât fight back the smile as you eagerly tell him, âGive me thirty minutes to clean myself up and get ready, okay?â His expression mirrors yours and you lead him to the couch as you quickly toss away your lazy Sunday dreams to go on a date with your favorite person in the world, your muse, Kim Hongjoong.
you solve the mystery of what to have for dinner one night and you think "hell yeah case closed forever" WRONG there is a dinner mystery the next night too
everyone thinks ji changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is.
⡠genre, part warnings. e2l, childhood friends gone bad, (extra) slow burn, fluff, angst, crying lol, mentions of childhood trauma and parental manipulation, arguing, bittersweet galore, nct ten is there for the sole purpose of being nosy like the rest of us or for being a 2nd male lead who knows!, swearing, hurt/comfort, kissing!, ji changmin dancing (need i go on), symptoms of panic/anxiety, a lot of non-tbz moments sorry i meant it when i said extra slow burn, im literally writing abt people who dance like gods but im a plebian w two left feet i have no idea what im looking at except for hipsâ, pining haha...ha (more subtle until the end), he's in a bathrobe near the end sorry children
⡠PART TWO WC. 17.6k
love in unity series m.list / otr part one
a/n: if u haven't read part one GO AWAY GO READ PART ONE ??? WHAT'RE U DOING HERE
EPISODE NINE: OFF THE AIR
IT was common knowledge that the week before finals week was referred to as the dreaded Dead Week. Campus was barren, coffee shops and libraries were packed, and almost everybody lived in some variation of sweats, hoodies, and eye bags. You were actually holed up in the research lab (yes, again) because your deadline to get this paper to your graduation advisor was literally looming over your shoulder, and though you were practically done, you were too paranoid of not catching some dumb typo before you turned it in.
Plus, the coffee in the lab break room was free and sponsored by your resident graduate student supervisor, and beloved older brother figure, Qian Kun. God rest his workaholic soul and empty pockets.
There weren't many people here this afternoon; most had retreated to their own homes or offices or wherever they dwelled during the Week of the Dead.
Then there was Ten.
"So do you guys just wither away here by yourselves?" Amongst the empty workbenches, his words seemed to unnecessarily resonate. From his perch in Kun's office, he spread his arms wide to gesture to all the empty space.
Kun pressed his fingers to the space between his eyes. "Yes, now let me wither in peace."
"No, I don't think I will."
You felt yourself smile. Ten had come in a few hours ago with lunch for both you and Kun. Supposedly, when he had heard that the two of you habitually ran on only coffee and dreams during Dead Week, he took it upon himself to swing by the nearest fast food restaurant and pick up a very belated lunch for you both. Youâd chomped down on it with Kun in his office, but as soon as you were done, you retreated back to your desk.
The sky outside of the research laboratory was already beginning to bruise to a gray-blue-purple, the color of a dusty blueberry. Soon, you would have to surrender yourself to the night and head back home, but hopefully before that, you would decide that you were at least too tired to continue staring at these same seventeen pages for hours on endâŚ
All three heads perked up at the sound of the laboratory building door opening and closing in the distance. None of you were exactly expecting anyone, especially when people usually indicated when they would come into work. You craned your neck from your workbench to see who had come inâ
âIâll only be a minute,â you heard and recognized your colleague Jacob Bae as he strode in from the outside corridor and into the main laboratory floor.
He met your eyes and smiled. âHey, Yn.â
âHey, whatâs up?â
He let out a sigh as he jogged past your desk and headed toward a cupboard in the back corner. âI forgot that I left myââ His voice cut out as he ducked into the dark cupboard and withdrew a giant plastic tub. From the plastic innards filled with paper, he fished out a specific packet of paper shoved into a flimsy manila folder. âForgot my thesis draft.â
You coughed out a laugh. âDude.â
His grin was innocent and boyish, standard Jacob. âWhat? A guyâs gonna forget some things sometimes.â
âIs that what you tell your girlfriend?â
He sent you an unimpressed look. âHa ha, Yn. Very funny. For your information, sheâs more forgetful than me sometimes.â He stuck his tongue out at you as he passed by your workbench, and you, as the very mature person you were, stuck your tongue out back at him. It was only fair.
A cough sounded out from the entrance to the laboratory, and you turned your head to find Changmin, out of all people, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Peering out from behind the corner of the wall, however, was his friend Sunwoo from that other night. And yanking Sunwoo back behind the wall was Chanhee. Strange.
Someone (you suspected Chanhee) gave Changmin a firm shove into the laboratory, sending the latter stumbling in before he caught himself and regained his balance. He was swaddled in a dark colored puffer jacket and a red scarf, his red-tipped nose and cheeks bitten by the cold. For the first time, he looked smaller than he was, almost shy or nervous. You hadnât encountered this Changmin in a long time.
He wasnât one to look vulnerable out in the open like this.
As Jacob passed by Changmin, he clasped his shoulder in reassurance.
âHi,â Changmin said slowly as he approached your workbench.
You were still a little dumbfounded that he was here again. âUh, hi. Whatâre you doing here?â The argument the two of you had earlier in the week replayed in your mind, and you almost grimaced. Youâd both said even more hurtful things, and you supposed you had just been so sensitive that your brain just automatically went into defense mode to protect yourself.
No, you hadnât been there that night for him. You hadnât expected to see anyone there at that time of night. That was the whole point of you going so late. You had been trying to get yourself to go into the practice room on your own, but the longer you had stood there, staring at the door, the more you realized you couldnât do it. It still didnât sit well with you, how affected you were by your motherâs past words.
Changmin kept his distance, but he came close enough that you could hear what he was trying to say without the others listening in too much. âI was wondering if we could talk.â
You blinked. âTalk? Like right now?â Your eyes darted to your computer screen and the practically finished paper displayed. It wasnât like you wanted to keep working on it, but your heart beat startled at the sudden thought of having that very important conversation right now, when you werenât ready.
He caught onto your movements though. âNo, noâI mean,â he stammered, recovering with a quick swipe of his tongue over his lip, âjust whenever. It doesnât have to be now. I just figured itâd be best to get that⌠out in the air, you know?â I think itâs what weâve been needing all this time. Something proper; no more yelling matches.
For a second, you thought you could see some of the old Changmin in this one. It wasnât like he had changed, per se, it was more like he was finally showing that part of himself that you had been missing all along. You swallowed, nodding. âOkay. Yeah, Iâll, uhm, text you sometime tonight after I turn this paper in.â
He nodded back at you. âYeah, cool.â
When you saw him begin to back away, a thought suddenly occurred to you. You called out to him to get him to stop, and you could have sworn that there was a gleam in his eyes then. âChangminâabout SuminâŚâ You inhaled deeply as you fought for the right words to express your next thoughts, âbe gentle with her, okay?â
Even then there was a pang in your heart as you uttered those words. Sumin had texted you all about her interaction with Changmin a day or so ago regarding his âinterviewâ, and she had been gushing about her crush on him. She had even asked you how much you knew about him and if you could give her a crash course in all things dance or even Changmin. Suffice to say, you felt trapped between a rock and hard place, but you didnât want to let her down. (Youâd always wanted to be a big sister; you didnât want to push her away because of feelings that you were too petty to address.)
Changminâs head tilted to the side as he made a confused face. âHuh?â
You sighed, âYou seriously didnât notice?â
âNo, actually,â he quipped.
You pursed your lips; why werenât you surprised? It wouldnât be very cool of you to reveal Suminâs crush on him if that wasnât what she wanted. You would have to be subtle, but also not subtle, then. âJustââ you made a vague gesture with your hands, ââdonât be brash.â
âBrash?â
âDonât be mean,â you amended.
âI still have no idea what youâre talking about.â
You thought even Ten rolled his eyes from where he was in Kunâs office. âYouâre hopeless, really.â
Changminâs face pinched, and he was moving back closer to your workbench. âIâll have you know that weâre both hopeless.â
You deadpanned. âNow Iâm pretty sure weâre not even in the same ballpark,â you muttered in exasperation. âWhatever. Your friends are waiting for you, Changmin.â
His lips pressed into a line. He glanced quickly over his shoulder where his friends were pretending to not be eavesdropping, then looked back at you. âOkay, yeah. Just donât forget.â
âI wonât,â you promised.
EPISODE TEN: OFF THE MARKET
CHANGMIN glanced up at the entrance to the coffee shop, matching the sign in the window to the one he had searched up on his GPS app. It seemed to match from what he saw.
Today was the Friday of Dead Week, a handful of days after he dipped out of his interview with Sumin and confronted you at the laboratory. He had consulted Chanhee that day, regarding his mess of feelings about the situation with you, and Chanhee had practically forced him to go with him and Jacob to the laboratory. (Sunwoo just happened to tag along because he, apparently, felt left out.) Changmin wondered how Chanhee could have possibly known that you would be there, but Chanhee dismissed his worries by assuring him that after he asked you, he would feel a lot better and less like a hot pile of shit.
Chanhee was right, as per usual. Not that Changmin was going to admit that aloud to him ever.
But today was important because of two things in particular, and they both had to do with things that occurred several days ago. The first item on the agenda was going into this cafe to finish up that un-started interview with Sumin. After he had given her his number that day, she was swift to send a greeting text to him to set up a time and place to meet. Changmin actually had yet to visit this coffee shop in particular, but then again, he was a bit partial to the one Jacob introduced to the group last quarter.
Your words of advice, or caution, rang in his ears like the bell that twinkled above the door as he walked into the building. Be gentle with her. Donât be brash. Donât be mean. What did all of that even mean? He liked being interviewed, especially when it was about dance, so why would you think he would be anything but well-behaved? Part of him thought it was based off of the two of your interactions for the past three years, but he knew you had the good sense to know he didnât treat just anyone like he treated you.
The thought remained fresh in his mind even as he scanned the room for a familiar face.
Sumin was seated in a secluded booth in the corner of the coffee shop. When she saw him, she waved him over excitedly, slipping her compact into her purse. Her laptop was left on the table in front of her, but unopened. Huh, maybe she just got here, too.
Changmin slid into the booth across from her. âHi, sorry, were you waiting long?â He asked as he shouldered his jacket off and set his bag on top of it.
Sumin perked up a little bit. âOh, no! Donât worry. Did you have a good week?â
âAh, as good as the week before finals can be, I suppose,â he chuckled, leaning back against the booth seat. His eyes darted to the unopened laptop still in the middle of the table and he cupped the back of his neck. âDid you wanna order anything to drink? Or have you ordered already?â
She shook her head, her hand reaching up to fidget with the end of one of her curled locks of hair. âHm? No, I didnât order yet! I was waiting for you so we could order something togetherâI mean, at the same time.â
âCool, yeah,â he cleared his throat, signaling for one of the workersâ attention with a wave of his hand. âWe can order and then get started.â
âAh, ha, right.â
Once orders were taken, Sumin finally cracked open her laptop and got a couple things set up. Changmin patiently waited for her to get all settled, his eyes wandering about the shop and absentmindedly observing the workers behind the counter as they bustled about to prepare drinks and pastries.
Sumin coughed, âOkay, I figured that recording is a little unnecessary, so Iâll just be jotting some notes down on my laptop.â
Changmin bobbed his head. âSounds good.â
She shifted in her seat, her posture straightening, as she figured out how exactly to start. âI hope youâll be patient with me since I havenât been doing this for a long time, but Yn gave me some pointers to start with,â she said sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
âNo problem! I totally understand; take your time.â He cocked his head to the side unconsciously, âYn didnât offer to sit in for your interviews?â
âOh! Uh, she did, but I insisted that I was feeling confident enough to do them on my own,â she laughed lightly. âDefinitely a bit nerve-wracking, but I think the interviews with Juyeon and a few of the other dancers went well earlier in the week.â
âHey, I mean, I admire your courage,â he said with what he hoped was an encouraging enough smile. âJust take your time with it, Sumin. Weâll make sure to get you all the info you need.â There. Was that what you meant by not being mean? Wasnât this just being considerate, though?
His foot tapped against the ground absentmindedly as he thought about the next thing on his agenda after this interview: talking to you. It was weird, having to almost set an appointment to have this very needed talk, but as you had said, you texted him your availability and the two of you just happened to both have this evening free. He just needed to finish this interview⌠There was still plenty of time.
His words to Sumin seemed to make her shoulders relax a little bit, and she jumped right into her first question. Changmin would answer as thoughtfully as could, which wasnât too difficult seeing as he was literally talking about one of the things he was most passionate about in this world. He could probably talk about dance and his love for dance for days on end. Sumin, in turn, would skillfully and naturally continue the conversation so it felt a lot less like an interview, and more like an interaction between friends about dance.
Perhaps he didnât even realize when the questions became less about his experience about dance and more about him; when Sumin gradually stopped typing notes down on her laptop and instead leaned her chin onto her hands to watch him; or when she suddenly askedâ
âIs that your ideal first date then?â
Record scratch.
The words on Changminâs tongue died instantly, and his brain scrambled to process what she had just said. âSorry?â
Suminâs eyes widened, her cheeks flushing. âIâI mean, you were talking about going to see live dance shows with your former partner and I justâŚâ She shook her head with an embarrassed laugh, âSorry, was that too forward?â
Changmin blinked once, twice; dear god, he must have been running his mouth without even realizing. âI was talking about Yn?â
That ripped Sumin right out of embarrassmentâwell, it was closer to mortification. The color on her cheeks had turned pale. âYn is your ex?â
Fuckâ âNo, no, no! Sheâs not. Sheâs definitely notââ
Sumin covered her face with both of her palms in distress, a sentiment that was definitely shared between both parties in the booth. âOh my god, and Iâve been telling her all about my crush on you, too. I must have looked so stupid.â
His eyes flew open. âHuh?!â
âPlease, Iâve been so obvious, Changmin!â
Not to me, he thought. Jesus, was he really so blind? Was this what you meant this whole time? Changmin waved his hands around in an X formation, trying to reign the conversation into some level of sanity. âSumin, I can assure you, that you definitely werenât obvious until you literally just said it,â he began. âAnd so weâre clear, Yn is not my ex-girlfriend. She was my ex-dance partner and friend, but not a significant other.â As much as it sucked to admit thatâ
Sumin slowly lowered her hands from her face with the light reflected in her eyes wobbling. âOh⌠okay, I guess that makes sense then.â
Changmin let out a haggard sigh, holding his hand to his head. âYeah, well⌠I guess I should say that Iâm sorry, but I donât really share the same feelings for you?â He shook his head to himself, trying to rephrase: âWhat I mean is that Iâm not exactly looking for a relationship. Iâm kind of messed up right now.â Understatement of the century.
She pursed her lips, but nodded. âI get that. Thanks for being so cool about it.â
âLeast I can do,â he said, clasping his hands together over the table.
âSo,â she drawled with a wince, âI take it this interview is over?â
He brushed a hand through his hair. âIf you have everything you need and there are no hard feelings?â
She inclined her head in the affirmative, and that was that.
â âś
Even on a Friday evening, if it was the week before an exam season, the library study rooms were always packed, one occupier after the other. Attempting to score one was the equivalent of launching a stakeout, complete with charging cables, two cups of coffee, and a will of steel (to wait hours for a room to open up). Someone must have been looking out for you though as you managed to snatch a study room as soon as you arrived on the second floor of one of the main student libraries on campus. When you and Changmin had exchanged an, albeit brief, bit of texts, you both agreed that meeting somewhere that could serve as common ground would be good for the both of you. It had to be semi-private, as well, since neither of you wanted to let anyone else in on your private, personal problems.
The library study rooms were your solution, and maybe this was the universeâs sign that this discussion needed to happen.
As soon as the door closed gently behind you, you set yourself up in one of the chairs around the small, rectangular table at the center of the room. Changmin said he would be a couple minutes late because the bus had been late to pick up his stop and Chanhee was borrowing his car, so you texted him to let him know which room you were in.
While you waited, you attempted to ease your mind by scrolling through social media and flipping through emails and returning to social media, and wait, did you ever get a reply back from that one TA? All the while, your knee would bounce up and down ceaselessly, your fingers shaking and cold and numb. You were perhaps seconds away from your throat closing in on itself again, but then the door opened.
Changmin murmured a âheyâ to you as he closed the door behind him and lowered himself into the seat across from you.
The room was quiet. âHey,â you said back, clearing your throat.
You watched as his nostrils flared slightly as he exhaled. âWhat did you mean by âwhen did I stop caringâ?â
You were a little startled that he decided to start right away, but on the other hand, relieved that he did. You wouldnât have known how to begin anyway. âWhen did you stop caring?â You parroted in case you hadnât heard him right. If you werenât mistaken, he was referring to what you had said that night in front of the practice rooms.
He gave a nod. âYeah, I was thinking about what you saidâŚâ He scratched his jaw, continuing lowly, â...yâknow, on the bus ride over here. And I just donât understand where in the world you got the idea that I ever stopped caring about you.â He met your eyes then, and you could see the tightness in his jaw, but the gleam in his irises.
This wasn't about being right anymore; it was about making things right.
"Youâ" you grappled for words, finding yourself pinned down by Changmin's relentlessly piercing gaze, "âI just got so much radio silence from you."
"You were giving me the same excuses."
"Because it was the same, exact problem," you fired back. "And, okay, so they were excuses, but god, Changmin. I could just see how with each passing day, you looked at me differently because I was late or I told you I couldn't make it. Didn't I give you reasons why? Just that disappointment and cold shoulderâŚ" It broke my damn heart.
Changmin's arms were crossed over his chest as he considered your words, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. "I never," he began, "thought poorly of you, Yn." It sounded like he was struggling to piece together the right words, too, and he choked down a swallow. "I was going through a lot of shit around that time, and my patience was always paper thin by the time it was our usual practice time, y'know? It was never you specifically I was mad at."
He paused for a moment. His head hung, and he picked at a stray thread on his jacket cuff. "My parents said they wouldn't support me if I majored in dance."
Your heart stopped clean.
"They basically said I'd have to finance myself for all four years if I wanted to make dancing a career," he said with a flippant, helpless gesture. "I was given some scholarship money from the school, but it was nowhere near a full ride. So I was stressed the fuck out because I knew I needed to win those comps to get more money. They were cool with me dancing as, like, a hobby or a way to get into college, but as soon as I told them my intended major was dance?"
Well, shit.
Horror pooled in your gut, the kind that started up at your shoulders and spider-crawled down the length of your spine. "I'm so sorry, Changmin. That must have been so much pressure for you, oh my god."
This entire time, you'd been under the impression that his parents were fine and dandy with their son becoming a dancer. He'd always had a natural, prodigal talent for the art form. He was the absolute cream of the crop from your class, and you couldn't believe they could be anything but proud of having a son like him.
But you supposed you shouldn't have assumed. There was a cost to being a hypocrite.
Changmin nodded, but it wasn't very affirming. It was like he had heard it all before and had already accepted it all grimly and reluctantly. "Yeah, well⌠I won all those comps, but what did I lose in the process, y'know?"
He gestured to you. "I just thought I'd always have you to run back to, but you were going through your own stuff. I'm not trying to pin the blame on youâit's⌠just that⌠you were my best friend. My partner."
"It's funny you say that," you said then, drumming your fingers anxiously against your leg. "I thought I could rely on you, too. And I definitely drifted away from you, but it was because of my own reasons."
Changmin nodded, settling his hands on top of the table and leaning in slightly.
Still, every time you told someone, you could never get it right. But maybe you could get it right this time. "You know how my parents got divorced and I said that my mom had changed?"
His forehead creased then, and he nodded again.
"She started yelling a lot," you said. "Would always make me listen to her scream in my face about how dance was useless, how dance would never help me in the real world, how I was absolutely awful at it and that I should be focusing on something worth my time." You swallowed, continuing on, "And when I told you I couldn't make it or that I was late, it was because she started refusing to take me to practices and competitions and shows.
"And I meanâI tried really hard to keep going, Changmin, I really did." You raised your eyes to meet his and found him staring at you still, but this time you saw that glisten in his eyes again. The tension in his jaw had slackened, and had been replaced with that same dread you had while he was telling you what happened to him. "I thought that I could get past what my mom kept telling me, and that once I got to the practice roomâI just needed to get to the practice roomâit would all be worth it."
There was a stinging feeling in the back of your eyes, at your tear glands. Your vision was blurring and you blinked back the traitorous tears.
Changmin pursed his lips, his face contorting slightly as he too tried to contain the emotions welling up in him. "And then I shut you out."
"We shut each other out."
"Whyâ" he rasped, his hand coming up to cover part of his mouth, "âdidn't you tell me? I would'veâgod, I would'veâ" He didn't know, actually, but all he knew was that he would've been better. Would he have though? Truly? Would you have?
"I didn't like talking about it," you confessed, sniffling. You were ashamed of yourself, both then and now. You raised your hand up to wipe the corner of your eyes. "I'm sorry."
"No, fuck, don't apologize." He stood, arms opening and palms turning upward like an offering, "C'mere."
Both of you, teary-eyed messes, stumbled out of your chairs to close the distance in each other's arms. It was the feeling of finally holding each other after three years that made the two of you break down completely. The study room's quiet was filled with sounds of messy, blubbering sobsâhands grappling at the other's jacket, faces shoved into the warmth of a neck or shoulder.
Two pieces of a puzzle having finally been reunited.
This was where you belonged.
"This was all I wanted," you bawled into his shoulder.
It seemed to make his body tremble harder. "I would've given it to youâgod, I would've given you anything. I'm so goddamn sorry."
"Hey," you mused half-heartedly, "if I'm not allowed to apologize, then neither are you."
He gave a watery chuckle. "Okay, fine." His wet eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes and tightened his hold around you. "That must have been awful, Yn. How� Just how."
You rested your cheek against his toned shoulder. "Somehow⌠I don't really know. I'm proud of you, though, you know? I'm really proud of you."
"Thank you. I'm proud of you, too." He sniffled, mouth pressing against your shoulder. "All this time, I thought you hated dance and hated me."
"Oh, god no," you sniffled, sucking in a breath. "IâI knew I couldn't be strong anymore; I didn't want to disappoint you." And when you could no longer attend those practices, you had believed it would be better to not be there to drag him down. You thought that without having to wait on you every time, he would have been all the better. You see now that perhaps you were wrong in your logic.
For a moment, the two of you stood there in the other's arms as words settled and feelings sunk in. The realization that this tension between the two of you was possibly over now was crazy.
"For the record," Changmin murmured, "you're a great dancer. No matter what your mom told you, you'll always be a great dancer."
You laughed a little, shaking your head. "Not anymore, I'm not."
"That's where you're wrong." He pulled away from you and you saw the tears staining his dimpled cheeks, but the smile he was giving you was something out of a dream. He gently, playfully punched your arm. "You're still my partner, after all."
EPISODE ELEVEN: OFF THE SHELF
EVER since Changmin, Chanhee, JC!Yn, and her roommate Kei decided to change the weekly grocery shopping session to Saturday mornings, Changmin had never been so grateful for such a change until now. It used to be on Sunday mornings during the fall quarter because JC!Yn volunteered at the local childrenâs club on Saturday mornings, but since the Sunny Side Up Club had begun closing its doors on the weekend until summer break, her Saturdays had suddenly freed up.
Kei, as usual, had waltzed off in search of her own shopping list items, leaving JC!Yn and Changmin with the shopping cart of groceries and Chanhee sitting in the middle of it, cross-legged and swaddled in a pink hoodie.
âThatâs awful,â JC!Yn lamented as she slowly trailed after Changmin while pushing the cart. There was a frown etched into her face, as well as Chanheeâs, while and after Changmin had caught them up on the events of the previous dayâs talk with you. âI mean, I know some parents are super strict about their kids studying, butâŚâ She shook her head, âYouâve both been through a terrible amount of shit, man.â
Chanhee nodded his agreement, peering up at Changmin who was at the helm of the cart, staring at the label on a container of canned corn blankly. âYeah, for sure. Howâre you holding up, Changminnie?â
Changmin shrugged half-heartedly and rather mopey. âAs well as I could be.â
âWell, are you guys good now?â JC!Yn asked. âYâknow, after clearing all the air?â
Changmin made a face at the canned corn, but handed it to Chanhee to place amongst the other things in the cart with him. âI mean, kind of? Not really?â He scratched the side of his head, and his two friends looked on at him, then exchanged worried glances. Usually Changmin was the one cracking jokes, but to see him in such a state⌠âItâs just a little awkward now because weâve been on ice around each other for years. Going back to normal shouldnât be easy, should it?â
Chanhee pursed his lips, his head tilting from side to side. âThatâs true. When you guys were still in grudge era, you let all the angst between you do the talking.â
âAngst? I was not angsty, for your information.â
Both of his companions scoffed their disagreement. âEvery single time her name was brought up around you, you gazed far off like some kind of angsty main hero,â Chanhee retorted. âLike Kevin at that one dinner when we were interrogating Eric.â
JC!Yn laughed. âThat feels like so long ago.â
Changmin sent her a look, the corner of his lips tilting upward like the arch of his eyebrow. âThatâs because you and Jacob act like youâve been married for ten years.â
Her face heated at those words, but she held her chin up in pride. âIâm gonna pretend this is your jealousy talking.â
âOh, please,â he quipped back and turned back to the shelves to hunt for any other familiar labels that would trigger his hunger. âIf I wanted to be so grossly in loveââ
âThen youâd go find Yn?â
ââThen Iâd go find YâHEY!â Changmin sputtered as his cheeks lit up like the can of roasted red bell peppers in his hand. Chanhee and JC!Yn exploded into equal fits of delighted cackles, the former extending his arm back so the latter could return his fistbump. Changmin scowled through his flustered haze. âWhatever; taking advantage of my vulnerable state is not cool, guys.â
Chanhee beamed up at his best friend with the kind of smile that no one could be mad at. It was impish, adorable even. âAw, itâs only âcause we love you.â
âGross,â Changmin muttered, wrinkling his nose dramatically, then nudging his glasses up his nose.
As she stopped the cart behind Changmin, JC!Yn rested her arm against the bar and let her chin sit atop her fist as she and Chanhee watched Changmin scour the shelves again. âDidnât you say you had feelings for her back then, Changmin-ah? Would you say they were still present or not?â
He sucked in a breath at the question as he let the question marinate in his brain. After yesterdayâs world-altering talk with you, neither of you were able to stay too long afterward to catch up. Youâd both, unfortunately, been called to your own separate summons. But this morning, when Changin had woken up with the information having been properly processed in his brain and given him room to overthink as he did⌠Truthfully, he had no idea where the two of you stood with one another. It wasnât going to be the same, not like childhood and not like the past three years.
He didnât exactly know what to say to you now, only that there was still that emptiness in his chest. He hadnât expected the feeling to go away, but he also hadnât expected it to remain. What was he supposed to do? He was pretty sure you didnât even like him like that back then, so there was no way your feelings would have changed in that sense over the past three years. Some said that distance made the heart grow fonder, and while Changmin wasnât one for cliche lines, he did feel an ache for you. He wanted to make up for lost time. Even if you didnât feel the same way he had back then, it didnât mean that he still felt the same⌠right?
âI think we lost him,â came Chanheeâs very loud stage whisper.
Changmin shook out of his mind and leveled a glare at his two friends. âIâll think about it.â
âDidnât you just think about it?â
âHey, if JC!Yn-ie can take an entire quarter to tell Jacob-ssi her feelings, then you can give me like, five minutes to think about mine!â He squawked, waving his arms around in the air like one of those car-wash balloon people that flopped around in the wind. Except this one was high on emotions and his round lenses were slipping down his nose, adding to his overall mad man-like look.
JC!Yn deadpanned, shaking her head as she began pushing the cart after Changmin. She muttered under her breath, âHeâs just astounded that he has feelings for someone, JC!Yn. Let him be touchy today.â
Chanhee, who had heard her speak to herself loud and clear, twisted around to grin and pat her arm reassuringly. âHeâs just malfunctioning because he might actually have a chance now.â
âI can hear you!â
Chanhee chuckled, and the sound was villainous.
The three of them, as per routine, met up with Kei at the checkout lanes. There was one occasion where one of the workers was so tired that they tried to scan Chanhee and make them pay for him, but other than that, most people just offered him a sweet from the jar on the counter. As groceries were bagged up, and Kei was caught up on the situation at hand in verbal bullet point format, she took only a moment to suggest: âWhy donât you invite her to the dance showcase?â
All eyes went to Changmin, even as JC!Yn pushed the cart out with the group.
Changmin chewed his bottom lip. âI would, but... I dunno. I donât want to trigger anything for her.â He winced to himself, âIt would be really cool to have her there, of course! But I literally saw her in the practice room a week ago and she looked like she was seconds away from having a full-on panic attack.â As much as inviting you to watch him perform for the first time in three years thrilled him (and nearly sent him into cardiac arrest), he had seen you that dayâblanched, struggling to breathe. He couldnât imagine just what thoughts were running through your head then, especially after hearing what you had told him yesterday.
He was soâgod, he was so angry at your mother. He knew about the divorce and the negative effect it had on her, but for her to practically take all that energy out on you? It was something simply unforgivable. His heart hurt for you.
Chanhee dipped his head in a slight nod, mouth curved down into a frown again. "That's fair. But I mean, it wouldn't hurt to ask, would it?"
"I just don't want to come off as insensitive, especially after three years of the cold shoulder." Your words from yesterday had penetrated him deeplyâhe hoped to never make you feel abandoned ever again.
Kei peered around at Changmin from the other side of JC!Yn. "If it counts, I don't think she'll take it as being insensitive, Changmin."
"She might feel better about getting, y'know, a personal invitation from you," JC!Yn chimed in. "Even if she isn't comfortable with going, she'll know you're thinking of her."
Changmin pressed his knuckles to his lips, bouncing on the balls of his feet anxiously. It was amusing, and perhaps a little concerning, for his friends to see him like this. He flapped the ends of his sweater sleeves in the air like he was hyping himself up. "Okay. Okay, yeah, I'll invite her to see me perform."
He raised an arm into the air toward the sky. "The next time I see her, that's what I'llâ"
"Oh, look, she's right there," said Chanhee, pointing in the distance from his cart throne.
Changmin squeaked, "She's what?!" He slid behind JC!Yn in a very poor attempt to hide himself from the oncoming party.
Said party consisted of you, Yeri, Mark, and Tenâagain. Except, instead of the coffee shop across the shopping mall, it was the parking lot on his friends' turf. Mark and Yeri were the first to see Changmin's friend group, both of them making unsubtle glances at Changmin. They passed by with friendly greetings, excusing themselves as they argued over the possibility of the store having watermelon (the answer was no; sorry Mark).
You and Ten lagged behind slightly, seemingly deep in conversation. The latter listened intently, but he felt eyes on him and looked up. His eyes twinkled as he made eye contact with ChangminâChangmin couldn't tell whether or not he liked that feeling.
You realized that he was looking outward and onward, and so you followed his gaze. Your eyes widened a tad at the sight of Changmin's friend group manifesting out of nowhere. "Hi guys," you said with an awkward smile when you and Ten met them in the middle.
"Hi Yn-ie," Chanhee giggled, turning around to wag his eyebrows at Changmin.
Changmin threw back a very unimpressed scowl. He let a smile grace his face just as he looked back at you. "Hey Yn, Ten."
JC!Yn unsubtly began pushing the cart to uncover Changmin. "Hey, you two. Changmin was actually just talking about you, Yn!"
Traitor! Changmin's jaw dropped.
Ten grinned. "That's really funny, 'cause Yn was just talking about you, Changmin."
You glared daggers at your friend with the same level of betrayal in your eyes as Changmin expressed. At least you were both getting thrown under the bus.
Kei nudged him. "Don't you have something to say to her?"
"We'll get out of your hair!" Chanhee chirped, patting the side of the cart as JC!Yn resumed her pushing on the cart past you and Ten. "See you at the car, Changminnie!"
As Changmin's last line of defense walked away with JC!Yn and the shopping cart prince, Ten inclined his head to you. "Should I stick around for this?"
You sighed under your breath. "Probably not. I'll see you inside?"
"Whatever suits your fancy," he mused, shrugging. As he passed by Changmin, he winked, then whistled some random tune as he went on his merry way.
"So what's up?" You asked him then. It seemed to be a cozy morning for you as you fidgeted with the ends of your big, woolen sweater. There was something delicate about the way the corners of your lips curled up into a smile.
Changmin cupped the nape of his neck. "Oh, uh, I know we had that whole talk yesterday, and I was wondering if you'd wanna come see my performance at the winter showcase on Friday?" He added quickly, "No pressure, of course. If you're uncomfortable, then you don't have to worry."
Your lips pursed together in a slight pucker. "I'd actually love to go. I meanâ" you swallowed, "âI haven't gone to one since freshman year, but I'd love to."
"You can leave whenever you start feeling uncomfortable," he assured you, but he was smiling widely now. "It'll be cool to, y'know, have you in the audience."
"That means a lot, Changmin," you said earnestly, your smile sweet. It was almost weird to not have you frowning or glaring at him. It felt⌠good. It felt really good. âI will try my best.â
He shoved his hands into his pockets as he rocked on his heels, teeth biting down on his bottom lip to suppress the eager grin threatening to come out. âThatâs all I could ask for.â
EPISODE TWELVE: OFF THE CHARTS
YOU were late. You were extremely late, actually, and to be honest, if you had known the bus was going to break down in the middle of the stupid road, you would have gotten off and walked. But then again, you were practically buried in all of the bundles of flowers you wanted to bring for your friends performing tonight. There were four bundles in total that you bothered to pick out just about two hours ago, one for Minho, one for Jungwoo, one for Ten, and of course, you could not forget one for Changmin.
When Changmin had personally invited you to come see his performance tonight earlier in the week, you couldnât deny that the feeling made your chest warm and fuzzy. Even as you trudged your way up the stairs to the front of the performing arts building, you were filled with adrenaline and antsy energy. Youâd waited so long for this, hadnât you?
The last time you had come to see the winter showcase was in freshman year, the year the Daily asked you to write a review piece on one of the performers debuting that year, and even that had been enough of dance for the years following. It would be nice to know, this time, that you were wanted in the audience. (Changmin would have wanted you in the audience all this time, but you didnât know that.)
Because you were unquestionably late, the doors to the hall would be closed shut now.
That was why having a friend like Boo Seungkwan was paramount.
âThank you,â you gasped as one of the doors to the performance hall burst open and allowed you into the warmth of the lobby. You could hear the bass of whatever song was on and the audienceâs cheers from here.
Seungkwan swept half of the bouquets from your arms with a click of his tongue. âYah, youâre insane for taking the bus all the time. Yeri even asked to pick you up!â
âI know, I know!â You cried, the two of you scurrying over to one of the doors in the hall. âI panicked at the last second to get flowers and then I had to go all the way to the shop on fifth! By the way, did you know theyâre open until 11?â
Both of your voices quieted as you slipped into the darkened auditorium. The stage was the only part illuminated in blinding, searing hot spotlights. You had just walked in on a brief break between acts as performers switched on and off stage. Seungkwan led you to one of the rows of seats in the nosebleeds that was relatively in the middle.
All of your friends practically occupied the entire row, and they lit up in delight at the sight of you.
âYo Yn!â Mark whispered as he leaned over Yeri. âYouâre actually here!â
Yeri reached over to squeeze your hand as you took the open seat next to her, and Seungkwan took the last seat in the aisle. âIâm so happy youâre here, Yn-ie.â
Doyoung and Kun peered out from around Mark, and you recognized a couple others from the NCT frat and RVE sorority further down the row. âHey guys,â you said quietly to them as you wrangled your purse into your lap and adjusted the flowers in your arms, âhow much did I miss?â
âNot much at all," Doyoung replied. "It's just been a few of the first years."
"We've got a little while until the older batch," Kun said with a wave of the program in his hands.
You nodded your understanding and settled into your seat to get comfortable. The performances went on one after the other. There was a mix of all different genres, ranging from contemporary ballet to tap and popping. Because everyone in the final winter showcase were in some kind of dance course on campus, a lot of the acts displayed a ton of experience already, even as first-years.
The longer the night went on, the less you believed your antsiness was a result of a nervous tick, but rather the bottled up adrenaline building up from watching all the performances. At some point, you realized you weren't even analyzing the performances anymore, but rather, sitting in awe of each one.
When a brief intermission was announced, Yeri and one of her sorority sisters squeezed past to head to the restroom while a few others from the row headed out to stretch their limbs and find some other friends. You and Seungkwan lingered in your seats, discussing your favorite performances so far, as well as how your finals weeks had gone for each of you.
"I'm just so glad we have spring break now," he groaned, his head hanging with exhaustion. "I might have skipped tonight if that meant I could sleep early."
"You would have regretted it though," you pointed out to him.
He gestured with his hand. "Right, you are." He let out a sigh as he raised his head and met your smile with a tired one of his own. "Well, Yn, you did it. You're watching your first full winter showcase. How do you feel?"
Your gaze flickered back to the stage. The house lights had come on for intermission, leaving the stage drenched in darkness. You could have sworn you saw the heavy red curtains shudder as if someone had poked their head out to view the audience. You remembered when you and Changmin used to do that when you were kids.
You turned back to Seungkwan. "I feel surprisingly okay," you confessed. "I was a little nervous before, but I think that I'm doing good."
He nodded. "Good. I'm glad you're here."
"Thanks, Kwan." You exhaled. "I didn't fully realize how long this was gonna be," you mused.
Seungkwan raised a brow at you. "Well, didn't you only stay for like, Changmin's performance last time you were here?"
"Well, yeahâ"
The house lights suddenly shuttered off, and people rushed back to their seats. Your friends who were coming back squeezed past you and Seungkwan, effectively cutting off your conversation from before. The last half of the night would be handed over to the students who were majoring in dance and had been a part of the program for over two years.
You were properly in awe of the next performances. They had decided to put Ten out first, dancing to a song called Baby Don't Stop. He had mentioned the song to you once, but you hadn't really thought much about it until now. It was a side of Ten you hadn't seen yet since you had never seen him dance properly, but⌠you were definitely going to need to gush about this to him afterward.
You were pretty sure the crowd didn't quiet down for five performers in a row, as crazy-talented dancers such as Minho and Jungwoo followed after.
Each performance was incomparable to the next, and soon, you were sucking in a breath to the sound of Changmin's name being announced.
You slapped your hands onto Seungkwan's and Yeri's on either side of you, both of whom squeezed and shook your hands back as the curtain rose.
The lighting began a deep, electric purple, painting Changmin to look like a dark silhouette on stage. You almost couldn't make out the details of his white and black suit-like uniform. It was dynamic and unique with the suit cut outs and gloves, and he paired it all with an eye look that made his eyes feel darker and smokier.
He was still at firstâuntil a set of horns, like trumpets, blared from the speaker's and he began striding forward.
You heard Mark gasp from two seats over. "Holy shit, he's dancing to Action Figure."
You vaguely recognized the title, but if you were thinking of the right song, then the room was about to get a lot louder. Unconsciously, you squeezed Seungkwan and Yeri's hands as you leaned forward and lingered on the edge of your seat.
The performance was everything you expected and more. Changmin was, as you had expressed before, the absolute cream of the crop. Each movement was brought with sharp precision, like the blade of a knife. Even during the slower bridge portion, he somehow executed the legato-like movements with a crispness of 4K HDR quality.
Everyone in the room held their breath (or screamed it out) with each sultry gaze, each lick of his lips, each smirkâa great dancer, a great performer; he would forever be one of the greats. That, you were very certain of.
When the song came to an end and he raised his head to peer at the audience through his bangs, you and everyone else erupted into applause, whistles, yellingâall the works. Your heart palpitated so hard in your chest that you thought it was trying to mimic his own dance. You were practically shaking from all of the bottled energy, andâŚ
"Wow," you breathed out as you leaned back in your seat as the stage was reset for the next act. Your knee began bouncing fervently, sending the flowers in your lap up and down as well.
Seungkwan murmured his agreement, "Whew. I can't tell if I'm attracted or intimidated."
You snorted, patting his hand with your palm. "Both?"
"Probably."
You laughed, your hand lifting up to absentmindedly press against the base of your throat and sternum.
You couldn't help but think about what Changmin had revealed to you that day. How could a pair of parents not be absolutely floored to have a son as talented as Ji Changmin? It was so unbelievable to you, but you couldn't imagine how it might have felt to suddenly have all that support be ripped out from beneath your feet like his support had been.
The performances following would finish off those of the solo category. Afterwards, a handful of groups performed, including repeats of a few performers. Minho and Jungwoo had performed a stage together (Finesse, if you weren't mistaken), while Changmin and Juyeon made a return to the stage with another sultry hit by the name of Light a Flame.
By the end of the night, you were eager to head backstage to see your friends who had just performed their hearts out.
Plus, the bouquets were wilting.
Once the house lights had thunked to life, and the crowd was beginning to lessen, the row you were seated in with your friends stood together. Some of them were going to head straight home, but a few others planned to stay back to congratulate the performers on a night well done.
"You guys ready to head back?" Mark asked while nodding toward the stage with his hands shoved into the pockets of his puffer vest.
The high you were on was gradually fading out, and you had to clear your throat. "Can I meet you guys back there? I think I'm gonna take a quick breather and then just go in through the backdoor."
They were more than okay with accommodating you, encouraging you to take as long as you needed. Mark and Yeri both took the remaining two bouquets from your arms as Seungkwan ushered you out the door to take that breather.
As you hit the cool, early-March air, you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself and inhaled deeply. All around you, people lingered and chatted with each other, gushing about their favorite performances and reenacting the most memorable parts. You smiled to yourself when you overheard a group of boys near you talking about Changmin's tasteful choice in music, as well as the cohesion of his entire performance, ranging from not only the music choice, but down to the costuming as well. (And the choreography, of course. Everything about his performance, as emphasized, was breathtaking.)
With a sigh, you began rounding the building toward the back entrance.
Now that you had the space to deconstruct your thoughts, you realized that although you felt an indescribable amount of pride for your friends, you couldn't help the pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. In a way, you envied the performers onstage. You wished you had held on a little longer; maybe then, you could have been one of the people on stage tonight like you had wanted when you were just a teen.
When you reached the back door, you managed to gather your strength and let yourself in.
Like that day you had taken Sumin backstage, it was all hustle and bustle, but ten times that. Pandemonium erupted as performers raced past you left and right trying to find their friends, fellow performers, and even the location of their hairspray. (They should have put their name on it, you thought cheekily, but even then, it might not have worked still, you supposed.)
You kept your arms crossed over your chest as you squeezed past people toward where you were hoping to find your friends. As you walked into the dressing room corridor, you nearly collided with a silky dress shirt.
"Yn! I can't believe I found you," Ten chuckled.
You laughed, wrapping your arms around him in an affectionate embrace. "Ten! I can't believe you found me either. It's a madhouse here." You scanned the faces and bodies buzzing about for any sign of your friends. "Have Mark, Yeri, or Seungkwan found you yet? They have the flowers I was gonna give you."
Ten's lips curled up into a smile as he pressed a hand to his chest. "Gasp, you got me flowers?"
"Yes, and please never say 'gasp' aloud ever again," you winced.
That only made his smile grow. "No promises. But what'd you think of the show tonight? I'm glad you stayed the whole time."
"It was incredible! You were incredible," you amended with your eyes likely the shape of stars. "Who gave you the absolute audacity to be so talented, sir! I swear I heard some girl faint a couple rows behind me," you joked.
His eyes narrowed into sly, little crescents. "Oh? And did you faint for mine, too? Or did you save that reaction for another special someone?"
You flushed, your eyes averting to anywhere but the nosy feline before you.
Ten threw his head back in a loud guffaw. "Okay, okay. I see how it is. He's been looking for you, by the way."
Your eyes went wide. "And you wait until now to tell me?"
"I wanted my dose of Yn affection, too," he shrugged, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Plus, the look on your face was well worth it."
"Sometimes I hate you."
"Some is not all," he pointed out.
"âyou said she was over here? Yn!"
Yours and Ten's heads turned and you watched as Changmin's eyes found yours in the crowded room. He began pushing his way toward you, sweat still dampening the strands of hair and falling into the collar of the dark blazer he wore for Light a Flame.
Ten snickered under his breath. "Well, I'm gonna go find Mark to get my flowers. Text me later, 'kay? Okay!"
Before you could blink, Ten had disappeared into the masses. You swore that man was so slippery sometimes.
You glanced back in the direction that you saw Changmin coming from,but when you couldn't find him, you frowned. It really was awfully hard to find people in hereâŚ
"Boo!"
You swore your soul left your body for five seconds. You whirled around, glaring daggers at the impish squirrel man who somehow ended up behind you. "You're such a menace."
Changmin grinned so wide it looked like even his dimples were strained. "Sorry," he wheezed, not sounding sorry at all. "The opportunity presented itself on a gold-plated platter."
"You should feel very lucky that I wasn't holding lemonade this time."
"Okay, but why were you drinking that without a cap on the cup? Did they not give you a plastic lid or something?"
You felt the corner of your mouth lift. How was it so easy to recall these things? "It's just the universe telling you to end your pranks."
He shrugged helplessly. "I can't help that you are so easy to sneak up on."
"You're gonna say that when I somehow heard you asking if I was in here from across the room?"
"That's because I let you hear that; there's a difference," he said, leaning against the corridor wall next to you. He looked you up and down, tongue darting out for a moment. "Thanks for coming tonight."
You leaned your shoulder against the wall next to him. "I enjoyed myself," you said in reply. "You did really well tonight though, Changmin. It was a great performance."
He grinned, and his tongue had to poke the inside of his cheek. "Just great?"
You raised your eyebrows at him and decided to bypass that question for the moment. "Did my friends give you your flowers?"
Changmin showed his empty hands and you deadpanned.
"What?" He giggled. "I'm just stating the obvious."
"You're so infuriating sometimes."
He gently bumped your shoulder with his. "Nothing new."
Nothing new, indeed. It was strange, actually, falling into this kind of easygoing, light-hearted banter. You'd seen how easy it was that night in the lab, but this was nice, you had to admit. Banter and arguing were two different things, you learned, and the latter always took such a toll on those involved.
How did the two of you stay away for so long? Maybe you were both too prideful, too afraid to break the ice.
Changmin's expression sobered a little as he observed your expression. "What're you thinking about?"
You blinked, glancing over at him. "Nothing, justâŚ" Your voice lowered to something like a whisper, "I missed this." I missed you.
And as you met his eyes again, you knew that he had heard you. He swallowed, roughly. "Me too."
EPISODE THIRTEEN: OFF THE CUFF
THE quad was in bloom with the coming of spring and spring break. It was tradition at your university to take pictures and to take a stroll through the freshly bloomed cherry blossom trees lining the rectangular lawn. Only in spring did the trees reveal their beautiful, baby pink flowers, so it was optimal to go frolic amongst them while they were full.
Changmin had been dragged out by Chanhee. Well, he liked to say that Chanhee forced him outside, but in reality, Changmin had put just as much effort into his appearance today as Chanhee did, just not as formal. And luckily, it wasn't just the two best friends who were out with them among the crowd of people, but also the entirety of their friend groupâplus the significant others, too.
"I hate this more than Valentine's Day," Sunwoo grumbled as he blew a curl out of his eyes. He was referring to the couples all around them taking pictures and holding hands and kissing.
"You're telling me," Kevin sighed as he messed with the settings on his camera for the pictures he wanted to take of the scenery. "At least on Valentine's Day, people won't photobomb you."
Sangyeon had his phone out and was already taking photos of the blooming flowers around him and in the trees. He suddenly turned his phone around, set at point five zoom. "Hey guys, look here and smile!"
Everyone in the shot (all the singles: Chanhee, Changmin, Sunwoo, Kevin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae) slapped smiles onto their faces. As soon as Sangyeon put the phone down, their smiles dropped.
"Who was that for?" Juyeon asked as he slung an arm around Sangyeon's shoulder to peer at the eldest's phone screen. He made a groaning noise before peeling away. "Ahhhh, 'The Girlfriend'. I see."
Sangyeon cocked a brow at him. "Have you finally accepted that I have a girlfriend?"
"Nope."
Sangyeon's eyes looked up and away in exasperation, before he shook his head and returned to doing whatever he was doing.
Changmin surveyed the crowded quad with disinterest. He scanned all of the faces present around him; too many to count that was for sure. Jacob and JC!Yn had separated from them almost immediately; Eric and his girlfriend were off being cute or something; Younghoon and his partner hadn't even traveled here with most of them; but at least Haknyeon and his significant other stayed with them for the first five minutes to make conversation about the dance showcase a few nights ago.
He sighed. That was how long ago it had been since he last saw you. (My god, he sounded like some kind of lovesick teenager, waiting by the landline for his lover to ring him upâ)
On the other side of the quad, you and your friends had just arrived to do the same exact thing Changmin's friends were. But as soon as you saw the crowd, you were five seconds from simply giving up.
"We'd get like, one flower, and that's it," Seungkwan argued to Yeri who was trudging forward despite the load of people around.
Yeri huffed. "Not if you don't try, Boo Seungkwan."
He made a noise of disgruntlement, his head lifting up and nostrils flaring. "Oh my godâ"
"Yn, my wife, defend my honor!"
You snapped up straight, tuning back into the conversation. Mark and Jungwoo trailed somewhere behind the three of you and if you weren't careful, you'd lose them, too. "Huh? Oh, well, SeungkwanâŚ" Your voice trailed off, and your eyes wandered to a specific gathering of trees further down the lawn from where you currently were.
It was unfair how he was framed like a K-Drama shot: the slow motion pink petals drifting around him, his lithe body gracefully leaning against the dark bark of the cherry blossom tree, the green sweater vest layered over a white shirt and pants. You gulpedâhe looked way too pretty to just be standing thereâ
"âhello? Earth to Yn?" A hand was waving in front of your face and someone was poking your shoulder.
You shook away from them, eyes wide like a child with your hand caught in the cookie jar. "Huh?"
Seungkwan and Yeri sent you curious looks. "You were staring at Changmin," said Yeri, arms crossing over her chest.
Seungkwan let out a dramatically wistful, little sigh as he scratched the side of his head. "You're so lucky that Ten's not here; we are so very merciful compared to him."
You rolled your eyes, even though they were right. "I wasn't staring! I justâI couldn't tell if it was really him or not."
"Because I'm just so breathtakingly beautiful?"
"Definitely nâwhat the fuck," you yelped, nearly leaping out of your skin again at the right of Changmin's dimpled smile as he seemingly appeared out of thin air right next to you.
Changmin erupted into howling laughter, folding over onto his knees as he slapped his leg once, twiceâ
"You're not even that funny," you grumbled, side-eyeing both him and your friends. (Guess you really did lose Mark and JungwooâŚ)
Seungkwan and Yeri did not hide their own laughs very well, but they definitely weren't knee-slapping themselves.
"How'd you even cover so much ground that fast?" You queried, whirling back on Changmin.
He lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, his hands resting in the pockets of pants as he stood in a relaxed posture. His skin was unfairly pretty in this lighting, like his smile. "I harnessed my inner squirrel."
"You mean your inner furry?"
Seungkwan and Yeri chose this moment to slip away, calling out something like "we're just gonna go walk a tree" before bowing out. Changmin feigned an expression of offense, pressing a hand to his chest. "Rude! It's called athleticism."
You wrinkled your nose. "Like you know what athleticism is."
"I'll race you to the stairs over there right nowâHEY, CHEATER! I DIDN'T SAY GOâ" Despite his indignant squawk, Changmin's cheeks hurt from how hard he grinned as he raced after you toward the stairs at the other end of the lawn.
â âś
"So⌠no Ten today?"
After a daring race, you and Changmin settled on top of the stairs overlooking the entire lawn. The sun hung at golden hour position and painted the landscape and people below in beautiful, buttery gold wash. You even swore you saw Chanhee chasing after Sunwoo with a handful of loose cherry blossom petals, no doubt to dump into the latter's hair.
You looked over to where Changmin was leaning back onto his palms next to you. "This again?"
He pursed his lips. "Well, I mean," he drawled, "you guys are pretty close. I just figured you'd do this kind of thing together."
"That's fair," you conceded. "Uh, he's actually on a trip with a couple of his frat brothers this week. Something like backpacking in Switzerland."
Changmin gave an indulgent nod of his head. "Wow. Switzerland."
"I know, right?"
He peered out into the distance, eyes squinting against the strength of the sun, but he looked like an art piece nonetheless. âYou and Ten arenât, like, together? Are you?â
You tilted your head to the side. Interesting question. âNo, weâre friends. I think in the beginning it might have felt like something on that level, but weâve bothâI think weâre both on the same page where we stand with each other.â You didnât know why you were telling him so much; heâd only asked you a question. But speaking of being together with someone⌠You coughed, âSumin told me what happened during the interview a couple weeks ago.â
Changmin smiled sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. âOh, ha, she did? I guess I shouldnât be too surprised.â
âYou really didnât know?â
âThat she liked me? No,â he laughed with a shake of his head. He leaned forward onto his knees then, turning his head to the side to look at you with his fingers laced over his knees. âWho do you take me for, hm? I couldnât just assume she had a crush on me.â
You feigned a look of disagreement, and he gasped, shoving your upper arm playfully. âIâm not that bad!â He exclaimed.
âYou could be that bad,â you teased.
You watched as his expression cooled and the air around the two of you shifted. There was an earnestness in his eyes now, emphasized by the brilliance of the setting sun reflecting across his smooth lines of his face. âHave you ever thought about, you know, like trying to dance again?â
You werenât sure what prompted this change in subject, but you gave it a thought. âI definitely have,â you said honestly, âI just canât really step into a practice room without getting nervous.â You picked at a stray thread on your pants as you spoke and felt his gaze on you. âThat nightâthe one when you saw me in front of the performing arts hall really late at nightâI was trying to get myself to go in. To at least⌠try, yâknow. Maybe prove to myself that I could work up the courage to go in, but I couldnât.â
Changmin was quiet for a moment. His knees angled themselves toward you, and he leaned forward so his chest practically laid over his legs. âI said a lot of bad things to you in senior year,â he said lowly. âThey were stupidâI was stupid. Andâand if your anxiety with practice rooms comes from me, thenââ
âChangmin,â you interrupted and captured his attention. You shifted to mimic his body positioning, so your eyes were level and you were both just as small as the other. âI said really shitty things to you, too.â
âI told you that you should quit,â he rasped. He had to turn his head so you wouldnât see the silver pooling in his eyes. âIâm sorry, Yn; I didnât mean it. I didnât mean any of it.â
You heard his sniffle over all of the chatter from the lawn below and you moved closer to him until your legs and arms were pressed together. You wrapped an arm around him, only for him to raise himself up and practically drape himself over you, his arms looped around your upper body and his face tucked into the side of your neck. Your heart tripped over itself in surprise, but you let yourself lean into his body heat.
âIâm sorry, too. I know you didnât mean any of it. I didnât mean any of what I said either.â You breathed for a moment and sighed, simply allowing him to stay in your arms for however long he needed. âI think,â you started, âeven after three years, I still blame myself for letting all of that get to me. Sometimes, I want to go back in time and slap some sense into myself; maybe tell myself that I shouldnât have let what my mom said bury itself so deep inside me. I mean⌠where would I be now had I not listened to her?â
Changmin pulled away then, resting his forearms on his legs again, but he didnât back away from you. âYou were just a kid, Yn. You canât blame yourself.â
You rested your cheek against your fist. âI know. Itâs hard not to, though.â
âI know.â He took another look at you, and you felt his eyes really take you in for a moment. The corner of his lips lifted. âAre you happy?â
âWith?â
âWith how you turned out? Where you ended up?â
You held your breath. It was a good question, and as you turned to search yourself inwardly, you came to a couple of conclusions. âIn a way, I am. Itâs probably just bitterness and regret I feel when I wonder what could have been, but maybe things happen for a reason.â
He nodded, his hand reaching up to pick out a stray leaf that had fallen into your hair. âWe can always make up for lost time now,â he said. âWe never did get to finish that duet.â
EPISODE FOURTEEN: [GET] OFF THE GROUND
THE next day, you found yourself standing outside the back door to the performing arts building. Because it was spring break, a large helping of the student population had abandoned campus as soon as their finals were over, leaving the place barren except for the area with the cherry blossoms. You stood next to Changmin, the latter holding his bag by the strap over his shoulder. You had been staring at the door for more than a minute now, trying to slow the palpitations of your heart.
âWe can leave whenever you want to,â he murmured to you, the back of his hand nudging yours. âLetâs just try.â
You got yourself to nod.
The hallways were uncharacteristically quiet compared to the previous couple of times you had been back here. Since there was no one else here, you and Changmin got to pick whichever practice room you wanted. The largest one was the winner, and the lights flickered on to wash the shadows away. You immediately moved to one side of the room to set your things down, and Changmin went to his corner by the speaker. He was already hooking up his phone to the aux cord, but kept one eagle-eye on you as you inhaled the sight of the empty room around you.
As usual, your throat began closing in on itself, and you coaxed yourself into taking deep breaths.
You started out on the floor in front of the mirror, your legs crossed over each other and Changminâs phone in your hands. Changmin had shouldered off his white athletic jacket, and began stretching as you swiped through the selection of music on his phone. The two of you collectively agreed for you to start off just watching. Once you were comfortable in the practice room environment, and if you wanted to dance, you would join him whenever you were ready. If you were never ready, then you could continue to just watch him and cheer him on during the practice.
You watched him card a hand through his hair as he peered at himself in the mirror behind you. âI always thought this mirror made you vain,â you chuckled, your hand having settled into your lap instead of at the base of your throat.
He furrowed his brows at you. His hands rested on his hips, the muscle in his forearms emboldening from the action. âRude. I think you were the one who made me vain.â
âThe fuck? How so?â You challenged.
âYou always said you admired my facial expressions and my pretty smile,â he grinned at your reaction, snickering to himself. âDid you pick a song yet?â
You watched him dance. For the first few songs that played on shuffle, he was simply warming up his body and freestyling to whatever he heard. You knew Changmin was no stranger to people watching him dance, but there was something still so intimate about watching him in this space. You could watch him create things like magic, as well as watch him fumble and laugh at his own misgivings. Except, instead of doing it all by himself, his eyes would find yours and smile.
Next quarter, Changmin was supposedly signed on to be a TA for one of the dance courses, so he asked for your opinion on a few of his ideas for choreographies he could teach.
After showing you his second idea, he gestured to you then looked back at himself in the mirror. âWhat do you think? Iâm not sure if writing something for each nuance in the beat would be a bit too much or if itâs something that should be used as a challenge routine.â
You hummed in understanding. âWell, if itâs an intermediate dance course, then I think it could be worked up to. Are these people dance majors or⌠maybe minoring in dance?â
He nodded when you said the latter. âSupposedly, they arenât necessarily dance majors. But yeah, I agreeâit could probably be brought out later in the quarter instead.â He made a motion with his hand as he backpedaled a couple steps to give himself more room between you and him. âCould you rewind to the first verse again? I wanna see something.â
You obliged him and rewinded the song to his desired timestamp. He tried out another possible set of choreo, but ended up stopping halfway through the chorus.
Again and again, you rewinded the song for him to try something new, but each time, he was met with his own dissatisfaction.
You suddenly stood, setting his phone on the ground with the song having been rewinded just slightly before the intended timestamp. Your hands were shaky and your heart was probably beating at an unhealthy speed, but you needed to try out something.
Changminâs eyes opened wide as you came to stand next to him, but he said nothing. Instead, he let you loosely show him what you had concocted in your head while watching him go through trial after trial.
Before you knew what was happening, the two of you were weaving your ideas together, taking pieces of his original choreography and amending it with yours. You had watched him from the beginning so many times that you didnât need long to pick up on the rest. By the end, the two of you had danced the entirety of the song together, your chest rising and falling fast with the speed of your breath.
Changmin released an exclamatory yell, thrusting his fist to the ceiling, then clasping your hand with his. âLetâs go! I really like that, Yn,â he said with his face split by a shit-eating grin.
Your heart was bursting again, not with nerves, but something you hadnât felt in a long, long time. You brushed the hair from your eyes, a satisfied beam set on your face. âI like it, too.â
There was a sheen akin to pride in his eyes. âI wanna show you something,â he said, walking over to his phone with a skip in his step. âStay there! I wanna teach you this bit of choreo thatâs been living in my head for a while now.â
And so, you followed Changminâs instructions as he put on a groovy-type beat. The routine was simple enoughâlooks-wise. But if you knew anything about the things Changmin choreographed, the difficulty was all in the subtlety and technique. When you were younger, the appeal between you and Changmin as partners were that you were practically foils for each other. While Changmin ruled the arena of sharp, focused isolations and movements, your area of expertise laid in bigger, fuller movements like that of a brushstroke. When you had watched Juyeon and Changminâs performance during the winter showcase, you supposed that was why they were able to complement each other well. It was essentially what you and Changmin were, in combination.
The longer you and Changmin danced, the more your chest filled with air and warmth and love and happiness. The guilt and fear from before had melted away to reveal this suppressed portion of you that had been hidden for a long time.
At some point, the two of you were just messing around, and ended up sprawled on the polished wood floor of the practice room clutching your stomachs while choking on laughter.
Changmin rolled onto his side, eyes still squinted in delight as he tried to get a grip of his breathing. âIs your back okay?â He managed to wheeze between gasps and howls.
You wiped a tear that crept out from your eye. âNo! I just tried carrying a fifty-something-kg man on my back. Do you think Iâm okay?â
âIn my defense,â he said, peering down at you as he rose into a sitting position and leaned back onto his palms, âyou claimed you were stronger than me and could be the base.â
âA warning would have been nice!â You exclaimed. You rolled onto your stomach, laying your chin over your arms. âNo one in their right mind just jumpscares people like that.â
âHave you met me?â
âFair enough.â
A remnant of that merriment remained on his lips as he felt around the floor around him for where his phone had fallen out of his pants pocket. He caught a glimpse of the time, sighing, then raking a hand through his hair. âItâs already one oâclock. Are you hungry? Wanna get lunch or something?â
âSure, what do you feel like?â You asked, eyes following his movements as he clambered up to his feet and tucked his phone back into his pocket.
He pressed his lips together in thought, humming, âDunno. Fast food maybe?â
You rolled into a sitting position, similar to the one he had been in just moments before. âOkay.â
âCome on; letâs get up then.â He offered a hand out to you, and you clasped his forearm tightly.
In one fell motion, Changmin swept you upright and to your feetâbut he used a little too much pulling force, and you were stumbling into him, palms pressed flat against his chest, and his arms coming around your waist. You held your breath as the two of you fought to stabilize the other.
âShit, sorry about that,â he muttered from above you with a low chuckle.
You opened your mouth to reply, but as you raised your head to meet his eyes and not just his Adamâs apple, you lost all your breath. There was barely a hairsbreadth distance between your face and his. Changmin came to the same determination as you had and his eyes went wide.
A curious thing happened. His pupils dilated, and his eyes darted down to your mouth and his tongue swiped over his own to dampen them.
Your breath as you exhaled was as unsteady as your heart rate.
You felt his hold on your tighten slightly; his Adamâs apple bobbed. And then he was leaning forward, his eyes fluttering closedâ
He kissed you then.
His lips were soft over your own with the slightest bit of pressure, nose nudging the side of your cheek.
Your hands moved up the plane of his chest to grasp his toned shoulders; he shifted his left hand to cradle the back of your head.
Wait, what is happeningâ
You both pulled away, as if the same thought had echoed through both of your heads at the same time.
Panic leapt into the two of you and you jolted away when the distinct sound of Boss by some group called Neo Culture Technology blasted throughout the quiet practice room.
"Fuck," you swore. You glanced back at Changmin and saw the question, the uncertainty, theâyou couldn't even tell. Your mind was everywhere and nowhere at once. You could still feel his mouth on yours. "Thatâthat's Doyoung's ringtone. I have to take this."
"Okay," he whispered inaudibly, and you slipped out from his hold.
With your back to him, he rubbed his hands down his face and an indescribable emotion seized his chest. He rubbed a thumb over his lipsâŚ
"Doyoung, you need to calm down," you said as Doyoung's voice quite literally rambled at lightspeed into your ear.
You heard your friend take one deep breath, then repeat, "I think one of these final draft files are corrupted. I'm freaking the fuck out right now, and I know you're not out of town, so if you could pleaseâfor the sake of my sanityâcome to the office and help me!" He was pleading, begging, and Kim Doyoung did not beg. He sounded like one hair-pull from dropping down to his knees.
In any other context, you would have wanted to record this for the history books. Any other context.
Your eyes darted over to Changmin who was still standing in the middle of the room, hands tucked into his pockets, and gaze pinned to you.
You couldn't justâleave? Could you? Not after thatâ
Then you caught Changmin nodding his head in the direction of the door, his head cocking to the side in silent question. Do you need to go? He mouthed.
You pursed your lips with a reluctant nod. Something's wrong with the paper.
Then go. We'll talk after.
Talk. Yup. You started grabbing your things and you squeezed your phone between your ear and shoulder. "âokay okay, Doyoung. Can you stop wasting your energy for me, and tell me exactly what the screen is telling you?"
You began making your way to the door, but halted in the doorway. You hesitated, turning back to look at Changmin. You really shouldn't leaveâbut you had to.
"Yn."
You grabbed your phone and pressed the speaker into your shoulder. "Yes?" It sounded breathless.
Desperation gleamed like silver in his eyes. One did not often see that emotion from Ji Changmin. "Don't shut me out."
EPISODE FIFTEEN: OFF THE BOOKS
THE first person that came to mind was Choi Chanhee. "Whatâ"
"I kissed her!" Changmin blurted, hand slapping over his mouth.
"You what?!"
â âś
You were breathless, brain muddled, a hot mess of a shitshow, when you got to the Daily. The rest of the Board members were on break, including your resident tech expert, so you had assured Doyoung that you were free if he needed anything. (If you weren't deeply regretting that now though.)
You had fast walked all the way from the performing arts center to the Daily's newsroom, effectively cutting travel time down from ten minutes to seven, even with your bag of items. Though, it definitely didn't help your headspace. You could hardly think about Changmin, the kiss, and a corrupted file all at the same time. Not to mention, you finally managed to wrangle Doyoung off the phone with you so he could go splash water on his face to calm the fuck down.
The newsroom was dark when you got there, but you saw the light from Doyoung's office shining down the corridor. He was seated behind his desk, his expression a lot more calm than he sounded from the phone, but his face and bangs were a bit damp, meaning he had actually gone to wash his face. Good.
He saw you trudging down the hall, your baby hairs flying everywhere, and your breath coming out in pants. He noticed the bag slung over your shoulder and had the nerve to ask, "Oh, were you on the way somewhere?"
You sent him a pained stare and collapsed into the chair on the opposite side of his desk.
"You look stressed."
"Changmin and I kissed."
Doyoung's eyes nearly fell out of his head and his body was half an inch from falling out of his chair. "HUH?"
Your head craned back against the back of the chair. "I know."
"Girl, why are you here then?"
"You said it was an emergency!" You cried, straightening. You didn't even acknowledge the fact that Doyoung had just called you "girl". "Now, let's work this file situation out."
Doyoung moved his laptop further away from you. "Oh, nuh-uh, Missy. You're gonna just send me your copy, and then you're gonna go on your merry way back to Mr. Dancer Man and kiss him again."
Your face scrunched up. "Hello?" What was in the sink water in this buildingâŚ
"Did you talk about it? Are you two dating now?"
"Doyoung," you whined, scrubbing a hand over your face, "you literally called right after we kissed."
Doyoung made a noise of disappointment. "Damn, I'm never gonna live this down."
"Seungkwan's gonna call you a cockblocker for the rest of your life," you muttered in agreement.
He snorted. "You said it, not me." He sobered then, closing the lid of his laptop so he could lace his fingers over it and fix you with a serious expression. "So how do you feel? Tell me what happened."
You twisted and dropped your bag to the ground by your feet, moving your chair closer to the desk so you could drape your upper half on top of the cool surface. "We were dancingâ"
"Really?"
"Mhm," you hummed against the table. "It was⌠it was really nice, Doie. I actually had fun. And then we justâI don't even knowâwe played around a little and he was helping me up off the ground, and suddenly we were kissing."
Doyoung's brows furrowed together. "Ah, I see. Did he kiss you or did you kiss him?"
"He kissed me, but I didn't stop him." You could recall the look in his eyes with a striking amount of clarity. "I⌠I don't really know what it all means, or what it means to me. I'm a little confused, if I'm honest."
He sighed. "And that's okay. I think this is something you definitely need to go back and talk to him about though, hm?"
"Yeah."
"But Yn," he continued, reaching over to rub the top of your head and get you to look up, "did you ever have feelings for the guy?"
You slowly raised yourself up from the table with a frown on your face. "When I was a kid, I didn't really see anyone else but him," you confessed, almost unconsciously. You hadn't known what the feeling you harbored for him was back then, but maybe you could seek to understand it now.
Doyoung made a vague gesture with his hand as he sat back in his chair. "Well, that's a start for sure. But you and he have been on rocky terrain for years now. You're not kids anymore and a lot of things have changed." He was right, in some sense. You and Changmin had spent three years convincing yourselves you didn't need each other. Perhaps it had been the opposite the entire time, but what did it all mean?
"I'm glad to have him in my life again," you said quietly. "I think I've always felt⌠different about Changmin than any other friend I've had before, y'know? It was just unconscious in a way."
"Would you want to act on that then? See where it goes?"
You let his questions resonate around your head for a minute. But the more you thought about it, the more certain you became of your answer.
â âś
The back corridors of the performing arts hall were just as dark as it was when you had left. For a moment, you were afraid that Changmin had left. But as you neared the practice room from earlier, you could make out the sounds of voices drifting from the cracked open door of the room.
You strained your earsâwho was that with Changmin?
You reached the door, quietly pressing yourself against the wall to peer in through the cracked doorway. There, sitting opposite Changmin on the practice room floor, was Chanhee.
"âthink about it, Changmin," said Chanhee as he dropped his friend by the shoulders to keep him from sulking. "She kissed you back. Don't you think that means something?"
"She could've just been caught up in the moment," Changmin countered. "She could'veâ" He made a frustrated noise and threw his hands out in front of him, "Maybe I just don't want to be disappointed."
Chanhee frowned. "Disappointed⌠that she doesn't return your feelings? Changmin, can you be honest with me for a second?"
He gave a solemn nod.
"Those feelings you had for her when you were a kidâhave they ever gone away?"
You had to back away from the door and press your palm against your mouth. But because of that, you weren't able to catch Changmin's answer. Your heart slammed against your ribcage, your hands shaking as your thoughts raced in your head. You had to open the door now. You'd already intruded when you eavesdropped on their conversation.
Sucking in a breath, you pushed the door open wider. No going back now.
Changmin and Chanhee were both frozen in place when you poked your head into the room. The former paled in the warm-toned practice room lights, and you saw him gulp.
"Yn!" Chanhee laughed nervously as he and his friend both scrambled to their feet. His car keys jangled noisily from where they hung on a clip from his belt loop. "Uhm, I think I should leave," he said, clearing his throat and brushing past you.
You grabbed your arm as you shuffled into the room and gently kicked the door closed behind you.
Changmin cupped the back of his neck. "How much did you hear?" He asked, not even bothering to hide the open glisten in his eyes, the pure vulnerability lying stark on his face. It felt like you were seventeen again, standing alone together in the practice room, not really sure what the other person would say or do or feel.
"What did Chanhee mean by you having feelings for me when we were kids?" You asked.
The silence was palpable. "You really didn't know?"
No, you shook your head, definitely not. "IâI mean, no. Not really. I guess I always thought⌠I don't know what I thought."
He braced both hands behind his head now, his eyes tilted back toward the ceiling. "Yn," he said before looking you in the eyes again, "every time I saw you, I saw someone who put the fucking stars in the sky. If you watch any of our videos from back thenâ" He pushed out a haggard breath from his mouth. "I could never not care for you, could never stop caring for you. It hurt a lot when we stopped being us because I thought IâŚ"
His hands fell to his sides, helpless. "I thought I lost you. And then it felt like you hated me, so I tried to hate you, too. And then we worked shit out. And thenâŚ" Changmin brushed his bangs back and was unable to look you in the eyes for longer than a second with each glance. "I'm sorry I kissed you. I don't want to lose you again, Yn."
Your heart thundered in your ears so loud that you almost thought he could hear it, even from so far away. You got yourself to take a step forward, and then another.
Changmin waited as you walked closer to him, his lips pressed together.
You inhaled. "Changmin, I can't say for sure what I felt for you back then, and I definitely can't articulate my feelings for you as well as you just didâ" His eyes clashed with yours, that energy colliding, "âbut I'm not sorry you kissed me, or that I kissed you."
You thought you heard his breath hitch for a moment.
"I don't want to lose you again, either," you said and tentatively reached for his hands. Never in your years of knowing him had you known a moment where his fingers trembled like they did now. "And IâI really want to see where this goes. Would you want to see where this goes with me?"
His fingers curled around yours as he nodded. "Yes."
EPISODE SIXTEEN: OFF [MY] FACE
"WHAT about that one?"
"Don't touch that one."
"Will it burn my skin off?" Changmin asked in a sleepy daze as one hand rubbed his eye and the other reached for the gallon of liquid that sat behind a locked cabinet with a clearly marked DO NOT TOUCH. DANGER. plastered on the side.
"Yes," you said without looking up from your organic chemistry textbook.
Changmin's hand dropped immediately and he turned to send a look your way. "Well, that's not very safe."
His hoodie-covered head began bumbling back over to you through the maze of workbenches. It was the first week back to school from spring break, thus, the very first week of the spring quarter. You and Changmin were currently in your regular lab space that you unofficially dubbed your study area. Kun was in the break room probably half asleep over a bag of shrimp chips, and Ten⌠Ten was somewhere around here. Maybe he got lost down the hallway looking for the bathroom or something.
Changmin had come to hang out with you though, even though he was practically a walking baby giraffe as drowsiness possessed his whole being. But he insisted on staying until you went home.
"It's actually just distilled water," you said with a chuckle. "The lab professors just don't want people using it because for some reason, the convenience stores around here are always out, and they don't want to go hunting for more."
You felt him drape over your back with a fwump. "I love when you talk dirty to me," he said through a rather large yawn.
You grinned to yourself, shaking your head. "Okay, I think we need to get you home."
"Not before you take me to dinner first."
"Are you sure you're not drunk?"
You packed your things up quickly, especially when you saw Changmin nodding off while standing upright. It was already around nine o'clock by the time you said good night to Kun and located Ten (yeah, he'd gone looking for the bathroom and almost gotten locked in a supply closet instead).
Changmin tried to convince you he was okay to drive, but by the way he couldn't even figure out that his keys were hanging on his belt loop, it was safe to say that you were driving tonight. The drive over to Changmin and Chanhee's apartment was an easy one since they lived in the university district and the streets were quite barren at this point. You helped him up to the apartment, greeting Chanhee who was in a fluffy pink robe and matching headband.
"Hi Chanhee," you sighed as you pushed Changmin into the bathroom to shower.
Chanhee looked on in ill-concealed amusement. "He'll be much better after he showers," he reassured you from his perch on the couch. You saw the page-long math problems spread out on the coffee table and held in a gag.
"Dear god, I hope so."
Chanhee directed you to where Changmin's room was and you dumped both yours and his backpacks on the floor by his desk. You actually had yet to step foot in here until now, so while Changmin was doing his thing in the bathroom, you let your eyes roam all around the room. It was relatively clean (emphasis on relatively) with walls that were minimally decorated. There was a whole separate rack of shirts and jackets left outside the small wardrobe, and you recognized a couple of them.
You leaned over his desk to see what he had posted on the wall above it. There were a couple dozen printed photographs of him and his friends, as well as an award or two that were big in name and no doubt special to him. You felt yourself smile; you didn't have to be up here, but you liked seeing his smile in all of these pictures.
And then you saw it.
There was a printed copy of a review pinned amongst the pandemonium of memorabilia. The layout of the page was incredibly familiar, and with widened eyes, you realized that it was a review from the Daily's Opera Glasses.
In fact, as you squinted and skimmed, it was your review from freshman year. It was your (anonymous) review about his debut winter showcase performance.
Wow.
You barely registered Changmin shuffling into the room in slippers and a bathrobe of his own, his dark hair still dripping with water.
He passed you a glance while heading for his wardrobe. "Hey, do you wanna stay over?"
You definitely weren't prepared for that question. "Stay over?" You parroted dumbly. "Also, you have an Opera Glasses review printed out?" Your hand gestured to the sheet of paper pinned to the wall.
Changmin's head turned and he abandoned the wardrobe to walk over to you and his desk. You pressed yourself against the wall to the side to give him space to look. "Ah," he said with a boyish grin, "that was yours, wasn't it?"
"How the hell could you tell?"
He leaned in close to you, bracing an arm above your head. The smell of his shampoo was strong and you came to the realization that he was still in a bathrobe. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You don't think I could tell what your writing voice sounded like?" He asked, his voice suddenly lowered.
You inched forward, a dare. "Are you gonna get dressed, Changmin?"
His smile widened. "I could," he teased.
"Hey! Can you guys close the door or keep it down? Some of us are single and have math homework!"
Both you and Changmin laughed at Chanhee's outburst even though your face was definitely heated up.
Changmin took advantage of your unassuming state and pressed his mouth to yours, tasting your laughter on his tongue until you could only taste his in return. It was a dizzying sort of kiss, his arm still above you and his other curled around your waist.
When he pulled away, he bit his lip around a smirk. "I'll get changed now."
Criminal. Absolutely criminal.
He indeed got changed. And so did you. Apparently, he was being serious about you staying the night, and soon enough, you found yourself buried beneath his covers and swept in his very clingy arms. Not that you were complaining; he smelled nice.
You and Changmin laid facing each other in the darkness of his room. Round spectacles sat awkwardly on his nose bridge since the side of his face was pressed against the pillow, but he said he wouldn't take them off until he was just about to drift off.
"Yn-ie."
"Hm?"
He giggled, turning over and reaching over the side of his bed for something. You were about to question what he was doing until he quite literally shoved his wretched Chucky doll into your face.
"What the flying fuckâ" You glared at the toy and its creepy stitched face. You had been startled by it, but you had grown used to it after having to deal with his obsession with the damn thing in the last two years of high school.
Changmin hugged the abomination to his chest as he snickered loudly.
"I thought you got rid of that thing."
"You clearly don't know me well enough."
You began to sit up and make a show of throwing off the covers. "I'm leavingâ"
"Wait, wait, wait!" He blubbered, grabbing your upper arm and yanking you back down onto the bed next to him.
He leaned over you, his Chucky doll still tucked in the crook of his arm, as Changmin pouted. The glasses were practically sliding off his nose and his hair was sticking up in the back. What a duality. "I don't want you to leave."
"I'm not cuddling with Chucky, Changmin."
"Butâ"
"I will go ask Chanhee for an extra blanket."
Changmin's pout contorted into a scowl. "I'll murder him."
You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of this conversation. "I think you need to go to sleep."
He flopped back onto the bed next to you, reluctantly setting Chucky back down on the floor next to the bed where the wretched thing had been hiding this whole time. You suppressed a shiver.
Finally able to breathe easy, you settled back into Changmin's arms. He tucked you against his chest, his chin settled on top of your head. You felt him shift as he took his glasses off and reached behind him to set them on the nightstand.
You were just drifting off to sleep to the melody of his heart beat when: "Yn?"
"Hm?"
His lips pressed to the crown of your head. "I missed you."
You knew what he meant. You pressed a kiss to his chest and heard the shuddering breath that fell from his lips. "I missed you, too."
EPISODE SEVENTEEN (EPILOGUE): [ON OUR TERMS]
THE problem with the restaurant was that it reminded you of something like the word "home". The sign above the door was made with some common font that one could find on Microsoft Word and you were pretty sure they only took cash, too. There was a reason you had chosen this restaurant in particular, and it was because you thought that eating at a place with your comfort foods would, well, comfort you. But you had been staring at the front for a minute or two now, and you weren't sure it was working.
From beside you, you felt someone take your hand in his. "We don't have to go in," said Changmin, his expression blank and reserved as he looked at the eatery, but softened a considerable amount when he looked over at you.
Your mother was waiting for you in there, somewhere. You wanted to finally talk to herâmaybe make some peace with yourself. You'd told Changmin about it, and he insisted on coming as moral support.
You squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. "I can't just not go, Changmin."
His touch was gentle as his thumb grazed over the back of your knuckles, just as gentle as his voice was, "You don't owe her anything, Yn. You deserve an apology from her and you deserve closure, but you don't owe her anything. Not after what she put you through."
You were quiet for a moment and your free hand brushed over the hollow of your throat where the tightening sensation was.
Changmin added, "I'll support whatever decision you come to."
You considered the restaurant again. It had always held a great amount of significance and comfort for you. Did you want to ruin that with a potentially sour conversation? For all you knew, this could end incredibly poorly.
But⌠there were some things that needed to be done.
You steeled your resolve. "Ready?"
Changmin, all dapper in his dress shirt and pants and styled hair, flashed you a dimpled smile. "Whenever you are."
a/n: wow ... anyways lol thanks for getting through that madness, and hope u enjoyed!! pls do consider reblogging, commenting, or sending an ask to my inbox teehee i would really appreciate it ! now, onto hyunjae's ! >:)
everyone thinks changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is.
⡠genre, part warnings. e2l, childhood friends gone bad, (extra) slow burn, fluff, angst, mentions of childhood trauma and parental manipulation, arguing, bittersweet galore, nct ten is there for the sole purpose of being nosy like the rest of us or for being a 2nd male lead who knows!, swearing, hurt/comfort, ji changmin dancing. (need i go on), symptoms of panic/anxiety, a lot of non-tbz moments sorry i meant it when i said extra slow burn, pining haha...ha (very subtle)
⡠PART ONE WC. 18.5k
this is the third installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but i encourage u to read jacob and eric's storylines too! all prev and future yns will be referred to as _!yn ;) / otr part two
a/n: this was going to be a very quirky author's note, but it's not anymore bc i'm really mad at tumblr. pls enjoy :')
EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OFF THE CLOCK
"NIGHT, Yn!"
"Good night, Yn-ie."
"Make sure you get some rest, Yn-ah! Good luck with the report."
The door out of the laboratory building shuttered closed after your last coworkers and peers swept out to leave you to the white noise of the lights above your head and the cooling units. You were probably the only person crazy enough to still be chained to your lab workbench on a Friday night, especially when it was already six o'clock. Your stomach growled its complaints as you tucked a pen behind your ear with a sigh. There was probably a bag of shrimp chips in the break room snack stash, and you pushed your stool beneath the workbench to head into the break room.
Now that the laboratory was practically barren except for you, it wouldn't be a bad idea to take the reign of Kun's speakerâŚ
The sound of your phone ringtone blared out loud from your pocket, and you scrambled to grab it with your other hand not occupied with shrimp chip crumb dust (after having washed your hands, of course). You put the call on speaker then deposited your phone onto the countertop so both hands could be used for eating. "Yo."
"You've been hanging around Mark too much," Yeri answered from the other end.
You snorted, covering your mouth for a moment, then replying, "Well good evening to you, too, my beloved. What's up?"
You could hear the muffled sounds of your friends from the other side of the phone. A car door slammed shut. "Hey-yo, is that Yn? Yn, what's up, my dude?"
"Mark, can you speak like a regular human?" That was Seungkwan. "Hi Yn-ie! We miss you, mwah!"
"Look, man. Me and Yn are homies, and this is literally just how I talkâ"
The car door opened and Yeri must have taken initiative to get out of the car herself at this point. You laughed at her audible eye roll. "Okay, now that you've heard what I have to deal with, will you tell me that you're coming to the dance draft show tonight?"
Your mood soured.
It wasn't that you didn't want to go for Yeri's sanity's sake, you just didn't want to go, period. What the performing arts called a rehearsal, they referred to as a "draft" stage, where they planned rough runs of acts for the showcase. It just so happened that the dance department was holding their draft show for people to sit-in to watch tonight; their final showcase would be held on the Friday night of finals week, which was only in a few weeks now.
(Why did they call it a "draft" stage instead of simply a "rehearsal"? Well, you had no clue, and you didn't have any plans to ask anyone who would know the answer.)
When you didn't immediately answer, you heard Yeri's grumble. "Don't nerd out on me, Miss Yn Ln."
You gasped. "Nerd out on you? I'm being responsibleâ"
"You're being a workaholic!"
You pursed your lips together and quickly rinsed your fingers of shrimp chip crumbs. "Fair. But I'm sorry, I'm not going."
A brief pause. Then, the sigh. "Okay. That's okay," she said. "Wanna meet us for dinner afterwards at least?"
Your stomach grumbled, right on cue. It wasn't loud enough for Yeri to hear on the other end, but the timing made you laugh to yourself. "Definitely."
There was a smile in your friend's voice. "Cool! I'll text you details once we figure out what's happening. In the meanâ" her voice was interrupted by the sound of muffled yelling on the other side, and Yeri pulled her mouth away from the phone so she could screech at Seungkwan, Mark, and now, Kim Jungwoo, to be quiet and put their seatbelts on. You heard vaguely about Jungwoo being late for his call time, and you were not at all surprised. She returned to the phone with a grumble. "You're really leaving me with the kids, Yn?"
You giggled. "Sorry, Yeri. I'll pay for your dinner."
"Deal. See you soon, babe."
"See ya, love!"
When the phone call ended, you realized just how thick the silence fell around you. It settled like a blanket over your senses, and it all became a bit overwhelming, especially after such a loud phone call.
You sighed, putting the shrimp chips back in the snack stash. You might as well go find where Kun hid his speaker to fill the silence then.
â âś
People were yelling. And tripping. And crying.
In retrospect, this constituted as a normal backstage environment for something like a finals showcase draft rehearsal. It was hardly even a rehearsal, but more so a sneak peek showcase. There were people in the audience, after all.
Ji Changmin would know. This would be his third winter draft show out of his three years here in university. There were always showcases at the end of each quarter, but the winter show wielded the title of most anticipated. With the cold and rainy weather keeping most people indoors, it allowed for a larger crowd to come flocking toward said indoor modes of entertainment. Thus, the winter showcase and all of its hype.
Changmin lingered in his little corner of the backstage area, calmly stretching out his lanky limbs while chaos erupted all around him. He had two acts this time aroundâa duet with Lee Juyeon, as well as a solo performance. It had been enough to keep him busy for the quarter, among his other classes.
"âJungwoo, you're late!"
He raised his head at the sound of Lee Minhoâs voice from across the room, the dirty blond sending a deadpanned glare at the man in question. Kim Jungwooâs eyes were wide with doe-like innocence as he made his way toward his friend, his posse following behind and taking in the chaos with amused awe. Changmin could easily recognize those presentâKim Yeri, Mark Lee, and Boo Seungkwan.
He turned his head away; it wasnât his business, and he had much bigger things to worry about.
He raised his hands to his neck to put his headphones over his ears, but paused when he caught a few more echoes of their conversation.
â â sorry Minho, but you know I canât resist getting a free carpool ride,â Jungwoo said while setting his duffle bag in the corner and swiftly joining Minho in stretches. If Changmin was a hard ass when it came to dance and schedules, Minho was much worse. But Changmin respected him a lot, especially in a craft like dance and performanceâhe saw him as an equal.
A sigh from Minho. âYeah, yeah. Poor Yeri.â
Yeri huffed, her hands shooting up into the air. âThank you!â
Minho folded his arms over his chest as he stood up straight to stand next to Yeri as the two of them absentmindedly watched Jungwoo fold himself in two to stretch his long legs out. âHuh, no Yn tonight?â
Changmin didnât know why he was still listening. He slowly lowered his headphones back to their position around his neck, then resumed stretching out his hamstrings. He could wait a couple more minutes before getting into his choreographyâŚ
âYou know youâre not gonna see her anywhere near this place,â Yeri said with a pointed look. Changmin held back a retort, or even a snort. âWanna get dinner with us tonight? Sheâs coming to meet us after the show.â
âAh, Iâd love to, but I promised Jisung Iâd swing by the studio afterwards. Hey, have you met Ten yet? You should askâŚâ
Changmin decided that this was an appropriate moment to tune out. He swiftly donned his headphones and reached for his phone hidden in the pile of his duffle bag and jackets in the corner. He didnât even know why he listened in when your friends brought you up. Why were you even still connected to the dance and performing arts department people anyway? He huffed, rolling his eyes with a small shake of his head. It wasnât like you wanted to be connected to dance anyway. So why give him a constant reminder of your existence and the past you sharedâ
âChangminnie!â Juyeon appeared in front of him, waving to him with that goofy smile to get his attention.
Changmin broke into a smile as he shifted one side of his headphones from his ear. âHey. Wanna go over some of the routine?â
Juyeon nodded. âYeah, Iâm ready. I was trying to get your attention, but I think you were just occupied.â
Whoops. Changmin flicked his wrist as he followed Juyeon down the hallway to a more private place to practice with his friend. âYeah, sorry. I was just thinking of something.â
âOh, okay,â Juyeon ducked his head into an empty dressing room in the back hallway, beckoning Changmin to follow him in. âNothing to worry about though? You can talk to me; no judgment.â
Changmin chuckled and closed the door behind him. âNah, nothing important. Letâs just focus on the performance.â Anything involving you? Definitely not important anymore.
â âś
Late February brought the cold, bitter winds of night to the university, so the trek all the way across campus from the laboratory buildings to the performing arts hall was a hellish one. You kept your head tucked into the puffy collar of your puffer jacket, hands stuffed into your pockets, a happy tune blasting in your ears to keep you going all the way up the road. It was around nine oâclock by the time you made it to the front of the performing arts hall, and you could already see the sea of people meandering outside its doors post-draft show.
You shivered and pulled your phone out from your pocket to see where your friends were waiting for you.
âYn-ie!â
Your head lifted and you grinned, waving your hand at Seungkwan who was making his way over to you. âHi Kwannie,â you greeted and wrapped your arms around him in a warm embrace.
When youâd pulled away, Seungkwan made a face as he shuddered. âJesus, itâs cold. I should have brought a scarf or something. Did you walk here?â
You began to nod, but he tsked. âAish, Yn. You shouldâve called! No one should have to walk in this torturous cold.â
You laughed. âItâs no big deal. Weâre about to go get some hot food, so itâs cool.â
âWe might have to wait for a little longer.â Both you and Seungkwan turned toward Yeri, Mark, and Jungwoo who were walking over. Jungwoo had a sweatband holding his bangs out of his face and his duffle slung over his shoulder. He had his jacket draped over his arm; he was probably warm from the showcase. âWeâre waiting on Ten to finish up.â
âHi Jungwoo,â you greeted him, and the man returned the expression with a side hug. You furrowed your brows. âWhoâs Ten?ââ
Mark replied with a sniffle from the cold, âOh, heâs a new exchange student! Well, he was originally admitted here, but he went abroad for a year. He's with the NCT frat. Super cool, super funny. Heâs great at dance though.â
âI think youâll vibe with him, Yn,â Yeri chimed in. âHeâs asking a couple people for their opinion on a few parts of his routine, so I think heâll be out soon.â
You nodded in understanding. You didnât mind waiting, but you hoped what Yeri said about him was true. Hopefully you did get along with him, because you were honestly far too tired to forcefully play nice. You were hoping for a chill night anyway. Then again, as long as you could avoid a certain someone tonight, this would turn out to be a chill night in general.
You and your friends chatted for a few minutes only before Jungwoo caught someoneâs eyes from behind you, Yeri, and Mark. He brightened. âTen! Ten, over here!â
You all swiveled.
Ten was just as lean and lithe as Jungwoo was, but with black bangs, a pair of round spectacles hanging from the collar of his white T-shirt, and a cute smile on his face. You and he made brief eye contact before Jungwoo was hopping on the balls of his feet to greet him.
Jungwoo slung an arm around Tenâs shoulders as he brought him over to the group. âYn, this is Ten Lee. Ten, this is Yn-ieâthe friend we mentioned earlier.â
Your eyes widened slightly. âWhy was I mentioned?â You laughed nervously.
Ten flashed you a boyish kind of smile. âOh, it was nothing; donât worry. Itâs nice to meet you though.â
Your heart didn't slow at his assurance. âAh, okay then. Uh, nice to meet you, too!â
âDid you get your routine settled?â Seungkwan asked as the lot of you began to move in one, loose blob toward Yeriâs car. (How all of you would manage to fit, that was something you mentally were trying to figure out. In Yeriâs tiny sedan, you might have to squish four people into the back seat.)
Ten nodded enthusiastically. âYup, itâs all sorted. Minho and Changmin were really helpful with their comments.â
You felt the people around you freeze at the mention of Changminâs name. You stiffened as well, but tried to force the strange feeling to go away. Your friends knew the drill, too, but you saw the way they glanced at you from their periphery.
Ten was smart, you realized, when his head tilted at all of your reactions.
Time for damage control. âThatâsâthatâs good!â Markâs voice cracked and coughed to clear it. âI mean, Minhoâs always been really attentive to details and stuff. I think he was almost recruited to become an idol or something like thatâŚâ
Ten pursed his lips, as if silently saying, âIâm not buying this bullâ. You decided to just⌠do it. âChangminâs a great dancer, too,â you said, and everyone shot disbelieving glances your way, but you could already see how Ten was grasping onto everything you were saying. You forced a neutral tone into the way you spoke, forced yourself not to let the bitterness seep through. No one deserved to fall victim to the feelings that were only meant for one Ji Changmin. âIâm glad he helped you out. Heâs really good at sharp movements and isolations.â
âOh, do you dance, Yn?â Ten piped up with a twinkle in his eyes.
âRuh roh,â you heard Seungkwan murmur, and he shuffled away from you to go to the other side of Yeriâs car.
Maybe you purposefully let him see right through you. âNot really. It was a long time ago.â
You and Ten held eye contact, the silent tension like communication passed between the two of youâthis was personal, but Ten could figure out that there was more to the story. It was odd though; the way he didnât fear prodding just a little bit. You didnât know why you were letting yourself feed him more bait, but Yeri was hollering for the two of you to squeeze into the backseat, and you snapped out of it.
WeirdâŚ
Ten held the backseat door open for you. âLooking forward to getting to know you, Yn,â he said pleasantly.
Your eyes narrowed slightly as you slipped into the backseat. âSame to youâŚâ
EPISODE TWO: OFF THE TABLE
YOUR curiosity won you out.
In fact, it won you over so much that you agreed to get coffee with Ten Saturday afternoonâwith Mark and Yeri, of course. The four of you had coordinated stopping by one of the coffee shops in the shopping mall just down the hill from the university to hang out and destress a little from the incoming second wave of STEM midterms. Well, you needed to destress. Mark was in communications, Yeri in psychology, and Ten was⌠what was Tenâs major again?
âForeign affairs,â he answered before lifting the straw of his iced americano to his lips. âLots of foreign language classes and politics and history. Politics and capitalism classes are not my favorite, but all the cultural courses on campus are really great.â
You bobbed your head, propping your chin onto your palm. You sat across from him at one of high tables in the cafe; Mark and Yeriâs stools were barren, save for the belongings they left for you and Ten to watch, while they literally sprinted across the mall to the grocery store because they forgot they were supposed to bring booze to the NCT-RVE joint alumni homecoming tonight. You probably werenât going to go just because social energy came in short supply these days, but you promised to send a card for your friends in RVE.
âI can imagine,â you commented. âI took a really neat course on African tribes and culture in freshman year, and I miss my professor a lot. I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I joined his study abroad program in Ghana instead of staying here.â
Tenâs head did the tilt thing again, the one you recognized from last night as something he did when he was intrigued. âThat does sound really cool. What made you stay?â
Where do I even begin? âMy major,â you replied simply. It wasnât really a lieânot entirely a lie. You sipped on your latte, a faraway look in your eyes. âI was so set on a plan that I guess I got nervous about the unknown should I have gone on that trip.â
âMm, I understand.â He had taken on a softer look now, something more akin to empathy. âIt is a little scary, but while I was in Indonesia, I realized I wouldnât have traded such an experience for anything else."
You set your cup down. "Have you always wanted to dabble in global affairs?"
"Uh, I'm not sure," he said, head tilted upward with a scrunch in his nose. He nudged his glasses up the smooth slope of his sculpted nose. "I was kind of put in a situation where I had to learn a lot of new languages, and I luckily turned out to be pretty good at picking up on them."
"Wow, that's really cool," you chuckled. A talent you definitely envied. And it seemed like Ten had made the decision to pursue this future of his on his own. You wished you could say the same.
From the counter of the cafĂŠ, you heard one of the workers call out your order number for cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven.
You began to slip off your stool, and Ten spoke up, "Oh, I can totally go get those."
"It's no problem," you chirped, "I'm already down anyway." You were swift to scurry over to the counter and pick up your table's tray of cinnamon rolls with a smile at the worker in deep gratitude. The thick, warm sweetness wafted into your nose, and you inhaled the delights with a blissful grin.
However, as you turned to head back to the table, you halted abruptly, nearly knocking the plates on the tray into each other.
There, standing next to your table and chatting with Ten, were Ji Changmin and Choi Chanhee.
Great.
The sweet dessert smell soured and tasted like acid on your tongue. Bitter, like the taste of hot coffee straight from the pot. You schooled your face into neutrality, but there was no way all of the uncomfortableness could stay away.
You made your way over; the tray was getting heavy.
"âactually here with Yn, Mark, and Yeriâ" Ten was pointing your way and you had to control your urge to hide.
Changmin and Chanhee's heads turned in sync, but only Changmin's eyes narrowed at the sight of you. You returned the expression wholeheartedly.
Chanhee held his breath, muttering a "Yikes" under his breath, while Ten observed the interaction with slightly parted lips. Huh.
"Ji."
"Ln."
You deposited the tray onto the table and your biceps sighed in relief. Those four cinnamon rolls truly were quite hefty on their own.
You could still feel Changminâs eyes on you as you slid onto the stool across from Ten. âSomething youâd like to say to me?â You addressed him with ill-suppressed snark.
Changminâs eyes narrowed. âNothing that youâll take into importance anyway. Just didnât think you would ever hang out with someone from the dance department.â
âTenâs got a life outside of dance, Changmin,â you replied. You flashed him a thin-lipped smile. âHe gets it.â
âAnd youâre so much better than me for having a so-called life,â he rolled his eyes. âYou know, some people are just really passionate about danceâsomething you seem to still not understand.â
âI really donât think you want me to bring up the trove of things you donât understandââ
Chanhee subtly moved over to Tenâs side as the two of them observed the sparring match between you and Changmin. A sigh fell from his lips, and his eyebrows raised up all the way to his pink-dyed hairline.
Ten had taken one of the plates of cinnamon buns in front of him, silently offering Chanhee some. The latter refused, and Ten began to peel away one of the sultry, sweet dough layers. âIs this⌠normal?â He asked Chanhee under his breath, motioning to the still-bickering couple across from them.
Chanhee snorted. âItâs their mating call.â
It seemed he had said those four words loud enough to catch yours and Changminâs attention. A miracle, indeed.
âEw,â both you and Changmin immediately grimaced at Chanhee. Then you looked at one another with a greater degree of disgust. âStop copying me!â
âŚOr, less so a miracle, but rather, a tragedy.
Chanhee let out a haggard sigh, eyes sullen to a deadpan. âOne of the few things the two of you will ever agree on.â
âThe last thing weâll ever agree on,â Changmin grumbled as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. âCâmon Chanhee. We should probably order before JC!Yn and Kei finish loading up the car.â
Changmin was already making his way over to the cashier when Ten managed to get in a final question, âAre you guys coming to the NCT-RVE homecoming tonight?â
âSureââ
âNo.â
Chanhee sent Ten an apologetic look for Changminâs brusque answer. âSorry about him. We were thinking of it, but he might be practicing with Juyeon tonight. See you later, Tenâand Yn!â He chased after Changmin, ambushing his friend by practically leaping onto his back and then smacking his shoulder.
Now that Changmin was away from you, the red in your vision had begun to clear away, and you finally remembered the set of delicious cinnamon rolls waiting for you.
Ten propped his cheek against his fist. âSo⌠you and ChangminâŚâ
You made a sour face as you cut off a slice of your cinnamon roll. âWhat about the gremlin?â You asked. As soon as the buttery, sweet delight hit your tongue, you felt your body lighten and you did a little happy dance in your seat.
Ten chuckled at your behavior. âLovers gone wrong?â
You choked on the bite.
Your new friendâs eyes widened comically to the size of saucers as he literally pounced across the table to pat your back. âShitâsorry, Yn. I probably shouldâve waited for you to finish swallowing, huh?â He winced when youâd managed to breathe correctly and washed the bite of food down with a sip of coffee. He returned to his perch, letting you recover while he talked through his thoughts. âI donât mean to pryâactuallyââ he paused, reconsidering, ââI do mean to pry. Sorry, Iâm kind of a sucker for this kind of stuff.â
One of your eyes squinted at him as you massaged your throat. âYeah, I kind of figured.â
He beamed at you boyishly, the kind of expression that almost had your defenses slipping. Almost. Ten was one slippery fellow. For some reason, you kind of respected him for being upfront about the nosiness, and if you were being honest, if this drama wasnât yours, you would also be curious about the whole thing.
âCanât help myself sometimes,â he confessed with a mere shrug. âYou donât owe an explanation or backstory, of course.â
You sucked in a breath, opting to hold back on eating your pastry until you and Ten were done with this topic. âIâm just going to say that Changmin and I were not âlovers gone wrongâ,â you said, body shuddering.
âMm,â he hummed. His eyes wandered behind you and over your head, swiftly followed by the action of waving to Changmin and Chanhee on their way out of the cafe. âItâs just interesting to me. Didnât you just advocate for him the other night at the draft show?â
That rang a bell, unfortunately. âItâs complicated.â
Ten pressed his mouth into a saccharine smile. âI can imagine.â
EPISODE THREE: OFF THE PHONE
THERE was an avid knocking at the laboratory door, usually done by those who didnât actually work at this specific lab. This lab area was usually reserved for upperclassmen and graduate students and their work.
âYn-ie, could you get the door, please?â You heard Kun called out to you from his office. It wasnât just the two of you tonight, but rather, just a few others you didnât know as well as you did Kun. He often worked late hours like you did, always overworking himself even more as a fresh grad student. You, on the other hand, were trying to finish up this one research paper resulting from last quarterâs research project. If you were lucky, you would be able to send it off to be peer reviewed soon.
You slipped out from behind your workbench and maneuvered the maze of workbenches to head out into the corridor. Exhaustion wore at your bones from having such a long day, but you really did need to get some productive work done so you could focus specifically on your midterms approaching at the end of this week and the beginning of the following week.
However, as you turned the corner into the corridor, you nearly missed your footing. At the end of the hallway where the glass door to the outside was, you found yourself identifying one Ji Changmin and his friend, someone you didnât recognize. The latter wore a gray hoodie beneath a black puffer vest, and he reacted the opposite to how Changmin did when they caught sight of you.
âHey! Could you open the door, please?â Not-Changmin hollered through the glass, furiously shaking his sweater-pawed hand down at the door handle.
You didnât want to. God, you really didnât want to.
Changmin stared you down, as if daring you to come closer.
You opened the door, and let the cool gust of late February air and two outsiders into the safety and warmth of the laboratory building.
Hoodie Guy shuddered violently to get the cold out of his system. âJesus, itâs cold outside. Thanks,â he said to you. Then he nudged Changmin with his elbow, as if jolting the man into reality.
âWhat are you doing here?â You asked, words directed toward Changmin in particular.
His dark bangs were tucked beneath a black beanie with his pair of black headphones hanging around his neck. âYou think I want to be here?â
His friend sent him a look, his eyes flickering between you and Changmin furiously until the pieces clicked into his mind. âWell, uh ohâŚâ he muttered while turning away slightly to scratch his head. He gathered his wits then. âUh, Yn, right?â
You perked up. âYes.â
âUh,â he drawled. âWeâre actually here for Jacob Bae. You see, we told him weâd come pick him up to take him over toââ
âIs he here?â Changmin asked.
Your eyebrow shot upward. At least they were here for a proper reason. You crossed your arms over your chest, glancing back toward the main laboratory floor way down the hall. Man, the safe zone felt so far away. âHe actually just left like, ten minutes ago. Sorry.â The apology was said to Changminâs friend, the one who seemed to have been able to figure out who exactly you were to Changmin. Not that you were anything to him. And did Changmin just talk about you to all his friends or somethingâ?
âOh.â
Changmin tapped his friend with the back of his hand. âCâmon Sunwoo. Weâll just meet him over there.â
Sunwoo wrinkled his nose. âI just think itâs weird that he didnât text us to let us know before we came over here.â
There was a pause and you could practically see the gears in Changminâs head turning. You would have left them to their own company, but you technically werenât allowed to leave unauthorized students alone.
It was strange seeing Changmin break into something akin to sheepishness. You saw the dimples appear in the apples of his cheeks as he cupped the back of his neck. âI might not have told him we were comingâŚâ
Sunwooâs eyes and mouth widened and he whacked his friend with the length of his hoodie sleeve. Changmin let out one of those hyena laughs that set off triggers in your mind. Itâd been awhile since you heard that⌠âHyung! Youâre so unreliable sometimes, oh my god. Even Eric would have remembered to tell him!â
Changmin made a noise of dismissal, slinging an arm around his friend. âAh, itâs fine. Weâll just meet him thereâas you said.â
âWorst texter award goes to,â Sunwoo rolled his eyes.
âI guess some things never change.â The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and both Sunwoo and Changmin suddenly remembered that you were in the hallway with them. Sunwoo had perked up as if he were surprised you would even comment on their situation, but Changmin cut an unreadable expression your way. You didnât want to read into it.
âYou literally forgot to answer a text I sent for three days,â Changmin quipped.
Well, if he was going to play the back and forth game. âThat was once out of how many other times,â you scoffed. âYou refused to answer anyoneâs texts in the mornings anyway, so don't get on my case about that.â
âHe did that to you, too?!â Sunwoo cut in with fire behind his words.
You couldâve sworn you saw the slightest bit of blush grace Changminâs cheekbones as you hid a laugh behind your hand. âHe did that to everyoneââ
âHey, Iâm better over call; you know that!â Changmin argued. âSunwoo, you canât even talk about being a bad texter. I have to hunt for you on discord sometimes to get a straight answer.â
Sunwoo groaned, âYah! Whatever. Itâs still better than your average three-business-day reply speed.â
Changmin stammered, âIt is not an average of three business days.â If your ears were not deceiving you, Ji Changmin was whining. âItâs a couple hours at least.â
âA couple hours means half a day,â you said to Sunwoo.
Changmin whipped his attention back to you, finger jabbed accusingly in your direction. âHey, missy! You always fell asleep on-call, even when you promised that you would stay up to help me study.â
You shook your head. âNot my fault! You know that I always fell asleep around midnight back then.â
âWell, back thenââ
âIs everything okay out here?â
Everything in the corridor came to a stand still, and Changmin closed his mouth, mid-sentence. Kun had his head poking out of the door to the main floor, a crease pressed between his brows and right above the rim of his thin spectacles. He eyed the two non-laboratory students with a slight grimace. Of course, Kun was aware of who Changmin was. He could recognize him because of his famed performer reputation on campus, but he knew his history with you because you had spent far too many late nights here at the lab with things plaguing your mind. You and Kun both had a problem with trouble sleeping and being workaholics.
You turned slightly to Kun. âYeah, everythingâs okay, Kun-ge.â
He sent you an unimpressed look.
âWe,â Changmin piped up as he urged Sunwoo to the door, âwere just leaving.â The mirth and fire from the bickering just a few seconds ago had faded, and you could feel him slipping away.
Kun drummed his fingers along the doorframe, eyebrows shooting up for a second. âOh-kay⌠Yn-ie, Ten says heâs right around the corner and asks if you want some company walking home.â
The door to the laboratory behind you was held open, and the night breeze brushed through your hair. When you looked back, you saw that Changmin had stalled in the door for a second. But, it had only been that second before he and his friend were gone.
âOh.â You made your way over to Kun. âThatâs really cool of him. Iâd love that.â Some company on a late-night walk back to your apartment did not sound bad at all. Youâd done plenty of trips on your own, but sometimes having even one person with you would have been nice.
Kun nodded, pursing his lips, as the two of you walked into the main lab together and toward his office off to the side. âOkay, Iâll let him know. Youâre for sure okay though? That must have been⌠not nice, seeing Changmin here.â
You gave a stiff shrug, your hip leaning against the door of his office while Kun settled back at his desk. âItâs fine,â you said. To be honest, you werenât even sure if that was a lie or not. Youâd heard Changmin laugh for the first time in years. Youâd seen the dimples in his cheeks, the sheepishness in his expressionâyou swallowed.
Once upon a time, you associated all of those things with something like happiness. Your happiness.
Kun fixed you with a pointed look. âIf you need to talk.â
You gave a firm nod. âI know where to find you.â
He clicked his tongue, shooting you a finger gun, then shooed you off to finish your work and pack your things. Ten was just around the corner, after all.
EPISODE FOUR: OFF THE RECORD
CHANGMIN liked to think that he became nosy, and that he wasn't born this way. But ever since he overheard that Kun guy asking about Ten wanting to walk you home, he couldn't help but wonderâŚ
He shook his head, brushing his hair out of his eyes and off his forehead, before those same bangs flopped back into their place. He walked back onto the main stage of the performing arts hall to the soundtrack of a hype playlist blasting from the ears of his headphones. As he made his way past groups and individuals doing their own thing, he absentmindedly searched for one person in particular.
Conveniently, he found Ten setting himself up right by Changmin's things. He was shouldering off his black puffer jacket, rolling the material up into a manageable ball to shove into his duffle bag.
"Hey," Changmin greeted, bending down slightly to grab his water bottle.
Ten straightened and flashed him a smile. "Hey."
It wouldn't be awkward would it? Probably not. Just be cool about it, Changmin. He smiled slightly, the dimples in his cheeks disarming his acquaintance. "I didn't know you and Yn were close."
Your name felt so⌠foreign, yet familiar, on his tongue. It was like tasting dÊjà vu, like eating a treat from childhood that had been associated with good feelings, but he couldn't decide if it was still as good as he remembered or a trick of his mind.
The mention of your name brought a jolt of energy to Ten's body and Changmin saw the man lean into the conversation. Curious⌠"Oh? Well, I meanâ" he gave a shrug, "âshe's really cool. She just seems like a good person to get to know, y'know? Why do you ask?"
Changmin couldn't tell how much he trusted the slight narrowing of Ten's feline eyes. There was no way you hadn't mentioned him to Ten at some point or another. To be honest, he didn't like the feeling of you still lingering in his head if he didn't linger in yours. It meant a myriad of things that he loathed to admit.
He let the feeling slide away, let his mouth tilt upward like his eyes to the spotlights in the ceiling. "Just beâŚ" He shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing." He flicked his wrist, as he spun his water bottle cap on tight. "You can forget about it."
Ten sent him a look that Changmin pointedly ignored.
Somewhere within the depths of the performing arts center, Changmin could hear the howling laughter of his friend Hyunjae as he most likely bugged his best friend out of her mind, both to her chagrin and her delight. That was another can of worms entirely.
Ten piped up as he settled onto the backstage floor while Changmin mentally went through some of the problem sets he had to review today. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you and Yn on such⌠uneven ground with each other?"
There it was. Changmin snorted. "Uneven ground? I don't even know if we're on the same ground."
"You're both really friendly people," Ten added, "so it just doesn't make sense to me."
Changmin pursed his lips. He never felt the need to divulge this stuff to anyone but his friends, but he didn't know what Ten already knew. He didn't know what you told him, but based on the fact that Ten wasn't looking at him the same way you did⌠Changmin scratched the back of his head and leaned his side against the wall to face him. "Something happened a long time ago. I guess we just both hold a grudge well."
Ten huffed a laugh in response. "Remind me never to get on your bad side then," he joked.
â âś
There was a buzz about the university newspaper room. The Daily had only a handful of crew members onboard, mainly because it was so selective. Over the past few years that you had been apart of the staff, you and a few others had gradually loosened the reputation of the Daily's elitist interview processâthere was still some level of intimidation that ensured the publication took on the hard workers and not those simply looking for an extracurricular to put on their resume though.
So when there was talk of a new staff member, everyone knew about it.
You let yourself in the door with a sigh, brushing the hair from your eyes held up with a random, blue claw clip you found on your bathroom sink. The bus had been late this morning because it broke down, but you luckily were able to make it to your lecture on time. You had run over here for a quick meeting that Kim Doyoung had summoned you for, no doubt about the new hire.
"Hey guys," you said as you passed by clusters of desks piled with copyedits and heads buried in monitor screens. The sounds of typing stopped briefly with each head you walked past:
"Yn!"
"Hi Yn!"
"Sup YnâHEY! I just did my hair this morning!" Mark yelped, hands smoothing down the braids in his hair.
You giggled as you patted his head. "Your hair needs a break, Mark."
As you disappeared around the corner, you heard him shout back, "So do you, but you never hear me complaining!"
You rolled your eyes with an ill-concealed smile. The door to Doyoung's little editor in chief office was right down the hall next to the office for the sponsoring professor. As much as you and the others teased him about getting the "Boss man" office, he always complained to you about being on edge with the professor's office next door. You didn't quite understand since Professor Woo was almost never in his office anyway, but you supposed you could see.
Doyoung's door was open, and the fourth year's head perked up at the sound of your voice and nearing footsteps. He didn't even wait for you to knock or say hi, before beckoning you inside. "Yn, thank god you know how to hustle. Close the door on your way in. Thanks."
Your eyebrows shot up at the terseness in his tone, but didn't question him until you'd closed the door and settled into the chair opposite him. His desk, much like those outside, was covered in a sea of paper, with his laptop being the only land in sight. "What's up? You sound stressed."
He shot you a look over the rims of his thin glasses. "When am I not stressed?"
"Valid."
"Okay," he began with a sigh that made your concern rise just a bit more, "you know the situation with our performing arts review section, right?"
You nodded. "Of course."
The situation with the performing arts review section of the paper was inherently a mess. For a handful of years, the performing arts section was written under a pseudonym (lovingly dubbed Opera Glasses)âthe identity of the reviewer was anonymousâwhich was a product of an incident a few years ago where a performer was unhappy with a review left by someone on the paper and came to ask, very unkindly, for a rewrite. Since then, the paper had been swallowed up by so much that finding a permanent writer or reviewer for the section became less and less of a priority.
When you joined the publishing team, it had been in the middle of freshman year when you were also putting your application out for research projects. Joining had felt like the right thing to do, as much as it was an act of rebellion against your mother and your childhood. They had asked if you knew anything about dance of all things.
And well, you did know.
You'd written one pieceâone piece that was entirely you. It had been for one of the dancers just debuting at his first winter showcase. Since then, you couldn't stomach writing another one or watching another one.
You ghost wrote, you edited, you advisedâbut you stuck to putting your energy into covering the STEM-related sections of the paper now.
So Doyoung already knew your relationship with the performing arts review section. "Well," he cleared his throat, making a vague flourish with his hand, "I'm sure you already know that I just interviewed a new prospective recruit. I was wondering if you would be willing to take them under your wing and to show them the ropes."
Oh. That wasn't exactly what you expected him to say. Your heart kicked up for an entirely new reason, however. You'd always wanted to be someone's mentor. To be someone's older sister. "I mean, yeah. I'd love to," you stammered, a smile slowly curling onto your lips. "That would be really cool."
Doyoung sighed, his shoulders sinking in relief. "Thank you."
"But wait." You cocked your head to the side as you asked, "What does Opera Glasses have to do with this?"
"I want her to eventually take over for it," he explained. "She knows quite a bit about theater and musicâlittle less about dance, though. I know that you have your issues with the dance department, but out of everyone here, you probably understand dance stuff the most. I just ask that you help her out a little with that, and maybe even introduce her to some of the people there so we can ease her in with interviewsâ"
You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he sent you a pointed look. He continued, "Just hear me out, okay? If you're uncomfortable at all, you can back out. And you don't even have to back out right now or completely; maybe you could have Mark introduce her to Jungwoo for interviews, and you can just stick to the behind-the-scenes stuff."
Doyoung exhaled. "Okay, so what are your thoughts?"
You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. What did you think⌠What did you think?
Even the thought of stepping foot into a practice room made the yelling and screams echo in the caverns of your mind. But you'd missed themâmissed the polished wood floors, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the people. God, you couldn't even stay away from the people if you tried, no matter how much you tried convincing yourself you could.
You weren't fooling anyone.
You swallowed. You'd always wanted to be a big sister.
What was the harm in giving this a try?
(Changmin. You'd probably run into Changmin a lot more often than if you didn't accept. But you could see him from that one night: the sheepishness, the dimples, the laugh. Why couldn't you get over that interaction?)
You mustered up your courage and straightened in your seat. "I'll still do it. When do we start?"
EPISODE FIVE: OFF THE MARK
IT turned out that Doyoung intended for you and your new recruit, Bae Sumin, to get started right away. With the winter showcase only a couple weeks away, it was imperative that the two of you dived right in.
"âso what made you interested in joining the team?" You asked, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets to hide signs of nervousness from your underclassman peer. The two of you were walking from the Daily's newsroom and over to the performing arts center. It was about a ten minute walk, but you figured that it would give you two the opportunity to get to know one another.
Sumin was a multimedia major, as you had been told earlier when the two of you just met for the first time in the entryway of the Daily newsroom. She was cute and well-dressedâshe wore a pleated skirt and sweater with a white collar peeking through. Her smile was dazzling, and reminded you of someone who would do well on stage. No wonder she had theater and performing experience.
"Oh!" She shot you one of those dazzling smiles, her hand shooting up to shift the white, fluffy earmuffs seated over her head. "I actually had a cousin who came here and shared with me some of the Daily's earlier issues. She always said it was kind of competitive to get in, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try."
You bobbed your head. "That's really cool." A small laugh fell from your lips, "I'm glad you did try! Lots of people just assume they're gonna get turned away and they don't try at all, you know?"
Sumin hummed in understanding.
Something had settled nicely in your chest throughout this walk. Even if your past anxieties were beginning to bubble up to the surface at the sight of the nearing performing arts buildings, Sumin's easy conversation calmed you. It was one less thing to worry about.
Yesterday, when Doyoung had proposed this job for you, you had asked Mark to accompany you and Sumin to the arts buildings. He couldn't walk with you two, but he promised to meet you there. Now, you were kind of glad you got to have this bit of bonding time with her.
âI think Doyoung said that I should introduce you to a few people in particular,â you said offhandedly and pulled your phone out to check yours and Doyoungâs text thread.
Sumin did the same, most likely taking out any notes she had taken from Doyoungâs instructions. âYeah, something like Lee Minho, Kim Jungwoo⌠the Hwang?âthe Hwang siblings, uhm and Ji ChangminâŚ?â
Your footing faltered for a second, and Sumin asked if you were all right, but you recovered quickly. You let out an embarrassed laugh, feeling heat crawl up your neck. Why in the world did his name catch you off guard like that? Maybe it was because you assumed Doyoung would just let you avoid Changmin, but realistically, if Sumin was going to do an interview with the dance departmentâs most prominent members, then there was no avoiding Changmin.
You just had to suck it up and be an adult about it.
It was three years ago⌠What was the big deal?
But as you moved to open the door to the backstage area for Sumin with your ID card, you felt your throat tighten in on itself. You forced a smile to your face as you let Sumin go in before you so you could turn your head out to inhale a large lungful of fresh air. Then, you ducked in after her.
The backstage corridors were as hustle n' bustle as you expected them to be. The lights were dim-looking from the black walls and floors marred with scuff marks from years upon years of use. It was an overwhelming tidal wave of sensory detailsâwhat, with the clashing sounds of chatter and music, the smell of some kind of polish (or maybe that was resin?), the warmth of energy in the air and all around you.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood like you could sense someone was coming this way.
You gestured down the opposite direction to Sumin. âCome on; Iâm pretty sure theyâre down this way.â
It was a curious thing, memory. You could recall late nights of catching the bus to these very practice rooms and backstage rooms from when you were in high school. Performing on the stage was a whole other experience in itself, and though part of you missed it, there were other feelings that dominated the hints of nostalgia now.
You could hear the chatter even clearer now, even if their words were muddled.
The door to one of the larger practice rooms were left ajar, and though you only peered in, you felt the warmth hit you like a wave. Your throat was closing up againâbreatheâ
âHey,â you said into the room, catching quite a few eyes. From an initial scan, you determined that Changmin wasnât amongst the crush of people socializing in here, and you couldnât identify the feeling manifesting in the pit of your stomach.
Jungwoo was the first to bound over toward you, swiftly followed by Minho and Hyunjin, one of the Hwang siblings. âYn-ie! I canât believe you actually came. I thought Doyoung was joking.â
A smile made its way onto your lips and you accepted Jungwooâs side hug. âYeah, well Doyoung doesnât joke around.â
âHe really doesnât,â Hyunjin said with a grimace. âHeâs kind of scary, that one.â
âIf you can survive Minho,â you said to him, âthen you can survive Doyoung.â
Minho made a face at you. âWhat have I ever done to you, Yn?â
Nothing; this is just me trying to pretend Iâm not seconds away from quivering like a leaf in the wind. You laughed. âNothing yet. Guys, I'd like you to meet Sumin. Sheâs our new recruit at the Daily, and sheâs gonna be the one conducting interviews for the winter showcase this year.â
Sumin didnât need much prompting to smile and wave at your friends in that same charming way. âHi, nice to meet you!â
The three dancers before you replied in kind. Jungwoo offered to introduce her to some of the others in the room, and before you knew it, she was swept away.
Hyunjin made a comment about needing to go check up on a friend of his, leaving you and Minho chatting to the side of the room.
âWow,â Minho said offhandedly as the two of you watched Jungwoo and Sumin work their way around the room, âsheâs a natural at this. Whereâd Kim find this one?â
âShe saw some of our older issues,â you replied. You watched as Sumin ignited a sort of brightness in every conversation she started. You struggled to swallow; now that you didnât feel obligated to keep up appearances, especially in front of Sumin, your jitteriness was beginning to come on just a little stronger. You absentmindedly massaged your throat, willing it to loosen up.
Minho glanced over at you, his eyes catching your anxious actions. âMust have a lot of confidence in her if heâs throwing her straight into taking charge of interviews. Howâre you holding up?â The latter was said lowly and under his breath in case someone just happened to be close enough to catch onto your conversation.
Minho didnât know your history with the dance department as thoroughly as your close friends did, but it didnât take a genius to see that you werenât at your absolute best right now. You gave a stiff shrug. âIâm alright,â you managed to say.
He nodded, though it was probably more for your sake than him saying he believed you. âItâs funny,â he drawled, âone might think that by sending you here on behalf of the paper, that you were behind Opera Glasses.â
Now that, you could let out a genuine chuckle at.
Minho gauged your reaction but smiled to himself. He wasnât one to really care for the drama and gossip side that came privy to the performing arts review section, but you couldnât blame him if he was curious.
âThat would be really stupid if that was the case,â you mused.
âIt would be,â he agreed. âIs this a sign that this will be the end of Opera Glasses then? Finally a face to the name?â
You pursed your lips. âActually, Iâm not too sure what Doyoung will end up doing. Iâm sure heâll call for a board meeting to decide what the reviewâs fate will be, but itâs not exactly our top priorityââ
Your voice and words trailed off as your eyes met a pair coming into the practice room. You and Changmin froze at the sight of one another, two deer caught in headlights, and you felt your heart palpitate violently in your chest. Your breath left your lungsâhis expression was filled with surprise, until it morphed into something you couldnât read.
âWhat are you doing here?â He deadpanned.
Minhoâs eyebrows shot up. âYou didnât know Yn was stopping by? We all got the email from Director Lee, man.â
Changmin pressed his mouth together and it made the dimple in his cheek deepen. He looked you up and down, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but paused when you unconsciously brushed your thumb against the hollow of your throat. (Dear god, why couldnât you breathe? Breathe, breathe, breatheâ)
He seemed to lose whatever he was going to say. You swore the sharpness in his gaze softened.
But then his jaw tightened; you didnât know why. âI didnât think youâd actually show,â he muttered under his breath.
Ouch.
The words from his mouth pricked uncomfortably at the back of your mind. You found your voice again. âIâll be gone before you know it,â you replied tersely.
Your response touched a nerve for him, too. He cut his attention to the rest of the practice room. âWhereâs your new girl?â
âOver there,â you said, inclining your head across the room where Sumin and Hwang Yeji were currently swapping contact information. Something soared in your chest at the sight, but you couldnât tell if it was pride or envy.
Without any additional prompting, you watched Changmin make his way toward Sumin and away from you. You didnât realize you were holding in a breath until you finally exhaledâ
âYn! Sorry Iâm late.â Mark bumbled into the practice room, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead as he quite literally crashed against the wall next to you and Minho. He was panting and gasping for breath, and you and Minho couldnât help but express your amusement.
âItâs all cool, dude,â you assured while patting his head.
âI should probably get back to it,â Minho said as he began walking away from you and Mark. âNice to see you, Mark. Feel free to take a water bottle from the green room.â
Mark thumped his head against the wall with his eyes closed. âThanks, man,â he huffed.
With a snicker under his breath, Minho went his separate way.
You gave Mark a moment to catch a breath or two, and you slid down next to him against the practice room wall. Folding your knees up against your chest, you copied Markâs position with his head tilted back as you both inhaled through your nostrils and breathed out through slightly parted lips. While Mark might have been trying to get a moment of rest from (no doubt) running here from the bus stop, you were trying to steady yourself.
The anxiety was starting to make your hands feel numb cold.
âYou donât have to stay, yâknow,â came Markâs voice, followed by the back of his hand gently nudging your arm. When your eyes fluttered open, you found him already looking at you. âYou asked for my help; you can go take a breather outside and come back inâor maybe donâtâwhatever youâre comfortable with. This canât be easy.â
You were struggling to swallow again. One of your hands drummed messily against your kneecap. âItâsââ you shook your head, ââIâll be okay. Thanks for coming though.â
âYeah, dude. Of course.â
Something prodded at the side of your head, like someone was staring at you, but when you turned to see, it was just Changmin talking to Sumin. They were both smiling and making good conversation, it seemed.
You let out a sigh and closed your eyes again. Wishful thinking.
â âś
Mark stayed behind to âvibeâ with the remaining dancers still at the performing arts building while you and Sumin pushed out into the crisp, cool evening. Even after walking all the way to the bus station, your hands were still numb, and the cold definitely wasnât helping.
âHow do you feel about the dance interviews now?â You found yourself asking Sumin as the two of you sat on the bench at the station waiting for the bus to come pick the two of you up.
Sumin beamed. âI definitely feel a bit more secure about conducting them. Iâll definitely need some help with dance terminology and editing and stuff though.â
You nodded. âNo problem at all.â
âThe people are all really so chill and niceâŚâ Your eyes definitely werenât tricking you when you saw the bashfulness that her expression took on, and the little giggle you heard could not have been the wind. âEspecially Changmin.â
Ha. What.
A weight fell to the pit of your stomach. Maybe you were hearing things⌠âSorry?â
She blinked, and the blush on her cheekbones darkened. âOh, haha, itâs nothing! I just⌠he was really sweet, and he has a really pretty smile and stuffâdo youâuh, do you know if his previous dance showcase performances are online?â
(Something about that detailâhe has a really pretty smileârang a bell for you.)
It was really an innocent question, but you knew if Sumin went searching online for Changmin, and if she went deep enough, sheâd find you there, too. You sucked in a breath. âI canââ you winced inwardly, ââsend you some of his performances, if you want?â
You couldnât deny the warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest when Sumin practically lit up at your suggestion. âWould you? I would really appreciate it, Yn! Youâre the best.â
From your periphery, you saw the bus approach from down the street, and you gestured for the both of you to stand up and get your ID cards ready to board. You sent her a small smileâat least it felt good to help her out. You could pretend for a second that this was just a little crush or infatuation on some other colleague of yours that Sumin had. âYeah, no worries.â No worries at all.
EPISODE SIX: OFF THE [TOP OF YOUR] HEAD
FRIDAY night brought you, Seungkwan, and Doyoung to the hotpot place located in the university district. The three of you were the unconventional combination of your friends, but Kun and Ten were supposedly on their way over as of five minutes ago. Thus, with the last of your party nearing, the three of you deigned to begin ordering almost everything off the menuâjust to whet your appetites, of course.
Doyoung slumped down in his seat across from you and Seungkwan as soon as the waiter left to input your table's hefty order. "Ugggggggh."
Seungkwan snorted. "Ah, my favorite sound."
Doyoung passed him a dirty look over his lenses. "Is that sarcasm I hear, Boo Seungkwan?"
"I have no idea what you mean," he said with feigned innocence as he looked away and scratched the side of his head.
You chuckled to yourself, drawing your phone out from the inner pocket of your puffer jacket when you heard the series of buzzes. Your screen lit up with notifications from Sumin, all of them thanking you profusely for the spam of links you'd sent her way. These were on top of the videos you had dug up from your secret locked folder in your phoneâand here you were, wondering why in the world you were doing this to yourself and for her?
"I can't decide if I dread Doyoung's noises of discontent or your expressions of pain more," Seungkwan commented, effectively pulling your focus away from your phone.
Both of your friends were now looking at you, patiently awaiting your answer to what ailed you tonight. Where should you begin?
"I'm not in pain," you scoffed. You set your phone facedown on the table next to you to avoid looking at the notifications. Huh. "Did I look like I was in pain?"
Doyoung's smile was wide like his eyes as he nodded. "Yup," he chirped in that sweet sarcasm of his. "Like you'd just watched a video of someone stubbing their toe against a doorframe."
Seungkwan blinked. "That's soâspecific."
"You do not want to know what my For You Page looks likeâ"
You recreated the look of pain from earlier, holding your palm up. "Respectfully, Doie? I don't."
Seungkwan let out another snort of delight and had to hold a hand in front of his mouth.
Doyoung leveled a half-hearted scowl at you. "You're lucky I'm not your boss right now."
"As opposed to every other moment in time?"
"You have a mouth on you tonight."
"I do like to use it every so often," you quipped, the corner of your mouth lifting in an amused smirk.
Doyoung sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't get paid enough for this."
"You're literally not getting paid at allâ" Your words were sliced off at their end when you gaspedâit was all a blur: a mass of reddish-brown hair, your phone snatched from right in front of youâ "SEUNGKWAN!"
Seungkwan held his breath with an impish grin as he turned his back to you and shielded your phone from your attempts to get it back. "I just wanna see!" He said with a cackle. "Every time you've looked at your phone today, you looked like you wanted to fall into an abyss."
You glared at him, pulling away to cross your arms firmly over your chest. "You can't just steal my phone, dude!"
"What's so important on your phone anyway, Yn-ie?" Doyoung asked good naturedly, reaching for his glass of ice water. "You're usually not so attached to that thing."
Your lips snapped shut and you wondered if the heat creeping up to your face was obvious.
"You've been sending Changmin videos to Sumin?!" Seungkwan bursted out, his eyes so wide that you could see your reflection in his pupils. As you'd feared, Seungkwan still had his fingerprint registered into your phone from before (long story; don't ask), and had cracked the device open, as well as your most recently opened applicationâyours and Sumin's text messages.
You did nothing but stare at the table like you were getting war flashbacks, while Doyoung had even gotten up out of his seat to take a peek at your phone, too.
"I haven't even seen this video before," Seungkwan hissed as if you weren't right there.
You fixed them both with a stink eye, but at the same time, maybe this was for your benefit. They could help you without you actually asking for helpâ
Doyoung's face contorted into a laughable expression of shock (eyes wide, mouth wider, eyebrows pinched, nose wrinkled) as he viewed what Seungkwan had selected. "Oh my god. He's a child in this!"
"Actually he was a senior in high schoolâ" You slapped a hand over your mouth. Whoops.
Both of their heads whipped over toward you. "I thought you deleted all your high school shit!" They chorused together. If it had been any other situation or context, you might have laughed at the hilarity if it all.
Instead, you averted your gaze, making a show of looking for the waiter or maybe even Kun or Ten. What was taking them so long anyway?
"Yn," Seungkwan addressed with a tone akin to that of a parent on the verge of lecturing their child, "what in the name of god are you sending Sumin and why?"
Helpless, you held both your palms up in a sheepish shrug. "The kid has a crush on him, and being the best mentor figure ever, I⌠did some compiling for her." You paused, "Now that I say it out loud, it does sound pretty stupid."
Doyoung returned to his seat. "Ya think?"
You wrinkled your nose at him. "Hey! Sometimes, some of us have bad nights and we wanna feel something." Out of context, this was a really suspicious conversation.
"Isn't this just you torturing yourself?"
Seungkwan slapped his hand against the table, and both you and Doyoung startled. "That's it! I'm calling for an intervention."
Your mouth parted open. "Right now?"
He deadpanned at you. "No, when Kun and Ten get hereâof course, right now!"
You returned his deadpan expression. The adrenaline from all this back and forth was slowly fading, and what you were left with was something that felt like emptiness. So⌠now they knew.
Doyoung and Seungkwan exchanged looks with another from across the table, but it was the former who spoke first. "Why do you still have videos from back then, Yn-ie? I thought you told us you deleted them all?"
"I mean, we're not trying to be judgmental or anything," Seungkwan added firmly, but not unkindly, "they're your videos and photos, your past and memories, but⌠based on everything you've already told us before, wouldn't it be best to delete them?"
You didn't like the emptiness. The adrenaline had stripped you of energy and confidence when it faded. "I," you stammered, "I just⌠I couldn't bring myself to delete them." Your voice was quiet, almost inaudible compared to the liveliness of the hotpot shop around you and your friends. "I mean, how could I? Sometimes, I want to watch them and try to find the courage to say that I'm sorry first."
Yeah, you wanted to feel something. That "something" was actually a lot of thingsâcourage, happiness, nostalgia, anger, melancholy, love, passion, pride. A life and childhood you had lost; who's fault was it but your own? You felt nothing short of pathetic.
Seungkwan frowned deeply, his eyes softening. He leaned forward and drew you into his embrace, his hold warm and comforting. "Oh, Yn. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have pried like that."
You wrapped your arms around him, eyes shuddering closed. "Yeah, you shouldn't have."
He grunted into your shoulder, a noise of defiance and attitude.
Doyoung had a similar expression of sympathy present on his face. You didn't often see something like that from him, but after years of friendship and working together, you'd begun to see a lot more of him. "I'm sorry too, Yn. It probably still hurts, and I know I was probably really insensitive when I asked you to introduce Sumin to the dance departmentâ"
"Hey guys! Sorry we're late."
Everyone jolted at the sight of Kun and Ten arriving at your table. Kun sent Ten a sharp look along with a sharp jab with his elbow for interrupting. Kun shot you an apologetic look. "Sorry, we didn't interrupt anything, did we?"
You shook your head as Seungkwan pulled away. Doyoung and Seungkwan were both looking to you to make the decision of whether or not you would let Kun and Ten in on the prior conversation.
No, you didn't want to put a damper on dinner any longer. "Ah, no worries. We were just⌠discussing a couple work things. What took you guys so long?"
Luckily, no one (namely Ten) called you out and the two newcomers slid into their respective seats. Dinner would arrive soon, and you could fill your belly with something other than negative thoughts for once.
â âś
boss bunny: hey, i didn't get a chance to say this earlier, but i'm so sorry for expecting u to introduce sumin to the dance dept
boss bunny: i didn't think at all abt how that might trigger u, and i still want u to know that u can back out whenever u feel uncomfortable. seriously.
your phone: it's okay, doyoung. i get it, i really do. and i promise that it didn't feel like u were forcing me or assuming that i would do it either
your phone: i knew it would probably trigger me like this too, but i kind of really wanted to be someone's mentor yk? it just⌠called to me ig
your phone: sounds kind of sad lol
boss bunny: nonono! not at all :( i understand that too
boss bunny: i admire ur strength, yn
your phone: DOIE đĽş
boss bunny: âŚokay love u and all, but let's not use that emoji yeah? T-T
your phone: okay wtv 𤧠now stop texting cuz ten is starting to realize ur not slick at this
boss bunny: AM TOO. >:(
â âś
"He kept looking at his phone and then at you, like, every five seconds," Ten giggled, his shoulder absentmindedly brushing against yours as the two of you strolled side by side through the numbing cold night. Dinner had concluded just about half an hour ago, and while Kun ferried Doyoung and Seungkwan home, you and Ten decided to head down a few blocks to get milk tea and hang out.
You clapped your hands together in delight, your laughter lighting up the night. âThatâs what Iâm saying! He just wasnât subtle about it and he kept arguing with me that he was.â You shook your head, tongue darting out to lick your lips, âItâs okay though. I think Dad Doyoungâs antics are charming.â
Ten grinned. âDad Doyoung? I think heâs more of an uncle; âDadâ is Kunâs title.â
âFair enough.â
âAyo, Ten!â
Both yours and Tenâs heads whipped upward at the sound of his name being called. You didnât actually recognize the voice, but when you saw the lineup of four young men coming toward you from the opposite end of the street, you didnât need to recognize it. Because, well, you recognized their faces.
Huh, you had been running into Changmin and his like a lot more often recently.
Heading straight for you was Changmin, Chanhee, Juyeon, andâyou thought his name was Kevin. Kevin was the one who had called out to Ten, and he waved excitedly over to your friend. Based on Changminâs not-so-subtle frown at Kevin, you could assume that this was not expected. Maybe he was going to advocate crossing the whole street to avoid you.
âOh, hey Kev!â Ten greeted back cheerily, glancing at you beside him. âDo you know Kevin and Juyeon?â
You bobbed your head. âBriefly,â you replied. The two of your groups met in the middle, two blockades in the smack middle of the sidewalk. Impromptu meetups like this always seemed to end up clogging up the sidewalk for some reason.
After a swift greeting, Chanhee was already gesturing to the direction his group had already been headed in. âHey, Iâll probably run up the street and get us a table. Haknyeonie says the tables fill up fast after eight oâclock.â
Juyeon perked up. âOh, Iâll come with!â
Chanhee made eye contact with Changmin from across the group, and a silent form of communication passed between them. You watched this happen quietly, standing to the side with your hands tucked into your pockets while Ten and Kevin caught up from the last time they saw each other (apparently, it was a drawing and painting course from last quarter). However, instead of leaving with Chanhee and Juyeon, Changmin lingered with the three of you.
He naturally came to stand semi-close to you since he wasnât exactly a part of the âdrawing and paintingâ conversation. The frown from earlier had disappeared, though, and you didnât know if you could call that a win or not.
Perhaps to you, the tension between the two of you was palpable. There were⌠far too many things up in the air at this moment, and it was nearly impossible for you to figure out just one thing to start with.
Plus, now was no time to get into all of that baggage. You needed to finish that intervention with Doyoung and Seungkwan before you could handle that kind of conversationâat least, that was what you would have preferred.
But for now, you found yourself clearing your throat and sparing him a glance. âHey.â
Changminâs eyes darted over to yours in ill-concealed surprise. âHey.â
And that was that.
Luckily, Ten nor Kevin dragged on their conversation longer than it needed to be, and soon, you and Ten were passing by Kevin and Changmin as both parties went their separate ways. (You were going to pretend that you hadnât looked back to watch Changmin walk away. Definitely not.)
âAll good?â Ten asked, though, his voice was quieter than it had been before.
You could meet his eyes and nod. âYeah.â
Ten followed up with an idle sort of humming noise, like he was one of those really loud computer fans (what in the world led you to think of thatâ?), âA few days ago, I kind of asked Changmin what the deal between the two of you was.â
âOh?â Nervousness bubbled up the column of your throat. âWhatâd he say?â
He gave a shrug. âSomething like a long-standing grudge.â
You let out a laugh that didnât exactly sound like a laugh. âWell, I guess thatâs one way to put it.â Was that how you would put it? In a way, that was what it was, but there was so much more to that, wasnât there? Did Changmin think so little of what transpired between the two of you or was he just trying to deflect Tenâs interrogation?
The two of you had arrived at the tea shop by now, and Ten opened the door for you. The shopâs insides were warm and bright, and the tables were already filled up with fellow students who decided to hang out with friends on their Friday evening. You and Ten shifted over to the self-order kiosks to the side of the room and continued your conversation in low volumes.
âHow would you put it then?â He asked. When you looked over at him, you realized that there was something scarily disarming about his eyes. âNo pressure, of course. I mean, you can call me out on being nosy whenever; I figured it wouldnât hurt to ask.â
You pursed your lips as you turned back to the screen to absentmindedly swipe down the page to find your preferred order. On the inside, you fought for the right words. âChangmin and I were best friends since we were kids,â you started, inputting your preferred level of sugar and ice like clockwork, âand we met through dance.â
Ten nodded to signal he was still listening, and the two of you swapped places so he could input his order.
You cracked your knuckles and rubbed your palms together to generate some kind of heat between them. âI didnât really like dance at first. It was just one of those things my parents put me in to occupy my time after school and while they were working. But⌠well, you know how Changmin is with danceâit was and is his livelihood.â
âEven then?â
A nod. âEven then.â
When your orders were paid for, the two of you moved to a quiet corner of the shop to wait for your number to be called from the counter. You leaned your side against the wall next to Ten, your eyes staring blankly at a crack in the floor. âHe was actually the reason I grew to love dancing,â you confessed. âAs we got older and went into high school, sneaking out to practice together and performing together on stage became as easy as breathing air and as normal asâŚâ You shook your head. âIt was just a lot easier I think, back then.â
Ten tilted his chin toward you. âWhat happened between you two, Yn?â
You swallowed roughly. âIn my first year of high school, my parents got divorced. I always suspected it would happen, but my mom kind of changed after that.â Your eyebrows crinkled as you recalled the memories of your early teenage years and tried to grapple with an adequate way to express them aloud. âAnd, to be fair, the more I danced, the more I didnât want to focus on school work, but my mom became really hard on me about all that and I started to crack down on that stuff.
âEventually, she got tired of taking me to dance practices and shows, and she blew up at me about how useless dance was going to be if I was going to become a doctor or something like that.â
Ten heard your number being called and nudged you to follow after him. He handed you your drink, and the two of you pushed back out into the chilly night. You didnât really know where you were trying to go, but you didnât really care. You both ended up in one of the small parking lots squeezed between two fast food restaurants, and you sat yourself down on the curb.
You continued, âAnd so, she would purposely forget to come home in time to take me to competitions and rehearsals. By the time I realized she wasnât coming, I was already late every time. I would start walking myself there and taking the bus instead. Changmin started noticing that I was slacking, but IâŚâ
âHe didnât know?â
âNo.â You didnât want him to know. Maybe it was your stupid pride that was preventing you from admitting that aloud. Maybe you were ashamed that your mom wasn't as accepting of dance as his parents were. You let out a shuddering breath and watched it come out in a visible puff in front of your face. âShe made me grow spiteful toward dance,â you said stiffly. âI would be trying to stretch or practice movement in my bedroom while studying for exams, and she would come in and berate me.â
The yelling echoed in your mind, all too vividly. Your mother never physically hurt you, but there were still scars. âSheâd discourage me from rehearsals or signing up for competitions by telling me I was nowhere near good enough, that dancing wasnât going to put food on the table, and that I wasââ A complete disappointment. You could pick those exact words out of a line up.
Tenâs eyes glistened with silver in the amber glow of the streetlight above you. âJesus, Yn. Iâm so sorry; thatâsâthatâs awful.â
You didnât know how to accept the sympathy, even after having received so much from your other friends already. No matter how many times you retold your story, it was never quite right or in the way your brain wanted to portray it. You didnât want to portray anyone as the villain; you figured that maybe you could have done something back then to prevent this. (You couldnât have, actually, and that was the most difficult part to accept.)
âYeah,â you murmured, setting your drink on the ground as you curled in on yourself slightly. âAnyway, by senior year, Changmin was obviously really into dance and was probably really stressed about auditions and end-of-the-year competitions. We basically⌠we basically took out our anger on each other. He said some things, I said some things. The rest is history.â
It was quiet for a moment as you let the words sink into the open air. Your chest loosened a bit after being able to tell another person about it, but for the most part, your hands still trembled. You reached for your drink again to take a sip and to force some kind of liquid down your throat.
After a while, Ten piped up, âYn⌠I hope you know that you are not whoever your mother was trying to make you believe you were. Youâve probably realized that alreadyâor maybe youâre still working on itâbut please know that youâre probably one of the strongest people I know. It must have been really hard for you and IâŚâ He exhaled, âSorry, Iâve never been great at this.â
You sent him a small smile in return. âItâs okay; I still appreciate it.â After a beat, you added, âI know I act like I hate him, but I still want to see him succeed. I canât think that ill of him, especially when he wasnât the only one at fault.â
âAh, thatâs why âitâs complicatedâ, huh? I get that.â
âYeah.â Your handsâgod, if they could just stop shakingâ
Ten reached over and covered your hands with one of his, and you let the heat of his palm warm yours. âYouâre doing great, Yn. You know that, right?â
You couldnât choke out an answer to that. You could only really say, âI just miss him sometimes.â
A sad smile. âI know. Maybe he does, too.â
You wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, at that. Anyone who got in the way of Changminâs passions was no one to him. You would know exactly how that felt.
EPISODE SEVEN: [ROLLS RIGHT] OFF THE TONGUE
WHENEVER Changmin was feeling unsure of himself, he would retreat to his safe space: the practice rooms. Even if it was some time in the ungodly morning, like 2am as it was now, he would make the trek beneath molten gold streetlights and barren cobbled streets. It was the one place where he could focus his energy solely on dance, and forget about everything else.
Once upon a time, it had been your safe space just as much as it was his.
Changmin huffed a sigh as he hiked up the remaining flight of stone stairs that led up to the backdoor area of the performing arts building. It was a handful of hours since he and Chanhee parted ways with Kevin and Juyeon after enjoying dinner together. Chanhee was probably dead asleep by nowâhe was probably going to wake up and continue studying for his exams anyway.
As he turned to his right, his breath hitched as he caught sight of someone standing right outside the door. Usually, he had no trouble getting in and security wasnât exactly strict in this area of campus. In fact, he almost never bumped into anyone, as strange as it sounded. Maybe he should have counted his blessings.
But then he recognized your jacket from earlier this evening, the very same one you were wearing while walking next to Tenâpractically squished up against each other, two peas in a pod. He didnât like how irked he was by that detail. He still couldnât wrap his head around the fact that you had said âheyâ first.
You werenât looking at him, rather, your body was completely turned toward the door as if you were trying to decide whether or not you should go in. You were as still as a statue, frozen in time.
The moment, however, faded as quickly as it had come. You must have sensed his presence, and your head whipped around to face him.
There.
His heart leapt into his throatâdear god, why did you look so afraid? And then he noticed that you werenât frozen still, but rather, channeling all your energy into keeping your body from trembling. Were you cold? What were you doing here so late? Why werenât you with Ten?
He watched your throat move as you gulped. And then you were walking toward himâno, past himâwait, come backâ âSo thatâs it?â
The grip he had on his duffle bag strap tightened when you stopped next to him just as you were going to walk past him toward the stairs. Your gazes clashed like a pair of twin lightning bolts slicing through the night sky. There had always been a sort of energy between the two of you, and when you were young, he had been so very attracted to that kind of power, one so similar to his⌠he didnât think he was mistaken back then.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â You said, still there. Your voice was low, but he could detect the edge.
He didnât know what it was supposed to mean; he just didnât want you to leave without knowing why you were here. Were you looking for him? âYouâre not gonna say anything to me? Why are you here?â
(He swore it wasnât supposed to come out that brusque-sounding, but he also didnât know what it was supposed to come out sounding likeâŚ? He felt like he didnât know you anymore.)
There was a narrowing of your eyes, and you both angled your bodies to face one another like a standoff. âNo one said I had anything to say to you. And Iââ You tripped over your words, ââI donât know why Iâm here. Thatâs why I was leaving.â
Oh.
Why was he disappointed by that answer?
âSo youâre not here with Ten or something?â He asked, unsure what else he could say to keep you here, even for just a couple seconds longer.
Your mouth curled. "Clearly not. Why are you so pressed about me and Ten?"
Changmin pressed his lips together. "I'm not." Okay. Very believable.
The face you made said the same thing. "Okay, yeah. I didn't expect you to care so much anyway."
For a reason he loathed to admit, anger spiked in his blood and he felt the distinct need to defend himself. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know," you replied sarcastically, your volume rising, "maybe it's that you've never really cared that much about things that concerned me in the first place?"
"Now that's rich coming from you."
Your glare pierced his. "Oh, please. As soon as I started slackingâgod, it took so little for you to just abandon me."
His jaw fell slack. Where the fuck did this conversation just turn to? "Abandon you? You abandoned me!" He exclaimed, finger flicking between the two of you as if he could impale both of your chests with the sharp edge of his accusations.
"How could I have possibly been the one to abandon you?" Your face contorted with so much more emotion than Changmin had ever seen from you over the past three years. Suddenly, he could see the underlying desperation and devastation hidden beneath the lines of bitterness and anger. His heart sank, but his blood still boiled and pumped. He couldn't get the distinctly awful hole in his chest to stop aching. He could remember exactly when you just stopped coming to practice with him. He could remember exactly the day he gave up hope.
"Youâ" you stammered, your hand flying to your throat. It was the same action he had seen from you just a few days ago while you were in the practice room. He recognized it as a habit of yours for when you were anxious or overwhelmed because your throat closed in on itself. If that wasn't enough to make him want to lay down his sword⌠"âyou stopped caring. When did you stop caring? I just want to know."
Everything went silent for him, just for a split second. You thought⌠you thought he stopped caring? How could he ever stop caring about you? Wasn't that why he was so upset in the first place?
And when the world zapped back into play, he was sure his skin was ashen. His throat bobbed. "How could you think so little of me?"
Your forehead creased. "Little? Changmin, you were everything to me."
Dear heartâ
You were shaking your head and taking a step away from him then. "You couldn't possibly understand."
Just like that, there was fire in his veins again. "That's because you never gave me a chance to understand!"
You threw a look back at him and again, he could read everything there like an open book, so much unlike the wall he had been met with all this time. "And I can say the exact same thing about you. If you think I kept things from you, Ji Changminâ" you said with the undertone of a snarl, so fierce that, as you turned on your foot to face him again, your breath came out like that of a dragon's smoke, "âthen how much have you kept from me?"
His nostrils flared and his hands gestured wildly, vaguelyâhe pressed his palms to his eyes with a haggard sigh. "Why are you here, Yn?" He asked again, finally. He lowered his hands and took a step toward you. "Are you here just to pick a fight with me?"
You paused.
He watched you open your mouth, then close it.
You pursed your lips, finally murmuring, "No. I didn't come here for you."
For some reason, that hurt even more.
â âś
The practice room was colder than it usually was.
Changmin kept the lights dim for the sake of his stinging eyes, and he dumped his duffle bag in the corner of the room before making a beeline for the aux cord for the speaker system. He hooked up his phone and opened up his music files, his forehead pressing against the cool mirror wall.
For a moment, he simply let his eyes flutter shut and his lungs to breathe.
You were long gone by now, and Changmin considered just going back to his apartment, but he knew he would just lie in bed awake for hours if he did.
When he opened his eyes, he swiped out of his music and instead went to a file kept deep down in the depths of his storage. He had purposely named it so it would remain at the absolute bottom of the list when alphabetized, and the pass code on it was supposed to dissuade him from accessing it.
Supposed to.
He punched in the four digits of your birthday and the lock clicked open to reveal a hefty file of video after video. There were photos of you, too, somewhere, but the videos were all at the top of the file because of their size. He didn't know what he was gonna do when his phone ran out of storage; he figured that when that day came, it would either be when you and he finally figured shit out, or he got closure and could delete them all.
He sighed.
His thumb hovered over one of the video files near the top, one where he could see your face in the thumbnail.
When he opened it, his younger face filled the screen. His tongue poked out from his lips as he carefully settled his phone against the wall next to yours as both of your phones recorded the run-through that was about to happen.
"Changminnie! Come on, I'm starting the song!" Your voice echoed against the practice room walls, and his laughter soon followed as he scurried into place next to you.
Changmin watched his younger self transform his expression into something more serious, while you had looked at him through the mirror and burst out laughing.
Younger Changmin broke his facade, the dimples in his cheeks deep, his smile bright. "What?"
You grinned back at him. "Sorry, sorry! Nothing; it's just interesting how you can just shift your facial expression like that."
"You have to practice like you perform though!"
"I know, I know. I just like your smile better, y'know?"
Changmin could see the hearts in his younger self's eyes. Jesus, had he really blushed that hard? Younger Changmin cupped the back of his neck bashfully. "Really?"
You punched his arm playfully. "Yeah. It's really pretty, Changmin. I thought I told you this before."
"Well yeah, but it doesn't hurt to hear it againâyah! Hey, I can bite back, you knowâ!"
Changmin's eyes shuddered as the familiar melody of the song flowed into his ears. He abruptly slammed his thumb down onto the pause button.
No, he couldn't stomach hearing it. Not when he could recall every move from memory and not when he had no partner to complement those moves. It just reminded him of the gaping hole in his chest and the emptiness of this room.
"Let's get to work, Changmin," he muttered to himself as he swiped out of the folder and back to his music files. He had an actual to-do list in mind, after all, and it did not include a dive into the forbidden folder. (No matter how much he needed to hear your voice again, for once, not arguing with him.)
EPISODE EIGHT: OFF THE HOOK
"HE'S been pissy all morningâ"
Changmin suppressed a groan of frustration as he heard his friend's voices nearing the dressing room he was in. All morning, the performing arts building had been a madhouse, even worse than the night of the draft showcase. Everyone just decided to be here today, whether they were his fellow dancers trying to score a practice room, one of the prospective actors auditioning for a part in Hyunjae's best friend's thesis play, or one of the tech members trying to make sure everything worked behind the scenes.
Changmin had gone from room to room in an attempt to find an empty one where he could have some peace in working on his own. He would have just gone home at this point, but Chanhee was stressing over his own exams, so Changmin was stuck here.
So taking all of that into account, including the rough encounter he'd had with you a couple days ago, plus a lack of sleep and coffeeânot the happiest squirrel on campus.
(How could you just drop a bomb like "You were everything to me, Changmin" in his lap and expect him not to think of anything else for days on end?)
The door to the dressing room he was hiding in cracked open, and all of the cacophony from the outside flooded in, as well as a crush of his friends.
"Don't you guys have class?" Changmin moaned, his hand coming up to rub his sleep-deprived eyes.
"Well, yeah, but this is much more fun," came Younghoon's teasing chuckle as he walked over to Changmin and clasped a hand on his shoulder.
Changmin made a face. "I just wanted some peace and quiet."
Sunwoo scoffed. "Peace and quiet? You've come to the wrong place, hyung."
"Yeah," Hyunjae added on, "might as well take a break for once and come watch auditions with us! HJ!Yn needs help judging people anyway."
Changmin cocked a brow at the blond. "You should call Chanhee for that then. Shouldn't you be out there, Younghoon?" He nodded toward the tall, lanky drama major present.
Younghoon shook his head, bouncing on the balls of his feet. How did he have so much energy? "Nope. I'm auditioning for a part, so she's gatekeeping me from watching."
Changmin turned from his friends slightly as he reached down for his phone that he had situated on top of the small bluetooth speaker he had the good sense to bring. Then again, maybe he should have just stuck to earbuds⌠whatever. He was too tired to care. Part of him wanted to add to the chaos anyway.
"What's her thesis play about again?" He asked no one in particular. Sunwoo waddled over to him and stole his phone right from his hands and began browsing through the music selection.
"It's a modern take of one of Shakespeare's plays: Much Ado About Nothing," answered Younghoon. "It was really funny actually, like the original play. Lots of matchmaking, lots of stupidity. I think they dump someone in a lake..."
Hyunjae perked up. "Oh yeah! That was probably my favorite part of the whole script."
Changmin chuckled. "I was expecting you to say something like 'the whole thing's my favorite because my best friend wrote it'."
"Oh, no, that still applies."
Changmin, Sunwoo, and Younghoon all exchanged knowing looks with one another. Mhm⌠so they thought. There were a few too many in their friend group who had interesting relationships with their other friends. Exhibit A: whatever the fuck was happening with Hyunjae and his.
Hyunjae caught their silent communication and furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"
Sunwoo snorted, but Younghoon was the one to drawl, "It's absolutely nothing."
Changmin pressed his lips into a cheeky smile, brushing the bangs from out of his vision. Hyunjae's lips quirked to the side in a frown, but didn't make any comment on it. It wasn't a new reaction from the group, by any means, but⌠oh well. That would be a tale for another time.
With that being said, Changmin followed the three of them out of the relative privacy of the dressing room and out into the hustle-bustle of the main backstage corridor. As soon as that dressing room was vacated, however, somebody was swift to occupy it. Changmin cursed inwardly; guess he wouldn't be able to come back to that room later.
With the switching of theater leadership over the past year (a changing of the guard, if you would, but with professors and sponsors), the management of the entire performing arts department was a mess and a half. There were a few stand-out graduate students and undergraduates who were keeping everything in check for all of the events happening over this yearâlike Hyunjaeâs best friend, Lee Jihoon (a graduate student specializing in sound and music production), and Moon Taeil (a graduate who was a soloist in the chamber choir).
As the four young men made their way closer to the immediate backstage, the sound miraculously dulled down. The lights were a lot dimmer here, as the spotlights were turned toward the main stage. Changmin spotted a few people scattered throughout the backstage area with phones or folded script packets in their hands as they recited their lines to themselves, with some even making exaggerated facial expressions and grand hand gestures.
Hyunjaeâs best friend was one of the up and coming director-screenwriter âprodigiesâ that the drama department championed. She was a year older than Changmin was, and he didnât need to be a genius to know that there were a crowd of people vying for a role in her graduating thesis play. It must have been stressful as fuck, but he knew that she had a good head on her shouldersâ
ââIâm gonna stop you right there.â
HJ!Ynâs voice resounded from the other side of the hefty velvet curtains separating the backstage from the main stage. Hyunjae made a show of pressing his index finger to his lips to signal his friends to be quietâSunwoo thus made a show of rolling his eyes (âDuh, weâre gonna be quiet.â). They all huddled to the side of the curtain and poked their heads out to see what was going on.
The university performing arts hall was likely one of the most magnificent places on campus. It featured a vast array of floor seating, while also boasting three levels of balcony seats. Changmin remembered once briefly learning the anatomy of the theater seating: the floor or nosebleeds, the slightly lofted box seats, the grand circle, loge circle, and upper circleâthe gods. It was all very antiquarian, but it was a place Changmin had become quite familiar with over the years.
The director herself sat in the dimmed nosebleeds section, in the smack middle. Someone had dragged out one of those plastic, foldable tables for her to set her paperwork and a small, battery-operated lamp on top of.
Curiously, sitting next to her was none other than Bae Sumin, your new recruit.
Changmin straightened, accidentally bumping into Younghoonâs shoulder as he did. âSorry,â he whispered.
Younghoon shook his head to say that it was all good, his hand lifted in acknowledgement.
âDid you know Sumin was here?â He asked his friend.
Younghoonâs expression was thoughtful. âI think so? I left to go find you when I thought I heard someone say they saw her come in. Why? Did she not tell you when the dance department interviews were gonna be held?â
Changmin recalled receiving no notice. âNo. IâI figured Yn would be here, too, then. Right?â Was he ready to face you again so soon? Would you even acknowledge him this timeâ?
Younghoon passed him an amused glance with a small smile fitted over his face. âThat would make sense,â he murmured with his arms crossed over his chest. One of his hands reached up to idly massage his jaw. âIâd imagine she would be with her friends, somewhere around here. Though, it would also make sense that she would be sitting with Sumin, too. Then againââ
âYou are⌠no help,â Changmin deadpanned.
His friend chuckled lowly, eyes upturned into slim crescents.
âUh Jihoon-ah?â
Changmin and Younghoonâs attention flitted over towards the far side of the backstage and they watched as a girl chased after the resident sound producer graduate student. He was, perhaps, smaller than one might anticipate from the intimidating man, but he still harbored so much scary energy and talent within his body. Like all of the staff on the technical team, the pair were clad in all black.
Jihoon glanced up from his clipboard and at the girl. âHm?â
The girl nodded toward the curtains. âDirector is calling for a break and is asking if the house lights can be turned on.â
âAh okay, come on then. Follow me.â
As the two of them strode across the length of the backstage, the girlâs eyes found Changmin and Younghoon, and⌠She was looking past him now at someone else. She lifted her hand in a small wave, paired with a smile, âHi, Sunwoo.â
Changmin whipped his head around, only to realize that Hyunjae had disappeared, but Sunwoo was now standing on Changminâs other side. He watched in utter delight as his younger friend flushed, even in the dim lighting, at the girlâs greeting. His eyes were wide as he squeaked out a quick, âHey!â in return.
When Jihoon and his charge had gone out of view, Changmin turned on Sunwoo with a hyena cackle. âOh my god! Who was that, Kim Sunwoo?â
Sunwoo seemed to shrink into the collar of his hoodie. âNo one.â
Changminâs laughter lit up the room just as the house lights thunk-thunk-thunkâd to life. Younghoon had slipped away, most likely to meet Hyunjae in the nosebleeds, which left only the two of them there alone. âDo you have a crush on her?â
âYah! Youâre such a menace,â Sunwoo groaned, whacking Changmin with the extra length of his sweater paw. âYou canât even talk, dude! Youâre in love with a girl who can barely stand to be in the same roomââ Sunwoo realized his slip up and slapped a palm over his mouth.
Ouch. The truth hurt, didnât it? Changmin chuckled, though it was noticeably quieter now. âWell, youâre not wrongââ He shook his head, eyebrows creased together, ââwait, no. Wait, Iâm not in love with her!â
Sunwoo rolled his eyes so hard he must have seen his brain up there. âOh, please. The last time you were drunk and emotional, you showed us that secret little folder in your phone.â He jabbed his finger accusingly at the phone in Changminâs hand.
Changmin scowled, pressing his phone to his chest as if to protect it in case Sunwoo decided to have wandering hands. âThat was told to you in confidence!â
âNo, it was told to me in a drunken stuporââ The two of them began to make their way back toward the edge of the curtain, ducking out from its shadow and onto the main stage. Hyunjae and Younghoon were indeed in the nosebleeds now, but Sumin was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had only been here to observe the audition process. âAnd you guys say Iâm the lightweight.â
âThatâs because you are the lightweight.â
Just as the two of them hopped down from the stage and onto the ground floor of seats, Juyeon came in from the doors located at the back of the seats. He raised a hand in greeting to all present, cheerfully waving with that golden retriever-esque grin. âHey guys! Oh, Changminnie, I was just looking for you.â
Sunwoo retreated into the rows up where Hyunjae and Younghoon were, while Changmin met up with Juyeon in the rightmost aisle.
Juyeon threw a thumb behind him toward the direction he had just come from. âSumin was asking if you would be willing to do your interview right now.â
His eyes widened slightly. âRight now?â
âThatâs what I just said, wasnât it?â
Changmin pressed his lips together, before nodding. âUh, for sure. Yeah, lead the way.â
The two dancers hiked their way back up to the back of the area and through the door Juyeon had originally entered through. The main lobby was much less crowdedâit was practically barren, which made it the perfect environment to conduct an interview in. Sumin was setting herself up at one of the couches, setting her laptop, phone, and coffee cup on the coffee table opposite to her.
She raised her head when she heard the door open and close, and a bright smile graced her features. âOh, you found him! Thanks, Juyeonie.â
âYeah, no problem,â he chirped. âIâve got a couple things to handle first, but just ask someone to come find me once you and Changmin are done.â
With Juyeon swiftly taking his leave, Changmin was left to take a seat on the other end of the couch that Sumin was sitting at. âHey, nice to see you again, Sumin,â he said, crossing one ankle over the other and resting his arm along the back of the couch.
The corners of her smile widened. âNice to see you, too, Changmin! Sorry this was so sudden; I figured that I could get started on some of the interviews while I was here.â
âOh, yeah, no worries,â he chuckled.
She reached for her phone, fidgeting as she swiped to a simple recording application. âI hope you donât mind me recording thisâŚ?â At his consent, she nodded. âOkay, cool. I did wanna say something before we started.â
He sat up just a bit. âWhat is it?â
There was a sort of twinkle in her eyes, and if he wasnât mistaken, her manner became a lot more bashful all of a sudden. âI have to confess that I asked my mentor, Yn, if she could send me some of your dance performance videos and Iâm literally in awe of your talent. Like, I wanted to tell you how starstruck I am just being able to tell you this right now, but I just wanted to say this before we started.â
He broke into a boyish grin at this, his dimples becoming craters of joy in the apples of his cheeks. âAh, thank youâthat really means a lot,â he smiled.
Sumin added on, one of her palms pressing against the couch cushion as she leaned toward him slightly, âI mean, I donât even know how Yn was able to find videos of you from high school, but Iâm so glad she did, becauseââ
Wait what. Changmin was watching Suminâs mouth move as she talked but he wasnât truly hearing what she said. His humble, albeit a bit dumbfounded, smile remained, but her words from just before resonated in his head. There were definitely a few of his dance performance videos online from his high school days, but did you keep links to them? Did you keep the recordings on your phone?
The fact that Sumin asked you meant that she probably had no clue about your past, only that you were the person Sumin could rely on if she had any questions.
What did it mean? What did it mean?
His heart pounded in his chest at the thought that maybe he could possibly have an excuse to get you to talk to him, even if it was one, truly dumbass excuse.
ââready?â
Changmin snapped out of his dazed state. âSorry?â
Sumin blushed slightly, clearing her throat. At some point, she had pulled her laptop onto her lap and prepped her phone by placing it in between the two of them to record the following conversation. âAre you ready to start?â
He coughed, straightening and adjusting his position. âOh, yeahâuh, sorry. Yeah, whenever youâre ready.â
Sumin gauged his reaction carefully, but instead of pressing the record button, she hit the power button. âIf I may, you seem a little distracted. I donât really want this to feel like a burden if youâve got a lot on your plate.â
Shit. âNo, I mean,â he shook his head, âIâm sorry. I guess my mind just wanders really easily whenâŚâ He huffed a sigh, dragging a hand down his face. âIâm a little tired, thatâs all.â
âI totally get that,â she sympathized. âYouâve probably been practicing non-stop lately for the winter showcase. We donât have to do this today if youâre not in the right headspace.â
He sighed and couldnât help but feel just a little relieved. He needed to talk to Chanhee about this, math exam or dance practice be damned. But there was a part of him that definitely felt awful about having to cut off her interview even before it began. He gestured to her phone. âHow about we reschedule? We could meet up sometime else during the week to redo this and I promise Iâll be all yours.â
He didnât know what he did, but the pink on her cheeks deepened to a cherry red. âOh, uh, sure!â She giggled, taking her phone and passing it over to him. âYou can just put your phone number in there and Iâll text you to ask when you wanna meet up.â
Changmin nodded his agreement and swiftly inputted his contact information into the given slots. âDefinitely,â he said before handing her phone back to her. The phone fumbled between the two of them, but Changmin was already standing up with the goal to go retrieve his bag (wherever it was), and to go consult Chanhee and the manâs infinitesimal opinions. âReally sorry again, Sumin.â
âYeah, donât worry about it!â She dismissed his worries with a flick of her wrist. âWould you mind finding Juyeon, though?â
Changmin sent her a thumbâs up over his shoulder on his way to the door. âYeah, for sure.â
She returned the gesture, watching as he disappeared out of the main lobby. It was only when he was definitely gone, she covered her mouth with her hand and stared at his saved contact in her phone. Then, with a silent scream of happiness, she ran to her text chain with you to tell you all about it.
a/n: PLS STILL REBLOG THIS PART EVEN THO ITS NOT THE FULL THING PLS PLS PLS IM BEGGING
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Summary: Beomgyu comes over after a long day at practice, and all he wants is to do is satisfy the craving heâs had since he woke up this morning.Â
Oneshot
Smut, PWP, Idol au, Friends with benefits (more?) au
Warnings: Eater & Long haired! Beomgyu (my beloved), Dom! Beomgyu, Hair pulling (m! receiving), Oral (r! receiving), Multiple rounds even after reader blackouts, Somnophillia (Reader blackouts from the number of orgasms Beom puts them through <3), Clit Stimulation, Cum tasting and eating (Endless), *Aftercare*, Use of pet names: Baby *And if I missed anything pls lmk*
Word Count: 1,638
Beomgyu X Afab! ReaderÂ
If you are a minor, please do not read/engage with this post. This is an 18+ work.
------
You were busy doing nothing but lazing in your bed, rotting away just as you planned when you hear your front door jingle. You donât think much of it because thereâs only three other people with a key. One being your roommate, and the other two being your close friends. Well, âcloseâ for the one that was currently unlocking your door was an understatement. Friends with benefits would be a closer term, but even that fell short.Â
You hear him kicking off his shoes after he locks the front door before he strolls through your living room, and you continue playing on your phone without a care. He knocks on your door, âCan I come in?â You happily agree, looking up as he comes in, looking like he just got off of a long shift. âHi, beom. You tired?â He shrugs, âNot reallyâŚâ You tilt your head in confusion expecting him just to land on your bed and nap like he usually does after a long day at practice. And thatâs when he drops to his knees at the foot of your bed. You raise your eyebrows at him knowing exactly what he wants, but you still wait for him to ask, âPleeaasseee let me eat you out.âÂ
You hum, âI was planning to just laze around BeomâŚâ His eyes are doe like as he stares up at you, âI promise you wonât have to do anything⌠I just want to taste you⌠PleaseâŚâ You hum, âNothing?â He shakes his head, âIâve craved you since I woke up this morning, and god⌠I need to eat you out so bad.â Your cheeks slightly burn at that, but you hum, before you nod your head at him and he immediately grabs your legs pulling you to him before he pulls off your pajama pants. You tell him softly, âI didnât shaveâŚâ He groans, âFuck, even better.â And you canât help the surge of heat that courses through you at that. He spreads your legs before he kisses up your thighs, âMy pretty babyâŚâ His eyes close as he kisses along your thighs, humming happily to himself causing shivers to run up your spine as he grows closer to where youâre beginning to crave him.Â
But you decide to continue to rot away and play on your phone, pretending that the way heâs caressing you doesnât affect you at all. That you were genuinely not going to react and just scroll through tiktok. And at first, it works, even with his breath tickling you, you happily scroll listening to different life stories and tiktok edits. Until you find an edit of him falling to his knees, and you groan, âFuckâŚâ knowing you have him in that exact position. You sneak a glance at him to see him looking up at you with his eyes blown out. And his tongue tentatively licks over your cute little panties. He lets out a groan before he takes a deep inhale, âOh fuck, yeahâŚâ He looks like heâs in utter bliss as he kisses over the fabric, making it wetter and wetter until itâs actively sticking to your folds.Â
He takes his time peeling them off of you with his teeth, watching intently as your folds stick to them. He lets out another groan before he peels them fully off of you. You let out a hiss at the sudden cold air rushing towards you, and he wastes no time diving in and finally tasting what heâs craved all day long. The way he moans against you has you letting out a soft whimper, and he mutters, âFuck me, this is what I wantedâŚâ You feel his head move side to side before he finally gets a better angle, able to taste you better. His tongue roams over your folds, playing over your clit, a few times before he laps at your entrance. He starts the cycle all over until he finds the rhythm he likes, one that drives you insane.Â
Your phone finally drops from your hands as you grow closer and closer to the edge. You grip your sheets tightly, holding on for dear life as he eats you out desperately, âOh my god.â He hums, âNot god, babyâŚâ You cry, âBeommm!â You can feel his cocky little smirk against your clit as he hums, âThatâs right, baby.â And you reach your first orgasm of the night with a high-pitched whine. And he laps it up greedily.Â
Your hands wander from the sheet beneath you and into his long soft hair, and you feel his smirk grow even wider as your grip tightens in his hair. He chuckles against your folds, âFinally affecting you, huh?â You whimper and he makes it his mission to throw you over the edge again and quickly. His nose rubs against your clit as he laps at your folds, knowing how much it drives you insane, âGonna cum again, baby?â You whine and pull at his hair a bit and he chuckles, knowing he has you right where he wants you and with a slight nudge of his nose on your clit, he has you falling over the edge again. Your thighs shake a bit around his head before they relax around his head. And he continues lapping at your folds like heâs starving and you cry out, knowing heâs not finished with you.Â
You feel another orgasm steadily approaching, and you finally cry out, âBeom, please!â He shakes his head against you, not having enough of your taste yet, âNo⌠Iâve craved you since I woke up this morning, Iâm going until you blackout.â You cry out as another orgasm floods over you and he groans loudly as he licks up every last drop. And you know he means every word of it, thank god your upstairs neighbors were playing their music loudly. Because if not, you were bound to get a noise complaint from the whole building due to the mess he was making of you.Â
Your clit feels more and more sensitive with each orgasm he pulls out of you, and it causes you to squirm, wanting to get away from his constant brushing and licking of it. Even though it feels good it was too much. You release your hands from his soft hair, and wriggle and sigh for the brief second you get away from his tongue. And thatâs when his arms come up under your thighs, pinning you to the bed, not letting you escape his tongue. You whine and he mumbles, âSorry, baby. But Iâm still hungryâŚâ Your thighs shake under his hold as he attacks your sensitive little clit, and you cry out as you feel yourself unable to keep still with each orgasm he pushes you through. It was mind-numbing but it felt so good, that as much as he couldnât get enough of your taste you couldnât get enough of him sending you over the edge.Â
You feel comfortably numb as your thighs shake around his head. Your mind feels blank as he sends you over the edge for the sixth one? Youâre unsure you lost count after the fourth, it all feels endless, and you donât have to do a damn thing. And it feels so good to relinquish all your control and needs to him. He knows exactly what you want, and heâs giving you all that and more. While also satisfying his needs of tasting you until his jaw is sore from being overworked. Youâre sure itâs already slightly sore, but that doesnât stop him and god, it feels so good you canât even begin to form thoughts. And thatâs when you finally feel yourself drifting out of consciousness, as the seventh? one washes over you. Your grip loosens on his hair, losing your strength to hold him against you. You let out a soft, âShitâŚâ He chuckles against your skin as his tongue circles over your clit a few times. His pace increases, and thatâs the last thing you consciously feel as an eighth orgasm courses through you, rendering you completely boneless.Â
You wake to him besides you sleeping peacefully with his arms wrapped around you. The sheets beneath you were changed, and you can only assume that they were soaked from the endless amounts of pleasure he put you both through. You feel something soft in your arms and find your favorite plushie in your arms and a little note attached, âSorry, I continued eating you out after you blacked out, but you tasted too good to stop <3 Love, your beomie bear <3â You chortle softly to yourself and you hear him stir. You ask him cheekily, âYou have a good dinner?â He laughs, âThe bestâŚâ You ask softly, âHow many times did I⌠yâknow?â He smirks, a teasing lilt to his smile, âCum? All over my tongue? Give me the best meal I could ask for?â You roll your eyes, âYeahâŚâ You watch as he internally counts, âAt least fifteen timesâŚâ Your eyes widen, âI didnât know I could do that⌠that many times.â He chuckles, âI tried to get a sixteenth out of you⌠And well it seems you do have a limit.â You laugh before you hum, your eyes turning dark at the thought, âI wonder what yours is~â His eyes widen before his smirk deepens, âIs that a challenge?â You bite your lip, âIs it? Do you think you can cum more times than me?â He shrugs, âI guess thereâs only one way to find out, huh?â You smirk and put your plushie under the bed, not wanting the little guy to see what you were about to do. You flip on top of Beomgyu and he groans, his long hair falls back against your pillow, and you canât wait to ruin him like he ruined you.
i thought I should give a little life update <3 i've been working vv hard to get to where I am at rn- so I've been mia on almost everything- đ so it will take me a bit to get into the groove of things- anyways!!
i just recently moved into my first apartment w/one of my close friends𼚠and today I got the internet completely on!! đ¤ (that was a mess to deal with) i'm finally out of a situation that has caused me bunch of trauma/grief and i'm vv proud of myself! i feel safe here <3 oh and ofc shadow (as you may know as my cat) is getting well-adjusted to his new brothers~ (he doesn't realize it yet but they are gonna be best friends đââď¸)
i promised myself in december that i would do this- but now it's vv real and yeah T-T i did it đĽšđđ T-T and i'm so grateful to the friends that helped me along <3 yeah life is good y'know? đđđ
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Wooyoung knew that you and his roommate werenât exclusive. While you werenât seeing anyone else for the time being, his roommate would occasionally hook up with other girls every so often. Wooyoung asked you multiple times why you didnât decide to do the same, and you would always tell him that it was because you didnât find anyone else that appealing yet.
What you didnât know was that Wooyoung kept asking you that question because he wanted to ask you out, but he couldnât figure out exactly how to phrase it. Were you open to actually dating, or were you only looking for casual relationships like the one you had with his roommate? No matter how hard he tried to figure it out, he couldnât, so Wooyoung just decided to keep his mouth shut because he didnât want to lose his friendship with you.
There was one thing about your relationship with his roommate that bugged him though, and that was the fact that he could hear you both whenever you hooked up. You were both pretty loud, and everything that he could hear turned him the fuck onâ and he was ashamed to say that he beat himself off a couple times when he heard your melodious moans and sighs through the thin walls of his apartment.
One morning, he woke up to hear the two of you giggling in his roommateâs bedroom. His eyebrow twitched with slight irritation the louder your giggling got. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh like that. He wanted to hear that laugh while you laid in his arms and hugged him close so early in the morning. Was that too much to ask?
Begrudgingly, Wooyoung got out of bed to get started with his day. He trudged to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stared mindlessly into the fridge. He didnât know what to eat, so he just left the fridge open and continued to stare at the contents inside as his roommate entered the kitchen.
âHey, if youâre not going to grab anything, close the fridge,â he lectured before closing the door in front of Wooyoungâs face.
âI was trying to figure out what to eat,â Wooyoung responded as he frowned.
âWell, donât waste electricity.â
Wooyoung turned and faced his roommate, only to see that he was dressed and ready to head out. He looked at him, his face the epitome of a question mark.
âWhere are you going this early in the morning?â
âI got a breakfast date. Iâll see ya later.â
With that, Wooyoungâs roommate left the apartment, leaving Wooyoung slightly flabbergasted. How could he just leave you here to go on a date with someone else? It felt wrong, but he wasnât the one in an open relationship with you, so who was he to judge? Wooyoung turned back to the fridge and finally settled on grabbing a couple of fruits from the fridge and making himself a fruit salad.
He was peeling oranges when you sauntered into the area. You stifled a yawn and greeted him.
âMorning, Wooyoung,â you said sleepily.
âMorningâŚâ
Wooyoung was still focused on the oranges when you sat in the bar stool at the end of the kitchen island. When you sat down, he finally looked up at you, and he immediately smirked as he popped an orange slice into his mouth.
âDid you sleep in my shirt? Thatâs hot,â Wooyoung said as soon as he laid eyes on you.
âOh, yeah, sorry I borrowedâ Sorry, did you just say âthatâs hotâ?â you stopped mid sentence as soon as Wooyoungâs words fully processed in your head.
âI mean, yeah. You usually wear Yunhoâs shirts whenever you spend the night. The fact that youâre wearing mine⌠You look really hot, Y/N.â
Your face went red. You avoided eye contact with him and tugged at the hem of his shirt. You could barely let out a weak thank you, making the other man laugh at your reaction.
âYou canât take a compliment, Y/N?â
You kept your gaze on your lap as you shook your head. Wooyoung looked at you a little more closely, his heart skipping a beat as he suddenly felt a surge of courage course through his body. He wiped his hands on the kitchen towel and approached you. He held the bottom of your shirt, immediately making you snap your eyes to him.
âWhen are you going to give me my shirt back, then?â Wooyoung asked.
âUh, I d-donâtâ Sh-should I wash it first?â you stuttered.
âI donât know⌠I kind of want my shirt back now.â
You blinked a couple of times, your brain unable to process what you were hearing. The words then flew out of your mind when he tugged yourâ hisâ shirt upwards slowly. You stared at him with wide eyes as he maintained eye contact with you, his intentions (finally) extremely clear to you.
âIs that okay?â Wooyoung asked. âCan I have my shirt back now?â
Gulping, you nodded. Wooyoung pulled the shirt off, revealing your bare breasts and leaving you in nothing but your panties. He let the shirt fall to the ground and immediately cupped your breasts, a soft exhale leaving your lungs as he massaged your breasts. You uttered profanities under your breath the more Wooyoung kneaded. He leaned in close to you, his lips teasing yours. You tilted your head and tried to kiss him, but he moved away right as your lips brushed his, making you whine slightly.
âYou sure about that, Y/N?â Wooyoung asked teasingly. âYou sure you want to cross this line with me?â
âNngh, can you please just kiss me?â you complained.
âI want verbal confirmation from you, Y/N.â
âYes, Wooyoung. I want to cross this line with you.â
Wooyoung smirked. He finally connected his lips to yours, electricity running through your body. You moaned and ran your fingers through his hair as you deepened the kisses, the man leaning into you to the point where you almost fell off the stool.
âWait,â he whispered breathlessly as he moved his hands from your breasts to your waist.
He lifted you so that you were sitting on the kitchen countertop before smashing his lips against yours. He kissed you hungrily, his hands gripping your thighs and waist repeatedly as he restlessly made out with you.
âFuck, Wooyoung!â you sighed as he trailed his kisses down your neck, his hand moving up to massage your breast again.
Wooyoung couldnât even be bothered to respondâ he was so focused on devouring and marking every part of you because he had been wanting this for God knows how long. With one hand on your breast, the other went into your panties, his fingers stroking your cunt roughly, impatiently. You could barely support yourself on the kitchen island, so you clung to him instead, your hands gripping his shoulders.
You whimpered and whined when Wooyoung moved away from you. He completely removed his sweatpants, revealing his red, throbbing cock raring to go before quickly pulling your panties off. You licked your lips and reached for him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him close to you. Wooyoung smiled slyly before kissing you, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he rubbed his cock along your entrance. Your legs quivered every time the tip of his cock brushed against your clit, tingles spreading through your stomach the more he rubbed. While you loved the feeling, you needed more.
Luckily, Wooyoung was losing his patience as well. When he deemed you wet enough, he moved away from you so he could slide his cock inside you, making you press your hands flat on the countertop to support yourself. You moaned softly when you felt him enter you, the tingles only getting stronger. You leaned your head back and felt your mind start to empty out as Wooyoung began rutting into you. He moved one of your legs so that it was resting on his shoulder, giving him better access to your cunt.
âFuck,â you heard him hiss, the sound of the profanity leaving his lips making every cell in your body react to him. âYouâre so wet for me, arenât you?â
You bit your lip and nodded, a whine leaving your lungs as you agreed with him. You had never heard your cunt sound quite like it did in that moment, squelching with every thrust from the man before you. You leaned back onto the counter top and moaned, your eyes fluttering close and filling the darkness with sparkles. You really were so close. You brought your hand in between your legs and rubbed your clit as Wooyoung focused on keeping his steady pace, the power of his hips only getting stronger. His hands went from your waist to your thighs so he could pull you close to him every time his hips moved. The added stimulation was just enough for you to push him away and let out a loud cry as you squirted onto the countertop, your arousal dripping off the edge and to the floor.
âF-Fuck, Wooyoung!â you cried as you creamed around his cock when he re-entered you, your legs trembling uncontrollably. He let go of your thigh, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, and his hands moved to your breasts to grip them tightly as his thrusts got faster. â Yes, yes! J-Just like that!â
Wooyoung was grunting, high-pitched whines leaving him every so often as his thrusts got more sporadic. He was truly losing his mindâ when you clenched your walls around his cock, he was pretty much ready to cum, but he didnât want to stop, not when the friction between his cock and your cunt was filling him with insurmountable pleasure.
Yet, he was fucked when you pushed yourself up and quickly held onto him before smashing your lips against his. It certainly did not help that you were rolling your body towards him, changing his angle ever so slightly. As you kissed him, you took his lower lip in between your teeth and bit down lightly, completely breaking Wooyoung. He quickly held your waist and pulled you close as he thrust rapidly into you before cumming, the man moaning against your lips. He had actually tried to pull out before cumming, but you clenched your walls again, stopping him midway through. He came inside you, his cock shuddering as his seed spurt inside you.
âAh⌠Fuck,â you moaned as your pleasure slowly died down. âThat was so goodâŚâ
âShit,â Wooyoung hissed as he pressed his head into your shoulder. âI came insideâŚâ
âThatâs okay, Wooyoung,â you responded as you ran your fingers through his hair. âI donât mind at all.â
âYou sure?â
âWith you, Iâm always sure.â
Wooyoung let out a low exhale as he pulled out of you, his cum seeping out of your cunt and mixing with your arousal before dripping onto the ground. He was completely enamored with the way your red cunt was leaking white, his fingers spreading your lips open to let the rest of him drip out.
âWooyoung, youâre making a mess,â you muttered with slight embarrassment as you tried to close your legs.
âMy kitchen, my problem,â he replied immediately.
âStillâŚâ
Wooyoung couldnât help but chuckle at your reaction. He ended up stopping, allowing you to close your legs and shed your embarrassment. When you slipped off the kitchen countertop and tried to situate yourself though, Wooyoung pinned you in place, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he leaned into you.
âWhere are you going? Iâm not finished with you yet.â
