𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔶

“Baby, wanna help me grab some drinks?”

You nod against where you're nuzzled into Keeho’s shoulder, letting him pull you up from the couch by the hand to lead you to the kitchen. 

From where Jiung is sitting he can just barely see you two move around the small space to pour the drinks, and right as Jiung turns to shift his focus back to the crappy reality T.V. show they (Intak) put on, Keeho grips your waist and pulls you into his body. 

He tries to look away, he even turns his head to face the TV, but his eyes stay glued to where yours and Keeho’s lips lock. 

His mouth goes dry when your tongue darts out to lick into Keeho’s mouth, and when Keeho’s hands move from your waist, down your lower back, and over the swell of your ass to squeeze, he feels his soft cock tighten a bit in his pants. But most of all, he wishes that were him.

His gaze is ripped away when his body jerks into the armrest of the couch after Taeyang, who's sitting beside him, shoves him hard in the side. He whips around to fix him with a bewildered stare, but all Taeyang does is look from him, to the kitchen, then back to him with a stiff shake of his head. The message is clear: What the fuck are you doing?

His whole body burns with shame for being caught staring, and by Taeyang no less, who he’d reassured months ago that the “thing” he clearly has for you (after Taeyang caught him laughing a little too hard at one of your jokes) was nothing but a silly little crush, one he swore up and down he’d gotten over. 

Well, he hasn't—clearly—if the way he awkwardly shifts and crosses his legs to conceal the growing tightness in his pants is anything to go by. He avoids Taeyang’s eye contact like the plague and swallows down the lump in his throat when he hears him scoff under his breath. A jolt of irritation flickers through him at Taeyang’s reaction. It’s not like he wants to like one of his best friends girlfriends. He hates it. He hates the pit of guilt in his stomach that grows whenever he’s around you and Keeho, forced to watch him be the one to touch you, to hold you, to make you laugh and smile when he wishes it was him instead. And it’s not like he even has any animosity towards his friend, no—he’s happy for him. He just wishes he could have gotten to you first.

He doesn't glance at you when you cross in front of him with the tray of drinks or when you sit down and throw your legs over Keeho’s lap. In fact, he doesn't look at you for the rest of the night, not until you're closing the door behind the four members that decide to call it an early night. He knows he should go too, but he selfishly stays back just to spend a bit more time with you without Taeyang shooting lasers into his skull. 

You twist back around and throw him a smile that he almost audibly awes at, pausing to ask him where Keeho went.

“He said he had to take a call.” 

You nod and saunter over to plant yourself right beside him on the couch. He tenses when your knee brushes his thigh and attempts to inch it away without you noticing. Your perfume floods his senses and is close to infiltrating his self control, until he reels himself back in and immediately regrets his decision to stay. 

“I’ll head out too, let you two have your—” his attempts at getting up falter when your hand splays across his chest, pushing him down against the back of the couch. 

“Stay.”

Your hand smoothes all the way down his torso to settle on his thigh. He stares at it, his breaths turning shallow when you lightly squeeze the hard muscle there. His eyelids flutter at the contact, your warmth seeping through the denim so close to his—

He clears his throat and snaps back to reality. “R-Really, I should go.”  

You push your elbow onto the backrest of the couch to lean further into him, your chest nearly grazing his shoulder. 

“Why are you so eager to leave?” Your breath fans against his ear as you speak. “I barely got to talk to you tonight with everyone here.”

Jiung doesn't know what the fuck is going, all he can focus on is your hand climbing higher and higher on his thigh and the voice in his head screaming at him to push you away. He can't muster up the strength to, so he resorts to saying, “W-Well Keeho was hogging you the whole time,” with hopes that you’ll remember your boyfriend and retract your hand. 

You don't, you only smile at him all smug and knowing and something about it makes him feel like he’s fallen into a trap.

“Oh, how selfish of him to keep me all to himself.” 

His heart thuds harder at your condescending tone, his stomach clenching with a sharp jolt when your hand brushes over his bulge.

When his breath hitches you apply more pressure, pressing down onto his boner, whispering against where your lips are now hovering over his neck, “Good thing he’s not here right now.” 

You press a chaste kiss right over the prominent vein pushing through his skin, waiting to see if he’ll push you off and when he doesn't, you part your lips and dart your tongue out to flick over his salty skin, trailing wet kisses upward. 

He shudders out a gasp when your hand begins to knead his hard cock through his pants. The pressure mixes with the sensitivity on his neck to dismiss almost all rationale from his brain, and with the miniscule amount remaining, he weakly protests your touch. “We s-shouldn’t be doing this, he’s right in the other—”

A whimper filters out from him when you nibble at his earlobe and tug it between your teeth. You hum for him to continue but all he does is drop his head back into the couch, the last of his defenses crumbling. “Oh, god…”

Adrenaline courses through you at how quickly he loses all inhibition from just a few light touches. There was also something undeniably exciting about knowing how little he tried to fight back despite there being a big possibility he’d get caught kissing his best friend's girlfriend that sets your senses on fire. 

With two fingers at his chin, you turn his head so you can take in the guilty look of bliss on his face before you lay your lips over his. Soft and warm, they part instinctively for you and you take his bottom one between yours, sucking it into your mouth to draw out a broken sigh. 

You throw a leg over his lap to straddle his waist, his hands hesitantly raising to rest over your thighs while your own press against his lower stomach, bunching his shirt into your palm while you slide your hands up. 

Your weight settling over his lap is almost enough to rid him of the thought of Keeho entirely; morals be damned. You felt way too good, especially when you arched into him, your clothed cunt dragging teasingly across his boner. 

Your hand cradles the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair—his lips unmoving against where yours are still kissing him.

A crease forms between his brows when he realizes both your hands have disappeared under his shirt to run over the lean muscle of his torso, which means—

Jiung’s eyes fly open. He wrenches his mouth away from yours and twists his head back as far as he can to see Keeho peering down at him from his spot behind the couch, his expression unreadable. He shoves you off of him as fast as he can, wincing when he hears you land with a muffled, “Mngph!” and darts off the couch.

“Keeho! I’m—I’m so sorry! I didn’t—she—I’m sorry!” he stumbles over his words to form an adequate enough apology. “Please, I’ll do anything just don’t be…” His words falter when Keeho breaks out into a smile.

“Relax, Jiung,” Keeho says, his voice calm as he rounds the couch to sit on its arm beside where you pull yourself back into a sitting position. “It’s okay.”

Jiung’s cheeks flame at the way you both look at him, not a hint of shock or anger present in either one of you. If anything, your gazes are heated and he watches Keeho press a delicate kiss to your forehead before turning back to face him. 

“How… how can it be okay?” Jiung whispers, eyes darting between you. “I just betrayed you—”

Keeho cuts him off with a mischievous, crooked smile that does little to soften the shock from his next words.

“We know you like her.”

He freezes in place, his mind racing a mile a minute. “What?”

“We know you have a thing for her. We’ve known for a while, actually.”

Jiung’s embarrassment momentarily eclipses at the understanding in Keeho’s voice, more confused than ever. “And you’re not… angry?”

His eyes dart to you when you stand and approach him. He watches your movements carefully, looking back nervously to see Keeho’s reaction when you reach out to grasp his hands in yours. All Keeho does is lean forward to rest his elbows on his knees, staring at him intently but still, with no anger.

“Why would we be angry?” You ask. “You can’t help your feelings. It doesn’t have to be an issue.”

Jiung stares, completely taken aback and at a loss for what is happening. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what’s going on.”

He lets you tug him slowly back to the couch where Keeho rises to stand.

Keeho wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back against his chest, both your hands still intertwined with Jiung’s, as he speaks, “We were thinking… It can be more for you… if you want.”

The implication hung in the air, tantalizingly alluring. His tense muscles relax a fraction now that he's sure that Keeho isn't upset, but he's still as confused as ever at whatever is being offered to him.

“More?” He repeats for clarification.

“I’m just going to be blunt, she wants you to fuck her—”

“Keeho!” You cut him off with a shove that has him falling back to the couch with an unrestrained laugh. Jiung is pleased to see the flush that blooms on your cheeks at the exposure of your own little secret; his cock gives a needy jerk in his pants.

You turn back to him with a bashfulness that is too cute for what the situation calls for. “I’d be lying if I said I haven't thought about you in that way, and I thought it could be fun…? If you're down, of course.”

It all sounds a little too good to be true. The fantasy of you he’d guilty used to pleasure himself for months being presented to him on a silver platter; it made the heat in his gut flare into an eager burn. But there was one last thing he couldn't wrap his mind around.

“And what's in it for you?” He asks, nodding in Keeho’s direction. 

Keeho leans back on the couch with his hands behind his head, bucking his hips slightly to get comfortable, grinning up at his friend. “I get to see my girl pleased and happy.”

You scoff at him. “Don’t act like you don't want this too.”

Keeho shrugs his shoulders, not disagreeing, and lets the silence settle around you. You wait for Jiung to come to his final decision. He doesn’t trust his voice to speak, so he nods once and you exhale a happy, excited sigh. 

He clears his throat and asks, “So how does this work?”

He stares blankly as you and Keeho exchange knowing glances, and Keeho jumps back up from the couch to settle behind you again, his front pressed to your back. Your eyes flutter shut when he snakes a large hand around your body, so low on your belly that his fingers graze where you need him most, and he pushes you back to grind his erection into your ass. 

You disconnect one of your hands from Jiung’s to reach behind and wrap around his head, pulling his face into the crook of your neck. He makes sure that Jiung is watching while he peppers wet open-mouth kisses on your skin until you're panting and your head falls back on his shoulder. 

Jiung watches on, entranced by your needy little sounds and the responsiveness of your body to Keeho's.

“First of all, she likes to be taken care of,” Keeho says, drawing Jiung’s attention back to him. “You’re gonna help me take care of her, right Jiung?”

He nods and swallows down the flood of saliva in his mouth when he feels you give the hand you're still holding a squeeze before tugging him forward until his feet brush yours.

“You can be a little rough with her, but not too much. She’s sensitive. She also likes being told what to do, don’t you baby?” Keeho asks and you nod obediently. “Good girl. Why don’t you unzip his pants and feel him up a bit? Gotta make sure he’s as hard as possible for later.”

For later? The mystery of what is to come sends a wave of heat rushing through Jiung’s body. You release his hand, your fingers deftly flying to undo the button of his jeans and drag his zipper down. 

The outline of him is visible, pressing through the fabric of his underwear. You slip your hand beneath the waistband, wrapping your fingers around his cockhead. He jerks at the contact, his hips bucking into your grip as you slowly stroke him. 

“See how worked up he is already?” Keeho murmurs into your ear. “All that time watching us… he’s been waiting for this.”

He couldn’t even deny it now that he knew how obvious he was being. He could only indulge in your soft hand pumping him just right.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his eyes screwing shut for a moment before he forces them open when Keeho’s fingers grip his jaw.

“She also loves being kissed. Don’t forget, or she gets whiney.” 

Keeho guides Jiung’s jaw forward until his lips meet yours again. He kisses you deeply now without the previous shock and hesitation, tasting the sweet lemonade you were drinking earlier. 

He pulls his hand back when Jiung cradles your face in his hands, your own slightly picking up speed in response.

Keeho’s hands return to your waist, slipping beneath your shirt and inching up until they graze over your nipples. He circles the sensitive flesh with a featherlight touch until they stiffen into peaks. He takes each between two fingers, twisting and pulling until you’re a moaning mess. His hands fall back to the hem of your shirt and he tugs it up, separating the kiss, to undress you. 

Jiung’s eyes blaze at how ruined you already look, your lips swollen and your eyes half lidded and hazy.

Keeho’s hands return to cup your tits, squeezing and rubbing over the already sensitive pebbled skin. You whimper and lean back further against him, your hand going slack against Jiung’s cock.

“See? I told you she’s sensitive,” Keeho chuckles, “One time I made her come just from playing with her tits—”

You whine and push your ass back roughly against him, your lips curling into a frown. 

“You’re embarrassed? You don’t want Jiungie knowing how easy you are, baby?” Keeho doubles down, forcing your writhing body to still in his grasp.

“Kyo please just—” you choke out a gasp when his fingers pinch your nipples. You clamp your thighs shut, trying to satiate the aching throb that has been building. “P-Please…”

“Please? Please what? You want us to fuck you already?”

You whimper through a nod and Jiung watches the exchange with wide, blown out eyes, his cock steadily throbbing where your hand was still gripping him. 

“Why don’t you tell him how you want us to fuck you, hmm? Why you are so eager to have him join us?” 

Keeho’s hands finally cease their torture and slide down to your hips, giving you the chance to speak. You look at Jiung who’s waiting headily for your response. As if remembering where your hand was, you resume your slow, careful strokes as you muster up the courage to speak.

“I… want your cocks,” you say, averting your gaze down to where you’re stroking him to avoid his eye contact. You feel suddenly timid under his watchful, heated stare, the questions too daunting to outright ask. But as usual, Keeho is there to force it out of you.

“C’mon princess. Tell him what you really want. Don’t be shy now.”

You huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes glazing over as the words come out shaky and unsure. “Want both your cocks in me together.”

Jiung ruts into your loose grip at the thought of both him and Keeho buried inside of you, filling you completely. A raw, primal want floods through him that sends his heart hammering against his ribs. 

“Fuck, really?” he manages to choke out.

You nod, your cheeks flushing a deep, telling crimson. Keeho smiles against your neck, grazing it with his teeth before biting down playfully.

“That’s what she wants, Jiung. Double the fun. She wants her cunt stuffed with cock so, what do you say? You agree?”

With your hand stroking him so deliciously, his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows hard and utters the word you’ve been waiting for, “Yes.”

Keeho smiles at him with satisfaction, and leans down to whisper in your ear, “Pull him out sweetheart.”

You follow his command and tug Jiung’s aching cock out of his pants, watching with hungry eyes as it hangs out of the fabric, long and curved slightly, flushed a bright, angry red at the tip. Your mouth falls open in a breathy gasp at how pretty he is. Behind you, Keeho’s hips buck into you.

“I told you he’d be the right size.”

Jiung’s head sways, dizzy at the prospect that you two have already consulted over whether or not his dick was the right match for your freaky escapades. He shoots Keeho a questioning glance but Keeho only shrugs.

“We’ve all seen each other naked before. Did you expect me not to remember the size of your dick?” Keeho shoots back. He chuckles against your shoulder when Jiung’s lip curls at him, and he quickly adds on, “If I remember correctly, you were watching both of us make out in that kitchen, or am I wrong?”

His cock pulses at the memory of Keeho’s big hands gripping you and his mouth parting to accept your tongue. A part of him wonders why he’s never felt any jealousy towards Keeho. Now, the answer is clear, but his ego is too big to admit it.

Keeho gives him an annoyingly smug wink, his hands curling into your bottoms to inch them and your panties down your thighs. “We have to prep her first. Gotta stretch her out enough to take both of us.”

He sits you down on the couch and beckons Jiung forward to get a better view of him pulling them fully down your legs. He gently parts your thighs until they’re spread open wide, your weeping cunt on full view. 

Jiung gawks at the amount of arousal that coats your heat, watching as a heavy bead of your slick gathers and drips onto the couch beneath you. Your clit peaks out from its hood, hard and pulsing, desperate for attention. He reaches down to grip himself at the base, squeezing hard then stroking to satisfy the pleasure coiling in his stomach. 

Keeho’s finger prods through your folds, tracing a lazy path through your slit to collect your wetness and spreading it over your clit. You whimper, your legs attempting to clench shut, but he holds them open with his other hand, his fingers digging roughly into your thigh. 

“Look at her,” Keeho murmurs, also taken by how pretty your dripping cunt looks, never tiring of seeing how wet you get. He inches his finger down to rub at your hole, circling his finger until he presses in, breaching the tough muscle that pushes against him. “So perfect and so fucking tight. I don’t know how she’s gonna take both of our cocks. Can barely take me alone, but we’ll make it work, right darling? Your greedy cunt is gonna take two cocks?”

You don’t hear any words, all you can focus on is his finger curling deep to press against that spongy spot in you, your eyes rolling back at the shock of pleasure.

Your cunt clenches when Keeho withdraws his finger, offering it up in Jiung’s direction. “Wanna taste?”

He doesn't think twice before he sinks to his knees between where you both are sitting on the couch, his stare fixing on the glistening essence coating Keeho’s finger. He grabs Keeho’s wrist and takes the soaked digit into his mouth, his lips closing to fully taste your sweet and musky flavor. He sucks slowly, his tongue swirling, his eyes fluttering shut as he savors the taste. 

He misses the look of astonishment that you and Keeho share. When he’s lapped up every last bit of you, he pulls off with a soft pop.

Keeho chuckles darkly at him, “I meant you can eat her out, but that works too.”

The blush that had just left him returns, deeper than before. He shoots Keeho a glare, his jaw tightening. “You’re such an asshole,” he mutters.

“You guys love me.” Keeho stands over you both to work open his belt, and gestures to Jiung. “Go ahead, open her up. I always have to prep her to take me.” 

He doesn’t have to be told twice. His hands grip your thighs and he leans forward with a gentle sweep of his tongue through your folds that has you gasping, your fingers threading through his hair to push him harder against you. The taste of you combined with the way your hips tilt up to meet him unleashes something in him.

He moans into your cunt, his tongue circling your clit with a growing confidence before dipping lower to tease your entrance. He drinks you in and you give an experimental grind over his tongue that has his nose bumping pleasantly against your bundle of nerves.

You squeeze your nipple with your free hand, your gaze falling on Keeho who’s watching the scene unfold, now bare of any clothes and pumping his cock from base to tip.

“Slip a few fingers in, Jiung,” he instructs, “Stretch her open.”

Jiung doubles his efforts, his lips sealing around your clit, sucking gently between the flick of his tongue around the sensitive nub. He pushes two fingers against your entrance until they slip inside, curling and scissoring them to loosen you up. Your back arches, a sweet little cry slipping through your lips when he pulls his fingers out just to plunge right back in. The pleasure builds, the muscles in your belly tightening as you teeter on the edge.

Jiung boldly adds a third finger even as he struggles to pump them all into you, and it’s enough to send you over the edge. Your mouth falls open into a silent scream while you convulse over him, your vision blanking into a bright, white light for a moment.

He pulls off while you slump against the couch, still shuddering through the aftershocks of your orgasm. Keeho moves to stand beside him, and when Jiung looks up, his jaw goes slack at how big Keeho is, his hand barely able to curl around his girth. He turns back to your fluttering pussy, questioning exactly how they were both going to fit in you.

“Think she’s ready for me?” Keeho asks, his voice raspy and low.

The question isn't directed towards you, but you feel the need to reassure them that you’re still eager to take them. “I am,” you slur, your head lolling back against the cushion.

Keeho grins affectionately at you. “That’s my girl.” He moves to sit beside you on the couch, pulling you into a deep, healing kiss before he gently maneuvers you over his lap. He settles your back against his chest and rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs against your ear, his hand patting your hip. “I know you’re tired, but I need to slip it in.”

With a weak, shuddering breath, you raise yourself up, wrapping one arm around his shoulder for support while Keeho guides himself to your soaked entrance. The broad head of his cock nudges against you. 

“Easy now,” he coo’s, helping you sink down.

A desperate, filthy noise escapes you when he fills you, his thickness stretching you wider. There was little resistance thanks to the obscene amount of wetness coating your folds, and how Jiung worked you open. When you’re finally seated fully on him, your bodies flush, Keeho groans and bites into your shoulder. “Fuck, don’t even need lube, do you, princess? You’re so fucking wet.”

Jiung watches, mesmerized, as Keeho begins to move slowly, his hips rolling upward into you. Jiung quickly rids himself of the remainder of his clothes, his own cock aching and neglected watching Keeho fuck you.

Sensing his need, Keeho’s gaze snaps up to him. “Come here,” he orders, his voice leaving no room for argument.”

Jiung eagerly moves forward, fitting himself between Keeho’s parted legs. He braces a knee on the couch, his heart racing excitedly when you reach out to lay a hand on his chest. Keeho stills his movements and nods at him, his own control fraying when you squeeze around his cock. 

“Okay, Jiung, go slow. Real slow. We’re gonna fill her up together.”

Jiung nods and lines himself up, pressing the head of his cock to nudge against your swollen folds. He presses down against Keeho’s cock, his lips parting in a breathy whine at the contact, Keeho’s velvety cock soft and smooth against his own. He tries to inch in, the first attempt unsuccessful as his cock slips to glide against your pulsing clit, leaving you writhing.

Keeho grips your hips tight in his hands. “Stay still, baby. Just breathe through it… Come on, let Jiung’s cock in.”

“Wait,” Jiung interjects, his voice strained. “Just let me…”

His fingers slide along Keeho’s cock to your entrance, pressing to enter in alongside him. You whimper at the precise pressure from his fingertips against your walls.

“You’re doing so good,” Jiung whispers, rubbing his free hand over your belly to soothe the stretch. He speaks softer than Keeho, approaching you with care in comparison to his friend's rougher demeanor.

Your nails dig into his chest when slides in another finger that you suck in easily, curling and scissoring you just like before until he’s knuckle deep. He listens to your punched-out whines as your body yields to the stretch. 

Jiung glances up to find your eyes soaked with tears, your cheeks flushed red. His heart squeezes at how fucked out you look and he slips his fingers out to see the ruined look intensify. He grips his cock harder and presses himself back to where Keeho’s disappearing in you. He pushes his hips forward, and the three of you cry out in tandem when he breaches your hole, the tip slipping in.

“F-Full—” you manage to croak out at the painful stretch. “‘S too m-much.”

“You’re gonna take it,” Keeho soothes, kissing your shoulder. “This is what you wanted. So be a good girl and take it.”

You whimper at his harsh words and nod, giving Jiung the green light to sink further into you. He does, sliding in deeper until only half of his cock is left, a groan ripping through him at the crushing tightness. He could feel Keeho, hot and throbbing, right alongside him, your gummy walls straining around both cocks. The sensation was mind-bending.

“Oh my fucking god,” Keeho mewls, “You’re stretched so wide. Doing so good, taking us in your tight, pretty cunt.”

Jiung slips his hands under the back of your knees, pressing your thighs against your chest to fold you in half. With one last, careful push, he slides in as deep as he can go, only an inch left not pushed in you. You sob openly, a raw broken sound at the overwhelming sensation of your pussy stretched to its absolute limit. 

For a moment, no one moves to give you time to adjust, the three of you breathless. Keeho’s forehead rests on your neck while Jiung’s breaths come in ragged pants. You are barely conscious, your body impaled on them the only thing tethering you to earth.

Keeho was the first to stir, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your neck. “How is it, baby? You’re stuffed with cock, just like you wanted,” He mumbles, his voice thick with awe and lust. “Is it everything you were hoping for?”

Jiung’s hands tremble where he holds your legs, struggling to remain still in the suffocating, divine heat when your walls never cease their fluttering around them, a desperate, rhythmic clench that threatens to undo him completely. 

“C-Can’t…move,” you slur, words coming out jumbled. “So f-full.”

“It’s okay, princess. You don’t have to do anything,” Keeho reassures, his hips giving the tiniest rock that makes Jiung bite his lip at the exquisite drag. “Just take it for us, all you have to do is take it.”

You cry out when Keeho gives a sharper thrust, a fresh wave of pleasure filtering through the pain. Jiung finds his voice, his gaze locking onto the filthy sight of you folded open so vulnerably and stuffed full. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers. “So perfect.”

Keeho draws back an inch, then pushes forward again, his movements forcing Jiung’s cock to shift inside you as well. Jiung mirrors Keeho’s action, pulling out when he’s situated back in, taking turns fucking into you. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jiung groans, his head dropping forward. The friction was unlike anything he’s ever felt.

“That’s it,” Keeho praises, sliding a hand to wrap around your throat from behind. “Just like that, your greedy cunt is swallowing us so good.”

Your eyes, barely open, drop down to watch them thrust into you, their movements shallow with barely any room to move. Every nerve felt like it was on fire, your body alight with a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. You could feel the coil tightening quick again in your stomach, your climax building fast. 

You words dissolve into meaningless sounds, all you could manage was a stream of broken babbles. “Ah—ngh—gonna c-come…”

Keeho’s hand tightens around your throat. “We’re fucking you stupid, huh? Can’t even form a thought.” 

Jiung’s hips falter at the tears streaming down your face, your jaw slack and open, his cock swelling from the sight alone as Keeho continues, his thrusts growing harder. He feels the overwhelming need to kiss you, remembering Keeho’s earlier advice. He leans forward and slots his lips between yours, kissing you even as your mouth falls open in a shaky moan.

All at once, the coil snaps. You keen as your back arches away from Keeho’s hold, your toes curling at the white-hot current that short-circuits any remaining thought.

The intense, clenching pressure was enough to force Jiung’s own orgasm out of him, his movements stilling completely with Keeho’s cock rubbing against him, coaxing his own to empty deep inside you in hot, endless spurts. 

“F-fuck Keeho!” Jiung gasps, his body shaking when Keeho starts hammering into you, his thrust turning brutal and short, chasing his own high, still milking the remainder of Jiung’s cum out of him.

You were overstimulated beyond belief, trembling uncontrollably as the aftershocks continue to ripple through you. Just as you think the orgasm finally subsides, a new, sharper wave begins to build, your body bowing in sharp twitches. Your oversensitive nerves scream for relief.

Jiung buckles forward at the new tremor of your cunt. “S-shit Keeho… she’s gonna…” he trails off, clenching his eyes shut.

“Not done yet, are you, princess? Want to give me one more?” His hand slides from where it was gripping your belly to find your swollen clit. He presses hard against it and you jolt with a wanton gasp.

“Ah! Kyo, no—please, no more—”

“Shh,” he soothes, his touch relentless, circling the throbbing bud with firm pressure. “One more and that’s it, you can do it baby. Do it for us.”

Your vision spots, your mind goes fuzzy, and when Keeho pinches your clit, your third orgasm hits with a violent rupture. Your body convulses, a hot gush of release soaking Keeho’s hand and their bodies beneath you.

Jiung marvels at the sight of you squirting, his softening cock throbbing at the sight.

It’s exactly what Keeho needs to bring his own release. With a guttural roar, he slams his hips up into you one final time, his body stiffening as his cum mixes with yours and Jiung’s to coat your walls.

No one dares to move. Keeho stays in deep, Jiung nestling against him, both of them still partially hard inside you as the last of Keeho’s tremors subside. Jiung is the first to pull out, slow and careful, feeling the tight drag as he withdraws, slipping free with a wet squelch. He kneels back, his dazed eyes watching the thick flow of cum seep from your stretched hole.

You sob at the hollowness and loss of their combined fullness. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jiung whispers, his voice hoarse. He moves forward, his hands gentle on your hips. Keeho, understanding, gives a final, tender kiss to your shoulder before relaxing his hold and helping Jiung to ease you off of his softening cock.

The moment his tip slips out, the remainder of your releases floods out, dripping down over Keeho’s stomach. 

They lay you down on the cushions, your body completely boneless, a trembling, oversensitive mess. You stare blankly at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with the emptiness and the faint soreness that was already settling in your muscles.

Keeho leans forward to press a kiss into your hair while Jiung rubs soothing circles into your thigh.

They stare at the breathtaking sight of your pussy slightly gaping, swollen and glistening, painted with streaks of white fluid. 

“Fuck…” Jiung breaths, his strokes turning worshipful on your thigh.

Keeho’s gaze drips down, and he lets out a soft, incredulous scoff. “Jiung, what the fuck? How are you still hard?”

Jiung blinks stupidly and looks down, his cheeks heating at the sight of his cock still half-hard, stirred back to life by your wrecked state.

You hear the words, “Still hard,” and your heavy-lidded eyes shift, a spark of interest lighting in their hazy depths. “Hmm?” you slur, turning your head towards Jiung.

Jiung’s eyes widen in panic, disbelief clouding his features at how you still are interested in taking more even after being fucked into oblivion.

Keeho bursts out laughing and leans in to capture your lips in a messy, languid kiss. When he pulls back, he’s still grinning. “I think you’re done for tonight baby. Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open.”

You pout, the expression adorable on your wrecked face. Ignoring Keeho, you turn to press a sleepy kiss to Jiung’s lips, nuzzling into him when his arms wrap around your frame protectively.

Keeho watches the two of you, smiling fondly and content. He lets out a long, happy sigh and stretches back on the couch, fixing Jiung with a satisfied smile. “What did I tell you? Double the fun.” 

Knowing what he knows now, Jongseob should have gone to bed earlier that night like he’d originally planned.

⸝⸝

“Jongseob has no game, we can’t make him do it.”

Jongseob looked up from his phone at the mention of his name. “Make me do what?”

His friends were scattered in the living room of the Lambda Chi Alpha house in various states of intoxication, the empty bottles of beer and cups littered on the floor as evidence. Soul was playing on his DS, Jiung was trying to keep the area clean while Intak kept adding to the mess with more solo cups and crumbs, Theo was laid flat on the ground face-down, and Keeho was on the couch looking straight at Jongseob with a smile that was equally unnerving and punchable.

“Theo and I were just talking about that girl from our class,” Keeho explained.

Jiung tied up the plastic bag full of garbage and put it aside before he made his way to join the deformed circle. “The one from calc?”

“No, the hot but annoying one from econ,” Intak said.

Theo made a groaning sound to input his disdain.

It was hard not to know the girl they were talking about. The one who was insanely smart but also insanely insufferable and apparently the source of great despair for both Theo and Keeho, who had to put up with her every Monday mornings and makes it everyone’s problems on Monday nights when they’re all gathered at the house for takeout. So yes, Jongseob was very familiar with the girl with overbearing tendencies and a know-it-all attitude that was not only a problem for Keeho and Theo, but for him too from how often he had to hear about it. He’d started subconsciously resenting her just from the stories.

“Okay,” Jongseob said, putting his phone down. “What does my lack of game have anything to do with her?”

“We had a theory,” Theo said as he pushed himself up to his knees, brushing his hair out of his face with his hands. “Maybe the reason she’s so wound up is because no one’s unwinding her.”

Jiung scrunched his nose in disgust, succinctly mirroring Jongseob's internal emotion at the thought. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“It’s a valid theory,” Intak defended. “People with no sexual outlet are usually more cranky.”

“But the problem is she’s so cranky that no one wants to sleep with her,” Keeho added, and Jongseob had the unsettling feeling he knew where this was going. “Hence my plan.”

Jongseob narrowed his eyes at Keeho. “Don’t tell me you were planning on pimping me off to your self-proclaimed nemesis to make your life easier.”

Keeho rolled his eyes with a laugh. “No, we’ve established you have no game. That’s exactly why I wasn’t going to offer you.”

Jongseob scowled at him, offended. “I totally have game.”

Keeho’s smile turned into a wolfish grin. “Oh yeah? You wanna take the bullet for us then?”

“No, I’m not sleeping with her for this. I’m not a pig. You do it.”

“No, she hates me and Theo.”

“I’ll do it,” Intak offered with a sleazy grin. “I like ‘em feisty anyways.”

Theo scoffed as he leaned back against the arm of the couch. “She would never go for the campus slut. Jiung might work though.”

Jiung immediately stood up at the mention of his name. “Absolutely not. I want no part of this,” he said as he turned and abandoned them for the kitchen.

Soul, who’d been quietly gaming away, pipes up from where he was curled up on the bean bag. “Isn’t this a little… mean? Talking about her like this?”

Keeho waved his hand dismissively at Soul. “She’s meaner. Way meaner.” He then turned to Jongseob. “You might just be our last shot then.”

“I already said no.”

“You don’t have to sleep with her,” he amended. “But for the love of god, please just get in there and loosen her up or something.”

“Are we even sure she’s capable of love?” Theo wondered aloud, looking up melodramatically at the ceiling. 

Intak tried to butt in again. “I could make her fall in love with me in a month.”

“I bet two hundred that she murders you before that happens,” Theo retorted drily, ignoring Intak’s offended cry as he looked at Jongseob again with narrowed, calculating eyes. “I bet a hundred you wouldn’t even last a month just dating her. She’s a nightmare.”

Keeho fixed him with the same stare, sizing him up. “I’d give him two. Seobie’s stronger than he looks.”

Now this felt a little ridiculous. He’d heard about her from other people too; sure, the girl seemed pretty difficult, but maybe she was just stuck in a perpetual bad day. She probably had a good side to her like everyone else did; maybe she just didn’t feel like showing it. She wasn’t obligated to. And the competitor in him was stirring at the first sniff of a challenge.

“There’s no way she’s that bad,” Jongseob said, crossing his arms. 

“Have you been listening to any of the stories I’ve been telling you guys for the past four months?”

“Not really.”

Keeho shoved his finger in Jongseob’s face. “Rude.”

Jongseob swatted his hand away and looked at Theo. “Four hundred if I can last by the end of next semester. I’m not sleeping with her though.” Four hundred can get him that bass guitar he’s been wanting forever and Theo was rich enough so he might as well have taken the chance. 

Theo grinned at him, conniving and cocksure. “Bet.”

Keeho whistled, an impressed look on his face as he leaned back on his arms. “You’re brave.”

Jongseob shrugged and turned his attention back to his phone. “I just really doubt she’s that bad.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

He remembers eating those words after meeting you for the first time.

⸝⸝

Jongseob had signed up for the newsletter club when the semester started, which he learned from Theo was composed of a handful of people and, more importantly, led by you. He had high hopes going in; he needed more extracurriculars on his resume and it was the perfect way to connect with you. A win-win situation. And the rules for the bet that were outlined to him were that he had to start dating you within the first month and the relationship had to last until the last day of class for the year.

But after just that first day with you, he could tell why you got the bad rap that you did.

You were curt with your introductions and sent everyone right to work with homework of all things, on the basis that you needed to evaluate whether they were good enough to stay on the club despite the fact that everyone already had to go through the application and interview process. 

He could excuse it as you just being extra thorough, but when he’d gone to you for clarification on the topic (and to just get a chance to talk with you), you’d waved him away with a quick, “If you’re so good, you’ll figure it out.” 

You refused to talk to the new joiners any further, stating you had more important things to do than babysit. You were cold, distant, snippy, full of yourself, and wore your brows perpetually furrowed in concentration or anger or whatever the emotion was that you always carried on your face. Everything that everyone claimed you were.

He’s not sure why he didn’t listen to them. It would’ve saved him all the trouble.

But he was in it now, and he wanted that bass bad. So what if he had to go through a little psychological torture.

When Theo had welcomed him home with a “How was the first day?” and a knowing smirk, Jongseob had just flipped him off before locking himself away in his room to get cracking on your assignment.

He didn’t expect it to be as difficult and as long as it was, and it had to be handwritten for whatever reason. It was hard enough that by the next week, only two of the six new joiners had come back.

And when he tried to turn his assignment in, you handed it right back to him without so much as a glance.

“The fact that you’re still here means you have what it takes,” you said, turning back to your laptop and waving him away.

Jongseob stared at you, his jaw slacked. “I worked on this for days,” he starts slowly. “I gave up so many hours of sleep for this and you’re not even gonna read it?”

You looked up at him, your fingers still typing away on your laptop. “That’s how this industry works,” you said. Your hands paused over the keyboard for a moment. “Hours of tireless work can end up scrapped. It might not see the light of day and just collect dust in a corner. If you can’t deal with that, then this place isn’t for you.”

His jaw ticked. The sleeplessness had weakened his inhibitions and there was nothing stopping the ire seeping through his tight words. “This is just a club,” he stated, teeth clenched.

Everyone in the club room froze as soon as the words left his lips. 

Your face turned to stone, the cold dialed to an eleven, and Jongseob immediately regretted his words. “Is that so?” You asked, your voice level despite the anger coming alive in your eyes. You leaned forward, folding your arms on the table, and Jongseob suddenly felt small despite the fact that he was looking down on you from where he stood in front of your desk. “If this is just a club to you, maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

Maybe I shouldn’t, he nearly said. But that wouldn’t work. He had to be here for this to work even though this made him want to turn around and never look back again. 

He should’ve ran back then.

He swallowed his words and shook his head, forcing his eyes to the ground in submission. “No. I’m sorry, it’s not just a club,” he said, though he didn’t believe the words. 

He needed to do what it took to be on your good side even if you already looked like you hated his guts after exchanging just a few words, and so the seeds of doubt were already planted in his mind.

Your eyes narrowed at him, like you didn’t quite believe him. “Get to work,” you ordered, and Jongseob had to physically bite down on his tongue to hold himself back.

In the name of his future bass, he obeyed and got to work. 

𓆩⟡𓆪

Jongseob had nearly quit a few weeks later. The work you’d been dumping on him is so much more than what you’d been giving the other new guy. It didn’t take much to figure out that you actually did hate him. All it took was that one comment that he was really regretting let slip past his tongue, although he didn’t see what the fuss about it was. 

He’d tried to smooth things over and tried to talk to you but you were unreceptive to all of his attempts. All you talked about is work and articles and interviews and there was just no opportunity for him to steer the conversation towards anything productive for his quest. You would just consistently shut him down and tell him to get to work.

He’s said this much to Soul, who was sitting on his bed and listening politely while Jongseob paced his room. 

“You should ask her about what she’s interested in,” Soul suggested after Jongseob’s rant. “Everyone likes talking about what they’re passionate about.”

Jongseob threw his hands up in frustration. “I’ve tried! She doesn’t talk about anything but the damn club.”

“That’s because she’s passionate about the club,” Soul pointed out as he pulled his knees to his chest. “Ask about why she likes writing. People like it when people are interested in them.”

Jongseob stopped pacing and turned to stare at his best friend. “Oh. That’s… kind of obvious.”

“Maybe I should’ve taken the bet,” Soul joked with a giggle. “I’m better with people than you.”

Jongseob bristled at that, feeling strangely possessive. “No, this is my task. I need that bass.” It’s his challenge and he’d be damned to let anyone take it from him. You’re the puzzle he’d set out to solve, the enigma that tickled his brain, an itch he needed to scratch. He wanted to figure you out. 

“If you say so.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

Soul might be some sort of genius, Jongseob had decided after the next meeting. Or he was just right about being better at people.

When Jongseob had sat with you in the office, alone with you for once since he needed to put in a little overtime to get one of his articles done, he’d taken his chance, and he came out of it alive to his surprise.

He’d eased into it, started off with asking how you got to joining the club and some follow ups after that, all of which only got him curt responses and a jibe at him to focus on his work.

But he’d ignored you and barrelled on, too dialled in now to back down. Then he’d asked you the question that got him through your first wall, one of many others to come.

“Why do you like writing?"

He could still picture it in his head as he lay in bed that night; the way that your hands had faltered and your face had softened in a way he’d never seen before.

You’d looked up at him from your screen, a little shocked but thoughtful as you crafted your answer in the silence that followed. He could still remember the cadence of your voice, soft like the setting sunlight that washed into the room.

“It’s making something out of nothing that leaves an impression on people,” you had answered and he could swear he saw your eyes practically sparkle. “You can make them feel anything. Angry, happy, sad, mournful. Isn’t that powerful?”

Your smile hadn’t been on your lips. It had been in your eyes.

He swore it felt like his limbs had ceded all his power to the way you’d gazed at him for the next few seconds. He couldn’t read the emotion in your eyes but when you looked back at your laptop, that perpetual furrow in your brows was nowhere to be seen.

𓆩⟡𓆪

He broke through another one of your walls when he walked into the office after a late class to pick up something he’d forgotten to take with him the day before, only to be stopped short when he saw you crying quietly at your desk.

He froze at the door, his grip on his phone nearly slipping. You were sitting in your chair facing away from the door with your face buried in your palms and your body trembling with quiet sobs. Your sniffles echoed through the quiet room, restrained like you didn’t want to allow yourself to cry even when you were alone.  

He didn’t realize he was moving until he was standing right behind you and brushing your shoulder with his hand. You jumped with a gasp, your head whipping around at him. 

He still remembers the way your eyes were wide and rimmed red, glassy under the single lamp lit at your desk. There were tear stains on your flushed cheeks and your lips were trembling with contained sobs.

The thought slapped him without announcement: you look pretty. But this looked wrong. Like weakness wasn’t meant to be worn in your eyes.

“Jongseob,” your voice brought him out of his internal panic, soft and vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to from you. You quickly turned away, frantically wiping at your eyes.

“S-Sorry!” He stumbled as he took a step back. “I just came to pick up something.”

“Well, take it and go then. It’s late, you shouldn’t be here.” Your voice is back to the steel that he’s used to from you, the change from mere seconds ago so seamless that he started to question if you were even crying in the first place. You didn’t meet his eyes. You stared down your desk with your hair curtaining your face, like a defense to physically shut him out too.

But he didn’t budge. “Are you okay?”

He expected you to yell at him again. To tell him it was none of his business, or to actually shove him away. But you remained quiet.

Until your shoulders started to tremble again and your breaths started to sound stuttered. Then, in a voice so quiet, so weak that it made you seem so small, you told him, “No.”

He didn’t think twice before he sat himself down on the floor beside your chair. But he stayed silent. He let you cry and kept you company until you finally opened up to him for the first time.

“It’s not just a club to me,” you said through quiet sniffles. His words came echoing back to him and he couldn’t hold back his cringe. He looked up at you and saw you still staring at your desk with a distant gaze. He kept quiet and gave you the space to continue. It took a few more moments for you to. “I’ve wanted to be a writer for my entire life. My dad thinks it’s a waste of time. That my career is a waste of time. That my choices are misguided.

“I was just on the phone with him. I mean, I’ve heard everything he said a million times already but—“ You broke off, your eyes watering with a fresh wave of tears. “But it still hurts to know I’m somehow worth less to him than my siblings because I don’t want to follow in his path.”

He understood it then. Kind of. Why you ran the club like the military. You had something to prove to not only your family but to yourself.

Jongseob pulled himself up to his feet and slid the box of tissues on your desk closer to you. “He’s wrong,” he stated. Your eyes lifted back on him, searching, and he felt his throat close in. He still pushed the words out. “Your passion doesn’t make you anything less than your family just because it’s different. It’s what makes you you.”

There was a small uptick of your lips and it made him feel like he should do a backflip. Your smile, something he’s never seen on you, is pretty too, even if it’s a tiny thing.

“I know that,” you said, and he blushed in fear that he just sounded corny. “But thank you.”

That felt like all the validation he needed that he was doing something right. That he really was beginning to work you open, bit by bit, and piece you together, bit by bit.

You didn’t stick around after that. You gathered your things quietly and left after wishing him a rare goodnight, leaving him standing in the room feeling a little off-kilter.

This side of you, vulnerable and small, was so different from what he was used to. Different from anything anyone has ever seen, he was pretty sure. 

And he couldn’t help but feel like he’d already won. 

𓆩⟡𓆪

The next few meetings were different. You were different. You were still as icy and stern as before, but when it came to him, you were different. Less sharp around the edges. You’d started looking to him for opinions, something that took everyone else by surprise. And you’d started asking him to take on tasks instead of just dropping them on him, though he still knew he can’t say no. He appreciated the change in tone regardless. And he didn’t let this development go to waste.

He’d started frequently offering to stay behind with you to finish final drafts when things got heavier for you. He told himself it was to further his little bet but he moreso just wanted to figure out how much more he could unravel you.

It became a routine after the first few times. A routine with coffee and sometimes takeout if you stayed back long enough. And conversations became more casual and less business.

“Lambda Chi Alpha,” you repeated over the lip of your coffee, narrowing your eyes at him. You took a slow sip, leaving him squirming a little under your calculating gaze. “You’re friends with Keeho and Theo?”

“Unfortunately,” he answered lightly, stirring the cup in his hand. “I’d say more roommates. I kind of just have to put up with them.”

You raised a brow at him. “So you’re not like them is what you’re saying?”

“Depends on what you define as ‘like them’.”

“Loud, arrogant, full-of-themself, disrespectful if you don’t immediately bend to their whims?”

He took a deep breath at your apt deduction. “Yup,” he said through a sharp exhale. “I’m saying that I’m precisely not like them.”

Then you laughed softly, a sound that echoes in his mind to this day. 

“I can tell,” you said with a smile that he became more familiar with, more fond of.

It had made his heart stutter a bit. Nerves, he told himself, because he needed to act soon. He could hear Theo’s voice in his head reminding him that the end of the month is near and there wasn’t a date in sight.

It was the perfect moment to make that step. The articles had been submitted, there were no near deadlines looming over you, midterms were still some time away, and the atmosphere of the late afternoon was cozy.

He took a breath. It was now or never. “Hey—“

“Can I ask—“ You paused when you realized you'd just talked over him. “Sorry, go ahead.”

He shook his head quickly. “No, it’s alright,” he said with a smile, leaning forward on his chair. He had moved to the desk next to you, so the distance between you both was only a few feet. “I can wait for you,” he adds, a little flirtatious, and it had you flushing at the cheeks. 

This had been another one of his developments; you flustered easily. Something he’d been using to his advantage more recently. And you didn’t seem to mind, almost played into them in fact.

You cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Alright,” you started, fidgeting with your cup. “I’ve never done this before but… I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime.” You were staring at your cup as you said it with a nervous candour, another thing he wasn’t used to seeing you with. “Like on a date.”

Jongseob could actually do a back flip right then with the energy that shot through him. When you finally looked up and met his grin with one of your own, he got that familiar feeling again— like he’d just won.

𓆩⟡𓆪

One date turned to two, then to three, then to five. The fifth one was the one where he found himself in front of your dorm room, dropping you off safely to wrap up your arcade date from where he learned you were just as competitive as he was and even more scary if there were prizes to be won.

You were easy to be with, he found. So easy when you weren’t hiding away behind walls. You were insightful, witty, smart, funny in an unexpected way, and you were into the same games as he was, funnily enough. 

You clicked. It was easy to fall into the rhythm of things together. And he watched you change for the better. Watched you smile more now that you finally had someone’s shoulder to lean on, less burdened on your own. 

He learned more about your upbringing, about your family, about why your ambition was both your armour and your weapon.

Every little thing he found out about you helped the puzzle of you become clearer and clearer by the day. More than ever, he didn’t want to stop figuring you out.

“You didn’t have to come all the way up,” you told him as you fumbled with your keys to unlock the door.

He leaned against the wall beside your door, watching the smile you were struggling to smother on your lips. “Just being a gentleman.” 

Truthfully, he didn’t really want the date to end just yet so he’d offered to walk you up rather than leave you off at the entrance of your building like he’d done the other times.

It got a laugh out of you as you finally unlocked the door. But you didn’t go inside just yet, you hovered by him instead. “Jongseob,” you said, looking up at him. “Do you want to come inside?”

His breath caught in his throat and he was pretty sure his heart had just combusted in his chest. “Inside?” He asked, just to make sure he hadn’t heard you wrong.

You smiled, a shy, pretty thing. “Yeah. If you want to.”

He swallowed back the tangle of nerves and excitement that climbs up his throat. “Yeah,” he said without much thought. Because he wanted to.

When you kissed him for the first time, the farthest thing on his mind was the bet. All he thought of was the plush of your lips against his and the sweetness of your scent muddling his brain of everything but you. 

And when you brought him to your bed, he forgot about the bet all together, all his thoughts on the heat of your skin beneath his palms and the sweet sounds of your voice around his name.

It was when he was laying on his back trying to piece himself together after and you had told him you’d never been with anyone else that the guilt had sunk its claws into his ribs. And it didn’t let go for the following months to come.

𓆩⟡𓆪

“Dude!” Keeho yelled, running up from behind, slamming his hands down on Jongseob’s shoulder and stopping him on his way to the club office. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing but well-fucking-done.”

Theo appeared beside Jongseob and slapped a hand to his back that had him nearly knocking into Keeho. “Turns out the bitch does have a heart,” Theo mused, and Jongseob almost recoiled with the acid that burned at the back of his throat after hearing that.

“Don’t call her that,” he snapped.

Theo’s brows raised as he pulled his hand back to himself. “Woah. Didn’t realize it was that serious.”

“It’s not,” Jongseob said quickly, pushing Keeho’s hands off of him. “But she’s really not all that you make her out to be. She’s just got a lot of shit to deal with, alright?”

“And that gives her the right to treat everyone around her like shit?” Keeho asked, crossing his arms.

That rubbed the wrong nerve and Jongseob couldn’t hold himself back. “Oh, and you’re so much better?” Even after the words left his mouth, he still didn’t regret it.

Keeho’s expression soured and he took a step forward. “What the hell does that mean?”

Jongseob was taller but he was also much skinnier so he should feel threatened, but he couldn’t find himself caring enough to. “I just mean you haven’t exactly given her the easiest of times either.”

Theo got in between them before anything could start. He fixed Jongseob with a reprimanding look. “Watch it,” he said, nearly scowling. “Are you saying you actually like her?”

Honestly, it wasn’t something he could answer. He didn’t know if the feelings he had towards you were real or if this whole bet thing had illusioned them up for the success of his own greed. But all he knew was that he came to respect you as a person, whether it was romantic or not.

“Does it matter?” Is what Jongseob settled for as an answer. “The bet’s still on.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

Being with you was the easiest thing Jongseob had ever done. It was also the thing that burrowed a stone deep in his ribs, one that ached and throbbed with guilt every time he was with you. 

The late days at the office were all that he looked forward to three times a week besides your dates. The ones where you spent half the time deep diving into obscure topics just to argue with each other about it, all in the name of friendly competition. It was the most fun that he found himself having in his otherwise mundane life. It was the thing that he thought back on most of his day as he completed his chores.

Soul had caught Jongseob smiling to himself in the laundry room as he hummed a tune of an album you’d shown him and folded his laundry. 

“Have you told her about the bet yet?”

Jongseob nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice. He whipped around to glare at Soul. “Jesus, Shota! A warning, please!”

Soul seemed unbothered. “Have you told her about the bet yet?”

The stone in his ribs started to feel heavy and jagged. “No, why would I?” He asked. He felt the sharp sting in his chest, the same feeling he got whenever the topic was brought up.

Soul yanked his Pikachu head-band off his head and chucked it at Jongseob’s.

Jongseob barely dodged it before he turned to glare again at Soul. “Okay, what the fuck.”

“You’re an idiot,” is all Soul said as he picked up his handband from the floor and stomped away. 

Jongseob stared at Soul’s retreating figure, befuddled.

“What he means to say is that this is a bad idea.”

Jongseob jumped again and whipped around to see Jiung enter the laundry room through the other door with his bin of clothing.

“I need to put a bell on you people,” Jongseob grumbled to himself as he returned to folding his laundry, added with an aggressive flare this time. “Also, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jiung leaned against the washing machine with his arms crossed and a frown on his face, one almost like he was scolding. “I think you do. You like this girl.”

Jongseob’s movements faltered for a short moment before he started gathering his clothes in his basket, figuring he would just fold them up in his room. “I don’t.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yes!” He snapped, then flinched back, taken aback by his own volume.

“…Right.”

Jongseob didn’t even have to look at Jiung to know that he’d lost the conversation, so he tucked tail and left.

𓆩⟡𓆪

The panic built up inside of him for the next month. It had been over two months that you’ve been dating and a month since you’d become exclusive. There were only three weeks left until he won the bet. But he didn’t feel any close to winning, because he had come to the terrible realization that he was in love with you. But it wasn’t a reality he could accept knowing what he knew; how this whole thing had started. He didn’t even care about winning the bet anymore. He just wanted to know how he could keep you.

He could come clean. But that would mean losing you. He could hide it all. But that would mean he’d lose himself.

Soul and Jiung’s disappointed faces flashed behind his eyes as he dropped his head to his desk. He sat there, stewing in the despair of his own curation, until he felt a hand in his hair, gentle and grounding.

He looked up to be met with your concerned face peering down at him. “You okay?”

He leaned into your touch, sighing at the way your nails scratch against his scalp. “M’okay,” he mumbled, feeling all his panic drain away with just a simple touch from you. “Just stressed about finals, that’s all.”

“Aw,” you cooed softly, dragging your nails down to the back of his head, a motion that had him shuddering. “Wanna come to my place and study?”

He opened his eyes and gave you a cheeky smile. “Study?” He asked, swivelling his chair to face you. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you in to stand between his legs. “Isn’t that what you said last time?”

You rolled your eyes as your hands fell to his shoulders, but you were smiling. “You’re the one who started that. You were the distracting one, not me.”

He laughed, leaning forward to press a kiss to your stomach, the closest part of you he could reach with his lips. It always went like this; he would agonize over his predicament whenever he was left to his thoughts but would forget all about it the second you were nearby.

“I heard about the party your frat’s hosting the weekend after next,” you said, playing with the string of his hoodie. “How come you haven’t invited me yet?”

The truth was he didn’t want you interacting with any of his friends. It would make his situation too real. It felt comfortably hypothetical currently.

“I didn’t think it was your scene,” he answered instead, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs, firm against your shirt.

“It’s not,” you agreed. “But you’re going to be there. And it’s the last party before the year ends so… I dunno.” You were being shy again, averting your eyes and chewing on your lip, and he was overwhelmed with fondness. “I kind of wanna be there with you.”

He couldn’t help the grin pulling at his lips. “You wanna be there for me?” He teased, yanking you right back in when you groan and try to pull away. “In that case, I want you there.” He could never deny you, it felt physically impossible to.

You visibly relaxed at that, your shoulders slumping. “Oh, good,” you said with a small smile. “For a second I was worried you were, like, embarrassed by me or something.”

His smile fell immediately. “Embarrassed?” He asked in disbelief. “Why would I be embarrassed by you?”

You shrugged, averting your eyes again as you tie and untie the strings of his hoodie. “You’ve never introduced me to your friends. And I’m not an airhead, I know what people think of me.”

He tensed at your admission, that festering guilt rooting deeper and slithering down to his gut. He distracted himself by pulling you in closer, bringing you down to straddle his lap.

“They just don’t know you like I do,” he stated, snaking his arms around your waist. Then he smiled, light and playful, juxtaposed to how he was feeling on the inside. “But I kind of like being the only one to have this side of you.”

He celebrated internally when that brought the smile back onto your lips. “Corny,” you said through your tinkling laugh. “Possessive. An idiot is what you are.”

“The luckiest one,” he said, and then he kisses you to numb the way his insides twist at the lie. He was the unluckiest lucky person to exist. 

Luck had brought him to you but luck becomes the thing that takes you away just the same.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Bringing you to that party was the most foolish thing he could have done, he realizes now.

⸝⸝

Introducing you to Jiung was the right way to start at least, he’d thought as he watched the two of you chat in the kitchen, away from the crowd. When Soul got thrown into the mix, you were immediately endeared by him, giggling at his strange antics. It was the first time he’s seen you so at ease around others, so open to expressing around them. You had told him earlier that it was his presence with you that helped you stay at ease.

A hand to his shoulder snapped his eyes away from the scene and to Intak. 

“Dude,” Intak said, already slurring. “Your girl looks hot. Better treat her real nice with the money you’re get—“

Jongseob didn’t let him finish before he got his hand slammed over his big mouth and pushed him out of the kitchen. 

“Are you insane?!” Jongseob whisper-yelled at Intak’s frightened eyes. He pulls his hand back from Intak’s. “Don’t talk about that when she’s around, you idiot—“

“Don’t talk about what?”

Jongseob whipped around so fast he nearly threw himself off balance and knocked himself into Intak.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, moving to you and wrapping his arm around your waist. His heart was pounding in his chest and he was quickly beginning to realize what a mistake it was to bring you here. “Let’s go out for some fresh air, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed easily, then looked at Intak who smiled charmingly at you and even gave you a little bow. You didn’t seem all that impressed though. “Hwang Intak, right?”

Intak’s eyes lit up instantly. “You know me?”

“Unfortunately.”

Jongseob coughed to smother his laugh when Intak’s face fell just as quick. “Come on, don’t start a fight with my roommates,” he said playfully to you as he started to pull you away. 

You moved along with him as he started steering you towards the top floor for the balcony. “I could take him.”

“Sure you can,” he said fondly as he weaved through the crowds in the halls.

He felt lucky that it was so crowded. Maybe enough so that you wouldn’t run into the two devils that had been sitting comfortably on his shoulder the past few months.

But it’s already been established that he was the unluckiest lucky guy.

Because as soon as he rounded the corner to the stairs, Keeho and Theo were on their way down, attached at the hip like they always were. 

“Look who it is!” Keeho said with a wide grin as he stopped a few steps above you. 

Theo had a subtle smirk on his lips, one that Jongseob knew meant trouble. He felt suddenly like they’ve just been thrown into the wolves’ den. 

“We were just going to go to the balcony,” Jongseob said tightly. “For some air.”

“For some air,” Theo repeated, before turning to you. 

You looked like this is the last place you’d want to be. But you mustered up a pleasant smile, like you’re trying to keep the peace for Jongseob’s sake.

“Nice to see you guys,” you said, albeit stiffly. Everyone knew it was bullshit but Jongseob still appreciated the gesture. 

Theo scoffed. “It still throws me off how you’re so pleasant all of a sudden.”

Jongseob squeezed your hand as a silent plea to back down, scared that these two might just be the spark you need to revert back to your icy ways.

But you didn’t bite the bait; you kept your control as you tilted your head at Theo and furrowed your brows in constructed confusion. 

“Oh? I thought that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Your voice sounded steady though the implication of your words are loud. “I mean, that’s what I always hear from you two. That I’ve got a stick up my ass and whatnot. I thought I was doing everyone a favour by diverting to my pleasant ways but it looks like you two can’t be satisfied, can you?” You clicked your tongue in mock disappointment. “I guess you always need something to be miserable about.”

Keeho’s grin was faint now but it was still there with a barely restrained scowl. “I see you’ve still got a bite. But I wouldn’t be so arrogant about this if I were you.”

Theo took the last couple steps down to level with you and Jongseob. “You don’t know it yet but,” he paused to lean forward, his smirk pulling up to a deceptively warm smile. “You should really be thanking us for your new look for that.”

Jongseob’s heart was in his throat. He saw the way your face contorted with real confusion, and the way you were about to ask about it but Jongseob was quick to push past Theo and Keeho to climb the stairs. 

“Come on, just ignore them,” he told you as he pulled you along. 

The fresh air did little to soothe the heat prickling at his skin. But your arms snaking around from behind him while you press yourself against his back, did.

“Are you okay?” Came from your gentle voice, breath brushing against his ear as you pressed your chin to his shoulder.

He took a deep breath to ease down his rattling heart. “Better now,” he said as he turned in your arms and wrapped his arms around your neck.

You smiled up at him as he brushed back the hair bristling over your forehead with the wind. “I like your friends. Shota and Jiung, I mean,” you added quickly with a scrunch of your nose. “Not the others.”

He snorted, tilting his head back to look up at the sky. The moon is full and the stars are bright. He should have felt welcomed by them, they should have made this moment feel nicer. But he just felt mocked by them. Like they were saying that a moment this peaceful, with the girl he wanted in his arms, could never be his. It wasn’t really his, even if he was living it right now. It would never be his until he bares his truth to them.

“Jongseob,” you whispered, and he tilted his head back down. 

That unreadable look in your eyes, the one that’s been more frequent the past few weeks, was back. 

And suddenly he felt too raw, too exposed by the light of the moon and the stars.

“Yes?” He asked, feeling his heart slowly climb its way back up his throat.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

He felt every fiber of his being go rigid. He couldn’t swallow his heart back down this time. “What do you mean?” His voice sounded distant from himself, like it was coming out of someone else.

You started to pull away but he kept his arms tight enough that you couldn’t put too much distance. Distance that he fears might be permanent if he lets it manifest.

The pinch between your brows was back as you chose your words. “You’ve been a little… distant these past few weeks. Hidden, more like. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

His breaths were starting to become harder to regulate. Of course you’d noticed something was up. You were one of the smartest people he knew. How could he think he could hide anything from you?

“Is it something I said?” You asked when he didn’t respond, your eyes wide and searching as they flickered between his. “Or something I did?”

“No,” he said quickly, his hands sliding down to catch your arms. “No, no you didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is it?”

This was his chance to come clean. He wanted to, he desperately wanted to. But when he opened his mouth, nothing came out, fear trapping the words in his throat. The fear of losing you was greater than his need to come clean.

You were starting to look increasingly defeated as you waited, as you pleaded him with your eyes.

“Please,” you breathed after another moment of silence. “Please don’t tell me I fell in love with the wrong person.”

The world felt like it tilted on his axis as that word that slipped from your lips trapped itself in his brain and rattled around. His breaths ceased and his hands lost their grip on your arms.

“Love?” He whispered, the word tumbling out of his lips without his permission. 

You dropped your gaze to his chest and it was like he could almost see the way your walls started to climb back into place. “I love you, Jongseob,” you said, clear as the night sky above. “I’m sorry if that’s not what you want. And I’m sorry if it’s too soon. But I needed to say it. I’ve wanted to say it for a couple weeks now.” You stepped out of his space and he was too weak to stop you this time, his strength zapped out of his body along with every other feeling. 

“I love you,” you repeated it, like a final blow to his heart.

He was numb as he turned around and walked back inside. He could hear you calling his name behind him but he didn’t stop. He pushed his way through the crowd, frantic as he searched the rooms.

When he saw Theo, he zeroed right in on him. He grabbed him by the arm, ignoring his protests as he yanked him out to the front porch. 

“Jongseob, what the hell is up with you?!” Theo cried as he was shoved up against the wall, Jongseob’s fists curled tight into his shirt collars. 

“The bet,” Jongseob seethed. He felt almost manic, wouldn’t be surprised if he looked like it too if Theo’s vaguely terrified expression was anything to go by. “I want out. Fuck you and your stupid money, I want none of it.”

He was angry. And he was taking it out on Theo. But that didn’t make sense because he was angry at himself more than anything but there was too much going on in his brain for things to make any sense.

Theo tried to shove him back but Jongseob pushed him back hard into the bricks, overbearing from the adrenaline. “Listen to me!” He yelled. Theo’s eyes widened as they flicker between him and over his shoulder. Jongseob could hear the commotion of people gathering behind him but he didn’t care whose eyes were there. “You don’t speak a fucking word about the bet, you hear me?” He whispered the words right into Theo’s face, seeped in uncontained rage. “None of it. If she finds out at all, hears any fucking peep of it, you’re the one I’m coming for first. You get me?” He pushed Theo’s harder against the wall, making him wince in pain. His fists were knuckle white in Theo’s shirt and shaking from the force. He was shaking everywhere. “Say one word and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Theo could only stare at him, fear unbridled in his eyes. 

“Jongseob.”

The name didn’t come from Theo’s lips. It came from a voice that has him going cold all over.

His hand dropped like deadweight at his sides and he turned like someone else was pulling the strings attached to his body.

The look on your face was like the one he saw on you when he first met you. Cold. Distant. Walled.

“Was I a bet, Jongseob?” You asked him. Your voice was stable. It was calculated. Reserved. Just like before.

All he could do was stare and watch the flashes of the moments he had with you flicker behind his eyelids.

“Tell me,” you started again, voice rising with each second that passed by. “Was I a bet? Was I a fucking bet?”

His throat felt dry as he spoke. “Yes.”

That pit of guilt in his ribs lifted as the admission left his lips. In its place sat grief, because he knew that this was the end of it.

But that still didn’t stop him from trying. 

He tried to say your name, to reach for you but you were already gone. His feet felt weighted to the ground as he watched your figure push through the crowd of people he didn’t realize had formed around the scene.

He felt a hand shove at his back, pulling him out of whatever trance he was in. His head whipped back to see Theo reaching out to shove him again. “Go after her,” he urged, shoving him again. “Go!”

That snapped Jongseob into action. He turned and sprinted after you, shoving past the wall of people and yelling your name.

He could see your figure in the distance. You didn’t turn his way, you just kept walking. Eventually he caught you by the arm and pulled you back to him. 

“Wait—“

“I don’t want to hear it!” You yelled immediately, throwing his arm off of you. There were tears streaming down your face, tracking eyeliner down your cheeks. Your face was twisted in agony and it hit him like a spear to the chest the realization that it was because of him.

“Just— please!” He caught both of your arms this time. He was still shaking and his eyes were blurry and his head was spinning but the one thing he knew was that he couldn’t let you go. “Let me explain!”

“We’re done,” you seethed, pulling yourself back but the grip he had on your arms was iron. “Let me go.”

“I love you!” He yelled, and you finally stopped struggling. He pulled you towards him, holding you firmly in his space. “I love you, I really do, you have to believe that.” He knew tears were streaming down his face and this was far from the ideal state that he wanted to be telling you that in. But he was done hiding. “I love you.”

You were watching every word fall from his lips, your expression falling neutral even despite the tears still welling your eyes. “You love me?” You asked, quiet enough that your voice is nearly drowned out by the rustling trees above you. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have lied to me.”

A sob wracked through his body, his fingers digging desperately into your skin. But you didn’t flinch or pull away, content to watch him drown in his miseries. “I was scared,” he whispered through a wet breath. “I was so scared. I knew I would lose you. But I swear, it just started off as a bet, but-but then I got to know you and I got to see you— the real you— and it’s something I never could have imagined. I fell for you. So hard.” 

He was sobbing through his words and he wasn’t even sure if you could understand him but he couldn’t contain any of it. He let it all out, desperate that you’d see him through all of it. 

“I love you,” he said, trembling from head to toe, breaths tumbling out in stutters, chest heaving with sobs. It was ugly, but it was honest. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

You were quiet for a long moment, just watching, picture-still like a pretty statue.

“Please,” he tried again, stepping closer and pressing his forehead down to yours.

“Jongseob,” you said, and your voice was so gentle that it lit a flicker of hope in his chest, fragile and dangerous.

Your hand reached up to brush the tears on his cheek. The touch felt like a reprieve; he melted into it, turned into it, and sought out the warmth of your palm against his nose and lips, cold from the chilly air. Your hand slid down, slow as your thumb carved out the slope of his nose then the bow of his lips. He breathed in your scent, sweet and familiar, and it fed the flicker in his chest. 

“I can’t stay,” you said, and just like that, that flicked of hope snuffed out into nothing. “Not when I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t.”

Another sob wracked through his body as your hand fell away. “It was real,” he said, trying to catch your hand again but you pulled it away before he could. You stepped back until all that was left was your arm still clutched in his hand like a lifeline. “It was all real. I swear it on my life, it was real.”

Your face crumbled as you took his wrist in your free hand. “Not to me,” you said, and all the strength in his body left again. You pushed his hand off of you and he let it fall without a fight. “Not anymore.”

He was helpless to watch you fade away into the night. He wasn’t sure when he'd fallen to his knees but the ground was cold beneath him. It seeped up his leg and traversed through all his limbs, keeping him trapped there as it wrapped like a cage around his heart, squeezing down until he couldn't feel anymore.

𓆩⟡𓆪

It’s been four months exactly now since that fateful night in the LCA living room. Now he sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the first article he wrote for you and you’d refused to read, trembling in his hands.

It’s been a week now that you’ve walked out of his life. Ten days since the last time he got to sit with you in that office. Seven days since he’s last kissed you. Seven days since he last heard his name from your lips.

You’ve become a ghost. His texts lay unanswered. His phone calls all lead to a wall. And when he thinks he catches a glimpse of you around campus, you’re gone in the blink of an eye like an apparition made to keep his heart in throes.

He knows where to find you three times a week. But the thought of stepping anywhere near that room sends his stomach into twists.

The fact that he’s pretty sure he flunked his last few finals wasn’t even enough to take his mind off you. Nothing seems to matter now that he’s lost what could’ve been something great, something real.

And all he has to show for it now is this article and the memory of you.

“Burn it.”

His head lifts to see Jiung at the doorway, Soul hovering behind him. The looks on their faces just make him feel worse, caged.

Jongseob’s hands curl tighter into the papers. “Why?” His voice is hollow, just like the rest of him.

Jiung crosses the room in a few strides, picks up the trash bin by Jongseob’s desk and fishes out a lighter from his pockets. He places the bin on the floor in front of where Jongseob sits and drops the lighter on his lap.

Jongseob stares down at it blankly.

“You need to forget about her,” Jiung says gently, taking a seat beside him. “She’s not coming back.”

The words sting, no matter how true. But burning it would make everything feel too real and too final.

Soul sits on his other side, pressing close and dropping his head on his shoulder. The warmth is welcome after days of cold isolation. “It will be good for you,” he says quietly.

“I don’t want to.”

Jiung sighs and runs a palm down his back, a motion meant to soothe but just felt overwhelming. “If you don’t, you’ll just keep hurting.”

“Well maybe I deserve it,” Jongseob says, defeated. He can’t imagine how he thought he would come out of this victorious. “Why did I do something so stupid?”

“It wasn’t all your fault,” Jiung reasons. “Keeho and Theo pushed you.”

“But it was still my choice,” he snaps, then flinches back. “Sorry.”

Soul places a hand around Jongseob’s wrist and squeezes. “All you can do is move on now.”

Move on. Easier said than done.

“I don’t know how.”

Jiung takes the lighter abandoned on Jongseob’s lap and places it in his hand. “Start with this.”

His fingers wrap weakly around the lighter; it feels like a weight in his palm. This is starting to feel almost like a funeral, he thinks morosely. Like a last send off.

But he knows Jiung and Soul are right. Holding onto this would mean holding onto you. And you had long let go of him.

He flicks on the lighter and brings it to the corners of the pages, watching as the flames lick up the ivory and graphite. He lets it spread up and up, dropping it into the bin when he feels the heat first touch his fingertips.

Jongseob sits there, recalling the story of you and him as he watches the last remnant of you wither away to ashes.

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