“Is that mine?” 

You look down at the old t-shirt you threw on before climbing into bed, the colors slightly faded and the neckline stretched from years of use. “Yeah,” you say without much of a second thought, turning off the lamp. Baekhyun’s face is plunged into darkness, but not before you take in the sight of his expression: lips parted slightly, dark eyes shining with interest and a bit of something unreadable. “Do you want me to change?”

“No,” he says, a little too quickly before recovering smoothly. “You should wear it. It suits you more anyways.”

That’s the end of that, but you notice that he sleeps with his hand firmly resting on your upper thigh. 

It doesn’t end there either. Whenever you go to bed you notice how his eyes linger, dragging generously over your body, hovering over the tops of your thighs as they peek out under the hem. You have half a mind to call him out for it, but the truth is you want to see him wriggle a little, make him squirm. So, you wear them more often and even throughout the day, lounging on the couch on your stomach, the hem riding up just barely over the curve of your ass. 

You’re not a stranger to Baekhyun’s stares. The thoughtful one when you’ve just said something he wants to remember, the frustrated one where his skin creases ever so slightly between his eyebrows, even the one that you’ve only caught small glimpses of, the way he looks at you with adoration when he thinks you’re not looking. But this… is something else. When you wear his shirts and parade around in them, not so subtly flaunting yourself in front of him, he gives you a new look that you haven’t yet seen. It’s beyond just being turned on (another gaze of his that you’ve gotten quite used to). Instead, it feels like you’re being swallowed whole, burning to a crisp underneath the weight of his stare. It feels magnetic, calling out to you, pulling you in.

But for some reason, Baekhyun, who’s never been shy to reach out and take what he needs, has remained frustratingly still throughout all of your days of teasing.

You simply have to take matters into your own hands.

A just barely innocent enough mirror selfie wearing one of his button-downs, perfectly timed for when he’s stuck at the office working late. You leave several of the buttons undone, the lace of his favorite bra of yours peeking above the fabric. 

waiting for u to come home ^-^ <3 

He doesn’t answer. At first you think that maybe he’s truly so swamped with work that he hasn’t gotten a chance to see your message, and maybe you should pivot into preparing for a cozy night to help him unwind. To your surprise, you hear the tinkling of the keys in the door a mere thirty minutes after you send the message, way before you’re expecting him to return.

“Everything okay?” you ask when he appears in the bedroom doorway. You sit up at the edge of the bed. “I thought you weren’t gonna be back for another hour.”

He has that look again, the one that makes your insides run warm instantly. “Had to come home right away,” he murmurs, taking a step towards you. Something about the air shifts, immediately becoming darker, hotter, his hunger settling like a haze. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing?”

“I haven’t been doing anything,” you say, feigning innocence.

He laughs, a deep, low chuckle in the back of his throat. “Cute.”

“Well,” you say indignantly, “Would it kill you to admit that you like it when I wear your clothes?”

Baekhyun lifts your chin up towards him and immediately you feel the stirrings of desire deep within you. “I like it when you wear my clothes,” he says softly. His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You’ve been driving me crazy.”

You swallow, already feeling any sort of bravado wilting underneath his stare. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” 

“I didn’t have the time to properly show you just how much it’s been affecting me.” His hand drifts lower, following the dip of the unbuttoned neckline of his shirt until his fingertips graze the top of your tits. “Didn’t want to rush it.”

“We have all night,” you whisper. “Don’t we?”

That’s all the encouragement Baekhyun needs. He sinks to his knees on the floor, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties and dragging the fabric down your legs. He settles in between your thighs, the heat of his breath on your core sending a shiver down your spine. When he kisses your inner thigh, you can’t help the way that your back arches, pushing yourself into his touch.

“You’re so worked up,” Baekhyun says, voice sounding half-amused and aroused. He drags his thumb across your slit, feeling the wetness pooling there. “You like teasing me, don’t you?”

“Get on with it,” you whine. “I need you.”

“Uh-uh,” he says softly. He sucks a mark into your skin, reveling in the way that you shudder. “I told you I didn’t want to rush. I’m gonna take my time with you.”

After what feels like an eternity of soft touches and kissing up your thighs, he finally, finally puts his mouth where you want it. You sigh with relief, your hips rising to meet him halfway as he kisses your clit, tongue dipping into your hole, fucking you with unhurried precision. 

Baekhyun truly meant it when he said he didn’t want to rush. His lips brush against you with reverence, slowly taking you apart second by second. Just because the pace is slower doesn’t mean it’s any less devastating. He knows exactly when to lap at you harder, when to insert two of his long, slim fingers inside you, pressing steadily against that spot that makes you see stars. 

“Oh, Baek—” you whisper, burying your hands in his hair. “Feels so good.”

He groans against you, almost inaudible underneath the wet, slick sounds of your cunt. His free hand slides up your stomach, underneath the fabric of the shirt, grasping at your tits as he sucks on your clit. “Yeah?” he murmurs. He pulls back and purses his lips, letting a glob of spit fall onto your hole. He pushes it in with his fingers, watching it in awe. “You gonna cum for me?”

“Please,” you whisper. “I want it.”

He ducks his head back down, hooking both arms around your thighs as he pulls your body towards him, lapping at your cunt like a man starved. The sudden change of pace is brutal, devastating. His tongue flicks against your clit while he fucks you deep with his fingers, curling them perfectly. It doesn’t take long at all for your body to cave, your orgasm ripping like fire underneath your skin. You cum with a cry of his name, loud and unabashed, your fingers gripping his hair.

You reach out to pull on his arm, urging him to switch spots but he ignores you, spreading your trembling thighs open once more. “You don’t think I’m done yet, do you?” he asks before burying himself back against your core. 

“F-Fuck!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut. Each pass of his tongue feels electric, deftly swirling and sucking in a way that makes your head spin. “Baby, please. Hold on—”

“Nah,” he grins wickedly, sinking his fingers back inside you. “You can take it, can’t you?”

He takes you apart just like this: slowly, teasing, again and again and again. You lose track of how many times your thighs clamp around his head, your voice cracking with each moan. All you have to ground you is Baekhyun’s heated gaze, greedily drinking in your vision as you come apart underneath him. He can’t look away, won’t look away, would rather die than miss even a fraction of a second of this. 

He finally lets up, nose and lips shiny and slick with you, standing as he undoes his tie. You sit up to help him, undoing the button of his slacks with shaky fingers. You reach down to palm at his cock, achingly hard and already leaking at the tip. His hips pitch forward as you run your hand up and down his length, spreading his precum with your thumb. 

“You’re so hard,” you whisper, a ghost of a teasing smile on your face. 

“Can you blame me?” he grunts, eyes screwing shut. “You’re so fucking hot it’s unreal.”

He finishes undoing his shirt and you lean forward, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across his chest and stomach as you begin to jerk him off faster. His hand wraps around to cup the back of your head, holding you close to his skin. He smells so very faintly of the cologne he applied this morning, but also of something that can only be described as him. 

“Tell me what you want,” he gasps. “How do you want to be fucked, sweetheart?”

“Wanna ride you,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. 

Baekhyun groans, quickly ridding himself of the rest of his clothing before joining you on the bed. You position yourself above him, dragging the tip of his cock against your folds. “Feel how wet I am for you?” you whisper, bending forward to kiss his jaw. 

“Yes,” he breathes, reaching one hand out to hike the shirt higher up your thighs. “God, please.”

Slowly, you sink down, biting back a moan until you’re fully seated, trembling on his cock. Baekhyun’s head lolls back against the headboard, eyes fluttering shut. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he rasps, hands twisting in the sheets below him. “God, you’re fucking squeezing me.”

You lift yourself back up and fuck down onto him in the way you know that he likes, fighting through the sensitivity that threatens to burn you from the inside out. You roll your hips, bouncing up and down with enough force to shake the bed, chasing your own pleasure with an unmatched ferocity.

Baekhyun stares, eyebrows drawn together in pleasure, taking in the sinful vision of you above him, your flushed face and parted lips, the way he can see your tits bouncing underneath the shirt—his shirt. The realization pulls something primal out of him, a shaky sort of all-encompassing feral need. He pulls you towards him, catching your lips in a kiss while he unbuttons the shirt, fingers tracing bare skin as it’s revealed to him. 

“You’re shaking, angel,” he murmurs, pushing the fabric off of your shoulders. “Does it feel that good?”

You let out a breathless laugh, splaying your hands on his chest for better leverage as you up the pace of your hips. “Cocky, are we?”

Baekhyun plants his hands firmly on either side of your hips and thrusts up into you, sharp and mean. You cry out, hands scrabbling onto the headboard to hold on tight before he begins pounding into you from below. “Lemme ask you again,” he says, grunting from exertion. “Feel good, baby?”

“Yes!” you sob, screwing your eyes shut. The pleasure is white-hot, fire rolling through your body and singing behind your eyelids. “Fuck, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” he commands. “Show me how good I make you feel.”

It’s instant, the way your body bows for him, curling in on yourself as your orgasm overtakes you. He fucks you through it, his grip on your body tight and unyielding, his muscles flexing with each movement. You gasp with each motion, your stolen breath hitching with each thrust, every movement setting your insides alight with flame. 

He helps you off of him and positions you on your elbows and knees, burying himself into you from behind. You immediately dip forward, your forehead dropping to the sheets as he sets a brutal rhythm, your moans muffled against the fabric. You take the comforter between your teeth to ground yourself, your head fuzzy and dizzy with arousal. 

You feel the weight of his body as he drapes himself over you, grinding his hips deep against your sweet spot. “You always take me so well,” he murmurs, trailing kisses up your shoulderblade until he reaches the back of your head. “Like we were fucking made for each other.”

“Oh my God,” you whine, pushing your hips back, fucking yourself onto him. The sounds are absolutely filthy, the slapping of skin on skin, the wetness spilling onto your thighs, the steady stream of downright pornographic dirty talk falling from Baekhyun’s lips. Everything from good girl to just like that, fuck yourself on my cock. It’s all too much, borderline overwhelming, but you can’t stop. How could you, when it feels this fucking good?

You whimper when you feel yourself nearing the edge once more, placing one hand palm-up next to your head, closing and opening your fingers rapidly. Baekhyun chuckles, interlacing his fingers with yours as he seats himself inside of you, his voice breaking when you clench around him. “Can you cum again for me, love?”

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please, Baek.”

He kisses your back once more before he reaches his free hand around to circle your clit, rolling his hips into you hard enough for the bed beneath you to rock noisily. You yell out, a mix of incoherent whines and his name, not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. Stars explode behind your eyelids as you shake, biting the comforter so hard your ears start to ring.

Gently, Baekhyun turns you onto your back and sinks back inside you, moaning at the feeling of your sensitive walls fluttering around him. He grabs your thighs and positions you so that you’re wrapped around him, legs locking behind his waist. He finally unhooks your bra, kissing and biting your chest while he waits for you to adjust.

“Aren’t you tired yet?” you ask breathlessly, voice catching on a laugh. 

Baekhyun shakes his head, smirking boyishly in that annoyingly handsome way. “Never.” He surges forward, kissing you messily as he rolls his hips, long, fluid motions that cause you to claw at his shoulders. 

His skin is damp, glistening slightly with sweat, the strands of his hair that curl over the nape of his neck sticky with it. The smell of sex, heady and heavy, hangs in the room like a perfume. He leans down and brushes his lips against your neck. 

You giggle, instinctively swatting him. “Tickles.”

He exhales out a laugh, drawing you close as he continues to roll his hips into you, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against your sweet spot. Your skin still prickles from sensitivity, your breath still hitches from time to time, but the intimacy of the closeness just hits different. The heat is settling now, dulled down from a deafening roar into a warm hearth. 

Baekhyun traces your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes sparkling at you like you’re the most gorgeous creature he’s ever laid eyes on. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his lips following the path that his finger drew. “My angel.”

You card your fingers through his hair and your heart squeezes at the way he follows your touch, nudging his head into the palm of your hand. “I love you,” you say. “So fucking much, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun keens, head dropping forward as his hips stutter. “F-fuck,” he groans brokenly, looking up at you through his lashes with wild, desperate eyes. “Tell me that again, please.”

“I love you.” You draw his head down, cradling him against your skin, his breath coming hot and needy against your neck. You whisper in his ear, “You’re my one and only. Mine.”

He gasps, roughly grabbing your hips as he ruts into you. “I’m yours— fuck, I love you, I fucking love you,” he sobs, frantically driving into you, chasing his own high. His body tenses up before he spills into you with a loud cry, filling you with his warm seed. He’s shaking, panting from the intensity, holding you close like it’s the only way to keep him grounded to the Earth.

You press a kiss to his sweat-damp temple, soothingly dragging your nails across the back of his scalp. Neither of you wants to move, too wrapped up in each other, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment.

Baekhyun finally lifts his head up, eyes soft with satisfaction, lips red and kiss-swollen. He kisses you sweetly, brushing the stray strands of hair out of your face. “You really are so beautiful,” he says softly. “How did I get so lucky?”

You feel your cheeks blooming with warmth as you hide your face against his chest. “You’re so embarrassing,” you mumble.

“I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror later so you can see what I see.”

You sigh, trying to hide the way that the bluntness of his statement makes you laugh. “Seriously? We just did all that and you’re already thinking about going again?”

“What happened to we have all night?” he pouts. “That wasn’t just dirty talk for me, love. I’m seriously going to show you just how much I’ve been needing you.”

You hum, pretending to think about it even though you can already feel the stirrings of desire deep within you. “Give me thirty minutes.”

“Twenty.”

“Twenty-five.”

Baekhyun tilts his head, thinking. “Can we kiss for those twenty-five minutes?”

You laugh. “Yes, Baek. Of course.”

He grins, pressing his lips against yours. “Thank God.”

You don’t get to give another retort before his lips are back on you. When he shifts, you feel him move inside you, sending a shiver up your spine. You’re in for a long, long night, but you couldn’t be happier.

loverboy baekhyun who cums when his partner says i love you who's with me

Introduction

This day can’t get any worse.

Your flight is delayed. To make matters worse,you wish you were able to fly out during the day. Instead, you’re forced to fly in the evening since abandoning the class you teach in order to take a more convenient flight is frowned upon, generally. Even then, as you drive to the airport in rush hour traffic, you notice the progressive darkening of the sky as clouds hang low, heavy and full with unshed rain. And sure enough, as you wait in the gate, the first clap of thunder signals to you that you would be stuck here for a long, long time. 

As the flight is delayed for a second time, a full hour after your scheduled takeoff, your phone pings. 

Hi! Do you want to walk to the opening plenary together?

Stella, your first-year advisee, is a sweet girl, smart as a whip and knows more about occupational health than some people on your level, but she has what you affectionately call first-year clinginess, a tendency of first-years PhD students to hide behind their advisors in a mixture of both social anxiety and a hope for a networking opportunity. As if by sticking with you, they’ll magically be given the opportunity of a lifetime; a paper in a top-tier journal, or a tenure-track job at the most prestigious universities. 

Because that’s what these conferences are, right? People will say that they’re to discuss current research, share findings that will soon be published, “foster knowledge”, as some of the older faculty members who already have job security and respect in the field will say. But really, it’s clout-chasing. Shaking hands and swapping LinkedIn QR codes with people that you will most likely never speak to again. For most, it’s really about a socially acceptable environment to get shit-faced with a bunch of your other nerd friends and trying to find the bars that your students are not so likely to show up to. 

You remember being like Stella, being so anxious about conferences. You would attend a session every hour, try to strike up a conversation with the panelists afterwards, rehearse your elevator pitch every night in your hotel room. But now? You’re lucky if you even make it to more than one reception.

And to make matters worse, your field’s annual conference always conflicts with—

You roll your eyes and focus on the matter at hand. How childish. You begin to type back your response to Stella.

Sorry, my flight is delayed and I’m missing the plenary. I would walk with Kevin if you can find him!

Oh, okay. See you at lab lunch tomorrow!

It takes another hour, but your flight finally takes off. It’s impossible to get comfortable on the flight, because of course it is. Turbulence shakes you awake every time you start to doze off, and the motion makes it impossible for you to do anything productive on your laptop. The only thing you can do is stare at the back of the seat in front of you, praying that if the plane goes down, it will be a quick and merciful death. 

If only this were the end of your misfortunes for the day.

The Uber driver gets lost, and a missed turn adds about twenty minutes to your ride to the hotel. He even has the audacity to ask for your number at the end of it, a sickeningly sleazy smile on his face. By the time you’ve checked in, heading up the elevator to your room, you want nothing more than to just settle in between some crisp hotel sheets, melatonin working its way through your system, a long and dreamless night’s rest before you. 

But of course, because this is the day from hell, you just have to run into him. 

You’re just about to step into your room, literally one foot inside, when the room next door opens up and out walks Byun Baekhyun.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Baekhyun looks up at the sound of your voice. Just like that, his expression hardens, eyes narrowing in greeting. He looks at you like you’re not a person, rather, a problem to solve. He gets that look in his eye that he always gets when he’s thinking, the gears in his head whirring away. “Just getting in?” he asks, and you know you’re not imagining the slight judgment in his voice.

“My flight was delayed,” you say stiffly. “How was the plenary?”

“You know I don’t go to that,” he scoffs. “I’m heading out to dinner.”

“Judging me for just getting in while you’re actively playing hooky.” You tsk your tongue at him. “Honestly, where do you get the nerve?”

Baekhyun shrugs. “It’s networking.”

“You call everything networking.”

“At least I’m actually doing something productive with my time here instead of just hiding out in my hotel room or attending sessions. It’s a conference. Lighten up a little.” He turns on his heel and heads to the elevators, lifting a hand in goodbye. “See ya around! Or not.”

Fuming, you head into your hotel room. God you can’t stand him, haven’t been able to stand him for years. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you have to see him around year after year, especially on the one day a year you would actually like to be pleasant, now he’s your next door fucking neighbor. You close your eyes and exhale deeply through your nose. It’s fine, it’s fine, you tell yourself. He’s never ruined your birthday before, he wouldn’t start now. 

You open your eyes and meet your tired reflection in the mirror. As long as you keep to yourself, keep the interactions with Baekhyun confined to the conference itself, surely things would go smoothly.

“Surely,” you say out loud. The answering silence seems to mock your naivety.

Theoretical Background

You met Byun Baekhyun at your first ever conference. 

At your university’s reception, your advisor, Minseok, waved you over from where you were chattering politely with your cohort. “Come here,” he said, smiling warmly, his cheeks slightly reddened from the alcohol. “I want to introduce you to a colleague of mine. This is—”

“Dr. Kim!” you exclaimed, then turned red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I really love your work, we have a lot of research interests in common.”

“Call me Junmyeon,” he said, laughing a bit in amusement. “And that’s what Minseok here was telling me. And this,” he waved over someone about your age, “is my first-year, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun smiled at you, and sometimes you think of this moment as the last time you ever thought of Baekhyun with anything other than deep-seated resentment and anger. He stuck out compared to you and the other first-years. Where you felt a bit more formal than the other faculty and professionals in the room, stiff and awkward, Baekhyun seemed more relaxed in his business-casual wear, hands buried in his pockets. “Nice to meet you,” he said coolly. He stuck his hand out to shake yours before resuming his casual posture.

“Maybe we can have a bit of a cross-university collaboration?” Minseok said. He nudged Junmyeon in the side. “Be a bit like the old days?”

“Will you sleep in the lab and pretend like you didn’t even though you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes?” 

The four of you laughed good-naturedly. Back then, you thought that this would be the beginning of a beautiful academic relationship, if not a genuine friendship.

That all fell apart the next morning.

You stood in front of your poster, anxiety and excitement bubbling in your chest. Your first conference! Your first poster! You engaged in some conversations with interested passerby, your pitch perfectly polished. It was going really well for the first half-hour.

And then Baekhyun came.

You’ll never forget the way that he squinted as he read your poster, lips moving as he read the words to himself. You don’t know why his approval mattered so much to you at that moment. Maybe it was because he had an advisor you looked up to, maybe it was because he actually knew the material, maybe it was just because you wanted a friend. It didn’t matter, anyway. All of these hopes and dreams fell by the wayside when he turned to you and said,

“This is wrong. Isn’t it?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “What do you mean?”

Baekhyun pointed at your results table. “Your interpretations suggest a full mediation. But there’s a partial mediation in your results, see? So it’s not fully capturing what you’re claiming is the takeaway.” 

Your brows furrowed. “Yeah, but a partial mediation is not insignificant. I say that future research should focus on finding the other explanations for the direct pathway.”

Baekhyun shrugged. “I dunno. It kinda seems like too simple an explanation. Partial mediation is just the easy way of saying, ‘We were wrong.’ Also, you know that this is an outdated concept? Like they’re calling for the complete overhaul of it.”

You had not, in fact, known that. 

You felt your cheeks burning with embarrassment as your mind clambered for something intelligent to say, some sort of comeback that would save this entire interaction. But your treacherous mind couldn’t, so instead, you just gaped at him. 

Baekhyun pursed his lips, seemingly amused at your silence. “I have some ideas about how you can improve the design, we could talk about it sometime. Especially since these days, cross-sectional research isn’t considered good enough for publication.”

You watched as he turned away, already scrutinizing the poster next to yours before you could even reply. Isn’t considered good enough. The words echoed, bouncing around your skull. 

Not good enough, not good enough.

The words followed you through the rest of the day, distracting you from the sessions you attended. You forgot people’s names the moment you met them, leading you to try and look at their name tags without them noticing. They even followed you all the way to the next morning, when you found yourself back in the poster hall. At the time, you told yourself that it was just total coincidence that you found yourself in front of Baekhyun’s poster, but the reality probably was that his name in the agenda had caught your eye and you hyperfixated on it, your body able to carry you there without you even realizing. 

His poster was good. Really good. Thorough, with advanced statistics to back it up. Impressive implications for both academics and practitioners. It didn’t seem like the work of a first-year, no, it was very, very advanced.

Baekhyun turned to you after wrapping up a conversation with another passerby. “Whad’ya think?” he beamed.

It’s good, you thought. But that sinking, icky feeling from yesterday rose like bile in your throat. You sought for something, anything to pick apart on his poster, to bring him down to where he had left you. He looked at you expectantly, smugly, as if he knew. As if he knew what you were trying to do, and that you were unable to do it.

Aha.

“I think your theoretical argument is a little weak. I can think of two other theories that are stronger and point to what you’re actually looking at. For example, have you heard of Work-Home Resources Theory?”

Baekhyun blinked. “Uh… is it similar to Conservation of Resources?”

You nod enthusiastically, your voice picking up speed and volume as you talk, as it always does when you’re excited. “It’s similar, but better. It’s a more optimistic view of the way people treat their resources, rather than from a depletion and conservation standpoint.”

He opened his mouth, then stopped. His eyes sharpened and the gears in his head turned, turned, turned. “Optimism doesn’t make a theory better. Look, if this is about yesterday, I wasn’t trying to pick a fight, I was just suggesting—”

“I’m just making a suggestion too,” you cut in. “This theory takes macro and micro resources into account, as well as the personal resources that an individual builds up over time. If you want to do research that’s more connected with the broader context, you have to take all of those things into consideration.” 

You hated the words coming out of your mouth, a mixture of nonsensical buzzwords that the try-hards around you used to sound smart. 

But you loved the look on Baekhyun’s face even more. 

“You—” For a moment, you saw past his polished yet comfortable attitude, revealing something rawer, electric, inside. The side that all academics had that no one wanted to admit to. Pure, ugly, ego. But just as fast as it had appeared, it melted away, sinking back into the depths of his psyche. “I think we can have a more productive conversation about this some other time, yeah?”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Sure. Anytime.”

You never did have that conversation, and a pattern of constantly trying to one up the other formed. The next year, he returned to your poster, poked holes in your argument with that same smug smile. When he spoke at his first panel, you were in the front row, asking way too many difficult questions. It got so commonplace that when Minseok made you practice your presentations, he asked you to imagine what Baekhyun would say. 

This rivalry continued after school as well, as both of you landed assistant professor positions upon graduation. When you won an early career award, Baekhyun was awarded a prestigious grant. When he landed a publication in your field’s top journal, you secured popular press coverage. It was a never-ending cycle, and neither of you were ahead for long enough to get comfortable before the other person overtook them.

Something your students asked you sometimes when they were in the depths of despair, an experiment that wouldn’t work or a fourth round of revisions, was what motivated you to keep going. You fed them the same bullshit answers that anyone would. Doing this research is meaningful or We’re actively contributing to knowledge or even It’s worth it to mentor students like you. All of these things were true to you, in some way and in varying degrees.

But the real truth, the dirty, bitter truth? What kept you going when it was time to be nice to your hostile administration, or deal with an undergrad who was bitter about you not rounding their grade from a C- to an A, or stay up all night writing a new manuscript? It was the look on Baekhyun’s face when you saw him next when he knew you were two steps ahead of him. Nothing pleased you more than the thinly veiled annoyance on his face, the begrudging pleasantries that he was forced to offer you in the company of your peers. You hated him. And that’s what kept you going.

And there was nothing, nothing that could happen that could change your mind.

Methods

You wake up to your phone buzzing on the hotel nightstand. Groggily, you reach out blindly and accept the call without even seeing who it is. “Hello?” you croak into the receiver.

“Happy birthday, my favorite student!” Minseok chirps.

“Minseok, I already know that you call all of your students that.” You yawn, groaning slightly when you look at the time. “And thank you. It means a lot that you remembered.”

“First off, you’re all my favorite students, so it’s not like I’m lying to you. And second, of course I remembered, who do you think I am? I know you hate it when I mention your birthday at the conference so I figured this was the next best thing.”

“At seven in the morning, though?”

“Conference starts at eight~” he sings. “Anyways, we need to catch up! Lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure. But please don’t make me pick the place.”

“I already have the reservation. I’ll see you around!”

You sigh, rubbing your hand over your face. You had definitely hoped to sleep in for another half hour but at this rate you’d never be able to fall back asleep. You get ready lazily, taking breaks to reply to birthday messages from your family and friends. Despite what your introverted tendencies at conferences may have people believe, you actually have a bustling, active social life. You just choose to keep it separate from work, especially this week. It was the best this way, since conferences had a tendency of turning you into someone that you didn’t particularly like being 24/7. 

You’d tried that once. It hadn’t ended well.

The convention center is just a short walk from the hotel, so you breathe in the fresh, unfamiliar air as you try to blink the sleep away from your eyes. There’s a winding river in between your hotel and the convention center, and as you pass over the stone bridge, you take a moment to look out at the body of water for a moment of peace. If you had the energy for it, you’d like to explore the city, but right now you’re just trying to take it one day at a time. 

As you climb the steps to the convention center, a wave of anxiety suddenly floods through you. What if I don’t see anyone I recognize? What if I do? What if I don’t remember someone’s name but they clearly remember mine? You try to laugh it off as you wrap your hand around the door handle. These are such student thoughts. Surely you’re seasoned enough at this point to know how to do these things. You ignore the fact that there’s still a pit of unease in your stomach, settling to the bottom like a rock in water.

It’s busy, overlapping chatter from dozens of small conversations in the lobby. You don’t immediately recognize anyone you know, and you’re unsure of whether this is a good or a bad thing. You’re looking over the agenda for the morning when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi!”

Stella looks very polished in her crisp blazer and button-down, but you can see a slight nervousness in her eyes, that flighty, overwhelmed look that you used to recognize in your own reflection as a younger student. “Hi, Stella. Are you ready for today?”

“I guess so,” she chirps. “Are you attending any of the sessions this morning?”

“We’ll see,” you say. “I might have a meeting with some colleagues later but I’ll definitely see you at lunch later.” A bold faced lie, but she doesn’t need to know that. “What sessions did you have in mind?”

“I was looking at this one,” she says, pointing at the timeslot in the agenda. “It sounds interesting.”

“Oof,” says a voice that appears to your right. “Well I know you won’t be going to that.”

“Good morning, Kevin,” you say. Kevin, your other advisee, is just like any fourth year PhD student: extremely jaded, chronically tired, and completely fucking over it. “Keep your voice down, hm? We’re not in the lab right now.”

“It’s not like it’s a secret,” he says matter-of-factly. “Everyone in this room would probably lose their shit if they saw you enter that room.”

“What’s wrong with this session?” Stella says, voice hushed and eyes wide.

“Nothing at all,” you reply. “You should go if it sounds interesting to you.”

“Dr. Byun’s student is on the panel, so he’ll probably be in the room,” Kevin says bluntly. 

Even Stella, who hasn’t been a part of this world for even a full year, knows enough to nod solemnly, lips pursed. “Well, I don’t have to go to that, then.”

“I’m just messing with you,” Kevin says quickly. For all his brashness, he at least has a soft spot for her. “I think you should go. It’s not like we have to have an alliance against him.” He casts a sideways glance towards you. “Right?”

You sigh. “No, there’s no alliance. This isn’t a clique, it’s research. You should go.”

Kevin snickers. “Just don’t look Dr. Byun in the eyes. He can smell weakness.”

Stella gulps.

You make it through the morning without attending any sessions, successfully avoiding any wayward conversations until it’s time for lunch. The restaurant is beautiful and bustling with people in businesswear, but luckily you don’t recognize anyone directly. The three of you are seated by a wall of mirrors, reflecting the dining room behind you. Stella looks through the menu with a concerned eye. “All of this is really…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “It’s my treat.”

“...Alcohol too?” she asks softly.

“Welcome to grad school,” Kevin says. “We get paid dirt for five years so you might as well get some free drinks when your advisor’s offering.”

Some faculty might bristle at Kevin’s bluntness, but you welcome it with open arms. It wasn’t long ago anyway since Kevin was exactly where Stella was, nervous and overly polite (as hard as that is to believe). Since your first student graduated, you know that he’s been jumping at the chance to be a mentor. Even if it’s in his own, less than savory way. 

You don’t get a chance to decide whether or not to chastise him before the server approaches the table. “Welcome in, may I start you all off with any drinks today?” she asks.

“Yes, can I just get a mimosa to start with?” you say.

“Can I see some ID?” 

You pull it out for her and wince when she gasps. Shit. “Happy birthday!” she says.

“It’s your birthday?!” Kevin and Stella say in unison.

You put your finger to your lips to shush them. They finish ordering their drinks before they turn their attention back to you. “Happy birthday!” Stella says.

“How come you’ve never mentioned that it’s your birthday before?” Kevin asks. 

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it,” you reply. “I still don’t.”

“Well… we can pay for lunch if you want,” Stella chirps, ignoring Kevin’s glare.

You smile. “That’s very sweet of you but all I want for my birthday is to pay for your lunches and to not mention it anymore.”

Lunch continues smoothly. You like spending time with your students outside of the lab meetings or campus in general. The conversation drifts into work sometimes, but not often enough to make it seem like an official meeting. Instead, they talk about their lives: what they plan to see in the city outside of conference hours, what their summer plans are, the latest social media thing that you’re blissfully unaware of. It reminds you of your lunches with Minseok when you were in their shoes, and that thought comforts you. It tells you that you’re on the right track, that you’re doing something right with your life.

Kevin’s eyes dart behind you and a shadow of annoyance flickers across his face. “Don’t look now,” he mutters.

You don’t even have to. Baekhyun’s loud, corrosive laugh is warning enough before you see his reflection pass in the mirror in front of you. He’s here with his students too, all seven of them. Of course, ever the overachiever, he didn’t stop at accepting one grad student a year (already a considerable task given that each student needs and deserves enough attention to feel like they’re thriving). He sometimes accepted multiple per cycle, so even without counting any undergraduate research assistants, the size of his lab is easily one of the largest in your field. 

“I wonder if his students are happy,” Kevin hums as they pass. “There’s gotta be some serious favoritism, right?”

“Actually, I met one of his first years at the plenary last night,” Stella says. “She said that Dr. Byun gives them all equal attention, and he’s a really great advisor.” She wilts under Kevin’s stare. “What? I thought we said there were no alliances?”

“There aren’t,” you say pointedly. You pick at the edges of your food, trying to hide the loss of your appetite. 

“Am I… allowed to ask what happened?” Stella says timidly. “Like, is he abusive? Is he someone I should watch out for?”

You sigh. “Baekhyun and I have a complicated history. He is not abusive, and he does good science. If you ever want to collaborate with him, or with any of his students, that is your choice and you are free to do so. I just ask that you don’t involve me.”

Kevin leans over and cups the side of his mouth, whispering exaggeratedly. “That’s professional speak for he’s super smart but he’s a massive asshole.”

On your way out of the restaurant, you pass by Baekhyun’s table. A couple of his students notice you and immediately exchange glances with each other, but for the most part, you slip by undetected.

Or so you think. 

At the last second before exiting the building, Baekhyun coolly looks at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in an infuriating smirk. Bye, he mouths, winking. 

You resist the urge to punch him in the face.

“We definitely need to chat, I just loved your latest paper. Do you want to grab dinner with some friends and me tonight?” 

You nod, lips closed tightly as you swallow the mouthful of champagne. This reception has gone on long enough, you think, even if Jongin, the newest addition to your faculty, is genuinely good company. “I’m actually going to call it an early night tonight, I’m afraid. I don’t quite have the energy of you young kids anymore.”

Jongin laughs. “Well, at least I’ll be close to tenure when I’m where you’re at. I’ll take going to bed early for some job security any time. We should schedule lunch when we get back then?”

“Sure,” you smile, weariness hanging around the edges of your eyes. “Well, good night. Enjoy the rest of the conference.”

You say a quick goodbye to Stella and Kevin before hurrying out the doors and into the cool night. These are the moments of conferences that you like the most: wandering around the streets in a new city alone, alternating between looking at a map on your phone and trying to commit the surrounding streets to memory. You pause by the river again, the water now reflecting a deep midnight shade. It’s nice to have just a moment to yourself, a quiet few seconds where you don’t need to worry about looking professional. You continue on your way, ducking into a local convenience store right next to the hotel to find what you’re looking for: a small, personal birthday cake. The frosting is a little lumpy and the price is maybe a bit too high for what you’re getting, but it will do for tonight.

As you make your way back to the room, you’re too distracted by scrolling through your delivery app to find some takeout for dinner to notice that Baekhyun’s in the hallway.

“Already heading in?”

You nearly drop your phone in shock, narrowing your eyes when you see who it is. He’s already changed out of his business casual clothes and into a sweater and dark jeans.

“Skipping the receptions?” you ask. 

“The one for my university was last night.”

“I thought you went to dinner last night.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “I didn’t know there was a one social event limit per night. Are you my mom now?”

“Nice comeback. Didn’t realize we were in elementary school,” you sneer. 

Baekhyun peers around you, peeking into the plastic bag in your arms. “What’s that? Drugs?”

You laugh sharply. “Even if it was, I wouldn’t share. Go find your own.”

He grins lopsidedly, leaning his arm against the wall. “C’mon, just one peek? I wanna know what you’re getting up to that’s so good you won’t join any of the festivities tonight.”

His tone brings about a burst of anger in you. Usually you’re immune to his antics but it’s your birthday and you’re tired and all you want to do is sit on the floor of this hotel room and eat your cake in some peace and quiet. “It’s actually none of your fucking business,” you spit. 

Your outburst surprises him. You can see it on his face, the way his eyebrows knit together, lips parting ever so slightly. For all the backhanded compliments and petty arguments, you’ve never actually raised your voices at each other. He recovers quickly, running a hand through his hair, though his voice is hard enough to cut. “Well, whatever. Have fun holing up and being a hermit while the rest of us humans actually interact.”

That does it. Something deep within you snaps. Your annoyance overflows, bubbling up to the surface until you’re sure that your face is bright red. You press your keycard to the door and open it, shoving one foot in the doorway while you have one last word. “You know, I’d rather be anti-social and be by myself than spend my birthday with a fucking asshole like you, who thinks you’re better than everyone else just because your h-index is higher. Christ.”

The last thing you see before the door slams shut is the look of pure shock on Baekhyun’s face.

You take a shower just how you like it: scalding hot and incredibly long. While you’re in there, the frustrations of the whole interaction melts away. You’re actually a tad disappointed in yourself. It’s fun to make witty digs back and forth in the middle of a convention center. It’s not so fun to blow up at him, emotions vulnerable and on full display.

You’re in the middle of drying your hair and trying to come up with ways to get back at him when there’s a soft knock on the door. 

Baekhyun looks like a kicked puppy. You can practically imagine his tail tucked between his legs, ears flattened low against his head. In one hand, he holds a bottle of wine and in the other, a plastic bag of takeout.

“This is for you,” he says softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

You regard him for a moment. You have a chance here to reject him, make him feel as awful as he made you feel. You could slam the door in his face and tell him to shove that wine bottle up his ass. But…

He looks up, dark eyes shining with real remorse. Not even a hint of the smug superiority that you’re so used to seeing reflected back at you. 

You reach out and take the items from him. “Thank you,” you say. And against your better judgment, you open the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”

Baekhyun raises his eyebrows. “Oh. I didn’t think you wanted me here. I only got enough food for one. But I have some leftovers that I can grab and I can eat with you if you want.”

“Sure.” He runs next door to his room and the thought settles in that you’re about to spend your birthday dinner with Byun Baekhyun. Past you would never have imagined that it would come to this. Hell, the you from this morning would never have imagined that it would come to this. 

You eye the leftover container in his hands when he returns, identical to the one that you’re currently holding. “Is this from the same place?” 

“Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “It’s really good! I got you something different though, I remember you don’t like pork.”

“You… remember that?” You remember making some offhand comment about it years ago when he was in earshot, but it’s something that most people don’t really remember, let alone Byun Baekhyun.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I have a really good memory,” he says.

You settle onto the floor across from each other and start digging into your food. The food is really good, and it is nice to have someone with you for your birthday, you suppose. But…

This whole thing is horrifically awkward.

What do you even say to someone who you’ve only spent making passive-aggressive digs at for the better part of a decade who suddenly decides to be nice for a change? After you compliment the food and he agrees with you, awkward silence descends over the two of you like a dark cloud. You don’t know where to look— at him? The food in front of you? The floor? Even Baekhyun, who you’ve never seen fumble at a social interaction in his life, seems to be at a loss for words.

“This is… awkward, right?” you say finally, breaking the tense bubble.

He laughs in relief, the tension in his shoulders releasing. He finally fully meets your gaze. “I’m glad you said something about it. I don’t do very well when it’s quiet.”

“I’m used to it,” you say. “I’ve grown to like it a lot.”

Baekhyun frowns slightly. “How come you never told anyone that it’s your birthday? We have the same circles and no one even mentioned it.”

You shrug. “I’ve always accepted that the conference will coincide with it, and everyone’s always so busy with different meetings and session prep if I’m not busy myself. I just decided that it’s better to not take away from it and just wait to celebrate properly when I’m home with my friends and family. Minseok knows and that’s about it.”

He nods. “Oh, that’s good. I thought that—”

“You thought I was gonna be sitting in here feeling sorry for myself because I had no one to celebrate my birthday with?”

“Well… yeah, kinda,” he says helplessly. 

“I have friends, Baekhyun. They’re just not in academia.”

He hums, looking back down at his food. “Wonder what that’s like.”

You don’t really know what to say to that, so you fall back into silence, only this time it doesn’t feel so oppressive. A few minutes pass before he speaks again.

“You know…” he says sharply.  “I don’t look down on people if my h-index is higher than theirs.”

You stifle the urge to laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, really. Besides, yours is higher than mine.”

Now you laugh. “Oh, so you care enough to know whose is higher, though.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, but a smile settles on his face. “Just with you,” he replies easily. “I only care if it’s you.”

“Glad to know the feeling is mutual.” You take another bite of your food before the next thing to say pops in your mind. “Congrats on the Nature publication, by the way.”

“Thanks.” He pauses. “That’s it? No snarky comment?”

“I’m feeling generous. It’s my birthday after all.”

Baekhyun smirks. “We’ll see how you feel when the Nature paper bumps my h-index up. Then you’ll probably write a commentary hit piece on it calling it juvenile.”

“Come on, you know I wouldn’t. I’d rather just wait until next year and give you a couple of jabs here and there.”

“You’re right,” he smiles crookedly. “You wouldn’t do anything that would require any extra work.”

You fake a gasp. “Maybe I will write a commentary piece then.”

“Maybe you should.”

“I will.”

“Fine.”

You hold his gaze defiantly for a few seconds before you sigh. “I can’t. It’s actually a really good paper, Baekhyun.”

The corner of his mouth twitches before settling into a genuine smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“It helps that you cited me too.”

“Yeah, well.” He waves his hand in the air. “Something something, you’re one of the leading scholars in this research area, something something.”

“Aw, Byun,” you coo. “You almost said something nice about me.”

He snorts. “Don’t get used to it. Anyways, what was in the bag? I’m kind of hoping it’s drugs now.”

“Don’t get too excited.” You fish in the bag and pull out the cake. “You want a slice?”

“Fuck yeah, I want a slice. Do you want me to sing for you?”

“Please, no.”

He pouts. “You’ve never even heard me sing. Some have described it as life-changing.”

“Baekhyun, I can barely handle your academic ego on a good day, please don’t have one about other things too.”

“Okay, fine. I won’t sing if you promise to go out with me tomorrow.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Out? Like…?”

“Oh my God, please, don’t make it weird,” he says quickly. “Me, Chanyeol, whoever else wants to come. You can even invite someone if you want. If you don't, I'm gonna sing happy birthday to you at the top of my lungs.”

“I don’t know Baek—”

“HAPPY—”

“Okay, okay! I’ll come. Shut your fucking mouth or you don’t get any cake.” 

He laughs, really laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling up around the edges in an endearing way. You roll your eyes when he pushes the clean side of his takeout container forward, eagerly snapping his mouth shut in an exaggerated manner, but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. 

Results

Something’s… different.

You feel lighter, more at ease. You navigate the conference with less pressure on your shoulders, waving to people that you recognize and not even feeling a pit of dread when the more eager ones stop you to talk. You even sit in on a random session just because it looked interesting. When was the last time you did that?

Minseok notices this too. “You seem really good,” he remarks on the walk back to the convention center after a pleasant lunch. “Conference treating you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you say. “I went to this really good session about empathy in the workplace for different work-family conflicts. It gave me a little idea for a potential study.”

Minseok nearly stops in his tracks, eyes wide. “Okay. Who are you?”

“Careful,” you joke. “Or I won’t ask you to advise.”

“Ah, there you are,” he replies, falling back into step beside you. “But seriously, I’m happy for you if this is what you want. Don’t force yourself to go too far.”

“I won’t.”

“Seriously.” He looks at you solemnly. “I worry about you sometimes, you know? I don’t want what happened in your fourth year to happen again.”

You wince. “It won’t, okay? I promise that I’m doing this because I want to.”

He sighs. “Alright, I trust you. Hey, is that…?”

You follow his gaze and your stomach turns. It’s Baekhyun, because of course it is, and he’s heading directly towards you. 

Before last night, you would have handled this the way you always have: a stiff nod of the head, some backhanded comment about his latest achievement, and then off on your merry way. It’s gotten so common that Minseok knows not to scold you for it anymore. But now you don’t quite know where things stand. 

You think that maybe you’d just pass by each other in awkward silence before Baekhyun decides how to handle the interaction for you. He stops in front of you and…

Smiles.

“Hey,” he says. “Hi, Dr. Kim. Having a good conference?”

“Hello, Baekhyun,” Minseok replies. If he’s surprised by the friendly atmosphere, he’s doing a really good job at hiding it. “Yes, I’m having a good time. I was surprised to see you’re not presenting this year.”

“Yeah, I decided to take a more supportive role for my students this time. I think this is my first conference ever not presenting. It feels a bit strange, to be honest.”

“You’re wearing glasses,” you blurt out. 

The thin, wire frames sit prettily on the bridge of his nose, and you had never known of their existence in all those years of knowing him. He touches the side of the frames somewhat self-consciously and chuckles. 

“I didn’t get a chance to put my night contacts in last night,” he says sheepishly. “I don’t really like wearing them out, but hey, what can you do? By the way, we haven’t decided a place for tonight yet but let me get your number so I can text you?”

“Uh, yeah sure.” You pass your phone to Baekhyun and let him text himself, ignoring the way that Minseok’s gaze is currently burning holes into the side of your head. You keep studying Baekhyun’s glasses. It’s weird how something like this seems to change not only his appearance, but the entire image that you had of him in your head. It’s not like you expected him to be static all this time, to be the same year after year, but… maybe you did, actually. 

“I’ll try to let you know as soon as I can,” he says, handing your phone back, completely oblivious to the way you’ve been staring. “Bye, Dr. Kim.”

As soon as Baekhyun’s passed you, Minseok clears his throat. “Do I want to know?”

“There’s nothing to know,” you say.

“Right.”

The lounge is an upscale one, one where you have to squint at the menu to read it in the candlelight or risk the social awkwardness of pulling out your phone flashlight. The pages are full of wildly inventive cocktails with ingredient pairings only someone with way too much time on their hands would think to put together. It’s a strange group gathered here: you and Baekhyun, sworn academic enemies until about 24 hours ago; Chanyeol, someone you vaguely remember as being from Baekhyun’s graduate cohort; and Jongin, who nearly tripped over himself with excitement when you invited him along. 

“I wish Baekhyun didn’t veto my suggestion of the club down the street,” Chanyeol frowns, taking a sip of his drink. “Places like these make me feel so stuffy.”

“Well, that’s the most popular club in the city, and I’m sorry for not wanting to see my students blackout drunk,” Baekhyun snorts. He’s changed out of his conference clothes, swapping his button down shirt for a black turtleneck that even you have to admit makes him look really good. The candlelight glints off the metal of his glasses, constantly drawing your attention to them. “I think that’s taking the advisor-advisee relationship a bit too far.” 

“Should have just gone applied like me,” Chanyeol says. “Don’t have to worry about students, don’t have to teach classes, I make about twice as much as you…”

“It’s not all about the money,” Jongin pipes up. “What about, y’know… fulfillment?”

Chanyeol laughs and claps Jongin on the back good-naturedly. “Oh, to be young again.”

“Blech. No more job talk.” Baekhyun leans forward and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, smiling wickedly. “So, Jongin,” he says, jerking his head towards you. “What’s it like working with her? Is she as much of a hard-ass on everyone as I think she is?”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t need to answer that, Jongin.”

“No she’s— you’re really great.” Jongin smiles. “It’s only my first year, and she really helped me a lot with the adjustment. She even helped me pick my first incoming advisee for the fall when I couldn’t decide.”

“Aw,” Baekhyun coos. Jongin isn’t fluent enough in Baekhyun-isms to know he’s being made fun of, so you shoot him a dirty look from across the table. “How cute.”

“And she sings really well too.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows lift. “Oh? You sing around the office?”

Your ears burn bright red as Jongin continues, oblivious to your embarrassment. “No, we went to a karaoke bar one night after the conference submission deadline. Of course I sounded like a dying bird, but she really killed it.”

“Karaoke bar?” Chanyeol perks up. “We should go to one right now!”

“No,” you and Baekhyun say flatly in unison. 

“Can I at least buy us a round of shots if you’re not going to be any fun?” Chanyeol whines. 

“Sure, Yeol.” Something unreadable passes through Baekhyun’s expression, a slight flicker in the dark. “Make them doubles.”

“So… Jongin seems nice.”

The night air is cool, not holding any of the humidity present during the day. You and Baekhyun walk side by side through the back roads, away from the hustle and bustle of the main areas where other tourists and conference-goers roam. You can see your hotel just a block away. Your feet are killing you in your heels, but you resist the urge to take them off and walk the rest of the way barefoot. Somehow that seems too… intimate in front of Baekhyun.

“Hm? Yeah, he’s nice. A little skittish, but who isn’t during their first year?”

“You were?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “I always pictured that you entered that university and made everyone your bitch. Professionally, I mean.”

You laugh. “Well, no. I was a nervous wreck. I kept napping in my office because I would get so stressed during teaching that I would just crash after.”

Baekhyun nods. “And you hang out with him… casually?” 

“Just the one time. Why?”

“I dunno. I guess I’m so used to picturing you one way that it’s weird when there’s evidence to the contrary.”

“What, like, you picture me as some kind of girlboss, takes no shit from anyone, eats manuscripts for breakfast?”

“Well… yeah, kinda.” Baekhyun holds the front door of the hotel open for you. “So hearing about you going to karaoke with Pretty Boy back there kinda messes with my head.”

You stop in your tracks and glare at him. 

“What?” he asks, oblivious.

You scoff, taking off towards the elevators. Baekhyun stalks after you, calling your name. “What the fuck did I say this time?” he huffs.

“If you’re implying that there’s something unprofessional going on between Jongin and I then you’re way out of fucking line,” you say harshly. 

“Hold on, I wasn’t accusing you of anything. It was just an observation.”

The elevator dings and the two of you get in. You all but punch the button for your floor. “Just because it’s an observation doesn’t make you any less of a dick,” you mutter.

Baekhyun throws his hands up. “I’m sorry for just stating the obvious.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “The obvious?”

He laughs dryly. “Don’t be stupid. He clearly wants you.”

“Oh wow. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.”

“The kid was practically drooling hanging onto your every word. So, my bad for thinking that something was going on there.”

The elevator doors open and you rush off to your room, but Baekhyun’s hot on your heels. “Hey, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure if the two of you wanted to have a salacious affair it wouldn’t be a big deal, just don’t fuck on campus.”

You whirl around. “Jongin and I are just coworkers. And even if we weren’t, what’s the big deal? Is it that unfathomable to you that someone would find me attractive?”

“Well, of course it’s not.”

You freeze. Suddenly, your heartrate feels like it’s tripled, thudding in your ribcage. “What?”

“You heard me. Of course Jongin finds you attractive.”

You wait for the other shoe to drop, for the punch line to this cruel prank. But it never comes. He just stares at you earnestly, gaze brimming with something dangerous beneath the surface. 

“If this is a joke, this is really mean, Baekhyun,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“This isn’t a joke.” He takes a step closer. “Do you need me to spell it out for you? Of course Jongin finds you attractive, because you are really fucking hot.” He slowly reaches out to cup his hand around your arm, drawing you even closer to him. “Especially when you’re pissed,” he whispers.

“You’re drunk,” you say incredulously.

“Stone cold sober. Do I seem drunk to you?”

He doesn’t, and that’s what scares you. He seems as sharp as he always is, the gears in his head whirring away. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were eyeing me earlier when I ran into you and Minseok.”

You gape at him. “You noticed that?”

“Of course I noticed. You were shameless.” 

“Shut up,” you whisper, but your voice doesn’t hold any heat in it anymore. 

He draws in closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His hands travel down to your waist, hovering on the edge between polite and uncharted territory. “Just tell me how badly you want this. If you don’t, I’ll go to my room and we will never speak of this again. Promise.”

You swallow. Your head is spinning, heartbeat stuttering. You feel like every breath you take is much too loud in the silent hallway. He lets out an exhale, his warm breath traveling across your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine.

You don’t know why you say the next three words. All you know is that it’s true. 

“I want this,” you whisper.

Baekhyun crashes his lips against yours, your back hitting the wall. It’s a messy, frantic kiss, hungry and possessive. Your breath hitches in surprise as your brain tries to catch up with your body, your arms wrapping around his neck. You kiss him back with equal fervor, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth.

His mouth travels lower, down your jawline, sucking on the delicate skin behind your ear. “Baekhyun,” you murmur. “Inside.” You scramble around blindly for your keycard in your pocket and tap it against the door, unable to untangle yourself from him for even a second.

The moment you’re inside he’s pulling at your top, clumsily tearing it off your body as he walks you backwards towards the bed, the backs of your knees hitting the mattress. You fall backwards onto the sheets, chest heaving as you look up at him. “God,” he says raggedly, staring at your body with ravenous desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Hurry up and fuck me,” you pant. 

“So mouthy,” he huffs. He slips his ring and middle fingers past your lips, pressing down on your tongue. “Get them wet for me.”

You swirl your tongue around the digits, hollowing your cheeks as if they were his cock. He stares at you, jaw going slack. With his other hand, he fumbles with your pants and underwear, pulling them down past your thighs just enough for him to slip his hand through. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, spit trailing across your chin, before he slips them inside your cunt.

You exhale breathily as he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, leaning down to leave kisses all over your neck and chest. Your fingers thread through his hair, holding him close to you as the pleasure builds, the slick squelching sounds of your wetness growing louder and louder. Still, even as electricity starts to thrum in your blood, you refuse to give in entirely to the feeling, your lips pressed shut in a thin, firm line. Call it pride, call it ego, but you refuse to let Byun Baekhyun of all fucking people earn your moans and praise so easily.

“You’re holding back,” he calls you out. He switches the angle of his hand, grinding your clit with the heel of his palm with every thrust. “What do I have to do to hear you, hm? You want my mouth?”

“Just do better, maybe,” you bite back, raising an eyebrow. 

In a flash he’s off of you, tugging your clothes completely off of your body and discarding them somewhere on the floor. You don’t even get the chance to be self-conscious about being fully bare in front of him. He simply bends you in half, your thighs to your chest, and buries his tongue into your pussy without preamble.

“Holy fuck!” you cry out, hooking your hands around the back of your knees to hold yourself open for him. It’s sudden, your body jerking with the shock, eyes squeezing shut.

“There she is,” Baekhyun murmurs, clearly pleased with himself. His fingers resume their position deep inside of you, parting his fingers slightly to make room for his tongue between them. 

“Don’t fucking stop,” you gasp, chest heaving with exertion. The onslaught of sensation is so intense, more intense than anything you’ve ever felt before. He’s messy, spreading your wetness all over your inner thighs, but skilled. He alternates between sticking his tongue inside of you, to giving hard licks against your clit, to sucking on the sensitive nub. You look down at him to find that he’s just as wrecked as you feel, eyes half-lidded, nose and lips dripping wet, glasses askew. You bury your fingers in his hair, tugging harshly at a particular devastating suck.

He groans, eyes rolling back briefly before he changes the angles of his fingers again. This time, he hits your sweet spot dead on, your back arching off the bed.

“Fuck, right there, right there,” you whimper. You struggle to hold your legs open as he hits it again, and again, each time increasing the overwhelming tidal wave building inside of you. “I’m gonna cum,” you manage to choke out before your orgasm overtakes you, rolling through you in waves of white-hot fire. You drown in it, sparks behind your eyelids as it sears through your blood, body trembling like a livewire under his touch.

Baekhyun stands and strips himself quickly, stepping out of his clothes before climbing back onto the bed. He urges you to roll onto your stomach, propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn your head back to look at him as he settles over your thighs. “Keep them on,” you say hurriedly when he lifts his hand to take his glasses off.

He smirks. “Oh? Why’s that?” 

“You’re such an egomaniac, oh my God.”

SMACK. You jolt as his hand strikes the skin of your ass, a surprised moan ripping from your throat. “Don’t think I won’t walk out of here,” Baekhyun warns, soothing the reddening skin with his hand.

“Oh, please,” you deadpan, even as your skin tingles. “You need this just as badly as I do.”

“Maybe,” he replies. He spreads you apart and teases your hole with the head of his cock. “But judging by how fuckin’ wet you are, I’d guess that you need this pretty fucking bad. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

You don’t get to reply before he’s pushing all the way in, sheathing himself fully inside you. You both gasp in tandem, your head dropping forward onto the sheets as he pulls back out all the way, torturously slow. 

“Tell me how badly you want this,” he says, thrusting the tip of his cock in shallowly. 

“Seriously?” you whine.

He drapes himself all the way over you, his chest pressing against your back. He reaches around with one arm and holds you in a headlock, your neck stabilized between his forearm and bicep. His breath is hot against your ear, voice pitched low and gravelly.

“I said…” he murmurs, pushing the blunt head of his cock back inside of you inch by inch. “Tell me how fucking badly you want me to ruin you.”

Your head is reeling, so dizzy with want that you can’t even care anymore about keeping up this facade. You try to arch into him but he presses down on your hip firmly with his free hand. “I need it so bad,” you breathe. “Please.”

He kisses your temple and chuckles lowly. “Good girl.” He winds back and buries himself inside you, slamming his hips against yours. He lets go of your throat and pins your wrists behind your back, holding them down firmly.

You bite the covers beneath you in an effort to not be too loud, but you know deep down it’s all in vain. “Fuck, Baekhyun,” you moan, voice muffled. “More.”

“More?” he laughs breathily, upping the pace of his hips. “So greedy.” 

It doesn’t take much longer for you to feel the crest of your orgasm beginning to form. You squirm, hips wriggling underneath his weight to no avail. He has you firmly underneath him, and the thought just turns you on that much more. 

“I’m getting close,” you whimper.

You feel his hand in your hair as he presses your face into the mattress, slightly cutting off your air flow as he pounds into you. Your head grows fuzzy, voice pitching higher and higher until all that comes out are choked, pathetic whimpers. “Baek—” you mewl. The searing feeling low in your gut is hot enough to burn. “Close— please.” 

He suddenly jerks your head up, pulling your body taut. You gulp in air greedily, the sudden shift in the angle bringing about your second orgasm with an unprecedented ferocity. You shake in his grasp, mouth falling open as your body succumbs to the sensation. 

He flips you over onto your back and enters you once again, your thighs twitching through the aftershocks. Now that you can fully see his face, you can see just how wrecked he truly is. For all his taunting dirty talk, he seems just barely holding it together, a fucked-out, intense expression on his face. His hair damp with sweat, cheeks and ears flushed pink, glasses hanging low on his nose. It sends a thrill through you, seeing him like this, a sick sort of satisfaction blooming within you that comes from the knowledge that he’s just as desperate as you are. 

“Fuck, look at that,” he rasps, looking down at where your bodies are connected. You’re soaked, fluid slickening both of your inner thighs, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock. It’s so dirty but you can’t look away, can’t stop watching his cock slide in and out of you, the fluid roll of his hips, the tensing in his thigh muscles with each movement. 

“Feels so good,” you whimper, drawing him close to connect your lips with his.  “You’re fucking me so— mm, so deep.”

He shudders, hips stuttering. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes fluttering shut. 

“You like that?” You rake your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly at the strands at the nape of his neck. “You like it when I tell you you’re doing a good job?”

“Y-Yeah. I like it, shit.”

Your nails drag lightly down the sides of his neck, over his collarbone and down the expanse of his chest. “Good boy,” you coo, emboldened by his sudden gasp at the pet name. Your nail passes gently over his nipple, catching slightly over the raised bud.

“O-Oh, fuck,” he keens suddenly, tucking his head against his chest. His words are slightly slurred, drunk on the sensations, drunk on you. “I’m not gonna last long if you do that again.”

You hook your legs around his waist, locking him against you. He sputters, and you take the opportunity to slip your thumb into his mouth, cupping the side of his face with your hand. He sucks on it obediently, eyes wide and dark with wanton desperation. “Admit that you were jealous and then you can cum.”

“Jealous of what?” he huffs.

“You were jealous of Jongin earlier.” Your other hand reaches up to tug at his hair, making him whimper. “Weren’t you?”

“Yes— fuck I was.” He snaps his hips harder at the memory. “You happy?”

You smile, satisfied. With your other hand, you drag your nails back down his chest, making sure to pass over his nipple. “I want you to fill me up,” you murmur. “Cum in me, make a fucking mess.” He cums with a heated growl, pushing his hips flush against yours, cock throbbing inside of you as he empties himself inside of your cunt. He gasps for breath, leaning into your touch, nudging his face against the side of your hand. 

“Good boy,” you say, trying to steady your own voice. 

Baekhyun’s eyes suddenly open with a renewed intensity, a wicked grin forming on his face as he pushes back in. “Not fucking done,” he rasps, bending down to press your foreheads together. “Need to feel you cum one more time.”

It’s slower, softer, but no less intense, the way he winces with sensitivity, elbows shaking as he holds himself up. It’s a disaster between your thighs, his cum seeping out, dirtying the sheets below, but you’re simply too needy to care. Every thrust sends a jolt of electricity up your spine, and you don’t know whether to try and push away from it or surrender yourself to it entirely.

Baekhyun leans back, holding your hips steady with both hands as he rocks into you, head tipping back as he loses himself in the feeling. He looks like sin itself, red trails that your nails traced blooming across his chest, skin flushed and damp, lips wet and kiss-swollen. A steady stream of noise falls from his lips, barely audible over the slick noises of sex. 

“I’m close again,” you choke out, one hand gripping the sheets below you and one gripping his forearm. He presses his thumb against your clit and then you’re gone, shaking all the way through it, whimpering his name one single, broken time.

He collapses on top of you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. He kisses you tiredly, clumsily, borderline missing your lips entirely until you align your face accordingly. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. It’s different from the way he said it before. Where back then, it could have been a one-off statement said in the throes of heat, here it feels reverent. Here it feels true.

It makes you more embarrassed than anything else that just transpired. You don’t respond, don’t trust yourself to. You just hold him close to your chest in silence until darkness clings to the back of your eyelids, dragging you deep into a restful sleep.

Discussion

You wake up to the feeling of an arm around your bare waist and a body against your back. It’s comfortable, warm sunlight streaming through the windows. You sleepily watch the shadows cast by the blind slats dance across the wall, your gaze drifting down to the nightstand, then to the hotel clock.

8:32

Fuck.

You immediately spring out of bed, haphazardly pulling your outfit of the day out of your suitcase, clumsily stuffing your legs inside your slacks. “Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter under your breath.

“What the fuck?” Baekhyun mumbles. “What’re you doing?” You look back to see him sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. His hair is a disaster, sticking up every which way, but you don’t even have the time to take in this new image of him.

“Stella has her first session at nine. I told her I would meet up with her a bit early to give her a pep talk. Fuck, I have to go.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” He’s more alert now, your adrenaline contagious. “Please tell me you’re not leaving today.”

“No, my flight’s tomorrow afternoon.” You examine your appearance and try to figure out a way to look presentable and less I just got fucked in about five minutes or less. “Baekhyun, I’m not trying to be a dick, but I literally don’t have time to deal with this right now.”

“Will you be able to deal with it tonight?” His expression is timid, maybe even hopeful. It’s certainly the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. 

“Maybe? Probably? I’m sorry, I can’t think right now.” You stick your toothbrush in your mouth, trying to enunciate as best as you can around it. “Again, I’m not trying to be a dick, but…” You look pointedly at the door.

“Right. Yeah, I hope she has a good session.” He quickly gets dressed in last night’s clothing and puts on his glasses, heading towards the door. 

“Last night was—”

“Baekhyun.”

“Sorry, sorry.” The corner of his mouth quirks upward as he pauses to look back at you. “You look pretty.”

“You have twenty seconds to get out of here before I literally wring your neck with my bare hands.”

He yelps, finally pulling the door open and exiting your room hurriedly. He doesn’t see your smile when you turn back to the mirror, and how it doesn’t fall off your face for several minutes afterwards. 

You bumble through the doors with less than four minutes to spare. Up at the podium, Stella catches your eye immediately, waving her hand in a half-greeting, half-cry for help. You collect yourself and walk to the front of the room. “Sorry I’m late,” you say. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m about to throw up and faint at the same time,” she says through a perfectly polished smile. It’s actually pretty impressive, if not a little scary. “They changed the order last minute and I’m first. I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can. You’re incredible and you’re gonna kill it. We’ve gone through it a billion times and you just get better each time. You know this paper like the back of your hand.”

Stella takes a deep breath in. “I just don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“You won’t,” you say. “And if you do, no one will remember it next time, okay?” You catch the sideways glance from the moderator and nod in acknowledgement. “Alright, you’re up.”

“Kevin has a seat for you in the front row next to Dr. Kim,” she says. “Thanks for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You turn and take your seat between Kevin and Minseok, who both look equal parts concerned and relieved to see you. “How was she this morning?” 

“Freaking the hell out,” Kevin replies. “She’ll be fine, though.”

“Cutting it a little close,” Minseok whispers in your ear. 

“Sorry. Had a crazy night last night.”

Minseok grimaces. “Okay, stop. I don’t want to hear anymore.”

The session begins and Stella crushes it. You never had any doubts that she would. Watching her up there is like looking into a mirror, watching your younger self, all her dreams and ambitions and anxieties on full display. She is far from the worst speaker on the panel, delivering her presentation with an ease beyond her years. She even gets a few questions directed towards her at the end, and she answers them with the kind of confidence that you could only dream of at that age.

Stella meets the three of you outside in the hallway after the crowds have died down a little. She squeals in happiness, jumping up and down. “I did it!” she cheers.

“You did! And it was incredible,” you smile. “You handled all of the questions really well.”

“Especially that one asshole,” Kevin rolls his eyes. “I would have told him to fuck himself but your response was good too.”

“Thank you.” She sighs dramatically, her breathing rushing out in a big woosh. “I got super nervous when Dr. Byun walked in.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “What?” You have to stop yourself from swiveling your head wildly to look around for him.

“Yeah, he walked in right when the session started and he stayed in the back row. Left as soon as we wrapped up too.”

You and Minseok share a glance. Baekhyun showing up to any of your panels was a sign of trouble in past years, but showing up to each other’s students' presentations was entirely unheard of. It was especially unlike him to enter and leave without saying a word. 

“Well, you handled it like a professional,” you say. “You guys should celebrate tonight.”

“We are!” Stella chirps.

“I’ll tell you what bar so you can stay away,” Kevin deadpans. “See you next week.”

The two bicker as they walk away, and you and Minseok head in the opposite direction. “There’s something weird going on between you and Baekhyun, huh?” he asks.

You snort. “Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“In any case, I support it. You have this spark in your eye that you used to get as a student. I missed it.”

You smile softly to yourself. You always thought that your biggest motivation came from trying to one-up Baekhyun. That idea is starting to change, slowly but surely. “Thanks, Minseok.”

Can I come over?

The text stays delivered for almost an hour. You’re nearly fully packed by the time you get a response, the vibration against the nightstand almost going unheard.

Yeah

Sorry about the mess

You head next door and knock softly, only having to wait a second before Baekhyun opens it. His hair is wet, and he’s dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, glasses slightly askew on his face. “Sorry I missed your text, I just got out of the shower,” he says sheepishly.

“No problem. Can I come in?”

He swings the door open wider and you enter, eyes widening slightly at the clothes and various items scattered around the floor. Baekhyun notices your stare and winces. 

“I would’ve cleaned up a little before you came but I didn’t want to leave you waiting any longer.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just…” You laugh. “I thought you would have been really tidy. Like American Psycho clean.”

“God, I wish,” he says. “I’m kind of a disaster.”

“We just keep surprising each other this week, huh?”

“Yeah, speaking of…” His voice trails off. “Should we have the adult discussion now?”

The two of you settle next to each other on the bed, leaving a few inches of space between you that feel like miles. You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you settle them firmly in your lap. 

“Do you have any regrets about last night?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “None at all. You?”

“Not really.”

Silence.

“Um…” Baekhyun laughs self-consciously. “Is that it?” 

“I guess so.” You laugh too, a hysterical bubble that rises in your throat. “You’d think we’d never slept with anyone before.”

“I’ve never slept with a colleague,” he says, fake-scandalized. 

“Aw, are we colleagues now, Byun?” you coo. 

“What else would we be?”

Friends, is the first word that pops into your head. Lovers is the second. 

“Thorns in each other's side?” you say instead. 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, his body language already considerably more relaxed. “I guess another thing I wanted to ask is if this was just a one-time thing.”

You shrug. “I guess so, right? We’re so busy during the year and we don’t even live on the same side of the country. And last night was good but I’m not getting on a plane for a booty call.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Baekhyun mumbles. His hand drifts across the empty space between you, slowly reaching out until his pinky is pressed against your thigh. “Can it… be a two-time thing?”

You scoff, but you’re the one who kisses him in the end. 

It ends up being more than a two-time thing. He empties himself inside of you while you ride him hard, gripping his shoulders and grinding your hips down into him until his voice cracks around the edges. Later, you suck him off as a reward for getting all of his things off the floor and properly packed into his suitcase. And finally, he kneels before you in the shower, making you cum on his tongue, your moans echoing against the tile. You now lay side by side in the dark, clean and spent, although a fourth round was considered for a few minutes. Neither of you explicitly say anything about you spending the night, but the thought of returning to your own quiet room makes your stomach churn.

“Do you need to put in your night contacts?” you ask.

“I think I’ll leave them out again.” He smiles playfully. “I get the feeling that somebody really likes my glasses.”

“Oh, who might that be?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling, before falling back into comfortable silence. “Stella was really good on the panel today,” he says quietly, tracing the love bites on your neck with the pads of his fingers. 

“She was, wasn’t she? She said she saw you come in and it scared her.”

He laughs. “I deserve that, probably. I realized after I left this morning that I’ve never seen your students present. You’ve taught them really well.” He purses his lips in thought. “She reminds me of you.”

“God,” you close your eyes. “Thanks. I hope she doesn’t end up like me.”

“Believe it or not, that was supposed to be a compliment. You know that.”

“How could I know that?” Your eyes fly open and you turn on your side towards him. “We’ve spent our entire professional lives coming at each other’s throats. You hate me.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t hate you. Do you hate me?”

“Well…” Your voice falters. “I do. Or, did.” You wither under his gaze. “Oh, don’t give me that look. If you don’t hate me you sure have a weird way of showing it.”

“I thought that what we did was just banter,” he whines. “Friendly competition.” 

“Do you have ‘friendly competition’ with anyone else?”

“No,” he replies, hurt visible on his face. “You’re the only one that I thought was smart enough to take it.”

“Then why make all those comments about me being antisocial?”

“Oh, that?” He sighs, rolling on his back to look at the ceiling. “I guess that did come from jealousy. I feel like… I feel like I’m performing all the time, y’know? It’s not enough to be smart to make it in academia. You have to play the game, know whose asses to kiss. In grad school I felt like I was a circus animal, and everyone was just lining up to see me dance for peanuts.” He looks at you. “You never cared about any of that, but you’re as successful as you are. So yeah, I got a little jealous.”

You stay silent for a bit, picking your words carefully. “I used to be like that. You know I almost dropped out?”

Baekhyun doesn’t have a big reaction. Doesn’t gasp or widen his eyes. He just says softly, “I didn’t know that.”

“I did everything. I kissed up to everyone I needed to kiss up to, I did so much service, I mentored like six undergraduate students. I would have little bouts of burnout but I just accepted it as part of the job. It didn’t matter that I was getting sick all the time, or that I had about one weekend every quarter off. I kept telling myself that it was going to be worth it. Conferences were the worst. I barely slept because I was planning what I was going to say to everyone I wanted to talk to. My days went from seven to two in the morning the next day, just because I was afraid of missing out.” 

You shake your head as the feelings come back to you. “In my fourth year I hit a breaking point. I went through three rounds of R&R for a paper I had started in my first year, and then they rejected it. They said that the political context had changed so significantly that it wasn’t relevant anymore, and just like that… They killed my baby. If they had found reviewers faster, or if they had even done the reviews in less than six months at a time maybe it would be published. I could have accepted it if it just wasn’t good enough. But everything being out of my control… that was too much for me to handle.”

The memories are painful, but you keep going. “I just felt so hopeless. I had given this everything and it couldn’t even give me one thing in return. I stopped going to class, stopped going to meetings. I didn’t reply to any of Minseok’s emails. I just disappeared for like two months. To me, it felt like my entire world was ending. I grieved that paper. I grieved all the hours I put into it, all the things I had turned down to work on it. I went to Minseok’s office one day to tell him I was done, but before I even got the words out he told me to take the rest of the semester off. He told me that I had to remember what life was like outside of everything.”

Baekhyun nods. “That’s why you graduated a semester late. And you didn’t present anything that year because you missed the submission deadline.”

“Yeah. I was super embarrassed to graduate after you did, but honestly? That semester off might have saved my life. I became a person again. And now everything I do is to make sure that I still am a person outside of my work, and make sure my students are their own people as well. I don’t play the games, I don’t dance. And yeah, it’s made me lose out on some opportunities, but I’m still happy with where I am. It’s a fulfilling job and I’m proud of my work, but it’s not everything I am.”

Baekhyun’s quiet for several beats, processing the information that you’ve just given him. The gears in his head turn, and turn, and turn. 

“I think… I think it might be everything that I am.”

He closes his eyes, and you see his lip trembling in the darkness. “Ever since I knew this was what I wanted to do, it’s all I’ve had time to think about. Everything is so… loud all the time. Up here.” He points at his temple. “I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking in fifteen years. I can’t even enjoy the good parts sometimes, it’s always what’s next or how can I be better?”

Baekhyun sniffs. “I don’t really know how to be a person,” he whispers, voice delicate and sensitive. “This job gets me up in the morning but without it, I don’t think I’d ever wake up again.”

The vulnerability of his statement makes your heart twist in your chest. “Hey.” You reach a hand out and lay it on his chest. “Why don’t we practice being people tomorrow before we fly home, yeah? Let’s just walk around the city and explore. No work talk allowed.”

He doesn’t respond for a long while. “Baek?”

He inhales shakily, then intertwines his fingers with your own. “Yeah. That sounds nice.” He squeezes your hand. “I like it when you call me that.”

You hadn’t even noticed, the nickname slipping out as easily as Sunday morning. You squeeze his hand back, and you fall asleep just like this, holding onto each other in the darkness. 

Conclusion

You leave early the next morning, as early as you and Baekhyun can bear to disentangle yourselves from each other. He’s clingy when he sleeps, wrapping himself around you, mumbling nonsense while lost in his dreams. You take a moment before heading back to your room to gather your belongings to look at him, all of him. The way his hair is a total bird’s nest, how the corners of his mouth droop down into an even poutier frown. He calls your name softly, half-asleep, his voice rough around the edges.

When you return, he’s fully awake, shuffling around the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day. Bleary-eyed, he draws you in and kisses you on the forehead, almost as though he doesn’t realize that he’s done it. It’s too domestic, too endearing, and you busy yourself with adjusting the straps of your backpack until the heavy, flustered feeling goes away.

After you check out and store your luggage for the day, the two of you head out with no plan and no agenda. It’s a beautiful, sunny day, the kind with a gentle breeze that keeps you from feeling too hot. “I’m not used to just… wandering,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t even know where to go first.”

Your stomach rumbles. “How about we start with some food?”

You duck into a bakery that you happen to pass by and order some coffees and pastries to go. There’s a bit more walking before you find a nice bench by the river. You eat, watching the passerby go about their mornings. Most people leave the conference on the last day to avoid having to pay for another night at the overpriced hotels, so all that remains are the local joggers, the young parents pushing babies in strollers, elderly couples taking a morning walk.

“So, who are you outside of all of this?” Baekhyun asks. “You said that you make sure that you’re a person outside of work.”

“Well,” you say, wiping the corner of your mouth. “I read. Fiction, not journal articles. I run and hike sometimes when the weather allows. I keep a spreadsheet of all the coffee shops in my city and I’m trying to complete it by the time I’m up for tenure.”

“A spreadsheet?” He wrinkles his nose. “I bet it’s color coded and all that shit.”

“Well, of course it is. How else are you supposed to sort them?”

Baekhyun snorts. “See, you’ve surprised me a lot this week but some things are pretty predictable.”

You toss your crumpled up parchment paper at him and he yelps. “What were you like before grad school?” you ask.

Baekhyun wipes the crumbs off his hands. “I was in a band, actually.”

“No kidding.”

“Yep,” he says, popping his lips on the p. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was a good singer. I also played a lot of video games. I haven’t done anything like that in a while.”

“What about socially? Do you at least do things with other people?”

“Well, yeah, they’re just all in the field. Y’know, I have Chanyeol, some others. I’m not like… completely lonely and hopeless, you know.”

You hold your hands up in defense. “I’m just making sure! What about meeting new people? Do you go on dates?”

“I mean…” He waves his hand noncommittally. “I hook up sometimes but I don’t really do dates. Didn’t have a lot of luck on the apps and just decided it was for the best.”

“Really?” you say a bit too loudly.

“...What?”

“I just… find that hard to believe, that’s all.”

“Why?” He grins cheekily. “Tell me why you think that.”

“No.”

 “Aw, come on. Is it my good looks? My charm? My irresistible intelligence?”

You stand up abruptly. “Let’s keep walking.”

“Y’know, I think you’re really starting to like me,” he says, following close behind. 

You walk aimlessly for a long time. You somehow end up in a small square of sorts, a sprawling park with an old church in the background. Baekhyun spends a while taking some photos of the scenery, then a couple of you posing in front of things. You sneak some candids of him in turn while he explores. The more time that passes, the more he starts to seem less and less like the Baekhyun you thought you knew, morphing into something more true and real right in front of your eyes. 

“We probably have time for one more big thing,” you say, checking your watch. 

“Hm…” Baekhyun scans the surrounding area, lips pursed as he thinks. “Oh! What about that?”

Your eyes follow where he’s pointing to see a large aquarium. You nod. “That looks cool, let’s do it.”

It turns out to be a combination of an insectarium and an aquarium. 

It also turns out that Baekhyun is terrified of insects.

“I literally cannot get any closer,” he says, holding his arms to his chest in defense. He stands several steps away from the exhibit, mouth drawn in a frown.

You’re just inches away from the glass, looking at the giant spiders crawling around in the tank. “But this one’s so cool! I think he’s waving at me.”

Baekhyun fake gags. “He wants to eat you.”

“Look, I think he’s waving at you too.”

A shudder passes through his body. “Please, can we move on?”

You hurry through the rest of the insect exhibit, only stopping to look at the bugs that genuinely interest you. Baekhyun’s nice enough to keep the commentary to a minimum, although he makes no progress in getting even closer to the glass. When you transition into the aquarium section of the building, he breathes out an audible sigh of relief.

“Thank God,” he gasps. “I thought I was gonna faint.”

The aquarium is quieter. Peaceful. You float through each of the exhibits at a relaxed pace now that Baekhyun’s no longer squeamish. You pass through the themed halls, stopping at each tank to give each fish an equal amount of attention. He starts out taking pictures of all the ones that he finds pretty, or interesting, or scary, but soon his hand stops reaching into his pocket for his phone. He merely… looks. 

He has a slight smile on his face as he walks, sharp eyes darting around faster than you can comprehend, drinking in everything in front of him greedily. He coos, and ahhs, and points out his favorites to you, but for the most part he just… exists.

For the first time since you’ve known him, the gears in his head have finally stopped.

The two of you pass through a large tunnel, surrounded by water on all sides. You take a minute to rest your aching feet at a bench, sitting side by side and staring up at the sharks and fish passing overhead.

“This was so great,” Baekhyun murmurs. You turn to look at him, the lights and shadows from the water casting his face in cool shades of shimmering blue. “I feel… like I finally got some peace.”

“I’m glad.” You jostle his shoulder with yours. “Promise me you’ll do stuff like this from time to time?”

He smiles, the corners of his pink lips curving upwards. It’s a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I will. It’s more fun with you, though.”

Your gaze drifts down towards his lips and you feel a pull towards him deep in your chest. Part of you wants nothing more than to kiss him right here. Another part of you hesitates. Just as Baekhyun doesn’t know who he is outside of work, what are the two of you together? What are you outside of the conference, the hotel room? What will you be as soon as you walk out of these doors? As soon as you board your plane?

For someone whose entire job is to help explain the unknown, the unknown feels fucking petrifying right now.

“I think we should go pick up our bags now,” Baekhyun whispers. His gaze is broken wide open, vulnerable and scared. He feels it too. You’re sure of it.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice hoarse. Neither of you moves until a small child barrels through the tunnel, hollering at his parents, and just like that, the spell is broken.

Baekhyun laughs, your favorite, crinkly-eyed laugh of his. “Let’s head back,” he says at a normal volume.

You nod and stand, leaving this place behind together.

The ride to the airport is quiet. It’s funny. Even though quiet hasn’t been a stranger in the last twelve hours, this twenty minutes of silence feels heavy. But every time you look over at him, the words die in your throat. The further away you get from the city, you can’t help but worry that this was a one-time thing. You won’t see him until next year. Would things stay like this? Do you even want them to?

“I’m a bit late so we need to hurry through security,” you say when you get dropped off. You’re already taking off in the right direction, Baekhyun hurrying close behind you.

“Doesn’t your flight board in like… an hour?” he asks.

“Yes?”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Of course you’re a ‘two hours early at the airport’ person.”

“You never know what could happen!” you sputter. “There could be a backup at security.”

“You have to buy me a coffee if security takes less than ten minutes.”

“Fine,” you say. “But you have to buy me one if it’s more.”

Fifteen minutes later you’re sipping your coffee victoriously. 

“This is stupid,” he grumbles, taking a sip of his own latte. He lightly kicks your ankle under the table, maybe by accident but probably not. “You’re still stuck waiting here for 45 minutes.”

“I like the airport,” you say simply.

“You like the airport?” he asks incredulously. He shakes his head, laughing into his cup. “You’re so weird.”

You giggle, then a thought occurs to you suddenly. “I never even asked you when your flight was.”

He shrugs, chugging the rest of his coffee. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “It means don’t worry about it.”

Behind him, you see that there’s a screen with the list of all the upcoming flights for the day. You take off for it, leaving him behind.

“Hey wait—”

“Too slow!” you call back. You scan the list for his hometown airport. Then lower. Then lower.

“I wasn’t going to tell you,” he says glumly, catching up to you.

“Baekhyun, your flight isn’t for another eight hours.”

He smiles sheepishly. “I need to catch up on grading anyways.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“It’s not your fault. I never told you any different and I said I’d come with you from the start so why wouldn’t you assume that my flight would be soon?” 

“But still. You could be doing literally anything else right now.”

He shrugs, suddenly turning pink. “I just thought… I wanted to spend as much time with you as I could. Y’know, since it’ll be a while before next time.”

You fall silent then, the weight of the situation settling onto your shoulders. Suddenly the next forty minutes seem incredibly important.

“I’ll make it up to you. We can do whatever you want until I have to board.”

Whatever he wants turns out to be heading to the nearest convenience store and raiding it for snacks. You lament at the egregious price of the peanuts and he sneaks it into his basket when you’re not looking, slipping it into your hands as you walk out. 

You walk towards your gate together, swapping handfuls of each other’s snacks, talking about anything and everything as the minutes slip by. He’s invited to one of his students’ weddings in the fall, and you’re planning a weekend-long hike in the mountains. He thinks matcha is gross and you vehemently disagree.

It’s so unfair, you think, looking at his face, trying to commit all the details to memory. Just as soon as you've started to like him, really like him, you have to leave him. 

The intercom buzzes to life and they announce that your boarding group has finally been called up. “This is me,” you say quietly.

Baekhyun nods, smiling softly, sadly. “Are we close enough for a hug now?” he asks.

You have half a mind to say something snarky, some wisecrack about all the salacious things he’s done to you in the last 48 hours but he can’t hug you in public, but all you can manage is a small nod. He wraps you in his arms, the fabric of his hoodie soft against your skin. You breathe in deeply, as if doing so will make the memory of his scent stick longer. 

“Bye,” you whisper.

“It’s not goodbye. I’ll see you next year.”

You don’t know why, but you feel the sting of tears prickling behind your eyelids. He releases you halfway to look at you, and with a start, you realize that his eyes are similarly misty.

“Are you crying?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck you,” he laughs. “You’re crying too.”

He lets go of you, and with a heavy heart, you turn towards the gate.

“Wait.”

A firm hand wraps around your wrist, holding you in place. You whirl around to meet his expression, a whirlwind of frenetic emotions on his face.

“Baekhyun, I need to catch my flight,” you whisper, your voice stuck in your throat.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. But please just listen to me.” His eyes are frantic, desperately combing over your face. “This sounds crazy but I think I might be falling for you.”

“What? Baekhyun, I—”

“It might be way, way too soon to say this, but after this week I just feel like something is different between us.”

“So what are you saying? You’re in love with me?” you snort.

He huffs, frustrated. “I’m serious,” he says firmly. “I think there’s something special between us, you and I. I think maybe there always has been, and we’ve been too— I’ve been too egotistic to see it. But you’re miles ahead of the smartest person here, and you’re funny, and you’re magnetic, and you’re so beautiful, God, you’re so beautiful.”

“We live on opposite sides of the country, Baekhyun,” you say, the logical part of your brain fighting for attention, ringing every alarm bell you have. “This would never work.”

He licks his lips. “I’ve been wanting to leave my institution for a while and I’ve been interviewing. I got an offer at a university near yours. It’s an associate professor position.”

“What?”

“I haven’t told anyone. I almost passed on it because I thought that being close to you would be difficult. But fuck… the thought of going home right now and not seeing you for another year is just too much to fucking bear.”

Your head is spinning, reeling from the sudden declaration. You don’t know what to think. On the one hand, this week hasn’t been anything short of life changing. You think back to the aquarium, of the patterns of light as they dance along his face, and how the only thing you wanted in that moment was to kiss him right there. You think of the night you spent together, how you don’t think you’ve ever felt so connected to anyone before. You think of how relieved you felt to spend your birthday with someone else for a change. 

But on the other hand, the decade of hurt is almost too much to bear.

“We only just started being able to stand each other this week,” you say. “I don’t— I don’t know you, Baekhyun.”

“You do know me.” He puts his hands on both sides of your face, looking deeply into your eyes. “You know the worst parts of me. I’m a workaholic, I’m too impulsive, I have a massive ego. You’ve seen me be jealous and narcissistic and ambitious to a fault. But I hope this week you got to see the other sides of me too. The sides that I want to share more of with you.”

The way he remembers your dietary preferences years after you’ve mentioned them. The way his hair is a mess in the mornings. The way his eyes crinkle around the edges when he laughs, really laughs. The mole on the side of his lip, on his thumb, in the shell of his ear. 

You’ve spent almost a decade trying to be one step ahead of Baekhyun that you never even considered what it would be like to walk alongside him. 

“This is a lot to take in,” you say.

“Okay, yeah.” He nods. “I’m not asking you to make any big decisions now. But just… consider it? I can visit you when the semester’s over and we can spend some time together without any of this bullshit. Just us. We’ll see how we are together when there’s no work involved.”

You take in a breath. “Okay. We can do a trial run.”

Baekhyun beams, a beautiful smile reaching from cheek to cheek. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But don’t think that this means I’m gonna stop being competitive with you.”

“God, I hope not.”

He sweeps you into a kiss, one hand cupping your chin and the other resting on your back. In that moment, you forget about it all: the conference, the competition, your feelings and how they’ve changed so quickly. All that matters is the softness of his touch, of his lips against yours.

“I have to board now,” you whisper against his lips. 

“I know,” he says. He kisses you again.

“Baek.”

“Say my name like that again,” he murmurs. 

“You’re so insufferable.” You pull away from him and shrug your backpack over your shoulders, trying to feign annoyance, even though the crimson dust on your cheeks give you away. 

Baekhyun smiles softly at you, taking in one last look at your image before you leave. His eyes go soft, tender in the ways that you’re only now just getting used to. You hope that there will be many more times you see that expression.

“You like it,” he says cheekily. 

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Everything’s already been said. 

You turn toward your gate and jog to make it before they close boarding. You only look back once. He’s still there, watching you go, lifting a hand to wave goodbye.

You wave back. 

He smiles. 

You smile.

Bye, he mouths, winking.

Bye, you mouth back.

You turn your back to him and board the plane, an indescribable light feeling in your chest. It feels good. It feels right.

References

This day can’t get any worse. 

It’s the third time you’ve circled around the airport. You have a massive headache starting behind your temples, and if you get honked at one more time it might just be your fucking breaking point. You park firmly into a waiting space and put your hazards on, letting your head sink into your hands.

You’re only there for thirty seconds when you hear a knock on your driver’s side window. You groan into your palm before rolling your window down a fraction.

“Ma’am, if your passenger isn’t here you need to circle around,” the airport employee says. 

“Please,” you beg. “I swear he’s coming, just please let me wait for one more minute—”

“I’m here!” Baekhyun’s voice cuts above all the noise. Your back door is yanked open, carry on suitcase and backpack haphazardly thrown into the seats. “I’m here,” he says again. The employee nods and moves along. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Baekhyun pants, climbing into your passenger seat. His glasses are hanging on by a thread, his hair disheveled and messy. It’s gotten longer even though it’s only been a couple of months, curling around the nape of his neck. “They closed down like half the terminal so I had to take these insane detours and everything was just so chaotic—”

“It’s okay,” you cut in. You’re smiling, grinning like crazy. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says breathlessly, a smile of his own spreading across his face. “I made it.”

You don’t let him get another word in. You reach across and take his face in your hands, kissing him deeply. His lips are so soft and he smells so good and he’s finally here. He smiles against your mouth, giggling like a lovesick teenager. 

“What happened to the trial run?” he asks. 

“This is still a trial run,” you say in between kisses. “You have to really impress me this week, Byun. Then we’ll decide if you get tenure or not.”

Someone behind you honks, but you pay them no mind. All that matters is what’s in front of you, the man in your arms, and the endless, countless days ahead.

Appendix (aka where mai overexplains a bunch of things for anyone interested. the fic is over now, so feel free to stop reading, i'm just nerding out)

Revise and resubmit refers to the decision that journals make when reading submissions in which authors have a set amount of time to address some concerns, and then it goes back in for consideration. It's not a guaranteed publication if all the issues are addressed, it's more like a "maybe." It's very rare that submissions don't go through at least one round of r&r before acceptance

Baekhyun and reader are both meant to be about 4-5 years into their careers as assistant professors. Reader is about to be up for tenure, which means she will get a huge pay bump and job security basically for life. Sometimes you can move to another university and immediately secure tenure, but that's contingent on you doing well at your prior university (publishing a lot, getting good student evals, etc.) This is the position Baekhyun's in by the end of the fic.

h-index refers to a metric based on how often a person's publications are referenced. A higher h-index means that your work is referenced often, and is generally a marker for prestige and respect

Work-Home Resources Theory and Conservation of Resources theory are both valid theories. WHR was actually developed with COR in mind. Reader is wrong in her critique.

Mediation statistically explains why X -> Y. Full mediation means that the relationship between X -> Y is fully explained by M (X -> M -> Y), while partial mediation means that M explains some of the relationship, but there's something else also at work ex., social media use -> reduced self esteem -> depression vs. social media use -> reduced self-esteem + poor quality of sleep -> depression. Partial mediation is a valid finding. Baekhyun is wrong in his critique.

Originally the outdated concept Baekhyun references is named (LMX) but I took it out because this section was getting too nerdy even for me and I decided to keep it vague. The idea of LMX being outdated is very controversial. It's still being used constantly to this day.

Baekhyun having seven students at a time is basically unheard of (in my field). I know of a prof who has five students at a time and they are all pretty miserable or neglected. Baekhyun is superhuman.

I was sort of vauge about their specific field on purpose but at the risk of doxxing myself (as I wrote this from experience so their field is the same as mine) i'll just say that it's a social science (although i fear it's pretty obvious)

Nature is a very very prestigious interdisciplinary journal. To my knowledge it's hard for people in my field to publish in it, so this is a massive deal for Baekhyun.

Stella and Kevin are OCs but their namesakes are meant to be Stella from h2h and Kevin from the boyz

The structure of this fic was stolen from my favorite academia-esque au ever (baekhyun and kyungsoo: a scoping review) even though it doesn't really make sense in my case and is mostly for aesthetics

whew thanks for coming on this journey if you read this far. if you're new here i don't usually yap this much but this was very personal and fun for me to write. love ya for sticking around <3

baekhyun's body completely covers yours, his chest pressed against your back. somehow, he still has the stamina to snap his hips into yours, even after emptying himself into you less than an hour ago. it's filthy, wet between your thighs and sticky between your bodies. his lips press against your sweat-damp temple as he grinds his cock into you, coaxing out your whimpers.

"mm, tired already?" he laughs, reaching around to cup your chin with his hand and jerk your face towards him. "i'm not even close to done with you."

your body is sore, muscles raw from the friction, but you don't give a fuck—the arousal thrums through you all the same, toe-curling pulses of pleasure that zip up your spine every time baekhyun thrusts inside. you're just about to open your mouth to make a remark when you hear the distant sound of baekhyun's front door opening. it's baekhyun's roommate, back from his night out about two hours early.

you don't even get a chance to protest. baekhyun slips his index and middle fingers inside of your mouth, pressing down lightly on your tongue. he shoots you one warning look before turning his attention to his closed bedroom door.

"yo, you back already?" he yells out, his voice remarkably steady. "don't come in here, i'm taking a dump."

"gross," jongin calls back. "i'm boutta head out again, i forgot this place is cash only and i was passing by so thought i'd grab some."

baekhyun hasn't stopped. he continues to grind into you, only minutely slower than the brutal pace he set before. you squeeze your eyes shut in your efforts to keep quiet, sucking around the digits in your mouth to give you something, anything else for you to focus on.

his hips stutter, biting back a curse under his breath. "alright, i'll see ya tonight!" he says, voice wavering slightly.

"see ya, baek." there's the sound of some footsteps, and then the door clicks closed.

"holy fucking shit," baekhyun groans, pushing his fingers even further into your mouth, making you gag slightly. "you know how fucking hard it was to act normal with you sucking my fingers like that?"

he pulls out of you abruptly and flips you onto your back, throwing one leg over his shoulder as he pounds into your sensitive cunt. he grabs your chin, placing his thumb against your quivering bottom lip.

"fuck, baek!" you grab onto his forearm as tears well up in your eyes. "t-too much!"

"you can take it, pretty girl," he coos, slipping the tip of his thumb past your parted lips. he groans when you suck on it instinctively, looking up at him with watery eyes. "you look so fucking slutty right now," he whispers, the fingers of his free hand wrapping around your neck. "makes me wanna fucking ruin you."

"do it then," you whimper.

his fingers tighten around your throat as he moves impossibly faster, bringing you to the edge much, much quicker than you anticipated. there's hardly any buildup at all before your orgasm slams into you, sending your eyes rolling back as your body quakes, tongue pressing against the pad of his thumb. you gasp for breath as he releases his hold on your throat, his hands instead finding a home on your hips as he slams into you, spilling inside with a deep groan.

"fuck," he swallows, chest heaving, arms shaking as he lays on top of you. he cradles your head between his arms gently, kissing the corner of your mouth with affection. "what the fuck was that."

"i should be asking you that," you pant. "now i know to stick your fingers in my mouth if i want to get you really worked up."

baekhyun laughs. "oh no," he says sarcastically. "what ever will i do? my beautiful girlfriend wants to suck on my fingers, someone save me."

"you're so annoying," you huff. "i'm going to sleep."

"what about round three?" he pouts.

you gape at him. "you're insatiable."

"and you love it."

the party is already in full swing when you arrive, the air thick with music and the warm hum of conversation. you slip through the door, fashionably late, just as planned. you don’t intend to stay long—just long enough to show your face, to prove to yourself that you can step into the places you once shared without the past wrapping its hands around your throat.

but then the air shifts.

a current crackles through the room, something unseen and unspoken, but you feel it, deep in your bones. your fingers tighten around your glass. something in you already knows.

and then you turn.

and there he is.

baekhyun.

your breath catches, ribs caving inward, the entire world narrowing to the space between you.

he stands across the room, half-shadowed in warm, flickering light, a ghost wearing flesh and bone. his hair is longer now, the ends curling over his forehead, but the rest of him is devastatingly familiar. the same sharp lines of his face, the same dark eyes that once held the entire universe, the same lips you used to press your love into, over and over and over.

except now, he isn’t yours to kiss.

your pulse roars in your ears. you should look away. you should walk away.

but you don’t.

and then—he sees you.

and just like that, six months of healing, six months of forcing yourself to forget what it felt like to be loved by him, six months of pretending you were okay—

gone. obliterated in a single heartbeat.

his eyes find yours, and in an instant, the world stills.

wide and unguarded, they drink you in—stunned, wrecked, desperate—like he’s seeing something he thought had been lost to time, something he had no right to lay eyes on again. the breath leaves his lungs in a sharp exhale, and for a moment, nothing else exists.

the weight of it crashes into you—all of it. the longing that never faded, the sleepless nights spent staring at ceilings that weren’t the same, the words left unspoken, the wounds that never quite healed. it’s written in every flicker of his gaze, in the way his lips part like your name is trembling on the edge of them, in the way his fingers twitch at his sides, as if he almost forgets he can’t reach for you anymore.

and god—he still looks at you the same way.

like you hung the stars. like he’s spent every second of these six months searching for something to replace what he lost, only to realize there is no substitute for you. like he doesn’t know how to exist in a world where you aren’t his anymore.

your lungs seize, the air suddenly too thick, too sharp, pressing against your ribs like a vice. every part of you is screaming—run, before this moment consumes you whole.

but then he moves.

just a step—hesitant, uncertain—but it’s enough.

and that’s your undoing.

you spin away before he can say your name, before he can do something reckless like close the distance, like make you remember what his hands felt like on your skin, what his love felt like when it wasn’t breaking you.

you push through the crowd, your heartbeat loud in your ears, your vision swimming with unshed tears. someone calls your name, but you don’t stop. you don’t stop until you’re outside, until the cold air slams into you, until you’re gripping the edges of your sanity with white-knuckled fists.

the drive home is a blur.

you barely make it through the front door before the sob breaks free, shattering past your lips, raw and uncontainable. you press a hand to your mouth as if you can hold it in, hold yourself together, hold back the storm that’s been waiting six months to swallow you whole.

but it’s no use.

you barely make it inside before the weight of it all slams into you.

your back hits the door, and then you’re sinking, sliding down the smooth wood as if your body has finally given out under the pressure of holding it all in. your knees curl to your chest, arms wrapping around yourself in a futile attempt to keep from falling apart. but it’s useless. the grief, the longing, the ache that never really left—it surges. swelling in your chest, rising like a tide that was only ever waiting for the right moment to crash over you.

you thought you were past this.

you thought you had made peace with losing him.

but peace is a lie.

because tonight, for the first time in six months, you understand the cruelest truth of all.

you never stopped loving him.

you just learned how to live with the ache.

and now, that ache is bleeding again.

then—a knock.

sudden. sharp. unrelenting.

the sound rips through the silence, slicing clean through the fragile remains of your composure, leaving you breathless, frozen in place. your fingers clench against your arms, nails biting into skin as if that will somehow keep you tethered, as if that will keep you from unraveling completely.

you squeeze your eyes shut, willing it to be nothing.

a neighbor. a mistake. your imagination, playing cruel tricks on an already fragile heart.

but the knocking doesn’t stop.

each one lands heavier than the last, a relentless rhythm that reverberates through the door, through the walls, through the fragile distance you’ve spent months trying to build between you.

it shakes the air. shakes you.

but you don’t move.

because if you stay still—if you ignore it, if you pretend, if you don’t acknowledge the way your heart is already clawing its way up your throat— then maybe you can convince yourself it’s just the wind. just the night pressing in too close. just the ghosts you’ve spent too long trying to bury.

but then—

his voice.

low. frayed at the edges. thick with something desperate, something breaking.

and suddenly, it’s not just the door that’s rattling—

it’s you.

“please, sweetheart.”

his voice is a threadbare whisper, unraveling at the edges, slipping through the cracks in your resolve like smoke—thin, desperate, impossible to hold back.

your fingers curl into fists.

don’t.

“i know you’re in there.”

your breath stumbles.

don’t.

“just—just talk to me.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your back harder against the door, as if that might keep him out, as if that might keep your heart from remembering the way he used to say your name, the way his voice used to wrap around you like warmth, like safety, like love.

don’t open the door. don’t—

but then—

softer. more shattered.

“i don’t know how to do this without you.”

and that? that is your undoing.

your chest caves. your resolve crumbles like ash in the wind.

your fingers tremble as they reach for the lock, hesitation curling around your ribs like something living, something breathing, something begging you to stop.

but you don’t.

the door swings open.

and then—

there he is.

baekhyun stands before you, breathless, his chest rising and falling in uneven, desperate waves, like he’s just sprinted through the night with nothing but your name on his lips. the dim glow from your apartment spills out onto him, casting long shadows across his face, softening the sharp edges of a man who looks like he’s been coming undone for months.

his hair is damp, strands clinging to his forehead, darkened by rain or sweat—you can’t tell. the droplets trailing down his temple catch the light, glistening like the ghosts of tears unshed. his lips part on a shaky inhale, trembling as if he has a thousand things to say but no idea where to begin.

his eyes—god, his eyes.

they roam your face with a kind of frantic hunger, flickering over every inch of you like he’s trying to memorize you all over again. his gaze lingers on your lips, on the furrow in your brow, on the way your fingers still tremble from the weight of opening the door.

like he doesn’t know where to look first. like he’s afraid this is the last time he’ll ever get to see you.

there’s something broken in the way he stands, something unraveling in the way his shoulders shake just slightly, in the way his hands curl into fists at his sides, like he’s physically holding himself back from reaching for you.

he looks wrecked.

and the worst part?

so do you.

the months apart did nothing but carve the longing deeper into the spaces between you.

you see it in the taut set of his jaw, in the way his throat bobs as he swallows hard—like he's choking on words he doesn’t know how to say. in the way his fingers twitch at his sides, restless, aching, like they’re fighting against invisible chains.

he wants to touch you.

you feel it in the charged air between you, in the way his hands flex—subtle, barely-there movements, but you know him too well to miss them. they betray him. betray the way he still remembers the shape of you beneath his fingertips, the way his body still aches for what his mind should have long forgotten.

but he doesn’t move.

so you do.

it’s barely a step, just a shift in weight, just enough to close some of the aching, yawning emptiness stretching between you. just enough to pull him back into your orbit. just enough that you can breathe him in again—the faint scent of soju on his breath and something achingly familiar that slams into your chest like a wrecking ball, knocking the air from your lungs.

“why are you here?”

your voice is sharper than you mean for it to be, a blade honed from sleepless nights and the echoes of all the words you never got to say. you need it to be sharp. need it to keep you from crumbling.

baekhyun exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his already-mussed hair, his fingers digging into the strands like he’s trying to physically hold himself together.

“you left the party,” he breathes, voice frayed, accusation and anguish tangled in every syllable.

your stomach twists. you know.

“of course i did,” you whisper, but the words barely make it out. they taste like regret, like all the nights you spent convincing yourself you made the right choice.

his jaw tightens, his hands clenching at his sides. his eyes darken—something unreadable storming behind them, something wrecked, something dangerous.

“why?”

you laugh—short, hollow, bitter. because is he actually serious right now?

“why?” you echo, your chest tightening, your breath unsteady. “baekhyun, what do you mean, why?”

his brows knit together, frustration flickering beneath the devastation in his gaze. “you saw me. we saw each other. and you just—ran.”

his words land heavy between you, thick with something wounded, something disbelieving, like he still can’t wrap his head around the fact that after everything, after all the pain and all the silence, you still chose to walk away.

your breath stutters, a sharp, humorless laugh escaping before you can stop it. “and what was i supposed to do, baekhyun?” your voice shakes, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “stand there and catch up? talk about the fucking weather? joke about how we both somehow managed to survive without each other?”

his face twists—like your words physically hurt, like you’ve just shattered something in him he didn’t think could still break.

and you hate it.

hate the way he looks at you, like you just said something unspeakable. something wrong.

his voice dips, quieter now, edged with something sharp, something raw enough to make your breath hitch.

“is that what you've been doing?”

your chest tightens.

his head tilts just slightly, dark eyes cutting through the fragile walls you've spent six months building, piece by painstaking piece. walls meant to keep him out, meant to keep you from drowning in everything you swore you were done feeling.

“surviving?”

your throat locks up.

because that’s exactly what you’ve been doing.

just surviving.

pushing forward, one step at a time, forcing yourself to heal, to move, to pretend that every inch of space you put between you and him was a step toward freedom.

except—it never felt like freedom.

it felt like trudging through an endless winter, each day as colorless as the last, the cold gnawing at your skin, your bones, your heart. it felt like breathing through cracked ribs, forcing air into a chest that no longer knew how to hold it.

it felt like absence.

like missing him wasn’t just something you carried—it was something that lived inside you. something curled around your ribs like a vice, tightening with every quiet moment, every late-night silence too heavy to ignore.

because no matter how far you ran, no matter how many times you told yourself you were fine, you still felt him.

in the way the sheets never held warmth the same way they did when he was wrapped around you. in the way love songs didn’t make sense anymore, the lyrics once so sweet now feeling like a cruel joke. in the way your hands sometimes reached for a phantom touch, an old habit burned into your skin, only to close around nothing.

and every night, when the world stilled—when there was nothing left to distract you—he was still there.

his voice. his hands. the way he used to say your name like it was something sacred.

the echo of him still lived in your bones.

and when you look at him now—when you see the way his fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for you, like he’s fighting the urge with everything in him—

when you hear his breath catch, see the way his lips part as if waiting, waiting for you to deny it, to tell him he’s wrong—

you think, god, he feels it too.

“yes,” you squeak, the word barely escaping your lips.

“yeah?” he tilts his head, one brow arching, skepticism laced in his tone. “and how's that been working out for you?”

“just fine,” you lie—smooth on the surface, but brittle beneath.

his brows draw together, the crease between them deepening as he exhales, slow and uneven, like the weight of this moment is pressing down on him from all sides. his hand drags down his face, fingers scraping over his jaw, his lips, like he’s trying to ground himself—like he’s trying to hold himself together and failing miserably.

“fuck, sweetheart.”

the words slip from him on a breath, rough, tired, wrecked. he shakes his head, his shoulders rising and falling with the force of something frustrated, desperate, breaking.

“do you really think i don’t know you well enough to tell when you’re lying?”

your breath catches, chest tightening like a vice.

because of course he does.

of course he still knows you like this, still sees through the cracks, through every brittle excuse, every hollow word you try to wield as armor. he always could—always read between the lines of what you said and what you meant, what you held back and what you wished you could say.

his eyes meet yours, and suddenly, you can’t breathe.

dark. aching. relentless.

he isn’t just looking at you—he’s looking through you. peeling back every layer you’ve carefully rebuilt over the last six months, stripping you down to something fragile, something raw.

“because i do.”

his voice is steady now, deliberate, each syllable landing like a stone between you. final. undeniable.

“just like you know me.”

your stomach twists, something sharp curling in your chest, something terrifying and familiar all at once. your pulse stumbles, rushing, desperate, trying to outrun the truth you don’t want to face.

because he’s right.

you do know him.

every version of him. the one who used to whisper your name in the dark like a secret meant only for you. the one who held your face like you were something precious, something irreplaceable. the one who kissed you slow, unhurried, like you had all the time in the world.

the one who’s standing in front of you now, looking at you like nothing has changed—like everything has.

you know the way his lips twitch when he’s trying to hide a smile. you know how his voice sounds when he’s half-asleep, half in love, murmuring your name against your skin. you know how he gets quiet when he’s hurt, how he digs his teeth into his bottom lip when he’s fighting the urge to say something he can’t take back.

you know him too well, and that’s the problem.

your fingers twitch at your sides, aching with a need so familiar it terrifies you. to reach for him. to close the space between you, to pull him in and bury yourself in the warmth of him, in the scent of him, in the quiet comfort that used to feel like home.

to pretend these last six months never happened.

but you don’t.

instead, you bite down on your lip—hard. the sting anchors you, sharp and immediate, a necessary pain to keep you from crumbling, from folding under the unbearable weight of him.

“we were bad for each other, baekhyun.”

the words scrape up your throat, raw and jagged, like chewing glass, like swallowing something broken. and maybe you say it just to convince yourself, to cement it as truth, to make this hurt mean something.

but he doesn’t flinch.

he just watches you. silent. steady. unshaken.

his gaze is unwavering, searching, like he’s waiting for you to stop lying—to him, to yourself.

his lips part, brows knitting together, the tension in his body coiling tighter, braced for the next blow.

“we had problems.”

his voice is quieter now, measured, careful, like he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing, like he knows this moment is balancing on the edge of something dangerous.

“yeah. i know that.”

a breath.

a pause.

and in the silence, the ghosts of every fight, every misstep, every night spent on opposite sides of the bed claw their way back to the surface.

but so does everything else.

the laughter. the love. the way he used to look at you like you were the only thing that had ever made sense.

and suddenly, you don’t know which memories are heavier.

then—

“but tell me—” his voice dips lower, rougher, desperate. “what part of us wasn’t worth fixing?”

and god—the way he says it.

the way his voice cracks on the last word, the way his fingers flex at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to hold you, to shake you, to do anything to make you hear him—

it knocks the air from your lungs.

because for all the breaking, for all the mess, for all the nights spent tangled in fights that never should’ve happened—

he’s right.

and you don’t have an answer.

“tell me,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath uneven, his hands twitching like he’s holding himself back, like he’s resisting the urge to reach for you the way he always has. “because i swear to god, if you can look me in the eye and tell me you never want me back, that you’re happier without me, that we were some kind of fucking mistake, then—”

he stops.

his voice catches, cracks on the weight of the words he can’t seem to force out, his throat working around a confession that tastes like blood, like grief, like loss.

he exhales sharply, jaw tightening, eyes dark with something desperate, something breaking.

“then i’ll leave,” he breathes, voice wrecked, a quiet surrender pressed between you like the final crack in something already shattered.

his hands curl into fists at his sides, knuckles turning white with the force of everything he’s holding back. every emotion, every plea, every desperate thing he wants to say but doesn’t know how.

“but if there’s even a part of you—” his voice is raw, thick with something breaking, something fraying at the edges. “even the smallest fucking part of you— that thinks i’m worth fighting for the way i find you worth it, then please, sweetheart, tell me now.”

the silence that follows is suffocating.

it stretches between you, thick and electric, buzzing with everything unspoken, everything aching. the pull between you crackles, hums in the air, in the space neither of you ever truly let go of, in the places he still lingers.

his chest rises and falls, each breath unsteady, each inhale sharp like it hurts to breathe in a world where you might walk away. he looks at you like he’s bracing himself for impact, for rejection, for the moment you rip out his last shred of hope and leave it bleeding between you.

and you—

you don’t know how to tell him that it never left.

the love, the ache, the yearning—it’s still there. still woven into your ribs, still stitched into every part of you that remembers what it felt like to be loved by him, held by him, cherished like something sacred.

your fingers tremble.

your throat tightens.

and his eyes—god, his eyes—are pleading, searching, drowning in something he’s too afraid to name.

waiting.

waiting for you to tell him the truth. or for you to destroy him completely.

your heart pounds, racing beneath your skin, screaming at you to run, to push him away, to tell him you’re past this, that you’re better off without him, that you don’t still feel him like a phantom in your bones.

but then his hands move before he can stop himself.

his fingers tremble as they lift to your face, hesitant, uncertain—like he’s afraid you’ll flinch, like he knows he’s crossing a line neither of you can come back from.

you don’t pull away.

his palms settle against your skin, warm and familiar, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones in slow, reverent strokes. his breath is uneven, his lips parted like he’s waiting—waiting for you to say something, anything.

and when you do, it’s so quiet, so breathless, that it barely exists at all.

“yes.”

his breath catches. his fingers twitch against your skin.

“yes,” you repeat, firmer this time, voice trembling under the weight of everything you’re too afraid to name. “you’re worth it.”

his eyes flicker, dark and heavy and desperate, and before you can blink, before you can even take your next breath, he’s on you.

his lips crash into yours, devouring, unrelenting, starved.

the kiss is brutal—all teeth, all tongue, all months of agony unraveling at once. it’s desperate, frenzied, a collision of everything left unsaid, every sleepless night spent aching, every second of waiting and yearning that nearly drove you both insane.

your fingers tangle in his hair, pull, drag, clutch. keeping him close, keeping him here, making sure this is real—that he’s real.

his grip on your waist is unforgiving, bruising, possessive, his fingers digging into your skin like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his grasp again, like he’s trying to anchor himself to you, to this moment, to the gravity of finally having you back.

his teeth graze your bottom lip, his breath ragged, uneven, wrecked with hunger, and you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed between you as your nails rake down his back, clawing at him, dragging him impossibly closer.

he groans, deep and guttural, a sound that shoots through your veins, scorching, consuming. he swallows the sound of his own ruin, pressing you back against the wall, his body flush against yours, his hips against yours, every inch of him demanding more.

the air between you is thick, charged, a live wire of need and devastation.

when you finally part for air, you don’t go far.

his breath is ragged against your lips, hot and desperate, thick with months of longing. his hands are everywhere, gripping, holding, pulling— like he can’t believe you’re real, like he’s terrified you’ll slip away if he doesn’t keep you close.

“thank you, angel,” he whispers, over and over, between kisses, between gasps, between the frantic way his fingers push your clothes from your body.

“thank you, thank you, thank you—”

“baekhyun—” you choke out, fingers threading through his hair, tugging, pulling, needing.

his name has never felt so heavy on your tongue.

his hands tremble as he sinks to his knees, his lips trailing down your stomach, his fingers digging into your thighs, pressing them apart as he breathes you in like he’s spent six months starving for this exact moment.

“missed you,” he murmurs against your skin, voice breaking, pressing his forehead against your navel, like he needs just a second to collect himself, to ground himself in the reality that you’re here, with him, letting him have you again.

“missed you so fucking much, sweetheart.”

you tilt his face up, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him back to you.

“i missed you too,” you whisper, your voice cracking. because it’s true, because it’s been unbearable without him, because every night has been spent aching for this—for him, for his hands, for his voice, for his love.

“don’t wanna be without you again,” you confess, blinking back tears. “don’t know how to exist without you.”

baekhyun exhales sharply, his grip tightening, his whole body shaking.

“i promise you’ll never have to,” he breathes, surging back up, crashing his lips into yours like it’s the only way to prove his words.

his hands skim, grip, roam, like he’s making sure he remembers every inch of you.

clothes are lost, thrown somewhere in the haze of it all, and then—

he’s there. pressing into you. lining himself up, his body hovering over yours, his forehead resting against yours, his breath heavy, uneven, shaky.

his fingers trace over your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, his touch almost reverent.

“so pretty,” he breathes, voice barely above a whisper, almost in disbelief.

then, lower, deeper, raspier—“so fuckin’ perfect.”

and then he’s pushing in, sinking into you inch by inch, stretching you open again, fitting against you like he never left, like your body still remembers exactly how to take him.

your lips part around a gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, your chest arching into his as he presses deeper, slower, like he’s savoring it, like he’s trying not to break completely.

his breath shudders, his hands trembling as he grips your waist, his hips pressing flush against yours as he bottoms out.

“fuck, baby—” his voice catches, wrecked, strained.

you clutch his face, force him to look at you, to see what he does to you, to see how much you still want him, how much you’ve needed this, needed him.

“look at me,” you murmur, breathless.

his pupils are blown, wide and dark, hazy with too much love, too much want. his jaw clenches, his lips parting like he wants to say something but can’t find the words.

“don’t look away,” you plead. “stay with me.”

“never leaving,” he swears, his hands gripping your hips like a promise, his mouth crashing against yours just as he starts to move.

slow at first, deep, deliberate, each thrust measured, each roll of his hips meant to remind you— remind you of him, remind you of what you’ve been missing, remind you why you were never supposed to be apart.

“so good,” he groans, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he drives deeper, his voice coming apart.

“feels like you were made just for me, sweetheart.”

you moan, your nails scraping down his back, dragging him even closer, tighter, deeper.

“i was,” you whisper, right against his ear, voice trembling, breath uneven.

“i was always yours, baekhyun.”

his hips stutter, his breath hitching as he chokes out a curse, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin.

the pace builds.

faster. harder. more frantic, more desperate, more overwhelming.

he kisses you between thrusts, moaning into your mouth, whispering against your lips—

“never letting you go again.”

“you hear me, sweetheart? never.”

“you’re mine.”

“mine, mine, mine. all fucking mine.”

and you are.

your body arches beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist, hands gripping his arms, his back, holding onto him like you’ll never let go.

“i love you,” you gasp, your head falling back, your voice wrecked, broken.

his pace stutters, sharpens, grows messy.

“say it again,” he pleads, his forehead pressed to yours, his eyes locked onto yours, like he needs to hear it, needs to see it in your face when you fall apart around him.

“i love you.”

his lips brush yours, soft and shaky.

“one more time, sweetheart—”

“i love you, baekhyun.”

and that’s it.

he gasps, groans, shudders—

and when you cum, so does he.

your back arches, your body tenses, his name spills from your lips, and he’s right there with you, moaning into your mouth, burying himself as deep as he can, his hands holding you close as he lets go completely.

the aftershocks pulse through you both, bodies still trembling, breaths still uneven, still tangled in each other like you were never meant to be apart.

but he doesn’t pull away.

he stays inside you, wrapped around you, breathing you in like he never wants to forget the way this feels.

“i love you so much,” he whispers, his lips trailing over your temple, your cheek, your jaw.

“i love you too,” you whisper back, fingers slipping through his hair, stroking gently, grounding him, grounding yourself.

the silence between you is warm. heavy. full.

his arms tighten around you, his nose brushing yours, his lips pressing against your forehead like a silent vow.

“never leavin’ each other again,” he murmurs.

“never,” you echo.

and this time, you both mean it.

“He’s such a fucking bum,” Baekhyun sighs. He throws the crumpled piece of paper in the air and it lands on your chest. “Who dumps people with a handwritten note?”

“That was so like him though,” you grumble. “He was so anti-phone. Every time I showed him a reel he would say, you know that stuff is rotting your brain, right?”

Baekhyun turns back from his position on the floor to look at you, scandalized. “You were sending him reels?”

“Yes?” You roll your eyes at his pout. “You know that you don’t like, own Instagram right? I’m allowed to send reels to other people besides you.”

“You’re not allowed to send reels to people that dump you through a handwritten note slid under your door.” He turns back around and leans his head back on the couch, the top of his head nearly touching your thigh. “You’re okay, though? You don’t seem very torn up about it.”

“What if I was?” you hum. “Would that be so terrible?”

“Are you?”

You aren’t. You’d dumped others and been dumped so many times but you’d never actually experienced heartbreak. It never felt real enough to you to feel the hurt. You’d simply nod and move on, blocking their numbers before you were even out the door. Baekhyun called you a sociopath, you called yourself realistic. Besides, who is he to judge anyways? How many nights have you spent rubbing his back because the pretty girl at the bar ghosted him? You think about saying this, but that wouldn’t be a very nice thing to say to your best friend, who was kind enough to open his door to you at midnight with no questions asked.

“He sucked,” you say instead. 

“I could have told you that. I don’t think he knew my name. He just called everyone ‘bro.’ Even you.” 

“He always made us split the bill when we went out.”

“I’m pretty sure he was trying to flirt with Jongin’s girlfriend last week.”

“He never ate me out.”

Baekhyun chokes, and for a second you think that maybe, for the first time in your fifteen years of friendship, you’ve gone too TMI. He makes that sound again, a strained, choking sound high in the back of his throat. 

Then you realize that he’s laughing.

“Fuck off,” you mumble, tossing a throw pillow at his head. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wheezes. Is he wiping a fucking tear from his eyes right now? “It’s just like – go fucking figure, y’know?”

“What do you mean?” 

He turns around to fully face you, still trying to stifle down his giggles. “Like, if there’s a guy who treats his girlfriend like shit there’s like a 90% chance he won’t go down on her either.”

Your eyebrows crease together. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Why not?” he asks. “Like if a guy is a piece of shit he wouldn’t want to do something that’s solely for her pleasure. Of course he’d never turn down a blowjob, but the other way? No way.”

“But I don’t think it works the other way, right?” you say. “Like a guy can be a good partner but not do it.”

“I mean everyone has their preferences, I guess but a downright refusal without a good reason is kind of a red flag.” He raises an eyebrow. “Why are you getting defensive about this?”

“I am not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I guess ‘cus like… I’ve had partners that weren’t shitty people.”

Baekhyun falls silent, eyes wide and incredulous. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”

You groan and cover your burning face in your hands. “Can we drop it?”

“No one’s ever gone down on you?” he asks. 

“Baek…”

“That’s fucking insane,” he mutters.

“Okay, well, since you’re the fucking sex expert how many times have you done it?” you spit out. You sit up, fully looking him in the eyes. The teasing glint is long gone now, replaced by something that you realize is close to pity.

“Like… every time?” he says weakly. 

“Every time,” you repeat, voice flat. “Every time you hook up with a girl you go down on her?”

“I at least offer!” 

A bitter silence falls over the two of you as you turn over this new piece of information in your head. Of course it’s something that you’ve thought about from time to time, but you always just thought it was something optional. A little appetizer to the main course. And you don’t get an appetizer every time you get a meal. But as you think back to all your partners, all the excuses that they gave you for not wanting to do it, you can’t help but feel… bad. Was there something about you that made all your partners not want to go down on you?

“It’s nothing wrong with you,” Baekhyun says. He has a funny way of doing that, assuming what you’re thinking without you saying anything. “I think you just happen to only date terrible people.”

“Thanks, Byun.”

He shrinks away. He knows you only call him that when you’re pissed. “Hey,” he says softly, tugging at your pajama pant leg. “I could do it for you if you wanted.”

You nearly shoot up straight in your seat. “Excuse me?” 

He holds his hands up in front of his face, anticipating you to smack him. “I’m being serious. Just so you could see what all the hype is about.”

It’s not an immediately horrible idea. It was just a favor, a way for you to test the waters. But still, thinking that Baekhyun is (objectively) good looking and pretending that you don’t occasionally fantasize about him from time to time (which is a totally normal thing to happen to best friends) are completely different things from, well, actually having sex with him. 

“Is it going to be weird?” you ask. “Y’know, after?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think so. I’ve had lots of meaningless sex.”

“Ouch.”

“You know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes. “I mean that we’re not going to fall in love or anything just because I put my mouth on you. You’ll still be my best friend.”

“Besides,” he continues. “Won’t it feel better knowing that it’s coming from someone who cares about you? Instead of some rando who won’t pay for dinner?”

“Can you please be nicer about my dating history?”

“Date a normal guy then I'll see.” Baekhyun sticks his pinky out towards you. “We can drop it right now and I’ll never bring it up again, I swear. But if you’re interested… I’m offering.”

As you stare at his outstretched pinky, you think one more time that maybe this is a bad idea. Then, your treacherous mind betrays you. How bad could it be? It was only a one time thing.

“You better be good,” you say, hooking your pinky with his.

He grins cheekily. “Never had any complaints.”

The two of you wisely decide to not do anything that night, to give you both some time to think about it and maybe even back out. You almost do. Several times, in fact. But the curiosity always wins out over the anxiety in the end. One week later, you’re in your own apartment, sitting next to each other on the side of your bed. He’s freshly showered, and he smells like your shampoo (he always uses too much), and suddenly this is feeling too real.

“It’s just me,” he says softly, noticing your nerves. “Do you want to back out?”

You hesitate for only a second before firmly shaking your head, as if doing so could convince the butterflies in your stomach to settle. “I’m ready.”

Baekhyun’s eyes flutter shut as he leans forward, pursing his lips the slightest amount. A strange feeling, a mix of overwhelm, panic, and maybe even manic laughter fills your chest. “Wait,” you blurt out.

He opens his eyes, biting back an exasperated sigh. “We can stop.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s the… can we not kiss?”

There’s a pause, before he throws his hands up in disbelief. “No kissing?” 

“You said it yourself, this is meaningless. And kissing just kinda makes it mean something to me?” Your voice shrinks with every word, wilting under the incredulity of his gaze. 

“Meaningless wasn’t a good word,” he says quietly. Almost regretfully. “But yeah. Okay, we can skip the kissing.” He has an unreadable expression for a moment before he shakes it off, replacing it with the easygoing air that you’re used to. “Not sure how you want to get in the mood without it but–”

The words die on his tongue when you abruptly pull your shirt over your head, reaching back to unhook your bra before you have the chance to feel self-conscious about it. His gaze drops down, eyes widening almost comically. You shove the rest of your clothes down your legs and shift onto the bed so that you’re laying back against the pillows. “You’re the expert,” you say, trying to ignore the way that your voice is trembling slightly. “So show me how you get started.”

Baekhyun swallows, trying to not be too shameless in the way he’s staring at your body, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips slightly before he settles in between your legs. “Can I–?” he says carefully, his hand brushing against your waist.

“Do anything you want to do,” you exhale. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.”

He lays down onto his stomach and spreads your legs, hooking his arm under your thighs. Your eyes flutter shut of their own accord, breath hitching in anticipation. What if you don’t like it after all? you think. What if he doesn’t? What if there actually is something wrong with me and he’s just like the rest of them? 

A small gasp rips from your throat when you feel his lips on your inner thigh, brushing lightly at first before kissing the plush skin there. Your heart is hammering behind your ribcage, muscles tensing when he switches to the other side. You feel exposed with your core so close to his face, even more so since you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. 

After what seems simultaneously like a lifetime and a lightning flash, he finally focuses his attention onto your pussy. He starts slow, licking a long stripe up the length of your cunt, flicking his tongue at the top. Then his mouth descends, tongue dipping into your pussy, a low and almost inaudible groan leaving his mouth.

“Ah–” You let your head tip back against the pillows, eyes falling shut as he works his mouth over you. His tongue is so wet, lips so soft. You lose yourself in it for a while, slowly getting used to the feeling of him, the slick noises between your legs make you less embarrassed as each second slips by. 

His lips abruptly seal over your clit and you jolt when he starts to suck. Your legs twitch in his hold of their own volition, your fists scrambling to clutch the sheets below you. “Oh, that feels good,” you gasp, your voice coming out breathy, foreign to your own ears. 

Baekhyun repeats the motion, losing his grip on one of your thighs to bring the pads of his fingers to your dripping hole, shallowly thrusting the tips inside, flirting with your entrance. You buck your hips, inviting him in, pulse pounding in your ears as the pressure in your stomach continues to build higher and higher.

The second that he slips his fingers completely inside of you, you know that it’s over.

Long, slim digits slide inside of you, searching for the one spot that will make you break, mouth still working over your clit, alternating between sucking and licking. “You like that?” he asks, gaze burning, studying your expression.

“Yes, yes, don’t– nn, don’t stop,” you moan, hips moving unconsciously. “Baek—!”

He groans against your skin, and the sound of his voice, usually so light and airy, pitched lower with thinly disguised desperation, sends a new wave of arousal pulsing through you. “My hair,” he gasps, pulling away from you for a second. You look down to meet his gaze and are nearly bowled over by the sight of him: expression dark and thick with lust, lips pink and wet, dripping with you. “Put your hand in my hair.”

Your fingers sink into the soft locks of his hair, pushing his face against you. You’re practically riding his face now, but you don’t care, can’t care when it feels so good. WIth a final cry of his name, his mouth and his fingers bring you to the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you, crackling like static in your veins. Your back bows, arching into him, your grip on his hair borderline painful. He keeps going, prolonging the pleasure until it becomes too much and you’re softly pleading for him to give in.

“Holy fuck,” you say finally. 

“Good?” he asks. You look down to find him smirking playfully, equal parts annoying and endearing. 

“Solid 8 out of 10,” you reply. “Always room for improvement.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and gets up, handing you your clothes from the side of the bed. “I just gave you head and you wanna be smart with me.” He stands and your eyes widen when you see his sweatpants. 

He’s hard as fuck.

“Do you want– um–” Your eyes flick away, trying to look anywhere but at it.

“Nah, it’s all good,” Baekhyun replies easily. If he’s embarrassed, he doesn’t show it, even if his voice sounds rough with need. “This was supposed to be for you.”

“Oh. Okay.” The reminder of all this is— a one-time favor— hits again. You try to pretend that you’re not disappointed. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure, but I get to pick.” He nudges you to scoot over and slides into bed next to you as if nothing’s changed, as if things are going to go back to normal just as easily as they had skewed from it.

Things don’t go back to normal. 

How could they? Both of you had been too stupid, too naive (too hopeful?) to think otherwise. Baekhyun casts glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking, and you find yourself zoning out into his face until he has to snap in front of you. When he feeds you a bite from his meal, as he always does, you notice the way that he swallows, gaze drifting to watch your lips close over his fork.

It’s torture. You can’t even get yourself off without thinking about the feeling of his mouth on you. Seeking other people is out of the question entirely because now that he’d shown you exactly what you’d been missing, how could you ever settle for anything less? You throw yourself into anything you can: work, exercise, picking up abandoned hobbies. Anything to get your mind off of him, off the sound of his voice when he’s turned on, the feeling of his hair in your fist…

“Are you like… okay?” 

You blink back to reality, back from where you’ve been watching Baekhyun walk to the restroom, back to focus on Kyungsoo in front of you. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you say, eating a fry to distract yourself. “Just been a bit distracted lately.”

Across the table, Kyungsoo narrows his eyes inquisitively. “Distracted by… Baekhyun?” he says carefully.

You deflate. “Is it that obvious?”

“Um… yes? I feel like I’m third-wheeling the two of you more than usual.”

“Soo…” You put your head in your hands and whine. “I need to tell you something but you can’t tell anyone and you need to be normal when Baek comes back.”

“No promises.”

“We… hooked up. Sort of.”

Instead of any sort of reaction of surprise, Kyungsoo just blinks at you. “Oh. You haven’t been hooking up this whole time?”

“What?!” You lower your voice when the neighboring tables whip their heads to look at you. “Is that what people think?”

“People think that you guys are full on together and have been for years,” he deadpans. 

“Well, you know that we’re not, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he shrugs. “But there’s always the possibility that things are happening beyond my knowledge.”

“What do I do?” 

Kyungsoo pauses. “Are things just awkward now? If it’s that, then I think it’ll fizzle out on its own.”

“No, it’s that… I think I kind of like him? Or at least want to hook up with him again. And I think that maybe he also wants to?”

“So hook up again.”

In the corner of your eye you see Baekhyun leave the restroom so you adjust your posture, stealthily raising your eyebrow towards him so that Kyungsoo knows he’s coming. “It’s not that easy, Soo.”

“I think it is,” he replies, then clears his throat before raising the volume of his voice. “Anyways, did you want to get dessert?”

“Ooh, you guys are talking about dessert?” Baekhyun slides into the booth next to you, stealing a fry off your plate easily. “Can we split a slice of cheesecake?”

“Get your own slice, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says. “Last time you hogged it all.”

Baekhyun splutters in protest, and you laugh, ignoring the way that your heart squeezes.

“You wanna come by my place for a bit? Watch a movie?” Baekhyun asks. 

When Kyungsoo left the car just moments ago, it’s as if he took all of the easygoing nature of the hangout with him. Now the atmosphere is heavy, wrought with tension so thick you can practically taste it. Baekhyun drums his fingers against the wheel anxiously. 

You could say no. You have to do your grocery shopping tomorrow, your place is a wreck and you need to do a deep clean, you don’t have any of the belongings you need to stay overnight (which is a complete non-issue. You’ve had extra clothes and a spare toothbrush at his for as long as you can remember). You’re not stupid: you know what will end up happening if you stay the night.

But a part of you that you aren’t quite ready to reckon with yet wants it.

“Sure,” you say. 

Neither of you are paying attention to the movie that he throws on when you get there. His arm around you is nothing new, his knee knocking against yours is familiar territory, but it all feels so different now. You’re hyperaware of everything: every shift he makes, every time he clears his throat. 

Your heart hammers in your chest, beating behind your ribcage with a ferocity you’ve never known before. Calm down, you think. This is Baekhyun. This is Baekhyun and this is normal and we’re just best friends–

He calls your name.

Softly. Pleading. 

When you turn towards him, his face is so close that you can count every individual eyelash, see every mole on his face in spectacular detail. The soft glow from the lamplight bathes him in gold. His gaze drifts down, down towards your mouth, his lips parting ever so slightly.

Fuck it.

Before you know it, you’re straddling him, thighs bracketing his hips. You throw your shirt over your head and unclip your bra, shuddering slightly when he splays his hand across your side. His lips dip toward yours and you pull away in a panic.

“No kissing,” you whisper.

He exhales harshly, almost like a laugh, before he diverts his pathway to your neck. “God, you drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters, pressing kisses down the column of your throat. His hands reach up to cup your tits, brushing your nipples under his thumb. 

You roll your hips down, pressing yourself against his hardening cock with increasing intensity. “Shit,” he hisses, pulling away. “Lay down for me.” He pushes you gently onto your back, discarding his clothing and the rest of yours in the process. His fingers enter you slowly, stretching you out as he covers your body with his. 

“You’re so obvious, y’know?” he chuckles against your skin when you whine. “Practically giving me fuck me eyes every damn day.”

“Fuck you.” Your voice holds no malice, not even a little bit of bite, going breathy around the edges when he thrusts his fingers in deep. “You’re not any better. I saw you looking at my ass the other day.”

“Can you blame me?” He pulls out and positions you so that your legs are wrapped around his waist, his cock positioned at your entrance. “You’re fucking perfect.”

He doesn’t waste any time, immediately thrusting into you at a brutal pace. It’s messy, frantic, your blood thrumming through your veins. You gasp, clutching onto his shoulders for dear life, each thrust pushing you deeper into the couch cushions.

“Holy fuck,” you moan, your head falling back. “Just like that.”

“Yeah?” he grunts, his fringe hanging low over his eyes, casting the top half of his face in shadow. “Tell me how good it is.”

You don’t even have it in you to make a smart comment back, too bowled over by the quick pace and the mounting pleasure. “S-So good, Baek. Don’t stop.”

He pulls out of you momentarily just to drape your legs over his shoulders, practically bending you in half when he re-enters your slick pussy, caging his arms around your head. The position makes you feel so vulnerable, so completely under his will that it sends a thrill up your spine. 

“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, voice strained with the effort of keeping up the pace, “just how much I’ve thought about you since that night? Can’t get the fuckin’ taste of you out of my head.”

You whimper at the heat of his confession. “Me too,” you say. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it. Never had anyone like that.”

He chuckles, slowing his hips until he’s just grinding into you. “And what about this? Any of those assholes fuck you this good?” 

You shake your head, subtly arching into him, trying to get him to resume his pace. “Never. Keep going, need more.”

“Gonna have to hear you say ‘please,’” he teases.

“God, please,” you gasp. “Please, I want it.”

He fucks into you like he has something to prove, moving his hips with devastating precision. His control is slipping, you see it in the way that his jaw tenses, feel it in the way his hips start to stutter. You’re no better— with every minute, you feel your orgasm threatening to overtake you, the overwhelming heat coiling low in your stomach. 

“I’m close,” you whisper. 

“Me too,” he says, voice breaking. He snakes his hand around as best as he can to reach your clit, the pad of his finger brushing the sensitive nub. “With me, please. Wanna feel it.”

You unravel together, bodies curled in on one another. It rolls through you in waves, white-hot pleasure that makes your vision turn to static around the edges. His fingers dig into your sides, breath hot as he pants against your collarbone, emptying himself inside of you.

You don’t even have a moment to catch your breath before he’s pulling out and kneeling on the floor, draping your legs over his shoulders once again. “What are you— fuck!” Your oversensitive body twitches when he puts his tongue against you, sealing his lips over your clit and inserting two fingers inside. 

“I need to taste you again,” he pants. Desperate, needy in a primal way that makes you dizzy. “Please.”

Your moans turn to full-on whimpers as he brings you back to the edge in record time, squeezing your eyes shut as you tremble through it. You cum with a shout of his name, gripping his hair between your fingers. 

Then, as your body comes down to Earth, the reality of what’s happened starts to dawn on you.

Uncertainty settles in before anything else. You shift so that you can meet Baekhyun’s gaze, but to your amazement, you don’t see your own hesitance reflected back at you. He smiles at you easily, charmingly, as if he hadn’t just fucked your brains out.

“You alright?” he asks. “Was it too rough?”

“No,” you say, voice hoarse. “Can you get my clothes?”

You get dressed in silence, watching the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his shirt over his head. What the fuck just happened? Last time was just a one-off, a favor. But this?

“Can we talk about this?”

Baekhyun’s easygoing facade slips for a second. “Yeah. Yeah, sit down.” 

You sit down next to him on the couch—the couch where you had just had sex, what the fuck?—and take a deep breath. “Where are we going with this? The sex and stuff?”

He shrugs. “Wherever you want it to go. Are you having fun?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page about, y’know, expectations and stuff.”

Baekhyun chooses his next words carefully before reaching over and putting his hand on top of yours. “We can always stop and I won’t be upset or disappointed. But if you’re open to it, I would really like to keep doing this.”

“I’m just scared it’s going to change things for us.”

“Nothing will change,” he whispers, smiling. “You’re still my best friend.”

And the way he looks at you… how can you be expected not to believe him?

It becomes a routine. 

Frantic quickies at 3am, lazy morning sex, even in the back of his car after a party. You can’t keep your hands off of him, and he can’t keep his hands off of you. Nearly every time you’re alone together, your clothes end up discarded, forgotten on the floor. He learns his way around your body quickly, until making you cum is second nature, as easily as making you laugh. You’re not a bad student either: you learn that he really likes it when you beg, loves it even more when you say his name right before you shatter on his fingers, on his lips, on his cock.

One more time turns into two more times turns into five. Full days pass where the two of you spend all day in bed, lazily dozing in between sessions until you remember that there actually is an outside world that you have to attend to. You’re running out of turtlenecks to wear to work, the only clothing sufficient enough to hide the constellations of love bites across your neck and chest.

Despite all this, he’s still your best friend. You still swap inside jokes, still annoy the hell out of each other. He’s still your comfort person, your safe space, even as you become more vulnerable with him than you ever thought possible. 

It’s another lazy night following a lazy day spent in bed. You trace abstract patterns on his back absentmindedly when he perks up suddenly. “I’m bored,” he says. “You wanna go for a walk?”

“Right now?” you ask. “It’s dark out.”

“We’ll just walk to the park and back. What, you don’t think I’ll protect you if any monsters come out of the shadows?”

To Baekhyun’s credit, the park is actually well-lit at night. You take the winding trail through the trees slowly, with all the time in the world. You still find things to talk about, even after years of friendship, after all the hours that you’ve been spending together recently. 

“Do you hear that?” Baekhyun asks. And you do, the sounds of live music drawing closer and closer. As you approach the gazebo, you see an older man sitting inside, playing his guitar. 

“Hey, isn’t this–?” you say.

Baekhyun’s eyes widen in recognition before a smile spreads across his face. “Oh yeah!” 

A high school dance, one of the few that you attended, you can’t remember which one. You had both been rejected by your crushes and ended up having to go with each other. During the slow dance to this very song, the two of you decided to dance together but could not for the life of you stop giggling. Dirty looks were cast your way by the other couples on the dance floor, but you kept snickering into his shoulder, and he kept muffling his laughter in your hair.

“Shall we dance?” he asks, holding his hand out in an exaggerated manner.

“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” you curtsy before taking his hand.

It starts out the same way, all giggly and joking, Baekhyun twirling and dipping you until your head spins. You see the old man cast a smile your way and you nod at him as he continues playing. “Beautiful!” he shouts.

“Isn’t she?” Baekhyun laughs.

And maybe it’s the way that you become aware of his steady hand on your waist, maybe it’s the way that his eyes crinkle up at the edges when he smiles. But all of a sudden, you become painfully, horribly, much too aware of the fact that you are definitely, without question, in love with him. 

When had it all changed? Somewhere among all the times that you were under him? In between the whispered praises, the affectionate touches? Or maybe, God forbid, were the feelings there all along?

It doesn’t really matter in the end. All that you know is that everything is different now. It’s as if the world ceases spinning, time slows to a crawl. You’re in love with your best friend. The realization is enough to knock the wind out of your chest.

Baekhyun tilts his head at you questioningly. “You okay?” he murmurs, eyebrows creasing with concern. 

You just nod. Your emotions are so stuck in your throat that you’re afraid to answer. The gentle strumming of the guitar stops, leaving the two of you in the silence of the night. 

“What’s up with you?” 

You blink and find Baekhyun staring at you, concerned. “Nothing,” you reply.

“You’ve been so quiet lately,” he says. “Distant.”

“Just have some things on my mind.” You can’t, won’t meet his gaze. It’s been a few weeks since that night in the park, and all of your energy has been focused on keeping everything normal. The way it always was, the way it always should be. But your mask has been slipping lately, wearing your irritation on your sleeve, spacing out more than usual. Baekhyun’s too perceptive to have gone this long without noticing. 

He turns back to the TV, worrying his bottom lip in between his teeth the way he does when he’s thinking. “You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?” And for a moment, you feel your heart rate start to pick up, fluttering with hope. You know that I have feelings for you, right? You imagine how those words would sound coming from him. Would he say it in a serious way? Or with that same, lighthearted confidence that’s permeated your entire friendship?

“That I’m seeing someone.”

You didn’t think it was possible for your entire world to shatter with just four words. He has the audacity to look surprised when you gasp, an ugly, strangled sound in the back of your throat.

“Is that… not what–”

“What?”

“I’m sorry!” he splutters. “I thought you figured it out and that’s why you were pulling away–”

You stand up and pace across the room, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Shielding yourself from him. “Since when?”

“For like a month,” he says quietly.

“Baek… we hooked up so much in the past–”

“I know.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down, frustrated. “I know. But we’ve really just been talking and only went on a couple dates and just decided that we should be exclusive. Like literally last night.”

You laugh bitterly. “So we have to stop, then. Thanks for the fucking heads up, I guess.”

“Stop what?” 

You look at him as if he’s grown two heads. “Are you joking?”

Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “If you’re asking me if we have to stop having sex, then yes, we have to stop having sex.”

“No shit, Byun.” You sigh, a clusterfuck of emotions rising like bile in your chest. “But where does it stop? We’re going to have to stop hanging out, she probably won’t like it if we hang out at all.”

“Okay, hold on.” Baekhyun stands and grabs you gently by both shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions. I love you, but please calm down.”

I love you. It hits you like a slap to the face. “Don’t say that.”

His face twists with pain. “I know you hate when I tell you to calm down but I need you to hear me right now. Nothing’s going to change. We just have to stop hooking up, okay?”

Of course he doesn’t even register that the calm down part of the sentence wasn’t the part that bothered you. “Right. Remember what happened the last time we said nothing was going to change between us?”

Baekhyun falls silent, grappling with the right words to say. Finally, he settles on, “Please. Please don’t hate me for this.”

You throw your hands up in frustration, twisting out of his grip to grab your bag and head towards the door. “I don’t know, it kinda feels like you’re breaking up with me right now.”

“Don’t say that.” His voice hardens instantly. “We’re friends. We’re just best friends.”

“Best friends don’t do this!” you yell. “They don’t have morning sex or dance with each other at the park or have sit down conversations saying that they have to stop hooking up because one of them started seeing someone. They just don’t.”

“So what are you saying then?” he says, tone sharp enough to cut with, dripping with malice. “That you’re in love with me or something?”

Your breath hitches. The way he says it as if it’s something so terrible.

“What if I am?” Your voice cracks, small and pathetic. 

He melts instantly, all the venom sucked out of him in one go, and you see your best friend again. “Oh.”

Humiliation spreads like a virus in your chest. So he didn’t know after all. 

“I’m so sorry–”

You throw your bag over your shoulder. The second your back turns to him, the hot tears fall down your face. “It’s fine. Just forget it.”

“Wait, please–”

“I said forget it.” You head towards the door without another look back at him, slamming it shut behind you. You almost want to wait to hear the hurried footsteps behind you, but you can’t stand the thought of waiting in that cold, empty hallway, waiting to be followed by someone who would never come.

The calls stop after the third day.

Before the silence, he calls every hour on the hour. You listen to a few of the voicemails from the first day. Hi, can we please talk about this? I don’t want to lose you. Please. After a while, it gets too painful to hear his voice, and the number of unopened voicemails ticks higher and higher until they don’t anymore. 

You hardly leave your apartment as weeks go by. It hadn’t occurred to you before now just how much time you had been spending with him. Your days feel emptier now, lacking a spark that he always brought. The silence of your empty place feels almost oppressive. 

The thought comes into your mind one night when you’re burying your feelings into a pint of ice cream that this must be what it feels like to be heartbroken. You laugh a bit at the irony– you always figured that the first time you would experience this, you’d at least have the solace of your best friend to crawl to.

A rapt knocking at your front door brings you out of your stupor and your heart leaps into your throat. You sit frozen for a few seconds before the knocking comes again. Before you can think about it too hard, you’re on your feet bounding towards the door.

“Baek, I–”

“Uh, hi?”

It’s not Baekhyun on the other end, but Kyungsoo, who looks a little startled at your appearance. “I was getting a little worried about you, you haven’t answered any of my texts.”

“Oh, um… you can come in. It’s a bit of a mess.”

Kyungsoo looks around your place as he steps inside, littered with trash and piles of laundry. You have half a mind to be embarrassed about it, but he just looks with concern, free of judgement. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

You tell him everything, trying your best not to trip over your words, determined to get through the story without crying. Kyungsoo listens silently, nodding when appropriate, but never makes a move to interject. Finally, when you’re done, and the lump in your throat feels almost too large to bear, he says, “So you haven’t contacted him since this happened?”

“No.”

“And he just sent a bunch of voicemails, didn’t text, didn’t show up here?”

“Yes.”

“And you… want him to?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Your head sinks into your hands, the heels of your palms digging into your closed eyelids. “I don’t know what I feel right now. I just wish that we never did anything to begin with so I never had to realize these feelings.”

“Well… we can’t take it back. And I think it’s obvious now that things have changed, so… now all that’s left to do is renegotiate the terms of the relationship.”

“But what if…” Your voice comes out small. “What if I don’t like his terms? What if he doesn’t like mine?”

You feel a gentle hand on your back. “You won’t know until you talk about it. That goes for him too. He needs to be a better communicator. Jesus.”

You laugh wetly. “It’s something we’ve always had in common.”

“Avoidance attachment?”

When you peek up through your fingers, Kyungsoo’s smiling good-naturedly. “C’mon, get up. Take a shower and I’ll clean up a little.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you groan.

“I know. I want to. You don’t have a choice.”

The next time you hear a knock on your door, you know that it’s not Kyungsoo. 

Baekhyun smiles at you sadly in the doorway, already looking like he’s bracing himself for your rejection. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say. Your tongue feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.

“I can leave if you want me to, and I won’t bother you again, I swear. I just thought I’d try to talk to you one last time?”

You swallow, then open the door wider. “Come in.”

He looks tired. He hovers around the corners of the room as if he doesn’t know this place better than his own. You get him a glass of water, and you sit awkwardly side by side on your couch. The silence is nearly unbearable, but thankfully, he doesn’t take very long to break it. 

“I broke up with her.”

You nod slowly. “When?”

“A day after everything,” Baekhyun says. “I told you in a voicemail, but uh, I assumed you were ignoring it or you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I didn’t hear it,” you admit. “But I never asked you to do that for me.”

“You didn’t have to.” Baekhyun takes a breath, fidgeting with the glass in his hands. “I was scared to admit that becoming physical with you had changed things between us. I thought that if I tried looking elsewhere that things between us could go back to the way they were.”

“You wanted things to go back?” you ask. 

“I thought that I would rather things go back to normal than to lose you entirely.”

“You kept insisting that things never changed,” you say. “You were the one that kept that boundary.”

“I know,” he sighs. He looks up at you, dark eyes broken. “I was a fucking idiot. I thought that if I kept saying it, I would believe it.”

“Couldn’t you feel it?” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, stinging the back of your throat. “Couldn’t you feel that I was falling for you?”

“I didn’t want to believe it. I thought it was my brain telling me what I wanted to hear.” Baekhyun laughs. “I’m such a mess. I ruined everything.”

“You didn’t.” You reach over and grab his hands. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, eyes glimmering with hope. “You didn’t ruin anything, Baek. I should have been more upfront with my feelings too. I shouldn’t have ignored your calls.”

Baekhyun worries his bottom lip between his teeth before speaking again. “So if you were to be more upfront about your feelings now, what would you say?”

“I would say…” You take a deep breath. “That I think I’m in love with you. And I want to try being something more than your best friend.”

His face breaks into a relieved grin. “I love you too. And I’m so, so sorry for everything.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I do,” he frowns. “I did a really douchey thing to you and I regret it—”

You cut him off by climbing into his lap, putting both of your hands on the sides of his face. His words die on his tongue, lips falling apart in awe, looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. 

“Please,” you whisper. “Just kiss me.”

Soft lips meet yours cautiously, hesitantly. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close, deepening the kiss at the same time. He kisses you with care, like you have all the time in the world, moving his lips against yours perfectly in sync. 

And it’s so amazing. It’s unfair just how amazing it feels, how long you’ve denied yourself from being like this, from being with him. You melt in his arms, losing yourself in the rhythm of his lips, the soft gasps of breath in between, the warmth of his body against yours. 

You slip your hands into his hair and he groans, breaking apart from you for a second. “Don’t do that,” he murmurs. 

“You don’t like it?”

“No, I… I like it a lot.” He looks up at you through his lashes, exhaling shakily. “I just want to do this for a while and that makes it really hard for me to not carry you into your bedroom right now.”

You smile, rolling your hips down once, decisively, onto his lap before dipping down for another kiss. “No reason why we can’t do both,” you whisper.

Baekhyun’s eyes widen before he brings you in even closer, pressing his face into your shoulder. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“Just making up for lost ti—ah!” Your hands scramble to grab onto his shoulders as he stands, carrying you to the bedroom. Your laughter echoes off the walls of your apartment as he walks, filling the place with the light that it sorely missed, that it won’t ever be without from this moment on. 

The place wasn't bad. In fact, it was even pleasant… dimmed lights, music at a comfortable volume.

You were with your friends, laughing at something that didn't even seem that funny anymore, because you're the only sober one in the group… the glass resting between your fingers more out of habit than desire.

Still, little by little, your attention began to wander, not because of them, but because of that uncomfortable feeling of being watched.

You noticed it even before looking. A random, slightly tipsy guy approached.

"Do you come here often?" he asked, with an easy, overly confident smile.

You let out a short, polite laugh, the kind that's automatic: "Once in a while."

It was a neutral, simple answer, enough to end it there, or at least it should have been. But he didn't seem to get the message.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"I don't drink." You shook your head slightly.

Even so, he continued. His gaze drifted down without any disguise, lingering longer than it should have, and that was enough to truly bother you.

"What's your name?"

You were already about to answer anything just to end it once and for all or simply get out of there.

A firm presence settled into the space between the two of you. The hand that landed on your waist was firm, without hesitation, while the other subtly pushed the guy away, without brute force, but making the limit clear.

The voice came calmly, low, but firm enough not to leave room for discussion: "She's not interested."

You didn't need to look to know who it was. But you looked anyway.

Baekhyun.

The guy let out an awkward laugh, raising his hands as if it were an exaggeration.

“Relax, I was just talking—” 

“Yeah, but I saw it’s over.” Simple and direct.

There was no room for insistence. The other hesitated for a moment, assessing, and then shrugged, backing away.

When he finally moved away, the atmosphere didn’t return to normal. Not completely…

You could still feel Baekhyun’s hand on your waist, firm, as if he wasn’t in any hurry to let go.

“You took a while…” The phrase escaped before you could even filter it.

Baekhyun slowly turned his face towards you, an eyebrow rising with slight curiosity.

“Did I take a while?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, taking a sip of your drink, trying to seem more indifferent than you really were.

“Funny,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “I didn’t even know I’d been called.”

You held his gaze for a second longer than you should have, and that's when you realized your mistake before you could even speak.

"You kind of always show up even without calling."

The silence that followed was short, but heavy enough to say a lot.

Something changed in his gaze—subtle, but noticeable.

"Not always," he replied, more quietly.

Your friends were already quiet, clearly feeling the tension building there, but you didn't look away. Because, deep down, this (you two) wasn't new. It never had been.

Baekhyun let out a light sigh and only then removed his hand from your waist, although he didn't really move away. "Want to get out of here?"

You tilted your head, pretending to think for a second, but the answer was already there even before the question.

"I want to."

He nodded, as if he already expected it, and turned his body towards the exit without looking back. Even so, you followed him without hesitation.

Of course you followed.

(...)

The night air hit your face as soon as you stepped outside, cooler and quieter than the atmosphere inside. 

For a few seconds, neither of you said anything. Only the distant sound of the music grew fainter as you walked away.

His car was parked a little further ahead.

Always the same. Baekhyun opened the door for you without saying anything, waiting for you to get in first. He didn't start the car. He just stood there, hands on the steering wheel.

"Why didn't you say you're dating someone?"

You turned around immediately. "I'm not dating anyone."

He let out a low laugh.

"Then say you're seeing someone. It's the same thing."

You crossed your arms: "And what do I say? That there's a guy who shows up whenever he wants?"

"And even so..." He moved closer. Closer than necessary. "You still call me."

Your heart raced, but you didn't back away.

"Because you're the only one I want around." He leaned slowly toward you, closing the space between you until it was almost nonexistent.

“How close?” His voice was low, almost a challenge.

You caught your breath for a second, but you didn't back away. On the contrary.

You tilted your face slightly, getting even closer, feeling his breath on your skin.

“Isn't this enough already?”

He let out a low, short, but humorless laugh: “No.”

Before you knew it, he slipped his hand under your skirt and squeezed your thigh like a pillow. Heat was already rising throughout your body, leaving you breathless and speechless. 

Foreplay always drove you crazy inside, and Baekhyun had a control over you that only he knew.

Suddenly, you found yourself in the back seat, your nails digging into Baekhyun's broad shoulders and bare back as he bounced you up and down on his thick cock.

 He buried his face in her neck, his heavy breath brushing against her sensitive skin, sending a shiver down her spine. A moan escaped her as he reached her G-spot.

The windows were fogged up and the glass was muffled, but that wasn't a problem for you, given all the lust you felt there, which was reflected in Baekhyun's strong thrusts.

"You're so hot..." he groaned.

There was no gentleness in the way he fucked you; you took advantage of the position to caress and stroke him at will.

"I can't believe I'm finally going to fuck you," he groaned, lifting you and throwing you forcefully onto his cock. If the car wasn't shaking before, it certainly was now.

"Baek-ahh...!", you screamed, throwing your head back.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to feel this delicious pussy? My God," he cursed when you squeezed him. "It's been weeks, damn it." He finished with a slap on your ass, making you shudder in his lap.

'Weeks?', you would have asked, but all your words died in your throat when you felt his penis poking your G-spot once more.

Soon after, Baekhyun felt the strands of semen on your shirt. You couldn't control the orgasm, even if you wanted to, and the car's interior reverberated with both of your loud cries.

It's hot.

So hot and full-bodied.

Both are completely lost in pleasure, and waves of pleasure consume them like fire. It seems endless. All they can do is writhe in it, and you let yourself fall onto Baekhyun. You blindly search for each other and kiss, still rubbing against one another.

It seems like it will never end. You continue kissing and shaking for hours. The subsequent spasms make you moan against each other's lips. Every place you touch is extremely sensitive and prolongs the spasms.

Finally, you have the strength to open your eyes and stare at each other, breathless, with your lips pressed together.

Baekhyun recovers first, displaying that wild smile.

"Holy shit… just be mine. Please—"

You return the smile.

"Mmm-hmm."

You stare at each other for a moment and then burst into laughter.

"Screw it. I love you."

“Oh, this is pretty, right?” Baekhyun points at the necklace behind the glass counter, looking back at you with eyes that sparkle almost as much as the gems in the piece of jewelry. 

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, sidling up next to him.

“I think it goes well with the other pieces in your collection too,” Baekhyun smiles. “What do you think?”

You hesitate, thinking back to the events of the last couple of hours. You had been, to put it lightly, completely and utterly spoiled. After a slow morning eating a light brunch at one of the restaurants in the hotel, you wandered around the row of shops, ducking into nearly every store that had caught your attention even for a second. Baekhyun had encouraged you to get every item that you looked at, from dresses to silk scarves to luxury purses. Each package he had sent up to the room, so you currently had no evidence in your line of sight of just how much of Baekhyun’s money you had spent, but you knew the answer had to be a whole fucking lot.

“I don’t know,” you hum. “Don’t you think it’s a little much?”

“Oh no miss, not at all,” the person working behind the counter interrupts. “I think it’s very understated compared to the rest of the line.”

Your cheeks flush red and you shake your head. “Oh, sorry, that’s not what I meant. He’s been buying things for me all day,” you laugh.

“Ah, but there’s nothing wrong with that!” he laughs.

“See?” Baekhyun adds, amused. “We both think it’s perfect for you.”

“Baek,” you whisper. “This is really too much, I don’t think all the stuff you’ve bought is going to fit into my bag as it is.”

“We’ll buy another one and just check it,” he shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.” He pouts when you don’t budge, his expression childlike. “Come on, it’s our last day here! Let me get this for you.”

“I think I’m okay,” you say, smiling apologetically at the cashier. “Sorry, thank you for helping us.”

“No problem, miss,” he replies. “Have a good day.”

You walk back out into the bustling corridor, nearly colliding with a couple of drunk tourists who swerve out of your way. Your hand interlaces with Baekhyun’s easily, second nature now. “I think I’m ready to call it for now.”

“Okay, no worries. Have you thought about what you want to do tonight? It’s our last night in Las Vegas,” he says, raising his eyebrows playfully.

“What do you want to do?” you ask. 

“Anything,” he shrugs. “I’m happy as long as it’s with you.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest, and you have to look away for a minute to compose yourself. “Ah, do you mind waiting here for me?” Baekhyun asks. “I’m gonna go to the restroom real quick.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be here.” You watch as he makes his way towards the restrooms, pulling out your phone to scroll absentmindedly while you wait.

It’s hard to really comprehend that it’s already your last real day of this trip. Really, it feels like a lifetime since the plane first touched down in the city, but in reality it hasn’t been that long at all. You wish so badly that this could last forever, that neither of you would have responsibilities to attend to, that he wouldn’t have a job that commanded the majority of his attention. This vacation fantasy has been too good to be true, and you’re mere hours away from it all being over.

You look up from your phone and crane your neck in the direction that Baekhyun’s headed off to, but he’s nowhere to be seen. You take a step forward to get a better look and accidentally bump into someone’s shoulder.

“Oh sorry!” You turn to give a polite nod to the person you’ve bumped into but your apology dies in your throat. Your eyes widen and you freeze, your insides turning to ice.

“Watch where you’re— what the fuck?”

It’s your fucking ex. Of course, in a city of strangers, where you expected to just be another face in the crowd, you would run into the one person that you would rather die than see here. Drink in hand, gaze slightly unfocused, he blinks at you.

Then, in a gesture that makes your skin crawl, he fucking smiles.

“Hey!” He grins at you as if you’re a long lost buddy, not his ex-girlfriend of two years that he cheated on without remorse. “Long time no see!” 

“Wish it was longer,” you mutter, crossing your arms in front of you. You look over his shoulder in the direction of the restrooms but don’t see Baekhyun at all.

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” He pouts. “I tried to contact you after everything because I dumped her right away, but you never saw any of those messages.”

“Oh good, that means the blocking worked.”

“So how you been? Been good?” he asks, completely ignoring your previous statement. 

You scoff at him. “Seriously?”

He puts up his hands in surrender. “Just trying to start a conversation. You look good, by the way.”

“I’m here with someone,” you blurt out. “And he’s gonna be here any second now so I’d really appreciate it if you left me alone.”

He rolls his eyes. “Well, I’ll be on my way when he gets here, I don’t want to leave you here waiting by yourself.”

“I am perfectly capable of being by myself,” you snap. “And I’d prefer it, thanks.” You crane your head around your ex, searching for Baekhyun’s familiar face. Where the fuck is he?

“Y’know, I’m starting to think there isn’t anyone and you’re just trying to make me leave,” he smirks. “Which, I don’t blame you for doing. I fucked up, I can admit that. But you don’t have to lie about a fake boyfriend just to scare me off.”

“Hey.” Baekhyun comes up from behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist. He kisses your temple, an easy, familiar gesture that now has an underlying sense of possessiveness. “Is this guy bothering you?”

“Yes,” you say immediately. You look at him with relief. “Where did you go? I thought you went to the—” Your gaze drifts down to the bag in his hand, the gasp falling from your mouth involuntarily. “Baek, you didn’t!”

“You know I had to,” he smiles, holding it up for you to see. “I saw the way you were looking at it.”

Your ex clears his throat. “My bad, dude. I’ll be going now.” He turns to leave, but then something in his expression clicks. “Hold on. You’re the guy from that night.”

Baekhyun stares at him for a second, then his eyes widen a fraction. “Ah. You’re her ex,” he says coldly. “The cheater.”

Your ex eyes the shopping bag in Baekhyun’s hands. “So do you buy diamonds for all the girls you sleep with or just the ones that are younger than you?” 

Rage boils up inside of you and you start towards him, held back only by a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder. He shakes his head at you. 

“We’re leaving now,” Baekhyun says, voice level but with a hardness that could kill. “Have a good rest of your trip.” The two of you turn and walk away, his free hand slipping into yours.

“Fuckin’ gold digger.”

Baekhyun tenses up beside you, his hand going rock solid in your grasp. Still, he maintains his composure waiting all the way until you turn the corner and you’re out of your ex’s line of sight. “Can you hold this, please?” he asks softly, handing you the shopping bag. With his now free hand, he digs into his pocket for his phone and dials a number.

“Byun Baekhyun, INB100,” he says sharply. His frustration is clear on his face. “Hi, I just wanted to make a formal complaint about a guest. Oh, name?” He looks at you expectantly, then repeats it into the phone after you give it to him. “Inappropriate behavior, belligerent drunkenness. Yes. Okay. That would be great. Thank you so much. Have a great day.”

“What did you just do?” you ask timidly.

“Got him banned from the casino floors in every major hotel on the Strip,” he says coolly. “If he’s lucky it’ll only last for the rest of his trip.”

You stare at him, mouth agape. “How did you—?”

He sighs, the tension in his shoulders bleeding away. “I don’t like to take advantage of my connections like that but… he can’t just say that shit about you and get away with it.”

“Baekhyun, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not,” he snaps, eyes flaring with anger for a brief second. “I’m not fine with it. I can’t just sit idly by while my girlfr—”

You gasp softly. He catches himself, but recovers quickly. “While you get mistreated like that. It’s not right.”

You swallow, trying to find the words but coming up with nothing. You’re still stunned by his slip up. Girlfriend? 

Baekhyun’s eyes soften. “Let’s just go back up to the room to drop the bag off and then we’ll figure out what we can do to get our minds off of it, yeah?”

You nod, hoping that the smile you give him is reassuring.

The second you step back into the room, Baekhyun’s work phone rings. “Shit,” he hisses. “It’s the hotel. It’s probably about earlier.” He shoots you an apologetic look. “Is it okay if I take this outside? I can handle it.”

“Sure.” You sit down at the edge of the bed. “I’ll be here.”

Baekhyun smiles before exiting the room, giving you a moment to breathe by yourself. It’s been over 24 hours since you’ve been alone, really alone. You take a moment to exist in the silence, away from Baekhyun’s voice, his laugh, the gentle rise and fall of his chest while he sleeps. 

You look around at the beautiful room, the view of the city just beyond your window, the bags that have already been brought up from earlier in the morning. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror across from the bed and take in your own outfit: your top that flatters your body more than any item you had before you met him, your new favorite pair of jeans. And of course, the shopping bag at your feet.

The evidence of Baekhyun’s generosity is not only plain to see, it’s impossible to ignore. But it’s more than that too. It’s the way he’s welcomed you into his world so wholeheartedly, never allowing you to feel like a fish out of water. How he never makes you feel dumb, only allowing that overprotective part of him to show when he genuinely believes that you’re in danger or being slighted in some way. How he guides you through crowds, and knows what you like but still always asks for your opinion. 

You’ve never known care like this before him. You’ve never known—

A buzzing from the nightstand catches your attention. Baekhyun had just a moment before he was called to put his own personal phone away, and with it laying face up, you see that he’s changed his lockscreen to the photo of the two of you in front of the Eiffel Tower. It’s the one where he’s just kissed your head, but you haven’t had time to react yet, still smiling at the camera. 

Your heart squeezes in your chest. When did he do that? It must have been when he went to get the necklace, you’ve been practically attached at the hip this entire time. 

Baekhyun’s done so much for you, not only on this trip but over the course of the last year. It’s only right that you try to do something for him too. You don’t have much to offer, but it’s the thought that counts. 

You scroll through the contacts of your own phone and find what you’re looking for. You dial, and the phone rings for only a brief second. “You’ve reached the office of Byun Baekhyun, he’s away at the moment. Can I take a message?”

“Hi Kyunghee, it’s me.”

There’s silence on the other end for a beat. “Hey,” she says finally. The professionalism in her voice has dropped away, leaving behind the voice of someone you might have called for a casual chat. A friend, even. “Is everything okay? Is Baekhyun there?”

“He stepped out for a minute, he doesn’t know I’m calling,” you say. “I want to surprise him, but I don’t know how to arrange any of this stuff.”

“You want me to make a reservation for you?”

“A dinner reservation, yeah. I’m texting you the name of the place. But also could you get a car too so we can get off the Strip? No driver though, I’ll drive.”

The clacking of a keyboard sounds on her side. “Okay, done. I can have someone drop off a car for you at the hotel at 6:30 tonight, and I can make a dinner reservation at 7. I’ll text you a number that you can call when you’re done so that he can pick the car back up from you at the hotel.”

“Thank you so much, Kyunghee. I really can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. He really—” You pause, searching for the right words. “He really deserves it.”

“He does,” she agrees firmly. “I’m really glad that he’s found you. You’re good for each other.”

Your cheeks bloom with heat, and you’re just about to say your goodbyes when she adds, “By the way… Did the two of you find the room to your liking?”

“Oh, it’s great. There was the little mixup with the beds, but we found a way around it.”

Kyunghee doesn’t say anything. Not Mixup? What mixup? or Oh yes, the mixup. She just hums noncommittally, a slight smile in her voice.

“Kyunghee, did you…” You grin, laughing in disbelief. “You booked a room with only one bed on purpose?”

“I have so much respect for Baekhyun as a boss and as a human being, but my God is he dense sometimes.”

You giggle in spite of yourself. “Well. Thank you. Really. I can’t—”

“Okay, I’m quite fond of you as well, but he’s still my boss. I don’t need to hear all of the details.” She lets a laugh of her own slip out. “But I’m glad to hear that I helped in some way.”

Baekhyun returns to the room some minutes later, looking mildly frustrated. He lets out a soft sigh and sits next to you on the bed, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. “It should be settled now,” he says. “But he’s a bit of a headache, no?”

You laugh. “I tried telling you. He didn’t always used to be like this, though.”

“Oh yeah?” he snorts. “It’s kind of hard to imagine him as some kind of romantic.”

“I wouldn’t say he was romantic. Just… nice.”

Baekhyun looks at you with an indecipherable look. “You deserve so much more than just nice,” he says flatly. Directly. As if it’s the clearest thing in the world that any idiot would have been able to see.

Instead of cowering away from the praise like you have a tendency to do, you just smile. Because God knows Baekhyun’s shown you so much more than nice. “Thank you. I know that now.”

You pass the afternoon by people watching, setting up a station in one of the cafes that overlooks a busy area of the casino floor. With coffees and pastries in hand, the two of you sit together and watch the people passing by. 

With anyone else, you think that maybe this trip would have been a bit… underwhelming. Vegas isn’t as glitzy as you had initially thought. It’s buzzing with this chaotic, borderline debaucherous energy, sure. But it’s also just a place.

But looking back on your short weekend, it’s impossible to think about anything but positives with the man sitting beside you now. Getting to know him on a deeper level, both physically and emotionally. Being vulnerable with him. Spending every waking second together. It makes something tug on your insides, a little nudge that grows more and more impossible to ignore with each passing minute. 

“What are you thinking about?” Baekhyun asks. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts. “Nothing,” you say. “Well, actually…” You melt internally at the way he perks up, leaning in closer to hear you better. “I was just thinking about dinner plans.”

“Oh, are you hungry? Where do you want to go?”

“I already picked.”

Baekhyun blinks. “You did? Let me know so I can make the reservation.”

You grin slyly. “I already did.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, his mouth forming a little ‘o’. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing serious,” you say. “But you’ve been surprising me so much with this trip, I wanted to do something for you.”

It’s almost like he doesn’t know how to react at first, just staring at you like you’ve grown two heads. Then, he smiles, a grateful, almost tired smile.

“Thank you. I really do like planning things for you, but it’s nice to not have to think about it every once in a while.”

“I know,” you reply, bumping against his shoulder lightly. “Let me do this for you. I took care of everything.”

Baekhyun settles into his thoughts for a few moments before perking back up. “Should I be prepared for something fancy? What should I wear? Is it going to be a lot of food?”

You laugh in spite of his comically frantic expression. “Now you know how it feels to be me.”

At 6:30 sharp, you receive a text from an unknown number that the car is ready downstairs. You herd Baekhyun downstairs, who was able to at least get out of you that the restaurant is off the Strip and he should dress casually. When you step out into the driveway of the hotel, you realize with a start that you don’t know who you’re looking for. You don’t really have to worry about it long, though, because a man next to a sleek, black car waves you over. He hands the keys to you and then walks away back into the hotel.

So this is what it’s like to live in Baekhyun’s world, you think. Anything you could ever need or want for just a phone call away, with little inconvenience on your end, down to the fact that you don’t even have to know who you’re looking for.

“You’re driving?” Baekhyun asks. 

“Yep,” you say, opening the driver’s side. “How are you gonna drive if you don’t know where we’re going?”

“Fair enough.” He slides into the passenger’s seat and buckles in, watching you intensely as you adjust the seat and mirrors. “Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drive.”

“I haven’t had to since we’ve met,” you joke. “Mr. ‘I’ll send a car for you.’”

Traffic is a bitch but you manage to make it off the Strip with no mishaps. The restaurant isn’t far at all, just a short ten minute drive away. When you pull into the parking lot, Baekhyun’s eyes light up.

“Karaoke?” he asks, smiling.

“Mhm. We got a room and everything. I thought it would be fun to do something a little different.”

“You thought right. Come on, let’s go in.”

Baekhyun’s excitement is nearly palpable as you step into the restaurant, grinning and beaming beside you as you check in at the host stand. You had heard little snippets of Baekhyun’s vocal ability here and there over the past year, but you’ve never been in a situation to truly hear him. The one time you had come close was when he took you to a karaoke bar and you drunkenly pestered him the whole time to go up and sing. His eyes were alight with interest but he still turned you down, which only meant one thing. He was obscenely good and he knew it. 

The host leads you to the small karaoke room and explains how everything works, even pointing out the tambourines and maracas in the corner, to Baekhyun’s amusement. He flips through the song selection while you run through the menu, placing an order for a few dishes for the two of you to eat throughout the next few hours. 

“I’m so excited,” you say, sitting back on the couch as Baekyun queues up the first song. “I’ve never heard you sing before.”

Even under the neon lights, you can see the way that Baekhyun’s face turns pink. “I hope it lives up to your expectations.”

He doesn’t live up to your expectations.

He absolutely blows them out of the water.

Baekhyun sings like he’s absolutely born to do it, hitting every high note flawlessly and without breaking a sweat. He catches you staring a couple of times and looks away, uncharacteristically bashful. By the time the song ends, you don’t know how to pick your jaw up off the floor. 

“Okay, your turn,” he says.

“How the fuck am I supposed to follow that up?” you ask.

“Baby.” He pouts at you, settling next to you on the couch. “I want to hear you. Plus, I’m starving and I want to eat a little bit.” He gestures at the food that’s been sitting on the table since a server brought it in halfway through the song. 

“Okay, fine,” you sigh. “But you can’t laugh and you have to feed me during the break.”

Your face is burning while he watches you sing, unable to fully make eye contact. You’d be the first to admit that you pick a song that’s more vocally involved than you normally would pick at karaoke: part of you wants to impress him even though you know that your voice doesn’t even hold a candle to his. Plus, it’s a love song, and the more you focus on the words the more you feel that you mean them, unable to face the scrutiny of the subject of your feelings. 

But as promised, when there’s an instrumental break you turn towards him expectantly. Baekhyun gazes at you with something that can only be described as pure adoration, his eyes all soft in the corners and his smile wavering. His chin sits in his hands and he stares.

“Ahem.” You open your mouth expectantly and Baekhyun yelps as he snaps out of it, quickly feeding you a spoonful of fried rice before you have to sing again. 

“That was incredible!” Baekhyun says as soon as it’s over. “You were selling yourself short.”

“Shut up,” you mumble. “Sing for me again.”

The two of you take turns, even singing a couple of duets. The minutes fly by into hours, until the two of you are leaning into each other on the couch, voices hoarse and stomachs full, too spent to sing anymore. Your cheeks hurt from all the smiling and laughing, but there’s something else tugging at your attention. You feel that you’ve seen almost every side of him now: the serious and firm businessman that knows how to run a company, the kind and sociable stranger, the attentive and generous lover. But there’s something else that you have to know about, one last piece before you feel that you can genuinely understand him, all of him. 

“Tell me about your first love,” you say.

Baekhyun blinks, stunned. “Where’s this coming from?” He doesn’t ask angrily. He just sounds kind of… sad.

“You know about my past dating life, and I want to know about yours. You said you were in love once, before you had the company.”  

Baekhyun swallows and nods, playing with your knuckles in his lap.“We were high school sweethearts. We both had similar backgrounds, so that’s to say we didn’t grow up with much. She was ambitious, the smartest person in school. That’s what we liked about each other, how much drive we had. We pushed each other to do better.

“But then,” he continues, “It was starting to look like INB could become something massive. Something that could have set us up for generations. It was like overnight she completely changed. All of a sudden she was making jokes about becoming a trophy wife. She stopped studying for her MCAT. I think there were things about me that she was starting to dislike as well. In the beginning, I put myself too into it. I was never there for her. So we both decided to call it quits and that was that.”

You were quiet for a second, before you asked, “Is any part of you afraid that I’ll become like that too?”

Baekhyun’s eyes went wide and he squeezed your hand. “Not at all. I could tell from the moment I met you and your stubborn self refused to let me pay for your Uber home, and when you called my office just to return your jacket back.”

You laugh. “But I— I’m not particularly ambitious, Baekhyun. I wasn’t the smartest person in school, and sometimes I just wonder why you even like me.”

Baekhyun considers your words thoughtfully, treating them with as much weight as it took for you to say them. “I like you because every day you remind me that there are good, extraordinary people out there.”

You snort, but he holds onto you fast, searching your eyes openly. No, not searching. He’s inviting you in, letting you see that he’s baring his soul for you. “I’m serious. You don’t realize how many people I meet on a daily basis that are just… morally bankrupt. So fueled by greed and profit. No humanity whatsoever. When you get to where I am, you start to realize that the way that most people got there was not by playing fair.

“I admit for a long time I was jaded. I saw the world as an unjust place where people will do whatever it takes to climb to the top. But you…” He smiles, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live free of those thoughts. You give out kindness as if it’s nothing, and you never want to take advantage of everyone. Even me, someone who’s been whipped for you since day one. You could have asked me for anything and I would have given it to you instantly.”

It’s said as a joke, but you hardly laugh, too preoccupied with the sweetness of his words. “It may not seem like a lot to you,” he continues, “but it means everything to me.” He lightly cups both sides of your face, gazing into your eyes. “I mean it, okay? Everything.”

You nod, leaning into his hands, feeling now that everything has finally, blessedly, fallen into place.

You walk outside and into the night, the cold air already chilling you despite the warmth from the meal. “I cannot believe you paid,” you scoff. “The whole point of this was that I could do something for you.”

“You’ve done enough just by planning it,” he says. “Now, let me drive back.”

You stop in your tracks. “You don’t like my driving?” you pout.

“Now you know I didn’t say that.” He laughs, trying to grab the keys out of your hand. “If you can look me honestly in the face and tell me that you prefer to drive, then I’ll drop it.”

You sigh, handing the keys over immediately. “That’s no fair. You already knew that I like it when you drive.”

“Guilty,” he singsongs. He unlocks the car and climbs into the driver’s seat. As he backs out of the parking space, he puts his hand on the back of your headrest, leaning back to see out of the rear passenger window.

You’re definitely the first to admit that you are nowhere near immune to Baekhyun’s good looks, but this is especially true when he drives. You swallow, watching the way his long, slim fingers grip the steering wheel, the easy confidence on his face as he maneuvers the vehicle.

“Everything okay?” he asks, noticing how you’ve gone silent.

“Mhm,” you hum meekly.

He sneaks a sideways glance at you and immediately notices the way that you're subtly clenching your thighs together, the ghost of a smirk on his face. Casually, he reaches over and puts a hand on your thigh, his hand cold against your bare skin. 

“What are you doing?” your voice squeaks.

“You know what I’m doing,” he replies with that same easy confidence. His touch drifts higher and higher, sneaking underneath the fabric of your skirt and brushing lightly over your panties.

You shiver, turning your head to look at him. His expression is still locked straight ahead, focusing on navigating the unfamiliar roads. The car slowly crawls to a stop as you approach a red light, and as soon as you’re fully stopped, Baekhyun slips his hand underneath your panties and runs a hand through your wet slit.

“Baekhyun…”

“What, baby?” He finally turns to look at you, maintaining eye contact as he slips the fingers that were inside of you past his lips, sucking on the digits.

Need pools through you, fervent and immediate. “Pull over.”

He smirks, eyes glinting with mischief. “What, can’t wait for the hotel?”

“No. Need you now.”

“I don’t know…” he hums. “We aren’t that far.”

You reach out and grab his wrist, yanking it towards you. In one fluid motion, you stick his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue over them as if they were his cock.

Baekhyun’s jaw tightens as he exhales, eyes flashing dangerously. “Fuck. Okay, yeah.”

He pulls off the road and quickly finds an abandoned parking lot, parking towards the back away from the prying eyes of any of the drivers on the road. He stops the car, the noise from the radio and the hum of the engine cutting out, plunging the night into silence.

Immediately, you undo your seatbelt and climb over the center console into the backseat, waiting against the corner while he follows suit. “Eager, are we?” he asks, perching you in his lap. His lips latch on to the skin just underneath your ear lobe, sucking lightly on the sensitive spot.

“What can I say?” You tilt your head back to give him better access as you start to undo the top buttons of his shirt. “Emotional vulnerability turns me on.”

He chuckles against your skin, sliding his hands down the curve of your waist and over your ass. “Should I talk about the time I was left out of a game of tag as a child then?”

“No, you should just fuck me.” A sharp gasp tears from your throat when he spanks you, your ass still sore from everything he put you through last night. 

He slips his hand under your skirt and rubs the skin soothingly. “Ask if you want it,” he murmurs. 

While part of you wants a repeat of last night, a stronger voice inside of you just wants him and wants him now. “Please fuck me?” you ask softly, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“Soon.” He leans back and tucks his fingers behind his back, smirking crookedly at you. “Grind on my leg first.”

Your breath stutters. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says. “If you want me to fuck you here in the backseat of a rental car like a good little slut then you have to earn it.”

It’s instant, the way that you shudder in his lap at the degradation, adjusting yourself so that you’re now straddling his thigh. You place your hands on his shoulders and slowly start to rock yourself back and forth on top of him, the friction from his slacks providing a bit of relief to your aching core but not enough. 

You whimper in frustration, adjusting your angle to maximize the sensations. Baekhyun just stares at you shamelessly, taking in your form with ravenous eyes as you writhe on top of him. 

“It’s not enough,” you whine petulantly. “Please.”

“Here, let me help you,” he murmurs. He places his hands on your hips and guides your motions, quickening your pace. 

You let out a moan, tilting your head back as you get lost in the building pressure, slowly but surely getting you there now that Baekhyun’s hands are on you. “What if I were to open the window, hm?” he asks, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hip, subtly pulling you down onto him faster and faster. “Let everyone hear just how slutty you are, getting yourself off on my leg?”

“Baek…” You whine, shutting your eyes. “You’re teasing…”

“Only because it’s so fun,” he replies easily. He leans forward and kisses your neck, feather-light presses of his lips intermingled with the occasional bite. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”

You don’t even have time to come up with a comeback before he smacks your ass again, suddenly triggering your orgasm. You bite your lip, hard, to keep from being too loud, a strangled whimper sounding instead. 

Baekhyun grins smugly, ducking his hand underneath your skirt to run his fingers along your clothed core, feeling the evidence of your release. “That feel good, baby?”

“Yeah…” you say, dazed in the aftermath of your orgasm. You continue to rock against him absentmindedly, thighs twitching with the overstimulation. “I want more…”

“Ask me properly.”

Your hands slip underneath the hem of his shirt, sliding your hands up his front. You grind down once, purposely pressing down against his aching member. “Please, Baekhyun,” you say softly, leaning forward to catch his bottom lip in between yours, grazing your teeth against it lightly. “Fuck me. Please. I can’t wait anymore.”

He exhales, urging you to lift yourself up for a second while he shucks off his pants and underwear in one smooth go, discarding the fabric onto the car floor. You follow his example and strip yourself down completely, settling once more in his lap. Baekhyun’s eyes roam your body shamelessly, looking at you in complete awe and admiration.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he breathes, running his hands up the sides of your waist, over the swell of your breasts. His thumb brushes over the bruises and marks that he’s left over the course of the weekend, pressing lightly into them just enough to make you squirm. “You’re an actual angel.”  

There’s something more intimate about this position, completely pressed against him while you sink down on top of him. His face is mere inches from yours, and you can hear every hitch in his breath, feel his heart pounding against your chest. His hands are settled firmly on your waist, grip tightening when you sink all the way down. Your moans intermingle when you seat yourself fully onto him, feeling the fullness of his aching cock inside of you.

“So deep,” you whimper, your hands interlocked behind his neck. You press your forehead against his as you raise your hips, nearly pulling all the way out before sinking back down again. 

You settle into a slow and steady rhythm, savoring the feeling of being so full in his lap. He showers you with attention as he always does: rubbing circles into your hip, squeezing your ass, leaving kisses along the length of your neck. But soon enough, you start to feel his patience waver, can feel it in the way he starts to rock his hips up into you. 

“Please, baby, faster.” His voice is raspy, strained with just how badly he needs it, needs you. You can see that his pupils are blown with desire, even in the dark. “Don’t tease.”

And you’re not sure if it’s the way that he looks so pretty when he’s desperate, or just some sort of sick satisfaction you get from hearing just how wrecked he sounds, but something in you wants to push him once again. You rise up halfway, letting him feel every slow, agonizing inch. “But it’s so fun,” you pout, throwing his previous words back at him. 

A low groan rumbles from deep in his chest. “You really want to do this? Here? Where anyone could hear you fall apart for me?”

“Do what?” you say, voice dripping with faux sweetness. You shift your angle slightly, drawing him even deeper, grinding down into his lap.

And that’s all that it takes. His strong arms wrap fully around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer against him, trapping you. He plants both feet on the floor and thrusts up into you. Hard. You cry out, unable to find something to hold on to due to your arms being pinned against your sides. 

“Is it fun now?” he grunts, gritting his teeth, slamming inside of you. His breath is hot against your ear. “Huh?”

“Fuck!” you cry, screwing your eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of pleasure. You need something to ground yourself, something to stop you from slipping away in it entirely. So you do the only thing that you can do with your limited mobility.

You sink your teeth into his shoulder.

Baekhyun jolts, his rhythm slightly stuttering before returning full force. “Fuck, baby,” he groans into your ear. You soothe the mark with your tongue before ducking your head down and sucking at his collarbone. His pale skin blooms underneath your touch, red and angry, spilling like ink across his skin.

 He releases one hand and pulls your hair back, forcing you to look into his eyes as he splits you open, the obscene sounds of your wet pussy sounding much too loud for the car’s confines. He looks at you with so much desire it’s practically animalistic, lust clouding his usually sharp and focused eyes. You take his now free hand and push his fingers past your lips, muffling your moans around his digits. You swirl your tongue around them, maintaining eye contact.

He swears under his breath and squeezes his eyes shut, hips stuttering as he fills you up completely, emptying himself into your sensitive cunt. You barely even get a second to breathe before he flips you onto your back, slipping two fingers inside of you. He hits your g-spot dead on, fingers working against you at a rapid, brutal pace.

You scream, shouting his name as you grab onto his shoulder, digging your nails into his skin. His lips catch yours in a messy kiss, a swirling mess of teeth and tongue. 

“Baek, I can’t— I can’t, it’s too much, fuck!” The tears are rolling down your face in earnest, chest heaving as you try in vain to keep up with the overwhelming sensations.

“Give it to me, pretty girl” he commands. “Cum for me.”

Your orgasm is white-hot, world-shattering. Your vision goes spotty on the edges as your back arches, choking on the syllables of his name. And you feel it before you hear it— the gush between your thighs and the wet, sloppy sounds of it being fingered out of you.

It feels like it lasts for an eternity, but eventually, you feel yourself come back into your body. Baekhyun bends down and kisses your puffy, aching clit, making you jolt.

“Don’t worry,” he says softly. “I just wanted a little taste.” He comes back up and gives you an absolutely filthy kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” you exhale.

“Was that your first time squirting?” he asks, pulling back to give you a satisfied, and somewhat smug, smile.

You nod shakily. “That was crazy.” You brush his sweat-damp bangs out of his face and smile back at him. “You were incredible.”

“You were perfect,” he replies.

You enjoy the silence for a few moments before reality hits you like a truck. “Fuck, this car is a disaster,” you groan. 

Baekhyun surveys the area around you, but his silence is all the confirmation you need. “I… think I saw a pharmacy nearby.” He cringes. “We’ll do our best.”

The two of you do your best to clean up. It’s not perfect but it’s close, and Baekhyun leaves a hefty tip as an apology. You still can’t help but cringe with embarrassment when you return to the hotel and someone comes to take the car away. 

“What do you want to do now?” Baekhyun asks as you head back into the hotel. It’s late, but not too late that you have to go to bed immediately. But truthfully, you’re not sure if you have another Vegas adventure in you.

“Can we just walk around the hotel for a bit?”

He nods, interlacing his fingers with yours.

The two of you pick up some gelato to share while you walk around, watching the people around you flit by, off on their own little ventures. You walk past the main lobby, the casinos, the restaurants and shops, until you find yourself in an uncharacteristically quiet hallway.

“I can’t believe the trip is almost over,” you say quietly.

“I know, it went by so fast. Did you have fun?”

Your jaw hangs open slightly as you whirl towards him. “Are you kidding? This was one of the best weekends of my life! And it’s not just about Vegas, it’s because I got to spend all this time with you.”

Baekhyun smiles, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “I’m glad. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

A nearby door bursts open, nearly startling you out of your skin. A couple wearing white runs out, giggling and holding onto each other. A small wedding party follows, cheering and whooping behind them. Baekhyun grins and yells out congratulations at the newlyweds, and you wave as they turn to smile back.

“Vegas weddings,” you say, laughing slightly. “I wonder how long they’ve known each other.”

“I don’t know if it matters,” Baekhyun replies. “They seem happy.”

You hum, peeking into the now empty wedding room, decorated with gold pillars with floral vines running up their lengths. “Pretty,” you hum. You turn back to look at Baekhyun, who’s gazing at you fondly. 

“I’ve been thinking—”

“Wait…” Your heart nearly seizes in your chest. “Baekhyun, what?”

He blinks, surprised. “You don’t even know what I—” His gaze flicks from you to the empty chapel. “Oh. Oh! No, I just—” A startled laugh bubbles from his throat and he shakes his head, his face growing beet red. 

“A couple more minutes in that car and you could have convinced me,” you tease.

Baekhyun laughs. “Don’t say things that you don’t mean. I might hold you to that.”

You will yourself to stop giggling. “What were you saying?”

He composes himself and reaches out to hold your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “I think that we’ve just been skirting around this for a while, but I can’t be uncertain with you anymore. I think I’ve always known that I wanted this, but the past couple days have really made me sure of it. Will you be my girlfriend? Officially?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmm… what’s in it for me?”

Baekhyun raises an eyebrow. “Well… I can’t promise that I’ll be here for you every day. I travel a lot, so sometimes you won’t see me for days, and most weekdays I come home late and leave early in the morning without much energy to do anything but shower and fall asleep. But when I am here… I’m yours. I’ll be devoted to you, I’ll take you out on dates, I’ll shower you with affection and gifts. You’ll never want anything when you’re with me.”

“How is that any different from now?” you ask, grinning.

“I guess it isn’t,” Baekhyun smiles, cupping your jaw with one hand. “But now I get to call you mine.”

You lean into his touch, the warm, familiar, steadfast press of his hand. “I always was yours.”

“So is that a yes?”

You nod, and he tilts your chin towards him, pulling you in for a slow, gentle kiss. There’s no doubt at all in your head. It feels so right.

“Another thing,” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Does it involve stepping into that chapel and doing something we might regret later?”

“I have a feeling I wouldn’t regret it, but no.” He smiles, pulling back so that he can see you and God. His beauty just takes your breath away sometimes. “Move in with me.”

You stare at him, unresponsive for a few seconds, and he fills the silence with more words. “It’s okay if you think it’s too fast. But it just makes sense, doesn’t it? My place is closer to your work, and Mongryong loves you. Plus… it gets so quiet. I don’t think I could go from spending every second with you this weekend to only seeing you when work isn’t being a pain in the ass. You don’t have to answer right now, but—”

“Yes,” you interrupt him. “Baekhyun, of course. Yes.”

He beams, cradling your face like you’re something so precious and delicate in his hands. “You make me so happy,” he says reverently. “So, so happy.”

“I can’t even begin to tell you how happy you make me.” 

You’re about to kiss him again before you’re interrupted by more hollering down the hall. It’s a new group of people this time, all of them inebriated out of their minds, and it takes you a second to realize that they’re clapping at you. 

“Congratulations!” they scream as they pass you by.

You look behind you at the open chapel doors and laugh. It looks like you’ve just been married. Baekhyun follows your gaze and catches on, joining in your laughter.

“Thank you!” he waves at the group. 

You grab Baekhyun by the collar of his shirt and kiss him, his hands landing on the small of your back. The group’s cheers and whoops grow even louder and the world shifts around you as Baekhyun dips you, his lips never parting from yours. 

You can’t stop laughing, and it’s making it very hard to kiss him properly.

The group passes and you’re alone once again, but Baekhyun still holds you in the position for a second longer, pulling back to see your face. A warm feeling starts to spread within your chest, starting from your heart and spreading throughout your entire body. 

“I love you,” you whisper. 

For a second, he doesn’t react, expression frozen in that soft gaze. But then it breaks. He laughs, almost like a relieved sob, like hearing you say those words has shifted something deep inside of him, like he’s finally woken up after stumbling through life half-asleep. Irreparably changing him in the way that he’s changed you.

“I love you.” His voice is shaking, as if it’s the first and only true thing he’s ever said. He kisses you again and this time, you feel the totality of his feelings behind it. It’s overwhelming at first, but then the intensity subsides, wrapping you in its warmth.

You don’t know what time it is. 

Your arm is hooked around Baekhyun’s, his jacket pulled tight around your shoulders against the biting wind. The crowds have thinned out, but not by much. You can’t keep track of how many groups of girls heading to or back from the clubs that you’ve gladly taken photos for. The Strip is so bright, lights from all of the casinos and billboards illuminating the street around you. 

Neither you nor Baekhyun wants to call it a night. Doing so would mean packing up, preparing for tomorrow’s flight. The end of the vacation.

You stop for a break and lean your head against Baekhyun’s shoulder, trying to take from his warmth. He wraps his arm around you and holds you tight.

“Cold?” he asks.

You shake your head. He knows it’s a lie, but he doesn’t fight you on it. To insist that you need to warm up would insist on going back inside. 

There’s silence for a few moments, and then you hear it.

“Are you hungry?” you ask. 

Baekhyun’s cheeks flush red at you having heard his stomach rumbling. “A little. But none of the restaurants are open this late.”

You scan the area around you and point out a hotdog stand manned by a single person. “Hey, look.”

Before Baekhyun can even say anything, you take off toward it, pulling out your wallet as you go. “Hi, two please?” 

“You don’t have to—” 

You’re already handing the cash over before Baekhyun can intervene, shooting him a look over your shoulder. The man smiles and hands you a hotdog each, loaded up with fried onions and different sauces. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Baekhyun says as you walk away. “We could probably have found something to order back at the room.”

“Consider it payback for earlier. Isn’t this more fun, anyway?” you reply. “Just playing it by ear, rolling with the punches?”

Baekhyun eyes the hot dog with a bit of skepticism. “Before you start gloating let’s try them first.” 

You take a bite defiantly, eyeing for him to do the same. And…

“Holy shit,” he says.

“Fuck.”

“This is the best hot dog I’ve ever had.”

“Jesus.”

You scarf down the food with enthusiasm, not even realizing how hungry you had been this whole time. Baekhyun does the same, murmuring praise with each bite, a look on his face so blissful that you would have made fun of him if you weren’t feeling the same things. 

“I mean—”

“Just incredible.”

“And you were doubting me.”

Baekhyun raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I admit I was doubting the random hotdog stand on the Strip. Lock me up.”

“Only if I can put you in handcuffs.”

He barks out a laugh, throwing an arm around your waist and hugging you close. “If you think out of the two of us I’m the one that’s gonna be in handcuffs, you are very mistaken, my love.”

My love. You look at him to find that he’s looking back at you with stars in his eyes. It seems that he’s also realized the phrase that he’s let slip, but he doesn’t seem to be that shocked or surprised by it. Like everything with Baekhyun, it seems to have come so easily.

“Are you just about ready to head back?” he asks quietly.

A part of you wants to say no. A part of you wants to stay out forever, live in this little world outside of time, outside of work and responsibilities that would keep you away from each other. Not for long, sure, but any time without him feels impossible to imagine. How can you willingly go back to that when you’ve been spoiled rotten with his attention this weekend?

But then, when he smiles at you reassuringly, tucking you even closer next to him, it hits you suddenly that it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t the city that brought you closer together, after all. It was coming all along, simmering underneath the surface. The circumstances will change, the scenery will change, but Baekhyun won’t change. Like the tide, it may pull away for some time, but it always comes back, reliable and steady.

It doesn’t matter where you are. Your affection for him, your fondness, your love, will always keep you with him.

“Yeah,” you say, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth that you hope conveys everything you’ve been thinking. “Let’s go home.”

in case anyone was curious i headcanon that b was singing folded by kehlani and reader is singing love by keyshia cole

ty ty ty if u read this far! i liked playing around with older baek, i tend to make him younger so this was a step further outside my comfort zone. i hope it's okay that this ended up being plottier than i originally promised. and again i'm sorry that it's already march. i hope that u all had as much fun reading this as i did writing it. love you <3

taglist: @kkurubae @lovecomesbaek @yjwpout @iywxzo @xsooahx @lysslovers @exokateblr @raspage @littleflowercrown13 @10hrs26mn @raquelle00 @cacophonoussouls

Within a few weeks you’d mastered sipping the blood from a wine glass, and Baekhyun decided you were ready for the next step. He drove you out to a trail, where you and him would hike for a few hours. He told you that there would be other people, but not many, and very few of them would get close. 

When you reached the trailhead there were a couple other cars, and the second you were out of the car he insisted on keeping your hand in his. 

“In case you start to lose control, I’ll make sure you don’t hurt anyone.” 

You didn’t mind at all, happily lacing your fingers through his own, and making your way down the trail. 

He looked especially good that day, in just a fitted black t-shirt and simple black shorts. 

Huge trees surrounded you both, moss covering the scenery in a lush green blanket. It was beautiful without a doubt, but the smells were definitely a distraction, your throat becoming dry, the thirst growing stronger and stronger, even though you hadn’t seen anyone yet. Baekhyun kept giving you water to try and make it a bit more tolerable, but it was still extremely uncomfortable.

It grew to be too much when you heard the footsteps of a jogger from a few hundred meters behind you. You froze, squeezing Baekhyun’s hand with all the inhuman strength you had. You couldn’t speak, the burning pain in your throat becoming unbearable. The sound of footsteps continued getting closer, and he stayed standing with you, whispering in your ear to reassure you, “It’ll be okay, they’re almost passed us.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you nodded, taking every ounce of self control to stay put. It wasn’t just the smell anymore either, you could sense the way the blood rushed through their veins, heart pumping rapidly, the temptation taking over every nerve in your body. The relief you knew you’d feel as soon as you sunk your teeth into them overpowered any rational thought or self control. When the jogger passed, a wave of their scent hit you, and you lunged. 

You yanked on Baekhyun’s hand, trying to free yourself, but he was stronger. He pulled you back, his other arm wrapping around your waist, your back flush to his body as he held you firmly against himself.

“You’re okay, I got you. I got you. You’re not gonna hurt anyone.” 

His lips were almost touching your neck, adrenaline completely consuming you, panting heavily as he continued to hold you in place. 

It took a minute for the jogger to get far enough away for you to snap out of it, but eventually you did, and soon it was the way Baekhyun pressed you against himself that took over your senses. 

He was still talking, his soft voice in your ear sending shock waves through you. “I’ve got you, everything’s alright,” he said, and you quivered in his arms. 

You’d never been that close before, the proximity nothing short of intoxicating. His body behind you was firm, anchoring you with the arm wrapped around your waist, your ass inevitably pressed to his groin. Within seconds you were imagining how it would feel, the divine relief you’d finally get if he bent you over and took you right there in the woods. 

Something between a whine and a moan escaped your lips, and at last Baekhyun let go of you, though he still held onto your hand. 

You felt his eyes on you as you stared at the ground, nearly delirious, head spinning, completely overwhelmed. 

“Let’s get back to the car.” He eventually said, tugging you back up the trail, and you didn’t respond, just let him pull you along. You couldn’t think, let alone talk, it was all just too much. 

On the drive back to his house the tears started coming, shame and embarrassment washing over you. He never let go of your hand, understanding how you must’ve felt, remembering his own past, and how difficult it could be. 

For the first time, you felt like a monster. Not having control of yourself was terrifying. The fact that Baekhyun had seen you lose control, and had to be the one who held you back made it even worse. 

Back at his house you just cried and cried, curled up on the couch with your head on his lap as he stroked your hair. The way you’d reacted to the jogger had been a reality check, in a way. You hadn’t even considered that you could lose control, and potentially hurt or kill someone, even someone you loved. The blood bags had been difficult enough to resist, and living people were so much more tempting. You’d gone blind to anything and everything else in that moment, and that loss of control wasn’t something you could cope with. 

He reassured you that everything was alright, that he would never let anything happen, it had just been bad luck, and you'd try again another day. Still, he knew there was only so much his words could do to help, and the fear and guilt you felt simply needed time. 

Before the change, you’d always had a fairly strong sense of discipline. Impulse control was never much of a struggle. But now, with the way you reacted to the jogger, and to him, you felt your own lack of humanity for the first time. There was another part of you now, a part that consumed the previously poised, controlled, version of yourself. The need for blood, and for his touch, intertwined themselves into something that made it difficult to recognize who you used to be. 

It was more than just the loss of control over your thirst that scared you. You were losing control around him, the way your body reacted to his touch frightening you almost as much. You were like an animal, fueled entirely by hunger and sex. You lived with him, and had to constantly fight off the urge to throw yourself at him, every small touch igniting a fire within you. The memory of his chest flush to your back, his lips on the shell of your ear, it made you dizzy. But he’d never done anything to show that he might desire you the same way.

When you were satiated, that is to say, you’d just drank, and there was some physical contact with him, it was okay. You’d still want more, but thinking clearly wasn’t a problem. You could exist in a state that, to some degree, was starting to feel normal. Anytime those desires were tested, however, it loosened the strings of your sanity. 

As you continued to grapple with the events of the day, the tears kept coming, and Baekhyun stayed there with you, keeping you close. He knew the contact would help your mood. 

Later that evening, something occurred to you, and you asked him, “Baekhyun, can vampires get drunk?” 

“Yeah, although I hardly drink.”

“Do you think you could get us some wine?.” 

He figured it was the least he could do, so he went out to get a few bottles, and soon you were settled on the couch with him, both having a glass. You shared a bottle, and by the time it was empty, you and him both felt more relaxed. The alcohol numbed some of your pain and guilt, which came as a welcome relief. 

What you weren't numb to at all, and probably never would be, no matter how much you drank, was his effect on you. He was just sitting there next to you, wine glass in hand, gazing out into the distance, but in your eyes he was completely breathtaking. His profile looked like it had been carefully handcrafted to your tastes, features all in perfect balance with one another. Beautiful didn't feel like a good enough word to describe him, he was gorgeous, and even that didn't do him justice. 

You detached yourself from him, trying to take your mind off of him, but it was useless. His hand on his wine glass tore your mind back into those familiar, torturous thoughts you’d become so plagued by. Mental images of that same hand on your skin burned themselves into your mind, and you shuddered. Those perfect fingers, and all they could do, the relief they could bring you, the way they curled around the stem of the glass clouding your mind. 

It was shameful sitting right next to him, fantasizing uncontrollably about his fingers inside you, but that had become your reality. For weeks you’d been fighting it, but it only got worse. It was an obsession, and your attempts at getting more contact, even if seemingly innocent, a compulsion. 

You scooted closer again, closer than before, leaning into him, feeling some of the tension ease up as you wrapped your hands around one of his strong arms. 

He moved away. Now that you’d both been drinking, getting so close felt too risky. 

It tore at his heart, the way you whined and pouted at his rejection, settling into the opposite end of the couch, curling up with your knees to your chest. The expression on your face was easy to read, you were upset, but there was real physical discomfort there too. 

“Sorry, it’s annoying, I know.” You mumbled, slurring slightly, the wine loosening your lips. 

“What?’ 

“You heard me.” You said softly, “I know you know how much I like you but you always ignore it.”

Your chin rested on your knee, the hurt on your face making him frown too. He didn’t miss the way your lip quivered, afraid that you’d start crying again, but you just stayed like that, doing everything you could to avoid his eyes. 

“Y/n, look at me.” 

You shook your head, staring at the rug on the floor. 

The feel of his cold hand on your face made you jump, and he brought your eyes back up to his own, holding you in place. 

“You have no idea what you're talking about.” 

With that you recoiled, slapping his hand away. 

A long sigh left him, and finally, he said, “I’m sorry. There's some things I've been keeping from you, that I think you should know.” 

You looked back at him, and his hand slipped into your own, resting them atop his thigh. 

“First off, you’re not annoying, not at all. And I do know how you feel about me, you’re right about that, but you only feel that way because of the situation I put you in. When someone gets changed, part of their prey drive, what gets them to hunt, is craving physical touch. When someone gets changed, and then the person who changed them looks after them, they still have those same urges, but on top of that, it bonds them emotionally, so it all gets directed towards that person. I knew about all of that in theory before I changed you, but I didn’t realize how bad it would get. I just wanted to help. I’m so sorry.” 

You sank into yourself even further, grateful that you weren’t able to blush, and didn’t have a heartbeat. It was embarrassing, if not downright humiliating, that he’d known exactly how turned on you were by him this whole time. Still, something else stood out even more. 

“What do you mean, it ‘bonds them emotionally’?” 

Baekhyun knew that he couldn’t add on more lies now, as much as that might’ve simplified things for him, and in his mind, protected you. He had to be honest.

“It creates a certain kind of bond, makes them care deeply for each other, want to be close to one another, touch one another, they’ll feel a strong attraction that’s impossible to break once it's there.” 

“So that means… You feel it too then? Right?” You asked, cautious, scared of the outright rejection you’d been so fearful of but equally terrified of the implications if he agreed. 

Baekhyun just looked back at you sympathetically, wanting to find some way to stall or change the subject, but he knew that was no longer an option. Eventually, he nodded. 

You saw red. A confusing mix of lust and anger drove you to the brink of madness, all within a couple seconds. All you did was stare back at him in shock and disbelief.

“But then.. Why?” You asked in a pathetic little whisper, though your voice soon found its strength again. “These last weeks I’ve felt like I was completely out of my mind because all I can think about is you, your hands, your lips, your fucking arms and shoulders and thighs, I’ve never wanted to touch someone nearly as badly as I want you, and you knew? All along? And you genuinely want this too but still won’t let it happen?” 

He tried to move closer but you recoiled completely, yanking your hand from where he held it to avoid even the slightest touch. You couldn’t look at him. 

“Do not touch me- not now.” 

“You have to understand, I’m doing this to protect you.” 

 Hot, angry tears streamed down your face. “To protect me?! Protect me from what exactly? You are torturing me, you know you are.” 

“Y/n, sweetheart, please don’t cry, I’m sorry, I just can’t touch you when I know you only feel like this because I changed you. I can’t take advantage of you like that, it wouldn’t be right.”

When you finally did look back at him, your stomach lurched. Even through your anger, the fact that you now knew he’d had similar thoughts about you, drove you close to insanity. He ran a hand through his hair, parting it messily, the way his forearm flexed pulling you in the same way it always did. It surged through you, the need, the desperation. He was gorgeous as ever, so completely irresistibly alluring, and yet still cruelly out of reach. 

“If you know how bad I want this too, why wouldn’t it be right?” 

This time when he reached out to touch you, you didn’t flinch, you leaned into him, letting his hand snake its way from your jaw to the nape of your neck. He kept your eyes glued to his own, though you weren’t capable of looking away, even if you’d wanted to. 

Red eyes darted all over your face, and you saw the unmistakable tension behind them, mirroring your own. He was so close now, it wouldn’t take much for him to kiss you. 

His eyes squeezed shut, forehead coming to rest against your own. The closeness was so much, leaving you in a dreamlike state as he held himself back. 

“I’ve killed people, you know I have. I’m not a good person. Whatever you feel for me, it isn’t real, at least not beyond the surface. I can’t take advantage of that.” 

“That’s bullshit.” You eventually said, forcing the words out. “That was centuries ago, and you saved my life, you’re a doctor, you save people’s lives every day, I know you’re not some murderous monster.”

You watched him swallow, jaw clenching in response to your pleas. You were certain that if you could just kiss him, feel his skin under your palms, feel his hands on your body, all your anguish would instantly be cured. The deprivation swept over you so completely, another broken sob choked you as it forced its way out. 

“I can’t keep living like this,” You cried, “I can’t stay in this house with you, knowing you want me the same way, and still hold myself back. I’m losing my mind. Please.” 

One hand took hold of his shoulder, pushing his body even closer, as you nestled your face into his neck. “Please, Baekhyun, I’ll do anything.” 

Despite his body being cold, feeling more like marble than flesh, the sensation still pushed you even further into the blinding need.

His exhale was shaky, and he didn’t try to push you away. You whispered another “Please,” your lips lightly brushing his neck, and shivers ran down his spine. 

The last couple weeks flashed before his eyes, every little touch, every lingering glance. The tension had already been mounting, but in that moment, it became entirely too much, even for him. He inhaled, his finely tuned senses easily picking up on the waves of desire emanating from your desperate form. 

The wine glass was long abandoned on the coffee table, and he slowly let his hand travel from your nape down your back, applying pressure, just a little, to bring you closer. 

With that simple touch he coaxed a moan from your lips, breathy and surprised at the contact. It sounded divine, so needy, and all for him. You sounded gorgeous, and his resolve was beginning to slip away. He, too, craved so much more.

His other hand took hold of your thigh, groaning at the softness of your skin, basking in the sensitive sounds that he was so easily able to pull from you. 

“This is wrong.” He whispered, but did nothing to break away. Your hand on his back grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt, refusing to let him go. 

“More wrong than letting me suffer? Than letting me stay here, wishing all day and all night that you would touch me, wanting you so badly it fucking hurts?” 

“It's really that bad?” He ran a hand through your hair, letting his touch travel further up your leg. When your eyes met his again, he saw it clearly, how painful this was for you. 

Tears stained your cheeks, and you nodded weakly, “It’s like the thirst, like I'm starving and there’s a cup of fresh blood always right in front of me, but every time I reach out, it moves, just out of reach. I can’t take it anymore, not now.” 

You sounded so broken, so desperate. Admitting it to himself wasn’t easy, but he began to enjoy the neediness, you begging for him, your teary eyes insisting that his touch was your only possible salvation. 

He felt your hand tighten its grip on his shirt, sounding pained as you whined for more, now that he was so close. 

“Y/n?” He whispered. 

Glassy eyes bore into his own, red and hungry. His hand inched further up your thigh, and you trembled as you realized that this time, he wasn't stopping. His fingers traced a gentle path, caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh, until he reached the hem of your shorts. 

“Is this really what you want, baby?” He whispered, his breath hot on your lips.

“Yes, fuck, please, I need it so bad, so fucking bad.” 

When he finally kissed you, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. It was like that first ever taste of blood, a sort of frenzy igniting within you both. The relief was impossible to describe. A month's worth of tension, tension so thick and unbearable that it hurt, was gone in an instant, replaced with pure blinding pleasure. 

Baekhyun, who'd held himself back so effectively thus far, completely lost any sense of control he'd once possessed. Within seconds he had you pinned beneath him on the couch, his lips fervent as they pressed against your own. Your moans made it easy for him to deepen the kiss, letting him taste you as his hands pushed themselves under your shirt. 

He’d known that he felt it too, the attachment, the attraction, but now that he was finally really touching you it became clear just how much he’d also been holding back. The sense of relief that came with kissing and touching you was like getting a taste of fresh blood after weeks of thirst. He had to imagine that for you, it was even more amplified, and he loved knowing that. 

It was one of the reasons he’d been so hesitant, he knew that he would have the upper hand, and he liked that. He liked being in control, seeing you so desperate for him was enchanting. There was still a part of him that wondered how ethical this really was, but you begged for him so well, that didn’t matter anymore. 

The next several moments passed in a blur of torn clothing as you both hastily undressed each other, too impatient to bother with keeping the garments in tact. The second you were fully bare, spread out beneath him, Baekhyun fought the smile that tugged at his lips. You looked so fucking decadent, he almost couldn’t believe his luck, or how he’d ever denied himself when’d you'd been right there this whole time. 

His lips on your neck were hot, sucking the skin just below your ear past his lips. “What do you want, baby? Hmm? What is it you need me to do so badly? I want to hear you say it.” 

“Anything,” You gasp, having to force the word out between whimpers. “Anything you want, just touch me, fuck me, use me, make me yours, make me come, fuck, please. I’ll be so good for you, do whatever you want, as long as you touch me.” 

He gazed back into your desperate eyes, pupils blown wide, glassy with need. Fuck you looked so perfect like this, he thought. 

“As you wish, my love.” 

Those two fingers that had looked so alluring holding onto his wine glass, now entered you in one smooth motion. You cried out, and he silenced you with a rough, messy kiss. His fingers found your sweet spot within just seconds, bringing you closer and closer to your first orgasm of the night with unprecedented speed. 

You could both hear it, the wet sounds your pussy made as his now soaked fingers pushed into you again and again, until you nearly screamed at the blinding force of your orgasm. He pulled it from you so easily, he wondered what more he could do to you, how little it would take to unravel you completely.

Baekhyun was obsessed with the way you gushed on his fingers, coating them in a thick white cream that he savored the flavor of, sucking it off of his own fingers lewdly before pushing his tongue past your lips, giving you a taste. 

You could hardly register his actions, once your high hit you. It was stronger than anything you’d ever felt before, your heightened senses making the entire experience so much more intense. It would be generous to say you were conscious, by then your reality felt more like a dream than anything else. 

He only gave you seconds to recover, immediately kissing down your body in his quest to get an even better taste of you. He just knew he needed more, needed to drink you in, feel you and taste you as you lost yourself to his tongue and lips. 

And so he did, burying his face in your pussy, eating you out like it was his life's mission, like his 250+ years had all been leading up to that moment. He was obsessed, relishing your taste, the sounds of your moans, and the trembling of your thighs. You were already overstimulated, stupified by the onslaught of overwhelming pleasure. It wasn’t long at all until the flicking of his tongue and suction of his lips sent you flying into another mind shattering orgasm. This time he was almost as loud as you, lapping up every drop of moisture that leaked out of you as he moaned with delight. 

It wasn’t until you were shaking, twitching, and begging for a break that he pulled away. The way he looked down at you, completely spent and ruined, because of him, was so fucking smug. Even though you couldn’t blush, or sweat, or even feel the need to breathe, you still looked freshly fucked in the best way. Your disheveled hair and swollen lips were all the proof he needed, though he knew they wouldn’t last long. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you, that not needing to sleep, meant never really getting tired, either. Even now, after two orgasms so intense you could barely remember your own name, you still had energy, still wanted more, much more. 

His thumb traced your upper lip as he kept his eyes on you, the lust swimming heavily in your eyes. When he pushed the pad of the finger past your lips, you sucked on it gratefully, swirling your tongue around the tip of it. 

“My greedy little slut.” He smirked, and you smiled back in confirmation. 

“Are you going to fuck me now?” You asked, fluttering your eyelashes at him, trying not to sound too desperate. 

“Is that what you want, little one?” 

You nodded, biting your lip, “Want it so fucking bad.” 

“You know, it's different, for us, because of what we are… I don’t ever have to stop, or rest. Once we start…” You squealed at the sudden pressure of his cock, hard and heavy, against your clit. “I might not be able to stop.” 

“Don't care, don't want you to stop.” 

He moved his hips, just slightly, just enough to tease your clit with his tip, again, and again. 

You whine, and writhe beneath him, your hands grabbing wildly at his bare torso, trying to bring him closer. 

When he gets up off the couch completely, you stifle a sob. But your disappointment doesn’t last long, when he offers you a hand, and swiftly pulls you up off the couch and throws you over his shoulder. In seconds you’re on the other side of the house, in the one room with a bed, where you are laid down while Baekhyun rummages through some drawers. 

Without a word he moved you to lay on your stomach, and tied your hands behind your back with a silk necktie. He flipped you back over, and smiled at the way you struggled against the restraints, your hands now pinned behind your back. 

His lips pressed wet kissed to your neck before hovering over your ear, “You still want me to fuck you, even if you cum so much you can’t take it anymore, and I still won’t stop?” 

“I can always take more of you.” 

He grinned, “We’ll see.” 

And then, he was pushing inside. There was no warning, though he knew you didn’t need one, he knew you were ready. Instinctually you fought against your restraints, wanting to reach out and touch him, but the fabric didn’t give the way you hoped it would. The feeling of him finally buried inside you was divine. He fit you perfectly, like you knew he would, and when he started to move, he hit every sensitive spot like he’d been made for it. 

He picked up the speed, sitting up and putting your legs up on his shoulders as he pounded into you mercilessly, chasing his own high. You loved every second of it, loved the roughness, the way he used you, tied up and helpless as he fucked you to his hearts content. You loved being his fucktoy, his helpless little doll that he got to use as he pleased, and still you knew you could take so much more, wanted so much more. 

He slapped one of your breasts as it bounced in time with his thrusts, bringing you back to the present moment from where you’d drifted off for a second. 

“What is it? Hmm? You already going soft in the head, is my cock too much for you?” 

You shook your head, though he could easily see how intense this already was for you. 

“Yeah? You think you can take even more?”

You nodded, and he took that as a personal challenge. Without giving you as much as a second to react, he was flipping you over onto your stomach. Your hands remained bound behind your back, where Baekhyun now held tightly onto your wrists, pushing you further into the mattress, making you arch, pushing your ass up and onto him harder. As he sank back inside you, the fullness was astounding.  This angle somehow let you feel him even deeper, made him hit that special spot right on, and with force. 

Baekhyun got lost in it. The image of your tense, arched, back, and your swollen pussy lips as they greedily welcomed his cock again and again, sent him rapidly towards his peak. Every time he bottomed out you’d let out a gasp, or a whimpered moan, sounds that sent shivers down his spine. And the way you squeezed him... Your previous orgasms left you sensitive, pulsing around him uncontrollably. The harder he fucked you, the more you moaned, arched, and squeezed around him, and it drove him fucking insane, until he was releasing his first load, feeling the heat flooding inside you. 

The warmth and fullness, combined with Baekhyun’s whispered praises, brought you right back to the edge. When one hand reached around you, playing with your clit as he sucked a bruise onto the back of your neck, you were also gone. 

He stayed inside, hips flush to yours, basking in the way your pussy fluttered around him, body twitching with persistent aftershocks. For a while he didn't move, just enjoyed how your spent form still surrounded him, hot and wet and soaked in his cum. 

The helpless way you writhed around and tremors of your sobs pulled him back to reality, and he turned you back around, getting a good look at your tearstained face, pupils still blown wide with want. 

‘I want to touch you, fuck, please, let me touch you.” You begged, desperately fighting your restraints. 

He just smirked down at you, watching as you choked on another sob. 

“Can you say ‘Baekhyun, please?’ hmm? I want to hear you say it.” 

His lips peppered soft kisses along your collarbone, and you finally got the words out, forced and breathless between pathetic moans and whimpers. 

“Baekhyun, please.” 

His teeth met your earlobe, giving it a tug, whispering “Good girl” in your ear before he finally untied your wrists. 

This time as he fucked you, you held onto him, nails digging into his back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, keeping him as close as possible. Each roll of his hips went unbelievably deep, feeling the way he hit your cervix with each press of his hips to your own. 

It didn't seem to matter that Baekhyun had never touched you before that night, he just knew. Knew how to angle his hips, where to kiss your neck, what to whisper in your ear to make you shatter into a million pieces at his leisure, over and over again. 

You soon came to realize that being fucked by him was like eating at a five star buffet, and never getting full. Even after more orgasms than either of you could count, there was still no end in sight, not even for a short break. The pleasure only seemed to compound on itself, every orgasm even better than the last. 

He blamed you when he was almost late to work, still unwilling to tear himself away from your touch. You were almost convinced that you wouldn't even need blood anymore, as long as you had him to distract you from the thirst. 

His touch had been everything you needed and so much more. You'd known how desperate you were for him, had felt the relentless pressure of your arousal for weeks. Even then, you were shocked at the clarity you were now able to move with. While he was at work you actually got a good amount of writing done, something you hadn't managed to accomplish since your arrival there. 

When he returned later that day you easily fell back into each other's arms, and eventually, his bed. The second night with him was slower, taking your time to enjoy and explore one another properly, unrushed. Savor it. After all, you had an eternity left to spend with him. 

You open the door to your apartment, exhaustion from the day weighing heavily on your shoulders. Yet another night alone in the apartment too large for one person lies ahead, eating dinner curled up on your couch while the TV drones on mindlessly in the background. You’d be the first to say that you aren’t exactly anxious to get started with your little routine as of late.

The placid dread immediately gives way to panic when you step inside the threshold and hear shuffling in the kitchen.

Then, immediate relief when you hear the familiar humming.

You poke your head around the corner and smile to yourself when you see Baekhyun flitting about your dining area, organizing everything. Open boxes of takeout sit on the kitchen counter, and a fresh vase of flowers sits in the center of the table. 

“You’re home!” 

Baekhyun startles, nearly dropping the container of noodles onto the plate he’s preparing. He breaks out into a grin and scoops you up into his arms, peppering kisses all over your face. “I thought I had another hour,” he says. “I decided to bail on the last day of the conference so I could come back home.”

You kiss him and smile when he tries to chase your mouth for another. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. I was just thinking about how much I didn’t want to spend another boring night by myself.”

He strokes your arm gently, getting a faraway, thoughtful look in his eyes for a second. “I know,” he frowns. “I’m sorry. I’ve been away so much.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I know that work’s important.” You peer around him at the table setting. “So what did you get? I’m starving.”

Baekhyun’s always clingy when he gets back from a work trip, but tonight is something else. He goes through the entirety of dinner making physical contact with you in some way. He scoots his chair from its regular place across from you to right by your side, one hand on your thigh, on your free hand, playing with your hair.

“Aren’t you hungry?” you ask, pointing at his nearly untouched plate of food. He just blinks at it as if he forgot it was there entirely, taking one bite before turning his attention back to you.

His touchiness doesn’t stop there. He wraps his arms around you as you do the dishes, tucking his face in the crook of your neck. He hops in the shower with you, washing your hair with all the thoroughness and precision of a surgeon performing open-heart surgery. And every time you turn back to face him, he pouts his lips out in a request for a kiss.

Of course, you’re happy to oblige all of these things. That doesn’t mean that his extra bids for your attention go unnoticed.

“I have something I want to talk to you about,” he says softly, later in bed. “Are you up for it?”

“Is it serious?” Worry already tugs at the edges of your heart. 

“Serious, yes. Negative, no.” He reaches out across the sheets and interlaces your hand with his. “I got a promotion.”

Your eyes widen. “What?! That’s amazing, baby, why didn’t you say anything sooner?” 

“Because there’s a lot about it that I want to discuss with you. This position is different. It’s not as client-facing, so it’s a lot more behind the scenes with the company.”

“But I thought working with clients is what you love doing,” you frown. You’ve seen the way that Baekhyun lights up in the presence of others. The way he just turns on to the max. It’s charming and utterly magnetizing, and every time you see him in action it reminds you just how you fell in love with him all those years ago. 

“It is,” he admits. “But it pays more and… I only have to travel once or twice a year. I think I want to take it.”

“I support you,” you say hesitantly. “But it feels like there’s more.”

Baekhyun smiles, fiddling with his wedding band in the way he does when he’s nervous, a habit that you share with him. “Since I’ll be home more often… What do you say we start trying?”

Since the early days of your marriage, you knew that you ultimately wanted to start a family with Baekhyun. You knew that he wanted it too. You saw the way that he looked fondly at the kids playing at the park, and the way he chased around his nephew during Christmas. But he would never want it if he couldn’t be there to devote his everything to you and your child, so you both put those dreams on the back burner for several years. But now, here they were in front of you, looking at you with hopeful eyes and a nervous smile.

“Oh, Baek…” you whisper, cupping his face with both hands. “Yes. Yes, let’s do it.”

Baekhyun beams, leaning forward to kiss you deeply. Your heart feels fit to burst with love, love for your husband here before you and for the future ahead. His hand drifts down your side, inching towards the curve of your hips, playing with the waistband of your pajama shorts.

“Hey, now,” you joke, slapping his hand away playfully. “I didn’t know we were starting right now.”

“Can’t I just show you how much I missed you?” he murmurs, peppering kisses down the length of your jaw. He leaves a bite just below your earlobe, sending a shiver down the length of your spine. “Two weeks is a long time to be away from you.”

“Tell me about it,” you sigh, tilting your head back. “Missed you too.”

In one quick motion, he pulls your shorts and underwear down your thighs, running the tip of his fingers through your folds. “Feels like it,” he smirks. “So wet.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, placing a hand on the nape of his neck. You pull him down towards you, kissing him softly as he sinks his middle finger into your heat. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Baekhyun’s eyes glint slightly in the darkness, flicking up from the sight of your pussy sucking his finger in to meet your gaze. “Didn’t fuck yourself while I was gone?”

You shake your head, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth when he adds another finger. “No point. It doesn’t feel half as good when it’s not with you.”

Baekhyun growls at that, nipping at your neck while he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you. He curls them slightly, the pads of his fingertips flirting with that devastating spot inside of you, making your back arch off the bed. It doesn’t matter how long he’s gone for: a day, a week, a month. Your body always bows for him upon his return, desperate and shaking for him within seconds as if it’s been a lifetime since you’ve been touched. 

“Baekhyun, please,” you whimper. “Get on with it already.”

He smirks, brushing his thumb over your clit. “Needy,” he hums. Teasing.

“Please.” You slide your hands up the front of his shirt, feeling the plane of his chest under your fingers. “Put a baby in me,” you whisper.

And he just—

Snaps. 

A groan rips from his chest, deep and almost feral. He slides his fingers out of you and clumsily pushes down the waistband of his sweatpants, his cock already hard and leaking. “Say that again,” he says raspily, the tip already pressed against your soaked entrance, just barely pushing inside. “Say what you want one more time.”

You hook one leg around his waist, drawing him closer. “Put a baby inside me.”

He presses into you, his hips flush against yours, burying himself all the way inside of you. His arms bracket your face as he begins to move, swallowing each of your soft moans with his lips. “Fuck, you’re gonna look so good carrying our baby,” he mutters heatedly. “So fucking good.”

He starts off gentle, savoring the feeling of your plush walls wrapped around him, the sight of your hair splayed beneath you on the pillow like soft tendrils, your eyes gazing up at him lovingly. His hand slips down to play with the hem of his old shirt that you wore to bed, pulling it up to your chest so that he can see the way that your tits move with each of his thrusts. As he moves, his hand pauses on your stomach and the image of you, full and swollen with his baby flits across his mind.

“Baek?” you ask when he stills. “Is everything— ah, fuck!”

Baekhyun throws your ankles over his shoulder and presses forward, pushing you into a mating press. Every press of his cock feels even deeper now, each stroke striking your g-spot, electricity blooming underneath your skin and traveling up your spine. You shudder around him, holding onto his shoulders for support.

“Fuck, you’re so deep,” you whimper, digging your nails into his skin so hard you know they’ll leave crescent-shaped indents. 

He exhales, his eyes intense and dark. “Gotta make sure it takes. Gonna fill you up, angel.”

Baekhyun doesn’t waste any time, snaking one hand in between your legs to rub your clit, pressing into the sensitive nub until you’re shivering, the crest of your orgasm approaching steadily. You sense that he’s close too, the way that his hips are stuttering in their pace, his breath hitching as he starts to frantically chase his high.

“God, Baek—” You cry out, throwing your head back as your legs start to shake. “Cum in me, cum in me, please!”

He rasps out a moan, his head dropping low as he cums inside of you, shooting long ropes into you just as your walls start to pulse around him, your own orgasm overtaking you. You cling to him, the muscles in your legs screaming for relief as the tidal wave of pleasure begins to calm down. 

You pull your legs down and around his waist, pulling him forward until he’s settled on your chest. You brush your fingers through his sweat-damp hair, your eyes fluttering shut as he kisses your temple. 

A soft moan of surprise falls from your lips as Baekhyun begins to shift inside you ever so slightly, just an adjustment at first, but then clearly rutting into you. “Baby, what— what are you doing?”

“Need to make sure,” he says hoarsely, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. “Need to make sure you’re full.”

It’s dirty, your inner thighs a disaster of a mess, your pussy leaking a mixture of your slick and his cum. You’re sensitive, almost too sensitive, each of Baekhyun’s movements sending your nerves into overdrive. He’s sensitive too, you can hear it in the way that his breath shakes in your ear. But when he looks up at you with those eyes, those big, pleading, desperate eyes… How can you say no?

You tighten your legs around him and he sobs, leaning forward to kiss you messily. “I love you,” he all but whimpers. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too.” You brush the hair out of his eyes and try to convey the depth, the totality of your love for him through your gaze. “I love you, Baekhyun.”

His chest heaves, cupping both of your cheeks with his hands, cradling you tenderly like you’re the sun. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers reverently. “And you’re all mine.”

“Yours, Baek.”

He whimpers again, as though the admission pains him. “Say it again, baby, I’m close.”

You draw his head back to your chest, laying skin to skin as he ruts inside of you desperately. “I’m yours, Baek,” you say. “Forever.”

He cums with a high-pitched whine, the muscles in his body tensing as he empties everything he has inside of you. He pants, gasping for air against your skin as though he’s been drowning all this time without you. His lips press kisses into your skin, traveling up your neck until they find home at your lips, brushing against them softly.

“You know we can try for as long as we want,” you say, spent, but still able to muster a light tease in your voice. “We don’t have to get it right on the first try.”

He hums, smiling softly at you. “True. And I plan on doing this every single day until you’re pregnant so we’ll never know when it actually happened.”

You roll your eyes and swat his back lightly, laughing when he pouts until you kiss it away. 

he’s the king of soft launches that aren’t soft at all. his phone gallery (and social media) is basically a fan account of you. he loves to take photos of you no matter the reason.

the ultimate definition of clingy. for baekhyun, touch is as necessary as oxygen.

he doesn’t just hold your hand; he interlocks his fingers with yours and constantly rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

if you try to pull away to do something, he’ll whine playfully and hold on tighter.

his favorite way to exist is glued to your back. whether you’re brushing your teeth or cooking, he’s there, arms wrapped around your waist, chin hooked over your shoulder, swaying you side-to-side.

even on a king-sized bed, he’ll occupy the six inches of space right next to you. he needs to feel your skin—a foot tucked under your calf, a hand on your waist, or his face buried in the crook of your neck.

if he’s particularly tired, he’ll mumble your name in his sleep or pull you closer in a death grip without even waking up. if you move away, he’ll subconsciously migrate across the bed until he finds you again.

don’t get surprise if he tells you “i love you” even when he’s sleeping.

he looooves taking you on random dates—the park, for an ice cream, amusement park, cinema, a concert, everywhere but with you.

he loves it even more when you steal his hoodies or his shirts. he’s convinced his clothes look better on you.

he doesn’t need a calendar to tell him when to be romantic. to him, the fact that it’s a tuesday is enough of a reason to celebrate you.

you’ll walk into the kitchen and find a massive bouquet of your favorite flowers just because “they reminded me of your smile.”

baekhyun loves to shop, but he buys more for you than for himself. he’ll come home with bags saying, “i bought this because i wanna see you wear it tonight.”

he loves to praise you until he leaves you overwhelmed.

he’ll narrate every single thing he loves about you while he’s touching you. “you’re so beautiful, i think i’m actually going crazy.” 

“how am i supposed to let you leave the house looking like this?” he whispers into your ear, telling you exactly how much power you have over him.

he loves to hear you gasp or whimper because it proves he’s affecting you as much as you affect him.

baekhyun likes to mark you with his own scent—rubbing his cheek against yours or lingering with his kisses until you smell like his cologne. it’s a subtle, intense way of saying you belong to him.

he isn’t good at cooking, but he’ll be there to make you laugh while you’re doing it—stealing kisses, hugs and praising your cooking.

he knows you love when he’s in the mood for a little dance in the middle of the kitchen. he doesn’t care about the music, he’ll hum closer to your ear.

bonus: honeymoon!! | +0,4 words

forget about lazy vacations. he’ll chase you around the room, pinning you to the bed or the balcony doors, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and pure, unadulterated lust, his hands moving under your clothes while the sun sets.

“look at you. all mine. there’s no one else for miles, and i’m gonna spend the next ten hours reminding you of that.”

mornings aren’t for coffee anymore. the second you stir, he’s pulling you under him.

baekhyun loves the raw feeling of morning intimacy—the sleepiness in your voice, the tangled hair, and the way your body is already warm and soft for him.

“one more time, baby… we don’t have to go to breakfast. i’m already looking at everything i wanna eat.”

he’ll spend an hour just using his lips and tongue to explore your whole body.

he’s especially focused on your inner thighs and cunt, leaving hickeys, then immediately shifting into deep, wet kisses that make your toes curl.

baekhyun loves to hear you—his dirty talk mixed with your moans. he’ll actually stop moving if you’re too quiet, pouting until you tell him how good he feels or how much you want him.

“lemme hear you, baby. tell your husband exactly how i’m making you feel right now.”

he doesn’t just want one round. he wants to see how many times he can make you lose your mind.

he’ll let you catch your breath for five minutes, only to start tracing patterns on your inner thigh again. he’s whiny about it, too—“baby, you’re not tired yet, hmm? husband isn’t even close to being done with you.”

baekhyun’s not just using his hands; he’s using his entire body to overwhelm you.

his dirty talk is playful, possessive, and incredibly graphic. he loves to hear the contrast between his low, honey-thick voice and your breathy reactions.

he leans heavily into praise that sounds like a reward. “you’re taking me so well, baby.”

baekhyun loves to describe how you look when you’re falling apart. “look at your face... you look so wrecked. i did that to you, huh? i’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“please, baby… wrap your legs tighter. i wanna feel how much you want me. want me to go faster?”

he doesn’t stop kissing you. he’ll swallow your moans, his tongue moving with yours in the same rhythm as his hips. he wanna be connected to you at every possible point.

he’ll finish inside with a possessive growl, holding you so tight it’s hard to breathe, whispering into your ear that even when the honeymoon is over, you’re never, ever escaping him.

baekhyun loves the physical weight of it afterward. he’s the type to stay buried in you for several minutes, just breathing you in, his hands still possessively gripping your hips.

and then, he’ll whisper against your lips, “you feel so good, baby... so warm. i never wanna leave. can we just stay like this forever?”

After debating with himself for a moment, Baekhyun decided he had to at least go look, had to at least see if he could help, and he started running towards the sound of the screams. What he ended up finding was a gruesome sight. 

A young woman lay sprawled out on the concrete in a narrow alleyway, clothes torn off, covered in her own blood. The monster who’d done this to her had already taken off and Baekhyun wanted to go after him, but by the look of things, there was no time to spare. 

He crouched down next to her, looking for where the blood could be coming from, talking, trying to keep her from passing out. “You’re gonna be okay, it’s okay. He’s gone now. Can you tell me what day it is? Your name?” 

She wasn't responding to anything he said, barely even conscious. The amount of blood around her didn't look good. When he felt for a pulse, it was barely there. He turned her head, getting a good look at the side of her neck, and he saw a deep gash, blood still pouring out in a steady stream. 

Baekhyun knew then that she wouldn't make it. She'd lost so much blood already that she was turning pale, and he was surprised she was still awake at all. 

The whole time she looked up at him, the light in her eyes slowly fading away. She gathered all the strength she could, and raised one arm, just slightly, weakly grabbing the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Help me..” 

It was barely a whisper. He only had one option left. 

The smell of her blood was so unbelievably strong. He hadn't felt that kind of thirst in years, so when he heard those two words, he gave into it. 

He leaned into the side of her neck that hadn't been cut, and bit her, feeling the rush of fresh blood hitting his tongue for the first time in over a century. 

The taste was otherworldly. Thick and sweet, though he knew he couldn't take too much. After a few seconds he reluctantly pulled away, and for a moment he was afraid that he'd already been too late, or had taken too much. 

The bleeding stopped, and the life behind her eyes flickered away. Her arm fell back to the pavement, completely limp, and this time when he tried to find a pulse, there was nothing. 

She was gone, but still, he waited. 

~

You gasped, sitting up quickly, too quickly, dark splotches disrupting your vision.

With eyes squeezed shut, you took a few deep breaths before opening them again. This time, your surroundings were much clearer. 

Large windows overlooking an old growth forest. Modern architecture, equally modern, but still cozy furniture. None of that sad gray/beige minimalist shit. Tall, well stocked bookshelves, and the daybed you now sat upright upon. 

Someone’s house, no doubt, but you definitely didn’t know anyone with a place like this. 

“You're awake.” 

The voice was deep and smooth, chocolatey, almost. The man who’d produced it looked equally decadent from where he now stood in the doorway. 

Confusion, surprise, or something along those lines kept you quiet as he came closer. Once at your bedside, he took your chin in his hand, moving your head to get a good look at both sides of your throat, before letting out a sigh of relief. Both the gash and bite marks were completely gone. When he stepped back again, he showed you a soft smile. 

“I'm Baekhyun.” He said, holding out his hand. 

You weren't sure why you went with it, but reluctantly shook his hand anyway, introducing yourself before asking, “What's going on?” 

Rationally you knew that waking up in a strange man's house in the forest would be reason for fear or even panic, yet you felt nothing of the sort.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, giving you a surprisingly sympathetic look.

“Something happened to you last night. What’s the last thing you remember?”  

“Just walking home from the bar… I don't think I made it home though, and then I woke up here.” 

“You don't remember anything else?” 

You shook your head. 

His eyes met your own, a blank, unreadable expression on his face, “Someone attacked you. I heard you screaming, but by the time I got there the guy was gone, and you were bleeding out.” 

“What?” Still confused, you tried to piece it all together, and slowly, some things started to come back to you. First, that a man had started to follow you home, then how you'd begun to run away from him, but after that it all went black again.  Still, this guy had to be insane. There was just no way.

“What do you mean I was bleeding out? That makes no sense, I’m not hurt at all.” 

You sat up straighter, rolling your shoulders, moving your legs, and everything felt okay, but something was still off. 

“It's hard to explain,” he got up, “I'll be right back, I promise things will start to make more sense in just a minute.” 

When he returned to your bedside he was holding a bag, the type you'd see at a hospital, full of what looked like blood. The sight did little to remedy your confusion. 

Until he took a metal straw, and punctured it. The thirst was so immediate and so intense, it felt as if you were choking on hot sand. You didn’t think, just grabbed the bag, and drank it down, until every last drop was gone. 

You stared at the empty bag, straw still sticking out. The sweet taste of iron was unmistakable.   

Baekhyun gave you a minute, letting you come to terms with everything. When you noticed him again, he was handing you a mirror. Your eyes were a deep red, skin so pale you could almost see through it. 

“What did you do to me?” You whispered, unable to tear your eyes away from the terrifying reflection staring back at you.

He could see clearly how shocked and scared you were and sat down with you again, this time taking one of your hands in his, startling you with how cold it was. 

“You were about to die when I found you, so I changed you. My eyes look like that too.” 

You watched as he took out the colored contacts he was wearing, discarding them along with the blood bag before sitting back down at the end of the bed. His eyes were red, just like yours.

He could see how you struggled to make sense of it all, so he got up to leave again, but you stopped him, holding onto his hand and pulling him back down with you. 

“Wait- why can I see my reflection?” 

Baekhyun laughed, relieved in a way. You seemed to actually be handling it fairly well. Either that, or the weight of it all had yet to really hit you.

“The movies get a lot of stuff wrong. We can go out in the sun, too, it just hurts our skin and eyes a little more than normal. You’ll want to invest in some good sunglasses. A wooden stake through the heart doesn't work either. If you would've rather died I could get you the right poison, though.” 

You furrowed your brows, still unsure what to make of it. “No thanks…” 

He smiled, “That’s good to hear.” 

Despite the extremely off putting color, his eyes were still soft, gentle. His face overall just looked kind somehow. He was extremely attractive, without a doubt, but it was more than that. His jawline was sharp, but the rest of his features were soft, full pink lips, a round nose, and eyes that were a little downturned. Even knowing what he was, you weren’t scared of him at all. He almost looked a bit like a puppy, definitely not threatening in any way.

“So… how does this work? Am I gonna have to.. You know…” Bile rose in your throat at the mere thought, and the poison he mentioned came to mind again .

“You don’t have to kill people, no. I can help you get as much blood as you need. I’m a hematologist, so I just take what I need from the hospital.” 

You let out a sigh of relief. “A vampire blood doctor? That’s kind of perfect, actually.” 

Saying the word out loud sent a chill down your spine. It did make sense though. You felt lighter, faster, and your senses were sharper than they ever had been while human. 

“You seem to be taking all of this really well.” He laughed, “Most people freak out a whole lot more when they first get turned.” 

“I’m just glad I’m alive I guess, or at least not dead, dead, you know what I mean.” 

As he grinned back at you, you noticed the pointed tips of his canines, an interesting contrast to the rest of his features. You wondered if he had always been this beautiful, or if it was what he was that made him look so ethereal. Jet black hair, pale skin, and red eyes would make almost anyone else look plain creepy, but he pulled it off beautifully. It was a struggle not to stare. 

“Happy to help.”

His smile was magnetic, and as the minutes passed, every little thing about him drew you in. There was a sense of calm that came with his presence, comfort in his proximity. Rationally, you knew that your reaction to the entire situation should’ve been far more dramatic. But when you looked at Baekhyun, even now that you knew what he’d turned you into, and the fact that you had essentially died, his presence felt overwhelmingly positive. 

“So I have to live off of human blood now? Is that the only difference?” 

“Well, no. You won’t age anymore, and you can’t die unless you drink a specific blend of herbs. You can still eat human food, but it won’t satisfy you and you won't crave it anymore either.  Humans naturally gravitate towards us, it's supposed to help us hunt, so going out to bars could get pretty annoying. Let’s see what else.. Oh, you also won’t be sleeping anymore.” 

You took it all in, nodding as he explained it all to you. “Can I go home then? Do I just need to come back here when I get thirsty?” 

He sighed, shooting you a look of guilt mixed with sympathy. 

“No, sorry. You’ll have to stay away from living people for a few months, at least. If you were to walk around on the street right now the smell and thirst would almost definitely cause you to kill someone. Blood fresh from someone’s body is different than from a bag, the taste and smell is a lot stronger. It’ll take time and practice for you to learn to control the thirst.” 

“A few months?! Fuck.” For the first time that day, something resembling real fear, even panic, overtook you. Your family, friends, job, would all be wondering where you were. You couldn’t exactly tell them the truth, and dreaded having to come up with some kind of explanation. You were starting to realize just how much this had changed your ‘life’. 

Not only that, but this meant you had to stay in this house, with this oddly enticing stranger, for the next couple months. 

“What do I tell my friends and family? They’re going to freak out if I tell them I can't see them for so long. I don’t want to bother you, either.” You groaned. 

“I knew what I was getting myself into when I made the decision to change you, don’t  worry about me. As for your loved ones, call them, make something up, they can come here if they aren’t convinced and I can talk to them, I can be very convincing. I know it’s not ideal but I still thought it would be better than letting you die.”

You nodded, letting out a heavy sigh. Several more minutes passed as you sat in silence with all this new information, doing all you could to try and come to terms with everything. You were surprised that you did so well to fight back the tears. Baekhyun stayed by your side, which came as a welcome comfort. 

“What do you do for work?” He eventually asked, breaking the tension. 

“I'm a writer.” You told him. “I have an assignment due in a couple days, no way I'll be able to turn it in. I'm definitely getting fired.” 

You groaned, having worked your ass off for that job. As it all sunk in more and more, the tears began to eventually fall. You knew then that your life as you'd known it was over. 

“What kind of writing do you like to do?” Baekhyun was genuinely curious, but he was also hoping that his talking would distract you from the heaviness of it all. 

You let out a deep sigh, before explaining, “What I like is creative writing. I've been working on a novel for a while but haven't gotten very far with how busy I am. I work in journalism but the stories I get assigned aren't really what I want to write about. I'm lucky to have a writing job at all, though. Or at least I did.” 

“Well, what if you use this time to work on that novel? You can tell your friends and family that you found someone to sponsor an extended retreat to finish your novel, that you're staying in a cabin out in the forest to focus on your writing. You can tell them I'm your editor, they could even visit once you can comfortably be around people again.” 

“That's… actually not a bad idea. I just don’t know if I really have it in me to finish it, I know I doubt myself too much, that’s another reason I haven’t gotten more of it done so far.” 

Baekhyun beamed, “I’m sure you’ll do great, I might be able to help, too. I’m no professional writer, of course, but I love reading and could give you feedback. I've actually done that for some writers you probably know. I like to think that my advanced age has given me plenty of time to develop some semblance of good taste.”

You smiled, though weakly. As hard as it was to come to terms with everything, he did give you some hope that maybe it would all turn out alright in the end after all.

“Do you do this kind of thing a lot? You know, changing people? Being a doctor and all?” You wondered, hoping to take your mind off of your own misfortune at least for a little while. 

“No. You’re the first person I’ve changed in over a hundred years.” 

“What? Seriously? Even when you see a kid dying of leukemia or something?” 

He frowned. He could see where you were coming from, of course, but it wasn’t that simple. “I have to consider the greater good. Not every vampire can just take the blood they need from whatever type is in lowest demand in donations. If I changed people all the time without looking after them the way I am with you, even more people would end up dead.” 

“Why me then?” 

He thought for a second, contemplating the true reason, of which he still wasn’t completely sure. He gave you his best guess;

“When people die at the hospital, it’s usually the final act of a slow and painful process. Often, depending on the level of their pain, it can even come as a relief. They have all of their loved ones surrounding them, and they’ve said everything they want to say. They’re prepared to die, to whatever degree that’s possible, but you weren’t given that luxury. What happened to you was so cruel, so sudden, and honestly, the smell of your blood was very, very strong. You were dying, and asked me to help, so I did the only thing I could.”

As you listened to him, you came to realize that you weren’t wearing the clothes you’d had on the night before, but something he must’ve put on you. A wave of nausea made you hunch over further. 

“When you found me.. What had he done?” You asked, cautiously, unsure if you really wanted to know the answer.

Baekhyun had been wondering when you would start asking, and only hoped that what he knew wouldn’t jog your memory to the particularly heinous parts. 

“I can’t be sure, because he was gone by the time I got to you. But, you were on the ground in an alley with a deep gash on the left side of your throat, probably an inch deep, more than enough to kill, and you were covered in your own blood.” 

He chose to leave out the way your clothes had been torn off. 

Still, it was easy enough to connect the dots. The same man who’d followed you, who you eventually started running away from, had caught up to you and done his worst.  

Your stomach seemed to fold in on itself, a horrible, twisted ache spreading from your throat down your gut, and up through your skull. 

Baekhyun watched as tears filled your eyes, quickly spilling over into a steady stream. You tried to keep it together but it was no use, and he could see that. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to hold back so he started to get up, but you grabbed the hem on his shirt and pulled him back down. 

“Don’t leave, please.”

Your hand wound up in his, his thumb running a soothing path across your knuckles. Crimson eyes gazed back at you, filled with more empathy than those of most living people you’d met. Even after many decades as a doctor, having to be the bearer of bad news again and again, it still never got easier for him. 

He was caught off guard when you suddenly yanked on his hand, pulling him towards you and wrapping your arms around him, using him as a shoulder to cry on. 

Slowly, his arms wrapped around you as well, and he started rubbing your back. 

“It’s over now, you’re okay, he can’t hurt you anymore.” He whispered, feeling how your body continued to shake with the intensity of your sobs. 

It took a while for the initial pain to fade to something more manageable, even with him right there with you, but eventually it did. You didn’t want to think about it anymore, didn’t want to give that awful man any more control over how you felt. You were still around despite it all, and that was what mattered most. 

Baekhyun kept his eyes on you as you sat back, letting go of him and wiping the last of the tears from your damp skin. 

“Sorry about that.” You forced a short laugh. 

“No need to apologize, not at all.” 

The reassuring smile on his pretty pretty face would’ve made your cheeks warm up, had you been able to blush. 

“Do you want a tour of the house?” He asked, hoping he could offer you something to take your mind elsewhere. 

You nodded, and he helped you up out of bed, showing you room after room, and it was all so him. Comfortable, beautiful, but eerie. He undoubtedly had great taste, and it wasn’t at all the dungeon you would expect of a creature like him. Most every room was bathed in natural light, large windows everywhere, it was the forest on the other side that made it feel so otherworldly. Like something out of a dark fairy tale, though the modern design still didn’t seem out of place. 

“How far are we from the city?” You wondered. 

“A little over an hour, it’s pretty secluded out here, but I like it that way. I like being able to enjoy the view without worrying about anyone seeing me here without my contacts, or sipping on one of those blood bags. You won’t have to worry about anyone getting close enough to trigger your thirst, either.” 

“You really like the forest, I’m guessing?” 

He smiled, “Yeah, no matter how many decades go by, trees are always still just trees. It’s comforting, I suppose. They're so old, it makes me feel young by comparison. I like going on walks, too, enjoying the smell of the greenery without any humans around to stink it up.” 

You watched his profile as he gazed out of one of the many windows, enjoying the enormous moss covered trees on the other side. He seemed so comfortable here, having made the best of his situation, and you found solace in that. If he could figure it out, maybe you could too. 

Once the tour was over, you both settled into the couch in the main living area, facing another set of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the forest.

“How old are you?” You asked. 

“When I was turned, or since then?” 

“Both, I guess.” 

“I was 32 when I turned, and next year it will have been 250 years since that night.” 

“Wow.. what happened? I mean, how did you get turned?” 

‘I can’t be sure, like you I don’t have any memory of the exact moment it happened, but I remember talking to a woman who looked.. Not human, being completely enamored with her, and then I woke up like this. I guess she probably meant to have me as a meal, but got interrupted, so I turned.” 

You shot him a slightly confused look, “Do people not get turned any time they get bitten?” 

“No, our saliva acts like a venom, and the person has to die with the venom in their system to turn. Usually when feeding on someone, they're drained so completely that there isn’t anything left to turn them, especially if the person who’s drinking from them doesn’t have any self control around blood yet. When that happens, they just die. I can’t imagine that woman wanted anything more than a meal, and I never saw her again, so I can only assume she got interrupted in the middle of it.” 

“Do you still think about her a lot? About that night?”

He paused, seeming to contemplate for a bit before answering. “I used to, maybe for the first fifty years or so, but now, I’ve settled into this kind of existence and I understand that she likely didn’t have control over her thirst and was just going off of instinct, and I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“So… That means we can drink from people without killing them or turning them then, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s how I got by for a while in my earlier days, but it's hard to find someone who knows about our world, and is willing to let you do that. Eventually they get tired of it or pass on anyway, and you have to figure something else out. That’s why I just stick to the blood bags from the hospital now, even if it isn’t as satisfying.” 

You both gazed out at the enormous old trees, and you wondered, “You said you knew some writers I might’ve heard of? People that aren’t around anymore now, I assume?” 

“Yeah.. I spent a lot of time on the east coast before coming to this side of the country. In Boston, when I was first studying medicine, I met Sylvia Plath, and I do still think about her. She was really a special person, so talented, but tortured. She really left an impact on me. Getting to read some of her poems before the rest of the world felt really special. I think she was also drawn to me because she saw that there was something different about me, beyond just the superficial charm that most humans perceive in us.” 

You just stared back at him with wide eyes, your jaw almost on the floor. “You seriously knew her? What was she like?” 

The more he told you about her, the more questions you had, and you ended up losing track of time as he told you everything he could remember from his time with her. She’d had a fascination with the supernatural that you’d never known about, and Baekhyun was certain that she’d been onto him, that she knew what he was. You couldn’t remember ever being so entranced in conversation, holding onto every word and not wanting to let go. He was giving you a window into a world you never could’ve imagined, and it ignited a newfound passion for your own writing. 

He also asked about you, your life, interests, hobbies, and you told him all you could think of. All the while he looked at you intently, showing you his undivided attention, almost intimidatingly so. He asked a lot of questions, and you got the feeling he genuinely cared, that he wanted to know everything he could, that he wanted to understand you.

It had been a while since Baekhyun felt himself drawn to a woman, but he grew more fond of you the more time you spent together. He thought you were beautiful, and not only in the way that vampires naturally are. He'd thought so before you'd woken up, too. 

He'd been on his own for a long, long time and your company made him feel warm. The more you opened up, he felt something within him stir, a sense of protectiveness, wanting to do all he could to make this transition more bearable. The better he was able to understand you, your interests, your values, your fears, the better he’d be at comforting you, and hopefully make this time as painless as possible. 

When you were together, time seemed to go by quickly. You felt like you’d known him for much longer than just a day, by the time the sun started to set. Something about him felt familiar to you, like you’d known him in a past life. It felt silly to think about so soon, but you wondered if all of this had been destined to happen, that it was fate for you to meet him like this, even with how horribly it started. 

There was one more question you had for him that had been weighing on your mind all day. You weren’t sure if you should ask, a little scared of the answer you might receive, but you couldn’t fight your curiosity. 

“You don’t have to answer this, but I’ve been wondering, when you first turned, did you ever… lose control?” 

He’d been gazing at trees, the sun almost hidden behind the horizon, but at that his eyes shifted solemnly to his hands in his lap, lips turning into a frown, and he nodded ever so slightly. 

“It’s not something I like to think about.” 

“I’m sorry-” 

“No it’s okay, I understand why you’d want to know, if anything I should apologize, I can’t imagine it’s very comforting to hear that right now.” 

Finally he looked your way again, eyes swimming with concern, worried he had scared you, that you would be terrified to be around him after knowing about his past. 

You weren’t scared though, for whatever reason. It didn’t quite make sense to you either. 

“It wasn’t your fault, I mean, you didn’t have anyone to help you, like how you’re helping me. I can’t even imagine how awful and confusing that must’ve been.” 

“That's a very generous thing to say.” 

A comfortable silence filled the room. Still, you felt yourself being drawn to him, wanting to touch him, though you weren’t sure where the line was, what was appropriate with him. You found yourself leaning into him anyway, resting your head on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you, it brought a smile to his face. 

Baekhyun knew why you’d trusted him so quickly, why you were so inclined to try and touch him, even if not in a sexual way thus far. It was a side effect he’d heard of but never experienced first hand, you being the first woman he’d ever changed. What he wasn’t sure of was how severe it would soon become. 

When the sun was fully set, Baekhyun invited you to have ‘dinner’ with him, and told you he wanted to try something. 

Holding up a wine glass, he told you, “I’m going to fill this with blood, and I want you to try to sip it, or at least not down it all in one go, alright?” 

You nodded, and he left the room, returning with two glasses full of the thick red liquid, the smell of it entering the room before you could see him. 

When he set one down in front of you, it took all of your willpower to keep from grabbing it and immediately gulping down the entire thing. He took a seat, holding his own glass in the air, and you picked up your own, clinked them together, shaking slightly as you slowly brought it to your lips. As soon as it hit your tongue you couldn’t help but start chugging it down, however Baekhyun’s voice reminding you to slow down snapped you out of it, and to your surprise, you were able to set it back down on the table, a little less than half still in the glass. 

He was beaming, impressed by your restraint, even this early on. “You’re doing great! That’s really impressive for your first day.” 

Hearing him praise you sent a wave of emotion coursing through you, you wanted to please him, wanted him to like you, the same way you were starting to like him. 

As time went on you settled into your new life. Writing, getting used to not sleeping, practicing restraint whenever you’d feed, and spending time with him filled your days and nights. What you couldn’t get used to, was how much you were starting to want him.

Every day, every hour, it seemed, you grew more desperate for his touch. Mental images of his hands and lips on your body rudely intruded your every thought. Most days followed a similar routine, with him going to work, coming home after what felt like far too long, and having ‘dinner’ together, so it was easy to sense how quickly your feelings for him were growing. 

And how could you not want him? He was nothing short of perfect. Around the house he usually wore a black silk robe, letting you see the strong outlines of his shoulders and chest. Whenever his back was turned, you would stare at his silhouette, his narrow waist and strong thighs, leading up to his back, which looked particularly inviting. The desire to wrap your arms around him, pressing kisses to the nape of his neck, was near constant. Every time you were around him now, the tension felt so thick, almost tangible. 

While he’d be at work, you would only think about him, wanting him to come back to you as quickly as possible. He’d gotten you plenty of stuff to keep you occupied, to work on your hobbies, and your novel, but those were soon neglected. Instead you’d touch yourself for hours, but it still didn’t help. Even if you couldn’t be with him the way you craved, the closeness was still preferable to the emptiness you felt in his absence. 

When he finally would get back, you’d spend all night with him, talking, or just watching something or reading together. Your heightened senses made it all so much more unbearable, too. Any time his cold skin would brush against yours even slightly it would cause you to gasp and press your thighs together. 

However Baekhyun seemed blissfully, if not deliberately, unaware of it all. 

In a feeble attempt to get his attention on you, and your body, more specifically, you often wore less than necessary. He’d gotten you lots of different clothes to wear, but you always opted for the shortest, lowest cut options. Occasionally you thought you caught him looking, but if he really did, his poker face was immaculate. You wanted, needed, anything, just the slightest bit of a hint that he might see you the same way, or at least find you appealing, sexually. But he seemed entirely indifferent, much to your disappointment. 

As much as you wanted to get back into the world, to your family, and friends, the thought of leaving his home with no idea when you’d be back, and never once having been touched by him, made you want to cry. He’d become such an important figure in your life, you couldn’t just go and act like that was okay. But those thoughts were pushed down and away, still holding onto the hope that he would come around. 

It felt entirely inconceivable, for you to leave him, to not be with him, to not be his. He simply had to come around, or there would be a part of you, that you knew would be torn apart.

The sun is streaming through the curtains when you wake. 

You turn, your eyes still closed, your arm brushing against something warm and firm. You open your eyes to see Baekhyun’s sleeping form, turned towards you. His eyelashes fan delicately across his cheeks, the rise and fall of his chest steady and soothing. 

It feels like a dream. Last night, exhaustion had settled into your bones, your energy seeping away into the warmth of the bathwater. You could hardly finish getting unready, gently rejecting Baekhyun’s offers to carry you to bed. You fought to stay awake while he showered, but eventually the clutches of sleep won out and you found yourself drifting away before he returned.

So, you hadn’t gotten to see him like this, sleeping peacefully. Sleep makes his face look even softer, even younger. You didn’t think that Baekhyun carried the evidence of stress in his face, but here, those faint hints are completely gone. You scoot closer, trying to gain more of his warmth without waking him. 

Despite your best efforts, he stirs, throwing an arm around you, half-unconscious. You press your body against his, your head tucked into his chest.

“Morning,” he mumbles. His voice is thick and raspy with sleep. It’s much too endearing and arousing all at once. “You passed out last night.”

“Sorry,” you say softly. “We had quite a night.”

He laughs sleepily. “We did. Did you know that you scrunch your nose in your sleep?”

“No, I did not. Now I’ll be thinking about that every time I go to sleep.”

“Don’t.” He yawns, turning closer into your warmth. “It’s cute.”

The new angle that Baekhyun’s turned his body into has made you acutely aware of… something pressing against your thigh. You move your leg against him to test what you think it is and he shivers. “Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly. “It’ll go away soon.”

“What if I don’t want it to?”

Baekhyun opens his eyes for the first time, blearily peering at you with growing interest. “Hm?”

You pull the covers back just enough for you to wriggle your way underneath, sliding down until you’re faced with his tented boxers. You pull them down, Baekhyun exhaling heavily.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says, sleep still clinging to the edges of his voice. 

“I want to.” You gently lick a stripe up from the base of his not fully hard cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip. The salty tang of his precum hits your tongue just as he shudders. 

You feel the sheets above you being pulled away, releasing you from their confines. Baekhyun watches you, propped up on his elbows, his hair still sticking up and eyes still soft from sleep. “If you’re gonna do that,” he says, “I want to watch.”

You take his now fully erect cock in one hand and wrap your lips around the tip, maintaining eye contact as you sink down onto it ever so slowly. His breathing deepens as you bottom out, hitting the back of your throat. Saliva pools on your tongue, gathering in your mouth as you pull back up, keeping up your torturously slow pace.

Baekhyun swallows, his lips parting when you continue to bob your head up and down, the muscles in his jaw tightening. You notice that his hands start to mess with the sheets beneath him, fidgeting with the cloth. A groan rumbles from deep within his chest when you dip your tongue into the slit, the extra spit gathered in your mouth dribbling down the sides of his member.

“You’re being a tease,” he laughs breathlessly. 

“Was it obvious?” You grin and sink down onto him once more, hollowing your cheeks. You position yourself so that you’re on your knees, arching your back slightly so that your ass is on display. 

Baekhyun bites back a moan, knuckles turning white as he grips the sheets. “You little minx,” he mumbles. “Sometimes I just wanna—”

“Wanna what?” 

His expression clouds for a brief second, seemingly at war with his thoughts. Then, slowly, he reaches his hand out and settles it on the top of your head. Not applying any pressure, not pushing. Waiting. 

“You remember the colors?”

You nod. Eager.

“Color?”

“Green,” you whisper. 

“Get on the floor.” His voice is low, commanding, just barely fraying at the edges as his control starts to slip. You follow him off the bed, sinking to your knees on the carpet, opening your mouth wide. Your tongue lolls out and he groans, putting both hands on the back of your head. “Tap my thigh if you need a breather,” he grunts, before pushing the fat head of his cock into your mouth.

He’s gentle at first, only thrusting shallowly onto your tongue. You focus on breathing through your nose and hollowing your cheeks, trying to get used to the sensation of him controlling the pace down your throat.

He pushes in further than before and your throat restricts, gagging around him. “Look up here,” he says. You blink up at him tearily and his pace stutters. “God, you’re so pretty.” 

You feel wetness pooling beneath your thighs and you shift restlessly, trying to somehow ease the ache and need. “You wanna touch yourself? Go ahead, you’re being so good for me.” Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties and you circle your clit, still slightly aching and sensitive from last night. Choked moans sound each time the tip of his cock brushes against the back of your throat, spit slipping from the corners of your mouth down to your tits.

It doesn’t take long until you feel Baekhyun’s fingers twitching in your hair, his hips rolling into your mouth with a little less precision, a little less control. His jaw tightens as he mutters, “I’m gonna cum. You want it?”

You nod, hollowing your cheeks even more, pressing the flat of your tongue on the underside of his cock as best as you can. In a couple of thrusts, he’s spilling down your throat, so far down that you can barely taste him. You cough when he pulls out, immediately leaning into his touch when he cups your jaw.

“Okay?” 

“Yes,” you whisper. Your throat is going to be sore in a bit, and your insides feel a little bit like jelly, but you are good. 

He smiles, pulling you up to your feet and back onto the bed. “Let me thank you properly,” he says, before parting your thighs. Your head hits the sheets as he descends onto you, his tongue taking you back to ecstasy in no time.

You quickly learn that the Strip is crowded.

Baekhyun’s hand holds fast onto yours, guiding you gently through the neverending sea of people. The other tourists around you have a tendency to just stop directly in place in order to capture the perfect picture, no matter how many people’s paths get interrupted by the abrupt halt. You nearly bump into several of these people, and would have if not for the firm guidance of Baekhyun’s grasp.

“Picture?” he asks, having the decency of course to pull you out of the way of the flow of the foot traffic. He points at the view behind you: the Eiffel Tower of Paris Las Vegas overlooks the water, providing a picturesque backdrop.

You shuffle awkwardly. “I don’t really know how to pose,” you admit.

“It’s easy, I’ll help you.”

He takes out his phone and tells you exactly where to stand, telling you how to place your arms and your legs, exactly how to brush through your hair. He grins at the view of you in his phone camera. “Beautiful!” he calls out, snapping a couple of pics from different angles. 

It’s equally endearing and embarrassing, but you find your comfort level growing the longer that he takes photos, fielding compliments your way. You switch places, and he immediately poses in the most flattering ways, cycling between smiley, cute poses and more elevated ones with ease. He’s so handsome sometimes that it’s annoying. He definitely could have been a model in another lifetime.

“Do you two want a picture together?”

You turn and see a young woman with a bright smile standing behind you. “Sure, yes please!” you say, mirroring her grin. You hand her the phone and walk up to join Baekhyun.

“Can you take a few?” he calls out.

“Of course!”

Baekhyun wraps his arm around your shoulders and you wrap yours around his waist, smiling at the camera. You take a few like this, and then feel Baekhyun’s lips in your hair. You look up at him in shock and he grins at you before bending down and placing a kiss against your lips. 

“Cute!” the woman says. You feel your cheeks burning, and you turn back to look at the view while Baekhyun goes to retrieve your phone, trying to compose yourself for a moment. The interaction was so domestic, so loving, but most of all it was so easy. For a second your heart squeezes in your chest, hammering against your rib cage. It’s such a stark difference from the way you were just days before, when the only public displays of affection he would allow himself to commit would be holding your hand. 

“Okay?” Baekhyun asks, rejoining your side. His hand slips back into your grasp easily, fingers intertwining. 

You squeeze reassuringly. “All good.”

You spend the day exploring, walking through the different hotels and marveling at just how distinct they are: from the glossy, shiny marble of Caesar’s Palace, to the beautiful fountains at the Bellagio, to the pink-tinged, lively vibe of the Cosmo. The two of you take more pictures, taking small breaks at each hotel to do a bit of people-watching. Eventually, you fully stop for a break to have a late lunch at Din Tai Fung, joining the queue as neither of you had made a reservation. As you wait, you watch the people occupying the slots nearest you with mild interest. 

“Do you want to gamble?” Baekhyun asks, following your gaze.

“Maybe,” you hum. Grinning, you turn to him. “I mean, it’s all rigged, right? Even so, a small part of my brain is wondering if I maybe could win something.”

Baekhyun shrugs, smiling softly. “With your luck? Most likely.”

You have no idea how lucky I am, you think, watching him as he runs a hand through his hair. “I think we can keep walking around or do other things and maybe try it after dinner.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Sure. You wanna play Blackjack?”

You hum. The slots seem easier to understand, but the thought of sitting at a machine for hours doesn’t sound all too appealing to you. “I’ve never played. Is it complicated?”

“Not at all.” He nods when the hostess calls his name, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back to lead you to the table. “I’ll teach you.” 

The casino is noisy at night. People dressed in partywear flit through the walkways, all in various states of inebriation, calling out to their friends to wait up for them, or to get a move on. It’s a stark contrast from the quiet of your hotel room where you had retreated for the late afternoon to rest your feet, and the upscale vibe at dinner where you had some absolutely incredible seafood. This is chaos. Bright lights, dinging and bells from the slots sounding every few seconds, noisy people at every turn.

As if sensing your overwhelm, Baekhyun hooks his arm around yours and keeps you close. He looks good in anything, if spending the day beside him in his casual clothes was sufficient proof, but he looks especially handsome right now in his all-black dinner wear. He leads you to the Blackjack section, which is blessedly significantly quieter and darker than the rest of the casino.

“So you want as close to 21 without going over,” you say to him quietly. 

“Yep,” he says, smiling. “Just use your best judgement, trust your gut.”

You go to an empty table and you slide into the chair next to Baekhyun, a little unsure but trying to not let it show on your face. He pulls out some cash and splits it in half, putting it into two stacks on the table, one in front of you and one in front of himself. 

The dealer takes the cash and replaces it with chips, dealing cards to Baekhyun first. He gets a four and a five, while the dealer gets a seven. He taps the table to signal a hit and gets a ten, then waves his hand over his cards to signal a stand. The dealer flips his second card to reveal a six, then a Queen, then reaches into the suitcase to give Baekhyun a chip. 

“Lucky start,” he grins. 

The dealer turns to you next, dealing you a six and a five, while he gets a King. You glance at Baekhyun who gives you an encouraging nod. You tap the table, and the dealer gives you a ten. 

A perfect 21.

“Hell yeah!” Baekhyun laughs with glee as you wave your hands above your cards. The dealer gives a small smile at his outburst as he gives you a chip to match your bet. 

You play for a while. You’re up for a little bit, then down, but then back up. Baekhyun isn’t so lucky, and slowly makes a dent through his pile of chips until he’s down to about half of his original stack. He strikes up a conversation with the dealer, who’s pleasant and kind if not a little bit shy. You seem to be in your own little bubble for a while until you feel a tap on your shoulder.

You turn to see a man about your age, if not a few years older, who clearly looks a little bit drunk.. “Hey, pretty,” the man says. “Why you gambling all by yourself?”

Your eyebrows furrow and you frown. Baekhyun clears his throat. “She’s with me.”

The man stares at the two of you for a few moments, but it isn’t until you slide your hand over Baekhyun’s knee that he finally gets the message. “Damn, my bad,” he says, putting his hands up and walking away. 

“Are you okay, miss?” the dealer asks when you turn your attention back to the table.

You sigh loudly and then smile at him. “Yes, thank you.” You pick up a chip with your free hand and make another bet, your other still planted firmly onto Baekhyun’s knee. 

His demeanor has shifted, not as easygoing anymore. You can see it in the tension in his neck, the way he’s slightly clenching his jaw. You feel a twinge of guilt. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why that man didn’t think the two of you were together. 

“Baek, it’s okay,” you say quietly. 

He tenses up even more, but then deflates and sighs. “I know.” He says it without meeting your eyes. 

You rub your thumb over his knee absentmindedly as you think, glancing behind your shoulder. You startle when you realize the guy is still there, talking to a friend while shooting glances back at your way. Anger and annoyance flicker in your gut. Keep moving, dick. He catches your eye and winks.

Repulsed, you turn your attention back to the table, an idea forming in your head. If he wasn’t going to take your relationship with Baekhyun seriously… well, then, you would make it impossible to ignore. It could end up badly. It could piss Baekhyun off, or the guy could just leave before you have the chance to really pull it off, or it could get the two of you kicked out of the Blackjack room. But hey, what's Vegas without a little gambling?

It's risky, but with the way that you’re sitting, it’s impossible for the dealer to see that you’ve begun moving your hand slowly up Baekhyun’s thigh. His leg tenses underneath you, sucking in a breath through his nose so quietly that only you can hear it. He continues to play his hand, tapping the table to hit once again. Bust. 

You play out your turn as if nothing were going on, as if your hand was not now settling in Baekhyun’s lap, brushing your knuckles lightly over the growing tent in his pants. He coughs into his fist, looking away. You hit, getting yet another perfect 21. 

“Excuse me,” the dealer says, “I need to get more chips.” As soon as he leaves the table, Baekhyun whirls towards you.

“What are you doing?” he hisses.

You shrug, feigning ignorance. “Nothing.”

He startles when you squeeze, palming at his clothed cock. “If you keep going like this you’re going to regret it.”

The darkness in his tone makes you shiver. Finally, what the two of you have been dancing around this entire time. The depth of Baekhyun’s desires, what he’s wanted to do to you so badly that he held himself back from just touching you for a full year. The images flitting through your imagination immediately makes you wet, rubbing your thighs together subtly. It only makes you want to push his buttons more. “Is that a promise?”

Baekhyun’s nostrils flare and he grabs your wrist, putting your hand into your own lap when the dealer returns. He flashes an easy smile at him. “Actually, we’re going to go now,” Baekhyun says. He takes a couple of chips from his pile and slides them across the table. “These are for you.”

“Oh thank you, sir!” he says. He cashes out your chips and hands the stack of cash back to Baekhyun before turning to you. “And thank you too, miss.”

“Thanks for playing with us,” you reply. You’re not as good at hiding the shakiness in your voice as Baekhyun is. When you stand, Baekhyun tightens his jacket around himself, the perfect length to hide the front of his pants. You pass by the man as you leave the Blackjack station, seething. You merely give him a polite nod.

You wordlessly find your way to the elevators, Baekhyun stewing silently beside you. As soon as the metal doors slide shut, he pushes your back against the wall, lips descending onto yours. He captures your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. Your knees threaten to buckle underneath you, your hands flying to the nape of his neck to steady yourself. 

“What the fuck was that,” he mutters against your mouth. “Everyone could have seen.”

“I wanted them to,” you pant, throwing your head back as he attacks your neck, sucking bruises into your skin. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the elevator mirror, cheeks flushed, pinned between the wall and his body. The image makes your blood run hot. “Let them see.”

The elevator stops on your floor and he all but tugs you toward your room, fumbling with the room key. As soon as you’re inside, he throws his jacket onto the floor, holding you in his arms as he walks you backwards towards the bed.

“You want this?” he asks, hushed. “You want me to make you regret it?”

You swallow, burying your fingers in his hair. It feels something like the point of no return, but you can’t lie: You’re absolutely dizzy with anticipation.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“If I sense that it’s too much for you, I will stop it.” His voice is low, serious. You’ve never heard him like this before. “If you don’t respond if I ask for a color, I’ll stop. If I feel like you’re lying, I’ll stop. You won’t disappoint me, and I won’t be mad. The only way you’ll make me feel bad is if I hurt you and I don’t do anything to stop it.” His fingers come up to brush against your cheek and he steps forward, forcing you to take a step back again, and again, until the back of your knees hits the bed. “Do you understand?”

You swallow. “I do.” Your voice sounds small, all your bravado from the casino long gone. Your blood thrums in anticipation, buzzing like electricity underneath your skin. 

He makes quick work of your clothes, stripping you bare and laying you down onto the bed. Two fingers run up and down your folds shallowly, just barely dipping in, feeling your wetness. You swallow, your breathing quickening with each passing minute, your patience growing incredibly thin.

You wriggle your hips experimentally and Baekhyun immediately ceases his motion, leaning down to kiss you instead. You whine against his lips and he responds with a light pinch on your inner thigh.

“Where are your manners?” he murmurs softly. 

You have half a mind to retort back, make some smart-ass comment that will piss him off further, but what comes out instead is a stuttered, “I-I’m sorry.”

He pulls back and smiles at you, and your insides feel all fuzzy at that, preening at his approval. “Good,” he responds. His hand returns to your slick entrance, slipping two fingers inside.

He goes slowly, taking the time to explore your pussy, the pads of his fingers rubbing against your gummy walls. It’s agonizingly slow, but you don’t dare make another comment, instead throwing your head back against the pillows. His thumb brushes lightly against your clit, just enough to send a spark running up your spine. 

“I didn’t think you had it in you to be a brat,” Baekhyun says, curling his fingers inside of you. “You’re always so polite.”

“Polite?” you breathe, arching into the touch. “What do you mean?”

He hums, pressing onto your clit once more. “It’s always please and thank you. You never ask for more, you never tell me when you’re displeased.”

You laugh breathlessly. “Because you always give me what I want, Baek. I’ve never had to ask quite like this.”

Something inside of him flips, eyes darkening, nostrils flaring slightly. He looks up at you through his lashes and cocks his head. “Oh?” He angles his hand so that the heel of his palm is grinding against your clit, applying stimulation while continuing to crook his fingers inside of you. You whimper, thighs twitching under his touch. “So you’re saying I’ve spoiled you?”

“Mhmm, oh God.” He begins to thrust his fingers inside of you rapidly, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Baekhyun leans in close, lips tracing the shell of your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. “All the clothes, and the gifts, this trip,” he whispers, “Anything you could ever want, I just give it to you? That how you like it?”

“Yes,” you pant, hips chasing the friction. You feel yourself teetering on the edge, spurred on by the low murmur of his voice in your ear. “Baek, I’m close—”

“You want it, baby?” His tone is low, dangerous, dripping with a silky sweetness that conceals something dirtier. “You want to cum?”

You nod desperately, grabbing onto his arm. “Please, please—”

He retreats, withdrawing his hand at the speed of light, so quickly that your body doesn’t even realize that it’s gone at first. And then, the frustration, the emptiness, your pussy clenching around nothing. You cry out, screwing your eyes shut. 

“I’ve spoiled you too much, I think,” Baekhyun hums, tucking your hair behind your ear casually as if he hasn’t just left you on the cliff of your orgasm.

“No, no, please.” A frantic, distraught need fills your chest as you cling to him, your nails digging into his bicep. “I-I’m sorry, I’ll be good.”

Baekhyun undoes the top buttons of his dress shirt, revealing more and more of his chest as he goes. You immediately spring into action, sitting up to undo his belt, his erection painfully obvious even through his slacks. He pushes open his shirt fully, the silk falling down his back, and you lean in to press a kiss to his sternum, looking up with eyes that you hope convey the depth of your need for him. 

He groans, letting you pull his belt off and his slacks down. “You’re so pretty. So gorgeous when you’re desperate for me.”

You whine, no longer in the mood to play the brat part. You need him. Now. You slip your hand under his boxers and jerk him off slowly, rubbing your thumb through the precum leaking at his tip.

“Please,” you beg. “Fuck me, please.”

Baekhyun pulls you off of him and positions you on your elbows and knees, fully discarding his clothing. You wait with bated breath as he pulls your cheeks apart, completely exposing yourself to him. Your face blooms with heat, squeaking when you feel something cold and wet dropping onto your hole. 

“You’re already a mess and I’ve barely done anything,” he chuckles, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds, the glob of his spit mixing with your juices. 

“Baekhyun—” You moan brokenly, trying to push yourself back onto him but he holds you in place. “I can’t take it anymore, fuck, please.”

He slides into you with one slick motion, stilling his hips against the curve of your ass. His fingers press down between your shoulderblades, pressing you down into the mattress. You just barely have enough time to move your head to one side to be able to breathe before he pulls your wrists behind you, holding them with one hand. The other smacks your ass. Hard. 

“Fuck!” You don’t recognize your own voice, high and reedy. He does it again, and again, eliciting a squeal each time. You wriggle in his hold, but his grasp around your wrists keeps you in place, each movement you make calling attention to the fact that he’s buried deep inside of you, clenching around his throbbing cock. 

“Why was my sweet girl acting so slutty downstairs, hm?” Baekhyun coos. Smack. “You needed everyone to know that you belong to me?”

“Y-Yes,” you whimper. “And I— I wanted to tease you.”

“Why did you want to tease me, baby?”

The truth tumbles out of your mouth. You don’t even get a chance to stop it. “So you’d fuck me like this.”

Baekhyun laughs, letting go of your wrists and planting both hands on either side of your hips. “Oh yeah? Like this?” The first thrust feels like it’s reaching the deepest parts inside of you, your eyes immediately fluttering shut. He keeps up a ruthless pace, snapping his hips brutally against yours. His hand finds its way onto the back of your head, pushing you into the covers. 

“Mmm, yes, fuck, just like that!” You grab at the sheets, trying to lift yourself up the tiniest fraction, but it’s hard to get any leverage with the way that he’s pounding into you. You settle for arching your back even more, giving in to the delicious friction.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he grunts. His fingers are digging into your hips, angry red marks blooming onto your skin, hard enough to bruise. “Who made you feel like this, hm?”

“Y-You did.”

“Louder.”

You shiver, a loud moan tearing from your throat of its own volition. “You did, Baekhyun!” Your head is spinning, overwhelmed by the totality of his attention. 

“Can’t hear you,” he taunts, reaching under to grab at your tits, pinching your nipple until you cry out. “Who did?”

“F-Fuck, you, Baekhyun!” you scream.

He stops suddenly, allowing you some reprieve from the brutal pace. He pulls out halfway, his grip on you loosening. “You wanna cum? Fucking earn it.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows and roll your hips back, fucking yourself open onto his cock. Looking back at him over your shoulder, you’re greeted by the image of his devouring gaze, watching himself slip inside of you over and over again. Awestruck, hungry. His eyes flick up to meet yours and he leans forward, cupping your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks slightly. He tilts your chin up even further towards him.

“Good girl,” he groans, slipping his thumb into your mouth. He laughs under his breath when he feels your walls fluttering around him at the name. “You like that.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement.

You quicken the pace, throwing yourself back onto him. He moans, pushing his thumb further past your lips, your eyes widening the more that the pressure in your core grows, tears wobbling in your vision. “Don’t look at me like that,” he growls. “Don’t look at me like you’re so innocent.” He lets you go and regains control of your body, pushing into you with both hands planted back on the sides of your hips. 

You cry out, burying your face into the covers once again, your mouth open in a steady stream of noise. You’re half aware that you’re drooling out of the corner of your lips, a wet trail of your spit down your chin where Baekhyun had pulled out his thumb. But you don’t give a fuck, can’t care when his cock is entering you so perfectly, the crescendo of your orgasm getting closer and closer.

“I need to cum,” you cry, tilting your head to the side so that he can hear you better. “It’s too much.”

“Ask nicely, princess.” Suddenly, your upper half is hoisted into the air as Baekhyun grabs both of your wrists and pulls them back towards him, pulling your body taut. You can hardly hold yourself up, your head slouching forward as your body jerks with each of his strong thrusts.

“Please,” you whine. “Please, please, please, can I cum?”

“Do it. Now.”

When it hits, it feels like the Earth has ceased to spin, stuttering on its axis, tilting your entire world off-kilter. It ripples through you like white-hot fire throughout your entire body. You choke on his name, unable to hide from him in this position, to cover your mouth or grab onto the sheets to ground yourself. You’re forced to show him exactly how good it feels, shaking in his hold.

Gently, he sets you back down. He pulls out of you and reaches over to grab a pillow, positioning it underneath your hips. The instant you lay on top of it, he enters you once more, covering your body completely. He begins to move, a slow, deep, torturous grind against you, and you immediately drop your face into the covers, swearing breathlessly. In this position, he feels so deep you swear to God you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Your walls are much too sensitive, fluttering around his thick cock, your body still shuddering through the aftershocks.

Baekhyun’s hand wraps around your neck, pulling your head up without applying any significant pressure. He kisses the back of your head, your temple, the shell of your ear, entirely too tender for the way he’s destroying you. 

“Color?” he murmurs, flexing his fingers against your throat experimentally. You moan at the realization of what he’s about to do.

“Green,” you whimper. “Green, green, green.”

He chuckles before squeezing ever so slightly, testing the waters. You raise your hips back into him, trying to fuck yourself onto him despite your sensitivity only to find yourself trapped between the pillow and the hard, lean plane of his body. 

He squeezes even more, shifting his body so that he’s hitting you at an entirely new angle. You whine, taking a shuddering breath on instinct but finding your airway restricted. You feel dizzy with a new kind of pleasure that you’ve never felt before, one that takes over your body from the inside out, one that makes you kick your feet uselessly underneath him because of how overwhelming it is. You feel almost high off of it, floating in absolute bliss. 

“My good girl,” Baekhyun whispers, kissing your temple. “So pretty, so eager to please.”

You let out a choked sob, nodding frantically, trying to take everything that he’s giving you. His cock feels like it’s hitting every part of you, stretching you out deliciously. You don’t even realize how close you’ve been to cumming until he releases his grip on your throat. You inhale desperately, and as the air fills your lungs your orgasm ripples through you, turning your mind into static as you scream. You feel the tears streaming down your face before you hear the whimpering cries coming from your own throat.

Baekhyun rolls you onto your back and you see a hint of him return, the crease in his eyebrows starting to form. “Color?”

“Yellow,” you pant. “Keep going, but slower.”

He smiles fondly, kissing you sweetly before traveling down your body, sucking bruises into your sweat-damp skin. He reaches your soaked and sensitive pussy and settles between your thighs.

“I’ll be nice, angel,” he whispers reverently, kissing your thigh. “Promise.”

And he keeps it. He takes care not to overwhelm you too much, feather-light kisses all over your entrance. He’s not so much eating you out as he is making out with your pussy, plush lips brushing against your folds with meticulous care, pausing when you lurch at a touch that’s too much. It’s enough to keep arousal pulsing through your veins, but soft enough for you to catch your breath for a second. Your head still feels a bit like it’s spinning, but the overwhelming high has settled a little into a light, foggy haze.

“I’m ready,” you whisper, carding your fingers through his hair. “Fuck me. Please”

Baekhyun’s hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat. He bends you in half, caging your face in with his arms, entering your sensitive, puffy walls once more. His lips capture yours in a deep kiss and he grinds into you, hitting your g-spot dead on.

“F-Fuck.” You tremble, shuddering, splintering underneath him, babbling a mix of his name and wanton moans. You can’t even begin to think about anything else, just the insistent pressure of his cock inside of you and his quiet groans. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking him against you, meeting his gaze. Slowly, you give him a tired, blissed-out smile.

And fuck he almost loses it right there. You’re a wreck. Your eyes are glossy, glazed over, mascara running down your cheeks, lips dark and swollen. But you’re so beautiful. So sweet. And you’re his. His to ruin, to mark, to put back together again, to—

“I’m yours,” you whimper, lost in the haze of your pleasure. He doesn’t even think you know that you’ve said it. “Yours, Baek.”

He moans, and that’s all the warning you get before he suddenly ups the pace, pounding into you. It’s sudden, and your body doesn’t know how to keep up with the instant change. You’re on the edge again, walls fluttering, the incoming rush clawing its way out of you.“I’m gonna cum again,” you wail, eyes screwing shut. Your nails rake down his back, leaving trails of red in their wake. Your orgasm hits like a clap of thunder and you cling to him, tucking your chin to your chest as you shake. You can’t even stop the words from falling out of your mouth. “Cumming again, Daddy, fuck—”

Baekhyun’s hips stutter, dark eyes flitting down to yours in surprise. “Shit.” He groans, a deep noise that sounds like it’s been punched out of him. “What did you just—”

“Daddy, please,” you whimper, voice breaking. You look up at him through teary eyelashes, pleasure fogging your brain. “Cum for me.”

“Holy— fuck.” Baekhyun thrusts shallowly a few times before pulling out, jerking himself off with a loud groan. His cum paints your stomach and your tits, the warm droplets hitting your skin. His chest heaves, breathing raggedly as he drags his fingers through the mess, slipping his fingers past your lips to make you taste him. You do so greedily, sucking on his fingers as if they were his cock, the salty taste on your tongue. He exhales, giving you a tired smile, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip. 

Slowly, you come back to Earth.

Baekhyun cleans you quickly, wiping up the mess with the tissues from the nightstand. You watch quietly, wordlessly, before you swallow. 

“Baek?”

He looks up at you, pausing his actions. “Yes, baby?”

You don’t know where it’s coming from, this vulnerability. As the adrenaline and endorphins leave your body, it’s replaced by an emotional, messy feeling. Your voice wobbles as you ask, “Was I good?”

Baekhyun melts. He throws the tissues away and scoops you into his arms, laying down with you on his chest. “Oh, angel, you were perfect,” he murmurs. He kisses your temple, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. “You were so, so good for me. You’re my perfect girl.”

“Are you mad at me for earlier?”

“No, princess.” He brushes his fingers through your hair and smiles at you fondly. “If I was actually mad at you, I wouldn’t have been turned on, okay? I would have made that very, very clear.”

“Okay,” you whimper, then laugh self-consciously at yourself. “Sorry, I don’t know why I— I don’t know why I feel like this.”

“It’s normal,” he says quietly. “What we did was intense and now you’re adjusting back. But I’ve got you. I’ll do anything you need. Do you want me to get you some clothes?”

You nod, and he kisses you on the top of your head before he leaves your side to dig in your suitcase for some pajamas. “Wait no,” you say suddenly. “I want yours.”

Baekhyun laughs softly, then pivots to grab one of your pairs of panties and one of his old t-shirts, grabbing a pair of boxers for himself. He helps you dress, your limbs still feeling a bit sensitive and awkward. 

“Anything else I can do for you now?” he asks.

Your voice breaks as you hold your arms out. “C’mere.”

Later, he’ll run you a bath and order ice cream through room service, and you’ll find a late-night cartoon that will play in the background until you both drift off to sleep. But for now, he climbs under the covers with you and holds you close, kissing you tenderly like you’re the most precious thing in the entire world. 

part four (final) ->

taglist: @kkurubae @lovecomesbaek @yjwpout @iywxzo @xsooahx @lysslovers @exokateblr @raspage @littleflowercrown13 @10hrs26mn @raquelle00— please let me know if you'd like to be added!

if you were to rate baekhyun against all your other friends when it came to smoking and chilling, he most definitely was your favorite. maybe you were a bit biased, because ever since you broke up with your previous boyfriend, the lines of your friendship with baekhyun have blurred completely. it all started with a few handsy hugs the day you two met after an exhausting break up, and before you knew it, you'd developed a light, freeing, unlabeled relationship with a guy that understood you way more than you realized.

you digressed, since you haven't had this much fun in a while, and your boyfriend never really liked smoking with you, so having sex while being high was completely out of the picture. but with baekhyun on the other hand? the guy was a stoner. and you thought that in the most flattering way.

you giggled when his left hand slipped down your body to grab your ass through your clothes, his lips separating from yours to take another drag from the joint, grinning mischievously.

"gimme." you said, hands caressing both of his cheeks before he parted his lips to blow the smoke into your mouth. you inhaled it with a hum, kissing him again, helping with his pants since his hand was busy with the blunt. he breathed out in arousal, letting his spit drop into your mouth with a grin when you instantly swallowed it.

baekhyun groaned when you cupped him tightly through his boxers, his already hard cock jumping out when you pulled the clothing down to his thighs. you ground against him, taking a drag yourself of the same joint.

the smoke burned through your lungs in that delicious, familiar manner that made you relax, and at the same time want to fuck. baekhyun pulled your leggings down, hissing when he felt your wetness.

as much as you two explored each other's bodies through touching and making out, there were some things that baekhyun wanted to try with you. who was he kidding, he wanted to do everything with you. he couldn't even picture not being obsessed with you. your sounds and your body when it trembled because of his fingers or his cock.

"babe..." he whispered in your neck, watching you unfold lazily with his digits languidly circling your heat. "as much as i wanna get on with fucking you, there's something i've been wanting to do for a while."

you lean back on his lap to look at his face, gasping when he rolled your bodies. you glared at him when you almost dropped the joint on the couch, but his stare at you made your protests die before even coming out. "what is it?" you murmured, taking another drag.

he smiled, kissing down your body, stopping just before your center, which made you freeze. "wait, what are you doing?" you asked, a little surprised.

"what does it look like i'm doing? i wanna eat you out." he shrugged pushing your panties aside to tease your folds, groaning again when feeling your slick. "been thinking about it for so fucking long, too."

you shivered, swallowing dry when you thought about it. your previous sexual experiences with your last boyfriend already felt underwhelming compared to the tension you shared with baekhyun, but thinking about it, letting him go down on you made you feel vulnerable. you could already picture it feeling weird, and maybe not satisfying at all.

"you're hesitating about something. tell me." baekhyun stopped, tilting his head to read your cues. "you don't want me to go further, angel?"

you widened your eyes, your overthinking fading to hold his hand on your inner thigh. "n-no, i want this. i do, it's just—" you felt silly, but spoke out anyway. "can we just move to the actual sex....?"

baekhyun frowned, confused, but smiling. "love, this is sex. is it something to do with me eating you out?" he asked gently, caressing you.

you didn't like mentioning your ex to him, since he already had an ick about the guy, but you felt there was no way to omit this. "i... don't like it. my ex already tried it once and it's just... not for me baekhyun. i just don't think it's something i'd enjoy with anyone at this point." you looked away, slightly embarrassed.

baekhyun's shoulders briefly slumped, his lips pursing into a pout as he looked between your legs again. "oh, angel... i'm sorry you feel that way." he sighed, thinking about how he could speak his mind, "but i honestly think your ex was just a fucking mutt."

your eyes widened, snorting slightly from the word he used. "a what?" you smiled, watching him squeeze your thigh.

"what kind of boyfriend is so useless he can't even make you feel good with his mouth?" he looked at you again. "baby, i swear i don't mean to be an arrogant prick, but if it were me... you definitely wouldn't think like that."

you chuckled, flicking your tongue with a grin. "oh, is that so?" you challenged, wondering how far he'd take that claim. it made you want to let him prove himself right, especially after smoking. "you want to please me with your mouth that bad?"

baekhyun chuckled, shaking his head, stealing your blunt to take the last drag and blow smoke rings onto your cunt in a way that made you even wetter. "angel, i want to make you squirt on my face." he murmured, sniffing your pussy as his hand extended to extinguish the joint in the ashtray.

you gasped when his tongue traced your outer labia all the way up to your clit. somehow, seeing baekhyun in this position made you extremely sensitive, your brows furrowing when he grinned confidently. he didn't boast any longer, though, removing your panties completely in a rough tug to be able to spread your thighs apart. "tell me everything that feels good." he hummed.

his fingers joined in into a gentle, exploring touch, his eyes fixed on your face to pay attention to every single reaction. "fuck, you taste so sweet." his voice was husky, his praise giving you tingles.

whenever he noticed a twitch on your leg, a hitch on your breath, or a clench on your grip on his shoulder, he tried to replicate it through controlled suckling and licking. "a-ah, what—!" you stammered, blinking while quickly trying to make sense of what you were feeling.

he made out with your cunt in a languid manner, humming repeatedly, eyes closing every now and then as if savoring your taste with reverence. it was definitely unlike anything you've ever felt before, something that made your hips buck forth into his face involuntarily.

"yeah, baby? what is it, hm?" baekhyun asked lowly, squeezing your folds, sucking on your clit in a teasing manner. his fingers pushed into your cunt finally, making you jolt, your eyes widening. "just like that, angel. come on. tell me if you like it." he whispered, scissoring you, flattening his tongue on your swollen bud.

"i-i—!" you voiced, panting loudly, chest heaving when his speed quickened on you, parting your fold to press inside, licking your pussy. "yes! yes, i l-like it!" you shouted, coiling tight on the couch, the pleasure mixing in with your high.

"good fucking girl." he chuckled, fingering you with a noticeable squelch, basking into your moans. he pulled his fingers away to slap your heat, then dove in with his mouth, pressing his nose on you with a filthy look in his face. "hmph—!" he groaned, pushing your hips down with a tight grip that would surely bruise.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, seeing white in your vision when he pushed his digits back inside, the veins of his arm popping out to essentially fuck you with three fingers at once. you words were already incomprehensible, the corners of your eyes stinging in irony from being proved wrong. this is what it was supposed to feel like, and baekhyun was the one to show it to you.

he spanked the back of your thighb as flicked his tongue again, and again on your clit, eyes dark and focused on you. "you sound so fucking beautiful. you're clamping down on my fingers, angel." he curled the tips of his digits, rubbing your sweet spot. "i can feel your orgasm. c'mon. give it to me now." his voice echoed, barely registering in your stunned mind.

you trembled, body convulsing as the high fast approached, stealing your breath in a silent scream, gushing on his face in a way that you've never done before. your vision blurred for a moment, before focusing on his awed expression while licking you clean, feeling sure that this man was a fiend.

he hummed a few more times, slurping erotically on your juices with care, stretching your ecstasy for longer to ensure your satisfaction, before pulling away with ragged breathing. "holy shit, baby." he smiled. "i guess you really needed that, huh?" he cooed, enjoying how long it took for you to finally speak.

"you—" you panted, "you're fucking insane." you spoke, weakly, looking down at yourself with a disbelieving grin.

"that's good, right? that felt good to you, right?" baekhyun asked with sudden wide eyes, blushing, almost as if he felt embarrassed for eating you out so passionately.

you blinked, then huffed, pulling him up for a kiss, shutting him up in the best way possible. he melted against you, letting out a choked groan when you wrapped your hand around his neglected cock. "yes. yes, it felt good. you're so good to me." you hummed, stroking him in a disarming way, making him whine like a puppy.

he grinned lazily, still a bit stoned, pushing his face on your neck. "hm, good. because i really could spend the day between your legs." he hummed, bucking his hips to your touch.

"what about your cock, baby? can i have it in me all day?" you whispered in his ear, wanting to repay the experience he gave to you.

baekhyun's head popped up immediately, nodding eagerly, whimpering. "ah—yes. let me fuck you, angel." he pleaded, crashing on top of you in a way that made you laugh, as both of you lost your minds together for the rest of the afternoon.

Music show performances are the real killer of comeback weeks for idols. Waking up at ungodly hours to be transported to the program station and prepped for early morning recordings each day of the week was no easy feat. Day in and day out during this comeback week, Baekhyun found himself with little time before work and no energy after work to practice a very important form of self-care.

By the morning of the fifth day of the week, Baekhyun's morning wood was raging and impossible to ignore. He tried his best to wait it out, hoping it would go down by the time he showed up to the Inkigayo dressing rooms—but there was no luck. After getting dressed in his stage outfit, his boner persisted, confined within his pants but making an obvious bulge at his crotch. Baekhyun knew he didn't have too much time, standby was in just eight minutes. What was he going to do? There was no way he was going to get up in front of the audience and cameras with a noticeable hard-on.

Knock knock.

You, his trusty stylist knock on the door to check on him.

“Hey, you okay in there?” You questioned through the door after it had been double the time as usual that he spends getting dressed.

“Umm, yeah. I'll be out in a second!” He shouted back. Baekhyun panicked.

“I still need to look you over and make any adjustments, Baekhyun,” you cautioned him.

Shit, shit, shit, Baekhyun thought. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths but nothing changed the condition of his very erect member that strained helplessly in his pants.

“Five minutes!” The stage director shouted to the team, voice reaching even the ears of Baekhyun through the door.

You knock once more, urgently. “Baekhyun, are you dressed?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then I'm coming in.” You turned the handle on the door to see Baekhyun, or, at least the back of him, appearing to be perfectly dressed and ready to go. “Baekhyun, let's go. You're on in five.”

He was silent as he kept his back to you and made no movements to turn around and leave. You gently grabbed his shoulder to turn him around. “Baekhyun, what are you—” His body gave a bit from your efforts. He continued to look down and you followed his gaze. Your eyes traveled down his torso to see what was making him so worrisome. The shocking sight of a very large bulge made it’s way into your view. Your eyes widened and you couldn't help but gasp. The all white ensemble did nothing to hide the dimensionality of his tented pants.

Baekhyun quickly turned back around, ashamed of his current state but at least you knew the reason for his strange behavior.

You thought for a moment, weighing different options in your head as the time only dwindled with each unproductive second that passed. You had to do something about it. Closing your eyes, you took a deep exhale before getting onto your knees. Baekhyun turned around and furrowed his eyebrows at your position. He stood frozen, gaping at you in disbelief.

You never thought you’d be here again, kneeling for him, ready to take his excited cock between your lips.

Indeed, you broke up with Baekhyun three months ago. Though your relationship ended, your job persisted. Every day you two still crossed paths and supported each other professionally.

You did this with confidence because, really, you knew he still wanted you; his stolen glances at you were hard to ignore.

“Come on. We don't have long.” You looked up at him expectantly, eyebrow raised as if to challenge him.

“Y/n, this is crazy,” he whisper-screamed. He was waiting for you to get up—for you to end your joke. But it wasn't a joke. The reality of it only became more apparent once he felt you reach for his zipper and unzipped his pants by yourself. Baekhyun blinked in disbelief. It was as if he was dreaming—seeing you on your knees, looking up at him with eager eyes.

“Three minutes!” You both heard the stage director announce boldly. The rest of the team began to knock on the door in concern over the ticking clock.

“We're handling it, guys! There's a wardrobe malfunction. We'll be done in two minutes.” You shouted back to pacify those on the other side of the door.

You hurriedly peeled back the top of his pants and forced down the waistband of his underwear. His cock sprung out ready to play and he let out a sigh of relief at the release of his confines. You notice the pre-cum pearled on his tip and thanked god that it hadn’t permeated through his boxers to his trousers.

You didn't stall. You took his dick into your mouth, immediately bobbing your head and swirling your tongue the way he liked—it was muscle memory.

Indeed, this was not your first time. You've been here before.

“Fuck, I missed this,” Baekhyun breathed out as he took all that you had to give him. You began to take him deeper and deeper down your throat while keeping your tongue flat—that always made him get to the edge quickly.

To give him the final push to cum, you continued to deep throat him while looking up into his eyes that held a lecherous gaze. Baekhyun loved to see the tears that well in your eyes when you take him all the way down your throat. Even more so, he loved to see them spill onto your flushed cheeks. And not to worry, you never missed a beat. You positioned his hand to the back of your head so that he could fuck your face at a faster tempo. With each thrust testing your gag reflex, you felt the tears build until finally, you blinked and they satisfyingly spilled over.

That sight that Baekhyun missed oh so much got him off. Without warning, his cum shot out unrelentingly, copiously. You could tell it had been many days since his last release. You swallowed it all, you know, to keep things neat. He swayed his head back and regained his composure.

“Wow, that was record time,” you commented. Baekhyun smirked before putting himself away to resume his duties.

You left the room with tear-stained cheeks and smudged lip stick. Everyone refrained from asking what happened because finally, the man of the hour was out and ready to get onto the stage with just 30 seconds to spare.

After the show that was successfully carried out, Baekhyun changed out of his stage clothing for his casual hoodie and sweatpants instead. Handing you the outfit neatly folded for you to take back to the company with the rest of the styling materials, he decided to shoot his shot… different from the one from earlier.

“You know... I really missed when we were together, I think—”

You shook your head vehemently, fixing the tall boy with a dagger-like stare that he seemed completely unfazed by. “I demand a redraw.”

“Which is not going to happen,” was his gleeful response. “We all agreed — no take-backs before picking.” The hat that you had all drawn out of, now empty, was tossed on the coffee table as everyone else began to move their bags into their freshly chosen rooms. Somewhere down the hallway, Jongin tripped over the wheels of his suitcase, his pained groan and Kyungsoo’s laughter bouncing against the walls of the AirBnb.

“Besides,” Chanyeol continued, hand coming up to ruffle your hair, “if I had actually rigged it, you should be thanking me. I’d be doing you a favour.” He gestured towards Baekhyun, who was busying himself with packing his hoodie back into his duffle bag, hopefully oblivious to the fact that the two of you were conspiring about him less than three metres away. 

“Yeah, say it any louder, why don’t you. And no, that wasn’t an invitation,” you warned, catching the wicked glint in Chanyeol’s eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to make good on your request and let the whole house know, only to choke back a groan at the elbow you shoved into his side. Behave, said the glare that you shot at him. His replying smile was anything but reassuring, before he picked up his bag and headed upstairs.

That was what you got for getting a little too drunk at Jongdae’s housewarming get-together last month and accidentally slipping up about your big, fat, debilitating crush on Baekhyun after the third glass of pinot noir in one night. If it had been anyone else made aware of your juvenile secret, you would probably be feeling a little less uneasy — but it just had to be the one person who couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Not to mention Park Chanyeol was a terrible wingman, having heard about the ridiculous escapades he put Jongdae through before he finally cuffed his girlfriend. Lucky for you, you were now getting to experience it first-hand.

“I can ask Jongin to swap, if you really don’t want to room with me,” came a soft voice from your right. Baekhyun regarded you with an expectant, if somewhat hesitant expression. 

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, trying your best to mask the panic that was fighting its way into your voice. It would be just your luck, that he would think your reluctance to share a sleeping space with him was because you didn’t like him enough, and not that you liked him a little too much. The slight furrow in his brow seemed to melt away with your words. “I just wanted the big room with the queen bed, but somehow Chanyeol got it. I seriously think he did something to these,” you said, waving your slip of paper that matched the one he was holding.

Come to think of it, you and Baekhyun had also been the last ones to draw out of the hat, since Chanyeol had insisted on going counter-clockwise around the dining table. How he managed to game the room allocations was beyond you, but you were now almost certain that he did.

“It’s good that he’s by himself though. The snoring would drive anyone mad,” Baekhyun mused, and you had to chuckle in agreement. 

“That time he passed out at my place after Saturday drinks…I genuinely thought I’d end up with a murder charge that night.” you said, chest squeezing at the way his eyes crinkled into crescent moons at your words. You busied yourself with your own bag, hoping he wouldn’t see the dumb smile on your face, and be able to tell how pleased you were to have teased a laugh out of him. Laughter was not something he usually withheld — he gave it freely, if not a little too generously — but it always did a funny thing to your heart when you were the cause of it. 

“Definitely can’t have that. Pretty face like yours would not last a day in jail.” With one hand around his own duffle, he draped the free one around your shoulders, letting the warmth of his arm wrap around you as you headed down the corridor to the room you’d be sharing for the weekend.

Having a crush on Baekhyun was no big deal. Probably even normal, if his college days were anything to go by. But what made it so debilitating was things like this — the little comments he’d throw around that could easily be passed off as just friendly flirting if you were so inclined, though you sometimes let yourself imagine his intentions came more from the flirting than the friendly part. He was a generally touchy person too, never missing a chance to pat Kyungsoo’s ass when the opportunity arose, but sometimes the brush of his fingers against the inside of your wrist felt a little too affectionate for two people united solely through friendship, even if you were the only one who internally crossed that line a while ago. It was things like this that made you question, every once in a while, if your feelings were as one-sided as you believed. Most of the time though, you chalked it up to his disposition, his easy-going magnetism, and concluded that whatever signals you thought he was sending were merely due to your overactive imagination running wild with hopes that he felt the same way.

“Dibs left,” he said, plopping down on the twin bed closer to the window. His arms raised above his head in a long, yawning stretch, revealing a thin strip of skin at the waistband of his jeans. Just the sight of it was enough to control your blood, sending a rush of it to your face, and you internally cursed yourself for being so weak to such a small thing. It was obvious you had been alone for way too long. He was too comfortable to notice the flush on your cheeks, eyes shut and enjoying the tension leaving his body after the long drive up.

You sat yourself down carefully on the remaining bed, noting the gap between the two mattresses. Whether you wanted to push them together or against opposite walls of the room, you couldn’t be sure. It was hard to form coherent thoughts when he turned to you with a boyish playfulness that curled the corner of his mouth upwards.

“You’re not going to sleepwalk your way into my bed, are you?” he asked, chin in his hand, a teasing glint in his eyes. You tried hard to catch yourself from choking on your own saliva.

“I’ve been known to kick in my sleep,” was your reply, voice much more nonchalant than you thought you were capable of, given that he had just planted the seed of the two of you sharing a twin mattress that was definitely not big enough to lie down on without touching in at least three different places. The glint in his eyes faded immediately, giving way to thinly-veiled concern at the threat underlying your words.

“I was kidding,” you clarified when he sat up and started to back away from you. “At least, I haven’t done that for fifteen or so years. But you never know, it might come back again tonight, when you’ve finally fallen asleep, and then BAM! Foot to the face. You better sleep with your eyes open, Byun Baekhyun,” you warned, giggling at the realisation dawning over his face before his pretty features settled into mock annoyance.

“You just think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He was on all fours now, making his way towards you with a wolfish grin. In no time, he had crawled over the gap between your two beds and suddenly his fingers were prodding at your ribs. It was a well-planned tickle attack, and one you had no chance of escaping from, since his legs had caged you in and the rest of him was pinning you down. You were helpless against the ambush of his fingers, succumbing to them with gasping giggles, punctuated by desperate pleas for him to stop. He showed no intention of letting up, fingers digging even deeper into your waist.

If you were going to die like this, you thought, at least you’d be dying while lying under him.

“When you two are done canoodling, we’re going to go set up on the beach,” came a voice from the doorway. Baekhyun’s merciless fingers paused, and the two of you looked back to see Chanyeol’s amused face at the foot of your bed, smirking like he knew some big secret that neither of you were privy to. God, you were seriously regretting that third glass at Jongdae’s new apartment last month.

Baekhyun turned back to you, your noses almost touching, and you could feel the air from his exhales fanning against the skin of your cheek. There was a mole just above the corner of his mouth that you don’t think you had ever noticed before. Warmth from his jean-clad legs radiated into your hips and meandered up and down your spine, and suddenly the late summer air around you was becoming sticky and heavier than usual. 

As if just now noticing the proximity you were in, he slowly untangled himself from your limbs, making sure not to crush you in the process. You sat up, still breathless, having just calmed down enough for full inhales again, but so was he, you noted. Surely tickling wasn’t that exertive of an activity? Or maybe you’d put up a better fight than you had thought.

“Don’t forget your towels,” was the last thing Chanyeol said before he ducked out, yelling at Jongin to grab the beach umbrellas, not the rain ones. There were a few seconds just filled with the sounds of your slowing breathing.

“I’m going to go get changed,” Baekhyun said, turning around to dig through his bag for his swim shorts. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could hear the slight tremble in his voice that indicated he hadn’t quite recovered from whatever was afflicting him. “We’ll probably just be setting up the umbrellas, so no rush, just come down when you’re ready.” As he turned around to head towards the bathroom, he flashed you that familiar smile, the one that always resulted in one of your own to mirror his, and set you at ease again. 

“And make sure you bring your sunscreen,” he added, before disappearing down the hallway. You watched him go, throwing yourself back onto the bed with a frustrated groan once you were sure he was out of earshot. Two whole days and nights in this tiny room, in the languid death of summer, with his body just an arm’s length away from yours — you had no idea how much of this you could stomach and emerge with your sanity intact.

This was shaping up to be the longest weekend ever.

The afternoon sun was unforgiving when you emerged from the house. Though you had thrown on a cover up before leaving, you could feel the heat tingling on the surface of your skin through the thin cotton. From the top of the bushy path leading down to the beach, you could already hear the tell-tale signs of a competition brewing between the boys, even if you couldn’t quite see them yet. A few steps down and you could make out their figures, managing to catch the view of Chanyeol flipping backwards off the jetty before plunging into the water, where the rest of them were bobbing around. Baekhyun’s voice floated above the others the way it always did when he was teasing, liltingly distinguishable, though perhaps that was only because you were now so attuned to it that other voices naturally started to sound more foreign. 

It was hard to pinpoint exactly when he went from Baekhyun, your friend who tended to get a little too rowdy after half a can of beer, to Baekhyun, your friend who made your heart pick up a little faster when you thought of him. One day his hiccuping laugh was teetering on the edge of obnoxiousness, and then all of a sudden it became endearing to hear the raw joy in his voice. If you knew exactly when the switch flipped, maybe you’d be able to retrace your steps and stop yourself from ever setting off down this path to end up where you were now, watching the sunlight glisten against his wet face with an overwhelming affection, wondering what it would be like to be the private audience of his radiant smile everyday.

You set your things down on the sand next to the pile of clothes and towels that were already there, recognising Chanyeol’s hat somewhere in the mix. The beach umbrella that Jongin had set up was already beginning to lurch towards one side, the brim rather close to the ground. Fixing it back in place and digging it into the sand a little deeper, you let out a fond laugh — some things, like the way Jongin used his hands like they weren’t his own, would stand the test of time. 

You had hoped that your friendship with Baekhyun would be one of those things, but the more time you spent casting longing glances his way when he wasn’t looking, the more you weren’t sure if you could ever recover from his rejection if you ever did decide to be honest about your feelings towards him. So you did your best to bury them, content to enjoy his company in the way you were both familiar with, afraid that if they did surface, they’d taint your friendship with something unpleasant and irreversible. If you couldn’t own the sun, at least you could still revel in its warmth.

Satisfied with the position of your towel underneath the shade of the umbrella, you looked back at the water, returning Baekhyun’s sweeping wave with a small one of your own. It was just enough of a distraction for Chanyeol to turn around as well, and Baekhyun seized the opportunity to dunk him, gleefully howling as the taller boy’s head disappeared below the waves. Before Chanyeol could resurface and enact his retaliation, Baekhyun was already making his escape, swimming towards the shore with fearful determination. Chanyeol made to follow, but upon seeing you sitting on the beach with your eyes fixed on Baekhyun’s approaching figure, he thought better of it, turning back around to continue the diving evaluation as Jongin took his turn to leap off the jetty.

With an amused smile, you watched as Baekhyun hurried out of the ocean, wet hair flying in all directions and flicking droplets of seawater across the sand. The water trickled down the planes of his bare torso, and you tried to keep your eyes away from the firmness of his pec, or the flexing movements of his abdominals as he made his way over to you. One thing was for sure — the gym sessions with Chanyeol were paying off. 

When he finally reached you, Baekhyun slumped onto your towel, ignoring your protests for him to stay away, and proceeded to soak you in the remaining water that was still clinging to his body. The skin of his stomach was cool against your calf, and he giggled delightfully at your attempts to push him off to avoid getting more water onto your clothes.

“Stop trying to fight it, you’re going to get wet when you go in anyway,” he said, finally rolling off you.

“I wasn’t planning on going in. I’m scared you’ll try to drown me,” you huffed, lightly flicking some sand onto his shoulder with your toe. He turned back around, chin cradled in his left hand, and flashed you a boyish smile.

“I would never do that,” he said, though the glint in his eyes was anything but convincing. “Besides, what are you going to do at the beach if you’re not getting in the water?”

You picked up the book nestled in between your shoes and waved it at him. “Read, of course.” He regarded the worn paperback with amused disbelief, eyebrows slightly raised. It was only when you flipped the book open to the paperclip you’d been using as a bookmark that he realised you were serious, and let out a scoff that was laced with something akin to fondness.

“You are such a cliche. Pretty girl reading at the beach? Unbelievable, seriously,” he said, before wriggling his head into your stomach, relishing in your shocked squeals as your cover up began to dampen again. His mischief had left a few wet patches on the fabric that were beginning to stick to your body in the uncomfortable fashion of late summer. You reached for the hem, pulling it off not without some struggle, and immediately felt the sun kissing against your bare shoulders. Though you were mostly covered by the shade from the umbrella, the last thing you wanted was a blistering sunburn where the straps of your tote bag usually rested, so you grabbed the sunscreen you had so diligently packed and began applying it on the parts of your skin that were exposed.

Baekhyun had gone uncharacteristically quiet. If you had been paying attention to him instead of so attentively rubbing the cream into the underside of your knee, perhaps you would have noticed the way his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than would have been polite. They followed the path your hands took, from the expanse of skin below your neck, across your stomach, and down the length of your legs.

“Do you want me to do your back?” he blurted, his voice a little more strained than usual. He was wearing an odd expression on his face, something you couldn’t quite place, but it was different from the usual playful one you were most well acquainted with. Nevertheless, you agreed, passing him the tube and turning around so your back was facing him.

His fingers were still cold from the water, and you jumped when they first made contact with your skin. He only laughed, squeezing both hands around your shoulders to hold you still before he got back to work again.

The first graze of his hands across your shoulders was tentative. You could feel the heat of him behind your back, the smell of salt and sun clinging to the air around you. His breaths fanned the skin on the back of your neck, sending goosebumps down your arms and legs despite the thick heat of the afternoon. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Slowly, his hands made their way down to your lower back, and it was then that you realised you might be in trouble. His hands pressed against the grooves of your spine, curving ever so slightly around your waist, and if you shivered, he pretended not to feel you tremble in his grasp. 

It was when his fingers slipped underneath the ties of your bikini top that the alarm bells began to go off in your head. His movements were hesitant, fingers stuttering in their dance across your skin before they gingerly pulled the strings aside to spread the sunscreen between the top and bottom halves of your back. It was too much, feeling his warmth, knowing there was only an inch of space between your bare torsos, having his hands on you doing such a thorough job with the task he had assigned to himself. When the tips of his fingers brushed the side of your ribs, just under the edge of the fabric, you couldn’t help the breathy noise that escaped your lips. 

“Actually, I think I left something back at the house,” you said suddenly, words hurriedly running into each other as they tripped over your tongue on the way out of your mouth. Twisting away from his dangerous touch, you bolted to a stand and hoped he’d attribute the pinkness of your cheeks to being outside in the brightness of the afternoon. Your words came out staggered, the slight tremble in your voice betraying the composure you were fighting so hard to maintain. 

Baekhyun’s gaze was careful, if not a little confused. The more his eyes ran over you, the more you were sure that the depth of your feelings towards him were beginning to surface on your face. Another second and he’d be able to tell, he’d figure out the little secret you’d been trying to conceal for the last couple of months. And then you wouldn’t be able to deny its existence anymore. 

So you fled, tossing a rushed promise to be right back over your shoulder before scurrying up the bushy path again. Away from the scrutiny of his eyes, away from the truth you did not want revealed to the world. The ghost of his touch lingered between your shoulder blades and along the ridges of your spine, your body already committing to memory the caress of his skin against yours. You realised then, that it would not be possible to continue living on as usual, now that you knew the taste of his closeness, as fleeting as it may have been.

“I think you should just go for it.”

Your fingers tightened around the glass at his words. Chanyeol’s tone was light and pragmatic, speaking as if the act of unfurling your heart were nothing more than a decision about whether to have steak or pork belly for dinner. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoffed, bringing the bottle to your lips.

“I’m serious though,” he continued, nudging your arm with the lip of his own beer. “I think you should just tell him, and see what he says. And stop expecting the worst. You’ll never know how things could turn out if you never do anything.”

You let your head fall back to lean on the doorframe you were both standing against, gazing out at the patio that had begun to darken following the sunset. Baekhyun and Jongin were placed at opposite ends of the ping pong table that had been wheeled out of the living room after dinner, neither seeming to mind the soft prick of grass at the underside of their bare feet. Whether the game was proceeding well was difficult to deduce, since both were sporting wide grins and rosy cheeks, courtesy of the glasses in their hands — but judging by the cluster of orange balls around Baekhyun’s feet, you had an inkling that victory would not be his. He didn’t seem to mind yet, laughing gleefully as Jongin swung his racquet too hard and launched a ball over the fence. 

“Not everyone is as good as you when it comes to talking about their feelings, you know,” you said, fixing Chanyeol with a knowing look that was halfway between admiration and resentment. If you only had his courage of expression, perhaps you would’ve put an end to your suffering a while ago. Ripped the band-aid off cleanly instead of peeling away at it, day by day, bit by bit, until it was hanging on by the last of its adhesive. You weren’t sure how much longer your resolve could last, if it would even survive this weekend without snapping under the force of your attraction.

He only shrugged. “You can’t get good without actually doing it.” You pondered his words in the short silence that settled while you both took another sip. He was right, of course, you knew that, but it didn’t make hearing it any easier.

“I think… I’m just scared,” you began slowly. Realising you were about to put his advice into action, Chanyeol turned to you with reassuring and patient eyes, waiting. You took a deep breath, swinging the contents of your bottle back and forth, and continued, “I’m scared that if I do tell him, it’s going to change our relationship and then I’ll lose him completely. At least if I don’t say anything, he’s still my friend, and I get to keep being in his life.”

He regarded you for a moment, brows furrowed thoughtfully, as he decided on his next words. It was no easy feat to try on honesty the way you just did, having so carefully avoided it for your entire life, and he was well aware of it. The slight tremble in your hands was a dead giveaway.

“And I think that’s completely understandable,” he finally said. “There’s always going to be a trade-off, no matter what you choose to do. But I guess you have to weigh up which one means more to you, and if you’re willing to take that risk on the chance that it does work out between you two. I’m only telling you what I think you should do. You’re the one who knows your own feelings the best.”

Another silence fell over the two of you again. Your bottle was nearly empty now, the beer inside already lukewarm from being out of the cooler for too long. Jongin let out a cheer as the ball sailed over his head, landing far behind him on the grass and ignoring Baekhyun’s flagrant attempts at contesting the point. Even under the patio lights, he was still so pretty, cheeks pink and glowy, the shape of his mouth so endearing as it settled into a pout. By now, you were used to the longing, and paid it no mind as it filled your chest with a bittersweet warmth.

“Aren’t you two best friends though?” you asked, the thought suddenly occurring to you. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything about how he feels about… whatever is going on?” The look you gave Chanyeol was suspicious, but he stood strong, resisting your prying eyes.

“I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I went around blabbing to you about his feelings, would I?” was his response, accompanied by an elusive smile. There was something in his words that lingered in your mind, some important detail you felt as if you had overlooked, but his amused expression gave you nothing to hold onto. “You’re both so clueless,” he chuckled after a beat of your thoughtful silence, downing the rest of his drink.

Baekhyun was skipping over now, having officially lost 18-21 to Jongin, who was heartily celebrating his victory with a series of hoots and giggles. He headed straight for you, hair all messed up from running his hands through it during the game, and a rosy flush to his face, though you weren’t sure if that was from the game or the glass that he had left at the ping pong table. When he wrapped his arms around you and buried his head in your shoulder, you knew that it was probably the latter.

“I lost the game,” he whined, petulant and firm against you. His hair tickled your chin, and you could smell the faint scent of his shampoo from his shower after the beach.

“Are you drunk already?” you asked, trying to mask your breathlessness at his proximity with a few giggles. Baekhyun’s affinity for physical contact was the worst — or best, depending on how you looked at it — when he had alcohol in his system, and it didn’t take much to push him past the borders of sobriety. His ache for touch and affection was most often relieved on you, and you always obliged, gladly and readily letting him take whatever it was he wanted.

The tip of his nose brushed back and forth against your skin as he shook his head. “Just a little, tiny bit,” he said, voice muffled, and you felt the warmth of his breath through your t-shirt.

“Where’s the love for your best friend?” Chanyeol teased, the only one amused at the way Baekhyun had dived straight into your arms without even sparing him a glance. 

The boy in your arms didn’t even falter, only snuggling further into you. “You know it’s because she’s my favourite,” he murmured, lips skimming your collarbone ever so softly as he spoke. The panic onset was instantaneous, and you prayed he was too drunk to pick up on the sudden rapid thundering of your heartbeat inside your chest. You tried to look at Chanyeol for help, but he was setting off across the patio, taking up Jongin on his invitation for a match with the promise that he would wipe the floor with the younger boy.

Baekhyun only hummed contentedly, oblivious to the havoc he was wreaking inside you, tightening his hold around you when you made a half-hearted attempt to wriggle out of his arms. His pink lips set into another rounded pout, brows slightly creased as he pulled back to look at you.

“You know you’re my favourite, right?” he asked, trying to be convincing despite the slight slur to his words. You could only nod, letting a small smile twist the corners of your mouth upwards. Whether he realised or meant what he was saying, you weren’t all that concerned, simply happy to bask in the warmth of his full attention knowing it was probably just nonsensical babble brought on by the drink in his belly. It was so much easier to be close to him when he was like this, hazier, and sure to forget most of what he had said the morning afterwards. It didn’t hurt that you were also starting to feel a little blurrier around the edges, the beer from earlier making its way through your system and leaving behind a pleasant fuzziness that made it all the more tempting to come clean about your feelings. But you weren’t quite there yet, and you had no plans to get to that point tonight.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he curled back up into you. With your hands around his back, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heart, the comfortingly even beat of it through his rib cage. It was so easy to imagine this was the way it had always been, and would always be, so easy to slip into the fairytale you often found yourself fabricating when your one-sided longing became too much to contain. It would be so nice if you could live in this moment forever, you thought. But was this small pocket of peace worth risking your entire friendship?

“I wish you’d stop running away from me,” he murmured, or at least that’s what you thought he said. It was a little difficult to concentrate when his lips were grazing your skin again, lightly feathering across your neck as the words shaped his mouth on their way out of it. 

And then you felt it, the unmistakable and deliberate press of his lips against your collarbone, the gentle pressure and the slight moisture on your skin from it searing through you like a lit trail of gasoline. This time, he had to have heard the stilted gasp that escaped your mouth.

He lifted his head slowly to look at you again, searching your face with glassy eyes — for what, you weren’t quite sure. The only things you were sure of right now were the fiery burn in your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your heart that echoed between your ears. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, though his expression was nowhere near as apologetic as his words would have you believe. If anything, his gaze on you was almost daring, waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d shrink back into yourself like you always did when he got too close and crossed that invisible boundary you only danced around. If you’d run away from him the way he had just said he wished you wouldn’t. Or if you’d let him push you over too, just this once.

Seeing the hesitation in your face, he slowly extricated from you, retracting his limbs and warmth until they hung limply by his sides again. Scratched the back of his head. Let his eyes wander around the patio and settle on anything except for you. 

“I’m going to see if Kyungsoo needs any help with cleaning up,” he said quietly, not waiting for your response as he headed back into the house. The drink had made his gait unsteady, and you felt him sway against the doorframe as he brushed past you. A chilling unease began to settle in the pit of your stomach as you watched him go, the shape of his back getting smaller and smaller as he was swallowed by the light of the living room. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, and that there was a possibility it had not been in the direction you had hoped for.

Perhaps the second glass of wine had been a little overambitious, you realised, staring up at the ceiling of your shared bedroom. Kyungsoo had been so excited about the 2012 Shiraz he had brought from home, pouring you a full glass with an enthusiasm he didn’t often display. You couldn’t say no, and you didn’t protest when he refilled it a short while later. If he noticed the faster-than-usual speed with which you drained its contents, he did not show it. Whilst alcohol tended to put people to sleep, it had the opposite effect on you, dangling sleep in front of you like a carrot you could never get a hold of easily, or for long. That second glass of wine was the reason you were lying in bed, not soundly asleep like you wished, but keenly aware of every breath and every movement from the other occupant of the room, only an arm’s length away from you.

Baekhyun had spent most of the night with Chanyeol out on the patio, drinking and laughing under the generous light of the moon. Even if he wasn’t purposely avoiding you, you felt his absence from your side sorely. He didn’t say much during the wind down for bed either, only asking if you wanted the curtains fully shut, to which you gave an affirmative. Still, a sliver of moonlight speared through the gap between them, illuminating the room just enough that if you turned your head to the side, you could make out the outline of his body beneath the covers and acquaint yourself with the familiar curve of his nose.

It was only fair that the wine, having taken your sleep, offered something in return to mark an honourable trade. That something manifested itself in the restlessness of your mouth, which battled against the remaining rationality of your mind. Loose-lipped and anxious, you dug your nails into the palm of your hand, willing the war inside your head to approach a ceasefire. You did not want to make a fool of yourself in the intimacy of this small room. 

However, your resolve could not last for long, corroded by the hours spent without his presence, without the familiar warmth of his touch, without his little comments meant only for you as he pointed out something silly or poked fun at Jongin’s whining. Barely above a whisper, you called out his name, letting your voice permeate the darkness. It was loud enough that he’d hear it above the silence, but soft enough that he could ignore it if he so wished, and you’d attribute his ignorance to the deepness of sleep.

There was a second of silence, which he followed with an answering hum and a shuffle of his legs on the mattress. He was awake, and he was waiting for you to speak.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked the ceiling. 

“No, I’m not mad at you,” was his reply, accompanied by a quiet sigh. He was conversing with the ceiling too, just as reluctant to face you.

Your hands twisted the sheets in dissatisfaction. The even tone of his voice indicated truth, but his answer didn’t explain why he had spent the whole night outside without calling for you even once, when he usually couldn’t last half an hour without pressing into your side and tickling your shoulder to grab your attention. 

“Then what?” you probed, cringing at the whiny edge to your voice. 

He was quiet for a while, letting your words hang in the air, that for a moment you thought he wouldn’t speak, that your brief conversation had already come to an end, and you’d be left with unanswered questions as bedside companions for the night. There was another rustling from his side of the room as he settled himself under the covers.

“Sometimes, I think I want too much from you,” he finally said. He was quiet, but you heard every word with the clarity as if they had been projected through a stereo system. “And you can’t give me everything I want, but that’s not your fault. It’s an indication of my own greed and selfishness more than anything else.”

You kicked around at your sheets to signal your unrest at his words. “I don’t think you are greedy or selfish. At all. At least not with me.” If anything, you were the selfish one, wanting all his smiles and touches for yourself, wanting the entire spectrum of his existence to only ever be shown to you. Your generosity only ever came to light when it was in service of him, gladly letting him take your attention, your time, allocating space in your mind for him and him only. 

Baekhyun only laughed a soft and short laugh at your reply, the sound so different from the usual one filled with boisterous joy that you had grown the most used to. You heard him turn over in his bed to face you. In the quiet darkness of the room, the focus of his gaze flooded over you, and the intensity of it was so blinding you didn’t dare to look away from the smoothness of the ceiling, fearing you’d smoulder into ash the moment you locked eyes with him.

“You know that you are a really important person to me. You know that, right?” he asked, eyes searing into you with the force of a thousand suns. “I mean, everyone else is also important because they’re my friends, but you’re different — you are a special person to me. I don’t see you the way I see Chanyeol, or Jongin, or anyone else.” 

His words were still tinged with the slight slur of the beer from out on the patio, but you could feel the delicate care with which they were chosen and spoken. Something was different about tonight. You could taste it in the thick air between the two of you, feel it in the wire-taut tension stretching across the gap between your two twin beds. Your fingers dug into the comforter, willing the turbulence in your chest to subside.

He paused and took a deep breath, as if bracing himself against something devastating. “I don’t want the same things with them as I do with you.”

You held your breath until you felt the pain of deprivation in your chest.

“But I’ve made peace with the fact that what I want from you, and the way I feel about you, are things I’ll have to carry with me. They’re things I have to bear the weight of alone. I don’t — I would never want you to be uncomfortable, or see me differently.” There was a slight catch in his voice at the end.

You didn’t even know if your lungs were still working while you listened to him speak. There was a surrealness to the night, as if everything had been covered in a blanket of haze and everything that was transpiring was the product of a fever-induced dream, existing on an alternate timeline.

Baekhyun… it didn’t even feel right thinking it.

Baekhyun had feelings for you? And he had convinced himself it was one-sided?

“It’s pretty selfish, isn’t it? Asking you to act like things between us won’t change after everything I just said,” he laughed, but there was little humour in the sound. You finally turned your head to look at him, the wry curve of his mouth catching the moonlight as he gazed at you. He was smiling, the shape of it meant to comfort you, but he could not hide the sadness weaved into the downturn of his eyes. He had always been braver than you, perhaps not in the aspect of riding roller-coasters, but certainly in his ability to be honest and open about his emotions, regardless of whether they were good or bad. 

It was your turn to be brave now, and shed your own fear to meet him where he stood.

“I’ve been seeing you differently for a while now,” you admitted, turning under the sheets to fully face him. You were grateful for the darkness, hoping that it would conceal the heat creeping up your neck and face, painting your cheeks with a hot blush that accompanied the start of your confession. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, confusion settling in the crease between them. You held yourself back from reaching out to smooth them over.

“What do you mean?”

“What makes you think you’re the only one who feels this way?” you asked instead, leaving his question unanswered. There was a tremble in your voice as you spoke, and you were sure he heard it above the quiet of your bedroom. It was the closest you could get to telling him without actually telling him about the silent battle that had been raging in your head for the last few months. 

This was it, you thought. He had to know now.

“Am I not?”

The weight of his stare pressed against you, drawing you to him with the tangible pull of gravity. The eyes that roamed your face had replaced their previous confusion with questioning, and a glimmer of something akin to hope. He had never looked more beautiful and devastating than he did right now. You felt the light of dawn breaking over your skin, a promise of something new and good sure to follow. Its warmth simmered within you, staving off the chill of the late summer night with a heat that had you pushing off your covers in a hurried frenzy and rising to sit on the edge of your bed, toes just grazing the floorboards beneath you. Would you still have had the same nerve to face him in the daylight, rough and exposed without the lulling comfort of darkness? Would he still look at you, unpolished and flawed in the clarity of the sun, the same way, with the reverence of man at the sight of an angel? 

Baekhyun mirrored you and sat up on his own bed, slowly, as if not wanting to spook you, fearing you’d run off and retreat back into the confined familiarity of your own head. His knees knocked against yours in the small space between your two mattresses. You jolted at the feeling of his skin on yours, having gone without it for so long that the mere touch was like the first drop of water after emerging from the desert. He made to move away, trying to shuffle across the length of the bed, but stilled at the hand you placed just over his knee, willing him to stay put. Surely, he could feel the beat of your heart thrumming through your fingertips.

It was your turn to be brave now.

Fueled by the second glass of Shiraz and the muted encouragement of darkness, before you could second guess yourself and overthink every possible negative outcome of what you were about to do, you closed your eyes and leant towards him. Slowly, inch by inch, until your journey ended with the soft, tentative press of your lips against his. It was short and chaste, nothing more than a gentle pressure, and you pulled back when you felt his lips part in surprise.

“Does that answer your question?” you whispered, heart in your throat. 

There it was. You had gone and done it. 

His eyes were closed, and in the dim moonlight peeking through the curtain, you could almost make out each of his eyelashes, fluttering dark and soft against the smooth skin of his cheek. For a few seconds, the room was filled only with the sounds of your breathing as you waited for his reaction, for the consequences of your actions and what that meant for your friendship with him. 

Then you heard it — his soft laugh, coloured with appreciative disbelief, and felt the air of it caress your face. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into a small, pleased smile. His eyes blinked open slowly, taking you in with a hunger that had desire curling in the pit of your stomach.

“You are just so…” he began, but you never found out just exactly what you were. He was already pulling you back into him, slotting his mouth against yours like they were always made to fit perfectly together. This time, the kiss was anything but chaste, the sheer force of it enough to scorch your insides down to your bones. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush towards him, and your knees parted around his thighs to adjust to the new position. Your own hands found purchase in the softness of the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for something to anchor yourself to, in fear that the realisation of this moment would somehow make it slip away.

This was what it felt like to stand unafraid and bare in the light of unbridled wanting, to consume and be consumed by a ravenous appetite with no propensity for satiety. When his hands slipped past the hem of your sleep tank, fingertips grazing across the skin of your lower back, you were sure you could erupt into flames. He swallowed the breathy noise that escaped your lips, tongue brushing against yours as he claimed your mouth with his own. 

This was what it felt like to hold the sun in the palm of your hand.

When you broke apart to catch your breaths, his eyes were bright, lips plump and swollen, chest heaving beneath your hands. Somehow, you had ended up back on his bed, his head against the pillows, hands under your shirt and keeping you close to him with an unforgiving hold. He was gazing up at you with a devotion that made your heart swell even more than it did pulling oxygen back into your lungs.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” he admitted, hiding his head into the crook of your shoulder. You felt his abashed smile against your skin and wondered how it could be possible that you had contained all of this, the longing, the yearning, inside you for so long.

“How long?” you asked, hearing the smile in your own voice.

“Since Chanyeol’s birthday, when you wore that brown sweater with the little bow on the back.”

Last year, Chanyeol had gotten everyone together at his place for a nice dinner and wine followed by a binge watch of all the Iron Man movies in one sitting. It was all going according to plan until a quarter of the way into the third one, when he began snoring at his own birthday gathering. The bowl of popcorn was sliding out of his hands and sure to make a buttery mess all over the rug, and that’s when the rest of you decided to turn the television off and call it a night. Sehun and Jongin tasked themselves with getting the birthday boy into bed, and likely collapsed onto it with him immediately after, while Baekhyun had offered you the couch, assuring you he’d be fine with the blankets on the floor. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. As chaotic as he could be, Baekhyun was nothing if not kind, and you had been grateful that his kindness had always extended to you over the three years you had known each other.

“But that was more than half a year ago. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

His fingers prodded into your sides, eliciting a few choked giggles from you. “I didn’t know how you’d react. You know you’re not the most expressive person on the planet,” he said dryly. “Or the most observant. I literally frenched your collarbone and you’re telling me you didn’t realise I liked you more than as a friend?”

“Okay, well when you put it like that,” you huffed, feeling the vibrations of his laugh through his chest. “But you really didn’t know I had feelings for you? Chanyeol never said anything?”

His movements stilled, leaning back into the pillows so he could lock eyes with you again. “You talk to Chanyeol about me?” he asked, to which you nodded sheepishly. “Since when?”

“Last month, Jongdae’s housewarming. He fished it out of me after dinner,” you sighed, picturing his smug grin under the lights of Jongdae’s fancy new kitchen when you realised that you had slipped up and let him in on your little secret. 

“But I talk to him about you.”

You looked at each other for another beat, realisation breaking over the both of you, before dissolving into another fit of disbelieving giggles. Maybe Park Chanyeol did know how to keep his mouth shut after all.

“So he’s a terrible wingman, is what I’m getting out of this whole thing,” Baekhyun chuckled, rolling you over so you were now lying on your side, face to face with him. He planted a slow, sweet kiss on your lips, taking his time to acquaint himself with the shape and taste of your mouth, and you felt the contentment of his smile against you. “I can’t believe we could have gotten together a month ago. Some best friend he is.”

“Gotten together?” you echoed, one eyebrow raised in feigned dispute, delighting in the way his sweet mouth settled into the pout that you adored.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t want to be with me after your tongue was all up in my mouth?”

You pushed his face away, groaning, “Gross, don’t say it like that.” He, however, had different plans, hooking a calf behind your knees and tugging you back into him, before weaving the other leg in between your own.

“You know you like it,” he murmured into your neck, squeezing his arms around you just in case you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. One hand traced absent-minded circles over the grooves of your spine as he breathed you in, warm and familiar against your chest. 

Yes, you thought, you’d risk any and everything for this exact moment. It was worth all the doubt and heartache, all the time spent replaying those moments in your head, unsure of the meaning behind his actions. You could be sure of it now.

“I do,” you agreed, threading your fingers through the softness of his hair. “I probably more than like you,” you added, tilting his face upwards to steal another kiss, giddy and chest swelling with affection. Perhaps you weren’t quite yet ready for that other four letter word, but you had no doubt you would be one day, and soon. He was all too willing to comply, letting his mouth mould against yours with the poise and patience of a saint. 

“I probably more than like you too,” he replied, punctuating his confession with one final kiss to the tip of your nose. It was enough for the serene smile on your face to persist, even past the arrival of sleep.

“I knew it.”

You cracked one eye open, trying to adjust to the light flooding in through the open door to your room. Chanyeol stood at the foot of your bed, grinning from ear to ear with what could only be described as a look of triumph as he took in the scene before him. The boy next to you stirred lightly, digging his face deeper into the pillow, reluctant to leave the realm of the sleeping. Chanyeol was not in the least sympathetic to his friend’s struggles, striding over to the window and pulling back the curtains with a clang. You winced as the full force of the morning sun barged in, and Baekhyun let out a soft noise of displeasure at the intrusion.

“I fucking knew it,” Chanyeol said again, quickly bringing you to your senses as you registered the weight of another body on top of your own. You made to remove yourself from him, fighting the flush creeping up your neck and face, but it was an effort which proved futile as he only tightened the arm around your waist, loath to let you go. 

“Can you be quiet? You’re going to wake the whole house,” you hushed, finally succeeding in untangling your legs from Baekhyun’s, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately.

“They’re already up. I came to call you for breakfast,” Chanyeol replied, the grin seemingly stuck to his face. “Which actually reminds me,” he began, before sticking his head out of the doorway to holler, “You better pay up, Jongin. And you too, Kyungsoo!”

“You bet on us?” came the groggy voice from the pillows behind you.

“What the hell, Chanyeol? I thought you said you didn’t go around blabbing about his feelings!” you exclaimed, indignant.

“To you. I never said anything about telling anyone else,” was his reply, smug and victorious at having outsmarted you.

Kyungsoo appeared in the doorway, donning a flour-covered apron, as if to confirm for himself that he was in fact a debtor to the taller boy. “Even if he didn’t say anything, it wasn’t all that hard to figure out,” he said lightly, surveying the room with curiosity and paying no mind to the shock painted on your face. How had everybody known about your now not-so-secret crush on Baekhyun except for the man himself? “Anyways, I only said that it would be unlikely to happen over this weekend, not that it was impossible. So Jongin is the only loser. Now come for pancakes.” And with that, he headed back towards his bowl of batter on the kitchen counter, chuckling at the sound of Jongin’s complaints against fulfilling his end of the wager.

Baekhyun, having somewhat freed himself from the clutches of sleep, rose to a sitting position and shot a drowsy scowl at his friend. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”

But even the expletive could not put a damper on Chanyeol’s mood, his smile never slipping. “You two should honestly be thanking me,” he said, to which you also shot him a glare. “Also, I’m happy for you and everything, but can you please keep the PDA to a minimum in front of the rest of us? I will lock you out of the house if you don’t.”

Baekhyun turned to you, the creases of the frown on his face slowly but surely smoothing out as he took you in, cheeks puffy and hair a mess from having just woken up. He had seen you in worse states, and definitely in better states, but none of that seemed to matter as he regarded you with nothing but fondness in his eyes. You were sure that your expression mirrored his, affection spreading throughout your entire body, reaching even the tips of your fingers and toes, at the sight of his tousled bed head, the sleepy droop of his eyes, the sweet pinkness of his lips. 

The sun was yours. There was no feasible way to stop the smile from blooming across your entire face.

Straight to voicemail.

You sigh, your eyes shutting seemingly of their own will, your head settling onto the top of the steering wheel. You feel it, the hot sting of tears threatening to slip past your closed eyelids and onto your cheeks, but you will yourself to stay composed for a little while longer. The parking garage is filled with other students milling around, and the thought of any of them seeing you in such a vulnerable state makes your stomach churn even more than it already is.

Your phone dings quietly and you open one eye to see the texts that've been sent.

Teaching rn! Everything okay?

You smile softly to yourself and pick up your phone, texting back quickly.

Sorry, I forgot your schedule. I just had a shitty morning

The reply is almost instantaneous.

I just have a faculty meeting after this class, why don’t you head to mine? Let yourself in, you know where the key is :)  I’ll be home right after <3

The butterflies that settle in your stomach are a familiar sensation ever since you started seeing Baekhyun, the history professor that teaches at the other university in your city. It had only been just shy of six months since you’ve been exclusively seeing each other. The hesitation that both of you felt about dating someone in the other’s position had only just started to fade away, but there was something undeniable about the way that he made you feel with something as simple as trusting you in his home while he’s out.

You let him know that you’re heading there before taking a couple of deep breaths to steady yourself. The drive to Baekhyun’s place is long, taking you all the way across town, but you use the time to try and put away the negative thoughts of the exam you just took, and probably bombed. With each minute that ticks away, you try not to picture the disappointment on your parents’ faces as you inevitably tell them about just how poorly you’re doing, try not to hear the thinly disguised jabs that they are sure to throw your way when you come back home for break. You try, you try, but ultimately fail.

Baekhyun’s little house sits at the end of a cul-de-sac, and you already find the tension in your shoulders bleeding away as you pull into the driveway, the sight of his little garden that the two of you started together in the front already putting you at ease. You unlatch the back gate and crouch next to the little stone figurines by the back door, turning over the dog to reveal the spare key. 

The second the door clicks shut behind you, you realize that you’ve never been here without Baekhyun. The silence is deafening, your footsteps sounding much too loud even with your shoes off. It’s strange without the sound of his humming as he flits about the kitchen, or the quiet crooning of his r&b playlist playing softly in the background. Strange, but not uncomfortable. You smile at the photobooth strip of the two of you on the fridge as you pass by, and the mug that you made for him at a pottery date on the kitchen counter, still half-full of tea from this morning. Little reminders of you scattered throughout his home in a way that makes your heart squeeze with fondness.

The pain and stress from this morning gives way to curiosity as you round the corner and pass by Baekhyun’s office, the door slightly ajar. You take a peek inside, not daring to step further than the threshold. It’s surprisingly cluttered, given the usual spotlessness of the rest of his home. Books lay haphazardly on his bookshelf, some of them open, messy handwriting scrawled in the margins. A stack of half-graded papers are strewn across his desk, and you laugh at the amount of red-inked smiley faces. Framed photographs are placed about the room, and you recognize some of his friends, his family, and some of his coworkers at the university. 

What gives you pause, though, is the small corkboard above his desktop littered with various papers and cards stuck to them. You recognize your own handwriting: a small note for his birthday, the tag from a bouquet of flowers you sent him, doodles that you snuck into his pocket one night. But there’s other things too: the receipt from your first date, movie ticket stubs, even a pressed flower you recognize from the park where you two had a picnic. The thought of Baekhyun working in this room: reading, grading, writing his papers, and then looking up and seeing evidence of you… It’s enough to make your cheeks heat up and you turn away, stepping back into more of the familiar territory of his house.

You find his well-loved, well-worn hoodie laying on his bed and you pick it up without a second thought, pulling it over your head and letting it drape you in its warmth. It smells like him: comforting and clean. Your head hits the pillow before you’re even aware it’s happening, and your eyes drift closed, exhausted and spent.

The gentle press of lips against your hair rouses you awake. You stretch out your limbs before your eyes open, your brain not quite catching up to your body until you’re greeted by the sight of Baekhyun, kneeling against the side of the bed. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before planting a kiss on your lips.

“Morning,” he says quietly. His eyes are soft, tired, thinly veiled concern hiding behind his dark irises. “Did you wait long?”

You shake your head, and your voice feels thick in your throat as you speak. As your head gets clearer, so do the memories of the morning’s exam. “I don’t think so. How was class?” You scoot over so he can join you on the bed. 

“It was fun,” he says, flopping down next to you. “I think we’re past all of the ‘boring’ history stuff so everyone’s more engaged.” He makes quotation marks around the word boring before propping his head up with one hand, the other playing with your hoodie strings. “But enough about me. What’s bothering you?”

You swallow. “My exam.”

Baekhyun exhales through his lips. “Your neuroscience one? It was this morning, right?”

You can feel the corners of your mouth trembling as you nod. “I did really bad, Baek,” you whisper.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He wipes away your tears as they fall with the pad of his thumb. “Did you get your grade back yet?”

“Not yet, but I just know it was really bad. I left the last page blank. I really needed to do well on this exam to get an A in the class.” You tuck your face into his chest, sniffling against his sweater. “My parents are gonna kill me. This is the second semester in a row that I’ve done terribly, and I’m graduating so soon. They already warned me about doing better.” You look up at him and wipe at your face with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, this probably sounds so stupid to you.”

The feeling of his arm against your back is firm. “It’s not stupid at all. I still think that my parents are going to kill me sometimes.” He pauses as you laugh wetly. “I can’t even imagine having to know all these things about the brain. Sometimes I would look over as you were studying and all of the diagrams would make me dizzy.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about 14th century medieval torture devices.”

Baekhyun laughs. “I couldn’t either. I focus on the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.”

“Nerd.”

“My point is.” He looks down at you, his eyes sparkling. “You’re one of the hardest working, smartest people I know. And I wish you wouldn’t be so hard on yourself, but it also shows just how much you take pride in your work and how determined you are to do well. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. And your grade on one exam doesn’t change that. It doesn’t make you any less of a smart, brilliant person.”

You blink through a fresh wave of tears and Baekhyun gasps, flustered, wiping them away with renewed vigor. 

“That wasn’t supposed to make you cry more!”

“That was… just really sweet. Thank you, Baekhyun.”

“You really ought to get used to me giving you compliments,” he says. “Haven’t you learned it comes with the territory by now?”

“It’s just embarrassing,” you mumble, your cheeks turning red. 

“Oh? It’s embarrassing when I say that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” He kisses your forehead. “Or that your jokes make me laugh harder than anyone else’s?” Your nose. “Or that I think about texting you the moment I wake up because I can’t wait to hear from you?”

He rolls you over onto your back, both of you laughing as you dodge his attempts to kiss your face. He finally lands one on your lips, an obnoxious smack that makes you roll your eyes. But then he kisses you there again, and again, each softer than the last, your giggles dying down and giving way for the sparks of arousal. Your eyes close softly as your fingers thread into his hair, moaning softly against his lips.

“Shit.” He pulls away and scans your face worriedly. “I’m sorry. You’re probably not in the mood.”

“No,” you swallow, tugging lightly at the hem of his sweater. “I want you to make me forget about it. Please?”

Baekhyun exhales softly, then nods. “What do you want me to do?”

“Anything,” you whisper. You tug the fabric over his head and run your hands down the firm expanse of his chest. “Just keep your glasses on.”

Baekhyun grins and kisses you, helping you undress until you’re completely bare beneath him, squirming slightly under the intensity of his gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, dragging his fingertips over your skin, over the crest of your breasts and the curve of your hips. His touch is soft and gentle, but leaves goosebumps in its wake all the same.

“Baek…” you whine, looking away.

“You said anything I wanted, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He cups your breasts in his hands, rolling your nipples underneath his thumbs. You gasp and arch into the touch, screwing your eyes shut out of embarrassment, shying away from his unrelenting attention. “I can’t get enough of your body,” he says, leaning down to suck one nipple into his mouth, his tongue laving over the stiffening bud. “Everything about it.”

His mouth travels lower, kissing your belly, your hip bone, down, down, down to your core. He settles between your thighs and parts your folds, dragging his thumb through your wetness. “You say you’re embarrassed but look at this, baby.” He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting the evidence of your arousal. The sensuality of the sight sends a sharp thrill of need up your spine. “You’re soaked. You like being complimented, don’t you?”

“I—”

He sucks your inner thigh harshly, making you yelp. “Tell the truth.”

“I— I like it,” you whimper.

“Good girl,” he coos, smirking when your thighs twitch. “You like that too, hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me when you’re close,” he says, before lowering his mouth onto your cunt.

His tongue delves into you with precision, depth. Licking into you as if though the act could remove every bit of self-doubt and self-consciousness from your being. His fingers press indents into the plush skin of your thighs, holding you in place. Your head hits the pillows, your fingers finding their way into his hair as though they belong there, pulling a muffled moan out of him when you tug on the strands. 

“Jesus,” he groans, lifting his mouth to seal his lips over your clit, sucking harshly. “You taste so fuckin’ good. So sweet.” You feel two of his fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking in deep, just as he flicks the tip of his tongue over the sensitive nub.

“Baek.” Your eyes flutter shut as he continues to alternate between firm licks and devastating sucks, his fingers crooking in come here motions inside of you. The wet noises of your slick cunt fill the room, and you would normally have half a mind to be embarrassed about it, but the way that Baekhyun’s looking up at you between your legs like you hung the moon and the stars makes those self-conscious worries fall away with each pass of his tongue.

The weight of your impending orgasm settles over you, your hips arching higher and higher into the wet heat of Baekhyun’s mouth. “I’m close, Baek, fuck.” 

“Eyes on me,” he says, voice dripping. “Lemme see that pretty face when you cum.”

It hits you like a tidal wave, dragging you under, Baekhyun’s gaze being your only anchor. Your voice leaves you in a hoarse gasp, and your fingers scrabble for purchase on the sheets below. While you come back to Earth, Baekhyun hovers over you and captures your lips in a nasty kiss, his tongue swiping past your bottom lip.

“How do you want me, angel?” he whispers.

You sit him up against the headboard and drag his pants and boxers down his legs, the tip of his cock leaking against his stomach. “You gonna take what you need from me?” he asks, planting his hands on your hips as you position yourself above him. “Fuck me until you cum again?”

“Mhm.” You drag the tip of his cock between your folds, breath hitching as the first inch of him sinks inside of you. “Want you to cum too.”

“With this pretty pussy around me?” He tilts his head back, the crown of his head hitting the headboard with a soft thump. “It won’t take long at all.”

He lets you set the pace, patiently drawing circles into your hip when you take a few moments to steady yourself after you sink all the way onto him. His breath is ragged, unstable, a low moan rising from the depths of his chest when you start to grind on him, rocking your hips back and forth on his cock. It feels empowering, fucking him like this. To have someone as unreal and beautiful as Baekhyun beneath you, chest flushed, sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead, looking up at you with devotion and awe. There’s no unease, no awkwardness. Just him.

Baekhyun tugs you closer to him and slips his tongue into your mouth, moaning when you pick up the speed of your hips, lifting yourself higher and slamming back down. “Fuuuck, angel,” he grunts. “You’re so good, so fucking good.”

You moan, high-pitched and needy. He nips at your bottom lip in response. “My girl’s so fucking pretty, so gorgeous. Look at you. My fuckin’ dream girl.”

“Baek, qu-quit it.” 

“I don’t think you mean that, your pussy fucking clenches when I talk.” He slips a hand between your bodies and brushes his thumb over your clit. You jerk against him, your head falling onto his shoulder. He knows what it means.

“So fucking hot how sensitive you are,” he grunts, planting his feet into the mattress as he thrusts up into you, hard. Once, twice, three times, until it’s a relentless, brutal pace. His finger rubs against your clit, sending sparks up the column of your spine.  “You gonna cum for me? You gonna cum all over my cock?”

You don’t answer, can’t answer. You just nod and whine wordlessly against his skin, nails digging into his back as your orgasm rips through you, your vision turning white around the edges. You cling to him as he cums, burying himself impossibly deeper inside of you. His cum seeps out of you, messy and filthy between your two bodies. 

Baekhyun rolls you over onto your back, kissing you gently to quiet your exhausted noise of protest. He leaves you for a brief moment, then comes back with a damp washcloth. The cloth is warm against your thighs as he cleans you up, humming softly under his breath.

You watch him for a bit in silence, taking in the moles on his face and the slight skew of his glasses, the gentle curve of his fingers and the warmth of his touch. You realize just how good you feel in this moment. Basking in the afterglow, yes, but also just how comfortable you are around him, how your troubles that seemed so world-ending this morning feel miles away now. 

“You’re so perfect,” you whisper.

Baekhyun pauses, his fingers hovering over your skin. He meets your gaze briefly, but then looks back down at the comforter almost as quickly as he looked at you. 

“You’re actually the smartest person I know,” you continue, sitting up. “The way you light up every room you walk into makes me so proud to be seen with you. The way you can talk to anyone and make them feel special. How all your students care about you, even if they hate history.”

You cup his jaw and tilt his face towards you. His face is burning crimson, but his eyes convey the depth of his gratitude. A soft look that makes your insides twist with butterflies and something more, something deeper. “You always know how to take care of me. And you’re so handsome.” You giggle when he pokes the tip of his tongue out at you, and he stays still when you kiss him.

“And I…” 

Your breath stutters, your heart hammering behind your ribs.

“I love you.”

Baekhyun beams, cupping your face with both hands. His eyes are misty, even though he’ll deny it vehemently later. He kisses you, unhurried, passionate. He kisses you with all the warmth of the sun and the time in the world. 

“I love you too,” he says. “So, so much. Now come on.” He tucks your hair behind your ear and pinches your cheek gently. “I brought over food from our favorite place. It’s probably cold by now.”

You follow him into the kitchen wearing his hoodie as he chatters on about something one of his students said in class, as though nothing has changed. And in a way, nothing has. All that’s changed is the exchange of words. He’s felt like home for a long, long time. 

bonus:

“I’m home,” Baekhyun calls out, shucking his shoes off while trying to balance the bags of takeout with his work bag. There’s no answer. 

Surely she would have told me if she decided not to come, he thinks, putting the food down on the dining table. And then, You idiot, her car’s in the driveway.

He peeks his head into the living room, shutting the door to his office as he passes it, but his house seems just as he had left it this morning. He heads into the bedroom and knocks softly on the door, calling your name.

And when he opens it, his heart melts.

Because curled up on his own bed, wearing his hoodie, is you. Fast asleep, safe from whatever had been troubling you this morning. Your face is so peaceful, the rise and fall of your breathing so steady and comforting that if he closed his eyes, he might have mistaken it for his own. 

All he wants in this moment is for time to stop. For you to be in your own world for a while, deep in your black dreams. He goes to your side and falls to his knees beside you, but he doesn’t dare reach out and disturb you, even though he wants so badly to caress your face and kiss you all over. For a few moments that feel like eternity, he sits just like this, wrapped up in the comfort of you. 

I love you, he thinks. I love you, I love you, I love you.

You stir in your sleep, as if you’ve heard him, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like his name. Baekhyun knows that he has to wake you, take you out of your sleep so that he can actually begin to care for you. 

All the same, he waits for a few moments longer, studying the way each eyelash curls perfectly onto your cheeks. He wonders if you know just how deeply and irreparably in love with you he is, even if he hasn’t yet said the words. 

The time will come. He doesn’t know when, or where it will happen, but he’s not in a hurry. He has a feeling that you’ll be in his life for a long, long time.