「 boxer heeseung x fem reader 」
genre ~ smut, angst & fluff. 18.1k
synopsis ᵎᵎ after being stood up, y/n meets heeseung, a boxer struggling under the pressure to always be the best. as they grow closer, they become each other’s safe place, helping one another heal wounds they’ve kept hidden. but when insecurities and misunderstandings threaten their bond, they must learn that love isn’t about being perfect, but finding someone who stays.
warnings ᵎᵎ low self-esteem, profanity, dry humping, nipple play, sensitivity, hand job, eating out, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do!), soft dom, size difference, lowk hand kink?
the friday air in seoul bit through the thin fabric of your dress. you sat on the wooden bench outside the restaurant, your heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement. you had spent three hours on your makeup. you had picked a dress that made you feel confident. now, you just felt stupid.
you stared at your phone screen. the clock read 7:42 pm. the guy you were supposed to meet had not texted back in two hours. yunjin had been the one to push you into this. yunjin always said that you had spent too much time taking care of other people and not enough time letting someone take care of yourself.
you sighed and dialed yunjin. the line rang and rang. finally, the call connected.
"yunjin, he stood me up."
"what? are you serious? that absolute piece of shit. where are you?"
"i'm at the place on the corner. i just want to go home and cry."
"nooo, y/n. don’t let him ruin your night—"
suddenly yunjin got cut off. the screen flickered. a low battery warning flashed red and then the phone went black. you stared at the reflection of your own disappointed face in the glass. you let out a shaky breath and leaned back, looking up at the neon signs of the city. you felt that familiar hollow ache in your chest. you were always the one who gave everything. you were the one who listened to everyone's problems until three in the morning. but when you needed a win, the world seemed to forget you.
a door clicked open in the building next to the restaurant. a guy stepped out. he wore charcoal sweatpants and a heavy black hoodie that obscured most of his frame. a leather duffel bag hung over his shoulder. he didn't look at you as he walked toward a car parked on the opposite side of the pavement. he tossed the bag into the trunk with a heavy thud.
you bit your lip. you looked at your dead phone and then at the stranger. you hated asking for help. you hated being a burden. but the thought of sitting on that bench for another twenty minutes made you feel like you would shatter.
you stood up and walked toward him.
the guy stopped. he turned slowly. his eyes were sharp, hooded, and tired. he didn't smile. he just looked at you, taking in your fancy dress and the way you were clutching your dead phone.
"sorry to bother, but could i ask for a favour? my phone died and i'm kind of stranded here. do you mind if i could borrow your phone to get an uber?"
he stared at you for a few seconds. he looked like he wanted to say no. he looked closed off, like there was a wall around him that he didn't want anyone to climb. but then his gaze softened slightly. he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone.
he didn't hand it over immediately. he held it out, but he stayed a few feet away. you took it carefully.
"thank you so much. you’re a lifesaver."
he didn’t say anything, just watched.
you opened the app and began typing in your address. you waited for the screen to load. the circle spun. and spun. a message popped up. no uber available.
you felt a surge of panic. you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. you looked up at him, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"there are no available ubers.. i-.. you know what? it’s okay, thank you though."
the guy shifted his weight. he looked at the restaurant and then back at you. he could see the way your shoulders were shaking.
you told him the neighborhood. you spoke quickly, the words tumbling out. you hoped he would offer a ride, but you tried to keep your voice neutral so you didn't sound desperate.
you froze. you looked at him. he was a stranger. you knew the risks. you had heard the stories. but you looked at the empty street and your dead phone and the crushing weight of your day.
"you'd do that? i don't want to be a bother."
"yeah, it’s not too far."
he said with a hint of shyness. he opened the passenger door for you. the interior of the car smelled like old leather and a hint of peppermint. you climbed in and buckled your seatbelt, your heart hammering against your ribs.
as he pulled away from the curb, the silence felt heavy. you stared out the window at the blurring lights of seoul. you wanted to break the tension.
"so. what were you doing there? ..if i may ask."
he kept his eyes on the road. his grip on the steering wheel was firm.
"i was at the gym.. i’m a boxer."
you turned to look at him. you noticed the wrapped knuckles of his right hand.
he nodded. "yeah. right next to the restaurant.”
“oh. that’s cool. how are you finding it?”
“it started off as a hobby but i don't know so much anymore."
"i'm a little too competitive. it gets pressurising. my old man doesn't believe in hobbies. he believes in winning."
he glanced at you. his expression was unreadable.
"what about you? why were you at a fancy restaurant on a friday night?"
you looked down at your lap. you began playing with the sleeves of your jacket, pulling the fabric over your knuckles.
"nothing is embarrassing to me."
his voice had dropped an octave. it was softer now. you hesitated but eventually spoke.
"i got stood up. by a guy i didn't even want to go out with in the first place."
he didn't laugh. he didn't tell you it would be okay. he just drove.
"sounds like you dodged a bullet."
you let out a small, wet laugh.
"maybe. but it's just. i'm tired of it. i hate guys. i feel like they're all playboys. just heartless pieces of shit who like the idea of someone until they actually have to put in the work. no offence to you."
he stayed silent for a moment.
"yeah. i mean i can sort of relate. i spend my whole life trying to be what people want. win this match. make more money. be the best. it's like i'm just a trophy for other people to hold. nobody actually asks if i'm tired."
you looked at him with wide eyes. you didn't see a stranger. you saw a reflection.
"i'm the same way. i'm the one everyone leans on. i'm the therapist. i give everything to everyone and then i go home and realize i have nothing left for myself."
"it's a lonely way to live."
a single tear escaped and ran down your cheek. you wiped it away quickly, but he had already seen. he didn't reach out to touch you, but his voice sounded like a hug.
"anyone would be lucky to have a girl like you. don't think any less of yourself because some idiot didn't show up."
you felt your breath hitch.
"you don't even know me."
"i know the look of someone who's used to being alone while surrounded by people. i know that feeling."
he paused as he slowed down for a red light.
"waking up and realizing you have no one to lean on. it hurts. there's nothing to be embarrassed about. if anything, i relate to you the most."
they drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. when he finally pulled up to your apartment, you felt a strange reluctance to leave.
"i didn't get your name."
he looked at you. the streetlights cast long shadows across his face.
"i'm heeseung. and you are?"
"i'm y/n. it was nice meeting you, heeseung."
you gave him a soft smile. it was the first genuine smile you had worn all day.
"i hope i could help. you have a pretty name."
"thank you for the ride. really."
you stepped out of the car and watched him drive away. you didn't exchange numbers. you didn't make a plan. you were just two lonely people who had found a brief sanctuary in a car.
weeks passed. you went back to your life. you spent your days working and your nights listening to yunjin complain about her latest arguments with jake.
"you’re coming to jake's party tonight," yunjin announced, dragging y/n toward the door.
"i don't know, yunjin. i'm tired."
"no. you are coming. you've been in a slump since that disaster date. you need music, drinks, and people who aren't your computer screen."
jake’s house was massive and loud. the air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and cheap beer. music thumped through the floorboards, vibrating in your chest. you tried to have fun. you danced a little with your friends, you laughed at jokes, but as the night wore on, the crowd became suffocating.
men began to circle you. they used the same lines. they touched your waist without asking. you felt that familiar urge to disappear.
you eventually slipped through the sliding glass doors and stepped onto the front porch. the cool night air hit you like a splash of water. you found a bench and sat down, closing your eyes.
a few people were outside, but most were scattered. a guy stood against the railing a few feet away. he was smoking a cigarette, the orange glow lighting up the dark. he turned and looked at you.
you opened your eyes. your heart skipped.
he smiled. it wasn't the closed off expression from the car. it was a small, knowing smirk.
"i know you from somewhere."
you felt a spark of heat in your chest. you smiled back, a bit of mischief entering your voice.
he walked closer, the smell of tobacco and mint following him.
he sat down next to you, leaving a respectful gap between them.
"i thought i'd never see you again. what are you doing here?"
"i could ask you the same thing. how do you know my man jake?"
"i'm best friends with yunjin. jake's girlfriend."
he chuckled softly. "small world, isn't it?"
you looked at the cigarette between his fingers. you hated smoking. you reached over and plucked it from his hand. before he could react, you stepped on it, grinding your foot into the pavement until the ember died.
"yes, ma'am.” he laughed, and the sound was rich and warm. he looked at you, his eyes scanning your face.
"why are you sitting here alone?"
"i needed some fresh air. everyone is hooking up or those creepy guys kept hitting on me."
he went quiet. he looked back at the house, then at you.
"wanna ditch this place?"
y/n blinked. "what do you mean? to where?"
"i know a couple of places. besides, i'm kinda over this party. i'm sure jake and yunjin won't mind. if you're not having a great time, at least let me make it good for you. don’t worry it’s nothing what you think.” he laughed softly at your expression.
you hesitated but soon stood up and followed him to his car
he drove you to a quiet hill overlooking the city. you both climbed a small path and found a spot beneath a massive, ancient tree. the city lights twinkled in the distance like fallen stars.
you sat on the grass, the silence between you no longer heavy, but electric.
you talked for hours. you both talked about your fears, your families, and the way the world felt too loud. you both discovered that you both liked the same obscure indie bands and both hated the feeling of being misunderstood.
as the temperature dropped, you shivered. without a word, heeseung pulled off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. it was oversized and smelled like him.
that night, you finally exchanged numbers. the spot he’d taken you to became your secret. you both called it ‘your spot’.
over the next few months, you both became inseparable. you didn't call it dating. you just existed in each other's space. you would visit him at his boxing gym.
you walked into the gym one afternoon, the smell of leather and sweat hitting you. you saw him hitting a heavy bag. the sound of his punches was like gunfire. he was fast, precise, and focused.
"hey. thanks for lending me your jacket. i hope i'm not inconveniencing you."
heeseung stopped, his chest heaving. he wiped sweat from his forehead with his arm and smiled.
"of course not. i'm sorry for making you come all the way here."
"no worries. is this where you box and stuff?"
you looked around at the rings and the hanging gloves.
"uh huh. coaches left early."
"show me your moves." you chuckled. heeseung smirked and stepped back to the bag. he launched a combination. jab, cross, hook, upper cut. the bag groaned under the force. you watched, impressed by the raw power in his arms.
he stepped away and handed you a pair of gloves.
"me? try? no, i'll embarrass myself."
"come on. give it a shot. let me teach you."
he stood behind you, guiding your arms. his chest was pressed against your back, his breath warm against your ear. he corrected your stance, his hands lingering on your waist. you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through you. you weren’t focusing on the bag anymore. you were focusing on the way his heart beat against your shoulder.
the door to the gym swung open. a younger guy with a chaotic energy walked in.
niki smirked, raising his eyebrows.
"is she your girlfriend?"
heeseung froze. he looked at you. he saw the way you were looking at him, your eyes soft and hopeful.
your heart leaped. you felt a blush creep up your neck.
"damn. you got motion, man. you gonna take her to tonight's game?"
heeseung turned to her, his voice shy.
after niki left, heeseung rubbed the back of his neck.
"sorry i put you on the spot like that. i sort of had to call you that so the guys here won't hit on you. you know how it is."
you smiled to yourself. "it's alright. thank you."
"you don't have to come tonight if you're not comfortable. it's a pretty violent."
"no, it's okay. i would love to watch you."
that night, the arena was deafening. you stood in the front row, your heart racing. you didn't like violence, and you winced every time a blow landed, but you never stopped cheering.
"go heeseung! you've got this!"
heeseung looked into the crowd and found you. the moment his eyes met yours, the tension in his shoulders vanished. he felt a surge of adrenaline and warmth. he didn't want to win for his father. he wanted to win for you.
he won by a knockout in the third round. when he stepped out of the ring, he walked straight to you. you reached up, gently dabbing a cloth on his sweat drenched forehead and the cut above his eyebrow. you handed him a bottle of water.
heeseung looked down at you, his eyes shimmering.
he smirked as he gently pinched your chin. he felt a sense of pride he had never known. for the first time, he wasn't thinking about the score. he was thinking about the girl who saw him as more than a fighter.
after that afternoon, something between you and heeseung quietly changed. you started texting more.
one evening, you were walking home from campus when your phone buzzed.
heeseung: yeah. is that a problem?
the typing bubble appeared then disappeared until it appeared again.
heeseung: kinda? i’ll have to do better than that
heeseung: you should get some rest
you rolled your eyes and smiled
heeseung: don’t call me that
heeseung: because i don’t want to be your dad
you: then what do you want to be?
the typing bubble appeared. then stopped. then appeared again. finally, his message came through.
heeseung: i’ll tell you when i figure it out.
you felt your cheeks warm. you placed your phone down for a moment, trying not to smile like an idiot
heeseung: you still awake?
you: yeah. shouldn’t you be sleeping? you played a rough game today and you have training tomorrow.
the answer came a little slower this time.
heeseung: because i’m talking to you.
you stared at the message. your heart gave a small, stupid flutter. you stared at the message, feeling a small flutter in your chest. you typed a response, deleted it, then finally sent it.
you: then i guess i’ll be the one who’s gonna sleep first!
heeseung: do you hate me or smth?
you: i’m flattered that you wanna talk to me that bad
heeseung: i just like talking to you. but if you insist on getting your beauty sleep then i wont stop you
your eyes widened slightly. you hesitated then sent.
you: but what if i like talking to you too?
heeseung: thennn can i expect it often? 👀
you: looking forward to it 🫠
he smiled at the nickname. his response came almost immediately.
heeseung: goodnight, pretty girl.
as soon as you saw the message you screamed into your pillow then composed yourself remembering you’re not a lover girl anymore and he’s just another guy. right? RIGHT?
this became their routine. you attended every match. they would eat at small convenience stores and walk back to their spot. you became the person who tended to his wounds. you would carefully wrap his knuckles and caress the bruises on his skin.
but heeseung still fought battles in his head. he struggled with his self esteem. he felt like he was only valuable when he was winning. sometimes, he would push himself too hard, training until his hands bled.
the sharp rhythm of leather striking leather echoed throughout the nearly empty gym. thudding heard in the distance.
the heavy bag swung violently from its chain with every punch, creaking overhead as it lurched back and forth. sweat darkened the back of heeseung’s shirt, clinging to his skin, while strands of damp hair stuck to his forehead. his breathing had become uneven nearly half an hour ago, but he ignored the burning in his lungs.
jab. cross. hook. another hook. he planted his feet harder into the mat, twisting his hips into every strike as though hitting the bag hard enough would somehow silence the voice inside his head.
“again.” thud. “harder.” thud. “you’re still too slow.” he clenched his jaw. his father wasn’t even there. yet he could still hear him.
he barely noticed the sting shooting through his knuckles each time they collided with the worn leather. the tape around his hands had slowly turned pink, then red, fresh blood seeping through the fabric with every punch.
the glass sliding door of the gym opened behind him “hee?” your voice echoed softly through the building as you stepped inside, balancing a bag in one hand and a drink in the other. your eyes immediately searched the room until they landed on him across the mats.
he glanced over his shoulder for barely a second before turning back to the bag.
“hey.” he forced out between breaths, offering a quick smile that disappeared almost instantly. “sorry… just one more round.”
you stood there quietly for a moment, watching him throw another combination. jab. cross. hook. uppercut. the heavy bag lurched so violently that the chains rattled against the ceiling.
your smile slowly faded. “you’ve been saying ‘one more round’ for the last fifteen minutes.” you set the drinks down on a nearby bench before walking closer, your shoes squeaking softly against the rubber flooring. concern settled across your face as you took in the way his shoulders trembled from exhaustion.
“i’m almost done.” he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his forearm without looking at you. another punch landed before the sentence had even finished.
you didn’t reply. instead, you walked straight in front of the heavy bag. heeseung froze mid-swing. his fist stopped inches from your shoulder.
“y/n.” his eyes widened immediately as he lowered both hands. “what are you doing?” his heartbeat jumped into his throat, more frightened that he might have accidentally hurt you than anything else.
“stopping you.” you folded your arms across your chest, refusing to move. your voice wasn’t angry. it was calm. almost stubborn. “because apparently you’re not going to stop yourself.”
he let out an exhausted sigh. “please move, angel.” there was a tired smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite everything. “i seriously only need another few minutes.”
“no.” you shook your head once, your expression unwavering. “you need to sit down.” he chuckled quietly at your stubbornness when in reality, he was the stubborn one.
“since when did you become my coach?” he tilted his head, hoping the joke might lighten the mood, but the second he looked properly at your face, the smile disappeared.
you weren’t amused, you looked worried. he rubbed the back of his neck. “…please?” his voice had softened now, almost pleading. “just let me finish.”
“why?” you asked gently, taking a small step closer. there wasn’t any accusation in your voice. only genuine curiosity. “what happens if you stop right now?”
he opened his mouth then closed it again, his eyes drifted toward the floor.
“someone else gets better while i’m resting.” the words barely rose above a whisper. they sounded rehearsed, like he’d repeated them to himself so many times they’d become a fact instead of a fear.
you stared at him for a long moment. “did your dad tell you that?” your voice was careful, as though you already knew the answer but hoped you were wrong.
he didn’t respond. he didn’t have to. the silence answered for him.
your gaze slowly dropped to his hands. “…hee.” you frowned, noticing the dark stains soaking through the tape wrapped around his knuckles. “give me your hands.”
“they’re fine.” he instinctively tucked them behind his back before offering you another smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “it’s just a little blood.”
“your tape isn’t supposed to be red.” you stepped closer until only a foot separated the two of you. your expression softened, but there was quiet determination behind your eyes. “please.”
he hesitated but slowly held his hands out. you reached for the loose end of the tape wrapped around his right hand and carefully began unwrapping it. layer after layer came away.
the deeper you got… the quieter you became. his knuckles were split open in several places. fresh blood glistened along the cuts. the skin was swollen and rubbed raw.
you felt a knot in your throat but but tried not to show it. you swallowed hard. “heeseung…” your voice cracked ever so slightly as your thumb hovered just above one of the deeper cuts. “you did this today?” your heart sank looking at the damage, unable to understand how he’d managed to ignore so much pain.
he shrugged. “…i guess.” he tried to laugh it off, but even he could hear how empty he sounded. “i wasn’t really paying attention.”
you looked up at him. “you noticed.” your brows knitted together sadly. “you just didn’t stop.”
his shoulders slowly dropped. “…yeah.” he admitted quietly after several seconds of silence. “i didn’t stop.”
the confession hung between you. you gently took hold of his wrist, “come here.” without another word, you guided him toward the wooden bench beside the ring. he followed obediently and it surprised him how easily he listened whenever it was you asking.
you disappeared into the small office beside the gym and returned with the first aid kit tucked beneath your arm. he watched you sit in front of him.
“this might sting.” you unscrewed the antiseptic bottle before soaking a cotton pad. your fingers were gentle as they brushed against his skin.
“i’ve survived worse.” he smiled weakly, trying once again to make light of the situation. the cotton touched the first cut.
he hissed immediately. you looked up with the tiniest smile. “really?”
“…i might’ve exaggerated.” he looked away sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his uninjured hand. “just a little.” a soft laugh escaped your lips. the sound echoed through the empty gym. he realised he’d missed hearing you laugh.
you continued cleaning every scrape with patient hands, replacing the ruined tape with fresh bandages. each wrap was snug enough to protect him without causing pain.
he watched your face the whole time. your brows furrowed slightly in concentration. your bottom lip tucked between your teeth whenever you focused.
you treated his hands as though they were fragile, valuable. worth protecting.
“how are you always this patient?” he asked quietly once you’d almost finished wrapping the last finger. there was genuine confusion in his eyes, like he couldn’t understand why someone would care this much.
you paused. “because nobody’s ever been that patient with you.” you tied the final knot before gently resting his hands in his lap. your eyes lifted to meet his. “and i think everyone deserves to know what that feels like at least once.”
he felt his throat tighten. “…i don’t know how to stop.” his voice trembled as he stared down at his freshly wrapped hands. “every time i rest, i feel guilty. every time i leave the gym early, i convince myself someone else is working harder than me.”
you sat beside him. “and when’s the last time you rested without feeling guilty?” you asked softly, turning slightly so you could fully face him. there wasn’t judgment in your expression. only concern.
he thought about it. he couldn’t remember. “…i don’t know.” you nodded slowly. “that’s not healthy, hee.” he let out a shaky breath. “…what if i’m only worth something when i’m winning?” the question slipped out before he could stop it. his eyes stayed fixed on the floor. “what if me boxing is the only reason people stay?”
your heart broke. without thinking, you reached over and intertwined your fingers with his bandaged ones. “look at me.” he slowly lifted his head.
“i’m here on a random tuesday afternoon while you’re sweaty, exhausted and covered in cuts.” you smiled gently, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “not because you won anything today. not because you’re famous. not because you’re a boxer.”
his eyes searched yours. “then why?”
“because you’re heeseung.” your smile grew warmer. “and that’s enough for me.”
his vision blurred. he blinked quickly, embarrassed by the tears threatening to spill.
you pretended not to notice. instead, you reached into the bag and held up his favourite banana milk. “i also brought snacks.”
he laughed through his watery eyes. “…you’re unbelievable.”
he shook his head, smiling for what felt like the first genuine time all afternoon. “thank you.”
“for what?” you leaned your shoulder gently against his. he looked down at the fresh bandages covering his hands, “for making me feel like i’m worth something.”
you rested your head lightly against his shoulder. “you always were.”
outside, the afternoon sun dipped lower behind the buildings, spilling warm golden light across the gym floor. for once, the heavy bag hung completely still. and for the first time in weeks… so did he.
the final bell echoed through the arena, followed almost immediately by an eruption of cheers. the sound crashed over the crowd like a wave, people rising to their feet as cameras flashed from every direction.
heeseung stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving with every breath. sweat rolled down the side of his face, disappearing beneath the collar of his robe. his ribs ached, his jaw throbbed where a punch had landed in the second round, and every scrape across his knuckles burned beneath the tape.
he barely heard the announcer speaking. “…and by unanimous decision…”
his heartbeat pounded louder than the microphone. for one tiny moment, he allowed himself to believe he had done enough.
the referee stepped between the two fighters, taking each of their wrists. heeseung looked into the crowd. his father stood near the front row with his arms folded across his chest. his expression was impossible to read. the referee lifted the other fighter’s arm.
the arena exploded. heeseung felt his stomach drop.
the winner threw both fists into the air while photographers crowded around the ring. heeseung stood frozen where he was, forcing himself to bow politely before stepping back. he walked over to his opponent anyway, extending a gloved hand.
“good fight.” his voice was rough from exhaustion, but sincere. despite the disappointment clawing at his chest, he still managed a small nod of respect.
his opponent smiled gratefully before shaking his hand. “you too, man. you almost had me.” there was genuine admiration in his voice, the kind fighters only earned from each other after sharing twelve brutal minutes in the ring. heeseung smiled faintly.
“take care of those ribs.” he gestured toward the side of the other fighter’s body where he’d landed several clean shots earlier.
the other man chuckled. “take care of your face.” heeseung laughed quietly for the first time all night.
“…dad.” the word barely left his lips. his father didn’t stop walking.
heeseung swallowed hard and lowered his head before anyone could notice the disappointment spreading across his face.
the locker room was almost empty by the time he returned. the celebration outside still echoed faintly through the walls, but inside it was quiet enough to hear the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.
he sat on the wooden bench and slowly began peeling the tape from his hands. every layer revealed another cut. small streaks of dried blood had soaked into the white fabric, sticking painfully to his skin. he hissed softly as he pulled the last strip free. his knuckles were swollen. split. raw.
he rested his elbows on his knees and stared at them. he wasn’t looking at his hands anymore. he was hearing every sentence his father had repeated throughout his childhood.
“second place is just the first loser.”
“if you’re tired, train harder.”
“winning is the expectation.”
he squeezed his eyes shut. a quiet knock interrupted the silence. “hee?” he lifted his head.
you stood in the doorway wearing one of his oversized hoodies over a pair of jeans, two bottles of water tucked beneath your arm. a paper bag hung from your wrist, the smell of warm convenience store food filling the room.
your expression softened the second you saw him.
“i figured i’d find you here.” you offered him a small smile before stepping inside, closing the door gently behind you as though trying not to disturb whatever thoughts were weighing him down.
he quickly rubbed at his face. “you didn’t have to come.” he tried to sound casual, but his voice cracked slightly near the end, betraying how exhausted he really was.
“i wanted to.” you walked over and placed one of the water bottles beside him before taking the seat next to him. “besides, i wasn’t about to leave without my favourite boxer.”
he let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
“your favourite boxer just lost.” he kept his eyes fixed on the floor, absentmindedly turning the loose tape around his fingers.
you looked at him for a long moment. “he did.” your answer was calm, without pity or forced optimism. “and i’d still choose him every time.”
he frowned. “why?” he finally turned to face you, confusion replacing the emptiness in his eyes.
“because i wasn’t watching the scoreboard.” you shrugged lightly before reaching into the paper bag and pulling out his favourite banana milk. “i was watching you.” he stared at you silently.
“you bowed to your opponent after the match.” you twisted the straw free from its wrapper before handing the drink to him.
“you thanked the referee. then you helped the other guy down the steps because his ankle looked hurt.”
“…you noticed that?” surprise flickered across his face.
“of course i did.” you smiled as though it was obvious. “everyone else was watching to see who won. i was watching to see what kind of person you are.”
he looked away again. “…none of that matters to my dad.” the sentence came out quieter than he’d intended. his shoulders slumped forward as though simply mentioning his father added another weight onto them.
you followed his gaze toward the floor. “he left before i even got out of the ring.”
“he couldn’t even wait five minutes.”
you didn’t answer immediately. instead, you gently reached for his injured hand. your fingers were warm against his bruised knuckles. he didn’t pull away. “does it hurt?” your voice barely rose above a whisper as you carefully examined the cuts scattered across his skin. “a little.” he lied automatically. you raised an eyebrow. “hee.”
“…a lot.” he admitted with a sheepish smile that disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared.
you opened the small first aid kit sitting on the shelf beside the lockers. “give me your hand.” he obeyed without arguing. you poured antiseptic onto a cotton pad. “this is gonna sting.”
“i’ve had worse.” the moment the cotton touched one of the cuts, he flinched. you couldn’t help smiling. “thought you’ve had worse?”. he let out a quiet groan. “…i’m choosing to stay humble.”
you laughed. the sound filled the empty locker room, warm enough to make him forget where he was for just a second.
carefully, you cleaned every scrape before wrapping fresh bandages around each knuckle. your movements were slow and gentle, never rushing, never pressing harder than necessary. he watched your hands the entire time. unable to take his eyes off the way you concentrated on tying the final knot.
“…i’m tired, y/n.” his voice cracked as he spoke. “i train until i can’t move. i win and it’s never enough. i lose and suddenly i’m everyone’s disappointment. i don’t even know if i’m boxing because i love it anymore.”
you looked up at him. your eyes held no judgment, only understanding. “then don’t carry all of that by yourself anymore.” you squeezed his hand gently despite the fresh bandages. “you don’t have to pretend you’re okay every second you’re around me.”
he looked down at your intertwined hands. his vision blurred. “…my dad didn’t even look at me.” you didn’t tell him to be strong.
you didn’t tell him everything happened for a reason. instead, you stood up and wrapped your arms around him. he hesitated for only a second before burying his face against your shoulder. his breathing became uneven. his fingers clutched the back of your hoodie like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
for the first time in years… he cried. not because he’d lost. not because his father had walked away, but because someone had stayed.
when the tears finally slowed, he leaned back slightly, embarrassed, quickly wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “…sorry. you smiled softly. “for what?”
“hee.” you reached up and brushed a damp strand of hair away from his forehead. “you spent the entire night letting people punch you. i think you’ve earned the right to cry.”
a small laugh escaped him. a real one. he looked at you for a long moment before shaking his head. “you’re unbelievable.”
“no…” he smiled to himself, warmth finally returning to his tired eyes. “i mean… thank you.”
you stood and picked up the paper bag again before offering him your hand. “come on.”
“there’s a twenty-four-hour convenience store around the corner.” he tilted his head. “…and?”
“you lost a fight.” you smiled playfully. “that sounds like the perfect excuse to eat instant ramen.”
he smiled at her with adoration. “that might be the smartest thing you’ve ever said.” you pretended to look offended. “might?” he intertwined his fingers with yours as you pulled him to his feet. “definitely.”
as the two of you walked out of the locker room together, he glanced once toward the empty arena behind him. for the first time that night, the loss didn’t feel quite so heavy. because although he hadn’t won the match, he hadn’t walked away alone.
your final lecture ended almost twenty minutes ago. the university campus was still crowded, but you felt completely disconnected from it. students walked past you in groups, laughing about weekend plans and complaining about assignments, but all you could focus on was the heavy feeling sitting in your chest.
today had been exhausting. your professor had criticised your project in front of the entire class, pointing out every small mistake instead of the hours you had spent working on it. your laptop had crashed halfway through another assignment, and then your manager had messaged asking if you could cover someone’s shift. it wasn’t one huge disaster. it was just overstimulating, everything piling up at once.
you walked toward the campus exit with your portfolio pressed against your chest, trying to convince yourself that you were fine. your phone buzzed.
heeseung: finished training. how was your day?
you stared at the message for a while. you wanted to tell him. you wanted to say that you felt overwhelmed and tired and that you just wanted someone to hold you for a while. but he had training. he had his own pressure. you didn’t want to become another thing he had to worry about.
you: are you still at practice?
his reply came almost instantly.
your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. slowly, you turned toward the road outside campus. your heart immediately softened. heeseung’s black car was parked nearby. he was leaning against the driver’s side door, his grey hoodie pulled slightly over his hands while he held two drinks from a café.
the second he saw you, his face lit up. then he noticed your expression. the smile faded. he pushed himself away from the car and walked toward you.
“hey.” he greeted softly, stopping in front of you as his eyes carefully studied your face. he noticed the tiredness in your eyes and the way you were forcing yourself to stand normally when he knew you were exhausted.
you looked away. “hi.” you replied quietly, giving him a small smile that disappeared almost immediately. you hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“rough day?” he asked gently, tilting his head slightly as he searched your expression. his voice wasn’t demanding or impatient. it sounded like he was giving you the option to tell him whenever you were ready.
you shrugged your “a little.” you admitted softly, adjusting your grip on your portfolio. you tried to make it sound smaller than it felt because you didn’t want him to think you couldn’t handle things yourself.
he looked at you for a few seconds. then he reached for your bag. “come with me.” he said warmly as he took your bag from your shoulder before you could protest. his actions were casual, but the small gesture made your chest tighten because he always found little ways to take care of you.
“hee, don’t you have practice?” you asked with concern, immediately noticing the gym bag sitting in his car. guilt started creeping in because you knew how seriously he took boxing.
“i cancelled.” he answered simply, placing your bag over his own shoulder. he said it so casually that it almost sounded like it wasn’t a big decision.
your eyes widened. “you cancelled practice?” you repeated in disbelief, staring at him because you knew how much training meant to him.
“yeah.” he smiled slightly as he opened the passenger door for you. “because training happens every day. you don’t have bad days every day.”
you stood there silently. the simplicity of his words almost hurt more because you weren’t used to someone choosing you so easily.
“you really didn’t have to do that.” you whispered, looking down as you played with your fingers. you felt guilty that he had changed his plans because of you.
he leaned against the open door. “i know.” he replied softly, looking at you with a small smile. “i wanted to.”
you finally got into the car. the familiar smell of his hoodie and peppermint filled the space, instantly making you feel safer. he started driving. for a few minutes, neither of you spoke. he didn’t pressure you, he just let you exist.
he glanced over “i have an idea.” he said with a small smile, his fingers tapping lightly against the steering wheel as he tried to lift your mood.
you looked at him. “what idea?” you asked curiously, finally showing a little more interest.
his smile grew. “today’s mission is making you smile.” he announced playfully, looking far too serious about it.
you laughed quietly. “that’s not a real mission.” you replied, shaking your head as you looked out the window. even that small laugh made him relax. “it is now.” he said confidently, clearly proud of himself.
twenty minutes later, he pulled into the shopping centre. you looked around.
“shopping?” you asked, confused as you looked at the huge building in front of you. you thought he was taking you somewhere to eat, not somewhere where he could spend money.
“shopping.” he confirmed with a smile, getting out of the car before walking around to open your door.
you frowned. “hee, i don’t need anything.” you told him honestly as you stepped out. you immediately felt uncomfortable with the idea of him buying things for you. he looked at you. “i know.” he replied calmly, closing your door. “that’s not the point.”
you looked at him. “then what is?” you asked quietly, genuinely confused.
“the point is that you had a bad day.” he explained gently, adjusting the sleeve of his hoodie. “and i want you to have a good evening.”
the first place he took you was a flower shop. you slowed down the second you stepped inside. the smell of fresh flowers surrounded you. beautiful bouquets of flowers like roses, tulips and lilies, decorated with ribbons. heeseung noticed the way your eyes moved around the room. he didn’t say anything, he just watched you. he then walked over to a bouquet of pink tulips.
you took a picture of the tulips and he immediately walked over. “these.” he said softly, picking them up and turning toward you. his expression was almost shy, like he wasn’t sure if he had chosen correctly. you blinked.
“for who?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer. he held them out “for you.” he replied gently, watching your reaction carefully.
you froze. your fingers slowly wrapped around the flowers. “me?” you asked quietly, looking down at the bouquet like you couldn’t believe someone had bought them specifically for you.
he nodded. “yeah.” he answered, smiling softly. “who else?”
your throat tightened. you looked away. “no one’s ever bought me flowers before.” you admitted quietly, your fingers brushing over the petals. the confession came out almost embarrassed, like you didn’t want him to know something so small could affect you.
his expression immediately softened. “really?” he asked quietly, his eyebrows lifting slightly because he couldn’t believe it. you shook your head. “really.” you replied with a small laugh, trying to make it seem less emotional than it was. “they’re beautiful.”
“you deserve them.” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity. “not just today.” you looked back at him and for a second… you forgot about everything else.
the rest of the afternoon passed quickly. every time you picked something up and put it back, he noticed.
“that sweater looks like you.” he said as he held it up, smiling because he already knew you liked it. you shook your head. “it’s too expensive.” you replied immediately, reaching for it. he moved it away before you could put it back. “but you like it.” he said simply, raising his eyebrows like that was the only thing that mattered.
you sighed. “hee…” he smiled. “no arguing.” he teased gently, placing it into the basket. he looked way too happy every time he found something that made you smile. by the end, he was carrying several bags. you looked at everything.
“this is too much.” you said quietly, feeling guilty as you looked at the clothes and makeup products. you didn’t want him thinking you expected this.
he noticed your expression. immediately. “hey.” he said softly, stopping walking so you would look at him. his voice became more serious. “what’s wrong?”
you looked down. “i just.. feel bad.” you admitted quietly, twisting your fingers together. “you don’t have to buy me things.”
his expression softened. “i know.” he replied gently, stepping closer. “i’m not doing it because you asked.”
you looked up. “then why?” you asked with puppy-like eyes. he smiled. “because i wanted to spoil you for a day.” he explained honestly, his eyes warm. “not because you need these things. just because seeing you happy makes me happy.”
you didn’t know what to say. your heart warmed up and god you were falling so damn hard for him.
inside the makeup store, your mood had completely changed. you were laughing again. heeseung noticed immediately. especially when you started testing lipsticks.
“this one.” you said thoughtfully, swatching a colour on your hand before shaking your head. “no. too orange.”
soon his hand became your personal lipstick swatch palette. different shades covered the back of his hand. pink, peach, red, nude, matt etc. you compared each one carefully. he watched you with the biggest smile. not because of the makeup but because you looked happy.
later, sitting in the car surrounded by shopping bags and flowers, you looked at him. he was smiling. really smiling. “what?” you asked, laughing softly as you noticed him staring. he shook his head. “nothing.” he replied, still smiling because he didn’t want to admit how happy he was just seeing you enjoy yourself.
you narrowed your eyes. “hee.” he laughed quietly. “i’m just happy.” he admitted, glancing at the flowers in your hands and the bags around the car. “i got to spoil you today.”
your expression softened. “hee.” you reached over and took his hand. the same hand covered in faded lipstick marks. “thank you.” you said quietly, squeezing his fingers. “but i need you to know something.” he looked at you. “what?” you smiled softly.
“even if you bought me nothing today…” you said honestly, looking into his eyes. “i still would’ve had a good day.” he stayed quiet as you continued. “the flowers are beautiful. the clothes are amazing. everything you did was so sweet.”
your thumb brushed over his hand. “but that’s not what made me happy.”
his eyes softened. “then what did?”
you smiled at him, your gaze meeting his with warmth and pure adoration. “you.” his heart skipped a beat. he looked at you a little stunned. “you cancelling practice to pick me up.” you explained gently. “you listening to me. you making me laugh when i didn’t feel like smiling.”
you squeezed his hand. “it’s never been about money, hee.” a small smile appeared on his face. “it’s always been about you.”
he looked down for a second, trying to hide how much those words affected him. then he smiled when he finally saw your smile. “…there she is.”
“who?” you tilted your head. he looked back at you, his eyes soft. “my girl.”
and even though neither of you had officially called this anything yet… the way he looked at you made it feel like something was already beginning.
the locker room hummed with restless energy. coaches moved between benches with clipboards tucked beneath their arms, giving last-minute instructions to their fighters.
gloves smacked against focus pads somewhere in the corner while someone adjusted the tape around another boxer’s wrists. reporters wandered through the hallway outside, their voices muffled behind the closed door as cameras flashed every few seconds. the smell of sweat, leather and muscle rub lingered heavily in the air.
amid all the noise, heeseung sat alone on the wooden bench. his elbows rested on his knees while his fingers remained loosely intertwined between them.
one leg bounced uncontrollably against the rubber flooring beneath him, the heel of his shoe tapping an anxious rhythm that never seemed to stop.
he’d been staring at the same patch of floor for almost fifteen minutes, barely reacting whenever another fighter walked past him. his breathing wasn’t heavy, it was shallow and controlled like he was trying to convince himself he wasn’t terrified.
you quietly slipped through the locker room door, closing it gently behind you so it wouldn’t draw attention. your eyes immediately searched for him amongst the other fighters until you found him tucked into the corner where he always sat before a match. he hadn’t noticed you yet.
you smiled softly to yourself before walking over and sitting beside him. the wooden bench creaked beneath your weight. he finally looked up. the tension in his shoulders eased almost instantly.
“hey.” a small smile appeared despite the anxiety written all over his face. it wasn’t a big smile. just enough to tell you he was relieved you were there.
“hey yourself.” you nudged his shoulder gently with yours, careful not to disturb the quiet little bubble the two of you had somehow created in the middle of the crowded locker room. “you’ve been staring at the floor so intensely i thought it might start staring back.”
a breathy laugh escaped him. “i’m trying not to throw up.” he rubbed both hands over his face before letting them fall back into his lap. his smile quickly faded into a nervous sigh. “i don’t think i’ve ever been this anxious before.”
you tilted your head slightly. “really?” your eyebrows lifted with genuine surprise. “you’ve fought dozens of matches.”
“yeah…” he looked toward the floor again, absentmindedly bouncing his knee faster than before. “but this one’s different.”
“because it’s the championship?” you watched him carefully, noticing the way his jaw tightened the second you mentioned it.
he nodded. “…my dad said scouts are coming tonight.” he swallowed quietly before continuing. “if i mess this up… i don’t even want to think about what happens afterwards.”
your expression softened. without saying another word, you reached across the bench and picked up the fresh roll of hand wraps lying beside him.
“hands.” you held your palm out expectantly, waiting for him to place them there. he looked at your outstretched hand before smiling to himself.
“…yes, ma’am.” there was a hint of amusement in his voice despite the nerves twisting inside him. he obediently placed both hands into yours, letting you take complete control.
you carefully began wrapping the fabric around his wrist. your fingers moved slowly and confidently, smoothing each layer flat before looping it between his fingers. he watched every movement.
“you always wrap them tighter than the coaches do.” he chuckled quietly, watching the concentration on your face as you adjusted the tension. “i think you’re secretly trying to cut off my circulation.”
you glanced up at him with a playful smile “that’s because coaches wrap your hands.”you gently pulled the fabric snug around his knuckles before securing it with your thumb. “i’m protecting them.”
“they’re just hands.” he shrugged lightly, though he knew the moment the words left his mouth that you weren’t going to let him get away with saying that.
you stopped wrapping for a second, your eyes meeting his. “they’re your hands.” your voice was quiet, but firm. there wasn’t the slightest hesitation in your words. “these are the same hands that make me ramen when i’m tired. the same hands that open every car door for me even when i tell you not to. the same hands that hold mine every time i overthink something.”
his chest tightened. you gently brushed your thumb across one of the fading scars on his knuckles. “they deserve to be looked after.”
“…how do you always know what to say?” the question escaped before he could stop it. there was no teasing behind it this time. only quiet admiration.
you smiled to yourself. “i don’t.”
“i just say what i see.” you resumed wrapping his hand, your fingers never once faltering. “and i see someone who’s a lot kinder than he gives himself credit for.”
he looked away. his ears had turned slightly pink. “…you’re making it really difficult to stay nervous.” he laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “i spent all morning preparing myself to panic.”
“panic later.” you tied off the first wrap before reaching for his other hand. “right now i’m busy.”
he couldn’t help smiling. he held out his second hand without you needing to ask. the room around you seemed louder now. coaches shouted instructions, fighters laughed, someone slammed a locker shut. yet somehow none of it reached either of you. the world had narrowed to your hands carefully wrapping his. after a few quiet moments, he finally spoke again.
“…you know something?” he watched your fingers loop the wrap between his knuckles, his voice softer than before.
“what?” you didn’t look up immediately, focusing on smoothing out a crease in the fabric before meeting his gaze.
“you always make me less scared.” he smiled shyly, almost embarrassed by his own honesty. “i don’t know how you do it, but every time you’re around… everything gets quieter.”
your heart warmed. you finished wrapping his final knuckle before gently pressing your palm against the back of his hand. “good.” your smile was small but genuine. “that’s kind of my favourite job.”
he laughed. “…is that an official title now?”
“absolutely.” you pretended to think for a moment. “professional heeseung calmer.”
he shook his head, smiling wider than he had all afternoon.
“i should get you business cards.”
the laughter between you faded into another comfortable silence. this one wasn’t awkward, it never was. you carefully tucked the loose end of the wrap beneath itself before giving his hand one final squeeze.“promise me something.”
the smile on his face softened. “anything.” he answered without hesitation, his eyes never leaving yours. there wasn’t even the slightest hint of doubt in his voice. if you asked him for the moon, he probably would’ve tried.
you took a slow breath. “if you lose tonight…” your fingers remained wrapped around his hand as you spoke. your voice stayed gentle, but your eyes searched his carefully. “come find me first.”
“…before anyone else?” he asked quietly, already knowing the answer.
you nodded. “before your coaches.” you smiled faintly. “before the reporters.” you squeezed his hand. “before your dad.” his throat tightened.
“…what if everyone’s disappointed?” the question came out barely above a whisper. it wasn’t really a question. it sounded more like a fear he’d been carrying for years.
you didn’t answer immediately. instead, you reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair away from his forehead.
“i won’t be.” your voice was steady enough that he believed you instantly. there wasn’t an ounce of uncertainty behind your words. “i could never be disappointed in someone who gives everything he has.”
he looked down. “…what if my dad is?” his voice cracked ever so slightly. “he already thinks i’m never enough.”
your expression saddened. you gently cupped his cheek, encouraging him to look back at you.
“hee…” you smiled softly, your thumb brushing lightly against his skin. “you’ll never have to earn my love.”
the words settled somewhere deep inside him. somewhere no victory had ever reached. his vision blurred almost immediately. he blinked several times, trying to stop the tears gathering in his eyes. you pretended not to notice. you knew he’d hate being embarrassed before a fight. instead, you reached down and straightened the collar of his robe.
“there.” you smiled proudly. “now you look terrifying.” he laughed through the tightness in his throat.
“i’ve got a pink mouthguard.”
he shook his head, smiling helplessly.
“…you’re unbelievable.” before you could answer, the locker room door swung open. an official leaned inside, clipboard tucked beneath one arm.
“heeseung.” he glanced down at the list before looking back up. “you’re up.”
the room suddenly felt quieter. he slowly stood. his heart immediately began racing again. you stood with him. without thinking, he reached for your hand. his fingers intertwined with yours. for a second… neither of you moved. he stepped closer until only inches separated you.
“…i’ll come back to you.” his voice was quiet enough that only you could hear it. there was nervousness behind the words, but also certainty. like he needed this promise more than anything else before walking into the ring.
you smiled. the kind of smile that always made him feel safe.
“i know you will.” you gently squeezed his hand one last time before letting go. “and whether you come back wearing a belt or carrying a loss…”
your eyes never left his. “…we’re still going out for ramen.”
he laughed a genuine laugh. the anxiety didn’t disappear completely but it became lighter, more manageable. he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours for a brief moment. his eyes closed. he took one deep breath, then another. when he finally stepped away, his shoulders didn’t feel nearly as heavy as they had when you’d first walked into the locker room. he turned toward the hallway leading to the arena. the crowd roared somewhere beyond the doors. for the first time in his life… he wasn’t walking toward the ring trying to earn someone’s love. he was walking toward it knowing he already had it.
the arena had emptied almost thirty minutes ago. the deafening chants that had filled the building earlier had faded into nothing more than distant echoes as workers began dismantling equipment and sweeping the scattered cups from beneath the seats. reporters packed away cameras, children clutched signed gloves as they left with their parents, and the bright lights that had illuminated the ring slowly dimmed one by one.
heeseung had won. again. another victory. another medal hanging around his neck. another interview. another crowd chanting his name.
he slipped through the arena doors into the parking lot, his duffel bag hanging heavily from one shoulder as he searched the rows of cars. his eyes landed on the familiar black car parked beneath one of the streetlights where his father stood beside it. his chest lifted with something dangerously close to hope. for once… maybe tonight would be different. he quickened his pace.
“…dad?” his voice carried carefully through the quiet parking lot, almost hesitant, like he was afraid speaking too loudly might ruin whatever chance he had of hearing something he’d waited years for.
his father turned around. his expression remained unreadable. heeseung smiled anyway. “…did you watch the last round?” there was a small spark in his eyes despite how tired he was. his fingers absentmindedly brushed against the medal resting against his chest as though reminding himself it was real.
his father nodded once. “you dropped your guard.” his tone remained completely flat, almost clinical, as if he were reviewing security footage instead of speaking to his son after one of the biggest victories of his career.
the smile slowly disappeared from heeseung’s face. “…what?” confusion clouded his features as he searched his father’s expression, waiting for the congratulations that surely had to come after.
“second round.” his father folded his arms across his chest. “you got careless.”
heeseung frowned. “…i won.” he spoke quietly, not arguing, simply stating what he thought was obvious. “i still won.”
his father looked at him for a moment. “you got hit.” heeseung instinctively touched the fading bruise beneath his eye. “…everyone gets hit.” he shrugged lightly, trying to keep the disappointment from creeping into his voice. “that’s boxing.”
his father shook his head. “you shouldn’t.” he adjusted the expensive watch around his wrist before meeting his son’s eyes again. “champions don’t leave openings.”
heeseung swallowed. the medal around his neck suddenly felt heavier. “…i thought i boxed well tonight.” the words slipped out before he could stop them. there wasn’t anger behind them. only hope. hope that maybe, just maybe, his father had seen something worth praising.
his father sighed quietly. “If you’re serious about becoming the best, stop making careless mistakes.” there wasn’t cruelty in his voice. somehow, that almost made it worse. he sounded as though he genuinely believed criticism was more valuable than encouragement.
heeseung stared at him. “…that’s it?” his voice cracked despite his best efforts to keep it steady. “that’s all you have to say?”
his father looked at him for another second before opening the driver’s door. “don’t let tonight make you comfortable.” he climbed into the car without another glance. “comfortable people stop improving.” the engine started.
a few seconds later… the car disappeared down the road. heeseung stood exactly where he’d been left. the parking lot suddenly felt enormous, silent and cold. his hand slowly reached up and gripped the medal hanging around his neck.
only minutes ago, it had felt like proof. now… it felt like another reminder that he’d somehow still fallen short. he let out a shaky breath before pulling the medal over his head. for a brief second… he considered throwing it into the nearest rubbish bin. instead, he shoved it into his duffel bag. it didn’t feel worth wearing anymore.
by the time the sun had begun sinking below the buildings, the gym was almost empty. the evening air carried a gentle breeze through the open entrance as heeseung sat alone on the concrete steps outside. his elbows rested on his knees while he absentmindedly rolled a loose piece of athletic tape between his fingers. his medal sat beside him. untouched, forgotten, or maybe… deliberately ignored.
the soft sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. you rounded the corner carrying two takeaway stirfry boxes, immediately spotting him sitting by himself outside. your smile appeared automatically then faded just as quickly. he looked smaller somehow. not physically, but emotionally.
“…there you are.” you walked over before stopping in front of him, your eyes drifting toward the medal lying beside his shoe. “i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
he glanced up briefly. “…sorry.” he forced the tiniest smile before looking away again. “i just needed some air.”
you followed his gaze to the medal. “…you left this.” you bent down, carefully picking it up between your fingers. the gold caught the last rays of sunlight, glimmering brightly despite the way he refused to look at it.
he shrugged without lifting his head. “…i don’t want it.”
your eyebrows knitted together. “you don’t mean that.” your voice remained gentle as you lowered yourself onto the step beside him. “you worked so hard for this.”
he laughed quietly. it wasn’t a happy laugh. “…apparently not hard enough.” you didn’t need to ask who he’d spoken to. you already knew. “…he said it wasn’t enough.” his voice barely rose above a whisper. his eyes remained fixed on the pavement below. “he watched me win… and somehow all he saw was the one punch i didn’t dodge.”
your heart tightened. carefully, you reached over and placed the medal into his open palm. he didn’t close his fingers around it. he simply stared at it.
“…you know what i saw tonight?” you turned slightly toward him, watching his face instead of the medal. your tone was calm, almost thoughtful, as though you’d been waiting all evening to tell him.
he shrugged weakly. “…what?” there wasn’t much curiosity in his voice. just tiredness.
“a champion.” you smiled softly, watching the confusion slowly spread across his face.
he shook his head almost immediately. “…no.” he let out another humourless laugh before looking down again. “the winner maybe.”
you gently nudged his shoulder. “i didn’t say ‘the winner.’” your smile grew slightly as you waited for him to meet your eyes again. “i said ‘a champion.’”
he frowned. “…there’s a difference?” he genuinely sounded puzzled, like nobody had ever separated the two before.
“a huge one.” you shifted so you were facing him completely, your knees brushing against his. “winners are remembered for what they achieve.”
you looked down at the medal resting in his hand. “champions are remembered for who they are.” he stayed quiet. you reached over, gently folding his fingers around the medal. “you thanked every volunteer before you left the arena.” your thumb rested lightly against the back of his hand. “most people don’t even notice they’re there.”
his eyes slowly lifted to yours. “you stopped to sign every autograph, even after your coach told you to leave.” a smile tugged gently at your lips as you remembered the little boy practically vibrating with excitement after getting his glove signed.
“that little kid wearing the oversized boxing gloves?” you laughed quietly. “you hugged him because he told you he wanted to be just like you one day.”
a faint smile appeared on his face. he remembered. “and when your opponent lost…” your voice softened. “you were the first person to walk over and help him up.”
he looked down. “…that’s just basic respect.”
“exactly.” you smiled warmly. “and somehow that’s what makes you different.” he looked back at you, confused.
“anybody can win a fight.” you gently squeezed the hand holding the medal. “not everybody chooses kindness afterwards.”
his throat tightened. “that’s why i called you a champion.” your eyes never left his. “not because you won.”
his vision blurred. for the first time that evening… the medal didn’t feel like something he’d failed to deserve. it felt like something he’d earned simply by being himself. he looked down at it again. really looked at it this time.
then, without saying a word, he lifted it over your head instead. the ribbon settled gently around your neck. your eyes widened. “…hee.” you instinctively touched the medal resting against your chest before looking back at him. “i can’t take this.”
he smiled, a real smile. the kind that reached his eyes. “maybe you didn’t earn the medal.” he chuckled softly, shaking his head as he reached over to lace his fingers through yours. “but i think the person who reminds me why i keep getting back into that ring deserves something.”
your heart fluttered. “…i didn’t do anything.”
he squeezed your hand. “you did everything.” his voice was quiet, filled with a sincerity that made your chest ache. “before i met you… i fought because i was scared of disappointing people.” he looked down at your intertwined hands. “now…” another smile spread across his face. “i fight because i know there’s someone waiting for me afterwards.”
you leaned your head gently against his shoulder. the medal rested comfortably against your chest. neither of you spoke again. you didn’t need to. the sun dipped below the skyline, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and pink as the evening settled around you. sometimes, silence understood broken hearts better than words ever could. and for the first time in a long time… heeseung realised that maybe he didn’t need his father’s approval to feel proud of the person he was becoming.
the city had begun to quiet down. a light drizzle tapped gently against the windshield as heeseung guided the car into the empty overlook above the han river. the engine rumbled beneath them for another second before he switched it off. the headlights faded, leaving the city lights to reflect across the water in soft streaks of gold and white. neither of you moved to get out. there wasn’t any reason to.
“i forgot how pretty it is up here.” you smiled as your eyes wandered across the skyline, resting your chin against the palm of your hand. the corners of your lips lifted without you even realising it. the city always looked calmer from a distance.
heeseung wasn’t looking at the view, he was looking at you. “yeah.” he answered quietly, unable to hide the fond smile spreading across his face. his eyes lingered on the way the lights reflected in yours before he quickly looked away, hoping you hadn’t noticed.
you turned toward him. “you’re not even looking.” you laughed softly, catching him almost immediately. your eyebrows lifted teasingly as you tilted your head, already knowing exactly where his attention had been.
his smile only grew. “i know.” he admitted without even attempting to deny it. he scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed at how obvious he’d been.
you rolled your eyes dramatically. “you’re so cheesy.” you giggled, shaking your head before looking back out the windshield. despite your teasing, you could already feel warmth creeping into your cheeks.
“you still like me.” he leaned back against the driver’s seat with a smug little grin, folding one arm across his chest as though he’d just won an argument.
you bit back another smile. “…unfortunately.” you sighed dramatically, placing a hand over your heart as though the confession physically pained you. the tiny smile tugging at your lips completely gave you away.
he laughed. the sound filled the quiet car so naturally that you found yourself smiling too. the conversation faded. rain continued to dance softly across the glass while the heater hummed quietly in the background. your fingers absentmindedly traced little circles against the sleeve of his hoodie where his arm rested on the centre console.
“thanks for today.” your voice became softer as you looked down at your hands instead of at him. the teasing melted away, replaced by something much more sincere. “i really needed it.” heeseung followed your gaze. his eyes settled on your fingers lightly brushing against his sleeve.
“you don’t have to thank me.” he answered gently, his voice barely louder than the rain outside. he shook his head once, as though the idea of being thanked for spending time with you seemed ridiculous.
“i do.” you looked back up at him with a small smile. “you always know when i need to get out of my own head. it’s like… somehow you can tell before i even say anything.”
his ears turned slightly pink. he looked away toward the steering wheel. “…i just like being with you.” he admitted quietly. his fingers tightened around the edge of his seat for a moment before relaxing again. saying it aloud made him strangely nervous.
your chest warmed. “i like being with you too.” you smiled so naturally that he couldn’t help looking back at you again. he forgot to look away.
“…what?” you laughed after catching him staring for the second time that evening. your smile widened into an amused grin as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
he blinked. “…nothing.” he smiled to himself, though it was obvious there was definitely something on his mind.
“hee.” you narrowed your eyes playfully. “don’t ‘nothing’ me.”
he let out a quiet laugh. “…you’re just so cute it’s unbelievable.” he finally admitted, his voice softer now.
your breath caught. “…you’re such a flirt.” you mumbled, dropping your gaze to your lap in a failed attempt to hide the blush colouring your cheeks.
he frowned slightly. he leaned forward just enough for you to hear the sincerity in his voice. “i don’t think i’ve ever looked at someone this much.”
your heart skipped. you laughed quietly to hide how flustered you felt. “i know.” you smiled shyly. “that’s what makes it worse.”
he couldn’t stop smiling. “look at me.” his voice was so gentle that it almost sounded like a request rather than an instruction.
you hesitated for only a second, then slowly lifted your eyes. he was already looking at you, completely, like he wasn’t interested in anything else.
“…hi.” he whispered with the smallest smile, his eyes softening the moment yours met his.
your lips curled upward. “hi.” your voice came out barely above a whisper as you smiled back at him, suddenly forgetting every clever thing you’d ever wanted to say.
the silence stretched comfortably between you. neither of you seemed eager to break it. your eyes flickered toward his lips, only for a second but he noticed anyway. his heartbeat stumbled.
“…can i kiss you?” he asked quietly, searching your face carefully. there was no pressure behind the question. only patience. if you said no, he already knew he’d smile anyway.
your smile softened into something impossibly tender. “…i was wondering when you’d ask.” you laughed under your breath, watching his ears immediately turn bright pink.
he looked down, suddenly very interested in the steering wheel. “…so…” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, smiling to himself. you leaned closer. “…yes.”
he closed the remaining distance slowly. his hand came up to cup your cheek with surprising gentleness, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin as though making sure you were really there
his lips met yours. softly, carefully, almost shyly. when you kissed him back, you felt him smile against your lips which it made you smile too. after a few quiet moments, you pulled away just enough to breathe.
your foreheads almost touched. “…hi again.” you whispered with a tiny laugh, your nose brushing his accidentally. he laughed too. “…hi.”
neither of you could stop smiling. before he had the chance to say anything else, you leaned in again. this time… the kiss lasted a little longer. your fingers slipped gently into his hair, absentmindedly brushing through the soft strands near the back of his neck. he smiled into the kiss. when you finally pulled away again, he rested his forehead against yours.
“…i’ve wanted to do that for a while.” he admitted quietly, closing his eyes for a brief second as he let out a content breath. “me too.” you confessed with a shy smile. “i just didn’t know if you wanted to.”
he laughed. “y/n…” he shook his head fondly. “i’ve wanted to kiss you since that night at our spot.”
your cheeks warmed all over again. “…really?”
you smiled so brightly it made his chest ache. he looked at the narrow space between the seats before glancing back at you. “…come here.”
you blinked. “where?” you laughed, following his gaze toward the centre console before looking back at him with an amused smile.
instead of answering, he quietly slid his seat farther back. your eyebrows lifted “…you’re serious?” he nodded “i think you’ll fit.
you looked down at the tiny gap separating the seats before looking back at him. “hee… i absolutely will not fit.”
you folded your arms. “that’s a lot of confidence coming from someone who’s never watched me trip over absolutely nothing.”
he laughed. “do you trust me?” you looked at him for a second. then smiled. “yes but no.”
carefully, you unbuckled your seatbelt before awkwardly climbing over the centre console. your knee caught on the cup holder. “…ow.”
he immediately reached out to steady you, both hands gently finding your waist before you lost your balance completely. “careful.” he laughed quietly, trying very hard not to smile too much.
“don’t laugh.” you looked at him with mock offence while trying to untangle your foot from beside the gear selector.
after another awkward second filled with laughter, you finally settled, straddling his lap. your thighs on each side of his hips. you looked down at the tiny space around you before bursting into another laugh.
“…see?” he smiled proudly, one arm naturally wrapping around your waist to keep you steady. “i told you.”
“barely.” you shook your head, trying not to laugh again. “this is so impractical.”
he looked up at you. not just a passing glance. he really looked. his eyes wandered over your face as though he was noticing things he’d somehow missed before. the tiny freckles scattered across your nose. the way strands of your hair framed your face. the way your eyes seemed to catch every city light outside the windshield.
he smiled to himself before he could stop it. “…you’re really pretty.” his voice came out quieter than he’d intended, almost as though the words had slipped free before he had the chance to think about them. there wasn’t any teasing behind them. only quiet honesty.
you froze. “…what?” you blinked at him, convinced you’d misheard. warmth immediately rushed into your cheeks as you searched his face, only to find him looking at you with complete sincerity.
“i’m serious.” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as his own ears turned pink. “i just… i don’t think i’ve ever actually told you.”
you looked down at your lap, suddenly finding your fingers incredibly interesting. “…thank you.” a shy smile tugged at your lips despite your best efforts to hide it. “that’s… really sweet.”
he couldn’t help smiling wider. “i’ve been thinking it for a while.”
your heart skipped. “…really?”
he nodded once, his eyes never leaving yours.“i just didn’t know if i should say it.”
your heart melted. you rested one hand lightly against his cheek. “…you’re handsome too.”
he pretended to gasp dramatically. “finally.” you laughed and lightly nudged his shoulder “don’t ruin the moment.”
you both laughed. then, almost instinctively, you leaned forward again. he met you halfway. outside, the rain continued to fall against the windshield. inside, neither of you noticed. the rest of the world had quietly disappeared.
his hands slowly moved up under your shirt. his bare hands gliding up against my ribs. you flinched softly. he noticed and immediately pulled back. “sorry i-…” he felt a little embarrassed. you immediately shook your head. “no it’s fine… you’re good.”
you shifted closer, your arms wrapping around his neck. your ass pressed down against his clothed bulge. his eyes widened. he flinched, his hands immediately gripping your hips. he let out a soft huff as he tried to ground himself.
he shut his eyes tight as he could feel himself hardening underneath you. “shit..” he muttered more to himself than you. his breath was coming in short, jagged hitches, and the way you were pressed against him was making it impossible to think straight.
he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze searching yours. the tenderness was still there, even through the haze of desire. he shifted his hands from your hips, but he didn't just move upward. he paused, his voice dropping to a rough, hesitant whisper. “can i…”
you felt a surge of warmth at how careful he was, even now. you didn't just nod, you leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “please,” you whispered against his skin.
he let out a shaky breath and eased his palms on your thighs. you couldn't help but stare at his hands. those strong, calloused hands that spent hours hitting heavy bags and winning titles. they were the hands of a fighter, yet as they glided up your ribs, they were impossibly light, as if he were afraid you might break. you loved them. you loved the contrast of his strength and the way he used it only to hold you close.
he groaned softly, his forehead resting against yours as he finally found your breasts. he eased your shirt up further, exposing you to the cool air of the car before his warmth replaced it. he let out a shaky breath, his eyes widening slightly at the sight. he didn't just take; he worshipped. he used his thumbs to brush over your nipples, teasing them into hard peaks before he leaned down.
“wow i-.. just wow. you’re beautiful.”
he peppered butterfly kisses all over your cleavage and chest before sucking gently. the first touch of his tongue made your toes curl. he sucked you into his mouth with a gentle pressure, swirling his tongue around the tip before switching sides. you arched your back, your fingers digging into his shoulders, a low moan escaping your lips. he was so careful, so attentive to every sound you made, adjusting his pace whenever you whimpered.
as the heat between you intensified, heeseung suddenly pulled back, his breathing heavy. he reached over to the center console, fumbling with the glove box. when he pulled out a small, square foil packet, you blinked in surprise, your heart hammering against your ribs.
“…you have condoms?” you whispered, a flicker of surprise crossing your face.
heeseung froze, looking at the packet and then back at you. he let out a small, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “no, i—this isn't mine. jake left it in my car a few weeks ago. i promise. he’s a disaster,” he explained quickly, his ears turning a deep shade of crimson.
you giggled, the tension breaking for a brief moment. “it’s okay i believe you,” you whispered, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.
he looked at you then, his expression shifting into something profoundly deep. he didn't open the packet. instead, he gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, but he didn't move to remove his clothes.
“y/n,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. “you’re so special to me. like, more than i even know how to put into words.” he paused, his eyes scanning every inch of your face. “i want you so badly, but… i don’t want to do this here. not for the first time. i want to take my time with you. i want to be able to actually look at you, to make sure you’re comfortable, to give you everything you deserve.”
you felt your heart swell, a soft, playful smile tugging at your lips despite the heat pooling in your stomach. you leaned in, nipping lightly at his lower lip. “you’re such a gentleman, hee... it’s almost annoying,” you teased, your voice humming with affection. “but i love that about you. i can wait for the perfect moment, as long as that moment is with you.”
but the tension was already too high to simply stop. you shifted your weight, grinding your hips down against him in a slow, deliberate motion. heeseung let out a choked sound, his fingers digging into your thighs. he didn't go inside you, but the friction of your pants against his was almost too much.
you both began to move in a rhythmic, desperate dance, dry humping against each other as the rain continued to blur the world outside. it was a different kind of intimacy. urgent and raw, yet still wrapped in that gentle care he always showed you. he kept kissing you, his lips tasting of longing and sweetness, while his hands continued to play with your breasts, keeping you on the edge.
the build-up was agonizing. every slide of your hips, every gasp shared between you, pushed you closer to the brink. you felt the tension coil in your stomach, tighter and tighter, until you finally broke.
you softly cried out his name, your body shuddering as a powerful orgasm crashed over you, leaving you breathless and clinging to him for dear life.
seconds later, heeseung followed. he let out a loud, guttural moan, his entire body stiffening as he hit his peak. he gripped you so tight it almost hurt, his breath hitching in his throat as he came hard, the heat of it soaking into his underwear.
as the adrenaline faded, he slumped back into the seat, pulling you with him so you were draped across his chest. he stayed silent for a long time, his chest heaving, looking completely stunned.
“hee?” you whispered, tilting your head.
he looked up at you, his eyes wide and glazed. “i… i’ve never…” he swallowed hard, sounding breathless. “no girl has ever made me feel like that. i’ve never actually- came in my pants before. i didn't think it was even possible to feel that much just from… that.”
you smiled, kissing the tip of his nose. “me neither.”
he chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling his jacket from the backseat over both of you. “stay right here,” he whispered, his voice promising and warm. “i just want to hold you for a while.”
a few weeks later, you were at his apartment. they were lounging on the couch, the dim yellow lights creating a cozy atmosphere. heeseung got up to use the bathroom, leaving his phone on the coffee table.
the phone buzzed. a call was coming in. you didn't usually snoop, but the caller id said ‘yuna’ so you picked up.
the voice was high, forced, and flirtatious.
you felt the world tilt. your heart dropped into your stomach. you froze, the phone still pressed to your ear. the insecurities you had fought so hard to bury came rushing back. you realised that he’s just like every other guy. you came to a conclusion that you were being played.
heeseung walked back into the room.
you pulled away, your expression numb.
"i think i'm gonna go. it's getting late."
heeseung looked at the clock. "it's only seven. let me drop you."
"no. i can take a cab. i just want to be alone."
you left before he could argue.
for a week, you avoided him. but soon you told yourself that you were just overreacting and it was just a misunderstanding. you wanted to surprise him at his next game to make things right.
when you arrived at the arena, you saw him. but he wasn't alone. a girl was clinging to his arm, her hand resting on his chest.
your smile vanished. heeseung saw you and his eyes widened. he tried to pull away from the girl.
"y/n. you never told me you were coming."
"i.. i wanted to surprise you."
the girl, yuna, looked you up and down with a sneer. she leaned in and kissed heeseung's cheek, marking her territory.
"is it the wrong timing?" you whispered, your voice cracking. "i'm sorry. i should probably go."
"heeseung, come on! i said i need to use the bathroom!" yuna nagged, dragging him away by the arm.
in the chaos of the crowd, you disappeared.
that night, heeseung sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands.
he felt a crushing weight of guilt. he hadn't told you about yuna because yuna was an obsession. she was a girl from his college who refused to take no for an answer. he had been polite to her once, and she had mistaken it for love. he had spent months trying to push her away without being cruel. he texted you to apologize.
heeseung: y/n, i’m so sorry
heeseung: i never wanted to hurt you
heeseung: please let me explain
heeseung: what happened today
you: i don’t really think there’s anything to explain
you: she called you “baby.”
heeseung: i’m really sorry you had to hear that
heeseung: i should’ve told you about her a long time ago
heeseung: i kept hoping she’d eventually leave me alone and i thought it’d be easier if i just ignored it
heeseung: y/n, please don’t believe that’s who i am
you: it doesn’t really matter
heeseung: it matters to me
heeseung: because i don’t want you thinking i’m someone who would play with your feelings
you: it’s not like we’re together or anything
you: you don’t owe me an explanation.
heeseung: i still want to give you one
heeseung: because i care about what you think of me
you: i don’t really know what we are, heeseung
heeseung: but i know i don’t want this to be the reason you walk away
you: i don’t know what to think anymore
heeseung: then let me explain everything
you: i don’t think i’m ready to hear it
you: i’m just… really tired
heeseung: i never wanted to be the reason you felt like this
three days passed. he opened your chat over and over again, typing messages only to delete them seconds later. on the third night, he finally pressed send.
heeseung: i’ll be at our spot tonight. if you want to hear me out, i’ll be there. if not… i’ll understand
you spent the next three days bed rotting. you cried until your eyes were swollen. you felt the old abandonment fear clawing at your throat. you felt like a fool for believing you had found someone who finally understood you.
finally, you couldn't take the silence anymore. you happened to walk to the spot he had taken you to. you needed to feel the air. you needed to remember why you had loved this place.
as you approached the tree and saw a figure.
heeseung was sitting on the ground, his knees pulled to his chest. he was sobbing. the sound was raw, a guttural weeping that broke the silence of the hill. he looked numb, his eyes staring blankly at the city lights.
your heart crumbled. you walked closer, your footsteps soft on the grass.
he looked up, startled. his face was tear stained.
you sat down next to him. he looked away, his jaw tight.
you hesitated but reached out and took his hands. they were shaking. they were covered in fresh wounds from overtraining. you held them gently, your thumbs brushing over his bruised knuckles.
“i’m sorry, y/n.” he looked at you then looked back down at his hands.
"i'm just so exhausted." his voice broke.
"i don't even like boxing anymore. it's just pressure. i feel like i'm letting everyone down. i'm always alone. my home is a war zone. and i don’t want you to see me like this."
you pulled him into your arms. you held him tight, letting him weep into your shoulder.
"y/n, she's not my girlfriend. i swear. she's just.. i didn't know how to handle her. i only want you. i've only ever wanted you."
you pulled back and wiped his tears with your thumb despite your own running down your cheeks.
“…i’m sorry too. i just… i struggle with trust issues and i found it really hard to believe you, but i realized that if there was anyone i wanted to be with… it was you.” you looked down at your intertwined hands as you spoke, your voice quiet and uneven. every word felt heavy, but it was the truth. you had spent three days convincing yourself to hate him, yet your feet had still carried you here.
heeseung’s eyes softened immediately. “hey…” he whispered, lifting your chin with the gentlest touch so you were looking at him again. “don’t apologize for protecting your heart.”
his thumb brushed beneath your eye, wiping away a tear before it could fall.
“after everything you’ve been through… i understand why it was hard to trust me.”
he offered you a small, sad smile.
“i’m just sorry i became another reason for you to doubt people.”
“don’t say that.. i’ve never been good at trusting people.” you gave him a sad, apologetic smile.
"and what you said about boxing.. it should never feel like this. whether you want to quit or continue, i'll forever be proud of you. i'm proud of you for the battles you fight in silence. you don't have to be a winner to be worthy of love."
he swallowed hard, looking toward the glowing city below. his hand squeezed yours. he had so much love for you.
“it used to make me happy.” a sad smile crossed his face for only a second before disappearing again.
“then what happened?” you tilted your head slightly, giving him the space to answer whenever he was ready.
he was silent for several moments. the breeze rustled the leaves overhead. “my dad.” the words came out barely louder than the wind. his shoulders sagged as though simply saying it out loud had taken everything out of him.
you felt your heart ache. “heeseung…” your fingers instinctively reached for his hand again, squeezing it gently.
“every win wasn’t enough.” he stared into the distance, his eyes glossy. “every loss meant i wasn’t trying hard enough. after a while… i stopped knowing whether i was fighting because i loved it or because i was scared of disappointing him.”
you listened without interrupting, your chest growing heavier with every sentence.
“i’m tired of proving i’m enough.” he finally looked at you. his eyes were red and swollen, but for the first time they weren’t hiding behind that familiar wall.
you carefully held both of his battered hands between yours despite the cuts.
“listen to me.” your voice was steady now, gentle but certain. you waited until he met your eyes.
“you don’t have to earn being loved.” your words came out without hesitation. you wanted him to believe them as much as you believed them yourself. his breathing faltered.
“you don’t have to win every match.” you softly traced circles over the back of his hand with your thumb.
another tear rolled down his cheek. “you don’t have to be strong every second of every day.” you offered him the smallest smile, hoping he’d see how much you meant every word.
for the first time since you had met him outside that restaurant months ago, every wall he had built around himself collapsed. the guarded boxer who always carried everyone else’s expectations disappeared, leaving only a tired boy who wanted to be loved for who he was.
“i was so scared i’d never see you again.” he whispered, his forehead falling against yours. his fingers tightened around yours like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
“i’m still here.” you whispered back, brushing your nose against his.
“i’m not going anywhere.” he searched your face one last time, silently asking for permission. when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance.
his lips met yours in a kiss that wasn’t shy or hesitant. it was desperate, relieved, and overflowing with every feeling he had spent months trying to bury.
his hands trembled as they cupped your face, holding you as though you were the only thing keeping him together.
you kissed him back without hesitation, one hand slipping into his hair while the other rested over his racing heart. every ounce of hurt, fear, and loneliness melted into the quiet night beneath the old tree.
when the kiss finally broke, neither of you moved far. he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, a small, breathless smile tugging at his lips.
soon you both walked back to his apartment in silence, your fingers interlaced.
while heeseung showered, you had cooked a simple, warm meal. when he came out, wearing only grey sweatpants, he looked at you with pure adoration.
his right hand was still bandaged so you sat him down and began to feed him.
"it's really good. how’d you know how i like it?"
he smiled, his eyes soft.
“you mentioned liking your ramen this way before and i never forgot.” you said softly as you wiped the corner of his mouth.
he smiled at how thoughtful you are. right now all he was seeing was his future wife.
soon he looked at the time. "it's late. i should probably drop you home."
"no. it’s okay, you should rest. i'll sleep on the couch."
he smiled at how determined you were to take care of him and he shook his head. "then in that case.. i'll take the couch, you can take my bed."
you looked at the large, comfortable bed in the corner.
"maybe we should just.. share the bed."
he was a little stunned but then agreed.
"can i.. use your shower?"
he gave you one of his oversized white t shirts. when you emerged, damp hair falling in waves and the shirt hanging off one shoulder, heeseung stopped breathing. you smelled like his soap. you looked exhausted and beautiful.
"lemme bandage you up," you whispered.
you sat in front of him on the couch, carefully wrapping his hand. heeseung reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
"i just wanted to take care of you."
he pulled you toward him, his arm sliding around your waist. he rested his forehead against yours.
"i thought i'd lost you."
"you didn't. i'm still here."
"i really like you, y/n."
"i.. i really like you too. i was beginning to think i imagined all of this."
"you never did. i've loved every moment with you."
he closed the distance between them, kissing you deeply. you climbed into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist. he could feel the delicate lace of your panties through the thin fabric of the shirt.
his hands slid from your thighs up to your ribs, sliding under the shirt. he grazed the lace of her bra, and you let out a soft moan against his lips.
you broke the kiss for a second. heeseung's adam's apple bobbed as he looked into you eyes, asking for permission. you nodded shyly.
he gently undressed you, his eyes drinking in every inch of your skin.
he pressed soft, butterfly kisses up your cleavage and along the curve of your neck. he lingered on your breasts, sucking them gently, his tongue swirling around your nipples until you were arching your back, clutching his hair.
you pulled his shirt off, your hands exploring the hard muscles of his chest and back. you began to grind softly against him, feeling how hard he was beneath his sweatpants.
you suddenly stopped, reaching down, your fingers gripping the hem of his pants and sliding them down. you took him in your hand, your fingers gently wrapped around his length, your movements hesitant at first. he was big, throbbing veins along his shaft, a red angry mushroom tip leaking precum.
"like this?" you whispered shyly.
"yeah, just like that. fuck."
his big hand wrapped around your tiny hand as he guided you and taught you the rhythm he liked. his breath hitching as you mastered the movement. he couldn't take it anymore, he felt too close. he laid you back on the couch, his eyes dark with desire.
he moved down, his eyes never leaving yours for a moment. he parted your thighs with the utmost care, his touch light as a feather. he kissed the inside of your knees first, a slow and deliberate motion that made you shiver, before he leaned in. his warm breath hit your wetness just seconds before his tongue finally made contact, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body.
"oh god, heeseung," you whimpered, your fingers clutching the fabric of the couch.
he was so patient, swirling his tongue around your clit in small, teasing circles, listening to the way your breath hitched and your hips bucked instinctively. he didn't rush you. he wanted you to feel every single sensation, making sure you were completely undone before he even thought about himself. "please, right there," you whispered, your voice trembling. when you reached your first peak, sobbing his name into the fabric of the couch, he climbed back up to hover over you, his expression one of pure devotion.
he braced himself on his elbows, looking deep into your eyes. "i want this to be perfect for you, y/n," he whispered, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "just tell me if it's too much. we can stop whenever you want. you're in control."
"i want you," you breathed out, reaching up to cup his face. "i really want you."
he reached down, using his fingers to gently prepare you, stretching you slowly while he kissed your forehead and your cheeks. he was so mindful, checking in with every small movement. when he felt you were ready, he positioned himself, the head of his length pressing against your entrance.
"breathe for me, sweetheart. just relax into me," he murmured.
he pushed in slowly, inch by inch. you let out a sharp gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. he stopped immediately, freezing in place. he didn't push further; instead, he stayed still, kissing your lips softly, waiting for the tension to leave your body. he whispered praise into your ear, telling you how brave you were and how beautiful you looked.
"it's okay," you whispered against his lips, your voice small but sure. "i'm okay. please, keep going."
once you nodded for him to continue, he slid the rest of the way in with a slow, steady pressure. you both let out a synchronized breath, the feeling of fullness overwhelming and intimate. he didn't start moving right away. he just stayed there, forehead pressed against yours, letting your bodies adjust to one another.
"you okay?" he asked softly.
“yeah," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. "it feels... it feels so good. just you."
when he finally began to move, it was with a gentle, rhythmic grace. he kept his movements shallow and sweet at first, building the friction slowly. every time he thrust, he whispered something loving, reminding you that he was right there with you. "you're doing so well for me," he murmured.
"i love you," you whimpered, your voice breaking as the pleasure began to mount. "heeseung, i love you so much."
the intimacy was suffocating in the best way possible, a blend of physical pleasure and emotional surrender. as the pace picked up, he guided your hips to meet his, his voice a soft command to "stay with me" and "look at me." you kept your eyes locked on his, telling him how much you loved him between shaky breaths.
as you both reached the peak together, he held you tightly, his movements becoming more urgent but never losing that tenderness. he collapsed against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, both of you shaking and breathless.
afterward, he didn't pull away immediately. he stayed wrapped around you, shielding you from the world. he eventually shifted, pulling a soft throw blanket over both of your naked bodies and tucking you firmly against his chest. he kissed the top of your head, his heartbeat slowing down against your back.
"thank you for trusting me with this," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "it means everything to me that it was you. i love you so much."
"i trust you with everything," you murmured, curling closer to him and feeling completely safe in his arms. "i love you too."
he spent the next hour just holding you, rubbing soothing circles into your skin and whispering sweet things until you both drifted off to sleep, tangled together in the quiet of his room.
the sunlight of a lazy sunday morning filtered through the sheer white curtains of the apartment you now shared, casting soft, dancing shadows across the hardwood floor. the space was filled with the scent of vanilla candles and the lingering aroma of the coffee brewing in the kitchen.
you were still half-asleep, curled into heeseung’s side, your head resting on his chest. the steady, rhythmic thrum of his heart was the only soundtrack you needed, a constant, grounding reminder that you were no longer alone in the world.
heeseung shifted slightly, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. he pressed a lingering, warm kiss to the top of your head, his breath tickling your skin.
“you’re awake,” he murmured, his voice thick and raspy with sleep.
you hummed, snuggling deeper into his warmth. “almost.”
he chuckled, the vibration rumbling through his chest. he reached out with his free hand, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw before settling on your cheek. you looked up at him, noticing the way his eyes, once sharp, hooded, and tired, now held a softness that was reserved only for you.
his knuckles had one beautiful scar. the permanent mark of a life spent fighting, but it didn’t look like wound anymore. it looked like history.
“i was thinking,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “about that first night. the restaurant. the dead phone.”
you smiled, remembering the crushing weight of that friday evening. “i felt so stupid sitting on that bench.”
“i remember thinking you looked like a fallen star,” he admitted, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “i didn’t know how to talk to girls back then. i just knew i didn’t want you to be sad.”
you laughed softly, reaching up to lace your fingers with his. “you were so closed off. i thought you were going to tell me to get lost.”
“i almost did,” he teased, kissing your knuckles. “but then i saw your eyes, and i realized we were both fighting the same war.”
the silence that followed was comfortable, a sanctuary they had built together out of the wreckage of their pasts.
heeseung had eventually stepped back from the professional championship circuit. he hadn’t quit boxing entirely he still loved the rhythm of the bag and the discipline of the sport but he stopped fighting for the scouts, the titles, and most importantly, for his father.
he now focused on his business and especially you, his number one priority, his girlfriend. he treated you with the gentleness and care you had always yearned for. he spoiled you even though you didn’t want him to. you watched his games and that meant more than anything to him. you were both there for each other during hard times. you both were the soulmates you never knew you needed.
his father had finally told him that he was proud which had brought him peace but he soon realised that the only approval he truly needed was the one he saw in your eyes every morning.
“what are you thinking about?” you asked, noticing the faraway look in his gaze.
he looked back at you, his expression overflowing with a raw, unfiltered devotion. “just how lucky i am. that i happened to walk out of that gym at the exact moment you walked toward my car.”
you sat up, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “i think i’m the lucky one, hee.”
“always,” he whispered against your mouth.
he pulled you back down, wrapping his limbs around you like a protective cocoon. in the quiet of the morning, far away from the roar of the arenas and the coldness of lonely benches, you both finally found what you had been searching for all along.
you weren’t the therapist anymore, and he wasn’t the trophy. you were just two people, flawed and healing, who had found a home in each other.
as you drifted back toward a light sleep, the last thing you felt was heeseung whispering “i love you” into the crook of your neck, a promise that no matter how loud the world got, it would always be quiet and safe right here.
🪽authors note ~ wow i didn’t expect this to be this long so i hope you guys don’t get bored 😓 lmk you have any suggestions or ideas for future ffs🫰🏼 i really wanna do fwb nexttt
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