Sinbi

‘WHAT’ you gasped, not noticing you had barked it out until everyone turned around and glared at you.

‘i’m sorry?...’ your professor had stopped everyone to bring attention back, she gave you a quizzical look, ‘is there a problem?’

you shook your head, still surprised by your sudden outburst, ‘n-no, i apologize’ you hung your head in shame, red blooming on your cheeks from embarrassment. you had been dreading today, your world literature 1 professor had told you all a week ago that you would be paired up with a partner for your first project. your major in biology and minor in actuarial mathematics required some literature classes to help with ‘scientific writing and understanding’ as your advisor put it. so you figured world literature 1 was the easiest choice, it turned out to actually be hell on earth. your weakest subject was english and literature, you were never a reader growing up unless it was about different sciences, but you always opted for documentaries and videos than reading. growing up, you’d always dread english class, anxiously waiting for whatever science and math class you could have next.

when you tell people that your favorite subject is math and then science they would laugh and usually end it with an ‘i wish’, that was your english and history, you wish you could understand it better, but it always seemed impossible. what you were least expecting was getting paired with the best literature student you knew, jeno. he annoyed you at times, acting like a pretentious asshole going around and quoting shakespeare and some other century-dead author. when you went and quoted pythagroas near him it was now apparently a problem, you two bickered back and forth in class during group introductions about greek philosophers for almost an hour, debating if aristotle was more of a math genius or a linguistics expert.

after the heated discussion, jeno told you ‘i love a good debate, you have some crazy opinions though’ he ended up giving you his phone number. it was only the first week of classes, your first ‘friend’(?), you texted him that night, but no response came. the next week you were struggling with questions your professor had given you all to go with a reading.

you texted jeno:

‘hey is this correct? *PICTURE ATTACHED*

his response chimed on your phone five minutes later:

‘no’

and that was the only response you got, no help, no explanation, you didn’t even know what was wrong with your answer to begin with. fuck this, you ended up calling him, to your surprise he answered with a ‘what?’

you didn’t mean to blow up on him, but it just came out, ‘why can’t you be nice to me for one second and help me with this student homework?’

he sighed, making your ear vibrate with the sound, ‘take back what you said and i’ll help you’

you grumbled but obliged, ‘this homework and reading is not stupid, now please help me’

you guys ended up talking on the phone for almost two hours, discussing different themes from the reading, mostly arguing about who was right, but in the end jeno helped you get answers that were good enough. he talked you through the questions and the actual themes of the reading, the elements, and showed you how to better analysis pieces of literature. you were eternally grateful but absolutely mortified at the same time.

after that phone call, you were psyched, finally finding someone that could help you pass. you were always the person in math classes that everyone went to, you didn’t have to be that person for others anymore. although you remember all the emotional baggage and difficulty when trying to help others study and understand formulas, you wouldn’t ask much of jeno, only when you really needed it.

two weeks ago you found him in the library, doing homework with books scattered around him. the first thing you noticed were glasses that he had never worn before, big frames making his eyes look much bigger in such a cute way. you figured if you asked he wouldn’t mind if you joined him, and you figured that if you asked in an even nicer way, he could help you with the literature homework.

‘hey jeno!’ you greeted him, walking up to his table, he looked up, pink lips still in a straight line, ‘would you mind if i joined you?’

‘i guess not’ he shrugged and moved some of his books out of the way for you, now sitting across from him you smiled slightly and got out your own homework. abstract algebra was your favorite class so far this semester, you never thought getting homework would make you so giddy. you couldn’t believe some people found it excruciating, while it was just a ‘fun activity’ for you. you and jeno continue work in silence, you would steal glances every once in a while, his eyes scanning over the paper as he scribbled down notes and highlight sentences. eyebrows knitting together and whispering out words in order to analyze everything perfectly. you thought it was cute, his lips would curl up into a smile after every question got answered. sitting in front of him, you could see the perfect slope of his nose, his broad shoulders slouched as he leaned into the desk, his large hand brushing his black hair back sporadically. the golden ratio had nothing on him.

not long after the trance jeno left you in, you finished your math homework and now it was time for your enemy: literature. you looked up and glanced at jeno who was writing notes down, ‘hey’ he lifted his head, ‘do you think you could help me with this?’ you motioned down to the paper in front of you, he followed and noticed your blank page compared to his one that was filled.

‘did you even try?’ he questioned, ‘it looks like you haven’t even started’

‘well’ you started with a sheepish smile, ‘i did do the reading, but i could barely understand any of it’

he sighed, his hands reaching under his glasses so he could rub his eyes, ‘okay, and what part did you not understand?’

you grabbed your packet of papers and flipped until you found the sentence, reading out loud, ‘his sense of her inferiority—of its being a degradation—of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit’, you looked up at him, offering the best pleading eyes you could muster.

he slightly rolled his eyes, ‘so, basically darcy should put away his pride of being in a higher ranking than elizabeth, but he cares more about her status than love. even while he is proposing, he still looks down on elizabeth and wants her to feel grateful that he is even considering her as a wife’

‘oh, i never thought of it that way’ you mumbled, looking down at your paper again.

‘don’t they teach you stuff like this in high school? god, i fear for your grade when we actually have to read and analyze a whole book and not just passages for exercises’

the sentence was a stab to the heart, taken aback you said nothing as shame burned through your body. growing up you’d have teachers, friends, and your parents comment on your lack of understanding for english and literature, but you’ve never heard a remark like this. it cut deep, you opened and closed your mouth, unable to give an actual response, incapable of making any snide comeback, you gathered your things, got up and walked away from him. before he started to see the tears that made its way down your face.

you avoided jeno as much as you could, you sat nowhere near him in your shared class, never looked in his direction in the courtyard and started taking different routes to other classes. it was working out great for the most part, that was until he had transferred into your biology ‘unity of life’ class three weeks into the semester, at the very last minute of course. rumors were going around that a lot of students had transferred out of his previous one due to it ‘being too hard’ and that the professor ‘was a nightmare’ and he needed a natural science requirement for his major, secondary education if you could remember correctly.

seeing him walk through the door of one of your favorite classes was a different type of personal hell, and you were having a great day so far. you softly groaned, trying to resist the urge to roll your eyes in annoyance. your desk partner seemed to catch on, jaemin turned to you, ‘whats wrong? forgot to do last nights homework?’

you turned towards him, ‘never, i was so excited for this assignment, i finished all the questions as soon as i got home… it’s just… that guy, the one who just walked in’ you glanced back to his lab table, jaemin followed with his eyes, ‘i’m in his literature class and he’s nothing but an egomaniac, basically called me dumb for not understand some passage from a book’

the blond haired boy frowned, ‘he might know some books, but wait until he gets a taste of a real challenge, he transferred too late into the semester, he’s fucked’. your lips twitched up into a smile. you met jaemin the first day of class, introducing himself as a veterinarian science major with a minor in biology. you two became quick friends after you got him coffee one morning, you ended up with two cups after the cafe got your first order wrong. he was nothing but thankful, long discussions in class that lead to topics that never related to science. you got to know him pretty well, often texting and meeting up for study groups with other students from class, you both always paired up in class whenever prompted.

‘that’s fair, would be satisfying to watch him struggle’ you whispered.

he giggled, ‘god you sound like such a sadist’

the professor pulled up his notes as he prepared for the beginning of class, ‘takes one to know one’

you opened your notebook to the current lesson: the cytoskeleton. the professor went through the slideshow while you happily took notes on cells and its structure and stabilities within the cytoplasm. once the professor was done with the lecture, he started asking students questions, seeing if they were paying attention.

‘okay, now what is a delicate coil held together by hydrogen bonding between every fourth amino acid?’ he looks over his roster of students, ‘jeno! why don’t you answer this for us’

on cue, everyone turned to watch him, his head shot up from his notebook in surprise. he obviously looked unprepared, hands nervously pushing his bangs back. ‘oh… um, i don’t know i’m sorry professor, i transferred late into this class and still need to catch up’ his hair looked wild as the tips of his ears shone a bright red.

the poor professor sighed, ‘does anyone want to help jeno out?’

you immediately shot up your hand, ‘y/n?’

you smiled dramaticly, before another breathe you answered, ‘alpha helix’

‘yes, thats correct! great job y/n… now you all need to pay attention, this will be on our first exam coming up in two weeks’ he went on about amino acids and different elements. jaemin leaned into you, ‘nice’ he whispered, a smile on his face. yeah, that would show jeno what you could do.

you peeked back at jeno who whispered ‘two weeks!?’ to himself looking distressed, you felt a pang in your heart. perhaps it wasn’t fair, stuff like this was never taught in secondary school science classes, obviously he was going to struggle. you weren’t going to seek him out and offer help though, he knew science and arithmetic were your strong suits, it was his turn to come running, beg for forgiveness and ask for help.

speak of the asshole, and it shall fart, jeno texted you later that night.

‘hey…’ you scoffed, the audacity of this guy, you resisted the urge to text him back a ‘you should know this already right?’

you texted back a simple ‘what?’

he immediately answered, ‘do you think you could help me with this bio homework and maybe study together for the exam ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡’. shameless.

giving him the benefit of the doubt, you relented. maybe it was an off day for him, ‘i guess, meet me in the library tomorrow, and we’ll start’ he hearted the message and that was the end of the conversation.

you woke up early the next day, grabbing every notebook you had kept over the years that could help jeno. you texted him right after noon, ‘this is an all day affair, meet me in an hour and bring me a caramel macchiato. don’t be late, pride & prejudice wasn’t written in a day’ he liked the message as a response. you left your dorm and headed to the library, setting up a space for a long study session. jeno comes right on time, with two coffees in his hand.

he places the bigger cup down in front of you, ‘large caramel macchiato, with extra caramel, extra vanilla, and extra drizzle’

you look up at him and give him a modest smile, grabbing the drink and taking a sip from the straw and swirling the ice around the cup, ‘thank you, lets get started’ he nodded and pulled out the chair next to you and sat down.

you got out all your notebooks, his eyes widened making you giggle, ‘jesus christ dude, how many notebooks do you have for this class?’

‘well, not all of them are from this class, i brought some from previous classes that i think could help you’ you handed over a stack of notes, which he begrudgingly took. ‘okay, now lets get started…’

you two had spent hours discussing carbohydrates, cellulose, and enzymes. sometimes arguing back and forth about answers, ‘okay so, a system of membranes that modifies and packages proteins for export by the cell?’ you asked jeno as he flipped through his notes.

‘um… integrins?’ he answered, totally unsure of himself in the process.

you smiled, ‘not quite, its the golgi apparatus, integrins are cell-surface receptor proteins… crazy how you don’t remember this from basic biology classes…’ you mumbled the last part.

but of course he still caught it, ‘what was that?’

you shrugged your shoulders, ‘i mean we learn about cells and stuff in secondary school… everyone knows that the golgi apparatus is the packaging and distribution center of the cells, i mean everyone talks about how the mitochondria is the power house of the cell, is that the only thing you remember from biology?’

his eyebrows shot up in surprise, ‘oh? so that's what this is about?’ he smirked, ‘you’re still upset about what i said last week aren’t you?’

your gaze diverted from his line of sight, thankful you wore your hair down this morning so he wouldn’t see the pink burning on the tips of your ears. ‘no… i’m just saying’

‘...saying almost the same exact thing i said?’ jeno smiled, and his eyes turned into crescent moons, happy that he caught you in the act, ‘understandable… well, uh, if you help me, i’ll help you’

you crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him, ‘not until you apologize, not everyone can be as good as you in literature’

‘okay, i’m sorry, you are a genius in math and science, now please agree’ jeno pleaded.

‘fine’ you answered.

another week passed and jeno finally felt comfortable taking the exam, on the other hand your literature professor started talking about a project for that class. jeno reassured you that he would help you in the best way he could, he helped you with literary analysis, notations, and rhetoric. you ended up getting an 85% percent on the most recent homework, excited to show jeno you made your way to the classroom.

‘so, jeno, i’ve been seeing you hanging out with that y/n person in our class’ you stopped before the entrance to the classroom, ‘they literally know nothing about literature and refuse to learn, how could you put yourself through that?’

‘oh, well, um, i don’t know, i’m just helping them with some stuff’ jeno answered. you peeked inside, he was with two other students, a girl and a boy, sitting together in a group.

‘must be pretty frustrating, i don’t know why they are even in this class, fucking moron, am i right?’ the girl responded and you could hear the others, but jeno, laugh.

you could feel your heart break as your mind begin to buzz. eyes watered, and you thought back to your discussion with jaemin, of course you guys were poking fun at jeno too, but nothing this extreme. ‘i mean, i guess one could think that, but everything about th-’ you couldn’t listen anymore, turned your heels and stormed off. stopping at the end of the hallway to through your graded paper away in anger and humiliation. after everything you both did for each other, it made your blood boil in anger and betrayal, you had to get back home. you paced to your dorm, keeping your head down so no one would notice you and your state of mind right now. skipping one literature class wouldn’t hurt.

so it did, and now here you are, sitting in your literature class with the professor reading out the pairings for the first project. for the rest of the week and over the weekend, you had ignored jeno’s texts and calls, you decided you were finally done with his games. ‘y/n and jeno’ the professor read out to the class.

‘WHAT’ you gasped, not noticing you had barked it out until everyone turned around and glared at you.

‘i’m sorry?...’ your professor had stopped everyone to bring attention back, she gave you a quizzical look, ‘is there a problem?’

you shook your head, still surprised by your sudden outburst, ‘n-no, i apologize’ you hung your head in shame, red blooming on your cheeks from embarrassment.

your professor nodded and resumed her list of partners, after she announced to the class, ‘now sit with your partners and discuss what you all want to do for your projects for the rest of class’

you groaned, you weren’t ready to face jeno yet, you probably never would be. you never wanted to see or speak to him ever again, you shuffled to his seat, taking your time to get over to him and sit down.

‘hey’ he said, ‘you’ve been ignoring me this whole week, whats up?’

fake ass bitch, you thought, he didn’t care, ‘nothing, just not a good week i guess’

he frowned, ‘damn, well, if it makes you feel better, i got a 90% on my first bio exam!’ he beamed, ‘so at least now you know your hard work is paying off’

‘that’s great, glad you’ve been getting at least something out of this’ you deadpanned.

he gave you a quizzical look, but decided to drop the subject, ‘so, for the project i was thinking about covering the tenant of wildfell hall’

you literally didn’t care and let him pick whatever, ‘yeah that’s fine’

his eyes narrowed, giving you a weird look again, ‘okay… so, the book has themes of double standards, religion, morality, and love. i can send you passages that we can cover for our project…’. jeno went on for the next thirty minutes with only little nods and comments from you, agreeing to anything he had to suggest. all you wanted to do was leave, once the professor dismissed class that's what you did, picking up your backpack and storming off with jeno still talking.

you rushed down the hallway, ignoring the calls coming from jeno behind you. with his crazy athletic built he eventually caught up to you, grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. you gazed up at him, he stared down at you, looking for any answer he could find. ‘what is your problem? i thought you’d be happy we were paired up?’ he started interrogating you.

you sighed, almost giving up, ‘jeno, can we just meet up later and talk about it? i’m exhausted right now’

he sighed and his hands fell from your shoulders, ‘i’ll text you’ he nodded, and you turned around and left. once at your dorm you threw your backpack to the side and climbed into your bed, taking a well needed nap. a few hours later, your phone vibrating next to you pulled you out of dream land.

3 missed texts from jeno:

‘y/n, are you able to come over to my apartment soon?’

‘plz stop being so stubborn its annoying plz just talk to me’

‘here’s the address lmk when ur on the way’

you texted him back:

‘sorry i was taking a nap’

‘i can be there in a bit’

you got up and got ready, grabbed your backpack and left for jeno’s. once you got there it took you a good five minutes to have the courage to knock on his door. hesitant you tenderly knocked on the door, after a second he opened up the door and let you inside without another word. he was in shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt and smelled immaculate, you gulped, raking your eyes over his body, strong arms and long legs, a face without imperfections. your heart burned in anger and panic, angry that he was so gorgeous it pissed you off, panic because all you could think was what the fuck am i doing right now? ‘do you want to sit down? i saw you brought your backpack, we can work on some stuff if you want?’

you nodded, walked over to the couch and plopped down, grabbing your backpack you opened it and got your laptop out, pulling up the notes from your calculus 2 class. jeno joined you on the couch, sitting a little bit to close for comfort, but you said nothing. his bare leg brushed against your clothed one, sending a buzzing sensation all throughout your body, trying your best to ignore him you stayed focused on your screen.

question 1: x³ + 2x² - 6z = 4 - 2y²

without a second thought you typed in the answer:

r³cos³0 + 2r² - 6z = 4

submitting it you smiled as the green checkmark popped up, correct on the first try. ‘damn, that’s crazy’ jeno broke the silence, you glanced over at him.

‘what?’ you said turned back to your laptop.

‘i literally understood none of that and you got it on the first try!? that’s literally fucking insane’

you laughed at his outburst, ‘it’s nothing really, it was kind of easy, just plug in the following x and y polar conversion formulas into the equation where possible, then you just rewrite everything and use the formulas to convert the equation into cylindrical coordinates’

jeno howled in laughter, which was contagious enough to make you laugh, ‘that’s insane, you’re amazing’

you cocked your head to the side, intrigued by his word choice, ‘oh? am i?’

his demeanor changed, the air felt heavy as he calmed down and moved closer to you. he leaned in, and you panicked, he glanced down at your lips and back up to your eyes. his long eyelashes met his cheeks, you followed suit and closed your eyes, ignoring the way your mind is screaming at you not to do this. heart says otherwise, as you could hear it beat in your ears, whole body buzzing as his pink, soft lips brushed against yours.

jeno moved in deeper, teeth clinking together as you ravaged your mouth, he was a starved man, and you were the last meal he would ever receive. it was warm and sensual, he reached around your waist and roughly pulled your torso into his. his nose bumped into yours as he moved his head slightly for better access, laptop completely abandoned to the side your arms lifted to his biceps, squeezing hard as you let out a soft moan. you broke the kiss as you pressed against his arms, your forehead leaned on his as you both caught your breath, between pants he smiled and laughed, you did not. anxiety ran your blood cold as now all you could think of was what he had said in the classroom about you. was this all a joke?

‘jeno…’ you started, and his smile faltered, ‘i can’t do this’ you stood up and grabbed your laptop and shoved it haphazardly into your backpack, heatedly rushing out of his apartment and down the hall to the entrance. again you ignored jeno as he called after you, his footsteps echoing behind you. you pushed the heavy door open and the air hit you with the wind flying through your hair. continuing down the lamp-lighted street, the boy was still trying to catch up to you.

‘y/n please, we forgot to talk about it’ he addressed your almost non-existent figure fading into the darkness.

he was hopeless by now, but still refused to give up, he moved again, ‘y/n!’

you stopped and turned around, walking up to him his build now growing hazy as water pooled in your eyes. ‘you wanna talk about it? you WANT to talk about it? FINE, you are such a stuck-up asshole, thinking i’m so stupid because i don’t have the best grade in our lit class. laughing about it with your friends when they call me a moron! you think you’re so great you didn’t even know what the chemical symbol was for sulfur, FUCKING SULFUR JENO’ you were yelling at this point, jabbing your finger into his chest with every emphasis in your anger. ‘you think you can play me in some fucked up game you have going on in your head, keeping me around so you can feel better about yourself and use me for help so you could pass an exam, i know i’ve asked you for help before, but at the end of it, all i wanted to do was be your friend, you could’ve said no, but i couldn’t. you gave me no choice but to give in with the deal that you’d help me in return, and you know what? i needed the help, badly. and you knew that and used it in a discussion with your friends that laughed at me because of it, you know how that made me feel? like absolute shit, i wanted to be your friend but all you have ever done was use me and hurt me, and guess what? you don’t have to fear for’ fingers motioning air quotations, ‘my grade because i got a good grade on my homework thanks to you, so thank you jeno! i really appreciate the help, i hope it really boosted your ego, maybe you can go fucking write a book about it or something, i don’t know and i don’t care, but i’m done’ your face was probably beet red at this point, while angry tear's avalanche down your face, you hastily whipped your face and snot that escaped during your outburst. his face focused into view, he was so pretty, and that made you tear up all over again, he could have been different.

he looked defeated, frustrated as his fists clenched into balls and relax over and over, ‘y/n, please let me explain, i di-’ you stopped him, placing your hand in front of his face.

‘do the math jeno, the probability that i would ever hear you out is slim…’ you turned and started walking away, briefly glancing back, he was still in the same spot. ‘it’s S by the way, the symbol for sulfur, maybe now you’ll remember it when you think back on this night… not so proud after all’ your voice cracked at the last sentence as your heart wrenched and stomach mangled, tears breaking through yet again.

you left him there.

you decided not to tell jaemin about what happened, but jeno’s absence was evident. you couldn’t sleep, all that replayed in your nightmare was his soft lips brushing against yours, and you swore you could still feel his strong arms pulling you forward, into him. the feeling that gave you clawed at your heart, beating you down every single time you closed your eyes and pictured his face smiling at you, laughing at you, annoyed at you. anything he gave you, you would take, no matter how much it broke you down. you liked him, no, you like him. even after everything he’s done, you still held a soft spot for him in your fractured heart. all the phone calls that turned into facetime when he would ask for help with math, and you had to show him the steps of a problem. laughing every time you would shake trying to hold your phone steady as he jokingly squawked, ‘keep still!’ when he would read passages to you over the phone late at night, and you’d have fallen asleep to his tender voice before he could even explain the motif. it had only been 5 weeks of class, but it felt like you had known him longer, despite your differences in subjects you both eventually subsided the arguments with long discussions and debates on why one answer was right and how the other was wrong. revelations that came to light after hours of going back and forth.

you stood in the shower, blankly staring at the white ceramic wall in front of you as droplets rained down. you thought about the day you and jeno were studying in the library, renting a study room within because you figured the discussion would be heated. it ended up in a feverish battle between the differences of cell adhesion and cell migration. by the end of it you were standing up, hands pulling at your roots in irritation trying to explain it to the boy sat down in front of you with a shit-eating grin adorning his face. ‘y/n, y/n, stop, stop, please, i can’t take it anymore’ he laughed, clutching his stomach, ‘i got it, while they are tightly associated, cell adhesion provides structural support and stability to tissues, while cell migration is the directed movement of cells from one location to another’

your arms dramatically dropped to your sides, ‘YOU KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME’ pointing, you accused him.

he laughed again at your reaction, ‘i just love seeing you like that, it’s cute, you know i just love a challenge’ he exclaimed going back to his notes.

you laughed to yourself, recalling the moment of the playful banter and subtle flirting that slipped out on occasion. you giggled, howled, and snorted a little too much at the memory, which silently followed into your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach, the shower masking the uncontrollable sobs that carried through every limb, appendage, and bone.

jaemin went on and on about some story about his roommates, you paid barely any attention, eyes glued to the door as you waited to see if he would show up. the blond boy slurred his words, leaning into you now, trying to get you to look at him. you turned your body, he was giving you a pouty face with big, shining eyes, ‘i asked you a question y/nnie. were you even listening to me?’ he tugged on the sleeve of your hoodie, his strength made you feel like a rag doll.

‘i was… and the answer is yes?’ you said, unsure about whatever he was yapping about.

he beamed and clapped playfully, ‘yippie! i knew you could use a pick-me-up, i promise it’ll be fun, the party is saturday so clear your schedule, i’ll pick you up’

your shoulder shook as you lightly laughed at his theatrics, rubbing your temple in exasperation as to what you just got yourself into, ‘sounds like fun’. you barely noticed jeno walking in out of the corner of your eye. he looked worse than you did, a hoodie with a stain, sweats that looked they were able to fall apart, mis-matched socks and unkempt hair. he kept pushing his glasses up his nose and rubbing his tired eyes. your heart skipped a beat when you noticed his dark circles that almost matched yours, his being a little worse for wear. before he could catch you staring, you quickly focused your attention to the professor starting class, going through the roaster and continuing the lecture on cells.

‘can anyone tell me the variations in cell types? jeno, got an answer?’ the professor smiled at him, everyone turned to spectate and wait for him to answer, except you.

‘um, prokaryotic and eukaryotic’ he dragged, sounding uninterested despite getting the question right.

‘yes! very good jeno’ the professor praised, moving on to the next question. you started to sweat, angry that he got it right and yet you were now holding on your high c- in literature class. how come he could now catch onto science but yet, you were still unable to grapple with the concepts of a victorian classic novel? or maybe it was the fact you had skipped every class this week, refusing to work with jeno on anything, you noticed the text and calls from him were dwindling three days after the confrontation, however everyday he sent pictures of his notes and analysis on the reading and how the project was going. as pathetic as it was, you continue to lay awake in bed nearly every night rereading his text from that night:

i know you are angry and probably hate me right now and that’s understandable, but i don’t want to give up on you, on us. do you think newton gave up on the laws of motion after he failed on the first or second try? you aren’t getting the whole picture, plz give me a chance to explain, i don’t even know if you are reading this, but if you are, plz hear me out you got it all wrong about that day in the classroom, and if it felt like i was using you, i’m sorry. that was never my intention, i just like being around you, you are always quick-witted and i was just trying to taunt you so you’d pay attention to me because i really like you, ig that backfired badly lol. anyway, i hope this will change your mind, and you’ll reach out, i’ll give you time.

followed by a very unserious message that you couldn’t help but smile at:

oh, i almost forgot, don’t worry about the project, but you could come to class, i’m starting to fear for your grade again (,,>﹏<,,) (only kidding!)

another biology class and 2 skipped lit classes pass and the weekend was finally brought upon the world. you held the pleasure of assisting jaemin to a party hosted by someone he knew from one of his health classes. it took forever for you to pick out a cute outfit, but opted for a sleeveless shirt and basic jean shorts and a pair of white sneakers you found buried in the back of your small closet. you carefully did your makeup, usually not taking it too far, but this was special, and you needed to feel like a bad bitch tonight.

jaemin showed up an hour later, deciding to walk to the house 4 blocks down, saying he wanted ‘to get turnt with you’ and that he refused to drink and drive. you agreed, walking sounded better than looking for a driver or someone having to stay sober throughout the night. you exited your building and found jaemin’s car in the lot, he climbed out to greet you and whistled, eyes eating up your form, ‘damn, you look hot’

you smiled bashfully, ‘thanks jaemin, even nerds can be hot you know?’

he turned to lock his car, ‘i mean, yes, but like, you always look cute, but this is like the freaky side of you, it’s different… it’s nice’

you cackled, ‘please never call me freaky ever again, i’m going to revoke your brain rot privileges’

he admitted defeat and dropped the conversation, you both now walked down the sidewalk in perfect silence with the sun now set, surveying the rows of houses in different stages of life in the moon glow. ‘it’s this one’ jaemin nudged you, stopping, he pointed to the house on the corner, you nodded and wrapped your arm around his, linking together so you immediately wouldn’t get lost in the sea of a potential crowd. he opened the old, green door, and you followed, as expected there was a good amount of people attending and as the night worn on you figured more would pile in.

jaemin turned to you, ‘do you wanna go find some drinks?’

‘yes, please’ you quickly nodded as he pulled you through the throng of people, trying to find the kitchen.

once you were there, the host of the party seemed to also be there, ‘jaemin! glad you could make it man’ they dabbed each other up and touched shoulders embracing in a ‘bro hug’.

‘hell yeah, no way i’d not come for the first party of the semester, i brought my friend along with me!’ he pulled you closer to him, now giving you the floor as all attention was pulled towards you, wincing as jaemin jabbed at your side, urging you to get closer to his friend.

‘hi, i’m y/n’ you said giving him a genuine smile, holding out your hand.

‘oh my, you are gorgeous, and you came with this sleaze bag’ he nodded towards jaemin who just playfully hit his friends shoulder, ‘i’m donghyuck, but everyone calls me haechan, its a pleasure to meet you’ he softly took a hold of your hand and bent down to give it a little peck, you giggled at the eccentric greeting.

jaemin tore haechan away, ‘alright, not too much now’ he joked, ‘it’s time for shots’ haechan clapped and guided you both to the kitchen island that was filled with different alcohol, he picked out a clear liquid and poured them into plastic shot cups he grabbed from a neat stack. jaemin lifted up his cup, ‘fuck pharmacology’ you snickered at his comment and raised your cup along with haechan who nodded in agreement. on cue, you threw back the cup and shuddered as the sweet nectar burned your throat. ‘hell yeah! another! at the end of the night i want to be able to forget about fucking blood urea nitrogen and blood glucose’ haechan laughed and poured another in all 3 cups. after that it was another, and then another, and after about 6 shots you tapped out and opted for a gin and coke that haechan was more than happy to make for you.

more time had passed than you thought as more people flooded the kitchen, wrecking havoc on the choices of liquor, haechan handed you your cup and jaemin motioned for you both to move to the living room. people were dancing, some were playing beer pong off in the corner, and others were chatting on various furniture. ‘want to dance a bit?’ he whispered in your ear because of the loud music that made the floor vibrate under your seat, you could feel it rattling your brain. giving him a silent nod he grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd, finding a spot and finding the rhythm of the song. you bobbed your head to the beat and moved back and forth with jaemin in front of you, you always thought he was attractive, but you saw him nothing more than a friend, you felt comfortable around him. you nursed your drink slowly, already somewhat tipsy from the shots, you didn’t want to get drunk too fast or blackout. jaemin grabbed your free hand and twirled you around, dramatically moved your joined hands with fever. you laughed along with him, indulging him in an embarrassing, yet fun dance that probably made you both look wasted to others.

his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close much to your surprise, pleasanton’tkissmepleasedon’tkissmepleasedon’tkissme ran rampant in your mind as he leaned towards your ear ‘don’t look now, but a certain someone is staring at you from across the room, you let out a strangled breath.

‘do you know who it is?’ you whispered back.

‘jeno’ he mused and your lively spirited fell.

‘whats up? something go down with him?’ he pestered.

‘um, kinda, its a long story’ you faltered and jaemin frowned.

‘damn, that serious? his loss, he can look all he wants’ jaemin wanted to be lighthearted, make you smile again and keep jeno out of your mind. you were grateful as he pulled you into another whimsical dance, the joyful nature of his was infectious.

after a couple more songs had passed, you had downed your whole drink and let go of jaemin’s hand, ‘i’m gonna go find haechan and have him make me another drink, it was surprisingly superb’ jaemin nodded and said he would stay in the same spot for your return.

you hastily made your way to the kitchen, apologizing to others you had to push through. the small room was almost empty, haechan was nowhere in sight so you looked for a different drink. ‘having fun with jaemin?’ a voice boomed from behind you, one that you knew all too well. you slowly turned to find jeno smirking at you, leaning against the fridge adorned in a tight white shirt and ripped jeans, oh fuck this stupid earth, he just had to follow you here looking like that.

‘yes i am, actually’ you stated matter-of-factly.

his lips twitched up in amusement, ‘is that so?’ he moved in closer, eventually trapping you between him and the liquor table. jeno’s soft brown eyes met yours, searching for something inside, however, his eyes told you everything, hope, they screamed. his hand lifted towards your face, slowly brushed against the skin lighter than a feather, taking a piece of your hair and pushing it behind your ear, ‘so he wouldn’t mind this?’. his eyes fluttered closed as he bowed towards you.

before he could seal the deal, ‘jeno’ you stopped him.

he sighed, defeated, ‘just please talk to me, you said the probability was slim, but not zero, let me explain’ jeno begged, his large hands caressed your cheeks tenderly, they were soft and warm.

you could blame the alcohol as you finally let him speak his case, ‘fine, we can find somewhere private’

he smiled, eyes disappearing in relief. he grabbed your hand, leading upstairs and into an empty room, he closed the door behind him as you took a seat on the bed, ‘alright, grovel and explain’ you lifted your phone up to check the time ‘you have 10 minutes’

he gave you a smug smile, ‘that’s all i need baby, you know i love a challenge’ you rolled your eyes at his attempt to uplift the tension fogging the air. ‘that day in the classroom, you obviously didn’t stay long enough to hear what i had to say about you, at first i didn’t know how to respond being put into that position was hard, you didn’t ‘put me through anything’ though, i had nothing but fun with you, even if it was frustrating at times. we always figured it out. but when i heard what she said after i wasn’t just going to allow it, i said ‘yeah i guess one could say that’ because these people literally do not know you like i do, i finished with ‘but everything about that is completely untrue, they are willing to learn, but it's just taking longer than some of us who take a bunch of english and literature classes. if you got to actually know her you’d see how bright they actually are. a literal math genius and a real mastermind of science, could answer any question from the top of their head, it’s insane. so while we are strong in this subject, they are just stronger in other fields’ he explained, watching you intently. you wiggled under his gaze, making you feel same, but itched for him to go on, ‘i then told her that she should not speak on things she knows nothing about and left because i will not associate myself with someone who talks like that about people i care about’ he emphasized the last words carefully, grabbing hold of your hand and lifting you from the bed, ‘y/n, i’m so sorry, it was never my intention to hurt you, ever. i care about you so deeply, you show up in every romance novel i read, every poem i skim, the stories i write… it’s all you’ jeno gazed down at you, his eyes now searching for an answer, hope, and panic could only be found in his as you studied his features in the warm glow of the moon peaking through the window.

‘you really said that? you defended me?’ you questioned him quietly.

‘yes y/n, i would never let anyone hurt you, even if you aren’t in the room, because in that case, they hurt me too’

you hummed, the haze of your brain clouded any judgment you held, he was something different, the greatest math problem that needed to be solved. ‘thank you jeno, i guess it’s now my turn to apologize’

he chuckled at you, ‘no need baby’ you laughed softly, ‘now, can we pick up where we left off? you know, someone once told me that pride and prejudice wasn’t written in a day’ he wagged his eyebrows at you, moving you into an embrace as he kissed the top of your head. you held on tightly, holding him as you buried your face into his chest swallowing his scent so you could save it for later.

the hug ended, but he still held you close in his arms, ‘i guess i could pick up another chapter or two’ he laughed at your poor pun and drooped down, so his lips could meet yours. it was messier than the first kissed you shared with him, wet and heated as you could taste the soju on his tongue. he moved at a faster pace, devouring you like an animal, jeno walked you towards the bed, you gave in falling down with him, with him climbing on top of you, never breaking away. teeth on teeth echoed throughout the room as you moaned, his hands exploring every part of your body, making your core burn more and more.

jeno dipped down to attack your neck in kisses and sucking at the exposed skin, hands finding a way to his hair and tugging slightly at the intimate feeling of him being closer than ever. ‘please, tell me you’re mine, please want me’ he breathed out, the air softly hitting your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. he was desperate, kissing you anywhere he could and waited for you to answer.

‘y-yes jeno, i’m yours’ you choked out, ‘i want you in every way’ satisfied with your response he growled and his mouth met yours once more, ‘p-please touch me’ you begged frantically, needing anything to ease the sensation that pooled in the pits of your stomach.

jeno hummed, fingers brushing up and down your exposed stomach, ‘where baby? use your words, remember what i taught you?’ it was your turn to make demands now, wasting no time you grabbed his hand and brought it down between your legs, he cupped your vagina. you groaned, you needed more. jeno grabbed the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down and threw them behind him, the cool air hit your core making you rub your thighs together in order to find little warmth.

he carefully pulled your underwear down, wanting to savor the moment of finally seeing you bare, he gulped, ‘god, you have such a pretty pussy’ he took his hand and rubbed the sensitive skin, ‘so wet. just for me, right? all for me baby’ you cried out at his words. he inserted a finger into your weeping hole, making you gasp out in surprise at the feeling of just one finger filling you up dangerously. as he pushed back and forth your legs trembled, he added another finger and brought his head down to your core, ‘i bet you taste amazing’ was all he said before he dove in deep, his tongue against your clit as he drank up your juices and sucked on the flesh.

‘f-fuck’ you mewled, grabbed a hold of his soft, black hair in order to keep you grounded, with every thrust he made as he fucked with his mouth you tugged on his hair, pulling when you would feel the band about to snap, jeno groaned, loving the way you’d use him for stability.

he stopped and removed his face, you whined from the loss of contact as his fingers also found their way outside of you, he smiled ‘don’t worry, my pretty baby, i’ll take care of you’. he threw off his shirt nearly getting drunker with the way you were taking him in, he loved being adored by you, in such a calculated way that made sense in every story. you followed suit and removed your top and bra, baring naked in front of him and laid back on the bed as he admired you from afar, ‘you’re so beautiful’ he breathed, discarding his pants and underwear he crawled back on top of you, whispering sweet nothing's as he peppered your collarbone and breasts with kisses.

‘are you sure you want this? it might hurt a little at first, but i promise i’ll go slow until you tell me otherwise’ he towered over you.

your glassy eyes met his in reassurance, ‘yes, jeno i want this’ you confirmed everything for him. he quickly lined up his cock with your cunt and gently pushed inside, his eyes never leaving yours. your hands grasped around his muscled biceps, digging your nails into them when the pain was strong. once he bottomed out he stopped to let you get used to his size, you shared sensual kisses and sweet touches, jeno doing everything in his power to make you feel loved and safe at that moment going forward, that’s all he ever wanted to do. for weeks, he had been beating himself up for taking the teasing comments way too far at times, poking fun at something you were obviously insecure about, but you did the same, he figured it was kind of the thing you two had. in reality, he wanted to push you to do better, making comments like that so you’d work harder and prove everyone wrong. no one could work with you better than him, so he had gone out of his way to ask the pressor to pair you up on the project, also making the forced proximity making you talk to him after you stopped answering his calls and messages. he should have gone a better way about motivating you, but now that he had your forgiveness, he could work on better strategies.

‘jeno, you can move now’ you rasped out, still holding on his arms like an anchor with a boat. he pulled out and pushed back in, taking it slow as you moaned at the feeling of him filling you up to the brim, jeno picked up the pace, setting a steady rhythm as skin clapping together filled the room, ‘oh fuck, just like that’ your chest heaving up and down.

he slammed into with vigor, bitting your bottom lip as you opened your mouth to let out a breathless moan, ‘yeah? you like that? fuck, you’re so tight, literally sucking me in, i never want to leave this pretty fucking pussy’ he husked, he licked your lips and kissed your jaw as he grunted, setting a faster pace, making you cry out in pleasure. he grabbed your legs and opened them wider, giving him better access to go deeper into your abused cunt. you cried as the flame in your belly raged with a thousand fires, ‘keep your eyes on me baby’ jeno demanded, automatically making you swallow as you moved your eyes to meet his, blown out pupils filled with lust as your vision of him became blurry as blissful tears threaten to fall with every snap on his hips digging into you. you’ve had flings and hook-ups before, but nothing as profound as this, the eye contact, togetherness of him never backing too far away from your hold, you were being wholly consumed by jeno. everything right down to your core, he was all you could feel, taste, see, and think about.

‘o-oh my god’ you sobbed, hips jerking up at the feeling of the ripples burning through you, the coil in your stomach tightening, craving to break open, ‘m gonna cum’ you clenched around him, making jeno hiss above you at the feeling of tightness around his throbbing dick.

‘go on baby, cum for me,’ he whimpered as the feeling for him also grew intense, the way your cunt hugged his dick was making his mind spin. jeno mumbled incoherently ‘i’m so close baby, let go, you can let go, i got you’ from his words and the way he pounded into you made you snap, legs trembling as liquid gushed from your core and past his cock and dripped onto the sheets. light-headed and dizzy you cried out for jeno as your orgasm burst over you.

you clenched again, feeling overwhelmed by the euphoric feeling, ‘oh, fuck’ jeno cursed as he stilled inside of you, painting your insides with his seed, he groaned at the sensation of finally filling you up and properly claiming you as his and his alone. he stayed there for a couple of minutes inside of you. savoring the static of the overstimulation and pleasure of release. you winced as the hot liquid poured out of you when he pulled out, the emptiness of it all. jeno watched as his cum slide down your hole and onto the sheet, he scooped up the remaining liquid that rushed out of you and shoved it back into your clit with two fingers, making you cry at the sensitivity. ‘fuck that was… one of the best experiences of my life’ he caught his breath and plopped down facing you, he gently caressed your chin, bringing your head to his as he softly left kisses on your lips, ‘let me get you cleaned up baby’

‘m tired’ you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open.

‘i know, but let me take care of you and get you dressed, i know theres extra clothes somewhere around here’ he started rummaging around the wardrobes, digging into them in order to find anything adequate. ‘aha!’ he put on a clean pair of underwear and sweats, ‘i’ll be right back baby’ he left the room and came back after for what felt like an eternity with a warm wash cloth and clean clothes, ‘these are mark’s girlfriends pj’s i’m sure she won’t mind,’ he hummed, wiping you clean, and dressing you in the soft, clean clothes. he picked you up so he could throw the covers back, tucking you in with a kiss on the nose, ‘you’re so cute’

you lazily smiled at him, settling into the sheets as you clung onto his warm frame, ‘who’s room is this by the way?’ you whispered as jeno shut his eyes.

‘mark’s. doesn’t matter. you’re my girlfriend now right?’ he leaned his head on yours.

‘mmm girlfriend yes. mark who?’ words fell from your mouth as you yawned, sleeping coming to find you soon.

warnings: CHEEKY MUSICIAN JAEMIN, swearing, protected sex (condom), fingering, oral (m + f receiving), multiple orgasms (f), spitting (lol?), dirty talk, copious amounts of flirting, confusing flirting, confusing relationship that isn’t even a relationship

nothing in this fic is meant to be a representation of these idols in real life. this is for creative purposes only. 

The stage is where Jaemin feels like he’s dead, alive and surviving all at the same time. 

“Last one!” Jeno called, and Jaemin nodded before turning back toward the crowd. His calloused fingertips fell into their natural rhythm. His favorite bass guitar, the white one, hung low over his pelvis and he jutted his chin toward Haechan, signaling the singer to present himself to the mic. 

For most of the night, the drunken crowd had paid little attention to their music and instead used it as background noise as they partied wildly, but there was something about their closing song that always got people’s heads turning. Renjun gave a small riff on his guitar and Jeno pumped up the tempo of his drumming. 

“Are you ready?” Haechan asked into the mic, an eruption of cheers answering back. The four boys smiled, Jaemin throwing his head back in a way where his body couldn’t possibly have handled the flood of pure glee rushing through him if he hadn’t. He laughed outright, but it couldn’t be heard over the booming sound systems and Haechan’s approaching voice. 

Jaemin had strummed to this song enough times to do it with his eyes closed, and his vocals wouldn’t come in until the bridge, so it gave him plenty of time to entertain himself without the mental strain. 

Scratch that, it gave him plenty of time for his eyes to land on you. 

He might not have noticed you if it weren’t for the way you were dancing, alone and without a care yet filling up all the empty space a partner would have otherwise been. You wore a simple black dress but the way your pretty body moved in it caught his interest. And with one scan of the crowd, he wasn’t the only admirer. Jaemin could only spot glances of your face through your curtain of hair, his eyes glued to you and they couldn’t do much of anything else. You were so free and full of life. 

The venue was outdoors, in the backyard of some rich frat Jaemin didn’t know the name of, and strings of lights swooped back and forth above their heads to enhance the youthful stupidity going on below. Were you alone in this big filled party? Him and the boys don’t necessarily stop by this campus too often to play, but he’s surely never seen you here before. He didn’t know what to make of that. 

Jaemin didn’t have much time to dwell. The song’s bridge was somehow already halfway through and Renjun was side-eyeing the hell out of him as he covered for his lack of, well, singing. Jaemin knew exactly what the guitarist was thinking. What an idiot. 

They played it off well though, and by the time Jeno clashed the cymbals in finality everything had gone relatively smoothly as far as Jaemin was concerned. His bandmates didn’t seem to agree. 

“What was that?” Renjun barked as they exited the small makeshift stage, raising his voice over the generic EDM music now blasting through the speakers. Jaemin shoved his bass into its case and shrugged, sending his friends a condescending salute and an insulting smile as he walked backwards into the crowd. The three of them knew the boy well enough to guess where he was going. 

“Fucking hornbug,” Haechan sighed, but he was chuckling under his breath. 

The thickness of bodies proved hard to navigate through as Jaemin craned his head over everyone else’s. After many shoves and half-assed apologies, he finally found you, who was talking to another girl in the middle of the dance floor. His eyes followed the lines of your body, but with closer proximity, he could finally see your face in its entirety. And fuck, he was ready to see much more. 

Jaemin shifted his demeanor to suit something more appealing, and with a surge of confidence he weeded his way to your side. He looked away at first, ruffling his hair upon habit. His nonchalant attitude must’ve worked, because your eyes landed on him and didn’t care to look away. Jaemin caught your stare and studied you for a moment, as if that wasn’t what he had been doing for the past five minutes in secret. 

Pretty, Jaemin thought mindlessly. 

Your friend gave the two of you a knowing look before willingly slipping away, leaving you in the hands of this beautiful stranger. His flowy shirt was unbuttoned several times down to reveal his chest, his black hair messy, its previous styling now overcome with a thin layer of sweat. There was a tattoo running down the side of his neck, and though the dark lighting around you prevented you from seeing what exactly it was, the ink stood out strongly on his pale skin. 

Hot, you said to yourself. 

“You’re from the band, right?” you asked, and he nodded with a smile. He liked that you didn’t quite know who he was. Jaemin could feel the mutual attraction, and it struck him that good things would happen tonight. He just knew it. 

“And you’re quite the dancer—” Jaemin paused, his eyes hunting yours expectantly. 

“Y/n,” you finished, satisfying the first step the both of you needed. “And what should I call you?”

“Na Jaemin,” he breathed out, stepping a few measly inches closer, yet it spoke volumes as he loomed over you. You quirked an eyebrow at him, your eyes wide and alluring as you stared up at him in a way that made his heart jump into his throat. He could see right through you, though, and he knew not to grant you false innocence. You were far past that threshold, and he pouted at your efforts. He was done playing the meeting game. 

“Do you feel what I’m feeling, Y/n?” he pondered, his voice dark and soft in a haunting combination. It was such a loaded question for him to ask, and you responded instead with a touch to his hand. His eyes flickered down and he bit his smirk away, keeping his body still as you guided his movements. Slowly, until his cold fingertips grazed where your dress clung to your thigh, and your exhale was so shaky he had to use every muscle in his body not to rip you apart in the crowded, dark room. 

You froze your movements, and Jaemin’s eyes moved back up to your challenging gaze. You were willing him to make the next move, he realized. Funny, because he didn’t hesitate before moving his hand past the hem. He hummed in satisfaction when you gasped. 

“It depends. Am I?” 

“Fuck yeah,”

It was the last thing Jaemin said before pressing himself into you for a kiss. You were glad he was so quick to jump on the train you were steering, and you figured the universe picked well when leading you straight into Jaemin. Whoever you had to thank for giving you this handsome, endearing, amazing-at-kissing man was getting a million cries of gratitude from you. 

You learned quickly that Jaemin was both a very touchy and vocal lover. His large hands reached down to shamelessly grip your ass through the material of your short dress, and you shuddered as you weaved your hands into his hair, his low groan invading your mouth. You were so lost in the kiss that you squeaked in surprise when he pulled your body harshly into his, and you could feel a prominent bulge against your lower abdomen. You were about to pull away to catch your breath when he chased your lips, sucking and nipping your bottom lip before he let you go. 

“Aw,” he cooed, peppering light kisses along your face until he reached the shell of your ear. “Looks like someone took more than they could handle,”

You scowled up at him mockingly, and Jaemin couldn’t stop from pecking your lips. How you could be so addicting, he didn’t know. He swore he just met you, right?

“Come on,” he called, grabbing your hand and leading you through the crowd. You received a couple nosy looks from the people you passed, everyone glancing down at your intertwined hands. They all must know the boy you were with. You figured you might be a little over your head, but you surely weren’t going to stop now. 

There was a shift in the air when you both stumbled into the empty hallway, the music seeming so far away and the lights too bright. Jaemin tried the handles on a couple doors and eventually struck luck, tugging you into the bedroom, and the sound of the door shutting and locking was the final nail in your heavenly coffin. 

You two got undressed rather quickly, until you were both left bare and he was looking you up and down like he was a devil sent to your beckoning. You couldn’t help but notice his build, the muscles in his torso rippling as he approached you. He kept advancing until his chest was out of sight and he was pressing against you, the poster behind you smooth on your skin. 

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, the lighting in the room dim from the singular, weak lamp on the desk. You noticed how large his eyes and how rather long his eyelashes were as he blinked at you. You hooked your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. 

“Is this okay?” Jaemin asked, hands rubbing the curve of your hips before squeezing your skin slightly. 

“Yeah, definitely okay,” you breathed out. The look in your eyes stirred something within him, and he leaned forward to press a light kiss to the corner of your mouth. It was intimate, and the skin he left behind tingled. You closed your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his lips moving to explore your jaw, down to your neck where he ran his scorching tongue. You were sighing heavily when he nipped your skin teasingly. 

“Darling,” he whispered, moving his face back up to capture your lips. You both groaned into the kiss and you were acutely aware of the way his bulge nudged softly against your tight, so you reached down to cup his length. He groaned, and you were sure he couldn’t possibly get any more attractive than that. “I don’t even know what to do with you,”

“You’re so big,” you murmured, your fingertips light as they brushed down the shadow of his length. Jaemin smiled, a cute grin with his lips glued tightly together as his eyes squinted at you endearingly. 

“Too big?” he questioned, and you nodded meekly. “But it’ll make you feel so good, right? ‘Cause you’ll take it. You’ll take it just for me and I’ll let you cum,”

You melted at his words and you were surprised he had such quickening control over you. Jaemin was just so damn assertive that he managed to weaken your resolve. 

“Would you like that, baby?” Jaemin grabbed you by the waist and peeled you off the wall, and the two of you stumbled over to the bed as he twisted around and let you rest on the mattress first. He followed right behind and slotted a knee between your legs to pry them open. “You just want someone to take care of you,”

“Want you to take care of me,” you replied. Jaemin hummed in agreement. 

“I’ll do more than that,” he promised, placing small kisses on your boob that almost tickled. Daringly, you shifted your bodies until his back hit the sheets. Jaemin sucked in a breath as you wrapped your hand around his length, letting you stroke him a few times before turning him over on his back. He scooted up the sheets so he could lean against the headboard and get a proper look at you. Even if he wanted to be in control of the situation, he could never deny you as you knelt between his legs, the curve of your ass taunting him. 

Jaemin finally pulled his underwear off, tossing it somewhere off the bed and you smiled at seeing his erect cock. It was big, incredibly thick and Jaemin was clearly aware as he smirked at you, the pretty girl practically drooling at the sight of him.  You licked your lips and peered up at him but he was only looking at you with dark, hooded eyes, encouraging you to start. You grabbed the base of his cock, giddy at the way your hand couldn’t quite wrap around its entirety. Jaemin hissed as you licked up to the tip, several times until you were satisfied with the saliva coating his length. 

“Holy shit,” he panted, your mouth wrapping delicately over his swollen head as your tongue traced the underside. Jaemin was visibly sweating now, the ridges of his abdomen rising and falling with his labored breaths. Without warning you sank lower, his tip bordering on the entrance of your throat. He choked out a low groan and admired you with pupils blown out from the pleasure. 

You sucked harshly as you bobbed your head up and down, focused entirely on the way his face contorted and how hot he sounded. You pulled away for a second to breathe, and Jaemin took the opportunity to lunge his upper body forward and grab your hair, forcing your head back. 

“Open,” he muttered, and your jaw opened obediently. He smirked at your compliance and ran his thumb across your bottom lip affectionately. You watched as he leaned in close, and you were almost desperate for the kiss you were anticipating, but you weren’t disappointed when instead he spit into your mouth and jerked your mouth closed himself. Fuck. 

You hummed in approval and turned your attention back to his cock, leaning over his tip and slowly letting both yours and his saliva drip onto his flushed length before taking it into your mouth once again. His thighs were tense under your palms and you braced yourself, trying to go lower, but you gagged around his length without getting barely more than half his length inside. You tore off of him and coughed slightly. 

“Maybe it is too big for you,” Jaemin sighed with fake sympathy, his hand lazily reaching up to caress your cheek. You relaxed into his hand for a second, your face leaning into his touch, but you were interrupted as his hand moved to roughly grab your face. You were practically dripping onto the bed. “What are you going to do with such a big cock?”

“I’ll take it like a good girl,” you answered instantly, your words a bit muffled from the hold he had on your cheeks, and he groaned at your words. 

Jaemin had heard enough, and he disregarded the blowjob you were giving him so he could switch your positions. You nearly screamed when he thrusted two fingers into you, curling them deliciously. Your legs twitched as he pumped them slowly but deeply into you, the loud sounds coming from your dripping pussy resonating about the room embarrassingly. The music from downstairs was muffled but it felt like a soundtrack to whatever movie you and Jaemin were living in together, fucking each other like it was love when you had only just learned the other’s name. 

“So fucking wet,” he growled, his thumb moving up to rub your clit as his fingers sped up. He was a bit sloppy as his finger slipped around your bud, but his touch was intoxicating as he brought you closer to your impending climax. You were so sensitive that it was no surprise. 

“Jaemin, fuck,” you moaned as he scissored his fingers inside of you, surely stretching you out for what was coming next. Jaemin was so good, but he went one step further as he leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud and laving over it repeatedly. His bangs tickled your skin as he hovered over you, and you let one hand go from the sheets so you could brush his hair back and bunch it in your grip. 

“Cum for me, Y/n. I want you to cum on my fingers,” he spoke around your breast, shifting to move to the other as he rubbed your clit harder. Your eyes squeezed shut, Jaemin humming in satisfaction as your walls clamped around his hands as he slowed his thrusts down. 

“That’s it,” His mouth and fingers left you as you layed there, recovering. Your head was nearly spinning and you had yet to open your eyes, but they shot open when Jaemin trapped your clit in his mouth, sucking hard. 

“Jaemin! Oh my fucking god,” you moaned, but he didn’t let up as he enjoyed the way your bud pulsed lightly on his tongue. Your hands were woven into his soft hair, your back arching and your thighs attempting to close around his head. He stopped, growling and using his strong arms to pry your legs open further than they were before. 

“Stay fucking still,” he demanded, diving down and shoving his tongue into your entrance, gathering all the arousal and cum from your leaking hole. Jaemin moaned at your taste, traveling as deep as possible just so he could swallow it all down. 

You were twitching pathetically by the time he was satisfied, your pussy covered more in his spit than your juices like he owned it. Maybe he did. 

“So pretty,” he murmured, but you weren’t sure if he was talking about you or your cunt as his eyes darted between the two. You rested your hands over your head, staring up at his handsome face bashfully, and he let out the most adorable giggle as he moved back up to you. He grabbed your hands, kissing your knuckles. “Fucking cute. What am I going to do with you?”

He chuckled as you bucked your hips up to meet his painfully hard cock, getting the message. Jaemin prayed to whoever’s room this was as he opened the drawer to the nightstand. With some kind of godsent luck he grabbed one of the foil packages and tore it open with his teeth, fumbling the condom between his moist fingers before you sighed and grabbed it from him. 

“Not to be impatient, but I need you. Right now,”

Your tone was demanding and urgent, sparking Jaemin with intense need. “I think I’m in love with you,” he blurted, and even though it was clearly a joke, both of your hearts paused for a split second at the word thrown so casually. The feeling was mutually ignored. Jaemin couldn’t even chastise himself over his stupid word choice when you were looking up at him like that, with your glassy eyes and parted lips. 

You got the condom on with ease, Jaemin’s face flushing with fleeting embarrassment. 

He pumped his cock in his large, veiny hand as he lined his head up with your entrance, breaching your entrance with just the very tip. Your hands ventured to his back, feeling the sharpness of his shoulder blades as you ran your fingertips across. He shuddered at the way you touched him so delicately, but his gaze hardened and he focused back on shoving his cock into you. 

He went slowly but it still felt impossible to accommodate his length, his girth seeming to expand the lower you got on his cock. You whined and pressed your hands to his abs, and he paused for a moment wondering if you wanted him to stop. His entire demeanor shifted. 

“Are you okay, princess?” he asked, reaching a hand up to brush the strands of hair falling over your face. 

“I’m okay,” you whispered, pecking his lips, and Jaemin groaned as you clenched around him, his length nearly entirely inside of you. 

“Just a bit more,”

You were relieved when his skin finally met yours, and for a moment you reveled in the feeling of him bottomed out inside of you. He was stretching you out just as much as you thought he would, the burning sensation slightly painful but incredibly addicting. From the look on his face you figured Jaemin was doing more than just enjoying it, too. 

Jaemin sat up a bit more so he had more control over his movements, gripping your hips in his sweaty hands so he could slowly slide in and out of your scorching heat. His lips were pursed and he was breathing heavily out of his nose, something he would do to get a grip on himself when it felt too fucking good. 

“My baby’s never been taken care of, huh? This tight little pussy was just asking to be fucked,” Jaemin noticed how sensitive you were to every inch he pumped into you, and he almost felt sorry as you whined at the size of his cock. With how hard you squeezed around him, he couldn’t help but love it just the same. 

There was something about the way Jaemin looked at you that got you impossibly more aroused, the intensity of his gaze proving to get you all hot and bothered inside. It felt like your insides were twisting from both his dick and the butterflies he gave you, a dehumanizing combination as you laid there at the mercy of him. As he began to pick up the pace your moans got louder, spurring him on as they turned into screams of pleasure. 

“You like it that much?”

“I love it. Love your cock so much,” you cried, your back arching into his thrusts. Your walls were stretching nearly beyond their limit as he forced his cock into you over and over again, and your body felt like it was levitating right off the bed. Jaemin’s head spun at the sight of you in such intense pleasure. On a whim of spontaneity, he pulled his cock out of you. 

“Hands and knees,” he spoke, and he didn’t mean to sound so demanding, but the deep gruffness of his voice gave a different impression. He was surprised when you whimpered, flipping over obediently and displaying your ass to him.

“Oh?” he perked up, grabbing your ass and spreading you open so he could properly see your wet cunt, your hole clenching sporadically around nothing but air. “I didn’t know you could be this messy. So beautiful. Everything about you,” 

Jaemin used one hand to guide his length back to your pussy, but instead of entering into you like you hoped he would, he opted to slide himself in between your dripping folds teasingly. His cock slid up to the curve of your ass and it rested so heavily against your skin. 

“Jaemin,” you whined, dragging his name out. “Please,”

“Please what?” he asked, but when you opened your mouth to reply the tip of his cock caught on the hood of your clit, sending an intense pang of pleasure up your body. You couldn’t speak as your mouth dropped open, your upper body collapsing as you pressed your cheek into the soft sheets. He tsked disapprovingly, his hand immediately threading through your hair as he used it to pull you up. You caught yourself on your hands, your back now arching up as he continued rocking his length against your folds. 

“Please fuck me,” you answered, your body tingling with excitement at his roughness. You really, truly couldn’t have asked for a better outcome from coming to this party. Truthfully, Jaemin was too needy himself to delay this any longer, your answer good enough for him to sink back into you. He could make you beg more later, another time, he thought. 

The new angle gave him an impossibly deeper reach into your cunt, hitting a certain spot inside of you that made you cry out. Jaemin was perfect, you thought. Perfect face, perfect body, perfect cock. And now you were close to having a second orgasm in the bed of a stranger. In a house you’ve never been to, at a party filled with faces you barely knew. It was all so exciting. 

“I’m going to cum,” you panted, your words a bit choked as your head was still tugged back. Jaemin took it as his cue to reach down and rub your clit earnestly, wanting to give you your release before he reached his own. 

“Mmh, so good for me,” he hummed, clenching his teeth at the way your walls were tightening around him. You were so close, just a bit more.

Jaemin’s thrusts had slowed and he wasn’t hammering into you anymore, instead giving slow, hard thrusts that brought a new form of pleasure. It was just what you needed in order to reach your climax. 

“Jaemin, fuck. Shit,” you moaned, lewd sounds coming from both your mouth and your pussy. He released your hair and you collapsed back into the pillows, your hips pushing back into him as you came down from your peak. You weren’t sure if a second or an hour had passed when Jaemin then pulled his length out of you, using his grip on your hips to flip you onto your back once again. 

You were looking up at him with a fucked out expression, and Jaemin decided that you had had enough for tonight. He moved to leave the bed but you whined, and he turned back to you and your pouty eyes. 

“You haven’t cum yet,” you complained, spreading your legs to display your weeping cunt to him. Jaemin had little self control around you yet he shook his head. 

“It’s alright, this was more than enough. I’m going to clean you up, okay?” 

His thoughtfulness only made you want him even more. 

Jaemin ignored his painful erection and turned away, nearing the bathroom door when his movements halted from the sound of a whiny moan. His gaze shot toward you and you were laying in the sheets, two fingers stuffed in your pussy. You were coaxing him. You were desperate. 

Your eyes were closed from the overstimulation, and you didn’t know Jaemin had approached you until he grabbed your arm and ripped your touch away. You trapped your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress your victorious smile. 

“Such a fucking brat,” Jaemin growled, pinning both your arms above your head with only one hand. You were defenseless like this and he knew it. “You want my cum that bad. So badly you’ll make me mad,” He tutted at you disapprovingly. 

“You want to act like a cumslut?” Jaemin no longer wasted any time, ramming his length into you in one smooth thrust. You keened, in love with the fact that this was his second time entering you, yet you weren’t quite adjusted to his size. “I’ll fuck you like one,”

You regretted nothing as Jaemin pounded into you over and over again, your body moving both up and deeper into the mattress from the sheer force of his thrusts. He wasn’t gentle with you anymore, not that he was before, but his intensity now paled what you thought was his version of rough. 

And you thought he made you feel good before? This time, you were sure you would never forget him and his—special set of skills. 

Jaemin’s stamina was quite impressive, chasing his own high. You could feel him everywhere. In your cunt, your chest, even the tips of your toes as they curled. You were screaming into the open air, and Jaemin found it in him to kiss you as if it would quiet you. But who was he kidding. He wanted the entire party to hear you as he fucked you into a stupid, blabbering mess. 

“Fuck, you’re going to cum again, aren’t you?” Jaemin taunted, noting the way you clenched around him. “I’m too generous. Maybe I shouldn’t let you cum. Or maybe I’ll make you cum again. And again, and then one more time, until you’re begging me to stop,”

You couldn’t speak, you could barely even breathe, but you forced your eyes open and met his own, and then you did something that nearly threw Jaemin off the bed. You had the audacity to smile, even throwing in a bubbly, infectious laugh as if he weren’t balls deep inside of you. Huh, you sure knew how to surprise him. He liked that. 

He actually loved it, but he figured it wouldn’t make a difference. 

It did. 

Jaemin sustained his pace and it wasn’t until you were teetering dangerously over the edge did you feel him begin to twitch inside of you. Sweat dripped down his face and his bangs sat attractively on his forehead, framing his beautiful features. For a moment you realize you’d forgotten how handsome Jaemin really was, and for much longer you realized how genuinely infatuated you were with him, somewhere far past the sexual level. It was scary. So scary that you pushed it to the back of your mind so it wouldn’t distract you any longer. 

“I’m close,” he groaned out, his hand reaching down to your clit to ensure you both reached your peaks one last time. It only took one flick of his index finger on your swollen bud for you to come undone, your cunt wrapping so tightly around his cock Jaemin could barely bring himself to move. He just wanted to relish in the warmth. 

He looked down at you just as you looked up at him, and the eye contact felt much more intimate than it probably should have. 

His cum shot into the condom yet you could feel every twitch of his length inside of you. His breathing was ragged and you felt a sick satisfaction knowing he was just as fucked out as you were. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he praised, looking down at his softening cock and seeing the white creamy cum you left on his covered dick as a trace of your arousal. He had to look away before he got painfully hard again. 

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured to you, and you lowered your hips back onto the bed as you heard him open the door to the bathroom. You heard the faucet running before his footsteps approached again, and you turned over to watch him struggle pulling his underwear back up whilst holding a dripping wet cloth in one of his hands. You giggled at his disdain. He eventually got them up and walked back over to the bed, and you hummed in appreciation as he cleaned you up, the unexpected aftercare giving you another reason to like this boy. When he was finished, he comically tossed the dirtied towel onto the desk across the room, uncaring if both of your cum was on the table. 

“What time is it?” you asked him as he crawled into bed next to you. He pulled you into his chest and yawned. 

“Time to go to sleep,”

You sighed, searching the room for some sort of clock, and on the desk there was an expensive looking computer that was dim with the time and date softly lit on the sleeping device, the time reading past midnight. 

“I have to go. My roommate is expecting me back,”

“No you don’t,” Jaemin groaned, hugging you even tighter. He was warm against your back and you considered staying there forever, but you did not want Hina to barge into a house of sleeping, drunk frat boys looking for you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, twisting in his hold to face him. You caressed your hand over his cheek, combing through his hair and down to his neck. “Jaemin, you can’t be asleep already,”

“I was hoping if I faked it you would stay,” he whispered, his eyes finally opening and he sighed, sitting up. He was the first to stand and he offered a hand out to you as you followed after him, the both of you redressing in the clothes scattered about the floor. 

“Can I keep these?” he asked, holding up your lace panties like a trophy. You looked at him, appalled. 

“Why?”

“Think of it as a warranty. If you want these back, that means I’ll be seeing you again,” You chuckled at him, but you reached your hand out expectantly. He reluctantly gave it back. 

“Thank you sir,” you said, but as you reached out to grab it Jaemin grabbed your hand and pulled you into him instead. You had no time to adjust yourself as he kissed you ferociously, a clash of teeth and intensity. Something slid against your chest as Jaemin shoved some sort of paper into the top of your dress, biting your bottom lip teasingly before pulling away. 

“You know, the boys and I don’t stay in one place for very long,” Jaemin sighed, buttoning his pants and haphazardly fixing his hair. “Don’t be a stranger, got it? I’m expecting full compensation for my generosity—” It was your turn to cut him off as you kissed him, softer that time, savoring the feeling of the gentle kiss. You both melted into one another, falling even faster. 

“So are you going to, like, give me your number or something?” you asked, but Jaemin surprisingly shook his head. He must’ve seen the disappointment practically exuding out of you, but he only smiled and pet your hair affectionately. 

“I believe that those who are meant to be in my life will appear on their own. Or maybe I just love the chase,” Jaemin explained, and the look in his eyes told you to believe him. To trust him. “I’ll find you again, Y/n,”

“Well then, goodnight, Na Jaemin,” you called as you slowly slipped away from his touch, then his presence, until you walked out of the room with a stupid, gleeful smile stretched wide on your face. You pulled the paper out from your bra and laughed knowingly as you unfolded the amateur band poster. 

Hello Future: The Band 

Want us at a gig? Hit us up. We can drive.

Jaemin was left alone in the room, and he closed the door shut behind you and collapsed onto the mattress, the smell of your perfume encasing him. He stared up at the ceiling, the same goofy grin plastered on his face as well. 

Jaemin was convinced you were different. There was something about you that made him feel something he couldn’t shake, but it was quite possibly the most euphoric, thrilling emotion he’d ever experienced. He’d never looked so forward to seeing a hookup again, if that’s what he could call you. He’d never been completely sober after one of these stupid frat parties, either. 

He couldn’t get you out of his fucking head. Not that he minded much.

------------------------------

Jaemin was gone the next morning. It hadn’t been the plan to leave so soon, but the band was called back by their producer. Something about putting some new music out. 

You continued living your life without much of its normalcy being disrupted, but you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t think about a certain black haired bassist from time to time. And, okay, maybe you searched up his band’s socials. Jaemin didn’t seem to have a personal account, though, which you were quite disappointed about. 

“Yeah, they’re pretty popular on the college party scene,” Hina said distractedly as she brushed her hair in front of the mirror, your older roommate much more acquainted with the boys’ reputation than you. It didn’t stop you from asking, but you left a few key details of that night to keep to yourself. “I heard they get paid a lot, too. Why were you asking?” 

“Just thought they were cool,” you replied nonchalantly. “You know how I am with music,” 

Hina hummed in reply. “I’m pretty sure Yangyang knows them. Probably produced a song for them once or twice. You should probably ask him, if you’re really interested,”

And ask Yangyang you did. 

“Are you really using me as a mutual friend right now?” he chastised, shaking his head as you trailed behind him like a sad puppy. 

“Oh, please, Yangyang. You should be glad I’m even speaking to you right now!” 

“Says the girl I had to drag out of bed after a massive hangover. I could’ve gotten kicked out if someone saw me on the girls’ floor. The things I do for you,” 

You sped up a little and parked yourself in front of the boy, forcing him to halt his steps. You rubbed your hands together pleadingly but only as a last resort. 

“If you have his number, I swear I will do anything,” 

“Anything?” the boy pondered, rubbing his chin in exaggerated interest. You slapped his hand away. “Ouch. What’s got you so interested in Jaemin anyway? Is it the tattoo? I bet it’s the tattoo—“ 

“I swear Yangyang, I’m about to tattoo a hand mark on your left ass cheek if you don’t—“ 

“My gosh! Keep you and your hands away from my money makers. I don’t even have his number, anyway. I do have Haechan’s, though. The vocalist with the killer voice,” 

“That’ll barely get me anywhere!” 

“Then I don’t know what to tell you. I’ll see you at the gig tonight though, yeah?” 

“Whatever. See? This is why you owe me,” 

“Of course, my beloved friend,”

“Shut up. It’s too early for this,” 

~ 

You were dressed to impress and by the time you had finished your makeup you realized all too late that you were running short on time. Yangyang was going to run your ear off if you weren’t punctual. 

“Have fun!” Hina called after you, hyping you up as you left the room stumbling to get your heels on. 

The club was dark, shadows packing every corner you could see through the entrance as you approached. You gave a dazzling smile to the familiar bouncer, Johnny, who gave you a fleeting grin, jutting his chin toward the side of the building before checking another ID. 

“There she is!” someone cheered just as you opened the door. Karina rushed up and wrapped her arms around you, the subtle scent of something sickeningly sweet encasing you. 

“Is it a pregame kind of night, Rina?” you chuckled, parting from your friend and sitting yourself in front of one of the vanity mirrors. The lighting aided you as you touched your makeup one last time, glancing at the clock and knowing the shift was about to begin. 

You carried a tray of empty martinis, balancing it on your forearm as you weaved your way through the tables. You approached the bar and knocked twice, signaling Doyoung’s attention. 

“Looking hot, Y/n” he teased, tossing you a napkin to dab on your sweaty forehead. 

“I’m about to get a lot more sweaty soon,” you sighed. Just as you finished, a majority of the large room grew pitch black as all of the fluorescent lights pointed toward the stage. They always put together the DJ set the nights you and your friends were scheduled, Yangyang standing behind the table as he spoke about the night only just beginning. 

There were cheers throughout the crowd as you made your way up to the stage, giving the crowd an endearing smile as you, Karina and Yeji got into formation. Yangyang pressed a button and the music came to life, and you danced like you always did—like you had bills to pay. 

After finishing your performance the three of you scrambled to collect the money scattering the floor, giving a quick wave and blowing a few kisses before sauntering off the stage and back into the dressing rooms. Yeji counted every bill and split it evenly between the three of you, satisfied with the amount. 

“It was a good night,” Karina commented, fanning her bills in her face with a smile. 

“That’s because they went crazy for your little solo,” you joked. “Anyways, I have to go. Don’t spend it all tonight, okay?” 

Your best friends only scoffed at you, giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before you stuffed the money in your bag and walked out. Just as you were about to approach Johnny and make small talk, a man stopped you in your tracks. You looked between him and Johnny with caution, but your friend had already noticed, inching  toward you slowly but intimidatingly. 

“Hello! I would like to introduce myself. My name is Park Yeojin and I work for a film studio,” he handed you his business card, and you took it.

“Uh, I’m Y/n,” you replied. He took your name in stride as he continued. 

“I’m actually in town on vacation, and I surely wasn’t planning to talk business while going out to the club with my friends, but I truly think you’re amazing. Stunning, really. Anyways, one of my business partners is shooting a music video, and I think you would be perfect as the starring role,” 

Johnny shot you a thumbs up with an amused expression as he backed off. You glanced down at the contact info in your hands. SM Filming Studios. Huh, seems legit enough. 

“Will I be getting paid?” you questioned, feeling embarrassed when the man simply laughed. 

“Oh honey, have you not heard of SM before? You’ll be paid generously, I’m sure,” he explained, adjusting his glasses, and you took notice of the expensive looking watch on his wrist. “The artists that hire us are household names, but you’ll be shooting with an up-and-coming group,” 

He leaned in closer, a smile on his face. “I think you’ll take a liking to them. Will you think about it and give me a call in the next couple of days? I anticipate that the film will be shot sometime next week,” 

“I sure will, Mr. Park,” 

~

“SM Film Studios. Please state your business,”

“Hi,” you answered nervously. “I was hoping I could speak with Mr. Park Yeojin?” 

“I’ll see if he’s in a meeting. Could I have your name, please?” 

“Y/n,”

“Thank you, if you could stay on the line—“ the receiver went dead for a moment, a popular radio song sounding. You had done some research on the company in hopes it would help you make your decision, so you were aware that this song was one that they had worked on. 

“Y/n! Pleasure to hear from you,” a voice boomed, one you recognized. “Here to bring me good news, right?” 

“Of course,” you grinned. “I’m on board with the project, if the offer still stands,” 

“Thank goodness! I took a gamble on you, you know. I convinced my coworker not to hold auditions, telling him that he needed to trust me that you were worth waiting for,” You were flattered by all of his praise, and it gave you a boost of confidence. You had doubted if you were worth this big-shot company’s time. 

“So, when do we start?” you asked. Being a college student, it was pretty easy to travel somewhere for a few days (as long as you forced Yangyang to take notes for you while you were gone). 

“Oh, that’s right. I’ll be needing to hand you over to Changmin for this. He’ll be the director and PD for the shoot. I’ll be giving him your information to contact you and I’ll go ahead and send the electronic paperwork over,”

“Thank you so much!” you gushed, providing your email address before hanging up. Your heart was racing and you were excited. Maybe this was the first step you needed to pursue a career in the entertainment business. 

You got Mr. Park’s message with the contracts and liability waivers, signing them quickly and sending them back. Your phone pinged and you checked it anxiously. 

Hello Y/n, this is Yoon Changmin. I hate to spring this on you fairly last-minute, but we are going to be shooting in our own studios. You should be able to access the address on our website, and there’ll be someone at the security gate to escort you to the correct place. Thank you, see you tomorrow. 

Tomorrow?

—---------------------------

You put your life on hold to make it to the set, not really sure what to wear, so you settled on something similar to what you might’ve worn to an audition. You pulled up in Karina’s car, your friend kindly letting you borrow it for the day, approaching the front gate after nearly an hour and a half of driving. 

“Name please?” the man asked, glancing down at his clipboard when you gave it. “Alrighty, that man over there in the gold cart will lead the way. Just follow him and park in one of the guest stalls,”

“Thank you so much,” you smiled, rolling your window back up and heading through the opening gate. It was easy enough to find parking, but you were quite nervous once you got out of the car. 

“Y/n! So nice to finally meet you,” a man spoke, approaching you with a black cap on his head. “I’m Changmin. We’re going to be sending you to the choreographer very quickly before we have the stylists work on you. You’re going to have to pick it up quickly,” he explained, walking with you toward the large building. You entered a small studio where the choreographer was waiting. 

“Hello, please warmup however you can. We’re going to need to go over this quickly,”

You barely stretched before she insisted you started. “Alright, the boys in the group already learned the choreography, but you’ll only be dancing with one of them. We’re going to run a few screen tests once they arrive, seeing who you look best with. As of right now, Mr. Yoon is thinking that Lee Jeno will be best,”

You nodded, staying professional. Lee Jeno? The group must be fairly new, because you didn’t seem to know who they were. 

The choreographer led you through the dance, helping you with the partner work and running the music with you. It was a nice song, but it was slower and more sensual, so you knew you had to match that energy with your moves. It was a good thing you worked in the night club so often, but then again, that must be why you were scouted in the first place.

“Amazing! Wonderful job, Y/n. You’re going to be the star of this video,” she gushed, leading you out the doorway and toward the vanity tables in another room. You froze, though, when you heard someone call your name. You turned around, your jaw dropping to the floor. 

“Jaemin?”

“Uh, do you guys know each other?” one of the four spoke, his dirty blond hair ruffled a bit about his head. You made eye contact with the sheepish Jaemin, telling him with your eyes to say something. 

“Yeah! We met at the party earlier last week. How are you?” he explained, approaching you alone and slinging an arm around your shoulders. You gawked at him in shock as he began walking the two of you the opposite direction, speaking to you when you were out of ear shot. 

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” you gasped, laughing as you gave him a tight hug. He reciprocated, his grasp tight. 

“I should be the one asking you. This is my band’s music video, you know,” 

Realization set in. You couldn’t believe now that you had never asked who the artists actually were. You had no idea Hello Future were full blown artists like this, but then again, based on their social media following, maybe you should’ve figured it out on your own. Jaemin was watching you like he still couldn’t believe you were really standing in front of him. 

“So, uh, I was recruited by one of the SM studio employees when they watched one of my performances back at my home job,” you explained, giving him the entire story about how Mr. Park had approached you and set everything up. He looked impressed, about to say something, when he was interrupted. 

“Where are Jaemin and Y/n? We need to get them ready and get the ball rolling!” Mr. Yoon called out, Jaemin giving you a wink before the two of you jogged into the dressing room. 

The outfit the stylist picked out for you was simple—an all red ensemble and excessively chunky boots. You emerged from behind the curtains and saw the boys each had their own outfits, black leather and denim gracing their attractive features. One glance over Jaemin and you had to wipe the drool from your chin. 

“Alright, we’re going to begin filming everyone! Wait—boys! Eyes and ears here, please,” Mr. Yoon demanded, everyone turning to look at the four as they snapped their heads around from you to him. You snickered to yourself, watching them trying to brush it off. “For our staff, this song is called It Felt Like the World. It’ll be pretty steamy, I admit, but it’s all for the cameras right?”

You could feel Jaemin’s stare without even glancing at him. 

“We’re going to begin with the instrumental shots, so hopefully Y/n can go over the choreography a bit more. Don’t worry hun, you’ll do amazing,” Mr. Yoon encouraged, giving you a smile before settling back into his authoritative persona. Your choreographer approached kindly as the boys left for the huge red backdrop that already had an impressive stage and their instrumental set up. As you went over your choreography you heard several directions come from where they were filming, the drummer marking the 4-count before they began playing the song in real time. You paused for a moment and simply watched them, amazed by their passion. You watched them play the entire song, grinning at the fact that Jaemin took the lead vocal on the last four lines. When they hit the last beat and strummed the last note, Jaemin met your piercing gaze and smiled, snapping you back into reality as you bashfully turned away. 

“That was great guys! We might come back to this and film a couple more times but our cameramen need to reconstruct the blocking before we do. For now let’s decide on the male lead. Uh, any volunteers?” 

All the boys’ hands shot up immediately. 

“Okay then, uh, Yerin, could you consult with me?” he called to your choreographer, the two of them muttering to each other before he clapped his hands together and readdressed you all. “Well, Yerin thinks Jeno is best fit, so we’re going to feel it out and see what happens,” he concluded, and you looked over to see the drummer smile shyly. Ah, so this was Jeno. You were quite disappointed that it wasn’t Jaemin, but letting it affect your performance would simply be unprofessional. 

“We’re going to take five then film in set C,” 

You approached Jaemin as his band mates dispersed, watching him pout slightly. 

“If I’m the one who actually knows you, shouldn’t it be me?” he scoffed softly, making sure no one else overheard. You sighed with a smile on your face. 

“If it means anything, I was really hoping it would be you,” you replied, satisfied with the glow in his eyes. Jaemin was utterly tempted to touch you, maybe even kiss you, but this was no place for that. 

“It’s just that the lyrics are pretty—how do I say this—suggestive? I have a feeling you’re going to be putting on quite the show with Jeno,” he spat, jealousy rolling off of him in waves. Cute. 

“Jeno, Y/n, come here for a sec. We have to talk the beginning scene,” 

“That’s my cue,” you sighed, blowing him a little kiss as you walked over to Yerin and Mr. Yoon near set C. It was a fake bedroom, decorated to seem like one of the four actually lived in it. There were posters, the floor littered with some shoes and vinyls, an amp in the corner and a guitar hanging on the wall. 

“Okay, you guys are really going to have to channel your acting skills here. You two are supposed to be in love, but connected here in a bit of a sexual way. You’re both each other’s world. Convince us,” Mr. Yoon explained, your palms sweating. “Maybe do a bit of improvisation for us before we start filming. Give us something sexy, Jeno maybe you could dip into her neck for a close up shot,” 

You and Jeno turned to each other, Yerin and the director stepping out of the set and watching the two of you as you slowly approached the boy. He was extremely attractive, sure, but there was only one boy in your mind, and he was watching from the side. 

Jeno’s hands were a bit awkward as he grabbed your hips, pulling you closer as he avoided eye contact with you. 

“Look at her, Jeno! She’s your lover, not some stranger,” 

That was funny considering you actually were a stranger. Jeno looked into your eyes and took a calming breath, leaning forward and brushing his lips against your neck. 

“Okay, that’s better. Y/n, could you close your eyes?” 

You obeyed, finding that it was much easier to imagine it was Jaemin against you when you did so. Suddenly your fantasy was interrupted when Mr. Yoon’s voice made the both of you jump. 

“You have to move, Jeno. This isn’t a picture, this is a video!” Mr. Yoon sighed exasperatedly, rubbing his eyebrows in frustration. “Here, let me see. Jaemin, you’re standing here, why don’t we try that?” 

Your heart leaped with joy at his words. It was like the stars aligned perfectly for you. But then Jeno pulled away and gave you a subtle wink, and you realized it wasn’t luck that paired you and Jaemin together—they had planned all of this. You were sure if Mr. Yoon had vouched for any of the other three, they would have performed just as badly. Sneaky bastards, but praise them. 

Jaemin walked onto the set immediately, grabbing you by the waist as he looked down at you. 

“Yes! That’s it! Lean into him more Y/n, there you go. Yes, Yes!” Mr. Yoon clapped his hands together excitedly, Yerin giving the two of you a pointed smirk as she seemed to have caught on herself. “This is exactly what I imagined. Lights, get over here and shine some ‘sunlight’ through the window!”  

Mr. Yoon was so thrilled he was jumping all over the place, barking orders at his staff as they scrambled to create the perfect setting. Jaemin turned back to you and leaned in to whisper in your ear. 

“We won’t have to act at all, baby. This’ll be a breeze,” You couldn’t argue with that, pulling away as a few of the stylists rushed over to give the two of you a few touch ups before the cameras would begin rolling. 

“Okay, we’re going to start off with the pan on Jaemin’s face. Get a little closer, a little more, perfect! Okay, and… Action!” 

Jaemin approached you slowly, a dark look in his eyes as he gripped you by the waist and let you wrap your arms around his neck. He leaned in close and you felt his breath fan your skin. You shuddered in a way only noticeable to him, Jaemin’s smirk crawling over your neck as he moved to kiss it slowly. 

The rest of the shoot was, as he put it, a breeze.

———————————————

jaemin<3: hey gorgeous

jaemin<3: SM sent us the final draft of the mv, and they said i could send it to you 

jaemin<3: it came out great, all thanks to you

jaemin<3: video attachment

Jaemin had asked for your number at the end of the shooting day, insisting that he was now convinced that the universe had given him enough signs. You two had been texting and calling each other ever since. You clicked on the video link and turned up your volume, the music flooding your empty dorm. 

[a/n, please get your music apps out and play “It Felt Like the World” by DYSN] 

Adventure

The first shot was of you, a close up of your winding body as you danced in the center of a cluster of extras. The film was edited in slow motion, the colorful lights basking your face in an artificial glow as your intentionally smudged makeup caught light in the frame. 

Down your body, adventure

The scene cuts abruptly to you and Jaemin in “his bedroom”. He was descending his lips down your clothed body, the camera following his movements as his head eclipsed the light coming in from the window. 

Before the next line Jaemin could be seen in the club himself, pushing through the sea of bodies with his eyes trained on the camera—trained on you. 

She said, “Don’t stop unless I tell you, tell you,” 

You had been instructed to lip sync to the lyrics in real time, your glossy lips mouthing the words as you were dancing with Jaemin. The two of you put on the choreography well, moving as one against each other. It was steamy, his hands trailing down your body as you slinked around him like a snake. 

But you ain’t said a word

Not a word

Things took a turn, as you expected, the scene of you pushing Jaemin backwards in his room as he stumbled, stunned. You two appeared to be arguing about something—well, more like you were yelling at him and he couldn’t get any words out. It was a depiction of a guy that couldn’t fight for his relationship. 

You were walking toward the door furiously when he grabbed onto your arm desperately. He turned you around and pulled you close, his lips trailing down your neck feigning apology as the camera followed. Your face contorted with conflicting thoughts. 

Then she whispered, “kiss me”

Your eyes were borderline teary, Jaemin pulling back to look into them. 

“Darling, kiss me, take me”

Jaemin did. He kissed you and the passion was evident through the screen. Your heart fluttered as you watched, giving you a third party view as Jaemin’s lips melded with yours. It came across as distressed, like he was trying to tell you everything he couldn’t bring himself to say. 

When we were 17, it felt like the world

You two were making amends, a cultivation of smiles and laughs shared between you two. He twirled you around, you two laid in his bed as he played with your hair, you smiled at him as he caressed his nose with yours. 

It felt like the world

The long instrumental took up the last half of the song, the video panning between the band and you two driving in a car together with the sunset apparent through the windows. He glanced over at you with one hand on the wheel. You caught him staring and smiled. Everything was perfect about the long, slowed clip, the two of you staring lovingly as the perspective shot from the backseat forward. He reached over to grab your hand, kissing your knuckles, and then the screen went black. 

Hello Future: The Band

It Felt Like the World 

You watched it twice more, fully embracing the beauty of the video. Any opportunity you had to book a gig was exciting, but this one was special, you knew, because you cherished the boy alongside you. Jaemin had guided you through the tough acting scenes, letting you feed off of his energy, taking the initiative but still letting you shine on your own. 

you: wow jaem, it’s beautiful 

you: the song is so wonderful, and Mr. Yoon really captured it well

The three little dots appeared immediately. Jaemin had been waiting (im)patiently for your reaction. 

jaemin<3: you were the one who made it special, y/n

jaemin<3: it’ll be posted in two hours

jaemin<3: call me later, yeah? i have to go for now, i’m in a press meeting :(

you: of course. have fun!

[read: 4:02 pm]

You tossed your phone beside you on your bed, giggling like a teenage girl. 

~

haechanfever127: god this music video is so beautiful. i’m so proud of the boys for making this amazing song!

jenojam: wow~ to be this girl! 

renjuniiee: i’m a new fan after listening to this song. it’s all over the radio, and it’s almost getting overplayed (not that it ever could lol) 

You were scrolling through the comments under the video, a week after its release. You were incredibly giddy about the whole thing. You convinced yourself that maybe this was finally your shot, and you were unbelievably happy for the boys. The song was topping charts worldwide. 

luvforjaem: i wonder if this song was written about jaemin’s girlfriend. weird that she wasn’t the one in the video, though. 

You froze, staying on that comment for a long while as you reread the words in hopes to process them. In a flash you opened your web browser and searched up “na jaemin girlfriend” (admittedly not one of your proudest moments) and was shocked by the amount of headlines that popped up. You clicked on the first one. 

Breakout Band HELLO FUTURE’s Na Jaemin Spotted With Labelmate Kira Outside of Company Building

#ThingsAreGettingSteamy! #GlobalPlayboy

There was a large image attached at the very top of the article, and your heart dropped. He was wearing a black cap that covered his eyes, but the girl in the photo was unmistakably pressed against Jaemin’s body, smiling up at him with his face out of view. 

You didn’t want to, but you proceeded to read the report. 

By now we’ve all heard about this new global boy band. With faces that make the girls swoon, it’s no surprise that they might be in relationships! Na Jaemin, the star of their hit music video It Felt Like the World was photographed getting a bit close with fellow labelmate and established pop singer Kira outside of their company building. Reporters say they were getting touchy before Jaemin sent Kira off in a taxi. Whew, girls, what boyfriend material! They make a beautiful couple, don’t you think? 

Buzz is already forming around the new pair, fans either gushing over their perfect image or sad that they couldn’t snatch him up first. What do you think? Will their relationship last? Vote below! 

There was a little poll at the bottom with a YES or NO option. Always petty, you furiously tapped the NO button until the graph hauntingly revealed the overwhelming amounts of YES’s. You threw your phone across the room and screamed into your pillow. 

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz…

Ding! Ding! 

You lifted your head and looked over at your phone sitting face down on your rug, shooting daggers into it. Reluctantly, you got off your bed and picked it up. 

[1] Missed call from jaemin<3

[2] Message from jaemin<3

You scowled, tapping his notification to see what he had to say. 

jaemin<3: hey, can you call me back? 

jaemin<3: please

You debated for a long while, even though you knew he could see that you read his message. When he started typing again, you pressed the call button. 

“Y/n?”

“What.”

He was silent for a moment. 

“I’m guessing you saw the article,” 

“I did,” 

Jaemin sighed, his eyes squeezing shut as he thought of what to say. Did he tell you his truth, or his company’s truth? He didn’t know. 

“Are you upset with me?” he asked, hoping that if you were, it would be worth it to tell you straight up. Maybe, he thought, he could find a reason.

You were silent for a while—for too long. You were trying to find the words to say. I mean, what could you really tell him at this point? It’s not like you two were together. Plus, now he’s dating a beautiful, talented, famous celebrity. So that smaller part of you, the one that wanted to scream at him for being with another girl when all you wanted was him, was suppressed. 

“Why would I be upset? I’m sure the video’s racking up more views as we speak, Jaem,”

The affectionate name broke his heart. “I just thought—”

“You don’t have to think about anything. This is great for the band and for me. I can get more job opportunities if the video blows up, right?” you chuckled, but the conversation went dead for a moment as you both sat with bated breaths. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I hope to see you on the front page of a magazine sometime soon,” Jaemin replied. He tried to keep the defeat out of his voice when you sounded so chipper. “You’ll be miss bigtime performer and I’ll have to beg you to be in another music video,” 

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you sighed. 

“Yeah, me too,”

When you gave your formal goodbyes and the phone call ended, you both knew there were things that had been left unsaid and feelings still lingering. Neither of you could bring yourselves to open up, and for a long while after, there were no messages and calls exchanged. 

~

“You mean to tell me that you haven’t spoken to him once since then?” Yangyang asked incredulously, turning from his computer to actually look at you and digest the situation. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, picking at your nails distractedly. “But I made a promise to myself never to read any articles on him for the rest of my life,”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Yangyang agreed with a nod, the sound of his video game menu filling the silence as he paused. “Do you still think about him?”

He was treading lightly with his words, but he didn’t need to. 

“Sometimes,” you replied, finally looking up from your hands and giving a small, content smile. “I mean, I barely knew the guy, and what I got from the experience was far beyond just Jaemin. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what it was like being on set, being around those people and how much I loved it,”

“Good for you,” he smiled. “Like, for real. I’m happy you feel that way. I don’t know if I’ll ever be as mature as you,”

“You won’t”

“Way to ruin the moment. This is what I get for being nice to you,”

~

“I hope they’re happy,” Jaemin muttered, tossing his bag down roughly as he stormed into the band’s apartment. Renjun was the only one there, Haechan and Jeno having gone off somewhere together, and the boy watched Jaemin with pity. “I hope everyone who had a part in this gets their bank account drained,”

“I’m really sorry, man. I know it’s hard right now, but maybe it’ll all work out in the end,” Renjun consoled, scooting over on the couch so Jaemin could collapse beside him. “But, Y/n really was cool,” he admitted. 

Jaemin huffed in frustration, his hands running rampant over his face and through his hair. His jaw was clenched as he stared down at his feet with his head between his hands. 

“Do you think it’ll be worth it?” Jaemin murmured. Renjun sighed as he leaned back, staring up at the blank ceiling. 

“I sure hope so, Jaemin,” he said. “I really do,” 

———————————————

3 years later

———————————————

“Well, look who it is!” someone called, and you turned toward the voice with a beaming smile. You hadn’t known she would be here. 

“It’s been so long!” you chirped, reaching out and hugging Yerin. She chuckled before pulling away. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” she laughed, nodding toward your red strands. “I like it. It really screams: Dior’s New It-Girl,” 

“Oh, stop it,” you blushed. Yerin looked like she was going to say more, but another woman approached and coaxed her away. She gave you a warm, apologetic smile before you were left alone once again. You figured it would be best to find your seat now as the venue had become much too crowded, and you knew you would have to entertain a few conversations along the way. 

A couple years back, you never knew you would be sitting in the front row of an exclusive Christian Dior fashion show, but here you were. Since the music video had blown up, kickstarting your career, you’d graduated college while simultaneously juggling all the job opportunities you’d gotten. They’d started off simple, with things like small product advertisements to showcase to your growing social media following. Then you’d gotten a call from a technology company asking if you could be in their headphones commercial, then booked a gig with a video game company to be the model for one of their characters, and then, one of your favorites—being asked to fly out of the country to be part of the main cast on a travel-based reality show that just got renewed for a third season. 

Eventually you found yourself here, a special guest at your fashion ambassador’s Summer Collection show, having just walked down the very same runway a few months before for their Spring Lookbook. 

And you were never a fan of the press, but once in a while you’d come across an article or a magazine with your face on it, and you could never help reading the headlines. 

Y/n: The Next Big Thing and Why You Should Be Paying Attention to Her.

New Hit Reality Show ‘Border Crossing’ Features a Funny, Fresh Face. 

And most recently, Christian Dior’s New It-Girl. 

You might know her because she’s all everyone’s been talking about, but we promise she didn’t appear out of thin air. We recently interviewed Y/n asking her about what her journey to stardom has been like. “Thrilling”, she said. “I still wake up in the morning and wonder if any of this is real,”

Well, it sure is! It seems like she’s the only one that can’t believe her own success. After a private call with a Dior team member, our reporter found that Y/n is well known in the entertainment world as being extremely professional, easy to work with, and quite charming among the staff. Just this past May, she could be seen studying for her university classes during a photoshoot! Your turn to take notes, everyone. This is how to be a multi-million dollar model, actress, and the nation’s darling. 

Your on-brand dress was elegant but a bit extravagant, and you found it hard to move around as you tried your best to weed gracefully through the crowd. Your reserved seat was near the center of the right wing of chairs, on the complete opposite side of where you stood now. You were passing the entrance when a commotion came from outside. 

High pitched screams could be heard and many turned their heads to watch the scene unfold, a series of cameras flashing trying to capture whoever it was approaching the building. There were shouts from the photographers but too many to make out what they were saying, and in a rush to get by, you nearly stumbled whilst crossing the bit of red carpeting that reached past the doors. 

Someone grabbed your hand to steady you, and you looked up to see a familiar face. 

“Woah there, we can’t have the face of the brand falling, can we?” 

“Thank you, Hyunjin,” 

Hwang Hyunjin was your equal, the male ambassador of the brand to match yourself in the countless campaigns that featured your high profile faces. You’d done several shoots with him before, and he was always very courteous, and had intimidated you at first with how experienced he was. He had always been a model, but with his face and talent he was able to make an enormous name for himself on social media and became one of the most sought after male models in the industry. Dior was simply able to snatch him up before anyone else could. 

You gave him a grateful smile, letting his hand continue to hold yours as you subtly regained your balance. But, in a matter of seconds, the cloak of whispers from the guests around you brought you back to where you were. And when you took just one second to reestablish your surroundings, you realized someone was standing just a short length away, stopped on the red path having been blocked by you and Hyunjin. 

The first thing you saw was the snake tattoo running down his neck. 

Neither you or Jaemin made any reaction as you made eye contact. His black hair was kept a tad longer and he wore a simple black suit that somehow made him look intimidating, and it was the serious impression you got from him that truly made him feel like a stranger. You didn’t realize until Hyunjin led you away that you had subconsciously gripped the poor man's hand firmly. 

“They sat us together, right? Let me help you,” 

You vaguely heard Hyunjin speaking to you, your mind stuck in the gutter. You hadn’t seen Jaemin in years, much less within that close of a proximity. You were already lost back into the crowd and you knew looking back would be worthless, but the muscles in your neck were tingling with how badly you wanted to. 

How has he been? How were the others? A million questions were racing through your mind but only one in particular resonated within you. 

Does he still think about you? (Like you’ve thought about him?)

You don’t pine over him anymore, and you’re unphased when another one of the band’s hits plays on the radio, but you’ve become a different person in many ways. At random moments, on random days, you wonder if he ever follows your trail to stardom. You wonder if he sees your face on the city’s billboards, if he’s watched your show. You question if he’s proud of where you’ve gotten; if mega-popstar Na Jaemin ever reads an article and feels happy for you.

You have no time to continue fretting about the situation once Hyunjin finds your seats, and you’re forced to push the thoughts out of your head and focus on the task at hand. For the entire night there will always be a pair of eyes on you, and you must act accordingly. You're mentally switching yourself back to work-mode as the lights dim and the runway comes alive. 

There’s a series of formal speeches and grateful welcomings from the designer, and soon the first model makes their way from backstage wearing the collection’s signature diamond motif print. A round of applause sounds as the fashion show is now underway. 

A figure walks from across the strip of marble and it catches your attention, your resolve wavering as Jaemin takes the seat directly across from you. You’re both facing each other this way, and you don’t spare him another glance as you return your sights back on the next model. Karina struts down the aisle wearing a large, lavish hat, and it’s so big that it masks her intentional wink as she passes your seat. 

Sixteen models later, and you feel the grim, horribly specific, unignorable stare. With just a fleeting glance forward, you’re able to confirm that Jaemin is not in fact watching the show. He’s too busy watching you. 

“Hey,” Hyunjin whispered, leaning over to speak into your ear. “Mr. Beccari is going to be at the after party. We should probably show our faces, even just for a little while,” 

You simply nodded, knowing the after parties played a key role in making connections. Anyone worth your time would be there, and even if it was exhausting, you would make an appearance. 

You kept yourself fully focused on the models for the rest of the show, sparing not even a flicker of the eyes toward Jaemin for the rest of the night. You weren’t sure why you were so hostile towards him even after all these years, but making a name for yourself meant learning when not to be walked over. 

The weather was nice, the outdoor venue for the post-runway show cast in a golden glow from the lights strung above the heads of the high class group mingling over champagne and appetizers. You and Hyunjin walked in together as instructed by the PR manager, letting the photographers capture the two of you gliding along arm in arm. Your red hair was left down tonight, blowing rampant but gorgeously with the light winds. 

A mass of people crowded around the two of you upon your arrival, talking courteously about nothing important at all. You pasted a smile on your face and tried your best to keep your mind blank. 

“Is that from the Fall 2005 collection? One of my favorites, dear,” your creative director noted, eyeing your dress with approval. She was never one to give many compliments, so you took this one with pride. 

“I prefer what you wore in the spring,” 

You turned to the newcomer, who was standing just over your shoulder, Jaemin’s warm hand brushing politely over your forearm before retracting just as quickly. He was smiling over at the director, but he stood impossibly close to you without any hint of second thought. 

The director clapped her hands together in giddy satisfaction. “Oh, how wonderful! Our celebrity ambassadors standing together,” Your eyes widened when you processed her words, turning to Jaemin in disbelief. He’s a Dior ambassador now?

“I’m glad to be working with a friend,” Jaemin chuckled, referring to you without sparing you a glance. He led the conversation with the director for a while before she departed to take a phone call, leaving you two alone. Jaemin circled your figure until he stood in front of you, a smile on his lips that was almost insulting. 

“Friend, huh?” you joked lightly, though the undertone in your statement didn’t go unnoticed. There were some murmurs sounding around the two of you, making you aware that this wasn’t just a private conversation. The two ambassadors were talking; the two of you were talking. That deserved attention. 

“This is my second time seeing you tonight, and I still have yet to receive a greeting,” 

“I was occupied with other matters,” you replied, your blood nearly boiling at his comment, but you couldn’t muster anything but shock at the moment. He looks good, you thought. Older. With the way you were studying him, Jaemin looked away for a second, finally a break in his indifference. You watched him swallow harshly, eating away words you’d never get to hear. 

Fuck, Jaemin cursed to himself. One little look from you and he was looking for an escape. 

“How is the band doing?” you asked. It was all just meaningless catching up, but maybe this was your sneaky way of asking how he was. 

“Not as good as you,” he replied politely. “You’ve been everywhere,” 

“I guess so,” you hummed, feeling the conversation beginning to die. Your torn heart wanted him to walk away and stay all at the same time. You wanted him to let you grab another glass of champagne but you wanted him to take you home. What was he thinking? What was going on inside of the head of a boy you never really knew, and why did it still feel like you’ve known him your entire life? 

“Are you still dancing?” he asked. You were glad that he asked, but now you were convinced he didn’t keep up to date on much of your activities. You had been hired as a guest judge on a popular dance competition show just a few months back. 

That was the only episode Jaemin had ever watched, but the question was just to lead into what he would say next. 

“Yeah, occasionally,” you answered. Your mood had noticeably soured, but Jaemin perked up with a glimmer of hope. 

“We’re recording a new album,” he explained casually, but his heart was pounding. “I think we’ll be taking the tour out of the country,”

“That’s amazing,” you commented. Your voice lacked the enthusiasm he had hoped for. Jaemin was starting to doubt himself, and once he started, he could never stop. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” He cleared his throat in discomfort, looking anywhere but at you. You took it as a sign to exit the conversation. 

“I’ll see you around then,” you offered, catching yourself when you overthought how you might have come across. “At these Dior events, I mean,” Jaemin only nodded and you gave him a small smile as you turned, but he spoke up in a flurry of courage before you could walk away. 

“We’re looking for an opening act for the tour,” he blurted, his fist clenching at his side in embarrassment for what he’d said. You paused with your head down for a moment, hearing the offer he had subtly given, turning back to him with a fleeting grin. 

“Well, I hope you find one,” 

You excused yourself first. 

———————————————

You never thought you would stoop this low. You’d never wanted to find yourself in this position, sitting on your bed, staring down at your phone like an immature kid. Your finger was hovering over the follow button, Jaemin’s profile picture staring at you as if he was judging you, too. 

You bit your lip, unnecessary stress filling you, and you went over the pros and cons. 

Pros: He could follow you back. 

Cons: He could not follow you back. 

Okay, maybe this was immensely stupid. You grit your teeth, your eyes squinting as you winced, your finger tapping the screen as the blue bar turned white. The world seemed to stop for a moment, until you shut your phone off and pounced to the other side of the bed like it had burned you. You couldn’t bear to look over at the device, groaning with regret. 

He has millions of followers. He’s never going to see yours. And even if he did, he might not even decide to follow you back! He only follows twenty two people. The odds did not seem to be in your favor. 

Ding!

You reached your phone with alarming speed, the notification flooding your senses. 

na.jaemin0813 followed you. 

You screamed into your pillow. In private, of course. You hoped this entire experience would be forgotten by you so no one on the planet would know it had ever happened. 

Somehow, just seconds after he followed you, you received an influx of followers who all seemed to come from his profile. You received likes and comments, too. 

bobajaem08: new girlfriend?? O.o

          → hellofuture444: isn’t she the one from the IFLTW mv? 

          → heychan_: does that mean they still keep in touch?

          → fashion1sta: don’t you know? they’re both Dior ambassadors now 

Ding!

DIOR brand ambassadors!

Link to article

Hello Future’s Na Jaemin Has Recently Become a Part of the Dior Family, Alongside Old Friend Y/N. 

Can you think of a timeline better than this? We sure can’t. Na Jaemin, popular bassist from the global band Hello Future has recently been announced as a brand ambassador for Dior, alongside company favorite, Y/n. 

Remember the hit It Felt Like the World? Well, that was when the pair first met! According to inside sources from the music video’s production team, sparks were flying on the set all those years ago! Does this call for a rekindling between the now global mega-stars? Two single, attractive individuals… subscribe to our newsletter to get the latest news on celebrity love life! You might just receive breaking news on developments between the two.

Do you think there’s a chance for romance between these hot celebs? Vote down below! 

“Old friend”? What a load of shit. You hadn’t spoken to the guy for three years until that night, and there were already romance rumors flying about. You knew this was a part of being in the spotlight, but it still felt strange as you stared at the photo. (You two did look good together, though.)

You hadn’t kept up with Jaemin’s love life since your falling out, so this was really the first time it was confirmed to you that he was single. Not that it meant anything to you. Right? Right. 

A few hours later you’d gotten a call from your agent, something about how you were blowing up since the rumors started coming about. 

“This might be good for us,” she urged, despite knowing what had happened between the two of you. You and Sooyoung were very close, and she’d been taking care of you for years. “You should repost his story, spark some more conversation,” 

“What story?” you asked, pulling the phone away from your ear and clicking around to find his profile. You’d gotten so many notifications in the last couple of hours that you must have skipped over this one. It was a photo of a Dior package he must have received as a gift from the company with some words down at the bottom. 

So excited to be a part of such an amazing brand. Thank you @Dior and @Y/n for welcoming me into the family. <3

You were tagged in this story. Repost? 

“You can choose to do whatever you want, but it would be best if you let it be known to the public that you two are friends,” Sooyoung explained. You sighed in contemplation. 

~

“Okay, what about this? ‘Falling in and out of love and falling in again’... Does that even make any sense?” 

Haechan and Renjun were going over some melodies and lyrics—Jeno taking a nap in the corner—while Jaemin was scrolling mindlessly on his phone. 

“Hey, lover boy, we need to finish the first verse. And seeing as you have some new inspiration—ow!” Jaemin had thrown a chip right for Haechan’s head, the boy shooting him a deadly look but popping it into his mouth just to spite him. 

Jaemin’s phone buzzed but he didn’t glance at it yet, staring off into space as he went over the melody. He knew what he wanted to say through this song, and apparently it would be one he would receive many lines for. This was going to be, simply put, Jaemin’s song on the album. He got up and walked over to the two, grabbing the notebook and scrawling a couple lines. 

‘Til that night last summer, when you reappeared

Forgot how bad I wanted this.

Jaemin went back to his seat as Renjun read the lyrics out loud. They seemed more than satisfied. 

“Perfection,” Jeno called from the ground, everyone ignoring his sudden outburst. When had he even woken up? Jaemin went onto his feed and clicked on what had notified him earlier. 

@y/n reposted your story. 

So excited to be working with you again. 

<3. 

Jaemin smiled. “Hey, guys, I might have a couple more lines for you,” 

———————————————

“Y/n! Y/n! How does it feel to be at the BT Music Awards?”

“Is this your first time presenting an award?”

“Y/n! Hello Future is in your category! Do you think they will win?” 

The cameras were blinding as you were being ushered into the back of the building, several guards escorting you toward the set. The award show was already underway, and you were notified to make your way backstage so you could prepare for the category you would be presenting. 

BT Music Awards was one of, if not the most anticipated show in the award season of music. Everyone who was anyone attended the event, and you had surprisingly and excitingly been invited as one of the MC’s for one of the biggest awards of the night. A famous soloist was performing while you exited, giving you enough time to enter through the back. 

“Here are your cue cards, oh, and please take the envelope. Do not open it until you are announcing the winner, and make sure to pause before reading it to create anticipation. The trophy will be on the pedestal when you get there, so just hand it to the winner when they come up onto the stage,” 

There were hundreds of people bustling around behind the stage, talking into ear pieces and rushing to get things to run smoothly. A man handed you your script and led you through the chaos until you reached a small flight of stairs where you could reach up and nearly touch the screen serving as a backdrop on the stage. The music was blaringly loud but the song being performed was quite catchy, yet all of it was tuned out as you wiped your sweaty palms on your dress. 

“Don’t be nervous,” the man assured you as he began to walk away, likely tasked with another job that he didn’t have the time to wait there with you. “You’ll do great,”

All you could give him was a sheepish smile as the song ended and the performer began to head off stage, waving to the audience as the commercial break started. 

“Kira is off-stage, I repeat, Kira is off-stage,” 

“Wow,” the girl panted, fanning her face as crew members swarmed her, taking the microphone and such. You stood awkwardly on the side, trying to avoid eye contact. To no avail. She squealed and you glanced toward her, suddenly alarmed as she was walking toward you. 

“Hello! Are you presenting the final award? That is so exciting!” she was much prettier up close, you thought, and she bowed to you as Kira introduced herself. “I have to admit, I’ve always wanted to meet you. I just think you’re so talented, and gorgeous, too,”

“Uh, thank you! That was an amazing performance,” you replied, giving her a small smile. Why did she have to be so nice? 

“Well, I messed up a couple notes, so I’m sure there’ll be some people ridiculing me online. What can you do, right? Oh! The break is over. Good luck!” 

And with that, she disappeared down the hallway, and you were alone once again. A woman gestured for you to walk out, and you took a deep breath knowing you had no other choice. 

You put on a smile and waved out into the black void as you strutted along the enormous stage, and you could barely see anyone but the celebrity section from your spot in the center. Your hands were shaking slightly as you handled the cards, moving the microphone downwards so you could reach it properly. You read your script word for word. 

“What a long night it has been, and the academy would like to thank everyone for being here with us tonight. Now, I know everyone is waiting for the big prize to be awarded, so let’s see the nominees for Artist of the Year,” 

You were instructed to pause, and the production team would play the prerecorded video of all the artists in the category. You switched to the envelope, holding it there and waiting for the final moment. 

“Nominees for the Artist of the Year award. TY…” Every time a new artist was announced, the crowd would cheer. The list was full of star-studded musicians, but you waited with anticipation for your secret, personal favorite. “...Hello Future,” 

The video shut off and the cameras went back to you, and you slowly opened the envelope as the entire arena seemed to fall silent. The name was tucked into the card and you had to slide it out to read it, and your heart skipped a beat as you smiled. 

“And the winner of the Artist of the Year award is,” you paused, looking directly into the camera as you felt a rush of pride flow through you. “Hello Future!” 

Immediately the crowd fell into an uproar of cheers and applause as music was played and confetti began to fall from above. You almost forgot to grab the trophy with all the mayhem, and the cameras panned to the four boys from their seats near the front of the stage. You watched as they moved into a group hug with excited and shocked expressions, celebrating with one another as they finally made their way up to you. 

And of course, the other three stepped behind as Jaemin came to you first, taking the trophy from you with a beaming smile. He faced away from the audience as he did, winking at you as his hands lingered on yours for only a second. You forced yourself not to react on live television, walking to the side as they began their acceptance speech. 

They thanked many people from their company and their fans, talked about their hardships and how they’ve managed to make it this far. They took turns speaking and Haechan looked like he might have been crying. 

“And, we’d like to thank our dear friend, Y/n, for presenting this award to us. She’s one of the few people who have been with us since the beginning. With that, we’d like to thank everyone who had never doubted us, and we’ll continue to work hard for all of you. Thank you again,” Jeno finished, and the music returned as you motioned for them to follow you off the stage. Renjun sped up to walk beside you as you gave him a small side hug, congratulating him with a warm grin. The back of the stage was much less busy now that the show had finished, and the man from before had returned. 

“See? I told you it would work out,” he said, taking the cards from you. You glanced over his name tag with fleeting interest. Announcement Director, Kim Doyoung. 

“All thanks to you guys behind the scenes,” you replied with a smile, catching your breath after that intense, amazing moment. You turned to the rest of the boys and gave them your congratulations, but Doyoung tapped you lightly on the arm. He was listening to someone on his earpiece, beckoning for you to follow him down the hall. 

“You’ll be waiting in this room while the staff prepares the press walk. Sorry, we were going to escort you back to your seat, but there are no guards available at the moment,” 

“I can escort you,” someone called, Jaemin casually trailing behind the two of you. Doyoung gave him a polite smile as you inched away. 

“Of course, but unfortunately you qualify as ‘guarded’, not ‘guard’. If you’d like, you and your bandmates are welcome to wait in a room as well,” Doyoung opened the door to your room, shutting it behind you. You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, but you walked over to the small vanity to gather yourself. The dark rumble of the audience was so loud you could hear it from backstage, light pop beats bleeding through the cracks under the door. The atmosphere was so silently loud that you hadn’t heard anyone enter. 

“What a night,” 

You whipped around, surprised yet unsurprised to see Jaemin standing in your doorway, letting the door swing shut on its own. He had taken off his suit jacket and abandoned it in another room, his jarring silver undershirt unbuttoned several times down. You didn’t know how to reply to his comment, so he continued. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” he offered. He was opening himself up to you just by approaching you, you thought. You wouldn’t doubt that it took some courage to continue to stand before you like this, time and time again. 

“Thank you, Jaemin,” you replied. Your manicured nails were soothingly sharp as you scratched at your palm nervously. His gaze was lethal as he scanned every inch of you. 

“Could I ask you a question?” he blurted, but even in his moment of panic, he was calm. The air in the room suddenly filled with tension and anticipation. “But I have to warn you, it’s pretty introspective, so I guess you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” 

You didn’t know where any of this was going, and his foreshadowing was concerning. You’d never seen Jaemin like this, and that made you vulnerable to his unpredictability. But, you would never be able to help yourself, so you nodded. 

“Do you think,” he paused, hesitating. “Do you think that people can come back from anything?” 

You studied him. “What do you mean by that?” He seemed reluctant to explain himself, as if he worded the question vaguely on purpose. 

“Like, let’s say someone did something fucked up, and they want to redeem themself. Is it too… optimistic to believe that it’s possible?” Jaemin had traveled further away from the door as the conversation played out, close enough for you to reach him if you extended your arm forwards. 

“I never thought that I would be one to say that things are impossible,” you began. You were going to entertain his worries and regrets, if only to reach into his closed off mind. “But I’ve learned that sometimes you have to stop expecting from other people that things will ever change,” 

“Hm,” he hummed, absorbing your answer. He moved just a little closer, his eyes cast down to his shuffling feet. Mentally slapping himself, he forced his eyes up to meet yours. “And, well, what might you expect from me?” 

Your answer came faster than either of you expected. “I don’t know, Jaemin. I just don’t know you anymore, and I don’t think I ever did,” 

Jaemin was silent for a moment, and in a moment of impulse, he turned on his heels and walked away. Your eyes were blurry as you watched his quick strides towards the door, and he swung it open so harshly that you even watched him turn to his left down the hallway. The room was quiet once again, and you slowly made your way to the open entrance so you could close it. For good this time. 

But when the door was only inches from being closed, you were forced backwards as it was pushed open by a pair of frantic hands. You were turned around and pressed against the cool metal, your back erupting in chills as Jaemin caged you in with his panting body. He stared into your eyes for only a few measly seconds before crashing his lips into yours. 

He was pushing and prodding against your mouth and your body as he sought to be as close to you as possible. His cold fingers held your face still for him to seek comfort in your reciprocation, and he got what he had wanted. No matter what you said, and no matter what your brain told you to say, you would always kiss him back. 

You were both short on breath but wouldn’t dare to stop, moaning and grunting into each other as your hips couldn’t escape the proximity. His body was pressed flat against yours, and he reached down to grab your hips as you draped your arms around his neck. He seemed to enjoy how you pulled at his hair.  

Using his hold on you, Jaemin led your bodies further into the room and sat himself on a chair, instinctively pulling you on top of him. Your short dress rode up as you straddled his hips, and you shuddered as his hands met the skin of your thighs. Hesitantly, you reached up and unbuttoned his shirt a few times down, running your fingers over his chest. He was breathing heavily now, chasing your lips in desperation. You moved together easily, messily. 

He pulled back slightly, both your eyes still closed, and he whispered against your lips for a moment. “Y/n,”

You snapped out of your trance the moment you heard him call out to you. Suddenly, the reality of the situation crashed down on you, and you hopped off of him in a rush to escape. Jaemin should’ve been, but he wasn’t surprised as he watched you, slumped back against the seat with his legs spread, his chest heaving as his breath fanned the messy strands of hair falling over his face. 

“I—I don’t,” It took a while for you to gather your thoughts, and he seemed to wait impatiently, hanging onto every word. “I don’t want to keep playing this game,” 

And just like that, Jaemin became a stranger once again. He stood up and fixed his shirt, his eyes glazing back over in a flash of recomposure. You knew you ruined something in him, but you had to do it to save yourself. 

“This isn’t a game, Y/n. Don’t you realize that? I’m not playing with you,” 

He walked over to the vanity, and you watched as Jaemin leaned down to see himself in the mirror, brushing a hand through his hair and wiping the red tint staining his lips. 

“But if I wanted to be with you, I would. And I’m not,” he finally replied. Your chest began to deflate. In your flurry of heartbreak, a new feeling emerged. One you’d never felt for the man in front of you before. 

Jaemin turned to you as your heels hit the ground harshly, walking up to him with determination. “You know, Jaemin, it’s okay if you don’t want me,” His face was a mix of masked confusion as you spoke with an eerie sense of calmness. “But you can’t keep reminding me of it. You don’t seem to realize what that can do to a person. To me,” 

At that point, tears were falling down your face, and you knew that was your cue. You didn’t want Jaemin to see you cry for him. He didn’t deserve it. You were angry, furious, and you knew it would only fester into a ball of flames if you didn’t get away from his hell. 

“Get the fuck out,” you whispered, turning away from him. You heard him hesitate, you convinced yourself he hadn’t touched your arm in comfort, and you didn’t look back when his fingers dropped from your skin and the door finally closed shut. 

~

“What are you even talking about, man? You know we can’t do that,”

“And why the fuck not?” Jaemin huffed, his fingers dancing anxiously on the bottle of alcohol sitting in front of him, the glass turned warm from how long he had been draped over the kitchen counter in defeat. 

“They’re our lifeline, you know. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them,” Renjun argued, his head in his hands as he tried to figure out how to mend this situation. “You just need to calm down and get yourself together, alright?”

“Don’t you think I’ve been trying? They’re corrupt, Renjun. We can’t keep letting them do this shit,” 

“Maybe we need to find an alternative, though,” Jeno reasoned, much calmer than the boy beside him. Haechan had been silent since Jaemin’s proposal, and it was worrisome for the other three. Haechan always had something to say.

“Just think about it,” Jaemin pleaded. He had never been so set on anything in his life. “Think about all the shit we’ve had to deal with over the years. We’ve been little chess pieces for them to control,” 

“That’s life, Jaemin. We signed up for this,” Renjun huffed, but his resolve was wavering. There was a point to be made even if Jaemin was being irrational. “And don’t get me wrong, we all know what they’ve put you through. I’m not saying it isn’t fucked up, but what other choice do we have? I just feel sorry that it always seems to be you,” 

The room fell silent, their usually bustling apartment reaching a point of uncomfortable stillness. And then, Haechan finally spoke up. “I’m with Jaem,” 

The other three turned to the boy in surprise, but Haechan’s gaze had a look of unwavering determination as he stared out the window. 

“In the end, it will always come down to the four of us. If we’re as good as I think—as I know we are, we won’t ever need anything more than that. We don’t need anyone else,” 

Okay, so maybe Jeno was easily swayed. Renjun required a bit more convincing, but in the end, he would never be able to deny his friends’ happiness. They were his family. 

“I really wanted to go on tour,” he mumbled quietly, and he regretted it once Haechan attacked him with mock sympathy, petting his head like a child. 

———————————————

Breaking Headline: Band Hello Future Has Just Terminated All Relations with their Long-Time Label with Unannounced Social Media Post: “Our Truth” 

Every artist’s worst fear is being dropped by their label, so what point must they reach to leave on their own volition? Jaws are to the floor as the world finds out that members Renjun, Haechan, Jeno and Jaemin collectively decided to cut all ties with their record label [Star Music]. In a social media post released at midnight, the members revealed some haunting truths about alleged corruption and forced defamation tactics going on within the company, done in hopes to garner popularity. 

In the post, divided between the four, most are talking about member Jaemin’s take on the situation. It’s being rumored that his experience is what sparked the decision. 

“I’ve been made a liar and a playboy” he said, and many fans are speculating that many of his public endeavors were a scheme. A report made by their own private staff members revealed that various news and media sites were being paid by the company to release false statements on various dating and romantic ‘scandals’ about the bassist. We were fooled, dear fans. 

What will this mean for the four boys? Star Music has yet to make a statement on the situation, but there have been no legal actions being taken as of now. The band has avoided any legal obligations to stay within the company, but will they face trouble with their upcoming album? Their company-funded tour has been canceled, but all across the world, fans are speaking up to support their favs for standing up for themselves. Will this be a monumental step for the music industry? Only time will tell. 

Notice: highly anticipated Hello Future album: ‘Sky on Fire’ is still set to release this Saturday. The band has just announced that they will be performing its title track: ‘Sleepless’ for the premiere, live on all streaming platforms. Make sure to tune in!

~

message from: unknown number

you’ve received a link. open?

Recipient,

You have received an invitation to attend the Sky on Fire Album launch on Saturday, at 8:00 p.m. 

We would like to personally thank you, for if you are receiving this, you are an integral part of our journey up to this point. From the four of us, we’d like to share this moment of growth with you all. We hope you can make it. 

With love,

Hello Future

Y/n Y/l/n,

Seat 4, Row A 

~

“This is a big night, people! I am standing just outside the venue for the Hello Future album launch, and it is bustling with all the stars’ closest friends, family, and fellow celebrities! We’ve seen Lee Taeyong, duo-group EXO-SC, actors Jung Jaehyun and Dong Sicheng, and more! Oh, hold on. Someone must be coming! Can you hear me over these cheers?” 

“The large crowd of fans hoping to catch a glimpse of the star-studded guest list are going crazy right now. Who could be the next face we see—? Oh, of course! And here at the venue, we have the band’s long time friend Y/n! Oh, I love her outfit,” 

You must’ve been one of the last people to arrive, the entry strip completely empty as you stepped out of the car. There were barricades on either side to make sure the guests could head inside briskly, the typical flash of the cameras capturing you as you waved around at the crowd. You handed the man in the front your invitation as another woman came to escort you to your seat, and the rest of the audience was just about seated as you strolled past them, smiling to a few familiar faces. You became increasingly more anxious the further down you walked, growing nervous when you realized you were assigned to sit in the first row of chairs. You thanked your hostess and took your seat, the lights dimming as a flurry of camera operators took their places. 

Maybe it was curiosity that brought you here, or maybe it was closure. There was nothing you could refuse when it came to him. 

The stage was pitch black as you heard footsteps enter, and in just a few moments of preparation, the stream was live and the lights came on to reveal the four boys stationed with their instruments. 

[a/n, please get your music apps out and play “A Concert Six Months From Now” by Finneas] 

Tap, tap, tap, tap. 

Haechan began the first verse, and he was smiling in a way that was nostalgic. You realized that seeing them on stage like this brought you back to that party all those years ago. Back when none of you had a name for yourselves yet, and you hadn't wrapped yourself up in the man approaching his microphone. 

“If I could see the future, I never would believe her,” 

Jaemin seemed to be scanning the crowd, but he stopped short as he glanced at the cameras and tried to sell a smile. 

“Falling in and out of love and falling in again,

We were never any good at being friends,” 

You shifted in your seat, feeling the lyrics slice through you. In that small, pathetic part of you, you hoped your face flashed in his mind when they were written, and every single time he’d ever had to sing them like he was now. 

You were the only thing on Jaemin’s mind, actually, but he was just trying to find you. Now that the cameras were on Haechan, he could search through the audience once again. He spent eight long counts darting his eyes around desperately, and then it was time for him to sing again, and then the instruments picked up and the music got louder, and it was all just in time for his eyes to lock onto yours. 

“I’ve been thinking too much and it’s ruined my nights,

But it’s hard when it isn’t, to let yourself slide

And my heart doesn’t slow down when you kill the lights,

I never learned to call it quits.” 

There he was, and there you were. 

The lights were flashing to match the rawness of the music and the chords were harsh as the band played like they were leaving their hearts on the stage. You were getting a sensory and emotional overload, pushing down the tears in your eyes. He was singing to you now that he could reach your eyes. He’d found you. 

Renjun’s voice drowned out as the two of you watched each other, lost in whatever world you were in. Jaemin’s fingers played from muscle memory as his mind got strung up in you. His face reached the microphone one last time, saying everything he’d ever wanted to say in the only way he knew how. 

“I’ll go hungry and crazy and honest for you

I don’t always get angry but I’m promising to

If it’s all that you want then it’s all that I can do. 

Desire never made any sense,” 

He looked away for a moment, too overwhelmed by the tears falling down your face. Jaemin found out for the first time, not too long ago, that you had the power to break him. More than anyone else ever could. 

“I’ll wait for years but I won’t wait alone,

And someday you’ll wait for my face on your phone

And I’ll call and I’ll say I think you should come home,

‘Cause I’m tired of being your ex,” 

The song faded to a close, but the intimate moment between you two did not. Jeno thanked everyone for coming and the fans for tuning in, but Jaemin released his guitar to slump down his body as he stepped away from the mic like he had been released from a spell. The audience stood to their feet, and you were obligated to stand as you clapped mindlessly. 

“Goodnight everyone!”

The crowd immediately erupted into conversation, many friends greeting one another, but you were trying to find your escape. This wasn’t the closure you needed, and you knew you were only going to fall deeper into this hole if you didn’t leave. Rounding the corner, you rushed down the aisle and made a break for the door. 

Outside, it was empty. Everyone had cleared out as the clouds gathered and the raindrops pummeled the pavement below. You cursed, out loud, your clothes drenched in a matter of seconds. You were going to make a break for the awning down the side of the building, nearly slipping in your wet heels. You let out a yelp, but in perfectly tragic timing, Jaemin lurched forward and caught you by the waist. The first thing you identified was his scent, his clothes bathed in rainwater while still managing to smell strongly of him. The tears fell faster and you attempted to rip your body away. 

“Hey, I got you. It’s okay,” 

“It’s not okay,” you sobbed. You hit your fist weakly against his chest, refusing to meet his eyes as you struggled. “It was never okay. You can’t just do this Jaemin. You can’t stand up there and act like—like I mean something to you,” 

“I know,” he whispered, cradling your body in the cold. “I know, and I’m sorry,” 

“You’re sorry?” you cried. You finally pushed yourself away from him, fuming in your sad, pitiful appearance. He was in front of you, soaked to the bone, but he didn’t move an inch. It was time for him to face everything he wanted to turn away from. 

“You can go,” You pressed your finger to his chest. “And stick your apology,” You walked forward as he took steps back. “Up your fucking ass,” 

“You don’t mean that,” he murmured, taking your shaking hand in both of his. He was always so warm. “Let me fix this. Let me fix us,” 

“You were the one who broke it,” you concluded, staggering back, cradling your hand. Walk away, walk away, walk away. 

“It was all a lie,” he called, and you froze in your steps. You didn’t turn, but he continued regardless. 

“I was never with her. I lied, and I did it to save my own fucking career. Even if it meant ending what we had before we could even start,” his voice was shaking, you noticed. “Our manager pulled me into the conference room one day, saying I had no choices left. We were emerging onto the music scene, and it was the perfect time to make a move; to create a headline people would pay attention to. They made me lie to everyone, Y/n. Even myself,”

You turned to look at him, his words racing through your mind. He wouldn’t look away anymore. Jaemin wasn’t afraid. 

“I should have saved us. I’ll never get to know how complete you would have made me, but I think about it all the time. We could’ve been something. You could’ve been everything to me,” 

“You couldn’t save me, but now you can’t let me go. What do you want from me, Jaemin?” 

The rain was beginning to settle, and there was more water dripping from your clothes than the sky, but there was a storm brewing. You could both feel it. 

“I want you to give me a second chance. I want you to learn to love me like I want to learn to love you,” 

You had been so sure that you were done with him, but you didn’t know if you could walk away like this. No, you thought. You had to remember the pain and the confusion even if it hurt, because you couldn’t betray the girl who wanted to be happy again, free of his shackles. 

You laughed like this was all one big joke. Jaemin watched you sadly, but with the sliver of hope he still had left. You knew it would shatter, but you wouldn’t be apologetic anymore. 

“Look at what we became, Jaemin. We’re no good for each other,” 

You barely heard him out, but now you were leaving.

“I’ll wait for you,” he called. “You don’t have to come back to me, but I’ll wait for you, Everyday,” 

You smiled. “I know you will, Jaem,” 

And it was true. You were unforgettable. 

honestly i don't even know if i like this, but i felt like i needed to post something. especially from the playlist series lmao. i hope you guys enjoyed it, and please leave feedback! i love hearing from you guys <3

sincerely,

bebetae

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When you step onto the ice, you think it might really be over.

It’s Nationals, which means that this is your last chance to make it. To prove, to everyone in the figure skating community, that you still have what it takes.

The pressure is on, especially since your childhood friend, Sunghoon, is dubbed the favorite within the men's program. You surpassed all expectations and are coming off an incredibly strong short program, which makes you the last one to leave it all on the ice.

You cross one skate over the other, gliding toward center ice. You lift your arms as you hear your name announced over the speakers. Through your nerves, like you’ve done a hundred times before, you flash a bright smile at the crowd. The only face you somehow manage to catch is Sunghoon’s that’s nearly pressed up against the glass. The rest are a blur, but it gives you some comfort to know there’s at least one person still rooting for you out there.

The first half of your program is hands down your favorite, as it features enough technical difficulty while allowing you to lean into your artistry. You hit your jump combinations flawlessly and execute the elements just the way you want. For the first time in years, your competitive spirit is confident. Unhindered.

Your fire carries you through the first half, until you feel a familiar fatigue pulling at your right hip.

Leading up to this season, almost all skating forums, live commentators, and journalists always positioned your narrative over one central detail: the fact that this is your first season back on the ice after an almost career-ending hip tear.

That was enough reason for you to skip over articles and most social media commentary—reliving your surgery, post-op, and shaky comeback through the eyes of other spectators was too much. You remembered the heartache and depression that manifested when you were injured as an Olympic hopeful, and you’d be damned if you let skeptics drag you back into that mindset. You deserve to be here. You are here to prove that you deserve to move forward.

You grit your teeth, fighting through your spins and pushing into each jump. It’s working until you realize what’s next.

An element highly contested by yourself and your coach was your last jump combination: the double axel, double toe, single loop jump wedged into the second half of your program for maximum point potential. It’s something you’d struggled to execute in the past, but it was a stretch for your recovering body post-injury.

Your coach is probably off to the side praying that you opt for an easier version of this combination, but you decide to press on.

Watch me, you think as you take off. Your entire face scrunches with the effort, but it pays off. You hit the double axel, and the adrenaline rush carries your momentum to hit the double toe as well. As you’re continuing into the last jump, your hip muscles pinch in sharp pain. You flinch, and the falter causes you to underrotate the last jump completely and land on two feet. At this point, it’s a miracle that you don’t fully eat shit in the process.

The crowd gasps. You recover your bearings just enough to finish out the program with somewhat convincing artistry. Your hip burns at the scar site, the muscle underneath fatigued and tender. When the crowd applauds, you skate off to the kiss and cry, trying to keep a smile steady as you hug your coach.

“At least you left it all out there,” he says. That’s his way of saying Not perfect, but it might do.

You force a neutral expression on your face as the camera focuses on your reaction. It’ll be close, especially since a good amount of the women had skated clean. To podium, you need a score close to your season’s best, so the question is obvious: did your mistake ruin your chances?

You fidget with the pink bunny plush from your childhood in your usual kiss and cry tradition. The audience pauses in anticipation, and you feel like you’re going to vomit. Then, you hear your total score.

You’ve done it by two measly points. By the skin of your teeth, you’re making it to the podium. You cry in front of the cameras, too shocked to hold in the sobs heaving from your chest.

❅˚

In your daze and general shock at medaling, you’re hyped up into attending an afterparty before you even know it. It’s hosted by the main sponsor of today’s competition, and you typically never like to go to things like this. Of all people, it’s Sunghoon who ultimately convinces you to go.

“We should celebrate both of our comebacks,” he says with a smile. “Plus, only other skaters will be there.”

It’s enough to get you out the door in the black dress you’d managed to pack in your carry on just in case.

You’re regretting it an hour in as Sunghoon’s pulled into conversation after conversation. He’s always had the larger network between the two of you, which leaves you sipping your drink in the corner as you avoid dragging down his conversations.

You’re feeling buzzed when you feel a tap on your shoulder and hear a familiar voice speak your name.

Your jaw drops to the floor. “Jaemin?”

For the first time in a year, Na Jaemin stands in front of you. He wears a suit that’s a little too formal for this event, but it somehow makes him even more handsome than you remember.

“It’s me,” he laughs.

“I thought this was for skaters only.”

“Ouch,” he pretends to be hurt. “Are you saying I’m not a skater?”

You roll your eyes. “A skater that actually competed today, Jaemin.”

“I know some people. Come on,” he grins. “Are you really that unhappy to see me?”

Along with Sunghoon, you’d grown up attending the same rink as Jaemin. Your trio had been three peas in a pod throughout skating school; you’d even trained as an ice dance pair together for a year until Jaemin and his family decided to specialize him into speed skating. From then on, to your dismay, interactions with him had been few and far in between with your conflicting schedules. The distance only grew as you moved from juniors to then seniors in your respective disciplines.

If Sunghoon was like your brother, Jaemin was the schoolyard crush that never quite faded away. Sure, you’d dated some guys here and there over the years, but any whispers of Jaemin dating sent you scrolling on Instagram in full investigation mode. Considering that he was considered an athlete-turned-influencer with his own fan base, you saw these rumors often.

Even so, you try to play it cool by taking a long sip of your drink. “Of course I’m glad to see you, but when was the last time you even laced up your skates?”

“Ah,” Jaemin shoots you a bright smile, although you can see the nerves peek through his facade as he hesitates. “Well…last week?”

“Last week?” You raise an eyebrow. “As in…you’re thinking about coming back?”

“It’s a work in progress,” he says with a wink.

“Hmm.” Your heart beats wildly in your chest.

He seizes your sarcasm to change the subject. “You look like you’re fully back out there, though.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, you podiumed, which is more than something.” He pauses for a beat before adding, “you looked really good out there.”

The knowledge of Jaemin watching your near-disastrous free skate sends hot embarrassment crawling up your neck.

“My lead from the short program saved my ass. It would’ve looked better if this,” you point to your bad hip, “would behave the way I want it to.”

He frowns. “It’s not fully recovered?”

“It is, but it’s not. Since I spent so much time off, the muscles on my right are weaker than my left, which sucks since my right is my landing leg.” You force a smile. “The road to full-strength recovery is long.”

“As always, you need to be nicer to yourself,” he sighs. “At least you kept Mr. Hops to comfort you in the kiss and cry.”

Your face burns even hotter. “I didn’t think you would remember him.”

Mr. Hops had been Jaemin’s gift to you for your tenth birthday. You’d taken the pink plushie for your first serious competition as a junior, and you’d continued taking him well into adulthood as a good luck charm. Your hip tear had occurred during a competition where you’d left Mr. Hops sitting in your hotel room, which, in your eyes, verified your long-standing superstition.

“Of course I remember,” he smiles wide. “I’m just glad you’ve gotten a bunch of mileage out of him.”

If the earth could open under your feet and swallow you whole, now would be the time. Not only does your childhood crush remember your pink bunny’s name, but he also knows that you’ve been hauling it around everywhere for at least the past decade.

“Well,” you clear your throat. “I think Mr. Hops and his well-traveled wisdom at least reduces the odds of me having a full mental breakdown.”

“You really didn’t need to worry about anything,” he insists. “Out of everyone, I think you were the most bea–”

“Jaemin!” Sunghoon calls. His face is flushed and his breath carries the trace smell of alcohol. “Guys! Everyone wants to drink!!”

You look at Jaemin wildly for help, but he shrugs in a way that conveys what am I supposed to do about it?

You’re pulled into the main group of fellow skaters that are much too drunk; one look at the three of you together has them hollering and forcing drinks into your hands in the name of reunion. You’re not used to partying, and you’re sure as hell not used to being the center of attention among your peers. Even during your prime, you’d preferred to hang around only a couple close friends after any competition.

The spotlight puts you in a vulnerable position to accept any and all drinks. You stay much later than expected, even when Jaemin offers to help you make a quick exit. You’re the most drunk you’ve ever been, both on the physical drinks as well as the atmosphere. Once you're dancing on a table with someone who you think is Cha Jun-hwan, the night is long gone.

The next morning you wake up to banging on the door of your hotel room. Running to the entrance, you peek through the peephole first, which reveals the livid face of your PR manager, Mei.

“God!” Thunk. “Wake up, already!” Thunk thunk.

Mei isn’t the most level headed person, but, even for her, it’s way too early to be this aggressive. Whatever it is, it’s serious.

You take a deep breath, trying to will away the hangover pounding in your head as you swing the door open. “Hey, Mei–”

“Don’t hey me.” She growls. Mei stalks around your room, sticking her head into your bathroom and closet. She only hesitates when peeking around the corner toward your bed then exhales in relief.

“What on earth is going on?” You ask in bewilderment, and your gut twists. The first thing that crosses your mind is that there must be some sort of serious scandal—a failed test for a controlled substance, maybe. You don't know what else would warrant this level of panic.

“Did you have anyone over last night?”

The question catches you so off guard that you nearly trip over your own feet as you follow her erratic path around your room. “What? No!”

Mei searches behind the curtains and even bends down to look under your bed. “Just reminding you that, as your PR manager, it’s to both of our advantages if you’re forthright about any indiscretions…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You shriek. You didn’t need to hear this from someone who’s known you since your teen years.

Finally registering your genuine confusion, she squints at you. “...I thought you were ignoring me, but have you really not checked your phone at all today?”

Numbness cascades down your nerves. Your phone currently sits charging on your nightstand. “No?”

Your manager shakes her head and fishes out her laptop from her bag, placing it on the hotel dining table. The display immediately brightens into a gossip article published an hour ago.

ICE ROYALTY TO PARTY ANIMALS: A WILD NIGHT FOR THE NATION’S SWEETHEARTS

Your heart sinks low into your chest as you scroll through the contents of the article. It’s you, alright, down to last night’s little black dress while arm-in-arm with both Sunghoon and Jaemin. It’s you, leaving the car disheveled and dangerously close to a wardrobe malfunction. It’s unfortunately you, previous child prodigy, downing shots and dancing on the front page of one of the most popular gossip sites.

Shit, you think. Sunghoon must be freaking out. Jaemin, too.

While both men had gathered the nickname of Ice Prince, it was for entirely different reasons. Sunghoon carried the name for his public aloofness, while Jaemin's persona fulfilled the image of charismatic royalty.

While you’d long accepted the unfair scrutiny of being labeled a “controversial” female athlete, both Sunghoon and Jaemin ruled their private lives with an iron fist. Every post and press release was curated and picked through in order to protect their squeaky clean Ice Prince images–especially with the rising cult following of girls.

And you had messed it all up in one night.

“Was it worth it?” Mei snaps. “Did you have fun? Because it sure looks like it.”

Opening the full slideshow, almost every attendee from last night has been captured. However, the most prominent features are still yourself, Jaemin, and Sunghoon.

Wordlessly, Mei pulls up multiple social media sites, where all commentary centers on the three of you. Most old skating fans remember your friendship as a trio, but many new ones—particularly Jaemin’s new legion of followers—fixate on your presence.

did he fly out just to see her? they’re so together y’all

that picture of her on both of their arms makes me sick THAT SHOULD BE ME

embarrassing that her boyfriend had to witness such a mid program, she should retire already

You nudge the laptop so that you can no longer read the words on the screen. “I was not aware of this.”

“I see.” Mei thinks before gathering all of her things back into her bag. “Take some time to process this. Don’t make any statements to anyone yet. If you’re smart, you’ll turn off your social media notifications. We’ll talk.”

“Okay.” You’ve learned not to question her. She’s gotten you out of enough sticky situations. “I’m sorry, Mei.”

“This is just the beginning, kid,” Mei shoots you a pitying smile as she lets herself out. “Just get yourself ready for the storm that’s coming.”

❅˚

Mei gives you two days.

When she requests your presence at her office, you don’t protest. You get there ten minutes ahead of time and wait politely.

“I’m not going to yell at you,” she sighs when she sees your too-straight posture.

“Wouldn’t be unwarranted,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have gotten swept up in the atmosphere.”

“As your manager, I agree.” Mei shoots you a look. “As someone who’s always telling you to enjoy your life—I’m glad you finally stopped punishing yourself.”

You tug with your sleeve without commenting.

Mei continues. “Obviously, you already posted the official statement that we sent over yesterday. Nothing else public on social media, aside from the official pictures we got from Nationals. After that—no posting for a while.”

You nod. It’s fair enough. You’d already gotten too many unsolicited comments from strangers. Notifications were decidedly turned off, and only the bravest of souls could field your direct messages.

“There’s been something else I’ve considered for this season,” Mei hesitates. “If you’re open to it.”

Alarm bells go off in your head. “Interviews? Variety content?”

“The ice show,” Mei says.

“Classics on Ice?” You frown. “Sunghoon and I were already planning on skating.”

“You’ll skate there, sure,” Mei says, “but now it’s more.”

“More as in…promotions? Volunteering?”

Your manager shakes her head. “Yes, benefit shows usually yield good coverage. It’s also an opportunity to showcase your relationships within the skating community. During and leading up to the event. Public perception and opinions are unavoidable, but I think if you’re seen out and about being friendly with respected athletes…”

You cringe at the implication: you are simply an athlete—not a respected one. “That’s a fine idea and all, but wouldn’t that harm those athletes? I’m friends with a lot of skaters, but those friendships are away from the cameras. Except Sunghoon.”

“Right. It would be out of the blue to suddenly hang out with skaters you’ve been training and competing against for years, especially with no public history.” She leans forward. “But if there was suddenly an old friend re-entering the community—maybe that would be believable?”

Your blood chills. You recall what Jaemin told you: it’s a work in progress.

“Jaemin?” You fight to push the words out. “Jaemin’s actually returning to skating?”

Mei nods. Her shoulders relax, perhaps relieved that she didn’t have to directly break the news. “His team is making the announcement at the end of the week.”

You’re happy for him—really, you are—but disappointment tugs at your gut. Why hadn’t he told you when you asked?

“So you want me to skate in this ice show and prove that I have at least two friends. Got it. I can do that.”

Mei’s expression twists. “One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“With Jaemin coming back into the skating world, and the rumors already circulating between the two of you…” Mei bites her lip. “His management reached out to discuss, and we came to the conclusion that showcasing a…closer relationship would likely be beneficial for both parties.”

It’s her pleading expression to not freak out that makes the last puzzle piece fall into place. “A PR romance? With Jaemin? How on earth would that benefit either of us? He’ll get angry fans, and I’ll get the angry fans’ death threats!”

“You don’t need to be over the top with it,” Mei’s waving both hands, which could be her attempt to calm you down or to enact a physical barrier from you. Maybe both. “Nothing crazy or formal—people already think you're dating! Just lean into the rumors. Hang out with or without Sunghoon. Jaemin is popular, but it’s common knowledge that you all were rink rats together. You’ll get some fan hate, but we see people overall getting really into it.”

You’re speechless. You run through the impending possibilities in your mind. Jaemin, back in your hometown. Seeing him in passing. Existing in the same sphere for the first time in years.

“I still don’t understand how that would benefit him,” you say.

Mei hums. “His team can explain it more.”

“His team?” Your stomach drops. “They’re coming here? Today?”

“Oh, no,” Mei says. “We’re grabbing lunch with them.”

–

Mei whisks you away in her car. You barely process that you're heading somewhere at all. When the car pulls up in front of the nicest restaurant in the city, you think, briefly, that you must be hallucinating this entire ordeal.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she scoffs as you stumble out of the passenger’s side.

You follow her lead, baffled at the long roman-style columns at the entrance and dim, ambient lighting. Inside, you can’t even tell that it’s daytime, let alone high noon.

You’ve walked through the interior for minutes before you make a sudden left turn into a more private section of the restaurant. There, at a table around the corner, sits Jaemin with his manager.

His manager rises to shake both your and Mei’s hands. “Jeff.”

“Nice to meet you,” you manage to say, although your throat scratches like sandpaper while speaking.

When Jaemin stands up to face you, your brain glitches on the protocol. Is it proper to shake hands with a childhood best friend, especially when you’re both portrayed on the front cover of tabloids together? When you just saw him a few nights ago, and he only hinted at a comeback? When his team is proposing a PR arrangement? Is a hug too casual for this heavy atmosphere?

“Hi.” You shoot him a pained smile and sit down to avoid confronting the issue entirely. Confusion flickers across his face, but he lowers back down into his seat.

Jeff immediately transitions into business. “Thank you for meeting us today. I hope Mei was able to explain our current situation, especially since the headlines have complicated things.”

Mei nods. “She’s aware. Obviously, we’ll have to be very intentional moving forward.”

Your gaze bounces between the two as they discuss details such as social media use and public outings. You try to catch Jaemin’s eye, but he pokes around at an appetizer on his plate.

You try to listen to their brainstorming of strategies, but you can only take so much before your curiosity gets the best of you. You blurt out to Jaemin directly. “What do you get out of this deal?”

Jaemin’s eyes widen, but he still jumps to speak, as if he’s been waiting for your permission to talk. “Well, I—”

“Jaemin wants to re-enter the skating world,” Jeff interjects. “This…relationship could renew interest in his previous success, since you’re very deeply linked with that time period.”

You frown, but you’re starting to get the picture. You’re sure that this morning’s article alone has most likely sent fans hunting for old skating footage. There’s even some old trio pictures still visible on both your and Sunghoon’s Instagram profiles.

You’ve also seen enough fragments of Jaemin’s fanbase online to know that a public girlfriend would likely alienate the most unhealthily attached fans.

Maybe that’s what someone like him needed to be taken seriously in the athletic world again, just like how you wish people would speak about your current skating and instead of the old.

“Anything else I should know? Any stipulations before I offer myself up as bait for one of the most viral athletes known for having crazy fans?”

Jaemin’s gaze shoots up at you in the corner of your eye. You ignore it as you glare down Mei and Jeff.

“There’s one thing our team is thinking of,” Jeff starts. He side eyes you as if you’re a wild animal ready to pounce. “The charity ice show you’re skating in.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, they’re having a speed skating demo?”

Your sarcasm falls on deaf ears; if he picks up on it, Jeff doesn’t even flinch. “We’ve been told that both you and Jaemin trained together in ice dance before settling in your respective sports.”

Your jaw tightens. “No. I’m not committing to an ice dance routine. It’s way too late to be practicing for that.”

Mei says nothing, but she nods her head.

“As you wish.” Jeff seems unfazed. “We’ll find something else for Jaemin. If you change your mind, please let us know.”

“I won’t. I mean, I don’t foresee that changing, but we’ll let you know,” you hastily add after sensing Mei’s disapproval. “Thank you.”

Mei and Jeff dominate the discussion throughout lunch, and they’re still chatting as you all rise to leave your table. You find yourself in stride with Jaemin, who seems to be looking everywhere but you.

“So. You're moving back,” you say.

He turns towards you, surprised. “I am. I’m moving out of my old place next Monday.”

“So it was a work in progress, after all.” You try to keep your tone light, but it doesn’t prevent the sour edge in your voice from seeping through.

His expression twists with guilt. “I was going to tell you, but then things started moving too fast. I lost the opportunity. This relationship—PR situation—was not my idea.”

You don’t respond. Your ego stings; you’d asked him so many questions out of a genuine interest to catch up, and the whole while he'd held you at arm's length. Your teams concocted this plan, rather than talk it through first with you as a friend.

Jaemin searches your face. “What do you think of all of this?”

You think that you want to delete Instagram altogether, retire from skating, and tell everyone to stuff their clout-chasing proposals up their—

Really, you should calm down. You have to admit that you could benefit from this arrangement. Sure, there would be hate and an uptick in public interest in your private life, but Mei is right. After these headlines, you’re bound to receive more criticism anyway—maybe returning the focus to your oldest friends would remind the world of your younger self. Before all of the hardship. Nostalgia as a vehicle of empathy.

As for Jaemin, you’re not sure what to make of his sudden re-appearance in your life. Any giddiness is now tempered by the jaded realism of your position. Maybe knowing his true intentions is better for your working relationship, since, moving forward, you should be treating this as a professional arrangement.

“Let’s do it,” your laugh sounds harsh and flat. “What more do I have to lose, right?”

❅˚

Upon returning home, you’re allowed one day of sweet radio silence from any obligations. You mute almost all notifications and lose yourself in your favorite shows.

Then, Jaemin’s announcement drops, and all hell breaks loose.

The overall response shows widespread support for Jaemin’s return to speed skating. The speculation of his move, however, has everyone up in a flurry trying to figure out why. Technically, his city’s rink is superior in all of their facilities and amenities. His coach was based mainly in your rink, but he was so close to retirement and was open about only coaching Jaemin.

You’re not sure why he’s chosen to return here, either. From what you know, a large portion of speed skating training isn’t always in the rink, anyway.

Everyone online, however, is staunchly convinced that you must be the reason. You scroll past everything from pregnancy rumors to social media accounts posting threads surrounding the early “evidence” to prove the existence of this secret relationship. As far as your social media feed is concerned, you're practically married.

Half of it seems to be in good fun—a lot of supportive fans make jokes about finally glimpsing into Jaemin’s notoriously private life. The other half of it is not so fun, manifesting in hate comments and threatening direct messages that trigger you to crack down on your account privacy.

Hey, Jaemin texts you after you temporarily set your Instagram to private. You okay?

You don’t respond. Something stubborn and petty wants to double down . So what if you got photographed drinking with friends? Was society really so fucked up that you had to put in work to protect your peace while both of the ice princes got off scot-free?

When you pull your car into the rink parking lot to a couple of flashing cameras, you know that the answer is undoubtedly yes. You’d hoped for a serene first practice back, but you anticipate Jaemin’s presence before you even open the door.

In fact, he’s literally on the other side, sitting at one of the benches between the back entrance and the ice.

Jaemin stands when he sees you. “Hey, good morning—”

You cut to the chase. “What do you want, Jaem?”

“I just thought I’d say hi before your practice,” he says. He seems encouraged by your use of his old nickname; you make a mental note to avoid using it again.

“You got up at the ass crack of dawn to send me off to practice?”

“Uh—no?” Jaemin points over his shoulder. “I’m doing some strength training first in the gym, then I’ll take over the ice for some light stuff after you.”

“Alright then,” you say. You step past him and continue on. “See you.”

“Will I?”

You turn around. “Will you what?”

“Will I see you soon?” Jaemin studies you. “You’re not answering my texts.”

“There’s nothing in our contractthat requires me to text you back,” you point out. You’re all too familiar with the terms and conditions, as you reviewed and signed the paperwork in the days prior. “I can talk to Mei to put a staged outing on the calendar.”

“No.” He exhales and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m trying to say that we should actually do something together. No calendars, no managers. Definitely no cameras.”

You frown. “Why would we do that?”

“Because we’re friends?” There’s a slight gravel to Jaemin's voice. He’s losing his patience with you, and you’re relishing in it.

“We were friends,” you say. Your grip on your duffel bag tightens. “I thought we were still friends up until Nationals. Before you wanted to use our friendship for notoriety.”

“We can still be friends through this,” he says. “It’s not one or the other. And I told you, this wasn’t my idea.”

You sigh. If he’s going to be so persistent about this, you might as well be direct. “Let me be clear. I hate this arrangement. I’m only doing it because Mei thinks it’s a good idea, I trust her, and for once I’d love for people to stop betting against my skating. That’s it. I’m not doing this because we’re friends. That was pretty much ruined once the paperwork was signed.”

Jaemin opens his mouth to argue, but he’s cut off by a voice from the other side of the rink.

“Hey!” Your coach shouts. “That’s a whole lot of talking and not a lot of warming up.”

You give Jaemin your fakest smile. “You heard the man. Have a good work out, Jaemin.”

You put your all into practice to clear your mind. It’s hard, but the determination to stand on your words keeps your focus razor sharp.

When you’re wiping your blades down and stowing away your things, you think that’s the end of it. Then, you hear the sound of the doors to the ice shutting. You straighten your back and peek through the glass.

Jaemin’s already set up a series of small cones that you assume must be to simulate the short track path. He skates around in long, fluid circles.

Your throat catches. He’s always been so beautiful on the ice. Sure, speed and power were par for the course with speed skating, but his edge control and maneuvers are so finely tuned that you're impressed. Even after all these years, Jaemin still looks like a top athlete.

Jaemin’s skates scrape across the ice as he stops. As if he has a sixth sense for your presence, he turns his gaze towards you. He nods, then, after a moment, raises his hand in a wave.

You turn away and stuff your last remaining item into your duffel. You don’t look back as you leave.

Over the next few weeks, your encounters with Jaemin go more or less the same. He waits to greet you in the morning, and you shut him down every time. You’re not sure what he aims to achieve by waiting it out— you’ve made yourself quite clear—but nevertheless he seems to show up day after day, morning after morning.

Until one day, he doesn’t. When you march through the rink one morning, you’re not met with Jaemin but by an old man that you haven’t seen in a very long time.

You start and nearly drop your bag. “Coach Brown?”

Coach Brown’s smile lines spread over his entire face. While he’s gotten older, you haven’t forgotten the kindness that your childhood coach exudes. “I had to come by now that the three musketeers are back under this roof.”

You laugh, but it’s held taut by guilt. “It’s definitely an unexpected development.”

The old man’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Although the three of you are in a bit of a rut, aren’t you?”

Your palms sweat. “You saw Jaemin this morning?”

“Just ten minutes ago,” Coach Brown shrugs. Then, his expression darkens. “You know, the worst thing you could do is turn your back on your past.”

You blink. “Sorry? What did Jaemin—”

“Sunghoon,” he waves you off before continuing. “It’s been explained to me that you are…less than enthused about the situation, but you still should treat your peers with respect. Carving out a path for yourself doesn’t mean you need to block out the others.”

“Coach—” You can’t even fully process his sentence before he cuts you off again.

“You’ve always had the worst temper of the three,” Coach Brown wags his finger in your face. “Calm yourself down and face it like an adult.”

As fast as he came around, he marches away and disappears through the doors leading up to management’s office.

You stare after him long after the doors close, dazed. You feel twelve-years-old again, getting nagged at to be nice to the boys.

After your training ends a bit early, you happen to catch Jaemin as he puts on his skates. “Morning,” you say.

Jaemin’s head whips up so fast that he swings too far back and bumps his head against the back of the boards. “Oh shit—hey?”

“I saw Coach Brown this morning,” you say.

He brightens. “Me too. I hope I’m half as active as him when I’m that age.”

You don’t respond, instead searching his features and body language for any dishonesty. It’s a stare-off—you, chewing on your lip and Jaemin, confused and massaging the back of his head.

That’s it, you admit to yourself. He didn’t tell Coach Brown anything.

And admittedly—both from the open hope in Jaemin’s expression and your shame from being nagged at—perhaps the old man was right about some things, after all.

“Would you be free to grab lunch tomorrow?” You ask before you change your mind. “There’s a new ramen place that opened up last weekend—”

“Yes!” He answers before you’ve fully finished your sentence. “I know which one you’re talking about. I can pick you up?”

“Oh—uh—that’s okay, I think.”

Jaemin shakes his head. “You’re on the way, let me do it.”

Your jaw tightens, but you swallow your pride. “Sure. Noon?”

He nods without saying anything. The two of you stare at each other.

“Well,” you break the awkward silence first. “Have a good practice.”

“You too.” Jaemin cringes. “I mean, shit, have a good day. See you tomorrow.”

At that, you turn away.

Take that, Coach Brown, you think. Look whose temper is adequately controlled.

❅˚

Twenty minutes before noon, you nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock at the door.

You rake over your appearance in the mirror and make desperate last-minute touch-ups. Sure, it's just lunch, but you were never sure when a rogue camera might snap pictures of you in public. The paparazzi had ceased showing up outside of the rink after the first two days, but the initial onslaught had left you paranoid of any flash or loud chatter.

“You’re early,” you say as you open the door, a little breathless.

Sunghoon blinks back at you. “I am?”

It’s your turn to stare. “Sunghoon. Why are you here?”

Regardless of your confusion, you step aside to let him in. As always, Sunghoon makes himself comfortable on your living room couch. “I was bored. Wanna get lunch?”

“About that.” You cross your arms. “Jaemin is picking me up in fifteen minutes.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows raise. “You finally decided to stop hating him?”

“I don’t hate him—” you fume. “I still disagree with how he went about things, but I might have just gotten a little too mad.”

Your friend snorts and mumbles something under his breath.

“What?” You punch his arm.

“Ow!” Sunghoon swats away your swings. “I said big surprise—clearly you’re the most hotheaded one out of all of us.

“Brown said the same thing,” you mutter.

Sunghoon pauses. “Isn’t it a little crazy that people are just letting him go right back to work? Right after his surgery, too.”

You shrug. “He seemed healthy enough to lecture me about Jaemin. He said I had the worst temper out of us three.”

He smirks. “Wow. The old man needed to get involved to get your head out of your ass.”

“And who tipped him off in the first place?”

“And who with the worst temper gave me this red mark on my arm just now?”

Touche. “Anyways,” you change the subject. “Wanna go with us?”

“Um,” Sunghoon grimaces. “Not if it’s going to be awkward.”

“It won’t be,” you insist. You shoot out a quick text to Jaemin: Sunghoon randomly showed up at my place. Mind if he comes?

Within thirty seconds, your phone vibrates again. Of course. The more the merrier, it says.

“See,” you hand your phone to him. “Jaemin doesn’t care.”

“He’s not in the position to object,” Sunghoon laughs. “From that wall of text? This is clearly the first time you’ve texted him in weeks. He’s probably just saying yes so that you don’t change your mind and run away.”

You roll your eyes. “So you’re not coming?”

“I didn’t say that,” Sunghoon says. "I'm hungry."

You would’ve been more nervous about merging the group if you’d known about Sunghoon’s intrusion beforehand, but it works out well for the car ride over. Jaemin and Sunghoon seem to pick up right where they put their friendship down.

Their conversation goes from topic to topic, but your mind is reeling. It’s too easy, riding as a passenger in Jaemin’s old car, to feel like you’re a teenager again.

The new ramen place is tucked away in a plaza constructed in the last two years. It’s still finding its niche—the only other businesses in the center are a pharmacy and a dollar store—and the ramen place is the most exciting thing to have happened to it.

“Oof,” Sunghoon says as you approach the shop. From the outside, you can see that there’s only a handful of people inside. “Is that too awkward?”

Jaemin steps forward. “It’s not empty.” He swings the door open before any of you can think about it further.

Jaemin and Sunghoon are full steam ahead with their conversations. You’re jealous, in a way. Both of them have so much natural charisma that it overflows into all their interactions. On the other hand, you feel like you always have to work for it.

You all end up ordering different things from the menu. You’re halfway through observing the interior decor when you realize the rest of the table has gone silent.

“So…” Jaemin says. He leans his head into his hand. “How’s it been?”

“How’s it been?” You repeat.

“Since Nationals,” Jaemin clarifies.

Sunghoon stiffens in the corner of your vision. You try to level your facial expression.

“I mean,” you can’t help the wry smile rising to your face. “I deleted social media from my phone. Mei’s posting for me so I don’t have to see the hate. I’m avoiding the news outlets for the same exact reason."

Jaemin swallows. “Right.”

“What about you?” It’s as much as a way to change the topic as it is genuine curiosity. “How are your fans taking the return announcement?”

“Mostly well,” he admits. “Older fans are excited. Younger fans are confused but trying to be supportive, which I appreciate.”

The elephant in the room goes unaddressed. You saw the comments before officially deciding to hand the reins over to Mei. You know for a fact that there were rumors on top of rumors swirling around your connection to both Jaemin and Sunghoon.

“I delete all of the hate comments,” Sunghoon says as if reading your mind. “Just for my own peace of mind, really. I can’t stand seeing that shit on my page.”

“You should try filtering words,” Jaemin suggests. “That’s helped diffuse some of it for me.”

You frown. While you can tell that both have good intentions, it doesn’t make you feel any better. In fact, it’s worse—you feel like a taboo to hide from the world, despite your status as a well-known figure in the skating world.

“You don’t have to delete or filter anything.” You feel a deep sense of resoluteness. “Let them talk.”

The guys exchange glances. “Sure, people will talk,” Jaemin says. “Doesn’t mean you need to entertain seeing it.”

You shrug, looking between the two as your bowls of ramen are placed in the table space in front of you. “Filtering out words won’t stop them. We’ll just give them something to talk about before they move on.”

Jaemin’s smile curls. A hint of his teeth pokes through. “What do you suggest we do to make them talk?”

You think for a moment before holding your phone in the air with a shake of your hand. “Pose for me?”

❅˚

After that first lunch, talking to Jaemin gets easier. You chat briefly whenever you run into each other at the rink, and sometimes you grab a post-practice coffee if your schedules line up. You don’t text, but Jaemin sends a few skating memes after you log back into Instagram—a cautious way to test the water.

“What’s your goal with coming back?” You ask during one brunch after training.

Jaemin’s eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t lose his easy smile. “My goal?”

“I mean—” you scramble to find the right words. Hell, you should think before speaking sometimes. “Why decide to come back now? You have so many opportunities outside of skating.”

Skaters who would kill for his following. Not many people would intentionally halt their own momentum, let alone actively endanger it with a fake relationship.

Jaemin leans back in his chair. “Why did you come back? After your injury?”

“Rude. I asked first.” Regardless, you think out loud. “No one’s actually asked me why. Everyone just assumed that I would try to come back after I was ready.”

“Would you have, even if they hadn’t assumed?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say without hesitating.

“Why?”

“It’s not what people would expect from me,” you start. “I knew it was going to be a long road to any sort of podium, and I didn’t even expect to get there at all. I came back…to see if I could, I guess. Skating has just been such a big part of my life; I wasn't ready to give it up.”

Jaemin’s smile brightens. “That’s my answer too.”

“Uh…” You bite your lip. “It’s not that I don’t admire you for coming back, but you weren’t injured. You left first.”

“I did.” Jaemin thinks for a moment. “When I quit, I genuinely thought that skating had nothing more to offer me. But the more time passed, the more I realized that something was missing.”

This is the most you’ve ever heard him talk about his choice to leave. He had never spoken about it outside of the initial press statement, and he’d all but disappeared from the community after. “What made you realize something was missing?”

“Ah, you know.” Jaemin scratches the back of his head. “Just intuition.”

You stare at him. “You came back after years based on some magical intuition? Right out of thin air?”

His cheeks turn pink. “What’s wrong with trusting your intuition?”

“Just seems too good to be true, I guess.” You take a long sip of your drink. “Ignore me. I’m a pessimist nowadays.”

Silence. Then, Jaemin speaks up again. “If you have to know, I saw some old footage. I got the urge to get on the ice, so I did. Casually skating didn’t feel like it was enough. I felt the pull to do everything—compete the right way, by coming home and reconnecting with everyone.”

It’s like his dark eyes are looking through you and your thoughts.

You think back to the months following your injury. In the darkest moments when you considered giving up skating for good, it always led to reminiscing via old videos. Everything from old competition footage to videos of you messing around with the other kids—sometimes it was your last anchor to hope. More than the nostalgia interwoven in the past, you craved to perform again.

“I know exactly what you mean,” you smile, then hesitate. “I’m glad you’re back.”

The seriousness melts away. He wiggles his eyebrows. “Mean it?”

You snort. “Forget it.”

“Too late,” Jaemin points to his temples. “It’s already saved here. No camera needed.”

❅˚

You push on your bike, fighting for your life to pedal to the music while trying to follow the spin instructor’s directions. Beads of sweat roll down your skin, and your throat feels dry.

You sneak a glance at Jaemin. The bastard looks like he’s barely breaking a sweat. In fact, if it he wasn't right next to you, anyone could easily mistake him as the instructor.

He leans toward your bike. “Are you doing okay?”

“I have decent cardio!” You pant over the bass-loaded music. “I’m fine!”

You sound so not fine that Jaemin throws his head back in laughter.

“You two in the back!” The instructor calls out. “Less talking, more pedaling!”

There were only so many cafes close to the rink to try, so working out together is your most recent attempt at activities together. Jaemin insisted that it’s valuable cross-training for your respective sports—you’re not sure that you agree with the sentiment for your discipline, but it’s a nice supplement to your training schedule.

“What did you think about that instructor?” Jaemin asks as he holds the door open for you.

You snort. “Too intense and too much bass boosting.”

Your phone vibrates with texts and phone calls. You don’t even flinch as you start blocking and reporting the unknown callers.

“Wow, you’re popular,” Jaemin jokes while he backs out of his parking spot.

You don’t say anything. There’s no use in dragging Jaemin into it; not when there’s nothing to be done. At the very least, you appreciate that Jaemin always offers to drive.

“Can I ask you something?” Jaemin asks as he pulls up to your place.

“No,” you laugh before registering the nervousness creeping in on his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Well,” Jaemin clears his throat. “Remember when my team brought up performing an ice dance together at that benefit show?”

“I do.”

“I know that it wasn’t brought up in a very good way.” Jaemin’s eyes flit around your face. “But do you think there’s any part of you that would be open to reconsidering that decision?”

The question makes you freeze. “Why?”

“My team won’t let up about it. I keep telling them that there’s really no need for me to participate…”

He’s continuing into some sort of explanation, but you’re hung up on the first part of his sentence. Sure, Mei and Jeff had been the catalyst for your reunion, but something about the mention of my team douses you as a cold reminder. In the midst of early morning rides and deep conversations over brunch, you’d forgotten that this was all manufactured.

“Our agreement ends right after the ice show, right?” You ask.

He nods. “But it’s just the official clause—of course, I want to—”

“Can you please tell your team that I will not be entertaining this notion again?” You reach for the door.

“Wait, stop. What did I say?” Jaemin’s climbing out of the car too, and a high pitch beeps over and over as he abandons the driver’s seat.

“Maybe I’m just tired,” you huff. “I see you almost every day, and I’m still training. Am I supposed to be all happy-go-lucky all the time? It’s not like we’re friends.”

Jaemin physically recoils. “This again? We are friends.”

“I hadn’t talked to you in years before you decided to come back,” you state matter-of-factly. “We’re bound by a contract. We’re not friends, Jaemin. We’re coworkers.”

You turn on your heel and walk towards your place.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Jaemin calls after you. “You just get to say your piece and storm off?”

You face him. “Go on, then. What do you want to say?”

He stands there for a minute, and his face flashes through a chain of expressions. Jaemin opens his mouth to speak but then closes it again. He shakes his head before shutting himself back in his car. The tires squeak against the asphalt as he drives away.

You pace around your house in angry circles. You should feel better, but instead you generate new reasons to be mad at him. Aside from the contractual nature of your arrangement, didn’t he understand that interfering with your art was an entirely different matter? You could go on a million fake dates and post content on social media, but your time on the ice is the only thing that’s truly yours.

You’re halfway through rage-cleaning your kitchen when your screen lights up with Jaemin’s name. You ignore it, but then Sunghoon calls second, then Mei calls next.

You choose to call Sunghoon back, ready to defend your outburst, but your stomach plummets when you pick up the phone to Sunghoon sniffling.

All your anger dissipates into fear. “What happened?”

“Coach Brown collapsed today,” he rasps. “They're not sure if he's going to make it.”

❅˚

Mei and Jeff sit at the front of the conference room. Mei openly observes you and Jaemin. Jaemin sits scrolling on his phone with the hood of his jacket pulled over his head. You cross your arms and try to look anywhere else.

Mei and Jeff review the last month in social media posts and general media coverage. You nod to yourself without listening—they always say the same things anyway: good reception, decent reach, more posting if possible. Today’s presentation is much shorter than expected, with no concrete dates to post strategic content.

You take it as a sign to leave and grab your bag. Jaemin moves as well, putting his phone into his pocket.

“I’m sure you both are worried about Coach Brown,” Mei says suddenly.

You both freeze in place. Your eyes dart to Jaemin, to gauge his reaction, but he’s already looking at you.

You had thought about texting Jaemin a million times since the news broke. You’d checked in on Sunghoon, but he was the type of person to hold things in until later down the line. You didn’t want to push him too hard, since you’re sure that he’s hurting just as much as you.

Looking at the glassiness of Jaemin’s eyes, you’re certain that he’s thought about reaching out to you, too.

“He'll fight through it,” your voice croaks against the silence. “He was a great man.”

“The greatest,” Jaemin says without taking his eyes off of you.

“This may feel a little premature, but the foundation reached out,” Mei prefaces. “They’re having part of the ice show's proceeds go directly to Coach Brown’s family. They asked to confirm if both of you—and Sunghoon, of course—are still planning on participating?”

“Of course,” you answer.

“Are they sure they still want all of us?” Jaemin asks. “I’m not competing in figure skating or ice dance.”

Mei shrugs. “You were in talks before, but I’m guessing it’s because the three of you are his most prominent students. Of course, you went to speed skating eventually, but you were still under him for the entirety of your juniors career.”

Jaemin nods to himself. “It’s relatively short, right?”

Mei hesitates. “Well, I’m not quite sure of the hard details—”

Jaemin shakes his head. “It doesn’t really matter. I’m in. I’ll figure it out.”

“We can skate together.”

It’s like the entire room has forgotten about your attendance; all three heads snap toward you, eyes wide.

“You want to?” Mei’s eyebrows climb to her hairline. “Now?”

That’s not exactly a great vote of confidence, but you persist nonetheless. “It’s going to help Coach Brown and his family. It’s as simple as that.”

“Will that be okay to prepare for?” Jaemin blurts out. “While you’re training for everything else, I mean.”

You shrug. “Sunghoon’s also competing.”

“It’s just a lot to balance.”

You stare at him. You’re flush with irritation, but you manage to keep your voice level as you respond. “I’ll manage.”

“Well,” Jeff interjects. He clears his throat loudly and moves to disconnect his computer from the room's screen. “That should be more than enough for today. We’ll both be in touch for details on the exhibition, but our next meeting should be in two weeks as usual.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” you drone as you gather your bag and exit.

You’re not even halfway down the stairwell when a hand latches onto your elbow.

“Wait,” Jaemin rasps. “Talk to me. Five minutes. Please.”

He’s panting like he’s run a mile. You nod. “What is it?”

“You don’t need to say yes, you know.” Jaemin says. “I wouldn’t blame you if you just wanted to work on your own program right now.”

You bristle. “Are you going to ask Sunghoon the same question?”

Jaemin leans his weight against the stairwell railing. “One day we’re laughing and talking about anything and everything, and then the next day you’re telling me that we’re not friends. One day you draw the hard boundary that we will never perform together, and then now you’re willing to. Why are you so upset with me?”

“I’m willing only for the sake of Coach Brown.” Your restrained and rational side snaps. You talk a step forward into Jaemin’s personal space. “I’ve been mad, Jaem. I’ve been pissed since you made your stupid announcement to come back to our rink—some of your crazy fans have found my real phone number, did you know that?”

He's speechless.

You continue. “Ever since coming back from my injury, I can’t do anything right. If I talk about my mental health as an athlete, I’m seen as complaining. If I can’t land a jump? I’m washed up. If my makeup is looking a little off on competition day? My age is showing, and I should feel lucky that someone so old can still compete. People hate me so much that it’s my best PR strategy to become someone’s hated girlfriend, because the new hate is considered an improvement from my old hate.”

“I didn’t know you were being harassed on your personal number,” he mutters.

“And why would you?” You scoff. “It doesn’t matter that we used to know each other, okay? Even though everyone down to Coach Brown wants us to be so close—”

“Coach Brown said something to you before?” Jaemin leans in, which makes you take a step back.

“Well, kinda—”

“Please,” he begs. Desperation lines his eyes. “Tell me what you talked about. I could barely catch him here because of my odd hours, let alone talk to him. I regret that more than anything.”

Your anger wanes. You feel a flash of pity followed by a stark reminder of your surroundings—what were you doing, yelling at Jaemin in a stairwell?

You wrack your brain for a white lie, but nothing comes up on the spot. You’ve already exposed it anyway, so you might as well tell the truth. “He told me to control my temper and stop being mad at you for nothing.”

You expect something like a snarky comment, but Jaemin just looks surprised. “He knew it’s fake?”

You shrug. “I didn’t tell him anything. He either knows us too well or heard something through the grapevine. Or he heard me yelling at you and put two and two together.”

Jaemin snorts, but he doesn’t respond.

You shift uncomfortably. “That was pretty much it. He said the worst thing I could do was turn my back on my past.”

Jaemin pauses for a long time before speaking. “Can I say something to you? No Mei, no Jeff, no social media?”

Your heart feels stuck in your throat. You swallow thickly. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” His gaze burns through you. “I should’ve talked to you more during and after Nationals. I definitely should’ve warned you about the batshit plan our agents were making—I know that probably made you lose trust in me instantly.”

Jaemin glances at you, no doubt expecting some sort of correction or flash of emotion, but you remain silent. He continues: “I know it’s stupid, but they presented me with possible options for a PR relationship — it was going to happen regardless to acclimate the public to my return to skating. They suggested you last, but I think I agreed too fast. I should’ve talked to you before my team made contact with yours.”

Your mind swims with the new information. A laugh slips from your throat without realizing it. “I think I might’ve been the worst choice possible.”

He reddens. “Coach Brown gave me the idea, if I’m being honest.”

Your stomach drops. “What do you mean?”

“I ran into him here while practicing. Before everything, and before I officially planned to come back.” He admits. “I was venting to him about the concept of a PR relationship—I promise you I didn’t want to—and he started to rehash his past troubles with the media.”

“He got mad when Sunghoon got coverage about his real high school girlfriend,” you recall. “He would’ve lost his mind at a fake one.”

“He didn’t say anything weird,” Jaemin shrugs. “Just a hypothetical: ‘wouldn’t it be nice if someone you feel comfortable with could stand in, instead of doing something like that with a stranger.’”

What was it that Coach Brown had said to you? You should be grateful that he’s someone you feel comfortable around.

The edges of your mouth curl into a bittersweet smile. “That bastard.”

Jaemin smiles back, and your heart flips.

Coach Brown had essentially influenced this entire production. The realization causes tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. “Jaemin—”

“I should've talked to him more.” His eye grow misty. “I fucked up. I should’ve spent time with him, instead of focusing on all of the drama.”

You twitch forward, but you stop yourself short of hugging him. You pat his back in slow taps while holding back your own tears. “It’s not your fault. None of us knew that this would happen.”

He stiffens at your touch. “You don’t need to comfort me, you know. I know you hate me.”

Your stomach drops. “I never hated you, Jaemin. I was just hurt—it felt like you were using me.”

Once you speak it, you know it to be the truth. Try as you might, you could never hate Jaemin. Even if given away ten years ago, you know that he will always hold part of your heart.

“That was never my intention,” he whispers. “I know it’s hard to believe.”

“I see that now,” you acknowledge. “I’ve been an asshole, Jaem. I want to start over. ”

Jaemin sniffs back his remaining tears. He offers you a weak smile. “I’d like that.”

You reach towards him with your hand. “Friends?”

His hand closes over yours, only to pull you forward into a big hug. “Friends. Always.”

Your hands rise from your sides and travel up his back. You squeeze him tight. “Always. I’m sorry it took me so long to remember.”

“One, two, three, turn, two, three—” your choreographer, Maci, counts your steps with a patient tone.

You focus on your footwork. You’re still practicing without music; it’s just Maci’s voice mixed with your shoes squeaking against the floor. You extend your right arm behind you in a soft sweep, and you imagine it making a perfect line with your posture.

Instead, your tricep sticks against something soft yet clammy.

“Mmph—” Jaemin grunts behind you. “That’s my face.”

You stop and wipe your arm. “Sweaty.”

In sync, you both walk to the edge of the room to chug your water.

Practice for the ice show was truly underway, and you all had spent the last week learning choreography off ice. You and Sunghoon had quickly picked up on your routines for your individual portions. Sunghoon would do his routine completely by himself, as he would for any normal exhibition. You, however, would split yours into two: one minute by yourself, then one minute with Jaemin.

It wasn’t a complete disaster, but you were picking it up together slower than either of you anticipated. Jaemin struggled to lead, while you would misjudge your distance and step on his foot—or, in this case, slap him with your tricep.

“I might as well not be there,” Jaemin jokes with you during water breaks. “What happened to all of our training?”

“Our ice dance training from nearly ten years ago?”

“I think you legitimately forget that Jaemin is there if you don’t see him,” Sunghoon observes from the back. Although he almost always finishes before you, he tends to stick around. “You should skate with a rearview mirror.”

“Ha, ha.”

“Actually…” Maci looks lost in thought before nodding her head. “You have a point.”

You gape at her. “You think I need a rearview mirror?”

“Of course not,” she says. Noticeably, Sunghoon deflates slightly in his corner. “I just meant that he has a point…somewhere in there. You guys are taking up completely different spaces”

You both blink at her.

She rolls her eyes, then taps through her phone. A classic waltz plays over the small speakers overhead. “Dance in hold. Just a basic waltz, please.”

Jaemin grins and bows deeply. He extends a hand toward you. “May I have this dance?”

“Corny,” you groan while taking his hand with your right. You straighten your posture and bring your other hand to hold onto his bicep. Likewise, his right hand tucks over your shoulder blade. You’re both glistening with sweat, but you feel goosebumps raise where his hand glides over your skin.

The music continues to play overhead, but neither of you move. Jaemin waits another two measures before leading you across the floor. It’s a simple waltz, but you feel hyperaware of every movement, big and small. You swear Jaemin’s fingers tighten where your hands are clasped together.

“There you go!” Maci calls out.

Right when you’re thinking that’s a green light to call it, she shouts out again. “Now hold eye contact!”

You look up, ready to break the silence with a joke, but your smile drops when you see Jaemin's eyes. They’re dark and captivating—that much hasn’t changed—but there’s an undercurrent of something else that leaves you paralyzed. You nearly forget to breathe, as you have to focus all of your attention on matching his steps.

“How does this pace feel?” He asks while holding eye contact. There’s a ghost of a smirk.

Your heart races so fast that you can’t hear the music over your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “It’s a great pace. Feels good.”

You only realize the innuendo after it’s too late. Your face heats as he laughs at you.

“Alright!” Maci shouts out. “First run through of the partner section with the music! I’ll count you off.”

You start alone in the center of the floor with your arms extended, since that’ll be your position on the ice once your solo wraps up. Similar to how it will be on the ice, you don’t see Jaemin as he approaches; his hands rest on your waist first.

Your heartbeat instantly spikes; you’re unsure if it’s due to the contact or the adrenaline.

You brace your core as he lifts you and turns the two of you in a slight spin.

We’re really doing this, you realize as you extend through the lift. It’s a little wobbly—both of your faults, you think—but you get through it. Jaemin lowers you back onto your feet. Even though the landing is a little rough, a lift is a lift.

You turn out to face each other. Jaemin extends his arm toward you. His features are bright and confident, as if teasing you to come closer. For a split second, it reminds you of the easy stage presence he always carried as a performer.

You take his hand and continue with the rest of the routine. As this is an exhibition show and your dance together is an homage to Coach Brown, all of the elements within this showcase are mostly basic in nature. Sure, you both can tackle the various step sequences with a languid artistry not intuitive to non-skaters, but it’s nowhere close enough in difficulty to a competition program.

“You’re thinking too much,” Jaemin murmurs through a spin.

“I’m worried we’ll look silly,” you say as you part.

“No worrying when we’re dancing,” he says. “Just think about me.”

You do. You hold eye contact throughout the remainder of the step sequence, and all your thoughts revolve around him. His positioning—should you adjust a bit so you’re a little closer? You even focus on how your lines are extending towards him. Mostly technical things, but above all—Jaemin is like the sun, pulling everything towards him, and you can’t help but be swept into his orbit.

Your last element is a stationary lift where Jaemin anchors you by your waist and legs to hold you horizontally. Your entrance works, his hand grips your waist, but you flinch the second his other hand grabs your inner thigh.

“Oof—” your lower half drops to the ground, although Jaemin’s hold on your torso is enough to prevent full impact. “Thanks.”

For the first time, you glance around at your audience. Sunghoon looks away and scratches the back of his neck. Maci’s cheeks tinge with pink as she frantically reaches to stop the music.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with a frown as Jaemin pulls you to your feet. “Did it look bad?”

“No, uh—” Maci claps her hands together in light, awkward taps. She clears her throat. “It’s like you never left, Jaemin.”

“You guys are going to get questions about this routine for the rest of your lives,” Sunghoon snorts. “But it’ll get the donations going.”

Jaemin releases his hold on your hand. You flex it thoughtfully; you hadn’t realized that you hadn’t let go.

You look at your dance partner, but Jaemin’s expression tightens into something unreadable. “Yup, great for charity.”

Your day continues as usual—more individual runthroughs, a snack after practice, and mindless chats with your little group. But when you sleep that night, parsing through your day, you can’t shake the phantom feeling of his hand in yours.

❅˚

“I have to ask you a question,” Sunghoon says before you even have the chance to shut the passenger door.

You blink at him through sleepy eyes. “Right now? It’s 5am.”

Sunghoon puts the car into drive and heads in the direction of Jaemin’s apartment.

“So?” Your crankiness asks. “What’s your question—?”

“Do you have feelings for Jaemin?”

“Uh,” you’re genuinely at a loss for words. “Are we talking about currently, or when we were in middle school?”

He doesn’t respond. There’s not even any music playing in the car, so you squirm in your seat against the silence.

You clear your throat. “Why are you asking?”

“Because the two of you look like you’re ready to jump each other at any moment.”

“Ew, Hoon.”

"You're also acting different." Sunghoon gives you a look. “You would’ve already told me if it was anyone else.”

You break eye contact. Dancing with Jaemin again had asserted one thing: you could not deny your physical attraction to him. The chemistry overflowed, even when you watched practice footage back. Sure, he’s always been your type, but his face had grown more handsome and his body more chiseled into adulthood.

When it came to your emotional connection to him, however, your feelings are a big, jumbled mess. Becoming close again has been easy, but something in the air lingers between you two. It's difficult to differentiate the layers of physical attraction, nostalgia, and genuine fondness. How could you explain the complexities to Sunghoon when you barely understood them yourself?

“It’s just partner chemistry and the tone of our routine.” You groan. “Calm down.”

Sunghoon glares at you as he pulls into Jaemin’s apartment complex. He doesn’t respond, but his expression is crystal clear: I’m going to ask you about this again.

“Good morning,” Jaemin sings as he enters the car. “You guys are grumpier than usual.”

You and Sunghoon exchange a look; when he pointedly looks back at the road without a word, you figure he’s leaving any explanation to you.

You cross your arms. “You’re five minutes late.”

Jaemin snorts. “Touche.”

The rest of the drive is quiet. The heater in Sunghoon’s car fights against the cold air outside, but you pull your jacket around you nonetheless.

Starting today, the two of you are practicing your routine for the show on the actual ice. While the cast was just formally announced last week, the post had generated buzz almost immediately. All the marketing team had to do was put the list of names in their caption, and the internet did the rest. After all, what other opportunity would there be to watch the Na Jaemin skate outside of his discipline?

You’re happy that the show guaranteed to have a sold out audience and likely record breaking fundraising. It’s the whole reason why you both chose to participate in the first place, but you’d underestimated the pressure that came with it.

“You’ll finish your section with a spin,” Maci says as she walks you through the last of your solo steps. “And that is where Jaemin will come in.”

“Finally! I’m here!” Jaemin chimes in.

Both you and Sunghoon roll your eyes.

“Let’s see how many of the skills you remember,” you say as you catch your breath.

“I’ll tell the instructors to save a spot for you in Basic 1,” Sunghoon adds on. "You can learn how to skate with those new ice dance boots you bought."

Jaemin flips both of you off.

You step onto the bench while Sunghoon skates away to run through his third of the program.

You scroll through your phone as Sunghoon starts his routine. It’s not as if you don’t respect his skating; on the contrary, you never miss a performance. You just tune in for the big moments, which means that you don’t have to be as alert for these initial sessions.

While you’re nonchalant, Jaemin can’t tear his eyes away.

“If you told me ten years ago that he would be this graceful, I wouldn’t believe you,” the words fall out half under his breath.

You laugh. “Feed that line to the press.”

Jaemin’s eyes flit to yours. “You wouldn’t.”

You raise your hands into the air. “Kidding. I know exactly what you mean.”

From the beginning, Sunghoon had taken the most time to progress. All three of you had been considered advanced for your age group, but you and Jaemin had always been ahead of the curve.

Now, your friend was known for his focus on artistic elements; in many ways, you felt like he truly embodied the emotions of the characters he was portraying. You’d found that element of skating more difficult after your injury—you’d never been that good of an actor in the first place, and post-accident you didn’t find yourself that invested in pretending to be someone else.

“Do you ever regret not sticking with figure skating or ice dance?” You find yourself asking.

He shrugs. “Hard to say since we’ll never know my real potential. Although I did like the acting aspect of portraying a character.”

“So speed skating still has your heart,” you laugh. “Has it at least been worth diving back into it for a little bit? The theatrics of it all?”

Jaemin turns to you. He doesn’t smile at all, and his tone is dead serious. “It is. I wouldn’t trade this experience for the world.”

Your body hums in response from your heart down to your stomach. “Why’s that?”

He pauses. Then, without breaking eye contact, he smiles and leans in toward you. “What do you think?”

Jaemin smells faintly of oranges. Your head spins at the proximity. You can’t come up with something witty, even if you wanted to. “I–”

At the same time, Sunghoon loses his footing and falls to the ice with an oof. Both of your heads whip towards your friend, who rises and wipes the ice off of his clothes.

“You good?” You half-shout toward your friend.

He shoots you a thumbs up in response before continuing.

Jaemin gazes at you, but you’ve lost your nerve.

“It’s nice to be here with both of you again,” you say as you unlock your phone and sit back down. “It’s as if you never left.”

“Me too,” Jaemin says softly. “It’s just like old times.”

❅˚

It’s three weeks before the show. You rush to the rink alone this time to fit a makeup practice into your and Jaemin’s busy schedules. You groan internally knowing that it falls on your rest day, but the practice is needed. Between both of your training schedules, you had to take the free moments when they come.

You pick up coffees on the way. It’s the first time you’ve driven to practice by yourself in a week, and your nerves rise as you drive closer and closer.

There shouldn’t be anything to be nervous about. Sure, you and Jaemin still have parts of your routine to work on, but progress has been smooth up to this point.

You’re unable to shake off the feeling as you arrive thirty minutes early. You turn off your car and linger in the driver’s seat. You have two options: scroll on your phone in the car or head in early. The latter wouldn’t make sense under normal circumstances—if Jaemin wasn’t practicing.

You glance at the two drinks sitting in your cupholders. Surely there’s no harm in peeking?

You exit the car, both drinks in hand, before you can change your mind. You enter the rink with a sheepish energy, although you’re doing absolutely nothing wrong.

Jaemin’s alternating through basic circle skills. His coach watches at the sideline with a stopwatch in one hand and a phone recording the drill in its entirety from a stand.

More than the difficulty of speed skating itself, you can’t believe that Jaemin has been balancing it alongside the training for the gala. Not only are the skates completely different, but the main mechanics require raw power and endurance. Much different from the slower, technical precision of ice dance.

Despite no spins or jumps, he makes it look graceful. You make a mental note to attend his first competition. You could watch him skate forever, regardless of discipline.

Jaemin’s coach calls him in, reviewing the footage and giving feedback. His expression is neutral, and Jaemin merely nods and repeats the drill each time. It goes on that way until the end of his practice time.

You wave as Jaemin exits off the ice and down the ramp toward you. He blinks, and his steps stutter for a moment before he continues.

“Morning,” you avoid eye contact as you hold out his iced coffee. He hadn’t noticed you during his practice, but you feel shy nonetheless. “Got here a little early.”

“Oh,” Jaemin grimaces. “So you saw all that?”

“What do you mean?” You ask. “I thought you looked great.”

He scoffs. He focuses on something distant over your shoulder. “I don’t know if I would describe it as great.”

You’re at a loss for words. The scenario feels familiar—hell, you’d gotten this way during practice for your solo exhibition—but you don’t have enough technical knowledge of speed skating to immediately understand what happened. Beyond that, it’s rare to see Jaemin so quiet.

Your expression must be comically transparent, because you watch his eyes lock to yours and register your wide stare.

“Sorry, you just caught me at a weird practice,” he clears his throat. “I’ll be ready in fifteen?”

The gesture does little to settle you, but you manage your own uneasy smile. “Take your time. I’ll warm up.”

You’ve never been more grateful for the familiarity of center ice. You run through a quick warmup routine and even squeeze in a couple rough rehearsals of your solo routine for the show.

“Looks good,” Jaemin says as he finally steps onto the ice. “I almost feel bad to make you split your program in half.”

“You’re not making me do anything.” You frown. After everything the two of you have been through to get to this point, his sudden minimization makes you worry.

“Well, you know,” he says, alternating between the inner and outer edges of his blades in small swizzles.

“No, I don’t know,” you shake your head stubbornly. You glide in front of him without breaking eye contact. “I’m doing this because I want to. I want to skate with you.”

It’s the most forward you’ve been, but his expression doesn’t budge. Instead, he just nods. “Shall we?”

The two of you run through the routine a few times, but it’s as though the last few weeks have been for nothing. No matter how many times you restart or run through the counts slowly, the two of you struggle to sync. Rather—you know you’re hitting your movements, but Jaemin merely seems to be going through the motions.

When his hold on you wobbles on the ending pose, you snap yourself out of his arms and huff. “Okay, seriously. We’re done for today. Let’s go.”

Of all things, that seems to wake Jaemin from his daze. He skates after you. “Wait, I’m just off today—”

You ignore him, stepping off of the ice and into your skate guards. You briefly turn around to catch his eye.

Jaemin’s hovering on the ice by the door, watching you. His eyes plead.

You wave your arm towards you in a come here gesture. His face brightens, and he hurriedly follows after you.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out when he’s close to you.

You shake your head. “Wanna get lunch?”

-

You stare at each other from across the table.

“You first,” you point to Jaemin’s burger, which has arrived at your table first. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m excited to eat, but,” Jaemin crosses his arms. “Do you have to stare at me?”

You say nothing even as the server brings your own food over.

Jaemin sighs but starts eating nonetheless. “Happy?”

“Yes,” you say as you pick at your fries.

“If this is a way to make sure I’m eating, I don’t have issues with dieting while competing,” he mutters between bites. “Luckily.”

“Trust me, it’s not about that,” you laugh. “I know you can eat.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So then…?”

“You were just super out of it today,” you shrug. “You’ve been training pretty intensely this week, right?”

He frowns. “I have, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Compared to the work schedule I was doing before coming back to skating, it’s more or less the same.”

You point a fry at him accusingly. “There. That’s the issue.”

“That I work?”

“That you’re not taking time to not work.”

“No offense,” the words come out slowly, “but aren’t you, like, famously known for never taking breaks?”

You shake your head. “That was pre-injury me. Current me takes breaks. I have hobbies.”

“I have hobbies,” he insists.

“That you’ve invested in recently?” You ask. "Actively?"

He hesitates. “So what, burger eating is supposed to be my next hobby? I don’t struggle with diets, but that one might be hard.”

“Ha ha,” you say flatly. “I just wanted to get you away from training. You love burgers.”

Jaemin looks down at his burger, as if the sandwich itself has betrayed him. “I do,” he sighs. “You don’t need to baby me. I’m a grown man.”

“I know,” you say, looking away. “I just wanted to get your mind off of everything. You’re doing a lot.”

A small silence stretches between you. You can feel Jaemin’s gaze probing over your side profile, but you pretend to look around the restaurant.

“Do you still like bingsu?”

“I–” Jaemin’s smile is bright as day, and, more importantly, it’s genuine. You relax“I do.”

“Wanna go to the cafe near Sunghoon’s place?”

You exhale a relieved breath. “That sounds amazing.”

❅˚

“Quick break?” Jaemin pants after a full run through of your routine.

You simply nod, trying to catch your own breath. The two of you skate to the side without a word.

You pull out your phone. Mei’s sent you three images over text with a short question—Received all the photos for promo. You sure you’re okay with the team using these?

As a part of promotional material for the ice show, all three of you—Sunghoon, Jaemin, and yourself—had submitted throwback pictures to be posted by the official account.

Your picture depicted five-year-old you at your very first skating lesson—pink puffer and helmet in full display. It’s one of your favorites.

Sunghoon’s picture, to your surprise, has both of you in it. It must be from middle school, since you’re dressed in costuming from your first and final pairs competition together.

“What the hell?” Your jaw drops as you inspect the image. Jaemin glances over your shoulder, and you turn your phone to show him. “This is the last thing I would’ve expected him to send. I don’t think I even have any pictures of us from that era.”

Jaemin laughs. “Maybe since they asked Sunghoon for something from middle school? He was complaining about it. They asked me for elementary school pictures, so I had it easy.”

Sure enough, the last picture shows the three of you after a group private lesson together. Jaemin’s in the center smiling wide and bright. Sunghoon’s smile is reserved and slightly awkward to Jaemin’s right. You, on the opposite side, cling to Jaemin’s side in a big hug with an even bigger smile.

There it is. A wave of shyness. “I don’t think I have this one either.”

“It’s my favorite.”

“It feels like forever ago.” Your throat constricts as you speak.

“It’s certainly been a long time since then,” Jaemin says. His eyes are glued to the picture of the three of you. His lips soften into a smile.

“I can’t believe Sunghoon and I thought we could be partners,” you cough and wrinkle your nose. “I don’t think his arm strength would’ve kept up. And we would’ve killed each other.”

It’s as if Jaemin doesn’t hear you. “Do you wanna hear something funny?”

“Does it involve that one time Sunghoon dropped me on the ice, your mom took me to urgent care, and then that incident single-handedly made me quit pairs?”

“No, but that’s good.” Jaemin’s smile still floats on his face with a hint of mischievousness, like he’s keeping a secret.

“What is it, then?”

“I used to be so jealous of Sunghoon,” he laughs. “And look at us now, practicing the choreography for an exhibition performance as partners.”

Your mind goes blank. “Jealous? Why?”

He seems to snap out of his reverie at your question, expression growing a little shy. He shrugs “Well, you know.”

“Um, no, I don’t know.”

“Well, childhood crushes and all that,” he says quickly. He queues up the music on his phone. “So jealous over random things. Anyway, ready to practice the second half?”

He skates away to put his phone down on the ledge and start the music before you can respond. What he hasn’t calculated is that he will need to skate right back to you to practice the step sequence. Two can play at this game.

“Funny you say that,” you mutter as he takes your hand. “Considering my childhood self would’ve killed to be paired with you.”

He swallows thickly. You can tell he’s trying to tune into the music, but his steps are half a beat off. “Meaning?”

You’re not going to make it that easy for him. “Same thing that you meant.”

The step sequence is naturally push-and-pull as Jaemin leads you through each stroke and turn, but today it feels like something more: a balance of power.

“We were partners before,” he murmurs before his hands anchor on your hips to guide you into a synchronized spin.

“Briefly,” you say once you complete it. “But I was devastated when you quit altogether. I would’ve done anything to keep skating with you.”

You maintain eye contact through the remainder of this practice. There’s a charged feeling in every movement, every touch. Even when the steps call for distance, you feel the inevitable pull to come back together. In fact, it never feels close enough.

The two of you slide into a stop at the end of your choreography, but you keep staring at each other long after the song has ended. Jaemin’s brown eyes roam your features hungrily, until his gaze settles on your lips.

Jaemin's going to kiss you.

Time slows. The rink lights overhead make your eyes water, and your mind resurfaces into a complete blank. There's not much choice otherwise—not with his lips nearing yours.

You close your eyes, trembling from your head to your blades as your heart rattles against your ribcage.

Lips graze against your cheek. Gentle hands drift onto your cheeks after.

Your eyelids flutter open. Jaemin's face hovers in front of yours. His features flush in a soft pink, but his eyes seem to droop. The corners of his lips quiver up in a sad half-smile.

"Not now," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Sorry."

You come to your senses as he skates away, blinking around at your surroundings, as if you've woken up from a long sleep.

No words are exchanged as you both grab your things and exit. It's hardly mumbles of goodbye before going your separate ways.

You slam the car door closed and exist in the silence.

Although it just occurred, you're already winding back the events and weighing what could've been done differently.

You should've demanded answers; pushed him away and left in a storm. Or, maybe, you should've done the opposite—allowed all of your real emotions to sweep and pull at your face.

In actuality, you have no real confidence in the efficacy of either. You just hate the way it ended: neutral, as if you're two strangers rather than friends pushing at something more—not that you had the faintest idea of what. Just…something.

Even later that night, the exact details blur together, feeling more like a hallucination more than a memory. Had you made it up in your head? No, Jaemin was definitely flirting with you. Again. But Jaemin flirted with everyone—well, no, it does feel different when Jaemin flirts with you. Tender.

The moment replays over and over again, trapped within your thoughts. You try to sleep, but your mind is too busy fixing itself on the minute details: how his hands felt around you, the soft brush of Jaemin's lips against your skin.

All of your previous confidence feels like it evaporated from your body. All that filled your mind at the time was the near-aching urge to unleash your pent-up feelings. There had been absolutely no regard for the meaning afterwards, not that it mattered—he pulled away anyway. A wisp of a rejection.

If it happened, would it have even meant anything? You muse to yourself as you trace the lines of your ceiling. It could totally have just been harmless flirting.

For yourself, you know there's only one answer. You're well beyond dismissing your behavior with Jaemin as remnants of an old crush. Still, you wonder when they turned into more, as you can't pinpoint when they intensified. It's as if these new feelings could consume the old ones in their entirety.

You wonder if this newfound hunger will ever be satiated. This is more time than you could've imagined spending with Na Jaemin, but it never feels like enough.

You wonder if Jaemin is thinking of you half as much as you're thinking of him right now.

The thought barely fades when, like a sick, cosmic joke, your phone vibrates on your nightstand. Na Jaemin flashes on the screen.

You lunge for it and straighten your posture, clearing your throat and sliding a finger across the screen to answer. "Hey. What's up?"

"Hey," Jaemin says. "Did you see the group chat? What do you think?"

"Uh, no. I didn't see it," you admit. "What's up?"

"Coach Brown's wife asked if we want to visit him. Since he was cleared to finish his recovery at home."

"Oh—yeah, of course." The words come out rushed. It's as if you're speaking with a mouth filled with cotton balls. "I'm down."

"Cool."

"Are…are we all going?" You ask, then immediately regret it.

"Yes, of course." A pause. "I can take you tomorrow. Since we'll be going after the team meeting."

"Team meeting—?" Ah. The meeting with Mei and Jeff. "Right—yeah, we can carpool. If you don't mind."

"I don't," he says. "I'll pick you up at 1:30?"

"Sounds good."

"About today," Jaemin blurts out. "I'm sorry."

You slouch and close your eyes. "Sorry for what exactly, Jaem?"

"Well—we almost—you know." It's the most you've ever heard him stumble over his words. You would kill to see what flustered looks like brushed over his face. "Right?"

"So you're sorry that we almost kissed." The words flatten as you speak.

"God—can we talk? After our meeting? Or after we visit Coach Brown?"

Stress laces through his tone. Your heart sinks. "Of course."

Jaemin waits for a beat, but you refuse to give in. You don't want to have this conversation over the phone either, and he already offered.

"Good night, Jaemin," you offer.

"…Good night," he murmurs. "Sleep well."

You toss your phone back on the nightstand and cover yourself with the blankets. After that, you're in for the most restless sleep of your life.

"Last alignment meeting," Jaemin says on the way in. "Ready to do this thing?"

You force a smile. Not only are you reeling after a grand total of four hours of sleep, but the car ride over had been little more than dull niceties. "Something along those lines."

He frowns, but you pick up your pace and barrel inside.

Jaemin ends up drifting towards Jeff, although he looks over his shoulder at you.

You shrug and sit at the other end of the table, waiting for Mei to arrive.

Jaemin and Jeff huddle at the front of the table, gesturing and whispering among themselves. They only snap to attention when Mei strides in and shuts the door closed with extra force.

"Good afternoon," Jeff greets with his usual professionalism.

Mei and Jeff jump into reviewing the analytics from the last month. It lives up to your expectations; ever since the ice show announcements and promos ran, it was like someone hit a switch. You—according to sources, since you still avoided social media like the plague—were showing up less in search inquiries. If you were, then content leaned more supportive.

Still, looking at the cold hard numbers, it's clear that Jaemin's growth is unstoppable. Your followers grew by nearly triple, sure, but his total follower count still runs laps around yours.

"I think fans are just grateful to see you so active," Mei explains.

You steal a glance at Jaemin. His face gives away nothing. He looks like a statue, his expression carved in fierce stoicism.

By all metrics, both of your social media profiles look healthier than ever. Buzz has calmed down, and, by some miracle, your "relationship" appears to be accepted by the general public.

"In my opinion—we'll wrap with the ice show, both parties can post the photos from the event, and I think the performance will speak for itself!" For someone so corporate, Jeff looks downright giddy.

You and Mei meet his enthusiasm with tempered applause. Jaemin doesn't even look up.

"Well, there is one matter we should discuss, now that we're at the tail end of things." Jeff's voice turns into the poised tone you're familiar with. "When to announce the breakup."

It shouldn't have this much of an effect on you—it's a fake relationship, after all!—but your body stiffens on its own. You cross your arms over your chest.

You expect Jeff to defer to Mei, but he clears his throat to continue.

"A development that we will not be officially announcing anytime soon…Jaemin is planning on moving back to his old rink."

Your eyes snap to Jaemin. He's already looking at you, assessing your every minute reaction.

"His current coach divulged that he's moving up his retirement timeline. Jaemin's going to add his new coach onto his official team as support for now, then he'll make the hard switch next season."

The same sad glimmer from yesterday shines in his eyes. You understand in an instant—he knew it, even then.

"We're thinking, to leverage the speed skating season, we'll have Jaemin withdraw significantly from posting on social media. That way, breakup rumors and potential fallout can be addressed outside of the season for both sports."

"So no official announcement," Mei muses. "Just a fizzle out."

Jeff nods. "Just a fizzle."

"We'll discuss." Mei glances at you in the corner of her eye, so quick you almost miss it. "For now, we'll just aim to keep social media normal following the show."

You don't want to discuss it. You want to eject yourself from this meeting and dash under the covers, but today is not an option. Not when you, Jaemin, and Sunghoon have a scheduled visit with Coach Brown.

"Ready?" Jaemin asks after the meeting wraps.

You nod without a word and follow him to his car.

"I know you're mad," Jaemin rushes through his words right when your door closes. "Let me explain."

"No need," you say while pulling the seatbelt tight across your torso. "I think Jeff gave us the appropriate context. You're switching coaches, so you already decided to leave."

He runs a hand through his hair. "It's really not my choice. I didn't expect this at all."

You shrug. "Things happen."

Jaemin glances at you, but you train your gaze ahead. "Are you mad because—"

You cut him off. "This isn't a guessing game. It's either you have something to say, or you say nothing."

Jaemin's temper is rarely put to the test, but today you come very close: clenched jaw, sharp brows.

"You know what?" He says. "We'll just talk after we see Coach Brown."

"Fine by me."

Jaemin starts the ignition and snaps the gears into reverse. As both of you have decided there's nothing to say, you spend the entire car ride in pointed silence.

"It's so sweet of you kids to come out here and visit him," Mrs. Brown leaves a bowl of fruit on the center of the table. Not even thirty seconds later, she's back with pretzels. Thirty seconds after that, cookies.

"That's all right, Cynthia," Coach Brown chuckles. "You're going to scare the poor things off."

You, Jaemin, and Sunghoon sit shoulder-to-shoulder on the coach with small smiles. Sunghoon, with his endless generosity, insisted that Jaemin sit in the middle. You initially wanted to strangle Sunghoon, but you also can't help but be hyperaware of Jaemin's muscles pressing into your own.

Despite the current weirdness between two-thirds of you, this was something that didn't need to be discussed at all. Although, sitting here, you and Sunghoon fiddle with your hands and squirm a little in the heavy atmosphere. In situations like this, it's difficult to know the right things to say.

Jaemin leans forward, stands up, and shuffles over to Coach Brown's bedside. "You gotta look at this, coach," he laughs.

While you and Sunghoon sit glued to the couch, the whispers of what you want to say lodged firmly in your throats, Jaemin chatters on like it's just another day.

You feel a flash of pride. Then hurt.

How was it so easy for him to go about and act as though nothing affected him?

You shake the thoughts from your head. This isn't about you.

The three of you relax more through the visit, although Mrs. Brown gently cuts it short to allow Coach Brown to rest.

You all wave goodbye and promise to come again, then you're standing in the parking lot, hovering by your cars.

You're about to ask Sunghoon to drive you when he speaks first. "Jaemin, you can take her back, right? I have something else after this that I already committed to."

The bastard is lying; you know for a fact he's playing nothing but video games tonight. He meets your eyes and grins.

Your welcome, he mouths, none the wiser.

You roll your eyes.

"Yeah, I was going to take her anyway," Jaemin says, shooting you a suspicious side glance.

The two of you say bye to Sunghoon and step back into Jaemin's car. Instead of saying anything, he turns the music up until the bass reverberates the entire car. You spend the drive listening to bass boosted music and wonder if he's lost his mind. Still, you tolerate it—until he takes a couple wrong turns.

"What the hell are you doing?" You try to shout, but the music drowns out your words.

He doesn't even glance at you. You realize, scanning the horizon, that he's driving you to the park nearest to your house. Jaemin pulls into a spot, turning to you when he turns off the engine.

"Want to go on a walk and talk?"

You've often driven past your local park on weekends, swarming with families and soccer games, but today, on a random weekend evening, it's peaceful. The sunset just barely kisses the horizon, blending shades of orange and pink across the sky.

Jaemin walks at your side in shorts and a gray sweatshirt. His hoodie's pulled up, and you're wearing one of his baseball caps over your head.

You walk side-by-side for a while, kicking rocks down the pavement.

After a while, he finally speaks first. "I'm sorry for not telling you directly about the move."

You stiffen. Your legs are still in motion, but your movements feel robotic. Yeah, you'd wanted him to figure it out on his own, but you weren't expecting him to actually know so fast.

Your surprise must show, because Jaemin then clicks his tongue and exhales. "Whew. That must've really pissed you off, if you're that surprised that I got it right."

You find your voice. "Yeah. I didn't love hearing about it through your team. Again."

He winces. "I know. I told him not to mention it, but he kinda went a little rogue there."

"No." You shake your head. "It's not just that aspect of it."

Confusion. "Then…?"

You shrug and throw your arms up. "I wish you told me yourself, Jaemin. No team. Not because you need to tell me in the name of the contract. I wanted you to tell me, face to face, friend to friend."

His jaw drops. "I—"

"I thought we've grown since the start." You hate how your voice trembles. "You knew how upset I was when this started, but you went ahead and did the same exact thing. No mention of these deliberations, even when I see you every day. It's like I mean nothing—"

A shadow crosses his face. "Don't finish that sentence," he snaps.

The two of you are stopped in the furthermost part of the path by a cluster of trees, hidden in the corner from the rest of the park-goers.

You poke a finger into his chest with each word. "I. Mean. Nothing. To—"

It all happens in one swift motion. Jaemin grabs your wrist before you can poke him again, then he tugs you wholly into his chest. His eyes flash before he crashes his lips onto yours.

Your first kiss with Jaemin is the opposite of your near-kiss; from the beginning, you collide, rough and wild, pushing against the other.

This is what you missed out on; it could've just been like this at the rink, too. The realization fuels another flash of irritation paired with a slight thrill. Kissing Jaemin gives you the same rush as competing. Pure adrenaline and dopamine override your senses.

All you can think about is his lips on yours. From the way he pulls you close, hands firmly placed on your back and hips, you know he's equally as lost.

More, you think. The urge completes the thought you've pushed back for months: regardless of the extensive time you've spent together, it will never feel like enough. Down to the level of comfort, the silent understanding, and now the physicality—in this moment, you never want to let Jaemin go.

Probing, you swipe your tongue across his lower lip. He hesitates, easing the pace into slow rhythms. It's not an outright denial—you try again, this time lightly nibbling.

"Alright," he pulls away and presses his forehead to yours as you both catch your breath. "That's enough."

"You started it," you huff with a laugh.

He laughs, then scans around your surroundings. It's not the smartest thing, but there's no one around now, at least.

You lean back in, but he shakes his head. "Can we just…talk?"

He sits down on the closest bench and gestures next to him. You follow.

"I'm sorry for not telling you. It was true though—I wanted you to hear it from me."

You bite your lip. "I believe you."

"I'm sorry for…doing that, too. Just now," he adds.

The relief evaporates immediately. "And you're sorry about…what, exactly?" You ask coolly.

He pales. "I—"

"No more beating around the bush, or going through our teams," you say. "Just tell me what you're thinking please. I think I deserve the truth."

Jaemin thinks for a minute, then grins. "I have feelings for you."

"Jesus, Jaem—" Your whole body feels like it's burning up and smoking into the evening sky.

"What?" He shrugs. "I wanted to just get that out in the open, before you start getting ideas that you don't mean anything to me."

He gives you a pointed look. You stick your tongue out at him.

"I'll say that too. You mean a lot to me."

"I get it," you grumble. His charm has completely disarmed you. "You mean a lot to me too."

His smile shines bright and blinding, even against dusk. "I'll be here for this season before moving, then I'll be three hours away. I still want to give us a try. We can try to make it work even through our schedules."

Even through the warmth of his confession, a cold dose of reality hits you when reminded of your own impending training. "Jaemin…that might get a little crazy, don't you think? Training schedules are one thing, but competition and travel are another."

"I want to go to your competitions," he declares. "At least a good amount of them. I want people to see me supporting you."

You should be happy—after all, Jaemin's discarding his notorious privacy—but the thought of the general public remaining permanent witnesses to your private life makes your stomach coil. Your mind leaps to the worst possibility—what if you flopped next season? Would you retire, disgraced? Would they talk about you online—Na Jaemin's girlfriend, a washed-up skater anchored to him by memories?

"Even if your girlfriend doesn't reach the same legend status?" You ask with a bitter smile.

Jaemin deflates. "You've had a great career."

There it is: had.

You sigh. "Can I think about it?"

"Why?" He demands.

"I just—I want to think about it Jaemin, jeez! One day you don't want to kiss me, the next day you're kissing me and telling me that you want to be together—it's a lot."

"You wanted me to be open and honest," he says quietly. "So I'm leaving it all out there."

He's right. You're being a massive hypocrite, and he's presenting everything that you've wanted right there.

Even with the perfect man offering you everything, you can't shake the rotten doubt that it's too good to be true. You'll ruin what you have, just like you've ruined everything else.

"I mean, I've said it before, but I still think that my image benefited from this arrangement more than yours."

"Come on," he says, hugging you from behind. "You know I don't care about that stuff. "

"I know." You lean back into his chest. It's almost easier to speak openly when you're not looking directly at him. "It's just…when I think about it—really try to think about it—I don't know how everything's supposed to fit together. Once we both go back to training full-time."

His hug on you loosens a little, although you feel his shoulders tighten. "Like…you don't know where I fit into your life after this?"

"No," you respond, then hesitate. "It's like…"

That was the thing—for all of the time you'd spent out of the other's orbit, it was now hard to picture your life without Jaemin's presence. You could see the possibilities laid out clearly: going to his competitions or watching them online if you were out of town. Calling him before your events to calm your nerves, then calling him again after to debrief.

Undoubtedly, Jaemin brought the levity into your life that had been missing for years. But when you tried to conjure your role in his life, your mind drew a big, looming blank.

"I just don't know how I'm going to fit in your life, Jaem," you admit, your voice low and quiet. "We're so different. You're a success that's able to just climb and climb, and I've been struggling for the past five years. I don't know if I belong in your world."

His voice drops. "It's the same world."

"You know I don't mean literally." You untangle your limbs and turn to face him.

Jaemin's lips tighten into a straight line that's neither a smile nor a frown. There's the slightest crease bending between his eyebrows.

Your chest constricts at the sight, and you struggle to breathe. More than the sadness pooling in his features, there's something worse under the surface: disappointment.

You open and close your mouth, forgetting your words, but Jaemin speaks first.

"Do you know you have a tell when you jump?" He says.

"I—excuse me?"

"It has nothing to do with your speed, or even your technique right as you load into it," his eyes turn fiery. "I can tell if you're going to land it based on your expression alone. When you're about to land it, you get this cute, determined scrunch across your whole face. When you're about to pop it or mess up the landing, you get this scared look in your eyes. Like you're about to cry, even before you take off."

"So what?" You manage to choke up. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're giving me the same face right now, babe." Jaemin looks tired. "You look like you don't believe in this at all."

"I just need time."

"Then you can have it."

Silence stretches and expands between you. You hate this. You want to grab his hand and tell him that everything is going to be okay, but you can't make promises that you're not sure you can keep. You're hurting both of you in the process, but you can't stop.

"I just need time," you repeat, a broken record. "After the show?"

"Okay. We'll talk about it then." You see it cross his face again. Disappointment, disappointment, disappointment. "Let me take you home."

You finish the final touches of your makeup. You take a deep breath.

You're wearing the same dress from your Nationals free program. The ice blue fabric clings to your torso before flowing down your legs in sweeping waves.

You'd selected this dress for the show shortly after Nationals concluded—it was one of your favorites, and you hadn't been in the mindset to pursue a new look on a tight timeline, anyway—but you feel a brief flash of regret.

Dressed like this, it's impossible to not think about the last time you wore this dress. What started as yet another sad stamp in your fractured career pivoted to so much more. Your near-catastrophic failure of a program turned comeback, followed by the return of Jaemin into your personal life.

You pick up your phone, thinking to text Jaemin your revelation, only to remember and put it back down again. You'd left for the rink without checking whether he'd extend an offer to carpool or, at minimum, reach out at all to clear the air. He didn't—now, your first time seeing him today would be within the next thirty minutes, right before your show together.

A deep urge digs at your gut. You want to march right into the room you're mostly sure Jaemin's getting ready in with Sunghoon, drag him out, and demand answers. That, despite everything, he hasn't given up on you.

It's just an instinct. You lean back in your chair and close your eyes. A deep breath.

As you are choosing to handle this maturely (which rules out marching into his dressing room), you brace yourself for what's bound to be your first encounter: your off-ice warm up.

You've shown up ten minutes early. You're cycling through your second round of dynamic movements—light jogs, lunges, leg swings—until the remaining skaters begin to turn the corner.

You hear the slight lapse in chatter, but you ignore it. You're only looking for one face in the crowd.

A hand grabs your bicep. Sunghoon. "Hey, what's going on?" He hisses low into your ear. "Jaemin's pissed."

You swallow. "How pissed?"

"Pissed." His eyes narrow. "You don't seem surprised."

"Well, I…" A familiar figure rises in your peripheral. You free yourself from Sunghoon's grip. "I'm handling it. Promise."

Worry crosses his face. "Is that…good timing right now? Right before everything?"

Your confidence droops a little, but you push through it. "The timing is shit, but it has to be now."

Sunghoon releases your arm. You step forward toward the corner of the space, where Jaemin warms up with a small group of skaters.

He's wearing full-length black trousers that elongate his legs. His long-sleeved top echoes yours in shades of white blending into ice blue. A perfect pair.

You haven't seen him in days. It's like observing him through the lens of a stranger as he enraptures the attention of all around him with endless charm.

For the first time, it occurs to you; if you truly step away, this could be your new reality. Rooting for him from a distance rather than working through each struggle together. Polite yet restrained smiles of acknowledgement that refuse to reopen old wounds. The thought makes you ache.

You know it, then. You can't bear the thought of becoming strangers to one another again. As much as it stings to face your fears, the possibility of losing Jaemin hurts you more.

Rationally, you know that you can only blame yourself for this current situation—after all, it was your insecurities that had pushed him away.

Time after time, Jaemin had proven his genuine feelings and intentions toward you. This time, it was your duty to do the same.

Despite your reassurance to Sunghoon, you're scared to confront him. You're scared, but you push through anyway. You know, deep down, that going on the ice with Jaemin without addressing anything first will crack something deep in your foundation. You don't know how he'll react, and you don't want to find out.

"Hi," you breathe out from a slight distance.

Jaemin steps away from the group. His expression controls itself in an even neutrality, but he scans over your costume and over the details of your makeup.

"Hi," he responds.

A pause. There's a million things you want to say—what you know you should say, but you have no idea where to start.

"Are you ready?" You ask weakly.

"Yes." Then, he adds. "You don't need to worry. We'll give them a good show."

A good show. They're innocent words by themselves, but the accompanied tone leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Performance," you can't help but correct. "We'll give them a good genuine performance."

He raises an eyebrow. "Is that not what I just said?"

He's messing with you. The cold shoulder sends hot desperation down your spine.

"Please don't be like this," you plead with him. "Can we just talk?"

"We are talking." He doesn't even look up at you.

"Come on, Jaemin. You know what I mean."

He leans down to retie the laces on his skate. He pulls so tight that the fibers creak against the boot. "I have been talking to you. Ever since we crossed paths again—I think I've been more than clear about where I stand. You're the one that needs more time."

"I don't need any more time." You admit. Your throat is raw. "I don't."

He stops.

This is it, you think.

Except, it's the opposite. Jaemin finishes lacing up his skates in a flash of panic and darts away.

"Jaemin," you call after him. You double back, grabbing your bag before taking off after him.

He weaves past the other skaters, who look at the pair of you with either curiosity or confusion. You're sure that some sort of account of this will end up on some sort of gossip blog or forum later on.

It's not hard to catch up to Jaemin, given that he's hobbling on top of blades covered by blocky skate guards. You end up cornering him in his own dressing room.

"Are you done?" You ask, exasperated. "We don't have time for this. I'm on in fifteen, then you're on with me right after."

"Yeah," he mutters, eyes darting around the room to and fro. "Let's not do this now. Let's wait."

"No way." You're blocking the door now. "God, just—listen to me, Jaem."

Realization dawns on his face, and an uneasy smile stretches completely across his features. "I'm listening."

"Thank you," you cough. Your face feels hot enough to melt ice. "I messed up yesterday."

He nods and waits for you to continue.

"Ever since you came back into my life, it's just felt like everything spiraled out of my control. Having you back and supporting me wholeheartedly while I've been struggling for so many years…" You frown while trying to find the words. "I guess I didn't believe it. I didn't feel like me or any of the work I've done for the past few years was worth that sort of blind optimism."

"It's not blind," he offers.

You ignore him. "You're perfect in, like, everything you do. I had you up on this crazy high pedestal, and I thought I would never be able to actually meet you there."

You look at Jaemin. His gaze is soft.

"You show everyone the best sides of you, but I want to see all of it. Whether you're excited or irritated at how training went, if you're annoyed at your fanbase." You draw in a breath. "I want to see all of you. I want to be with you, after this. Away from the cameras, and just for us."

Jaemin's eyes roam over your face. Then, he exhales loudly and hangs his head on top of his thighs. His shoulders shake as he laughs to himself. "Good god…"

Everything burns. "What?"

He rises to his feet and stands above you. His hands cradle your chin, their touch cool yet gentle. "I shouldn't have lost my temper at you. I'm sorry."

Your throat is dry. "Then…?"

"I got carried away even letting myself think that an idea of us would be possible." Jaemin admits. "I wasn't thinking enough about how you felt."

You nod your head wordlessly, transfixed by his words.

"You don't give yourself enough credit. Your work ethic, your charisma…you don't have to prove anything to anyone." He pauses. "It's not like anyone's perception of us will change, since I guess we're already publicly dating, but I'm ready to love you out loud. Whenever you're ready."

"Love."Your head spins. "Jaemin—"

"Jaemin, you don't know that you love me. Wrong." he anticipates your words with a shit-eating grin. His thumbs caress your cheeks. "I didn't realize it at the time because I'm such a dumbass, but I think I've loved you my whole life."

You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks, which slightly overlaps with his hands lining the sides of your face. "You have?"

"Yup." He takes one of your hands in his and presses a soft kiss to your skin. "No pressure to say it back, though. Take your time."

You don't need time; you've always known it deep down. Regardless of location, age, or circumstances, Jaemin's always reserved a space within your heart.

"One minute," you murmur, reaching for your bag. A pink bunny plushie slides out, and you hand it into the hands of the original gift-giver.

"Mr. Hops?" Jaemin tilts his head.

"I don't compete without him," you lower your gaze shyly. "So I guess you'll be in charge of making sure I have it at competitions."

Jaemin hugs him tight. "I—"

"What I'm trying to say is," you take a step towards him. "I love you too."

Jaemin closes the gap between you. The kiss carries all of your conflicting emotions and promises that you're still a little scared to say out loud. All you know for sure are two things: first, you love Jaemin, and second, to love Jaemin, you're determined to be more comfortable with the unknown.

"Jaemin, I've been knocking, you're on—" Sunghoon lingers in the threshold, jaw dropped. "What the hell?"

The room falls into wide stares. You jump away with your arms raised in surrender, Jaemin squeezes Mr. Hops to his chest, and Sunghoon points a silent, accusatory finger around the room.

"I've been looking for you, Jaemin," his finger moves to you. "You're on in like, five minutes." Finally, it lands at Jaemin's arms. "Why is Mr. Hops here?"

"We can explain," you blurt out.

Sunghoon glares at you. "You're going to explain, you dirty liar. After. You guys have to get your asses out there first."

The corners of Jaemin's eyes crinkle as he looks at you. You feel a warm swell of affection in your chest.

There's so much more you want to say to him, but the show must go on. For now, you press a quick peck to his lips and interlace your fingers together. "Ready?"

Jaemin's smile is so wide that it looks like he might explode with happiness. "For you? Anytime."

Sunghoon fake gags but holds the door open for you.

You hold hands the entire way to the ice. The crowd loses it. You faintly perceive the screams and camera flashes, but all you focus on is the feeling of Jaemin's hand in yours.

The air in Dr. Na's office was always the same: cold, smelling faintly of unsettling antiseptic and the subtle lavender from his oil burner at the corner of his desk.

It was a scent you’d come to associate with a specific kind of hope, one that always sent into a familiar, quiet despair.

You sat on the examination table for the third time in a month, the crinkly paper bunching under your thighs, your hands clenched in your lap, explaining it all over again.

“It’s just…uncomfortable,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on the diplomas lining his wall. “A constant pressure. A kind of…ache. I lay in bed and it’s all I can think about and I can't seem to do anything to stop it. Sometimes it gets so…much, I cry.” A traitorous tear escaped, tracing a hot path down your cheek. You swiped at it angrily but it was followed by many other salted drops, hating your own body.

Dr. Na shifted on his stool, his expression one of profound, gentle concern. “Oh sweetheart...” he murmured, his voice dropping into that soft, melodic register he used, soothing and cloyingly sweet. “We’ve tried the pelvic floor exercises, the vitamin regimen, the anti-inflammatory diet… and still my sweet girl is suffering.” He leaned forward, his handsome face a mask of empathetic frustration. “It just breaks my heart.”

You nodded, sniffling.

His kindness was both a balm and an agony to your soul.

He was so good, so patient, while you were just a broken thing he couldn’t fix.

You felt a confusing flush of warmth at his attention, quickly followed by shame.

He was silent for a long moment, tapping his pen against his chin. Then he blinked, as if a thought of startling clarity had just struck him. He let out a soft, almost laugh-like sigh. “I think...I’ve been approaching this all wrong.” he said, more to himself than to you.

His eyes, dark and suddenly intensely focused, lifted to yours.

“Sweetheart, I need to ask you something very personal. It’s important, okay? Can you be brave for me?”

You nodded enthusiastically, willing to please but with a tight throat.

“Has anyone ever…touched you before? Down there?”

You stared. Your mind blank. Touched? Like during an exam? “You… you touch me there…” you said, confused.

A small, patient smile played on his lips. “No, my darling. Not like a doctor. I mean… for pleasure. Has anyone ever pleased you? Or have you ever… pleased yourself?”

The words hung in the sterile air, making no sense.

Pleasure? That area was for discomfort, for problems, for doctor’s visits. Not pleasure. Your face must have shown your utter bewilderment.

He sighed, a sound of fond exasperation. “Let me be perfectly clear, sweetheart. Have you ever masturbated? Has a boy ever… fingered you?”

The clinical terms clashed in your head. You knew the words, of course, but in the abstract, distant way you knew about things that happened to other, different kinds of people. Not to you.

Your conservative upbringing had drawn an impermeable border around your body: it was not for your own curiosity, certainly not for pleasure.

It was a vessel for future duty, currently a source of malfunction.

You shook your head slowly. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”

A slow, brilliant smile spread across Dr. Na’s face. It was a smile of pure, triumphant discovery. “Oh, you precious thing,” he cooed, his voice dripping with a new, possessive warmth. “I understand now. I finally know what’s wrong with you, and I know exactly how to fix it...”

Your heart stammered. Fix it? Hope, fragile and desperate, fluttered in your chest. “Ohh, you do?!”

“I do,” he said, standing up. He moved to the door and turned the lock with a soft but definitive click.

He washed his hands meticulously at the sink, the water running and his back to you, defined muscles tight and covered by the white coat that seemed to hypnotize you with his every move. Each dip and curve looked as if it had been carved to his body by a divinity.

“We just need one last, very special examination. It’s a bit… unconventional. But you trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You did. He was your doctor and he was so nice, he would never do anything wrong. “Yes...”

“Good girl.” He turned, drying his hands, his eyes gliding over you in a way that made your skin prickle, a strange heat pooling low in your belly, the very discomfort you’d complained about, but now it was…shifting. “Just lie back for me. Slide down to the edge of the table and put your feet in the stirrups. That’s my girl...”

You obeyed, the pose familiar yet suddenly charged with an unnamed tension.

His eyes, now cold and hungry analyzed your barely covered figure, the thin paper gown doing nothing to conceal your hardened nipples or the way your hip bones protrude.

Long fingers mindfully folding the white coat and shirt up all the way to his veiny forearms. Your eyes are on him, he knows it. An arrogant smirk forming into his soft features.

He sat on a rolling stool between your legs, now out of frame.

His hands were warm as they glided up your inner thighs, pushing the gown higher. You flinched at the contact.

“Shhh,” he soothed, baby voice wrapping around you. “It’s just me...you’re safe.” He snapped on a glove, the sound stark in the quiet room. “I need you to relax. This will only work if you relax for me. Can you do that, princess?”

You took a shaky breath and nodded, closing your eyes.

He hummed, a low, thoughtful sound in his throat. “So much tension...” he murmured, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to the apex of your thighs. “You’re all wound up so tight here, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched as his touch became slower, purposeful, exploring not for pathology but for something else. A fingertip circled a spot you didn’t know existed, and you jolted, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat.

That feeling wasn't the usual clinical discomfort, it was something else.

And that something made you feel alive.

“There it is,” he whispered, his voice losing some of its sugary tone, gaining an intimate depth. “That’s the source of all your tension, my poor little thing. Just a little bundle of nerves, all locked up and lonely.” His finger pressed again, a little firmer, and a bolt of pure, shocking sensation shot through you. You cried out, your back arching off the table.

“See?” he murmured, his other hand coming to rest on your trembling abdomen, holding you down. “Your body knows...it’s been begging for this. All that discomfort…it was just frustration.” His finger began a slow, torturous rhythm, circling, stroking.

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” he soothed, his fingers finding their new target, tracing the slick, heated folds.

Fingers pulling apart your major lips, trapping your clit along with your minor lips between his index and middle finger, digits caressing up and down with extra pressure that gets arousal gathering at your rim. “Your little pussy has never been touched like this, has it? Never know what it’s for." A shameless sigh followed by... "Fuck sweetheart, you're so wet...”

The crude words coming from his professional lips were a shock to you. But the shock was drowned out by the wave of sensation that followed as his thumb brushed again over the tiny, throbbing nub you didn’t know existed just minutes ago.

You gasped, your hips jerking off the table.

“There it is...” he breathed, a note of excitement in his tone. “That’s the problem. All this…energy…has nowhere to go. It’s all clogged up and it's making you sick with need. But don’t worry, sweetie I’m going to fix it...You’re going to be a good little patient for Dr. Na and let me empty you from all this nasty ache, won't you?"

Head nodding rapidly, quick to answer, too afraid he might take the delicious felling away. Lips parted open allowing pretty sobs slip from them.

“You’ve never felt this, have you? This heat? This tightness coiling in your sweet little belly?”

You couldn’t speak. Tears welled again, but these were tears from the overwhelming, terrifying sensation.

You shook your head, a sob mingling with a moan as his thumb dipped slightly inside you, then returned to that devastating, brilliant point.

The feeling was mounting, an unbearable pressure building deep inside, a coil twisting tighter and tighter, pushing against your bones. You felt frantic, wild, like an animal caught in a trap. You thrashed your head from side to side, your knuckles white where you gripped the edges of the table.

"It’s okay,” he crooned, his own breath becoming uneven. “It’s my job to take care of you, sweetie... Your body isn’t yours to worry about, is it? Let me take care of it. Just let go...”

His words slithered past the last fragments of your pavlovian conditioning.

Your body wasn’t your own. He was the authority. He was making the bad feeling go away, replacing it with this…this storm only he could create.

You surrendered to it, to him, a whimper escaping your lips as the coil inside you wound impossibly tight.

“Let go, baby,” he commanded, his voice suddenly a low growl. “Stop fighting me. Let go for Dr. Na. Cum. Cum for me. Now. Ohh yeah, that’s it, princess” he urged hearing the squelch that accompanied his thumb's every upward movement, his voice thick with a hunger you were too innocent to name. “Come on, sweet girl. Show me, show me you’re all better.”

With a guttural cry that was torn from your core, the coil snapped.

Your vision went white. A hot, pulsating wave of pure pleasure broke over you, so intense it was almost painful.

Erasing thought, erasing fear, erasing everything but the feeling and the sound of Dr. Na’s low, approving hum.

Your body bucked, your thighs trembling uncontrollably and your ears felt clogged as release washed through you in long, shuddering spasms, something warm trickling out, wetting your thighs and the crinkly paper. You were crying openly now, sobs of relief and utter confusion wracking your frame.

He kept working you through it, his touch relentless, drawing out every last aftershock until you collapsed, limp and panting, against the table.

You stared at the ceiling, the world slowly coming back into focus. As the tremors subsided, leaving you boneless and gasping, he slowly withdrew his hand. He peeled off the dampened glove with a soft snap, landing into the small metallic table with a thud. He's going to save it for later, for research purposes, of course.

He stood up, and you blinked, your vision clearing. His shirt was untucked at his chest, revealing his bumped pectorals along with a sheen of sweat on his brow and a very evident bulge pressing against his trousers.

The sight sent a fresh, confusing jolt through you.

He took your chin in his fingers, tilting your face up to his. He wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. His erection pressing against your thigh.

He smoothed your hair back from your damp forehead. “Look,” he said, his voice gentle once more, the authority replaced with a tenderness that felt like a reward. “Look at my sweet girl. All better now.” Places a soft kiss on your sweaty temple and his perfectly aligned teeth come to sight as his lips draw a smile that gives you goosebumps. "All better. The diagnosis was simple: chronic neglect."

“That was the cure, princess,” he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “Your body was starving for release. For a man’s touch. My touch.”

You could only stare at him, your mind a blank canvas he was painting on. The ache, the one that had been your constant companion for months, was gone. In its place was a strange, pleasant warmth and a deep, aching void that already seemed to miss his touch.

“Now, the prescription?” He smiled again, a gentle, benevolent curve of his lips that didn’t reach his hungry, possessive eyes. “Regular hands-on therapy. We’ll need to schedule follow-ups… quite frequently. To ensure the discomfort doesn’t return, is that okay, princess?"

You could only nod, your mind completely blank. He helped you sit up, the paper gown rustling. Your legs felt like jelly.

“I need you to understand something, sweetheart,” he said, his hands on your shoulders, holding you steady. His gaze was intense, locking you in place. “This is our special secret. You can’t tell anyone. No one would understand our methods. They wouldn’t understand that I had to touch you like that to make you feel better. They might try to take your treatment away. We can’t let that happen, can we?”

You shook your head, the thought of losing this relief, of letting the ache return was unbearable.

This feeling was wrong, you knew it, but it was the first thing that had ever felt truly right.

He had fixed you. He had found what was wrong...

“That’s my good girl,” he purred, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. His lips were warm and the kiss felt like a blessing. “Such a smart, obedient patient for me!”

He stepped back, adjusting himself. He became Dr. Na again, composed, professional, but the air between you had been irrevocably altered, thick with the knowledge of what had just occurred.

He watched you with an unnerving stillness, your movements clumsy in the aftermath. You slid off the table, your bare feet meeting the cool floor, and a new kind of slickness trickled down your inner thigh, a reminder of what he had taken from you.

Dr. Na walked to his desk, his back to you once more, and picked up a sleek silver pen. He clicked it once, the sharp, precise sound cutting through the hum of the lights. He began to write on a fresh prescription pad, the scratch of the pen the only sound in the room. You stood there, feeling exposed and small, clutching the flimsy paper to your chest like a shield.

Finally, he tore off the sheet. He didn't hand it to you. He folded it neatly and placed it inside a small, discreet white envelope. He turned and held it out. Your fingers trembled as you took it.

“This is for our next session,” he said, his tone all business now. “I’ve written my personal number on the back. You don’t call the front desk anymore. You call me, directly.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper.

❤︎₊ ⊹

haiii, omggg my second anon!! as soon as i recieved this i KNEW i had to start writing. i li-terally reached a flow state and i've been writing since the evening...and now it's midnight :,0

i love the concept of jaem being a nasty freak and a pervert, he's just like me......

anyway, just to let u know that obviously i do nawt condone this behavior, it's ok to have a small kinkk but do not!! let a doctor touch you this way EVER. okay, ty.

hope you enjoyed it!! PLEASE let me know if you did!! feedback and any other comments or thoughts are always appreciated :3 tysmmmm for readiiiing <3

You know how they say your mind replays your whole life in seven seconds right before you die?

Well, yours replayed the most recent event that led up to that moment.

Lee Jeno flew through the ice rink from one end to the other as he dodged the opponent team with only one goal in mind - the perfect last puck of the game to break the tie. The crowd, including you, watched in anticipation with every glide of the crisp blade that skirted around the icy arena. Jeno's movements were too captivating to take your eyes off him, not just because he was your crush, but because he was a star player for a reason with those swift and skilled movements of his! Your bladder was reaching its limits but the game was almost over so you stayed to watch to the very end. This was it! He was near the goal and there was a small opening in the top right corner of the goalpost if he could accurately hit his shot. All the spectators held their breath as the match counted down to the last few seconds of the game, Jeno paused for a millisecond before he whacked the puck with his stick ; the puck flew off the icy ground, into the air, into the direction of the goal net, but it bounced off the metal post, over the barrier, and smacked you right on the side of your forehead. Knocked out.

Your only last thoughts before your vision faded into total darkness were, please don't let me pee my pants.

   "Wanna go to the game?" Your friend asked. The last time you went to an ice hockey game, you ended up in the hospital with a raging concussion to the point you had to take the rest of the semester off to recover. So safe to say, you weren't keen on going to another ice hockey game in your life. Ever. Even if your crush was the star player of the team. Now you were back on campus, fully healed and ready to take on the new semester and whatever may come your way.

"Not in this lifetime ever again." You chatted while everyone in the classroom waited for the lecturer to begin the class.

"I totally forgot about that!" Your friend gasped in guilt. "Sorry."

"It's fine," you chuckled at her. "Cute charm." You loved how the small charms decorated her hand and dangled off her wrist.

"Thanks! I've just added this little car charm." She showed you her new charm. "Went on a road trip over the long weekend."

"Fun! Where'd you go?" You asked her.

"We went to-"

"So!" Professor Choi Sooyoung randomly bursted out in a loud voice and clapped her hands together and the chatter of the classroom died down. "Now that we're done with group projects, we will be focusing on your individual project."

"No more working together," you whispered and frowned at your friend beside you while the Professor talked.

"I'm sad." She pouted back.

"You're more than welcome to take the film in any direction you like as long as it focuses on dark themes." Professor Choi Sooyoung sat on the table. "Any questions?"

Someone raised their hand. "Is sexual intimacy on the table?"

"Everything is on the table: addiction, sex. As long as there's a message behind it. We're all adults here. I'll release a more detailed guideline that you can refer to later." She replied. "But don't go around shooting porn." Some people in the classroom groaned in disappointment.

"I will also be submitting these to a local competition, and whoever gets first place, wins a sponsored trip." This information caused chatter and murmer among your classmates including you. "So I expect quality work from each and everyone of you." She commented and then resumed her lecture till class was over.

You and your friend walked out the lecture hall and headed to the library cafe for a quick pick-me-up before you went your separate ways. "Gosh, I thought this would be an easy elective but she's submitting this to a competition!" You groaned and your friend reciprocated.

"I heard she didn't even do this last semester. Some just filmed on their phone and submitted it as is. So many people got an easy A." Your friend huffed and complained.

"What the heck! Shoot, I don't even have a camera!" The class had only worked and submitted on group projects so far this semester, you took this elective solely because it sounded fun and heard that the professor was chill most of the time, so you had different roles like a script writer or the props person instead of the camera man or the director. Your heart thumped raced in your head at the fact you had to carry all these heavy roles just for an elective! You didn't even own a camera! "Do you have any I can borrow or rent?" You asked as you both entered the library cafe.

"Sorry, I'm also borrowing mine from a friend's friend." She frowned in response. Your lips pursed into a thin and nodded understandingly. "Wait! Let me ask my friend!" She screamed almost too loudly where she received death stares from other people around her. Even though there was a cafe in the library, the quiet rule was still heavily enforced throughout the premise. "Maybe I can ask my friend's friend if he has extra cameras laying around? He's super into photography."

"Really? It's fine if he doesn't have any, I'll find a different way." You reassured her.

"Let me just give it a try." She texted her friend's friend and he promptly texted her back."Yes!" She exclaimed. "He has a couple extra old ones that he doesn't mind lending to you but they're still in good condition. Is that alright for you?"

"More than perfect! I'm just trying to pass this class." You smiled brightly and your heart let out a breath of relief. Now you can focus on other things and order your favourite drink.

"Ok, his name is Bae Jinyoung and I'll text you his contact info." She swiftly sent you his contact information via text.

"Thanks! You're the best!" You hugged her while you both stood in line at the cafe, waiting to order your drinks. The cafe was always occupied with people but today was a bit of a quiet day, granted most of them were still in class while yours ended early.

The second you stepped into the cafe, you glanced at Jeno who sat across from Chenle as they both played games on their phones. Well, you didn't exactly see Chenle but you saw the back of his head which was unmistakably his. There was a secret you kept to yourself and never whispered it to a single soul - not because you were ashamed of it but because you felt silly, almost cliche-like, for liking a popular guy who had never noticed you and it wasn't like you made an effort to get acquainted with him like most people do with their crushes, especially since you knew he infamously doesn't do relationships. You've heard the stories from acquitances and classmates, Jeno's a straightforward type of person who makes it clear from the beginning that it would only be physical, but alas, there was something about his charm, his looks, the way he fucked that made girls fall deeper and deeper with him. Some of them were bold and tried to shoot their shot but Jeno would reject them faster than you could say airball. It would devastate you to have all of him, yet, he was never yours to begin with.

"Staring at Lee Jeno?" Your friend teased and nudged your shoulders while you waited behind someone in line.

Your eyes widened at the fact you got caught staring at Jeno. "N-no," your denial made heat crawled up to your back. "You don't see people with red hair everyday." You pointed to Jeno's hairdo.

"Girl, it's fine. He's hot and cute." Your friend also glanced at Jeno was remained oblivious at the two souls staring at him.

"Someone has a crush," you playfully diverted the attention to her instead.

She snorted at your statement. "He's good looking but not my type."

"Not your type?"

"You know, popular, it's like dating a celebrity. I would get so jealous if other girls constantly looked at my man," she explained.

"Yeah, I get it."

"Is that why you've never talked to him?"

Why the hell was she perspective for? "No!" You jumped in almost too defensively. "Yeah he's cute but he gives me the ick." There was a sliver of truth in your statement. "I saw him sneeze into his hands instead of his elbow or a tissue." When it happened, you were both in the cafe library but you were seated in a corner waiting for your friend to arrive. While Jeno stood in line to order his drink. From a distance, you took note how he finally shed his leather jacket and hoodie when the weather was warmer and traded it for a black T-shirt. You were secretly admiring the way his biceps flexed against the short sleeves but that moment was interrupted when his whole body jolted into a sneeze and he covered it with his hands. Ew. Then proceeded to pay and take his drink with the same unwashed hands. Men. Safe to say you called the time of death on your crush.

"Ew," your friend's face morphed into the exact expression of disgust you made when it happened and you couldn't helped but laugh.

"What would you like to order?" The cashier asked as you both now stood in front of her.

"I'll have a Frappuccino mocha with extra chocolate drizzle." Your friend gave her order to the cashier.

"And I'll have an iced peach lemon tea, please." You promptly added afterwards.

"What size for both?"

"Regular, huh." You informed the cashier.

"Alright, thanks. Your order will be ready once this beeps." She handed a small black device once you both paid for your drinks.

Then, you both situated yourself in the corner booth since it was empty while you waited for your order to be called on. "What are you planning to do for your assignment by the way?" You asked her.

"I'll figure it out later but something along the lines of toxic love, domestic abuse or even touch upon Stockholm syndrome since it sounds interesting to me."

"Ooh! Definitely go for it, I would watch that in a heartbeat." You replied enthusiastically.

"How about you?"

"Ooh," you hissed and gave her question a thought. "I'm leaning towards a thriller type of thing, murder just sounds appealing."

She snorted and quietly laughed at your response. "That sounds so weird without context."

   Lee Jeno was a simple man: show up to class, show up to practice, and commit to it. Clean, simple, and predictable. Relationships on the other hand, there were messy, too many variables and miscellaneous feelings involved with no clear winner.

Hence why Jeno kept it straightforward and simple with anyone involved; he makes it clear that it's purely a mutual physical relationship with no labels. If they didn't like it? More than welcome to leave. However, there were still people who chose to read beyond Jeno's words and attemptted to pursue a relationship. He could only shake his head at their silly pursuits and sigh in disappointment before he broke it off. Of course, on more than one occasion, he was met with girls who felt upset and betrayed by him so they hit him, cursed him, smeared his name, and he pretty much had braced himself against those reactions - that was fine. The worst of all was when they would act out in public and dragged him under the scrutinizing eyes of strangers. For once, it would be nice to have someone who understood him and cleanly break it off with no feelings involved.

There was something else he loved as much as the concept of simplicity and predictability - the rush of adrenaline. There was something addicting and inticing to the thrill of not knowing the bounds of your limits. He too found it ironic that two matters on the opposite side of the spectrum was something he liked. The rush of speeding through the highway on his bike, the intense countdown from the game to make his bet, and stupid bets that had no real value to it

"I bet you can't do it." Chenle sucked in the last bits of his coconut matcha and wriggled his eyebrows at Jeno with that cheesy grin of his.

Jeno rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his faded red hair; that was another stupid bet with Chenle, which he unfortunately lost hence the red hair, it was a bet to see who could break more eggs with their head, and lo and behold, it was Zhong Chenle. 42 vs 32. "I can, just don't want to." He rolled his eyes at Chenle.

"Not even if you tried." Chenle snorted which provoked the competitive spirit that was slowly burning up in Jeno as Chenle continued to mocked him.

"You're trying to lure me in." He leaned closer to Chenle. "I'm not doing it." Jeno was determined to not be pulled into Chenle's silly antics again.

"I dare you." His signature grin plastered on his face.

"No." Jeno replied in a bored tone.

"Please!" Chenle whined too loudly which received death glares from other people around them.

Jeno grew conscious of the unwanted stares and toned down his voice even more even though he wasn't the one speakinf loudly. "No."

"I'll give you a thousand!" He begged with his hands clasped together.

"A thousand?" Jeno gawked at the preposition Chenle was throwing for a silly little bet. "Really?" He knew that Chenle had more than enough money to burn for silly things like this but, even then, it was going too far. The stakes did not match the reward.

There was smug smirked stitched on Chenle's face. "Need to burn all my money somehow." He shrugged cockily.

God was he sometimes annoying. "Go on." Nevertheless, he was intrigued with Chenle's proposition.

"If you lose, you give me your motorbike."

"Fuck no way, bets off. You don't even have a license." Jeno shook his head. "I saved up money to buy that bike."

"Nah, it would be the perfect practice bike." He leaned back against the chair and crossed his legs. "Gotta scratch something up before I buy a real bike."

"My motorbike is a Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14R that can speed at 295 kilometres per hour, " Jeno punched Chenle, "while you scream riding at the back."

"It's because I want to feel Jeno Oppa's hard abs." He cackled and teased by simultaneously touching his biceps and and up but Jeno shooed him away.

"No bet." Jeno shook his head, he knew it was too good to be true.

"So, what I'm hearing is that you're a," Chenle paused for a second. "Chicken," he whispered in Jeno's ear and there was a devilish grin on his face.

"It's not wor-" Jeno took a deep breath and closed his eyes. This was just one of Chenle's many tactics to make other people do stupid things.

"Bok, bok, bok." Chenle started clucking with his hands near his armpit.

"I'm not going to do it." Jeno stood firm.

"Bok, bok, bok." His neck pecked out of his body with his eyes wide opened with his arms folded to the side. "Bok, bok, bok."

"Fine." Jeno grumbled and pursed his lips into a thin line. "So, how's this going to work?"

Chenle clapped his hands excitedly, which received another round of angry stares from people nearby. "You have to date the first girl who orders an iced peach lemon tea for three months. No dating apps, no cheating, a full-on committed relationship." He explained the Jeno premise of the bet.

"Fine, deal."

"Yes!" They both shook on it, especially Chenle with his vigorous handshake. Jeno was a hostage since Chenle was insistent that they would find the perfect candidate at the cafe library. Although Jeno was held against his will, he didn't mind spending the rest of the afternoon there since all his classes for the day was in the morning. Chenle, however, skipped his afternoon class in favour of waiting for the person to order the drink, he would occasionally checked for the time on his watch. They hadn't noticed how quickly time passed because they were engrossed with a game on their respective phones.

"You're so shit at this game." Jeno commented.

"Shut the fuck up. One more round." Chenle's competitive streak was burning with passion.

"Let's just pick whoever comes next, easy." Jeno piped up after awhile.

"No, no, we have to pick the person who orders an iced peach lemon tea." Chenle was insistent. "One more round, dude." So they resumed their game until they heard someone order the drink.

"Iced peach lemon tea, please." A female voice ordered which caught both of the attention. Jeno turned around to see the person who ordered the drink and raised his eyebrow as he watched you and your friend slid into the corner booth. His eyes blinked slowly and his eyebrows knitted together; there was something about you that seemed oddly familiar but he couldn't quite pinpoint it. Were you in the same class as him? No. He would've remembered seeing someone as pretty as you in his class. A party? Not that either.

"We found your girl." Chenle cackled while he rubbed his hands together like an evil maniac. "The bet officially starts now. Go ask her out."

Jeno dusted his hands off his black cargo pants, ready to get up from the chair after hours slummed in the chair, when a cashier approached Chenle. "I'm sorry but we have to ask you to leave the premise." She informed about his much needed departure.

"What?" His voice boomed throughout the gigantic, enclosed space. "For what?!"

"People have been complaining about the disruptive noise." She glanced nervously at him. "Which is you."

"I've been anything but disruptive! These bitches should mind their business!" His voice grew louder and louder without his realising it. People stared at him with a frown on their faces.

At this point, heat crawled up from Jeno's neck all the way up to his ears and he had his head down in embarrassment. "Chenle, apologise and leave." He whispered in a hushed tone to Chenle.

"No, I want to watch you ask her out." He whined to Jeno.

"Just apologise and leave. I promise I'll ask her out." Jeno lightly scolded Chenle like was a child.

"Fine, I will leave but I will not apologise for simply existing." He snagged his sunglasses on and sashayed out the door.

"Sorry about the disturbance," Jeno flashed a sheepish smile at her, only for her to return a tight smile before she went back to the counter.

Jeno sat back down again and waited for everyone's to focus on their own thing. He glanced at you and noticed that your friend had gotten up and left the place, leaving you all by yourself. He watched the way your features tightened when you read a specific part of a book and your slightly frown on your on the corner of your lips. That's when it hit him! You were the girl he pucked! He had visited you a couple of times in the hospital while you were still unconscious, you looked frail and grey on your bedside, he even met your parents who were understanding of the whole situation. Despite that, the guilt never faded and he wanted to see you and apologise in person once he heard that you woke up, but your parents informed him that you were focusing on recovering and didn't want to relive the moment - scared that it might trigger you. So, he left you alone. It was like fate had brought you back to him and not some stupid bet.

Jeno got up from his seat and went to you. "Hey, you're yn right?" he whispered softly but it caught your attention as you looked up at him.

You froze. Lee Jeno coming up to you was not a daily occurrence (more of a never occurrence). You took a quick glanced at his attire: team hoodie and black cargo pants. He has practice today. Maybe it was the combination of you noticing anything Jeno related and him being a creature of habit that you instantly knew what he was up to based on his outfit. If he wore his team hoodie with cargo pants or track pants, he had practice and if he wore a simple shirt or his leather jacket, it meant that he didn't have practice that day. "Hi," your confused tone didn't go unnoticed by him.

"You're the girl I accidentally pucked, right? I'm really sorry." He apologised sheepishly. "I'm Jeno by the way," he introduced himself to you like he wasn't one of the most well-known guys on campus and extended his hand to shake with yours.

You muffled a chuckle at his cute behaviour and shook his hand. "Yeah, I heard from my parents that you dropped by often."

"I've been meaning to get in touch with you but your parents said you were focusing on recovering." He shoved his hands in his black cargo pants as he talked. "How are you doing?"

"Well, had a raging concussion but now I'm better than ever. Even got a break thanks to you." You cracked a light joke and he chuckled in return.

"Can I treat you to a meal? As reparation for pucking you." He asked you.

"Right now?"

"If you're free. Or, any other time is fine too, just let me know."

Your heart raced at the thought of being on a one-on-one date with Jeno, even though he didn't say it was a date but whatever. Years of admiring and creeping him from afar, and sure, you've imagined countless of ways how your meet cute would be but this took a surprising turn, "now is fine," you replied.

   It was a family-style restaurant with dim-lights, warm ambiance, and cozy food. It wasn't too far from campus and it was a place that you and Jeno frequented often with your respective friends. A heavy guilt settled in Jeno's chest as he watched you happily devour your food with a glint on your face. He has disappointed girls on more than one occasion, even angered them, but to his defence, he made it clear from the beginning what being with him entailed. However, using a girl for his own personal benefit, a stupid bet, was stooping too low for him. Especially a girl he accidentally concussed. With shaky hands he placed his utensils down on the table. "Listen," he braced himself, "I have something to confess."

You stopped eating midway and stared at him. Jeno had a cool exterior implanted on his face but there was a concerned look on his face that you couldn't decipher, yet, it made you anxious.

"I wasn't completely honest with you when I asked you out to dinner." He trailed off for a second before confessing, "this was a bet."

The corners of your lips frowned the slightest and the grip on your fork tightened. "I'm sorry?" You blinked a couple of times making sure your hearing wasn't impaired, "this dinner was a bet?"

"The dinner itself wasn't a bet, dating you for three months was the bet." He explained. "Bet or no bet, I wanted to treat you either way, sorry it had to be like this."

You nodded your head. "And you picked me because…?"

"It was random. Chenle dared me to ask out the person who orders an iced peach lemon tea and we have to date for three months." Jeno explained.

You snickered at the mention of Chenle, "wow, that is so Chenle."

"You know him?"

"Yeah, we're kinda like friends, I guess. He hangs out with my friends a lot."

"Mine too." You both chuckled at this while Jeno ran his hand through his soft hair. "Sorry fuck, it was shitty of me for using you like this, especially after I caused you a concussion."

"Yeah, you did." You nodded in agreement.

"I'll just pay and I won't disturb you ever again."

Jeno's honesty about the whole situation reminded you exactly why you fell for him even more. It was a couple years ago and you and a group of girls were simply having fun at a club, minding your own business, when a guy kept harassing some of the girls in your group for their phone number. He had a sleezy grin on his face and danced way too close to you guys and everytime you guys moved away, he moved even closer, following wherever you all went. You didn't even realise Jeno was also at the club with his friends, he went up to guy and practically scared the creepy dude away with his mere presence. Although he left with another girl that night, your heart fell even deeper for him. "What's the prize?" You asked as you took a bite of your food.

Jeno cocked his head to the side with a slight eyebrow raised, intrigued by your reaction. You were a stranger to him so he wasn't sure what to expect from you: hitting, kicking, or even throwing food at him."If I win, Chenle owes me 1000."

"Real money?" Your eyes widened at the amount for a stupid bet.

"Yes, direct transfer."

"And if you lose?" You followed up with a different question.

"He gets my motorbike." Jeno groaned at the thought of Chenle's grubby hands all over his bike.

"He doesn't even have a license!" You pointed out.

"That's exactly what I said!" Jeno remarked while a small corner of his lips lifted.

"So, are you going to lose your Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14R to him now? "

His eyes glinted with amusement at you name-dropping his bike, "most likely," he replied, "probably going to get it scratched or lose it before he completely abandons it at his place forever."

"Or, you can like not give it to him." You suggested. "You are physically stronger than him."

He inhaled a hissed, "a deal is a deal, doll," and a real man, according to Jeno, always lives up to his promises no matter what and it wasn't your problem to deal with but his.

"Ah," a quiet silence stretched over between the two of you as only the cluttered sounds of utensils and faint chatter from other tables filled in the background. "What if you don't have to lose it?" You stared at him right in the eye.

Jeno furrowed his eyebrows at your question. "What do you mean?"

"We can make easy money." You explained to him,"we'll pretend to date for three months, split the money, and then break up." You explained. "And you get to keep your bike and Chenle doesn't have to any know about any of this." Maybe there was a side effect of the concussion. The most logical thing you should've done was throw water in his face and walk away but somehow you weren't angry with the revelation. Disappointed? Yes. Angry? No.

"I don't get into relationships." He commented on your plan.

"I said pretend to date but ok then," you shrugged off the thought of making easy money down the drain and resumed eating your food, might as well get some reparations from him. "You alright if I order dessert?" You asked for the waiter before he even replied to your dessert question - maybe extra food too but he didn't seem to notice since he was busy cutting up his meat. Your eyes gleamed when the waiter brought over the dessert, a decadent-looking chocolate cake, which swiftly came within minutes.

On the other side of the table, Jeno was mulling your offer in his head as you happily ate your dessert; you even offered to share the chocolate cake with him but he shook his head, letting you indulge the entire thing. The proposition you offered meant that he would still win the bet and keep his bike while you get a portion of the prize money too. The more he watched you beamed while eating, the more it seemed like a compelling offer. "Let's do it." He muttered.

"Do what?" The offer no longer swirled your head as you indulged in the sweet chocolate cake.

"What you said," he clarified, "pretend to date."

"Really? You just said you don't date." You scrutinised him.

"I don't date. Like what you said, we'll pretend to date for three months, go to parties and games together, but we'll secretly see whoever we want." He proposed the plan to you.

"Won't people out you as a cheater if you hook up with other people?" You questioned him as you ate the frosting off the chocolate cake.

"Don't worry, they're not from here." He reassured you.

"Ok, that all seems fine but I'm not going to your games. Ever." You hummed in deep thought as you finished up your chocolate cake. "And! I dump you, not the other way round."

Jeno nodded once. "Sure, I don't care about the who dumped whom stuff."

"And!" You piped up one more time. "You have to star in my film assignment."

"Ahh," his body shifted awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "I can't act."

"Don't worry about it," you waved off a hand, "there's no script yet but I just need you for your body." A waiter came by with your takeaway and set it on the table but her innocent eyes were wide opened and left but not without giving you and Jeno a shaky stare.

"So, I'm a prop to you?" He playfully asked you.

"Ahhh," you faked winced and touched your previously injured forehead.

Jeno knew you were playing around but he couldn't help but felt a wave of guilt when you pointed to your forehead. "Ok," he let out a reluctant sighed, "I'll do it but I warned you about my acting skills."

You stopped pretending to be hurt and instantly released a satisfactory smile at him. You extended your hand towards Jeno, "deal," your right hand suspended in the air, waiting for Jeno to shake on it.

He hesitated for a second but held onto your right hand without shaking it. "Remember, please don't fall in love with me. People want more from me even though I told them from the beginning that I don't do relationships and I don't want to hurt you a second time." Jeno said in a hushed tone as he stared at you with a determined gaze.

You pulled an easy smile that hid your true feelings for him. "Don't worry, that flew out the window the moment your puck hit my head." You smoothly lied to Jeno, your heart twisted in agony but you kept a light expression on your face.

"What's it about, anyways?" He asked.

"I'm tinkering with the idea of murder."

He cocked his head to the side. "Huh, that's different. Never expected you to do something like this."

"Well, yeah, the assignment was to explore a dark theme like addiction or drugs, really it's up to us."

"Sounds cool."

"The Professor is going to submit all of our work to this local competition and the most critically acclaimed piece, but they will also take account the amount of views from the public, will win a sponsored trip!" You excitedly told him.

A small corner of Jeno's lips lifted upwards and his eyes twinkled in amusement. "So, you're using me for clout." He leaned in closer to you.

You involuntarily moved your head back. You touched your injured spot and let out a faux winced - again. "Ahh, my head," even dropped your head down to make it realistic.

Jeno chuckled at your antics. "Are we going to go with the murder storyline?" He asked. "Am I the murderer?"

"Yeah no, I thought about it and I like the idea of murdering you, not the other way round." The same waitress came by with the check and the card machine. The machine vibrated due to her shaky hands as Jeno tapped his card on it. "Excuse me, can I have extra paper napkins please?" You politely asked the waitress; you loved collecting little knick knacks from places you visited and paste all of them in a journal - a visual diary of the mundane things in your life.

When she came back with your paper napkins, she also gave Jeno an extra one which confused him because he didn't request for one. He opened it and laughed when he saw what had been written on it.

"What's so funny?" You asked him.

He slid the paper to you. Tap on the table twice if you need help. Your jaw dropped to the floor in disbelief while Jeno continued to laughed. You both got up from your seats and before he exited the door, he stopped by the waitress who gave him the paper napkin, "thanks for being concerned about me but I'm more than fine," and left a tip for her.

   The notification sound from his phone reminded him that he was running late to meet you for the filming, so he stealthily left the bed without a noise. Goodbye. He glanced one last time at her slumber figure. It happened again, just when he thought everything was going well, she confessed how she wanted more from him: a label, a relationship. And just like that, it ended.

He biked his way to the location you shared since you wanted to film outside of campus. By the time he had arrived, you were already there waiting for him and waved at him. The day before yesterday, Jeno had received the script for the assignment that he could refer to; the film will focus on Jeno's character's daily life, a popular and well-liked guy, who one day receives an anonymous love letter. The letter seemed harmless at first but the more "Jeno" ignored it, the more he felt like someone was watching his every move until his paranoia is what kills him. Shivers. Literal chills went through his bones when he read your script. It was dark and twisted, presented in an everyday life situation, a twist within a twist.

It felt nostalgic seeing him with black hair because the last time time you saw him with black hair was when you went to his first ice hockey game. Then, he dyed his hair chestnut brown, blonde for a brief period, blue when you unfortunately got hit by the puck, red, and now black. Your heart fluttered a bit when he came closer. "I like your hair," you complimented him.

"Thanks, it's been awhile," he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, I know." Your words slipped.

Jeno quirked an eyebrow at your words. "How do you know it's been awhile?" He crossed his arm with an amuse smile on him. "You like me, huh?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy," you hissed sarcastically and patted him on the back awkwardly. Damn, he's so hard. His back muscles, ok!

Jeno bit back a smile and cleared his throat, "so, what are we going to do today?"

"We're going to be filming some scenes out of order but the main scene I want to film is you on a busy street, going to different places but you're constantly looking over your shoulders because you feel like someone is watching you but nothing is there and your paranoia is feasting inside you like a parasite," you explained the objective of today's shoot.

Jeno took a step back after you explained everything, "this is fictional, right?" His tone wavered with anxiety.

"I promise that no actors will be harmed in the making of this film." You placed your hand to your heart with a smile stitched on you.

Time flew by fast, filming one scene after another, and snack breaks in between, of course, until the sun had set. You stretched out your body since your body was aching from crouching down all day. "Thanks for today, Jeno, you did great," and gave him a thumbs up.

"As long as there's minimal talking." He cracked a joke and you lightly laughed at it.

At that moment, you received a text from your friends asking you when you were coming. Oh yeah! You were supposed to meet them at the food festival on campus tonight. "I gotta go back now, my friends are waiting for me." You told Jeno.

"Alright," he shuffled his feet against the asphalt road, "how are you going back by the way?"

"I'll take the bus if there's time or take the cab if I'm in a pinch." You zipped up the camera in its bag and double checked just to make sure everything was in there.

"Or, I can drop you off." Jeno offered.

"You came here with your bike, right?"

"Yeah, and it's faster if we go back with it," he gestured to his monstrous vehicle and buckled in his helmet.

Pre-injured you would've immediately hopped on without a second thought because no way were you going to turn down a fun ride on a cool motorbike. However, post-injured you discovered how difficult it was to recover from an injury and motorbikes were notorious for it. "I'm not getting on that gigantic thing without a helmet," you remarked.

"Oh, wait." Jeno took out a spare helmet beneath the seat of the bike and placed it on your head. "Ah, this is not going to work," he knocked the side of the helmet and it wobbled over your head, "it's too big."

You removed the helmet off your head, "it's fine, I'll take a cab."

"Nonsense," he took the helmet back and laid it back in its place and then started measured the circumference of your head with his fingers. "I'll get crucified if people found out you went back yourself at night when I'm right here, you know, now that we're fake dating."

"Uhhh, what are you doing?" A bit confused with his random action.

"Measuring the circumference of your head." Once he measured your head, he noted it down on his phone, "wait here," and left with his bike but came back within ten minutes.

"That was fast," you were surprised at the speed he left and came back.

"Yeah, the shop's nearby." He took out another, smaller helmet this time that was identical to his. It was black and, this time, it fitted your head perfectly; he knocked his knuckles on the side of the helmet and smiled. "Perfect, now your head's protected."

You wobbled your head side to side and the helmet stayed perfectly intact. "Thanks!"

"Oh, shit." He realised, "I should've asked you what colour you wanted instead of buying black like mine."

You laughed at him. "It's ok, it's cute. It could be our couple's item." You reassured him.

Jeno's heart skipped a beat at your statement. "Ok, let's go," he gave you a handsome smile. He straddled in the front and patted the backseat for you. "Sit here."

You took a deep breath and position yourself behind him on the edge of the seat, with a respectable distance from him and placed your hands on his shoulders. "Ok, I'm ready!"

"It's safer if you hold onto me." He remarked.

"I'm good." You patted his shoulders. "Let's go!"

He cranked his head to the side, "suit yourself then." Jeno hit the pedal harder than he normally does so the bike jerked, and you ended up slipping forward right behind him - your chest pressed against his wide back. "You good?" He asked.

"Yeah," you held onto the sides of his jacket with a steady hold. "Ride safely."

At first, Jeno rode the bike at a slow pace, for him but not for you, he eventually got onto the highway as a shortcut to go back to campus, and that was when you wrapped your hands around Jeno's waist and felt his hard abs even beneath all the layers of clothing. He drove faster than usual and a sly, victorious smirk appeared when he felt you hugging him tighter.

People knew when Jeno was around because his bike was loud and people naturally looked at him. So, imagine the surprise on everyone's face when they realised, a girl, was getting off Jeno's motorbike - a never seen before phenomenon.

"What-" Ryujin watched you get off Jeno's motorbike at a food festival on campus ground.

"The-" Yeji's eyes widened and her jaw dropped when she realised it was you with Lee Jeno.

"Fuck." Haechan muttered with his mouth full of corndog.

All three of them froze when Jeno took off your helmet first before he did his. "Hey guys! How's the food so far?" You cheerily greeted Ryujin and Yeji like nothing unusual was happening.

"What the fuck is happening here?" Haechan spoke clearly now that his corndog was all chewed up.

You tilted your head at Haechan with a nonchalant expression, "what?"

"This!" Ryujin made weird gestures with her that was directed at you and Jeno.

"Is this why you were late?" Yeji side-eyed Jeno.

"Yeah, he was helping me film."

"Oh," Haechan smirked, "what kind of filming?"

"It's for an assignment." Jeno rolled his eyes at Haechan's obvious sexual innuendo.

"That's how most of my favourite videos start of," Haechan suggestively commented, which pissed Jeno off because the nature of your relationship was far from that, in a quick swift, Jeno headlocked Haechan with his arm until Haechan tapped out and apologised. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jeno released him while Haechan coughed out a choked, gasping for air.

"Is that it?" Ryujin asked you.

You glanced at Jeno before you answered her question, "he's also my boyfriend," and wrapped your hand around his bicep.

"What!" All three of them yelled out at the same time in a disastrous panic full of questions and rage.

"You didn't tell us anything!" Ryujin and Yeji whined and kept on asking questions.

Haechan reacted the same way, "but you don't do relationships, what the fuck!" He pointed out to Jeno. "Is this some sort of dare? If yes, where do I sign up? This shit would be easy money to make."

You and Jeno gave each other a knowing look, and didn't even get a chance to respond to any of the questions because another friend of yours, Wonjin, came back with some fried food and some of Jeno's other friends from the hockey team showed up - unaware of the commotion you both caused.

"Hey, what's happening?" Wonjin asked as he took a bite of his langos.

"They're dating," Yeji replied.

"You guys are dating?! Sungchan piped up instead of Wonjin.

"Since when?" Serim asked with eyes that popped out his socket.

"Dude, are you being for real?" Mark asked while everyone else huddled up even closer to you both, waiting patiently for his answer.

"Yes," Jeno replied in a simple tone.

"I don't trust you, Lee Jeno." Wonjin shook his head as he pointed his finger at him.

"Make her cry and I'll cut your balls off." Ryujin threatened with neck slice motion.

"But you ghost girls after they confess their feelings to you!" Serim pointed out in agony.

"The concussion got to her." Yeji commented while she fawned all over you. "You hypnotized her when she was in a coma."

"No, I don't trust any of this." Sungchan crossed his arms.

"It's super, super, sus." Mark repeated in disbelief. "Like, super sus. Super."

Small beads of sweat clamped up in the palm of Jeno's hands when one of them asked how and when they started dating. It hadn't been that long since your first "date" and you had never discussed your backstory. Jeno glanced down at you and interlocked his hands with yours. "It's real, we went out on a date." The tone of his voice was not convincing anyone, including you.

"Yeah, it's all still very new but we are dating." You added on. "We started texting each other after I recovered and then he asked me out on a date and here we are."

A collective sound of ah's and ooh's chorused within the group, even Jeno was impressed with your quick coverup.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier that you were talking to him?" Wonjin asked you.

"Because it was nothing, and all of a sudden it was something." You shrugged.

"You owe us a detail story later ," Ryujin remarked, "and my threat still remains!" She pointed her fingers at him.

"Can we go eat now or what? I'm over this." Haechan complained and everyone agreed to it.

"We're going to steal her for now," Yeji hooked her arm with yours and pulled you away from Jeno, "you will always be second priority, Lee Jeno."

You flashed a mischious grin when a bright idea popped in your head, "Jeno, is it ok if I order fries?" You asked him in a sweet voice.

"Is it ok if you order fries?" Yeji repeated after you and gave a menacing stare to Jeno.

"Shit," Haechan raised his hand, "I didn't know you were controlling like that."

"We don't fuck with him like that." Sungchan made an "X" sign with his arms.

"What a control freak," Serim commented.

Sweats ran down the sides of his temples and his hands became even clammier over this random accusation. "I'm not! You can have all the fries you want!" Jeno uttered out in a panic.

"Wow, so now you don't care about her sodium intake." Wonjin sighed.

"She just recovered from a head injury which you caused. What sick kind of behaviour is this?" Haechan remarked.

"You don't care for her fucking health!" Mark cried out.

Their scolding and angry voices drowned out of Jeno's ears when he caught your eyes staring at him and watched how you were failing miserably trying to hold back a laughter. Oh, you were trouble.

  Rumours floated around on campus that the Lee Jeno, who was infamous for rejecting relationship advances, happened to be in one. People had seen you and Jeno walk around on campus or on "dates" but everyone brushed it off thinking it wasn't real or it was temporary. Especially since you had never shown up to any of his games - classic 101 girlfriend support.

So imagine the surprised or shocked looks on everyone's faces when you walked into the party with Jeno's hand on your back, guiding you through the crowded house, the ice hockey team's house - cementing the fact that you were in fact dating. Some even gave you nods of approval or dapped you up for locking the Jeno Lee down. Being with a popular person like Jeno meant that people would often come up to him just to say hi or make small talk and he never ignored any of them; being his girlfriend meant that you also received a similar treatment.

"There's the man of the hour!" Someone shouted as Jeno and you entered a room in the house that was slightly secluded from the loud music where everybody danced.

"My man makes history shooting the last shot in the last second!" Another one hollered.

"Pew, pew, pew." Some other guy threw Jeno a bro fist.

"Yo! Come join our game." Mark yelled out. There were a quite a few people gathered in a circle including: Haechan, Serim, Mark, Chenle, and Sungchan.

You took a seat first on the floor next to Chaeryeong and Jeno followed suit but Haechan called him out on it. "No couples next to each other!" and pointed him to a different seat beside Sungchan.

Chenle didn't missed the way Jeno frowned when he had to changed seats. "We're going to play Spin the Bottle, and instead of Truth or Dare which has been done to death, it's the Whisper Game." Chenle explained.

"The Whisper Game?" You whispered to Chaeryeong.

"Yup, it's just like Spin the Bottle and whoever the bottle points to, the person can whisper their question and your answer has to be someone within the circle." Chaeryeong explained. "If other people want to know what the question was, they have to take a shot."

"No boring questions or you're out of the game!" Haechan reminded everyone. "Let's gets drunk!" Everyone cheered and Serim spun the bottle first. It started off with easy questions and then it became more intense with secrets revealed or silly pent up emotions from someone else; either way, some people asked you questions, you asked other people questions, and you drank to a lot of it.

It was Chenle's turn to spin the bottle and it landed on you. At this point, your eyes were hazy, barely holding it open, and your sentence slurred with each word. Chenle went up to you and whispered his question, "who has the biggest dick?" Without hesitation, you pointed to Jeno.

"I'm drinking!" Sungchan took a shot,

"Me too!" Chaeryeong shouted.

Soon, the entire circle, including Jeno, had taken a shot so Chenle had to reveal the question. "The question was who has the biggest dick?"

"His 9-inch-dick!" You yelled out loud with a proud smile on your face but you were barely holding yourself together because your mind was so inebriated. "It's so huge and pretty…like," you widened the gap between your hands till it was around nine inches long and giggled to yourself, "this big."

Everyone laughed, hooted, or hollered at this and Jeno's ears were undeniably pink from all the attention. He watched how your head fell over Chaeryeong's shoulder and decided it was time to call it quits for the night. He got up from his seat and crouched down beside you who was still leaning on Chaeryeong's shoulder. "Do you wanna go now?" He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and spoke only loud enough for you to hear. The only response he got from you was a low hummed followed by an indecipherable sentence and took it as a cue to end the night.

"We're calling it in, thanks guys." He wrapped one hand behind your back and the other below your knees and lifted you off the ground.

"Boooooooo!" Haechan and everyone else chorused when Jeno carried

Jeno made his way upstairs to his bedroom and laid you down carefully on his bed. He had planned to pull over the blanket on you but you started muttering utter nonsense.

"Jeno," you whined drunkenly and touched his dick over his jeans. "Let me have it, please," and palmed over him.

"W-what?" He was flustered at your sudden behaviour and dropped the blanket down.

With clumsy hands but a desperate attitude, you unbuckled his belt with such ease for who a person who was not sober. "Just once, please." You pleaded while Jeno held your wrist together.

"N-no." He stuttered and held you down with zero strength from him.

"Please," you cried as you rubbed your face against his cloth dick that was slowly growing hard under your touch.

"No." He had to be more firm with you. You presented yourself with puppy-dog eyes which pulled a tug in Jeno's heart but he still shook his head.

"Fine," you frowned with your head down and he withdrew his hand from your wrist, relief that the worst was over. Or so he thought. Once your wrist was free from his restraint, you pulled down his jeans and boxer at the same time and his cock stuck out halfway because he stopped you once again. You cried at his restrained, "no fun," you pouted against his dick.

Jeno groaned as he tilted his head back; his first instinct was to grind against your face but resisted the urge because of you were clearly not sober. His cock grew harder, and you whining against it, wasn't making it easier for him. "No." He grunted and pulled you off him. The boxer and jeans was immediately pulled back up again but he hissed as his raging cock came in contact with the rough denim. You were still whining and crying at the lost warm contact of Jeno's touch and in desperate need, you pulled down your tube top and kneaded it. "Please, Jeno."

Fuck, you had the most perfect pair of tits he had ever seen in his life. Saliva drooled out just a little before he felt the insane guilt for watching you like this when you were drunk. His boner was now rock hard but he turned around and closed his eyes. He grabbed a hoodie of his and with his eyes closed, headed towards to put it on you but not without you putting up a fight.

"Don't want it, Jenoneno," you whined but Jeno won when the hoodie went through your head, he sighed a huge breath of relief; this was for your own good and his. He tucked you in like a burrito so you couldn't escape, it was for both of your own good.

You pouted at him. " 'jus wanted," you yawned mid sentence and your eyes fluttered closed, "your big dick." You were fast asleep.

Jeno eyes glinted with amusement as he silently chuckled. He tucked in a lock of hair that strayed to the front and with a gentle touch, softly grazed against the injured spot - a very small scar was visible. "Next time," he whispered.

There was a raging headache that pulsed through your head when you opened your eyes to a blurry vision. Your head throbbed from the pain but you let it passed until your vision unblurred itself to your surrounding; there was a computer on the desk at the end of the bed, a black helmet on the side table, and random equipments here and there.

A muffled grunt came out from beneath the blanket on the other bed across from yours. A familiar mop of black hair peeked out from it but the rest of the face was still covered with the blanket. You couldn't be bothered to figure out who it was this early in the morning and focused on the sweat that had uncomfortably accumulated on your body when you realised you were wearing a hoodie that was not yours. "Whose hoodie am I wearing?" You muttered to yourself as you tried to remember events before the game but only a dark and blank image came up.

"It's my hoodie," Jeno responded in a raspy voice and lazily pulled down the blanket to reveal his face.

"Jeno?" You asked, "where am I?"

"My room." He replied while sitting up straight on the bed, "and Sungchan's but I have no idea where he is." He looked at you for the first time and chuckled to himself.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, "why are you laughing?"

"Nothing." He denied with a faint smile.

"Listen, did I," you took a deep breath, "do anything weird last night? I seriously don't remember anything after we started playing."

He paused for a second and then answered. "Nope, you just passed out." His eyes glinted with a playful look. "Except, you did call me Jenoneno."

Your eyes widened as you covered your mouth in a gasped. That was your personal nickname for him! Your inner thoughts slipped out while you were drunk! "And that's it right?" You laughed nervously, waiting for his response.

"Yeah, that's it." He nodded at you and you let out a breath of relieved. "Do you want water by the way?"

"Yeah, that sounds nice."

Jeno got up from the bed, still in the same outfit as last night's and searched for an unopened water bottle but only found empty cans of energy drinks that he should've thrown out a couple days ago. "Sorry, there's none here. Be right back," he stopped just as he was about to exit the room, "oh, the bathroom's here if you wanna use it, and don't worry, it's clean," he exited out the room and closed the door.

You stretched out your limbs one more time over the bed before you made your way to the bathroom. Jenoneno. Jenoneno. Jenoneno. It echoed in your mind a million times while you washed your face with water over the sink. The realisation hit you as you turned off the tap, all the memories flooded back to you: you against his dick, pulling his pants down, and flashing your boobs at him. No wonder he put a hoodie on you. He was saving you from embarrassment! You could literally die from embarrassment right there and then. Gosh, you didn't even liked drinking but the atmosphere got you too carried away.

You came out of the bathroom and thought about escaping through the window but Jeno came back with a water bottle and a singular banana in his hand. Darn it! Plan down the drain.

"Do you want to go out for breakfast?" He handed the items to you. "I would've made you something but the kitchen's a mess."

"Thanks," you muttered as you accepted it. "And no, I just want to go back to my room."

"Ok, I'll drop you off." He grabbed his keys and helmet off the table and headed out the door but you stopped him.

"N-no. I can go back by myself." You stuttered.

"Are you sure?" He cocked his head, "it's not a problem for me. I have to go out either way."

"Ye-yeah, I wanna walk by myself, you know, enjoy nature and all." You explained to him with a nervous tone underneath your voice.

"O-kay," personally, he would've preferred to go with you, especially since you didn't seem like you were in peaked condition but he respected your wish at the end of the day. "I'll see you off at the door, then."

"No!" The tone of your voice accidentally went an octave higher. "You stay here, I'll go." You handed back the banana and water bottle to him.

Jeno pinched his eyebrows together at your actions. "Umm, I'll just see you at the do-"

"No. Please stay." He looked like a confused dog with the way you were talking to him. He wasn't offended or anything - simply confused. You stepped forward and so did Jeno but you really couldn't face him right now. "Stay." You stopped him from following you. "Please."

"The do-"

"Stay." You walked backwards as you made sure Jeno was planted in the same spot. "Good boy." And with that, you ran out the house the moment you exited the door while Jeno watched you from the window.

   "Why are you avoiding me?" He asked as he walked alongside you to the next location for the video - the campus garden. Even though he often felt awkward in front of the camera, your presence behind the camera and your constant encouragement gave him confidence and comfort to "act" in front of the lens. However, you were acting so differently today, almost as if you were avoiding him.

"I'm not." Your speed fastened up a bit when you felt his presence close to you. You absolutely were avoiding him. It took you a great strength of courage and screaming into your pillows before you dragged yourself to meet Jeno. "Ok, lighting seems good here." You played around with the camera and looked through the camera's viewfinder instead of him.

"You're still doing it." He teased you, seeing right through your facade. "Is this about yesterday?" He asked you.

"N-no. Ok, so now we're going to do the scene where yo-"

"yn," he pleaded in a serious tone that you've never heard before and gazed you with a sincere look in his eyes.

You smacked your dry lips and lowered down the camera, timidly nodded with an apologetic look on your face. "I'm sorry for harassing you like that. I don't know what I was thinking." You finally gained the courage to look at him in the eye.

He let out a hearty laughed and slung an arm around your shoulder, "it's fine, we all do stupid shit when we're drunk." He lifted your chin with a touch of his thumb when he noticed how quiet and sullen your face looked. "There was also a time when I got so drunk that I stole a kitten from its mommy and the next day she showed up and scratched me up real bad." He showed you the a small scar on his arm that was still visible.

"That's a cute story not an embarrassing one." Your lips jutted out just a bit.

He unslunged his arm from your shoulder and took your hands in his, tracing soft patterns on it. "There was a time we got so drunk that we trespassed a property to skinny dip in someone's house while they were having dinner."

"What?! Did they call the police or what?" You gasped in shocked at this revelation.

"Yeah they called the police on us," he laughed, "but jokes on them cause the police squad that they dispatched, coincidentally, ended up being my brother."

You snickered at his story, "that's a funny story, not an embarrassing one," and playfully rolled your eyes at him.

He hissed in a breath and held your hands even tighter in his, "we promised to take this to our graves but there was a time I was so shit drunk that I peed on Haechan."

"What?!" You screeched and scowled and moved his hands away from yours face "Ewwww, don't touch me."

"That was a long time ago!" He pointed out and tried to reach for your hands but you swatted him away.

"Don't touch me," you avoided his touch but he kept trying to grab it just to annoy you because of a grin on his face, so you ran away far away from him.

Jeno merely jogged behind you, "come back here. That's why I stopped drinking heavily!"

"Stay away from me." Although you tried to run as fast as possible, your speed was no match compared to Jeno's, a literal athlete, because he effortlessly caught up to you and tackled you on the ground within seconds. "No, no, disgusting, ew." You cried as he pinned you down on the dry grass.

"Shh, don't say that," his eyes widened and he placed a hand over your mouth, "people are going to get the wrong idea," and removed his hand from your lips. You realised that you were both in a compromising position since he hovered above you with knees straddled on either side of your body and his face was inches away from yours; his pupils dilated when you drowned in his eyes, you followed the movement of his gaze where it dropped down to your lips and back again to your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat.

   There was another secret that you had kept to yourself; there were days when your feelings for Jeno is so intense and the only way to let them out of their bubble was to write them down in your Jeno journal. It was a small, black notebook that fits into the palm of your hands, very safe and unassuming to an outsider's eye. You bring that little notebook everywhere with you, though there was a possibility of you losing it somewhere one day, at least you didn't write down his address and have someone mail it to him, that would be embarrassing. He was the only crush of yours that made it into your book.

Today was one of those days. You had just finished your violin practice with your club, which always left your neck strained and sore and even a little hickey on your neck from the long practice. You and Jeno had met up with your friends who were still skeptical of Jeno's intention with you so they grilled him to the bones but he answered everything with such ease that you almost believed that everything was real. The little subtle way that he touches you and takes care of you made your heart race but the moment it was just the two of you, the fantasy disperses because he casually mentioned that he had to leave and meet up with someone. That was the reality of your arrangement.

Your fingers flew across the page, word by word, when a knock on the door interrupted your trope of writing. You got up from the chair, thinking it was Ryujin who forgot to bring her key again but it was Jeno who stood at your door. "Jeno? Hi." You couldn't hide the surprise in your voice. "What are you doing here?"

"You accidentally left your water bottle with me." He handed you the item.

"Oh," wow, no wonder you felt parched even after drinking your iced peach lemon tea the entire day, "thanks Jeno, I needed it."

Jeno stood still at the doorway, observing the state of your room which was a lot more spacious than the average dorm room: the big lights were switched off, only your fairy lights, small lamp, and candles lit up the room in a warm embrace, a mini plant whose leaves gravitated towards the ground and another bed across from yours. "You have a cozy room. Who's your roommate?" He pointed to the bed.

"Thanks! It's Ryujin's but she's out right now."

"On the first floor? Damn, that's hard to get." Jeno knew that if he wasn't part of the ice hockey team, it would be difficult to get a spacious room like yours, especially if it was on the first floor.

"Yeah, they offered it to me when I came back in exchange of, you know, the possibility of not suing them." You explained the situation to him.

He laughed. "That's a pretty good trade."

"Eh, probably should've sued." You shrugged casually.

He looked around some more and noticed your pinboard that he could see from where he stood. There were polaroid pictures of you with your friends and family over the years with little tickets that decorated the board and he even recognised some mutual friends on your board like Chenle. One particular poloroid picture that stood out to him amidst the sea of them was the ice arena that was practically his second home; there was Yeji, Ryujin, Wonjin, Taerae, Chenle, and some other people he didn't recognised, and you, smiling brightly at the camera. He could tell this was taken way before you had even gotten pucked based on Chenle's blonde hair. There was a hollow heart ache that settled in his chest and a question that drummed in his mind, why hasn't he seen you before? There were a couple of other pictures of you at the ice arena but he could not believe he had never met you till you were pucked. A silent want to belong there. "You've been to quite a few of my games," he chuckled as he pointed it out.

"Yeah," you noticed his eyes were also looking around at your desk, where you left your Jeno journal out in the open, so you stealthily snapped it shut. Whew. "Dragged by friends for the experience or what not." Truth be told, you had never minded being dragged to his games even though you pretended to be against it, saying it was boring or just not your thing. You liked watching Jeno play and part of the reason you took plenty of poloroid pictures at his games was because you wanted a picture with him. He was always there in the background even though it was hard to see because he was far away but you knew and that was all you needed. You've seen girls going up to Jeno asking for pictures and he was always so sweet and never said no, you even contemplated asking for one too but felt too embarrassed because you were with your friends and you knew they wouldn't live it down. Just then, your tummy grumbled loudly on cue.

He chuckled at the sound of it. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, just one of those days. I'm probably going to make ramen after this." Even though it was the least appetising food that sounded right now.

"You wanna go out?" He asked you out of nowhere.

"This late at night?"

"There's a diner-style restaurant that's open nearby," he said, "they have really good burgers and milkshakes."

"You had me at milkshakes," already slipping on your hoodie that hung on the back of your chair.

"That was the last thing I said." He pointed out.

There was a natural routine that fell into place now that you often ride his bike with him: he helps you with your helmet then he does his, and you jump to the back while he's at the front and tightly hug around his waist before he motors off.

It was a short ride to the 24/7, diner-style restaurant, 90's Love. You had no idea how you missed this place because it had bright neon lights right in front of it - sometimes you miss the things that are right in front of you. You ordered their signature combo burger with loaded fries and strawberry milkshake while Jeno got a double-double burger for that extra protein and a coke.

"The burger is so good," you moaned in contentment as you chewed down another bite of the juicy burger. "The milkshake too!" You took turns sipping the strawberry milkshake and taking a bite out of the burger, a perfect combination.

"And the loaded fries," he stuffed a couple of fries, that was in between the two of you since you sat side by side in the booth so you both decided to share, down his mouth.

"Ooh, haven't tried the fries yet," you took a couple and copied him, "oh, that's good," you beamed happily.

"Got a little sauce on you," he wiped the sauce on the corner of your lip with his bare thumb and sucked the remnants of it before he went back to his burger.

Your heart throbbed at his casual yet intimate display of contact, now incredibly conscious of how close you were together, he probably does it for other people too. "I don't know if it's true or not," you said in between your bites, "but I heard Prof Sooyoung and your coach were a thing back in the day."

Jeno swallowed his bite. "Oh, they were. I think Haechan said that…" the rest of the night was filled with gossips, anecdotes and small laughers shared between the two of you with you gasping and lightly hitting him on the arm

"The last fry," you picked up the singular fry and waved it like a trophy, "you should have the honour because you just introduced me to my new favourite place."

"Wow, this is such an honour," a light sarcastic remarked from Jeno.

"Here you go," you held it in front of him but he didn't take it from you.

He looked at the golden fry and then at you, "feed it to me," his signature eye smile twinkled.

You playfully rolled your eyes, but you let him take the bite from your hand and he did it without dropping his eye contact on you. There was a beat of silence in the thickened air - and it wasn't just the smell of grease - you cleared your throat, "I need to wash my hands," and got up to go to the bathroom. There were no tissues inside the bathroom so you left your hands wet, because let's be real, you would rather have wet hands than use the hand dryer, ew.

Jeno washed his hands in the bathroom but he just wiped them on his pants. He noticed your wet hands and got up from his seat, "be right back," he went up to the counter and grabbed a couple of tissues.

"Hey Jeno," a guy entered with a couple of his friends dapped Jeno up. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, just grabbing a late night meal with my girlfriend." Oh. The word was foreign to him but he didn't hate the way it came out of him. Jeno reciprocated the handshake, it took him a second but he recognised that the person as the guy who occasionally plays basketball with Chenle and he had asked Jeno to be his model for his portrait back then but Jeno turned it down because Chenle asked him first. "How about you, Keeho?"

"Yeah, fresh off the court," he imitated a whooshing sound and threw an invisible basketball in front of him, "yo, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Can you be in my film assignment?"

"Sorry Keeho, yn already asked first." Jeno apologised apathetically.

"Oh." Keeho glanced at you who was sitting at the booth by yourself, "ok."

"See you around Keeho," and Jeno left with a stack of tissues in his hands and went to you. Without a word, he took your damp hands and wiped them with gentle care. You sat there wordlessly but let Jeno do his thing. "All done," a faint smile spread on his lips.

"Tha-thank you, Jeno." A bit embarrassed and shy that Jeno did that for you despite the fact that you were more than capable of doing it. "I could've done it myself."

"Yeah, but I wanted to do it," he hummed.

At that moment, Keeho and some of the other guys walked by with a gigantic bowl of delicious ice cream. Your mouth salivated at the sweet assortments on it even though you already had your milkshake. "Do you want dessert?"

"Not really into sweets but we can if you want." Jeno replied.

"Oh," the corner of your lips frowned at his response. "No, I don't want it."

"Are you sure?" Jeno asked as he saw the visible changed in your mood.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go back." The sparkling night sky blanketed the deserted parking lot with only a couple of dimly lit streetlights that decorated the lot. Jeno's humongous yet sleek motorbike shone under one of the streetlight and curiosity got the better of you. "Can you teach me how to ride your motorbike?"

He hissed at your question, "this bike is not exactly beginner friendly."

"Oh, please!" You put your hands together and begged him but he still shook his head. Then, you grabbed his hands and swung it side to side. "Please, please, please?" You fluttered your eyes at him.

He gulped his throat at your insistence and his heart skipped a beat, almost persuaded by your swaying. "No, it could be dangerous."

"Please, the parking lot is empty," you begged some more.

"Still, the bike-" He laced your hands in his and circled patterns on it.

You frowned in disappointment and tried to let go of his hands but he held onto it. "Fine then, I guess getting hit in the head was good enough." You touched your head and winced out a fake pain.

He laughed, "how long are you going to milk this?"

"Till you teach me how to ride your bike."

"Fine then," he admitted defeat and you cheered, "you're lucky you're pretty," he whispered to himself. "But you have to listen to me, it's for your own good," he reminded you in a " I mean business" voice.

"Sir, yes sir," you saluted Jeno with an upright body.

He playfully rolled his eyes at you. "Ok, helmet first no matter." He put on the protective gear on you and tightened it up. "Now, we can start."

Without a second to spare, you huddled in the front while Jeno stood to the side and started the engine. "This is brake and this is the accelarator,"and showed the two different handles on either side of the bar. "Pull down on this clutch and place your foot on the shifter," he gently directed your limbs to where you needed to go. "Just give the accelerator a bit of a boost and lean in the direction you want to go, like riding a bike, got that?" He asked you.

"Got it." You gave him a thumbs up, nervous yet excited to drive the exotic vehicle.

"Be careful, ok?" He asked you once more before he let go.

"Ok, here I go." The motorbike moved at a snail's pace and the motorbike jerked when you gave it a boost but you kept on going like Jeno said, "ah!"

"You're good, just keep on going!" It was a freeing feeling to be one with the wind!

"Don't go too fast!" Jeno reminded as he watched you go in circles in the empty parking lot.

You felt more confident with the motorbike and boosted it faster around the empty parking lot. "This is so much fun!" You smiled happily when you felt the cold breeze against your face. "How do I stop?"

"Slow down and come to me." He guided you towards him and you followed his directions. Once you were near him, Jeno shifted the gears and switched off the engine for you. "How was it?"

"Exhilarating!" You commented with a bright beamed on your face. "Can I drive back?" There was a glow of excitement on your face. "I think I can handle this."

"Babe, you don't have a license and I'm not about to get in trouble for this." You frowned but Jeno gave in when he saw your sullen expression. "Fine, maybe when we're on campus and near the dorm, then you can drive." Jeno took over the front seat as you scooted to the back and hugged his waist in a tight embrace - you were his backpack.

There was a new profound appreciation now that you knew how challenging it was to ride a motorbike and how Jeno effortlessly slips inbetween cars and traffic. Just as Jeno promised, once your dorm building was within your viewshot, you took over while Jeno sat at the back. Your stomach flipped when Jeno pulled you into his embrace from the back. "First time in this position," he commented. You recalled his earlier lesson and drove back to your dorm, more confident and smoother than your first time.

"We're here princess." You joked and stopped the vehicle in front of your dorm building, Jeno switched off the engine from behind you and kicked the stand into place.

Jeno got off from the bike first and then lifted you off the motorbike with one hand. "Thank you for driving me home," he played along and his eyes twinkled as he took off the helmet for you, his fingers lingering a second too long on your hair.

   There was something missing in all the videos you've shot; you compiled all the footages you've made so far and organised them in chronological order according to your script on your laptop. Your fingers tapped on the table as you watched the videos one more time. It was good so far but there was no umph element to capture the audience's interest. You groaned out loud in the empty dorm room by yourself.

It was a Friday night, meaning Jeno had another match tonight. Sungchan's girlfriend, Shuhua, had invited you to sit join and watch the game with them, only to be met with a disappointed yet understanding sighed when you said you were never going to any of his games ever again. Even your friends including Ryujin and Yeji went out to watch the game tonight. You checked the time and the tournament hadn't started yet so you called him on your phone and waited for him to pick up the call. Even though you've never been to any of his games ever since you two became a "couple," you fell into a natural routine of texting or calling him before he started his game to wish him luck.

The phone rang a couple of times, "hey," he spoke a little bit out of breath, presumably just finished warm up.

"Hey! Is the game starting soon?" Your tone naturally perked up brighter upon hearing his voice.

"Soon. Was just warming up." The rhythm of his tone went back to normal. "Why? Are you coming?" He asked in a hopeful tone.

"Hmm, no, I'm not coming. I have to review the footage we have so far." Your tone was slightly down.  

What's wrong?" He noticed your sullen tone over the phone. "Do we need to reshoot anything? I can squeeze sometime next week." He offered without even you asking for it.

"No, the scenes are perfect." You exhaled an exhausted sigh. "But somethings missing, there's no hook to reel people in." You placed your head down sideways on your desk and laid your phone on your ear.

"Well, what are others doing for their hook?" Even though his voice was still audible, the chatter and hollering in the background grew louder.

"My friend's doing something with toxic love so she's hooking them in with a makeout session."

"Well, sex always sells." He absentmindedly commented.

You lifted your head off the desk and held your phone in your hand again as an idea popped in your head when Jeno said that. "Jeno, can I see you after the game?" You asked in the sweetest voice you could muster.

"Uhm, sure, I'll drop by after the ga-" He answered with a bit of uncertainty since you had never asked to see him right after the game.

"No, I'll come to you!" You quickly inserted. "Please don't change out of your uniform by the way."

"Don't change out of my uniform?" Jeno was puzzled with your request but it seemed simple and innocent enough.

"Yes! Good luck Jeno!" You wished him luck.

You couldn't tell but he had a smile on his face. "Thanks, see you after the game."

From your previous experiences of going to a hockey game, you knew how long a game took and how much longer for the audience to dispersed from the arena, so you timed it perfectly that by the time you arrived at the arena, you only saw Jeno who lazily drifted the puck with his stick by himself.

"Is it safe for me to come in?" You barely raised your voice but the empty arena echoed your question.

All you heard was a hearty laughter from him, "yeah, come on in, babe." The casual mentioned of the pet name when no one was around made butterflies swirled around in your tummy. Oh, this was so going in the diary. You descended down the metal stairs of the arena until you reached Jeno who was still in his stakes on the ice rink. The stick and puck were safely tucked away, only him and the goal post were on the frozen ground.

"Hi! How was the game?" You greeted him from the dry area.

"It was good, we won." He greeted you with his signature eye smile, "also hi." He took your hand with his gloved one and carefully held onto it. You were face to face with each other and could see his drenched, flat hair and sweat that dripped on his temples; a complete contrast to your sweat-free appearance. A comfortable stretched over the atmosphere but you grew shyer when you felt Jeno's never ending intense gaze on you.

"Is the locker room empty by the way?" You asked to direct your shyness somewhere else.

"The locker room?" Jeno tilted his head to the side because he was still unsure of your plans.

"Yeah, I wanna film in the locker room."

"Oh, ok, sure, the boys are changing though." He replied without wavering his eye contact on you. "Give it a couple of minutes, they'll leave. Do you want to skate while we wait?" He asked with a hint of excitement in his tone.

"Sure, but it's been so long since I last skated." You nodded your head at him.

He chuckled as he got off from the icy floor to the dry, may area with his skates on and grabbed an extra pair of skates from behind one of the chairs. Then, he walked back to you and guided you to the chair. Even though he was still padded up with all his gear, with much difficulty, he bent down on one knee and laced up the pair of ice skates on you. "All done," he beamed up at you with an eye smile on his face.

You held onto Jeno's hand while you cautiously stepped on the frozen ground. The sharpness of the blade slipped, which made you wobbled but you were holding onto Jeno so you didn't fall. Jeno took off his gloves and dumped it somewhere, he then grabbed your cold, soft hands with his warm ones and skated backwards. The skates on your feet glided with ease as he dragged you around the rink with two hands; your feet grew familiar with the rhythm of the skates and you eventually let go of Jeno's hands and glided on your own. "I'm doing it!" You cheered brightly and Jeno mirroed the same smile as he continued skating backwards.

"Show off," you teased him when he effortlessly skated in circles around you while you skated at a slow pace.

Jeno simply laughed and continued to prey around you. "Let's race," he whispered beside your ear which left a tingling sensation in your body.

"Wanna bet?" You confidently proposed.

"Loser buys winner a drink?" He suggested.

"Deal, give me a head start." You weren't going to back down from a race even though it was your first time skating in forever.

"Is ten seconds good enough?" He positioned himself beside you.

"More than enough to beat you." You replied with a cocky attitude and steadied yourself next to him.

"From this end to the goalpost," he pointed to the goalpost on the other side of the rink.

"Got it." The distance was doable enough for you and you had deluded yourself into thinking you might even win because Jeno was giving you a head start.

"Ready, set, go." His skates were planted to the ice whereas you instantly dashed off from your starting position.

"One," Jeno counted down the seconds till it was his turn to dash off.

"Two," shoot! You weren't even a quarter way from your initial position - your pace was slower than you intended.

"Three," you gradually gained traction and you were skating with the ice and not against it.

"Four," almost halfway there! You looked back and Jeno had a proud smile with his eyebrows raised at you.

"Five," halfway there! You were practically gliding and tried to keep up with the momentum.

"Six," the goalpost was now clearer in view.

"Seven," you attempted to slow down your skates but was too scared at the speed you were going. Should've learned how to stop first!

"Eight," your eyes widened when you saw just how close the the metal goalpost was and tried to stop the skates like you've seen the way players do it but failed to replicate it and your knees wobbled.

"Nin-shit," Jeno finally caught on that you were most likely going to crash into the metal goalpost at the speed you were going, and he wasn't going to let you injure yourself under his watch, not again, and zoomed towards you within milliseconds, snatched you by the waist and turned you around so his back was facing the goalpost and was able to stop just a few inches short from the goalpost. "Got you," he whispered as his chest heaved up and down, his eyes flickered to your lips then to your eyes and so did yours. Both of your heads tilted closer to each other, a breath's away from a kiss, when the locker room door banged loudly against the empty arena.

"Oh! Someone's girlfriend is here!" Mark hollered when he spotted the two of you on the rink. You jolted away from Jeno's touch as more of his teammates exited the locker room.

"Awww!" Serim gushed at the sight of you two looking all lovey dovey. "What a cute couple!"

"He's so whipped!" Sungchan yelled.

"He was crying because she wasn't here!" Haechan evilly cackled.

You took a step back from Jeno as heat crawled up the back of your neck from embarrassment, while Jeno's ears turned red from the watchful eyes of his teammates.

"Don't get nasty guys! We all use the locker room." Haechan chortled followed by a chorus of boisterous laughter.

Jeno noticed a discomforted expression on your face and yelled back at them, "shut up." The guys only cackled like evil witches and even stuck out their tongue at Jeno before they hurriedly exited out the premise. They knew that Jeno knew that they were only brave enough to tease him like that because he couldn't physically get to them.

"Sorry about them, they're just weird like that," Jeno apologised sheepishly. "On the bright side, the locker room's free now." He remarked now that the whole arena was quiet again.

The embarrassment and shyness slowly faded away and was replaced with a playful glint in your eyes once you saw how close you were to the goalpost. "Ok," you replied and pretended to head to the exit but instead dashed for the goalpost. "I won!" You cheered happily and waved your hands in the air. "You have to buy me a drink!"

"You cheated!" Jeno's jaw dropped in disbelief but his eyes gleamed at your attitude.

"You're just jealous because I beat the star player at his own game," you patted his back in a pitiful way and glided away to the exit, leaving him by himself.

Jeno scoffed and poked his tongue out against his cheek before he quickly caught up to at the exit. Once again, he held your hands as he guided you to the chair and untied your skates first before he did his - the butterflies made an appearance in your stomach all over again over this simple action. Afterwards, Jeno brought you to the locker room when the mustiness and putrid scent of fresh sweat assaulted your nose. "Ugh," you pinched your nose. "Men smell."

"You get used to it." Jeno snickered in amusement. "So, what are we doing here?"

Right! Filming! "We're going to film the hook scene here in the locker room." You switched on the camera and played around with the angles and lighting to get the perfect view.

"Of…?" He trailed off as he stood there waiting for further instructions.

You cleared your throat for a second and answered in a soft voice, a contrast to your cocky attitude earlier. "Of you taking off your clothes," you pretended to fiddle around with the buttons and angles of the camera and refused to look him in the eyes.

Jeno offered a mischievous grin, "doll, you know you could've just asked me for a picture and I would've given it to you." you were avoiding his eye contact but his eyes followed your gaze everywhere you went. Cute. "You don't have to pretend it's for the assignment."

"It is for the assignment!" You insisted and met his gaze head on. "I need something to lure in the audience."

"Hmm," he hummed while he stroked his chin with a permanent smirk stiched on his face, "or you just wanted a topless video of me." He suggested in a raspy tone.

You shook your head at him, "it's for the assignment, it's the same thing you did for Chenle for his anatomical portrait."

Jeno's eyes scrutinised you with suspicions,"how do you know about the portrait?" The portrait assignment was a few semesters back for an elective class of Chenle's and he begged on his knees for Jeno to be his model, and Jeno agreed if it was only seen by the professor.

"He showed it to everyone." Chenle didn't show it to everyone, he accidentally left his sketchbook opened and you saw the page with Jeno's portrait on it, and maybe you snapped one or two pictures of it. Maybe.

"Wow, I need to have a word with him." He frowned slightly at the information given.

Oh crap! Did you just get Chenle in trouble? "He was just proud of it, no need to hound him about it," you awkwardly laughed. "Now, let's get started. All you need to do is take off your gear like normal, like I'm not even here," you explained the hook scene to him.

"How can I not notice a pretty girl with a camera pointing right at me?" He muttered too low for you to hear, but prepped himself in front of the locker while you started recording. The easy part was shedding of his jersey first, then protective gears off his shoulders and knee pads, until he was left with a tight compression shirt that hugged him deliciously and made his pecs stand out even more. From there on, you moved the camera closer to him and waited for him to rip off, take off, the shirt. Jeno made a show of tilting his head back as he took off his shirt, revealing the ridged abs that glistened under the fluorescent light. You took the time to film his body from his pecs all the way down to his faint happy trail. For the assignment.

"All done." You stopped filming since you were more than satisfied with the footage you had recorded. "Thanks Jeno! I'll wait outside while you get ready."

"Wait!" He caught your wrist before you could leave the locker room, "I know you said you won't ever go to my games ever again and I get it," he let go of your wrist and opened his locker to take a fresh and clean hockey jersey with the number "23" on it - Jeno's jersey. "If you ever change your mind one day, this is for you."

Ever since that day, something had shifted. Texts between you and Jeno usually consisted of "hi, are you free to film?" and a variation of "yes" or "no." Now? Jeno took the liberty to text you random questions about your day and when you asked him about his? He sent pictures to you: pictures of his food, pictures of him in class, pictures of him at practice, pictures of him shirtless at the gym, and pictures of him shirtless in bed. It left you flabbergasted when his texts became increasingly revealing and slightly more on the flirtier side but not once did he mentioned those shirtless pictures of him in bed whenever you two met up; he never acted differently towards you and kept it light and breezy.

   "Where's your girlfriend?" Chenle mocked Jeno while he's sprawled all over Jeno's bed, scrolling on his phone.

Meanwhile, Jeno laid on the floor with his arm behind his head, scrolling through pictures of you when a text from a girl he had been seeing popped up, im so stress rn. "Working on her assignment," he replied in a bored tone.

"Yo, when's your movie done? Can't wait to watch it with the boys." Haechan spun around in Jeno's computer chair.

Jeno closed his eyes for a second before replying to Haechan. "It's not a movie, it's an assignment and we're still not done filming." Another text came in, come over n work out my knots. "I think she's working on editing some of the parts right now."

"Whatever, can't wait for it either way." Haechan geeked out.

u know where to find me

"I didn't know she edits." Chenle commented absentmindedly.

Otw rn, was the only response he gave and got up from the floor. He reached for his hoodie and leather jacket off his closet then grabbed his helmet and keys. "Ah, she said someone else is helping her with the editing part."

"Cool. Who?"

"I don't know. Later guys," Jeno opened the door in a hurry to step out but Chenle's question stopped him.

"Oh come on, if she's your girlfriend you must know who's helping her with the editing. That's boyfriend 101." Chenle remarked.

He furrowed his eyebrows and tried to remember the name, "some person named Bae something."

"Bae Jinyoung?" Chenle shrieked.

"Yeah, I think that's the one." Jeno replied with no thought with one foot out the door. "You know him?"

Chenle scoffed. "Do I know the person on campus with the sexiest thighs? Hell yeah, I do."

"And he always looks like he just basked in the sweet sun with that tan of his." Haechan whistled out loud.

Jeno slowly retreated his foot back from the door. "So you guys do know him?"

"Yeah, super good looking and super nice." Haechan remarked.

"It's quite late, but don't worry, you can trust that guy." Chenle commented. "Good thing she's dating you because I would be worried if she was single," he threw Jeno a cheesy wink.

"Yeah, he's got a certain charm, we should hang out more with him." Haechan commented.

Sungchan stepped into the room with his duffle bag. "'Sup guys, what's happening?" and dropped his huge bag without a thought.

"Bae Jinyoung." Chenle said.

"Great guy." Sungchan commented. "We paired up for an elective and he got me hooked with content creation. What about him?"

"Bae Jinyoung is helping Jeno's girl with her video." Haechan explained.

"She's in good hands then." He clicked his tongue. Jeno's stomach churned at the comments, he glanced down at the phone when his phone flashed a topless picture but now that was the furthest thing from his mind. What if you fell in love with Bae Jinyoung? So what? You were free to see other people if you wanted to and so was he but why did it hurt at the thought of you with someone else? Why does it…Jeno shook his head and stopped himself from that train of thought. You guys were friends and friends can check up and care about each other, right?

"Why do you look sad bro?" They all asked him as a sullen expression shadowed his face.

Jeno left the room without an explanation. He jumped on motorbike and let the vehicle lead him to you; he remembered you mentioning that you were going to be in the media room to work on the video. Listen, he has no idea where the hell the media room but no rooms will be left unopened.

Why was there more than one media room? The university was built like a maze and he thought he had hit the jackpot when he found the Media Room, apparently, the entire building was the Media Room? What the fuck?

Two bodies slouched over the screen together, analysing the same footage over and over again, turned their attention towards the door when it creaked opened to a sweaty Jeno. "Jeno?" You whispered, a bit concerned at Jeno's sudden appearance.

"You ok, dude?" Bae Jinyoung asked.

Despite the fact it was late at night, the Media Room was brightly lit under the fluorescent light, with soft music playing from someone else's computer since there were also other people working in the same area since anyone was welcomed to to use the facility. You and Jinyoung were huddled in front of a computer, side by side, with hands to yourself. It was obvious you guys had been doing this for awhile because some of your notebooks were scattered on the computer desk. For some strange reason, a wave of relief went through Jeno's body, he wasn't sure what he was expecting but the guys made it sound so bad that he had to come and check up on you. Just in case. He cleared his throat and offered a light smile, "yeah, I'm good."

"What are you doing here? It's late." You asked while he pulled up a chair and snugged it in between yours and Jinyoung's and manspreaded his legs.

"Craving a midnight snack," he asked, "you guys want anything? My treat." He took out his phone and scrolled through the food delivery app.

"Sure man," Jinyoung replied, "Jinyoung," he extended his hand to Jeno.

"Jeno," and they did their little brofist hand shake thingy that every men knows about despite meeting for the first time, "yn's boyfriend."

You cocked your head a bit at his odd behaviour but didn't say anything about it. "You could've just ordered from you dorm?"

"My room was invaded," Jeno responded with a simple answer and hung his arm over the back of your chair. He checked out the food after you and Jinyoung added your meals to the cart. "So, what do we have here?"

"In the middle of editing, let me show you." Jinyoung went on a passionate and detailed talk on the editing process and you chimed in with your thoughts here and there, while Jeno followed your discussion at first but later zoned out as he traced the several lines on your palm - from your wrist to your fingertips.  His line of sight ended right on Jinyoung's thick and muscular thighs which was visible even under those denim jeans. Damn, he does have sexy thighs.

"Wait yn, what kind of effect did you want for this scene?" Jinyoung asked you.

"Sorry, wait, it's easier for me to show you, I have visual references in my notebook." You took out your notebook one by one, including your small diary, from your bag because the notebook you were looking was deep within the bag. "Here it is!" And you showed the visual references to Jinyoung.

A buzzing sound interrupted the discussion you guys were having, someone was calling Jinyoung. "Sorry, my girlfriend's calling, be right back." Jinyoung excused himself out of the room.

"Are you sure you're comfortable Jeno?" Your soft breath in Jeno's ear tingled him just a bit. "Theres a couch if you want to lie down." Within five minutes of you and Jinyoung working on the video, you noticed how Jeno tuned out of your conversation and played with your hands instead.

"I'm good." He pinched your cheek as he stroked your hands in his, which made you shy on the inside. "Food's almost here, be right back."

"Wait, let me go with you. I need a break either way," you got up from your seat and shoved your notebooks and other things that were on the computer desk in your bag and left the room with Jeno without realising that your small diary didn't make it to your bag, instead, it fell underneath a computer desk.

   The worst part of being a woman was the period cramps. Well, aside from the fear of interacting with an unknown male individual and unknowingly triggering its fragile male ego and fearing for your life but that's neither here nor there. It was like a sharp knife stabbed you right in the tummy and twisted the insides till you died a thousand small deaths only for you to relive the experience it all over again. Hence, you and Ryujin laid on your bed as you ate chocolates and watched a classic romcom on the laptop, giggling and squealing at the cliche parts, while the heating pad on your belly eased your mind and body from the period cramp. All the small talks in between the giggling while you watched the movie almost made you miss the knock on your window.

"Did you hear that?" You asked Ryujin because you were sure you heard something knocked but you only heard the stretched of the indoor wind.

"Nope, I don't he-" Knock, knock. Your body shivered when you heard the knock from somewhere again. There it was again. Both you and Ryujin looked at each other but stayed completely still until a familiar voice spoke behind the window.

"Are you awake? It's me, Jeno." A voice spoke out behind the window. You slumped your shoulders and headed to the window to open it. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Jeno with his black hoodie and a duffel bag that slung over his shoulders. It had been awhile since you last saw Jeno because you had gotten busy with other assignments and Jeno with practice and his away games over the weekends.

"What are you doing here this late at night?" You leaned closer to him.

Instead of responding with a "hi" or a "hello," Jeno cupped your face in the palm of his hands and kissed you on the lips. His lips were soft, although a bit dry, but it had that addicting taste which you couldn't get enough of. Was that your first kiss with him? You didn't realised how much you actually missed him because you chased his lips even deeper and was lost in his touch.

"Ahem-ahem," Ryujin loudly faked coughed to get both of your attention. She had never seen you like this with a guy.

Your lips separated from each other but Jeno gave you one last peck. "You taste like chocolate." He commented, his eyes drowned in yours.

"Just ate some," you bit your lips from the way he looked at you.

"Ahem-ahem," Ryujin faked coughed again while her arms were crossed as she tapped her foot against the floor. "Jeno."

"Ryujin." He finally acknowledged Ryujin's presence and gave her a slight nod.

"Ever heard of texting?" She rolled her eyes but was severely relieved that it was just Jeno and not some sort of psycho by the window. It was truly one of the disadvantages of staying on the ground floor of the building.

"Wanted to surprise her." He tucked a locked of your hair behind your ear and pinched your cheek which made heat crawled up your neck. "Wanna go for a ride? We can drop by the diner." He asked as he played with your hand.

You pouted. "Sorry Jeno, not tonight. I'm not feeling well."

Jeno's hand instinctively went to your forehead to feel your temperature. "Your body feels normal," he commented after a few seconds but his hand remained on your forehead.

You chuckled lightly, "it's my period cramps," you took his hand that was on your forehead and guided it to your lower abdomen.

"Does it still hurt?" Jeno pressed a bit of pressure on it as he massaged in a circular pattern.

A small moaned came out of you when you felt the pressure of Jeno's fingers on your lower abdomen. "Yeah, but I'll get over it." It sucked but it was routine at this point.

"Let me help you." He continued massaging you through the window.

You held his hand that was massaging you and stopped him, "you don't need to, I have heating pads for it."

"I want to," he pouted at you. It was hard to draw a line with him if he was being this nice. "Please," he begged and kissed your knuckles.

"I have to ask Ryujin first. We have this "No Boys" in the room policy." You subtly glanced at Ryujin.

Ryujin heard the entire thing and sighed. "Just stay but no funny business!" She warned Jeno and gave him a menacing side-eye. "You're lucky I have to finish up my assignment." She went to her study table across from yours, put on her headphones and dived into her laptop.

"Thanks," Jeno smiled at Ryujin's response and jumped in through the window, all while he held your hand. He took off his duffel bag from his shoulders and placed it down on the floor. "Movie night?" He commented when he saw the paused scene on the laptop screen on your bed.

"Yeah, makes me forget about the pain." You moved the laptop and sat on your bed; Jeno mirrored your action and sat beside you but pulled you on his lap and wrapped you in his arms. One hand was on your lower abdomen and massaged it like he did before. "What movie do you want to watch?" You pulled your laptop in your lap and scrolled through the categories.

"Any." He leaned back against your headboard and drew you in between his legs as he massaged you, while you picked a random movie to watch and let it play in the background. His fingers kneaded you right where you needed them and eased up your cramps. "How's this?" He whispered in the shell of your ear.

"Better," you hummed a contended sighed. "When did you get back?" Your back leaned even more to his chest.

"Just now." He continued to massage your lower abdomen with both hands.

You let out a confused sound and looked at him. "Aren't you tired? Heard the place was quite far."

There was a faint smile on his face, "slept on the bus." He kissed the side of your temple and muttered, "besides, I missed you."

With that simple action, your heart skipped a beat at the casualness of it all. Your once bitter feelings for him disappeared when he was around. The both of you stayed like that for awhile, tangled in each other's arms while you guys watched the movie. Although Jeno's massage did help you a bit, the pain was still present and persistent. Like you needed something heavy to squash it down. "Jeno, it still hurts." You mumbled against his chest.

"Hm?" He leaned in closer to hear you better. "Still? Do you want aspirin?"

"No," you shook your head. "I just need something to sit on top of it. I think my textbooks might work." You lifted yourself Jeno but he didn't let you go fetch your heavy textbooks.

"What if I lay on top of you?" He asked. "Think it would work?"

"We can try." So, you switched positions with Jeno in between your legs, his body heat and weight radiated off him and helped eased the period cramps. Meanwhile, you ran your fingers through his hair and threaded it and scratched it as the faint noise played in the background.

When you woke up the next morning, it felt cold to no longer have the warm presence that was on you; the warmness from Jeno and the coziness of your bed lulled you to sleep and you didn't even realised you dozed off in the middle of watching the movie. You stretched out your limbs and yawned, your muscles and body were already feeling much better today compared to yesterday, and went to grab your water bottle on your desk. There was your laptop laid neatly on your desk, you assumed Jeno had switched it off and placed it there before he left, with a sticky note on it. Sorry, had to leave without telling u, didn't want to disturb ur sleep. Call me when u wake up - Jeno.

Your emotions swirled at the simple message he left behind and you bit back a giggle because Ryujin was still asleep in her bed. You were too busy gushing and rereading his note again and again that you didn't realised there was a new poloroid picture of the said note leaver on your board which you did not put up.

   There was only one bed. A decent sized queen bed, nevertheless, it was only one bed. "Um - there's only bed." You pointed out to Jeno.

"Yeah." He replied without looking and settled down the bags on the floor, and shrugged of his jacket.

It was easy to avoid relationship questions for one night, but to avoid it over the whole weekend was impossible. Jeno's hockey team arranged a staycation at a villa a couple of hours away from campus to strengthen their bond and unwind for a weekend. Even though it was a team gateaway, it was also an excuse for most of them to bring their girlfriend or whoever they wanted on the trip with them.

 "Is there any room with two beds?" You sat your half empty iced peach lemon tea on the side table. "Someone we can switch with?" You asked him.

He chuckled, "I think that would raise suspicions, don't you think?"

"Oh." You clamped your mouth shut when Jeno pointed that out.

"All the rooms in the villa only have a king-sized bed or a queen-sized one." Jeno elaborated.

It was a gorgeous and fun villa by the beach and there was an indoor pool, a hot tub, a gaming room filled with arcade games, a pool table, a tennis table, a gorgeous kitchen with an outdoor kitchen and fire pit outside.

"Woah, you guys can afford this?"

"It's one of Chenle's vacation house." Jeno commented. "He was going to join but then he has last minute rehearsals for his play."

The rest of the day was filled with the whole team exploring the local town and you all came back and played in the gaming room. Everyone was spread out either competing in different games while you teamed up with Jeno for the table tennis doubles match.

"Woah! Let's go!" You exclaimed when Haechan and Chaeryeong missed another one of your shots.

Jeno high-fived you with the paddle, "you're going down Lee," which ignited a whole level of competitive spirit for Haechan and Chaeryeong but it sucked for them because you and Jeno were on fire and easily won the game.

"Rematch!" Haechan yelled out of dissatisfaction.

The heated match had left everyone hungry and tired so by the time the sun had set, all the guys were grilling the meats outside in the cold, while you and the rest of the girls were in the kitchen preparing the drinks and some snacks while gossiping. You had rarely crossed paths with them before you became Jeno's "girlfriend," but they were all super sweet and welcomed you like you were always part of them.

"We never see you at the games." Shuhua frowned as she stirred in the random juice concoction that she made.

You felt heat crawled up to your neck as all the girls' attention were on you. "I don't go to his games."

"Oh yeah, trauma, forgot those existed." Shuhua jokingly hit her head and you laughed.

"You know Jeno's always looking for you." Chaeryeong piped up while she cut up some fruits. "You should join us one day, we'll protect you," and fed you some fruits.

Was he waiting for you to show up to his games?

"By the way, how'd you get this guy to date?" Shuhua leaned in closer and so did all the other girls, interested in what magic you put him under to commit to a relationship.

Just then, Haechan, Serim and Jeno walked in with a tray full of smoked meats, "it's freezing cold out there," Haechan walked in to the kitchen all jumpy and blew warm air to his hands while Jeno and Serim set the tray full of meats down.

"It looks so good!" Chaeryeong's eyes bulged at the sight of meats and nimbled on one.

"Are you guys done grilling the meat?"

"There's still a lot more, wanted to give this to you girls first," Jeno stood next to you and fed you a piece of meat, "how is it?"

The smoky flavoured marinated really well with each other and the more you chewed it, there was a spicy after kick to it. "It's so good," and you gave him a thumbs up and fed you another piece once you were done with the first one.

"What were you guys up to?" Serim stole a piece of fruit.

"She was about to tell us how she got Jeno to date," Shuhua wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"You poisoned him or something?" Haechan jokingly suggested.

You decided to play it cool and nodded your head. "He took a sip of my secret potion, one taste and he was mine." You started off all serious and melancholic as if you were telling them your story, everybody was locked in to your story. "For a spell that can't be broken, one drop should be enough." You dramatically sighed and gazed at Jeno and held his chin with your thumb and index finger, his heart skipped a beat. "Boy, you belong to me."

Everyone including Haechan jumped in, "I got the recipe, and it's called black magic."

Everyone jumped up and down as they sang but Jeno, "take sip of a secret potion! One taste and you'll be mine! For a spell that can't be broken, it'll keep you up all night! Boy, you belong to me! I got the recipe! And it's called black magic!"

The first night ended on a high note with everyone joking and eating the delicious food, and everyone went to bed with a happy tummy. It was a bit awkward when you and Jeno were deciding on your sleeping arrangements since he's only ever helped you with your period cramps. Jeno was stubborn and insisted on sleeping the floor while you took the bed.

"Jeno, I'll sleep on the floor, you take the bed." You said with a concerned tone. "I know you have a tournament next week."

"It's nothing I'm not used to," he shrugged your concerned off and dozed off on the floor with the blanket. Maybe it was better this way because you think you would combust if you ended up sleeping with Jeno. At som point during the night, you got up from the bed to go to the bathroom and accidentally stepped on Jeno in the darkness of the room. "Oomf," Jeno grunted.

"Sorry Jeno," you apologised, not realising how close he was beside your bed. When you came back from the bathroom, you felt bad watching Jeno turn and twist in different directions on the hard floor even though there was a carpet underneath him to cushion the hardness. "Jeno, come to bed with me," you whispered in his ears.

He lazily shook his head with his eyes closed. "It's fine," he muttered.

"No you're not. I don't want you to be in pain because of me." You replied in a worried tone and held his hand. "Please," you begged him.

"Ok," his hushed tone carried loud enough in the darkness of the room. He got up from the floor with his blanket and laid down on the right side of the bed while you slept on the other - respectable distance between the two of you.

"Night Jeno," you turned the other way, so he can't see you ugly sleep your way through the night.

"Night doll," he settled in comfortably.

The morning sun seeped through your eyelids and your eyes fluttered open. You tried to get up but you felt a heavy and warm presence wrapped around you; Jeno's face was nuzzled in the crook of your neck you and his arms and legs were tightly sprawled all over you - bringing you even closer when he felt you moved. "Um, Jeno," you whispered not wanting to disturb him from his slumber but you just wanted to get up from the bed, "are you awake?" You asked Jeno who had his eyes closed.

"Hmmm," he groaned and pulled you in even tighter. Your eyes widened in shyness when you felt his morning wood buldged on your ass. What the heck?!

"Jeno," you whispered one more time in hope that he would wake up, "can you please let go of me?"

"Five more minutes," he mumbled with his eyes closed and inhaled the scent of your skin as you accepted defeat and melted back into a deep slumber.

You weren't sure how long you fell asleep for but it didn't matter because it was definitely one of the best sleep you had gotten in awhile. You chuckled when you found that Jeno was wrapped like a burrito, still asleep, and you realised all those late afternoon replies to your morning messages made sense - he was a deep sleeper. So you went off and washed up, had your first meal of the day, and Shuhua invited you to come along with her and Sungchan, since everyone already left the house to explore more of the local town, but you declined and told her you would meet up with them later with Jeno once he was awake.

You made your way back to yours and Jeno's shared room, expecting for him to still be asleep, only to be greeted with him fresh from the shower with only a towel that hung dangerously low on his waist.

"Morning sleepyhead," he greeted you with a smile as he dried his hair with a small towel.

Your eye shifted here and there before you decided to narrow in on his ear - yeah, that would be a good spot. "Morning sleepyhead," you lightheartedly mocked him. "They all went out to town by the way, told Shuhua and Sungchan that we would meet them there." Yeah, keep it cool girl.

"Ok, I'll get ready and then we can head there together. I think Chenle has an atv somewhere, we can ride that if it's in good condition." Jeno rambled but you were my paying attention to his words anymore. Instead, your eyes wondered the deep lines of his abs and his juicy pecs paired up with his beefy biceps, yum!

Get your head out of the gutter! It was still hard for you to make eye contact with him considering how naked he was. Yes, you've seen him shirtless but he had pants on the last time you saw him like this! Who knows what's underneath that towel. Even through the thick material, you can vaguely make out the shape of his dick. How hung was this guy?

The corner of Jeno's lips tugged upwards as he wiped away a drool on your lips; he couldn't pretend to not notice the intensity of your stares anymore. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." He teased you and you could only feel the embarrassment of getting caught.

He smirked, "you can touch it if you want," and brought your hand over the hard ridges of his abs and didn't let go of it.

You followed his sightline and stopped at where his huge dick laid underneath the towel. "Wouldn't it be weird?"

He loosened his grip on your wrist but didn't let go of it. "It doesn't have to be," and laid your hand on line of his abs and let it rest there - waiting for you to make your choice.

Maybe it was all those repressed desires for Jeno because your fingers moved down by itself and played with the hems of the loose towel, while Jeno stood still with an amused expression on his face. You looked up at him with an uneased expression, only for Jeno to give a nod of encouragement. You gave the towel a little tug and it instantly fell on the floor, revealing his big, pink dick. Your jaw dropped at the mere size of it and its mushroom top while it laid all soft. "Can I touch it?" You whispered.

Jeno brought your hand to his cock and rubbed it up and down. "I'm yours to touch." You wrapped your hand around his warm dick and Jeno winced in pain. "Not too tight."

"Oops, sorry." You were intrigued with the way his cock was slowly hardening under your touch; the pink tip curved upwards and your eyes glinted with list.

"Spit on it." Jeno instructed. You gathered the saliva in your mouth and spat it all out on his warm dick. The slimy and wet sensation left Jeno feeling breathless. The tip of his dick looked appetising with the precum that leaked from the tip so you bent down on your knees and licked it and tasted the saltiness of the liquid on your tongue.

You sucked the tip in an agonising slow pace, savouring every single drop and moan that came out of Jeno. He tugged on your hair and pulled it back, "don't tease," he whined. There was a mischievous smirk as you wanted to see him break apart under your touch so you dragged your tongue down his dick and he could only hold on to your scalp in desperate agony. Your tongue trailed up and down, up and down his dick until you reached the tip and sucked it harsh again. Jeno moaned and inadvertently pushed his dick in deeper. So you loosened your jaw to accommodate his huge cock. Jeno went deeper and deeper till he was halfway down your throat. "Fuck, you're so warm, princess." He grunted and you breathed in to your nose but gagged out his dick when you couldn't take it anymore.

You panted heavily for oxygen while his cock stood tall and proud in front of you - you still needed more of him. "Fuck me." You begged.

He shook his head and grazed his thumb against the faint scar on the side of your forehead. "What if you get hurt?" He was concerned if your brain could handle his big dick.

"I'll pinch your thigh if it gets too much, that good enough for you?" Jeno inserted his cock in your mouth again, inch by inch he went deeper till you felt him in the base of your throat as you breathed in through your nose.

"Ready?" Jeno asked as he held your hair in a makeshift ponytail and you could only respond with a muffled yes. He went slow at first, his pace was gentle and his hold on your scalp was loose; he often glanced at you and checked if you were able to take it well since his pleasure was only second to your safety. Eventually you got tired of snail pace and muffled "faster," and that was when he punctured and abused your swollen throat at a fast pace while he groaned until streams of cum went down your throat and you swallowed every bit of it. There was a dark sense of pride as he watched you swallow his seeds. He helped you stand up and kissed you deep, tasting himself as you interlocked tongues. Your lips were swollen and you were out of breath and your pussy was wet and you continued kissing. "What a good girl for taking my big dick, even swallowed all of my cum." He nipped your lips, "wanted it from the beginning didn't you, baby?" And you could only nod as he sucked the air out of you.

"Let me return the favour."

   The memory of the villa burned inside of you for days on end. Jeno was true to his words and kept it casual; he didn't treat you any differently than before and would joke and tease you around like usual.

We're friends, I can call and text him if I want. So, you dialled his number and it rang.

"Hello?" Jeno's faint voice came out breathy.

"Hi Jeno." You greeted him.

"Hi princess, what's up?" You heard a woman's moan on the other end of the line and your heart dropped.

"Nothing." You quickly said. "Just wanted to see if you're free tomorrow to film."

"Yeah, I have some time tomorrow."

"Ok, I'll text you the location. Bye!" You ended the call without even letting a Jeno say goodbye and slummed your body against the bed. God, that call could've been a text, and now you actually have to go and write a small script for tomorrow's filming even though you had nothing! What an idiot! You really thought Jeno would fall for you when he was just a nice person, combined with the fact he probably still feels guilty for pucking you, but sure yeah, he has definitely fallen for you, what an idiot! Stupid! You really thought you were the one to change him like you are not Bob the builder.

The blank ceiling stared back at you in frustration. Now you understood why so many girls walked away crying in pain even though they knew what they signed up for; You already fell for him but you fell even more after you slowly got to know him. It frustrated you that you read more meaning into Jeno's actions even though Jeno had always been a man of his words. He told you up right that it was a simple transactional arrangement. It was dumb of you thinking that Jeno would ever fall for you. He was just a nice person. You cried into your pillows last night.

No, you can't fall for him no matter how kind and sweet he is. Him kissing you was a fluke. That night at the villa was a fluke. You were both two individuals with pent up emotions and urges who didn't hate each other hence the physical attraction at the very least. Don't fall for him, don't fall for him. That was the thing, you already fell for him, hard. Just…don't let him know about it.

The feelings bubbled intensely in your body that you had to let the foams out before it exploded. You reached for the diary in its usual spot but it wasn't there! You emptied every drawer, every bag, your closet, flipped the mattress, and even searched on Ryujin's side just in case it was there. That would be the best scenario. Oh crap! It was nowhere to be found! You cried so long that Ryujin and Yeji caught you crying and were ready to immediately beat Jeno's ass but quickly jumped to the rescue and said that you lost something.

   Jeno felt like a pervert, scratched that, he was a pervert. Right now, he was beating his meat while listening to a two second, innocent, voice recording of yours over and over again, while his game character hid in the corner of the screen, ignoring the whines and shouts through the chunky headset from his demonic friends. He had no idea how this became a regular occurrence; ever since meeting you, it became harder and harder for him to, well, get hard unless he thought about you. The post-nut clarity came and he had never felt more disgusted with himself, again. The logical side of his came back and it felt so wrong to disrespect you like this, especially since your relationship with him was far from that.

Whenever he was around you, he couldn't help that it was his natural instinct to constantly hold onto you, that his touches lingered longer, the need to playfully tease you, and maybe it was out of sheer stupidity, he sent risqué pictures to you. No, it wasn't nudes, simply topless pictures of him at the gym or in him in bed, and if that incited you to initiate something with him, well, he wouldn't be opposed to it. But you were good at keeping your boundaries - almost too good - there was a line he wanted to cross.

On some days, he wondered in the back of his mind if you were seeing anyone or sleeping with anyone else; the thought of that alone angered and enraged him in ways he didn't expect it to do so. Fuck whoever was touching and pleasing you. The first time that thought flashed his mind was when he saw a bruise on your neck when he first visited your dorm. There were times when a guy lingered his gaze on you for a second too long or you were friends with another guy, but he couldn't ask you that without him being a hypocrite. So, he did what any good boyfriend did - stared down the guy whenever someone looked at you the way he didn't liked.

Then it happened. The kiss when he came back from his away game. The texts and calls you made to wish him luck made him missed you even more, an empty hollow ache dug in his heart, even though he was tired from the game and the bus ride, his body instinctively led him to you. His heartbeat drummed when you opened the window, and without a thought, he cupped you in for a kiss on the lips - and the craziest thing was that you didn't push him away. You even leaned in for more. Well, that drove him a bit crazy.

Second, the villa. Maybe it was because you had to pretend to be a couple for the entire weekend, you naturally acted more couple-like. He loved getting a whiffed of your natural scent when you laid beside him and the warmth of your body against his when he woke up tangled in you - not wanting to leave the comfort of your presence. That memory replayed in his mind like background noise; if a simple kiss from you ruined him, just imagine what a kiss on his dick from you meant. Jeno tried to forget the touch of your soft lips on his with other people. Not because he wanted to forget about the memory but because his mind and body constantly crawled back to you. It was torturous to be toeing in between the lines. That was why he did what he had to do but tt felt wrong the moment another girl touched him and he instinctively jolted away from their touch. However, they were already naked so what else was he supposed to do beside eat her out so she can leave somewhat satisfied and that was when you made that odd phone call to him.

His eyes naturally wonders to you: the way your eyes light up when you drink your favourite iced peach lemon tea, the way you get shy and flustered when he teases you, the way you ride his motorbike with confidence when some of his friends were too scared to even ride in the back, the way you blend in with his friends and their girlfriends, and the way you're always so comfortable to be around that he feels like he can always be honest with you.

Once again, he notice you avoiding eye contact and being a bit colder than usual, your responses were curt and short - it reminded him of the time you avoided him the day after you got drunk. He hated it. At first, he choked it up to you having a bad day but it happened every time he met you, so he thought you were on your period but it wasn't possible because, according to his calnder, you weren't supposed to have it yet.

"Dude, you look sad." Mark observed Jeno's behaviour as they walked out of the arena.

"Yeah, you weren't hitting all the shots at practice today, what happened?" Serim asked.

"Nothing," he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, "my girlfriend seems a bit down nowadays and I don't what to do."

"Well, have you tried asking her?" Mark asked him in an obvious tone.

"I did and she said she was fine."

"Wow, it's clear you've never been in a relationship," Serim scoffed at Jeno, "when a woman says she's fine, she's not fine."

"Or, she could actually be fine," Mark interjected, "depending on the situation."

"Yeah, that's true," Serim nodded.

"What? So is she fine or is she not fine?" Jeno asked, more confused than ever.

"Yes." They both answered.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't hurt to make her feel better and happier." Serim said.

"Like what?" Jeno asked.

"You know like show up with flowers and buy her favourite dinner." Mark brought up, "or take her to a special place."

The three of them went their separate ways once the main campus building was in view. Jeno mulled over his friends' advice and decided to follow through with it; he waited for you outside of your class with your favourite iced peach lemon tea in one hand, and a singular crochet flower in the other - he thought the crochet flower would look cute in your room. His palms grew sweaty but he forgot about it once he saw you walking out of your lecture hall, "hi babe," he beamed at you with his natural smile.

You pressed a firm line and gave him a slight smile, "hey, what are you doing here? We don't have filming today," you peeked down and noticed the items in his hands.

"Yeah, I know," a random guy dapped Jeno up and he shakily handed you the drink and the crochet flower.

"Thanks," you were hesitant but accepted it anyways and took a sip of your favourite drink while you put away the cute flower in your bag.

"Are you free right now?" Jeno quietly asked.

Your eyes wavered side to side, "uhm, I have assignments that needs to be done," and took another sip from your drink.

There it was again, the unfamiliar cold behaviour that was uncharacteristic of you. "Ah, ok," Jeno awkwardly shuffled his feet, he did not think it through.

"Is everything ok?" There was a slight concerned in your voice.

"Yeah, everything's fine, I just needed your help with something."

You took another sipped and bit your lips, "what do you need help with?"

"Come with me."

"What are we doing here?" You slipped in backstage of the auditorium and crouched down beside Jeno who was peeking out of the giant curtains.

"We have to keep our voices down," he gently shushed you.

"Why are we here? There's no one," you whispered.

"Sometimes when I know Haechan is rehearsing alone, I like to mess with him when I'm bored." Right on cue, Haechan showed up on stage from the other side and warmed up his voice. It was an empty auditorium with only a singular flash of light that shone on Haechan. Jeno waited until Haechan sang a song and was in his world and that was when he took out a small metronome from his bag. He set the metronome equipment down on stage and turned it on the setting to a beat behind Haechan's singing so it would drive him crazy with the small, clicking sound.

You watched the way Haechan fell into the rhythm of his own singing, completely in sync with himself until he stopped singing and looked around the place, wondering if he had heard something. There was nothing so he continued on but there was the sound again, completely threw him off. This happened a couple of times until he got agitated and yelled, "stop messing with me!" Whether it was a ghost or a person, he was so done with them because it only happened when he was alone. "I will find you."

"He's coming, run," he snagged your hand and ran before Haechan could catch either of you and tried so hard to muffle in your laughs as to not be caught. You stopped running now that you were safe from Haechan's wrath, a bit out of breath from the spontaneous sprint, "what was that?!" You laughed at Jeno's harmless prank on Haechan.

Jeno's eyes twinkled seeing you smile, "he's going to kill me if he ever finds out one day but it's Haechan so I can take him down."

"I'm not here if he ever kills you," you laughed while clutching onto your stomach. It took you a couple more seconds but the laughter finally died down. "Well, um, thanks for letting me on this but I have to go now."

Jeno's eyes widened as he interrupted you. "Let me take you somewhere!"

"I don't know Jeno," you looked down, "I-"

"Please," he carefully linked his pinky with yours, "it won't take long."

Why is it that all men ever do is lie because you wouldn't exactly define going to a park outside of campus as exactly short. But you can't say you hated it, in fact, you loved it because you both were paddling on a duck-shaped boat over the tranquil water when Jeno stopped at where all the ducks and swans gathered. He took out a huge bag of ziplock from his bag and sprinkled seeds at the ducks and swans nearby.

"Do you always carry a bag full of seeds?" Your eyes glinted with amusement as you watched all the little cute animals gathered around the seeds, pecking for more.

"Not always but often enough," he handed you the ziplock bag and it was your turn to sprinkle it around.

"So cute, Jeno look, it's coming to me," you drizzled a generous amount of seeds to them and Jeno did the same - you both watched in complete silence in the stillness of tranquility. "Why'd you bring me here?" A thought ran through your head.

"Honestly?" Jeno asked as he fed more seeds to them.

"Yeah, honestly." You repeated.

"You seem a bit down nowadays, and I don't want to overstep your boundaries, especially if it's personal and I'm probably not your go-to person. But I just wanted to share what I do when I feel down," he paused, "in hopes of helping you feel better, whatever it is you're going through, even if it's just a litttle bit."

"Hmm cool, is this where you bring other girls often?" You chuckled lightly to disguise the bitterness and sharpness of your tone.

Jeno shook his head, "it's my first time showing anyone that I come here," his soft tone swayed your heart. Jeno didn't know but the hardened wax you created around him melted once again under his sincere words.

Jeno was ultra-focused as he scored another goal and the whole crowd cheered for him but it always sounded bittersweet in his ears, especially since you were never around for his games. He scanned the crowd once more, in a silly little hope that he would you in his jersey, like all of his other teammates did with their girlfriends. There was a small inkling part of him that wished you would come to his games and watch you cheer from the stands. But he knew where you came from, he would never even step foot into the arena if it happened to him, and a small part of the guilt resided in him. The tensions were high, only one score left to determine the winner. Jeno clenched his jaw and gripped his stick, the puck flew across the rink from stick to stick. A quick glanced at his surroundings and he already knew which teammate to pass the puck to, in a swift move, Jeno slid the puck to Serim and Jeno instantly skated to the other side. He watched as his other teammates passed the pucked among themselves until it reached Jeno again -they were so close to goal. Jeno was about to strike his stick against the puck when he saw a familiar figure with his jersey and his number on it. Could it be…? It was you! You were cheering in the stand with Chenle and your other friends. The other team took this split second of hesitation to body check him and stole the puck, and they took the win.

The match ended and the crowd slowly dispersed from the arena. You went down to where the team was gathered and greeted Jeno, "sorry you lost, it's like I'm bad luck." You checked him for any injuries and he let's you; Jeno liked it when your attention was on him and loved the feel of your soft fingers on him even more and your concerned tone.

"You're not bad luck, I need to play better." He kissed your forehead.

   It was the final scene for the video; Jeno drowning in the pool before he surfaces up, signifying that his paranoia was what killed him. Jeno's acting was more than convincincing, drowning while desperately gasping for air before it killed him. His stomach faced down and he floated in the pool.

One final zoom in on Jeno's body and you were done, "ok Jeno, done!" You reviewed the new footage that you had just shot, satisfied that your vision was coming together. You said once more only to met with the stillness of the chlorine air. "Jeno. I'm done. You can come up now." He wasn't moving at all, face down on the pool. At first, you lightly brushed it off thinking he was just joking with you but you cautiously stepped closer to the pool. "Jeno?" No response. "Ha.ha.ha. Very funny, you got me, you can come up now. The swim team will be here soon." No response. What if he pulled a cramped in between those takes and he was actually drowning?

Nevertheless, you sat the camera down on the bench and stood closer to the edge of the deep end of the pool. "Jeno?" You were panicking now, the worst case possible scenario ran through your head and you had to get him out of there. The only problem was that you can't swim if the pool is too deep so you looked around for those floating device but you didn't see any. So you leaned down flat on the ground and tried to grab ahold of his hand. So close yet so far. "Jeno!" You huffed, your fingertips were close to his, and in the blink of an eye, there was a commotion in the water since Jeno grabbed your hand and dragged you into the pool with him. "Ah!" You yelped as you fell into the pool, creating a huge splash.

"Got you!" Jeno was floating in the pool normally, laughing at his successful prank on you.

You were struggling to keep afloat, your neck barely came out of the surface. Jeno caught on to that and held your waist with one hand as he stayed afloat, while you anchored yourself on him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck - afraid you would drown the second you let go.

He rested one hand on your back, keeping you secure with his hold. "So you can't swim?" His eyes were full of mischief.

Now that you caught your breath and was able to think more clearly, "you jerk!" You let go of one hand around his neck and hit him hard on the chest that it thudded. "You scared me! Why would you do that? I can swim but not when it's this deep!"

"So you can't swim." He mocked with a cocky tone. "What if I," he paused, "just let go." You dipped in the water just the slightest but Jeno caught you in his arms as his laugh echoed in the pool arena.

You gasped and cursed at him as he did that whilst holding even tighter onto him. "You jerk! I'm going to kill you when we're on land," you threatened him again. "Don't let me go." You pleaded with desperate eyes.

"I won't let you go." He spoke in a hushed voice. Jeno's eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes, and yours mirrored his actions. The waves of the pool pulled you in even closer and without even thinking, your lips were pressed against each other. His lips was hot and tasted of chlorine and saliva and he kept on devouring you, pushing you right up the pool tiles. His hardness created a delicious friction and you involuntarily grinded on him, feeling the vibrations as he moaned. He grabbed your ass, pulled you even closer to him even though the gap was nonexistent between the two of you and you whined on his lips when you felt all of him. His lips chased yours when you separated from him because the sound of faint footsteps approaching the pool arena grew closer. Only the loud silence and heavy breaths filled up the arena, and you grew shy as you drowned in Jeno's eyes.

You spoke out first, "uhm, we should go. The swim team, they're here."

"Ye-yeah," he helped you out of the pull. It was an awkward mess of coming out of the pool and hurrying to leave before the swim team started their practice.

There was so much pressure you wanted to relieve the second you came back to your dorm, however Ryujin, out of all the other days, decided to skip class and chill in the room for the entire day. So the second Ryujin left for the evening, you took out your vibrator and went to town with it; there was an instant relief the second it touched your clothed pussy. You increased the intensity by one level and lulled into a daydream about Jeno, the pool, the villa, and god, imagining his fingers on you again. Once again, you upped the intensity by another level and the familiar coil in your lower belly forming when that moment was interrupted because there was a knock on your window. Shit. You turned off the vibrator and shoved it under your pillow and pulled the curtains to see Jeno with a takeout package and your favourite drink, iced peach lemon tea.

"Hi." Jeno greeted you through the window. "I've got food and your iced peach lemon tea," and came in through the window.

"Oh, uhm, thanks Jeno," you hoped Jeno doesn't noticed your flustered face, and fuck, you were itching for a release. "What are you doing here?"

"Movie night?" He brightly suggested and you both ignored the elephant in the room - the incident in the pool. The pool incident felt different than the time in the villa because it seemed like it was a tit for tat type of thing where you were curious about his dick and he was returning the favour. But the pool was impulsive, hot, and came out of nowhere.

You set up a towel on your bed so you both could eat while watching a movie in bed. Jeno settled himself against the headboard and removed the pillow to make himself even more comfortable when he saw the object underneath it.

Shit.

"Oh, baby, is this what you were doing?" You didn't say anything and felt all shy that Jeno caught you. "You must've hated that I ruined it. Did you come?" He was mocking you with a pout on his face.

"No." You said in a meek voice.

"Awww baby, what are you so shy for?" He pulled you in his lap, leaned in closer and pressed kisses against your jaw, you tilted your neck to the side to let him have more access and let out a soft moaned when he sucked a particular sensitive on your neck. "Fuck." He groaned as he took in the scent of your sweet self, "Because I was a fucking douche for interrupting your time," he sucked in that same sweet again to hear your whine, "let me help you."

Anyone could see that Jeno was a strong and muscular person, but the suddenness in which he manhandled you to sit you on his lap, in front of the mirror across from the bed, made your pussy gush with wetness. Jeno anchored your wait with one hand and spread your thighs opened. You were wearing Jeno's jersey with only a white lace panties underneath it. He moaned at the sight of your damp arousal that seeped through the clothing material. "Fuck," he hissed and kissed you hard and sucked the bottom of your lip before letting it go. "Your poor fucking pussy." He pouted.

"All wet and neglected because of me, right?" He lazily rubbed circles over your cloth clit but that pressure alone was enough to let out a desperate whined, relieved there was at least some sort of pressure. "Tell me, what were you thinking about?"

"You," you shyly confessed.

"You probably thought about me like the I way I was thinking about you in the shower jerking off to you," he rambled on. "Open your mouth," he spat in your mouth and watched the translucent liquid dripped, "take it like a good girl." He forced you to swallow and seeing him like this made your pussy twitched.

He stared at you in the mirror with a lustful gaze, "you're going to watch me watch you please yourself." He nipped your jawline and pressed the vibrator even harder against your clit that made your hips bucked up. "Aww aren't you desperate?" He snaked his hand under your, his, jersey and tweaked your nipple, bringing you pleasure from different sensation.

You grinded against the vibrator, wanting Jeno to increase the intensity so you could come. "Please, want to come," you begged him.

"Aww really?" He said in a condescending and pretended to increase the intensity only to lower it and you cried in disappointment. He did that a couple of times, enjoying watching the way you suffered under his touch. "I just started having fun," he cockily laughed in your ear. "Let me see the damage," and pulled off the oversize jersey, making you shy when you saw yourself topless in the mirror with your boobs hanging out, and your white lace panties soaking wet. "Prettiest boobs I've ever seen," he cupped them in his hand as if to prove a point.

You melted in his body, feeling exposed and shy at your naked self while he was still fully clothed. "You're so cute when you're so fucking shy." He bit your earlobe and trailed his hand down your side and took off your underwear. "There she is," he spreads your pussy with his other hand as the vibrator stimulates you on low. "So wet, all for me?" He teased and slowly inserted his ring and middle finger, instantly reaching deep into places you've never reached before. He heightened the sensation even more by increasing the intensity of the vibrator and you muffled your moans in the crook of his neck, taking in his natural scent, all while he made you come.

You stayed like this for awhile and he licked the juices of his fingers, "you did so well baby, thank you, thank you," and he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

   You know how people say a crush is just a lack of information? Well, you knew more about Jeno than you needed, and boy were you in trouble. If you were down bad for him before you got to know him when he was a mere stranger, now was even worse after getting to know him. The lines between what was real and what was fake blurred as you spent more time with each other. It felt like he was truly in a relationship with you, no facade, no pretending, just you.Each moment spent together meant falling deeper and deeper for Jeno. You knew he preferred staying in and in-door dates but he also knew you enjoyed going to new places so he would always go with you. From pottery dates to, to gym dates, to him teasing you to go to a cat cafe when he absolutely knew that you were scared of cats to the hours tangled in bed. There was also the hour-long calls whenever he was at an away game, and the late night drives in between your busy schedules. Even your friends warmed up to him and allowed his presence for your group karaoke night.

It was hour two of your karaoke session and Jeno still had not grabbed the microphone the entire night, he instead drowned himself with a fizzy drink everytime someone offered it to him. "Let's sing together," you pulled his hand since you knew he was shy when it came to these things but he stubbornly shook his head.

"I can't sing." He gave a pathetic excuse and planted his butt to the faux leather booth.

"None of us can," just then, Wonjin and Taerae harmonised a melodious high note to Taeyeon's I. "Well, most of us."

"Let me be your fan," and he pushed you to the stage while he snacked on some of the nachos. He would rather watch you sing and have fun with your friends than ever go on stage.

"Boo," you gave a thumbs down and playfully stuck out your tongue, "you're no fun."

And gosh, the number of times he's tried to drag you to the locker room shower with him when it was empty after his games or a workout session.

You scrolled on your phone as he changed to a fresh pair of shirt and sweats from his locker. Today he was unsuccessful in getting you in the shower with him because you had just washed your hair and you weren't about to do it all over again. You thought you were safe from the water demon but he playfully splashed some on you before you left the bathroom. So you brewed up a petty revenge plan to get back at him for splashing you with the tiniest drop of water. "Have you every thought what it would be like to be athletic?" You turned to him.

"Hmm?" He tilted his head to the side now that he was dressed in fresh clothes. "I am athletic," he said without a thought.

"No, I mean athletic athletic," you emphasised.

"I am athletic," he poked his tongue against his cheek and sat down on the bench, dragging you on his lap. "I play ice hockey competitively, cycle on weekends, lift weights five times a week, and hike up mountains."

You faced him as you settled yourself comfortably on his lap. "Sure, I guess," you cocked your eyebrows in doubt. "But don't you wish could do more?"

Jeno smirked, seeing right through your facade but decided to play along. "I guess I'm not athletic enough." He gripped your hips and you humped him dry. He snaked his hand down your pussy, "already wet, huh?" You wanted to wipe off the cocky smirk off his face but his fingers felt too good playing with your pussy and pinching your clit. He took off your pants and panties and dropped it on the dirty floor, whereas he only pulled down his sweats down his thigh and squished your boobs like a stresss ball, "ride me," he slapped your ass and shoved your perfect tits in his mouth, sucking and biting them.

You sinked into his tip and was already groaning from feeling of fullness and he wasn't even all the way in. It took a bit of trial and error but you had learnt to take it in slow first and let his cock just sink in you. Inch by inch he was filling you up with is huge cock and you whined when he was only half way inside of you.

Jeno alternated between soft licks and harsh sucks on your nipple, tonguing and moaning over your delicious boobs and leaving bites all over it. He let out a delicious groaned when he felt that he was fully in you and leaned even further back against the metal locker. You felt him twitch inside of you and rocked your hips against his; alternating between swirling your hips in a pattern and bouncing on his hard dick up and down, using his broad shoulders as an anchor. He licked all the to your neck and you moaned when he found and sucked on your sensitive spot, making to leave bruises in the process. He slapped your ass, "faster baby," unsatisfied with your slow pace so like the good girl you were, you bounced even faster on his dick, with your breast jiggling deliciously right in front of his face, until your thighs were burning from the intense pace. Pleasure coiled in your stomach, almost reaching that satisfying feeling but not quite there yet, and grinded on him instead.

Jeno exchanged starved kisses with you and sucked your tongue into his. "Jenoneno, I'm tired," you whined as you broke of the kiss and gave him your best puppy-like eyes, silently begging him to take over like he usually does.

He laughed and spanked your ass again, "what a brat silly girl, you're going to make yourself come on me," he mocked a condescending pout.

You cried on Jeno's shoulder, "please, I'm so tired, want to come," lazily grinding on him.

"Awww baby, you want to come?" His sweet voice dripped with threat, "what to do? I'm not fucking athletic like you said so fucking bounce if you want to come," he rasped in a low voice which made you even wetter.

Jeno watched you struggle as he loosely held onto your hips but not aiding it in any shape or form; you whined at the pain and fullness of his cock, regretting ragebaiting him, but did as he told despite the achiness of your burning thigh. "Please Jeno," your cries echoed in the empty locker room, "want to come, please, please, please," you begged and begged, desperate for release, but you were only met with a patronising attitude of the said man.

"Hmm," he hummed as if his dick wasn't also twitching and reaching a point of orgasm, "say you're sorry and do it well," and squeezed your ass.

You were desperate for anything at this point, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're strong and athletic, please, please, Jeno, I need you," you whined in one go.

Somewhat satisfied with your apology, Jeno places a firm hand on your hips, and thursted you till you were seeing stars and only his name slipped out of your lips. He peppered sweet kisses all over your face, tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, before pressing your lips into a melt-worthy kiss. "Thank you pretty girl, you did so well," and sprinkled more compliments and kisses like you were the only thing that mattered.

There was a drop in the pit of your stomach to the days leading to your "breakup." The kisses were sweeter and you never wanted to untangled yourself from him, and he never did. There was a small hope in the corner of your heart that believed that maybe Jeno had fallen for you and what you had with each other was beyond than what meets the eyes. Especially the way he embraced you in your warm bed, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and moaned out delectable sounds that you would no longer witness. The day of the breakup approached, money was transferred to your account, and until the last second till you bid goodbye to your relationship, you had hoped Jeno had a change of heart. About you. About anything. Of course he left with easy footsteps, he always knew what he wanted. The least embarrassing thing you did for yourself was that you kept your bittersweet dignity even though so many questions and words ran through the back of your mind, what about us?

   Jeno stared at the blank ceiling, his fingers tapped on his chest, slow and restrained, but they were itching to reach his phone. Another sleepless night after a battle of tossing and turning where his thoughts were his only companion. No, he cannot use his phone. If he used his phone, the first thing he wanted to do was text, no, call you, and hear your sweet voice for hours on end. There was an unfamiliar hollow ache that pained his chest ever since you two went your separate ways. It was all he ever asked for, a simple breakup; you both split the money, and he kept his motorbike safe from Chenle's reckless hands. There was even a cheery smile on your face when you parted ways. So why does it fucking hurt? At this point he didn't even fucking care if he lost the bet, lost his motorbike, if it meant that he wouldn't be losing you.

Why was it that every fibre in his cell refused to move away from you when you went your separate ways? For the first time in his life, his mind and his body were two separate entities: his mind was relieved that it was over while his body screamed at him to not let you go. He had walked away from plenty of girls with a light heart whenever they crossed a line but his footsteps were heavy when you both parted, he looked back secretly hoping you would do the same. However, you did exactly what he wanted, or what he thought he wanted, and made a clean exit without looking back at him - he walked with heavy footsteps that day.

His phone notification lit up with every ping! sound but he ignored them all because it wasn't the notification sound he had for you. The news spread like wildfire that the Lee Jeno was newly single again, he had constantly been receiving dms and personal messages from various people whom he had never even met. Prior to meeting you, maybe he would've been opened to entertaining one or two of them but now he's so fucking repulsed by the thought of being with anyone other than you. True to your words, the story you gave was that you broke it off with him because you weren't right for each other - a simple reason without tarnishing either one's reputation. Fuck that. Not right for each other? Did all those long calls and late night drive meant nothing to you? Were you not right for each other when…

Jeno got up from his bed and went downstairs for a midnight refresher, something to get his mind off you. His friends tried to cheer him up by setting him up on a blind date or take him clubbing like they used to when his routine only consisted of: class, practice, game, and dorm. But he refused all of their advances and preferred to sulked in the comfort of his room. A classic tale of someone going through a breakup. Instead, he was greeted with the delightful sight of Sungchan and Shuhua acting all lovey dovey with each other, and baking cookies in the middle of the night, making the air smell of comfort and warm vanilla. Yuck! He was sick. Ugh. It annoyed him seeing Sungchan with his girlfriend nowadays. Always on late night calls giggling and whispering about his day, and the exaggerated cries when he talks about his injuries, while Jeno's trying to go to sleep; no one needs to hear that, Sungchan!

"Hey, can't sleep?" Sungchan greeted Jeno as he opened the fridge door.

"Yeah," Jeno mumbled and scanned around the fridge until he spotted his zero calorie soda can in the fridge.

"Hey Jeno, want some cookies? We just baked a fresh batch." Shuahua boxed away the fresh cookies in an open container as the other batch bake in the oven for the time being.

"Sure, thanks." Jeno grabbed a cookie from the container and bit into it - it was delicious. But he knew that if you were the one to taste it, you would say something along the lines of, the chocolate chips melted perfectly into the buttery dough and it was the best kind of cookie because it was a crispy chocolate cookie and not a chewy one. Sungchan and Shuhua exchanged concerned looks as they watched a wistful smile formed on Jeno's face while he puts the cookie down. "It's good," he muttered.

"Have some more," Shuhua pushed the container across the kitchen counter.

"No, thanks." Jeno shook his head and raised his can, "just this for me." He was about to go back to his bed and mull over you and his thoughts until morning comes until Sungchan muttered something to Shuhua under his breath.

"We should set him up on a date like yn," Sungchan mumbled to Shuhua, "like kidnap or trick him into going."

"Did you just say yn's going on a date?" Jeno asked, checking to see if he heard it correctly the first time.

Sungchan's eyes popped wide opened, "n-no, I said what's today's date?" Sungchan covered up with a nervous laugh.

"Ok," Jeno eyed Sungchan suspiciously and left the kitchen but hid behind a wall near a kitchen.

"Oof," Sungchan wiped away an invisible sweat, "babe, imagine if he found out yn is going on a date." Sungchan said it loud and clear to Shuhua.

"So she is going on a date," Jeno appeared in the kitchen with a clenched jaw.

"Idiot! You weren't supposed to say anything," she whispered-scolded Sungchan and slapped him on his arm.

"Shit," Sungchan panicked.

"What date?" Jeno asked warily.

"I heard this guy in her music club or something asked her out." Sungchan replied.

"Oh," Jeno processed the information given to him, "with whom? Where? When?"

"You gotta ask the birdie here," Sungchan pointed his thumbs towards Shuhua.

"So, who's the guy?" Jeno asked her.

"Sorry Jeno," Shuhua shrugged and opened the oven because the cookies were done baking, "girl code."

"Ouch," Shuhua dropped the pan on the kitchen since she accidentally touched the hot metal pan without mitten gloves.

"Aw baby," Sungchan cooed and kissed Shuhua's fingertips, lost in each other and had forgotten about Jeno's presence.

As much as Sungchan annoyed him by flaunting his relationship, Sungchan made Jeno realised that he wanted a relationship with you; all the romance, the dates, the cuddling in bed, arguing but always coming back to each other at the end of the day. It made him puked imagining a life without you.

The only problem was that Jeno didn't know how to do relationships: the romance, the dating. He just did what came natural to him and all he knew was that he hated the thought of of another guy being intimate and getting to know you like he did.

Jeno scoffed when he spotted you and the other guy at 90's Love. It's our spot. Fine, if Shuhua didn't want to give him the details of your date, fine by him. Jokes on her because he knew your entire schedule by heart and waited till you were done with your class for the day and discreetly followed you with Mark's car that he had borrowed for the day.

He hid in the car and watched as you took the booth by the window. The guy you were with was tall and some might even say good looking but who knows. Everything seemed normal at first, you were chatting with the other guy, maybe a bit too happily, but it all changed for Jeno when he saw the guy laughed a bit too hard and wiped your mouth with a napkin and he dashed right in the diner.

"Thank you Zhang Hao," you took the napkin from him, a bit uncomfortable from the sudden touch.

"You're welcome yn." He flashed a gentle smile, "how do you like your food?"

"It's great," you reciprocated the same energy but being here on a date with another guy just felt wrong. It was your to-go spot with Jeno: whenever you were bored, needed a pick me up, or was just craving their delicious strawberry milkshake.

"Thank you for going on this date with me," he blushed shyly, "if I'm being honest, I wasn't sure if you were going to say yes considering it hasn't been that long since your breakup."

You sipped your strawberry milkshake, "you're surprised? I'm surprised you're even sitting down with me because you're always so busy with the club, music, and the student council." You strayed the topic away from Jeno, "like how do you do it all?"

"Do I seem like a loser?" He bit his lips while he gave you a shy smile.

"No, it's cute," you teased him. This was the first time that you had talked to Zhang Hao outside of the music club, you guys would usually say hi to each other or make small talk before practice began but that was it, so it came a bit of a surprise when he asked you out and you thought it would be nice to move on from Jeno after all these. Zhang Hao was a sweetheart, comfortable, and maybe in another universe you would've fallen for him, unfortunately, no butterflies swirled around your stomach when you're with him - just indifference.

Out of nowhere, Jeno entered the diner, slid into your booth, sat beside you, and sipped on your strawberry milkshake like you were still a couple.

"Hi," you glanced at Zhang Hao and Jeno.

"Hey, oh! You got my favourite loaded fries." He made himself comfortable and ate a couple of fries.

"Jeno, um, we're kind of in the middle of a date," you cleared your throat and looked nervously at Zhang Hao, unsure of what was going on.

"How rude of me," he wiped his oily hand on the napkin and extended his hand for a handshake, "Jeno, boyfriend."

Zhang Hao accepted his handshake with confusion, "Zhang Hao," wondering if he heard Jeno say boyfriend or boy friend.

"Boy," you paused for emphasis, "friend."

"Boyfriend," he stated again and took a bite out of your burger. "Ooh, you got my burger order, this is the good stuff."

Zhang Hao stared with his jaw dropped and looked hesitantly between you and Jeno, too scared and confused to say anything. So you stepped up, "can you excuse me for one second Zhang Hao? I just need to talk to Jeno for a bit." and went outside the diner with Jeno who flashed a smug smile at Zhang Hao.

You pulled Jeno to a secluded corner to have a private conversation and crossed your arms, "what's going on Jeno? I've never seen you act like this."

Jeno contemplated for awhile about how he wanted to say what he wanted to say but decided on the straight truth, "yn, I didn't realised this until after our whole deal was done, but I like you and when I heard you were going on a date with another guy that wasn't me, it pissed me off because I want to be that guy. I want to be your," Jeno gazed at you with sincere eyes, "boyfriend," he breathed out the last word.

Your shoulders dropped and your head titled with furrowed eyebrows. "Jeno, listen, I like you too," you started off and there was a gleam of hope in his eyes, "and I enjoyed our time together regardless of the bet," his lips tugged upwards, "but I don't think you like me."

His lips frowned and his heart dropped. "Are you telling me how to feel about you?" A bit confused with your response.

"No, well yeah, well - ok, let me ask you this, sex out of the way, have you ever dated anyone seriously? or spent time with any of the girls you used to hook up with?" You uncrossed your arms and explained.

"No." He admitted.

"Why?"

"I just never did," he shrugged his shoulders, "but I want to be in a relationship with you, you're different from other girls."

Your lips pressed into a thin line, "I'm exactly like other girls. The only difference between me and them is that you actually took the time to get to know me - well, forcibly, but I stand by my point."

"Ok?" He was still confused.

"All I'm saying is that all of this was a coincidence. If it was someone else who ordered the iced peach lemon tea or whatever drink or if you actually got to know the person you fooled around with, you would be confessing to her and not me." There was a pregnant pause. "I just happened to be the girl in this position," you muttered the last sentence.

He shook his head. "So?" He said almost a bit too blunt for your taste. "It doesn't matter because, at the end of the day, you're the one that I got to know."

Your voice cracked with a shallow breath, "Fine then, maybe there's still this unconscious guilt inside of you from hitting me." You tried reasoning with Jeno but you knew deep down that it was for you. It wasn't my possible for Jeno to fall in love with you because he doesn't fall for people and you were an anamoly. Even if was spelling it out for you. Because if you did end up dating him, the crack in your heart will never heal at the inevitability of him, eventually, moving to the next person. This was the only way to protect you from a disastrous heartache. "I forgive you Jeno and I know it was an accident. Water under the bridge. I'm all healed now and you even took me out to lunch the first time we talked to each other because you felt bad. You don't owe me anything anymore nor do I owe you anything." You stood firm on your ground, "take care Jeno," you bid goodbye before you entered the diner to resume your date with Zhang Hao.

Jeno stayed silent even after you left, contemplating and processing your words. The logical part of him agreed with you that it was just the time spent together that made him fall in love with you, but the thing that bothered him the most? Your unwavering reaction to his confession. Maybe you truly didn't see him beyond a friend and a fuck, and maybe, he never truly stood a chance to be with you. He should've known it wasn't going to be easy because all these years asking the universe for a clean goodbye, you served it to him on a silver platter.

   It was the Premiere Day showcasing all the films in the auditorium. Professor Sooyoung had booked out the auditorium so all your classmates can enjoy the fruits of your labour together and even opened it up to the public so any student can join in and watch as well. You sat in the middle row beside your friend with the charm bracelet, excited to watch everyone's film.

"Did you invite anyone else?" She asked.

"Yeah I did, they couldn't make though because they all have class but it's ok since we already watched it together. How about you?" You scanned around the room looking for a particular individual but there were no signs of him. Despite the last interaction with Jeno, you had invited him to the Premiere Day since it was his film too. He deserved it. But he never responded to your text so you weren't sure if he was going to be here or not.

"Same, they have lab today." She replied, "is Jeno coming?" She asked.

You slummed your shoulders with disappointment, "I'm not sure," pretending like it hasn't affected you.

The winner for the local competition was announced a couple of days ago, unfortunately, you didn't win but your Professor liked it, so only that mattered. Soon after, the chatter died down, the lights dimmed out, and screen light flashed up - Everyone's eyes were focused on the moving screen in front of them.

In between the films showcasing, Jeno slipped into the auditorium and sat in the back seat with his hoodie up and a cap that covered the top half of his face. Even in the vast darkness of the auditorium, he easily recognized the back of your head, his eyes naturally gravitates towards you. The whole place was quiet except for the sounds that came from the screen, and the people beside him who were munching on their food too loudly. For the first time since he entered the auditorium, he turned his head to the left side, instead of staring at you, to politely asked them to quiet down only to met with a familiar face. "Haechan?" Jeno whispered, "what are you doing here?"

"Watching the films, duh," he obnoxiously shoved in another pack of chips in his mouth.

"Don't you have class right now?" Jeno asked himz

"We all ditched," Sungchan whispered.

"Sungchan?" Jeno was taken back to see another friend of his in the auditorium.

"When is yours going to show?" Serim asked.

"Yeah dude, I'm dying to watch it," Mark added in a bit too loud.

"Just shhh," he placed his index over his lips with a stern face but they ignored him and kept on whispering to each other in the back row.

Your heart drummed when the next film opens to a sound you've heard a million times while editing to the point you got so sick of it - you wanted to be free from the shackles you had created. It was torturous to edit something you once loved so much and all the memories attached with it, only for it to be bittersweet at the end.

The film opened with Jeno taking off his hockey gear in the locker room, you noticed everyone's eyes were locked in as they leaned forward in their seats as Jeno pulledoff his shirt, revealing his toned abs, and you swear you heard someone audibly gulped at the sight of Jeno topless. Yes! Baited!

"Fuck, you look hot man," Haechan whispered-hollered at Jeno and all the guys joined in.

"Just shut up and watch," Jeno rolled his eyes, feeling embarrassed to watch himself like this in front of an audience.

"Ooh, Mr.Actor thinks he's a hotshot," Sungchan mocked.

All the sweet memories flooded in Jeno's mind as he watched the film to the very end. Even though you had shared the final version with him before you submitted it, he didn't have the heart to watch it, and when you texted him about today, he never planned on showing up but his body betrayed his intention. All those hours spent on filming, editing, and complaining was worth it because chills went through his body when his character died in the pool. That day in the pool changed everything.

"Brooo, you can act," Mark patted Jeno on the back even though he was a couple of seats away.

"Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps," Serim commented, "I'm not sleeping by myself tonight.

While that was happening, in the middle aisle where you were sitting with your friend, you were feeling shy from all the compliments that your friend threw at you. "That was incredible!" She gushed over your video, "the hook scene with Jeno and I don't even like him like that! If I were you, I would've kept that to myself." She joked.

"Sharing is caring," you joked back. Once more, you glanced around the auditorium now that the lights slowly came back to life, looking for the main character of your video. Your eyes fixated on the back row, a bit surprised to see them, where you spotted Haechan, Sungchan, Serim, and Mark eating packs of snacks. Then, your eyes caught onto the silhouette with the hoodie and the cap, his face was covered but you had a feeling it was-

"Hold on!" A voice boomed from the stage and a figure emerged from the shadows of the stage with a microphone. You turned your attention back to the stage as the chatter died down once again. "That was an interesting film." Keeho commanded the stage and stared directly at you. Only for you to glanced at your friend, giving each other a, "what's going on look?" considering you've never even had a conversation with Keeho.

"Or was it a real-life-soon-to-happen documentary?" He dramatically continued on stage and people murmured in confusion at his accusation. Your friend held your hand as you sat up straighter and your eyebrows furrowed into confusion - an anxious, inkling feeling pricked through your bones. "This film was not fictional. It was her fantasy." He cackled evilly, "that's going to become her reality."

Keeho pressed a small remote in his pocket which changed the screen from your film to a familiar notebook that you had lost awhile ago, your Jeno Journal. Oh no! You stayed frozen as sweats formed around your temples and heart started racing. The screen flashed all your most embarrassing, inner thoughts for everyone to see: Jeno please notice me, he smells so nice I wonder what shampoo he uses, let me lick his fresh sweats, practically soulmates cuz we like the same brand of gummy bear, hehe going to the cafe library cuz I know hes there to get an iced americano, hes wearing jeans today so no practice for him, and much, much more.

A fusion of anger and embarrassment furled inside of you because these were your private thoughts that belonged to only you, and instead, Keeho, however he found the notebook, violated your privacy and made it his entertainment. Your fingers curled up into a tight fist and you got up from the seat at the same time as your friend; you weren't sure if you wanted to confront Keeho or leave the place, all you knew was that you needed to do something. Before you could even decide which action to take, someone had jumped on stage and punched Keeho in the face. Oof. The sound was not pretty. It was Jeno; his hoodie was down and his cap flew off somewhere. Jeno yanked the remote off Keeho and switched off the screen, leaving it white and blank.

"Ouch, that hurts," Keeho wiped away the blood that oozed out of the corner of his lips.

Jeno ignored Keeho's comment, and without a problem, trapped him in a headlocked on the stage floor. Some took out their phones and recorded the brawl, including his own friends, some gasped in shocked, while others chanted, "fight!" "fight!" repeatedly. Whereas you stood in complete bewilderment at the scene in front of you.

"Do you want to leave?" Your friend was concerned at how fast the situation escalated.

You appreciated the way she was still holding your hand, "no," you whispered back.

"Give back the book and apologise to her," Jeno headlocked him even tighter against his hold, not tight enough to cause him any damage but tight enough to know that he was serious about his threat, as Keeho gasped for air, his hands tapping out.

"O-okay," he gasped out before Jeno loosened his hold on him.

"Journal, now." Jeno demanded and glared his eyes at him as they both stood up and faced each other. Only now that anger had melted off a bit, Jeno realised that people were recording and watching him as he stood under the stage light. The thing he hated most was unwanted attention and here he was, not caring about any of it, and only cared about you.

"Fine," Keeho took out the small notebook from his back pocket and displayed it in front of him and pulled in a smirked, "just so you know, I would call the police if I were you because the things that she has written in the note-,"

Jeno clenched his jaw and poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and cracked his fingers. With menacing steps, he approached Keeho to headlock him again but Keeho was already down on his knees begging for mercy.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he begged for forgiveness.

Jeno rolled his eyes at him and snatched the notebook sfrom him. "Why did you do this?" His voice still dropped with threat.

"It's because you lied to me. You weren't the model for my portrait? Fine. But you said that you would help me the next but didn't! You lied to me! You were already filming with her instead of me." Keeho cried out his reasons.

"Shouldn't you be attacking me instead of her?" Jeno asked, a bit confused. "And, she asked me first."

"Oh." A moment of realisation hit Keeho. "It is what it is?" He offered an awkward laughed.

"Booo you whore." Haechan yelled Keeho.

"Stop shaming woman!" Someone from the crowd shouted.

"Get outta here!" Sungchan booed.

"He doesn't even go here!" Mark howled.

 "Misogynistic pig!" Your friend piped up.

"Apologise to her!" Serim yelled.

"We all want to lick his sweat!" Someone else screamed.

The entire crowd booed at Keeho and chanted, "apologise! Apologise!" repeatedly. Jeno himself bunched Keeho's shirt and dragged him down the stage to where you were standing with your friend. He shoved Keeho down on his knees in front of you, "apologise," Jeno demanded once again.

"I'm sorry," Keeho muttered.

"Louder," Jeno ordered, "she can barely hear you."

Keeho cleared his throat, "I'm sorry for invading your privacy and putting it up on public display."

"I don't forgive you but I don't ever want this to happen again, to me or anyone else." You replied.

"Now scram," Jeno said. The crowd cheered when Keeho scurried out of the auditorium, but not without tripping himself first.

"And this belongs to you," Jeno handed you the small black notebook to you.

"Thank you, Jeno," and your hand lingered on each other while the book was passed to you.

"Yo Jeno, what shampoo do you use?" A voice asked from the crowd, breaking the moment between the two of you.

He looked around awkwardly at the crowd who were waiting for his response, "apple scented," he commented. A chorus of "ahs" echoed.

"What brand?" Someone else asked.

"A five-in-one." There were audible gasps of disappointment that echoed throughout the small auditorium.

The crowd left excited, sharing more gossips with each other after the whole debacle died down as they exited the auditorium. "Wanna go get a little pick me up?" Your friend asked.

"Can I take a rain check? I need to do something first."

"Ok, see you!" You hugged your friend goodbye and she disappeared into the long hallway. Whereas you waited outside of the auditorium, in the corner, for Jeno to exit the premise. A minute later, Jeno showed up at the exit door and you pulled his hand to get his attention. "Jeno, can we talk for a minute?"

Jeno was taken aback but he nodded in agreement, "sure."

"Ohhh, they're getting back together," Mark teased and the other guys followed suit with the teasing.

"Privately," you whispered to Jeno, your hand was still holding his.

They were never going to let this down. They were ruining the moment he was having with you so he sent them death glares.

"Guys stop it, he's going to smack us down in front of people," Haechan teased some more and they ran away while laughing.

You pulled Jeno to a secluded corner where people rarely passed by. You were the first one to pull your hand away from his, "thank you for standing up for me."

"That was a fucked up thing for him to do," Jeno shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

You handed the journal to him. "This belongs to you because no matter how much I think about it, I shouldn't have done that to you even if it was for myself. It was wrong of me and I'm sorry Jeno," and waited for him to take the journal but his hands were still in his pockets.

He took out his hands from pockets and stepped forward, "what are you sorry for?" He leaned his face closer to yours.

"I'm sorry for writing all those things about you."

There was a smug smile on his face, "what things?" and leaned in even closer until you were a teasing breath away from him, his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips.

You pulled your head back a bit from Jeno, feeling a bit hot from the sudden tension, "for - um - writing inappropriate things and stalking your schedule, and," your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips back to his eyes. "And - and,"

Jeno lifted your chin up towards him and pulled your waist closer towards him, and he kissed you on the lips; unspoken words between the two of you was translated in a singular moment of passion, guilt, and love. You missed him terrribly and so did he.

"I've missed you, I've missed you, I've missed you," he muttered on your lips.

"You're not mad at me?" You asked him while the journal was in between you two.

"I am mad at you," Jeno remarked lightly. You pouted a guilty look and looked down to the ground but Jeno pulled you to his again. "I'm mad at you for not telling the truth."

You avoided his eye intense gaze. "I'm sorry J-"

"I'm mad at you for not being honest about your feelings with me. The truth that you liked me." He cupped your face in his hands, not letting you get away. "I'm mad at you for pushing me away. Why?" His last word carried a heavy weight.

"Because you said to not fall in love with you, and I already was," you explained, "and because you don't do relationships."  

"And I was an idiot for that," he leaned his forehead against yours and intertwined your hands with his. God, did he miss playing with your hands. "I only did what I did on stage because of you. I wouldn't have done it for anyone else," he said, removing any doubts you had of his love and affection for you. "Please give me a chance to prove you wrong. Let's give us a chance, for real this time."

Your eyes flickered with the tiniest bit of hesitation. "I appreciate you, I really do but-"

"Forget about everything else, just tell me you want this as much I want you?" His eyes pleaded with desperation.

You offered a quiet hum at first, secretly making Jeno nervous at your silence. "We can give us a try," you said after much deliberation.

With the softest touch, he flicked the side of your head and kissed it. "We could've had this sooner, silly girl." He embraced you in a warm hug and whispered down to you, "now, what else did my favourite pervert write in the journal?"

"Not a pervert," heat crawled up your entire body so you hid your face in Jeno's chest and let out a small sound of embarrassment.

"It's fine, I'm a bigger pervert than you are," Jeno let out a hearty laughed. You were it for Jeno.

  "One more time." Jeno angled the poloroid in front of you since you were perched on his lap.

"Again?" You sipped on your iced peach lemon tea and placed it back in the middle console.

"Yes, sit still and look pretty for me." He said in a serious tone.

"My favourite couple!" Chenle came running to the car on the gravelled road with his huge suitcase and sunglasses perched on his head. "Me too! I wanna join!" He saw the way you both were cuddled up and was envious that you both were taking pictures without him. "I wanna take pictures too!" Chenle attempted to climb on Jeno's lap in the crowded seat but Jeno pushed him away, accidentally a bit too hard, and Chenle fell on the gravelled ground. "Shit, that hurts." There was the tiniest cut on the palm of his hand and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Jeno," you lightly scolded him, only for him to frowned a little.

Feeling guilty from the way he accidentally pushed Chenle a bit too roughly, he patted his other thigh with a defeated look. "Come on, Chenle. I didn't mean to push you hard." Chenle climbed on top of Jeno like an excited puppy and made himself comfortable on his lap, "oof," Jeno grunted when Chenle sat his full body weight on Jeno; two people were now on his lap, you on the right and Chenle on the left,

"Yay!" Chenle caressed Jeno's pecs over his shirt and felt up his biceps.

You flicked away Chenle's hands on Jeno's body. "Don't touch my man."

"I knew him first!" Jeno moved his ear away from Chenle and wiped off the splattered saliva from him.

"Say that a bit louder, I don't think we heard you." Jeno dryly remarked.

Chenle melted even more against Jeno's chest and noticed a, small but sparkling, "J" neck on you. "Nice necklace," he commented.

"Thanks!" You showed off the pretty necklace to Chenle. "Jeno got it for me." This kind of necklace wasn't your favourite but Jeno looked so cute and nervous before he gave it to you that you started loving it because of the meaning behind it.

"Looks expensive," Chenle noted the beautiful shimmer of the necklace.

"Yeah, used the bet money to buy this pretty little thing." Jeno squeezed your hip with one hand.

Chenle snorted. "All of it?"

"Well, half had to go to her," Jeno feigned a heartache as he nuzzled into you closer with a pout, "just for her to spend it on some boy band."

You slapped his chest, "it was vip tickets for The Visionary!"

"What?! What do you mean half had to go to her?" Chenle shouted even louder than last time which made Jeno flinched - he knows who to blame if he ever goes deaf one day.

"I owed her that money, a deal is a deal," Jeno interlocked your hands with his and played with your fingers and ignored the numbing sensation on his left thigh.

"You knew it was a bet?!" Chenle shouted again.

"Yeah." You nodded nonchalantly and leaned your head on Jeno's shoulder.

"Since when? Towards the end?"

"Since day one." You replied.

"And you agreed to it?" Chenle asked.

"It was easy money." You rolled your eyes. "We pretended to date so he could keep his bike," you rolled your eyes, "and see other girls."

"You're the only one for me now," Jeno kissed your knuckles.

"Not to ruin this barf-worthy, sappy moment but you cheated Jeno Lee!" He yelled at him again. "It means you owe me your motorbike! And my money back!"

"If you can ride it, you can take it." Jeno shrugged off Chenle's attitude. "But I already spent all your money."

"Shut up." Chenle was fuming and crossed his arms. "So, I won but it doesn't feel like I won."

"Yeah, I'm the winner." Jeno smirked a cocky smile at Chenle who was still whining, "come on, don't be a sore loser."

"Yeah, you're the loser here." You playfully snickered and made the letter L with your fingers and Jeno joined in on the teasing saying that he was a loser.

On the surface, Chenle sulked and complained like a true sore loser, however, he held back a victorious smirked because what you and Jeno both didn't know was that he, Chenle, was the real winner.

The university ice hockey team had won yet another game and everyone in the stand cheered with excitement. "We won! We won!" Chenle cheered for his hockey friends and jumped up and down with you, Yeji, Ryujin, Wonjin, and Taerae. All of your faces were covered with the university's colour, courtesy of Ryujin. The cheers didn't die down until minutes later because it was the first win of the season, but soon after, people left the hockey arena one by one in an orderly fashion. Most people would just leave the area but some students would stop and take pictures with their favourite player.

"Wait guys, I'll meet you at the exit, I wanna say hi to my hockey friends," Chenle waved at hockey team and skipped towards them.

You squatted down and set your iced peach lemon tea drink beside you, and unlaced your shoelaces even though it was originally perfectly tight and intact.

"Are you coming?" Yeji turned back when she realised you weren't beside them.

"Yeah, go ahead, just tying my shoelaces," you laced up your shoelaces at a very purposeful snail pace as you stole glances of people taking pictures with your favourite player, and secret crush, Lee Jeno. He had freshly dyed his hair dark blue and politely took pictures with everyone who asked for them. Even if some of them were a bit too touchy or a bit aggressive with their touch, Jeno brushed it off with his signature eye smile. At every game you've been to, you had often debated to ask for a picture with Jeno but always chickened out once you saw just how many girls waited and lined up for him. That was part of the reason your crush on him grew bigger, he was always so kind and nice to others despite his looks - although, romantic relationships was not in his dictionary.

Maybe this time? The crowd had already thinned out so you wouldn't be embarrassing yourself and he was already taking pictures with other people so he would most likely take it with you too. You tied up your shoelaces with courage, picked up your drink and stood up from your spot; your feet angled towards the icy rink but you froze when you saw that smile in his eyes, a different smile, the kind that looked like he just fell in love and was on cloud nine, while talking to a girl. With a defeated spirit, you slummed towards the exit. Again.

What you had failed to noticed as you walked out the place was that Chenle was watching your every move. Like clockwork, you always exited the area later than your friends because of your shoes but he never understood that because your laces were perfectly tight and laced up whenever he looked down at them. Out of curiosity, he followed your line of vision and it landed right on Jeno. Ah. He saw how your eyes glimmered at the sight of Jeno and a plan evilly brewed inside his head.

It’s such a bittersweet feeling that this is finally out there because this fanfic, for some reason, I had a lot of ups and downs with it and it didn’t have anything to do with me struggling with the plot line or the characters. The original draft was written awhile ago but I stopped and let it marinate because I didn’t like where the story was headed and wasn’t a big fan of the character. I let the fanfic collect dust with the intention of revamping it one day but I never did so I accepted the fate that it would die and simply be gone. Then I started writing the other Jeno fanfics and was struck with inspiration to revamp the entire thing and I did it! But in between all the writing and editing, there was a lot of doubt and negative attachment towards this for some reason??? Like I can’t even explain it cuz I also don’t know what it is 😭 whatever it is, I thought about dumping and deleting the story halfway when I was done but for some odd reason, I didn’t dump it, and continued working on it. Anyways, thank you if you’ve read this absolutely mess about a person stressing over a silly fanfic and thank u @neowinestainedress for supporting this nothingburger! And thank u for taking ur time to read this fanfic and I really do hope u all enjoyed it despite whatever feelings I have towards it! I always get so happy when ppl share their thoughts about the fanfic with me 💗.

jeno stomped into your room, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket, jaw tight with irritation. your voice still echoed in his head.

‘fix my laptop and i won’t tell your dad you’ve been skipping almost every class since the semester started.’

fix it? he wasn’t a damn IT guy. and how the hell did you even know he’d been skipping? what were you, a stalker?

seriously, it wasn’t his fault you couldn’t take care of your stuff. and why couldn’t you just take the damn thing to a repair shop?

“i need it for college work,’ you’d said.

yeah, right. like he didn’t hear you at night. his room was right next to yours, and those walls were way too thin. not only were you loud, but you also needed headphones, because he could hear exactly what kind of videos you watched.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, stepping up to your desk. the laptop sat there, taunting him in its sickly sweet pink case covered in hello kitty stickers.

“god, what a child,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before plopping onto your chair. the cushion was still warm from you sitting there earlier. he flipped the laptop open, and a password prompt appeared.

he tried your birthday first. denied.

with a sigh, he scanned your desk. you were forgetful, he was sure you had the password written somewhere. his eyes landed on a cluster of polaroids, mostly of you and your boyfriend. he grabbed one and flipped it over. sure enough, there was a scribbled note in your messy handwriting.

‘happy anniversary, my baby ❤️’ and a date.

jeno scoffed but typed it in anyway. the screen unlocked with a soft chime.

the moment your desktop loaded, he was met with a picture of you sprawled out on a beach towel, skin sun-kissed, in a tiny white bikini that barely covered anything. jeno swallowed.

several seconds passed before he snapped himself out of it, shaking his head and forcing his attention elsewhere.

your laptop was a disaster. it was clogged with files, random downloads, and so many pop-ups it was a miracle the thing still functioned. he clicked around, deleting error files and clearing out junk.

then a notification popped up from a browser window that was open in the background.

he opened the tab out of habit, not expecting anything interesting, but then the page loaded and he had to blink twice to make sure he was seeing right.

it was a blog called ‘horny antidotes.’

"what the hell is this?" he snorted.

he scrolled, thumb hovering before tapping on a section labeled confessions. a list of posts loaded, the oldest ones stretching back to the beginning of last year. against his better judgment, he clicked the most recent entries.

i tried it again tonight. used my fingers since the new toys i got don’t really feel good either. i think my boyfriend’s starting to suspect something. it’s kinda weird that i barely get wet when he touches me (╥_╥) we even try watching porn together, but it does nothing for me. we just scroll through hundreds of videos and i feel nothing, while he gets hard so easily. so i end up sucking him off.

jeno’s brows lifted. jesus.

i get more turned on looking at pictures of LJN. but i can’t touch myself to him… it feels wrong. so i gotta find an alternative. any tips? (>д<)

LJN?

his lips parted. those were initials. your boyfriend’s? no… his.

L. J. N.

lee jeno.

his pulse jumped. before he could think better of it, his fingers typed LJN into the blog’s search bar.

hundreds of posts popped up.

he let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

no fucking way.

today LJN helped me with my homework. he looked like he hated every second of it. it was hard to focus when he sat so close… his cologne makes me feel so… hot (/ω＼).

jeno dragged a hand down his face. he’s not imagining all this? right?

my boyfriend and i broke up again (kinda) (μ_μ). same reason as always… our sex life sucks. he thinks i’m not into him, but that’s not true. he tries… i just… anyway, LJN knocked on my door today. he was only wearing a towel. i almost dropped to my knees right there and then. how does someone get abs like that? god, those arms… veiny and strong… maybe i should call my boyfriend and try again…

a slow smirk stretched across jeno’s lips. so your boyfriend can’t get you off, but i make you wet that easily? he thought.

his gaze drifted to your bed. the sheets were a tangled mess, barely clinging to the mattress. did you write that post after touching yourself last night? thinking about him?

he exhaled through his nose, head shaking like he couldn’t believe it. but god, his stomach clenched at the thought of you squirming with his name in your head.

sure, he knew people found him attractive. girls threw themselves at him all the time. but you? who argued with him over stupid shit, called him an asshole just this morning while throwing a sock at his head?

you wanted him. wanted him so bad you spilled it online for strangers to read.

his gaze flicked back to the screen, to the words where you described his cologne driving you crazy.

he should’ve stopped reading but instead, he clicked on another post.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next morning, you woke up to find your laptop working perfectly. no note, no sarcastic comment scribbled on a post-it, nothing. just fixed.

weird.

you headed downstairs, fully expecting jeno to be in his usual morning mood, grumbling about chores, throwing half-hearted jabs just to rile you up. but when you found him on the couch, he was… quiet.

"hey," you said, grabbing a drink from the fridge. "so… thanks for fixing my laptop."

he barely glanced up, his gaze flickering over your bare legs for a heartbeat before settling back on his phone.

"yeah, no problem."

...that’s it?

you waited. no snark about your messy folders? no whining about how you owed him now?

your brows knit. "you okay?"

jeno stretched his legs, shorts riding up just enough to show more of his muscular thighs. "yeah, why wouldn’t i be?"

"i dunno," you said, eyeing him. "you’re acting weird."

he chuckled, head tilting as he shot you a lazy grin. "i’m always like this in the mornings. maybe you just don’t pay enough attention to me."

"trust me," you muttered, taking a sip from your drink, "i pay plenty of attention to you."

jeno’s lips twitched almost into a smirk.

then he hummed.

"yeah, i know."

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next few days, jeno turned it over in his mind—how to play this.

sure, the whole thing was entertaining, but you were still his stepsister. technically. your parents weren’t married, but they’d been together for about four years, and you’d been living under the same roof since last year.

not that you and jeno were close. you barely crossed paths, always out with friends or holed up in your room when you were home. plus, he found you immature. spoiled. maybe it was the three-year age gap, or maybe it was how quickly you’d settled in and made this place your own. his dad had asked him to be patient with you—“it’s a big change for her”—but if you were struggling, you hid it well.

especially with how you put on that perfect little act for your parents. sweet and responsible. as if you weren’t sneaking your boyfriend in through the window at night. or slipping out when you thought no one noticed. jeno noticed.

he just never cared enough to call you out. but the hypocrisy definitely grated on him. pretending to be miss goody-two-shoes when, by your own confession, you were getting railed by a guy who couldn’t even get you off?

the irony wasn’t lost on him. neither was the opportunity.

he could confront you. he’d definitely enjoy to watch you squirm, see that spark of defiance flicker into panic. tempting.

but maybe… maybe he’d keep this to himself a little longer.

drag it out and see just how much fun he could have before you caught on.

the perfect opportunity presented itself only a few days later when your parents announced their trip to italy for valentine’s day. conveniently their anniversary was also coming up, so they’d be gone for two whole weeks.

“we’ll be back next sunday,” jeno’s dad said, ruffling your hair. “don’t do anything stupid while we’re gone.”

you rolled your eyes, half-smiling, but then his tone shifted as he turned to jeno.

“jeno, take care of her. don’t let her get into any trouble. no parties or anything reckless.”

jeno nodded without a word, eyes flicking toward you before he turned back to your dad with a forced grin. “got it.”

you mom stepped forward, kissing your cheek, her hand lingering on your shoulder a moment longer. “be good, okay? we’re trusting you.” her gaze softened but held an unmistakable warning beneath it.

you knew exactly why. after all, it wasn’t like you had a spotless record. just three months ago, you had come home drunk after sneaking out to a friend’s party. what was supposed to be "just a few drinks" had turned into you singing on top of the table and someone posting it to their story. your parents found out the next morning, thanks to your neighbor, of all people, who’d seen the video. it hadn’t even been that scandalous, except for the fact that you were obviously drunk and under 21 at the time.

the hangover was bad, but the lecture was worse. "you’re lucky jeno was there to drag you home," your mom had said, shooting you a disappointed look. jeno had played the responsible older kid that night, carrying you out before things got worse. but that didn’t stop your parents from being more protective now. especially of you.

still, it annoyed you that all the warnings were directed your way while jeno stood there looking like a saint, when you knew he was anything but. sure, he hadn’t gotten wasted like you, but he was at the same party smoking weed on the back porch, making out with some girl whose name he probably didn’t even know, and encouraging shots like he was the party host. he was just lucky none of that was caught on camera, unlike you.

when the front door closed behind them, a strange silence settled over the house. you watched through the window as they loaded their luggage into the car and drove off. two weeks alone with jeno. what could possibly go wrong?

“guess it’s just us now,” you muttered.

jeno’s lips twitched into a small smile. "looks like it."

his gaze flickered over your body while you were distracted. this will be so much fun, he thought.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the house felt bigger without your parents around. normally, you’d take full advantage by inviting friends over, staying out late, and enjoying in the freedom. but something about being alone with jeno had you on edge.

not uncomfortable, just… wary.

he’d been acting strange lately. not openly, but enough that you noticed. it was in the way he looked at you now, like he knew something you didn’t.

you were scrolling through your phone in the kitchen that night when he strolled in.

"big plans while they’re gone?" he asked, pulling open the fridge.

"nothing crazy," you said, thumb still flicking at your screen. "just enjoying the peace and quiet."

he let out a low hum, the kind that sounded like he was holding back a laugh. "right. because you’re such a quiet, well-behaved girl."

your scrolling stopped. your gaze snapped up to him. "where’s that coming from?"

jeno didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer reaching past you for a glass in the cabinet overhead. the movement brought him close enough that his cologne hit you warm, musky, annoyingly good.

"you know," he murmured, voice just above a whisper, "you might fool them. but not me."

your heart skipped. "i have no idea what you’re talking about."

he dipped his head slightly, eyes flickering to your cleavage.

"sure you don’t."

then he was gone, leaving you in the kitchen with your pulse pounding and a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

the weekend arrived quicker than expected, and despite jeno’s weirdness lately, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

until saturday.

jeno was sprawled on the couch, mindlessly tapping his fingers against his knee. his gaze drifted up just as you wandered into the living room, barefoot and still in your sleepwear—a thin tank top and shorts that barely covered your ass. you didn’t even glance his way, too focused on your phone as you padded toward the kitchen.

it was almost funny, how careless you were around him. clueless, really.

jeno bit back a smirk.

"you’re up early," he said, breaking the quiet.

you glanced over your shoulder while pouring cereal into a bowl. "uh… yeah?"

he shrugged. "figured you’d be catching up on sleep after sneaking out last night."

your hand faltered for half a second. it was subtle but enough for him to notice.

his grin widened as he leaned back against the couch cushions, arms draping lazily over the backrest. "right."

you set the cereal down with a little more force than necessary and turned to face him, arms crossed. "okay, what’s going on with you?”

"me?" he feigned innocence, eyebrows raising. "nothing, just making conversation."

your eyes narrowed, studying him. when he offered nothing else, you scoffed and turned back to the counter, muttering under your breath.

he’d never cared before. never commented on where you went or what you did. why was he suddenly so interested in you?

jeno used to treat you like background noise, a mild inconvenience at worst. now his gaze lingered longer whenever you walked into the room, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your skin prickle in ways you didn’t want to think about.

later that evening, you curled up on the couch with your laptop, half-heartedly scrolling through an assignment you had no intention of finishing. jeno sat across from you, phone in hand, occasionally flicking through something with the tv playing low in the background. it was peaceful enough… until he spoke.

"you know…" he stretched, shirt riding up just enough to expose the waistband of his boxers. "your boyfriend kinda sucks."

your fingers froze mid-typing.

"what?" you asked, tone clipped. you didn’t look up, but your jaw tightened on instinct.

he hummed, "if i were sneaking out every night, i’d hope it was worth it."

you shut the laptop with a snap. "why do you even care?"

jeno grinned, clearly satisfied that he’d gotten under your skin. "i don’t."

you stood abruptly, blood buzzing with irritation. "whatever. i’m going to bed."

he chuckled under his breath as you turned to leave, but the sound grated on you. it echoed in your head as you stalked halfway down the hall before…no. screw that.

you spun on your heel, storming back into the living room. "you don’t know shit," you bit out.

jeno glanced up, unconcerned. "about what?"

"me. my boyfriend."

that finally got his full attention. he set his phone down and tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "oh, you mean the boyfriend who keeps getting dumped and crawling back like a stray?"

your nostrils flared. "fuck you."

"i’m just saying—"

"no, you’re not ‘just saying’ anything," you cut him off, stepping closer. "you think you know everything about me just because we share a roof?"

"you’d be surprised," he shot back, annoyingly calm.

your fists clenched. "you don’t know what i need. so stop acting like you do."

for a split second, something flickered in his expression, gone too fast to name. then his usual smirk slid back into place.

"i don’t need to know what you need." he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "i already know what you want."

your breath hitched. you hated that, hated the way your pulse jumped at his words, at the confidence in his voice. what the hell did that even mean?

"you’re an asshole," you snapped. "i don’t owe you an explanation."

jeno nodded, like he agreed. "then why are you still standing here?"

your face burned with frustration, but you bit your tongue. there was nothing you could say that wouldn’t make this worse. so you did the next best thing, you turned on your heel and walked away, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

and yet, lying in bed later, the back of your mind replayed his words on a loop. you still felt like you’d lost.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

hours passed and you were still pissed.

your whole body ached with it, hot and restless, like something crawling under your skin. jeno’s words sunk in deep, wrapping around you like barbed wire, too sharp, too true.

‘your boyfriend kinda sucks’ his voice rang in your ears.

no, your boyfriend was nearly perfect. he had all the right looks, the right voice, the right everything and yet… somehow, even after months of trying, of letting him touch you, of trying to want it—

you never got turned on with him. not the way you were now after a simple argument with jeno.

your hand moved before you could think, fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts, finding that sticky warmth between your thighs. a shaky breath left you, head tipping back against the pillows. it wasn’t enough. god, it wasn’t nearly enough. you needed—fuck, you didn’t even know what you needed. just more. something to fill the ache, to drown out the way his voice echoed in your head. i don’t need to know what you need. i already know what you want.

stop.

you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to picture your boyfriend, to think about the way he kissed you, the way he whispered your name, the way he touched you.

but your body rejected it. the images blurred, twisted, morphed.

and suddenly it wasn’t his hands you were thinking about.

It was jeno’s slender fingers.

your fingertips grazed that sensitive spot, slick and throbbing, pulling a broken sound from your lips. your hips rolled up into your hand, chasing any semblance of relief. you let out a quiet, shuddering breath as your stomach clenched, your pulse kicking up as you fought it, fought him, fought the way his image took over.

but it was useless.

your body didn’t listen. it latched onto the memory of him. the way his pretty lips curled right before he was about to say something you knew would piss you off, the way his voice dipped when he was toying with you, the way his hands always fidgeted, tapping against his thigh, against his lips, always doing something.

your lips parted as your fingers moved faster, your other hand slid up your stomach, pushing up your shirt as your breath stuttered.

would he keep his rings on while touching you?

the thought sent a sharp pulse of arousal through you, your body tightening, the wetness between your thighs growing slicker.

you imagined his long fingers and the coolness of the rings against your skin. would he drag them over your stomach, trace your thighs, tease you with them first? or would he shove them inside right away?

you bit your lip, your fingers pressing down harder, teasing yourself the way he would, the way he might if he ever—

a moan slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “jeno…”

outside your door, jeno’s world fucking stopped. his body was tight, his breath stuck in his throat as he pressed himself against the wood.

he shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t be standing outside your room, shouldn’t be looking through the small crack where the door hadn’t shut all the way.

but fuck.

fuck, you were so loud. did you even realize?

did you know how needy you sounded? the way your voice cracked, the way your breathing hitched, the way you whimpered when you…

jeno exhaled sharply, gripping the doorframe, trying to keep himself in check. but his mind was already too far gone. because if you were touching yourself to him, and if you were so desperate you couldn’t even keep quiet or make sure the the door was closed all the way… then maybe you wanted to get caught.

maybe you wanted him to see.

his breath came out slow and measured as he peeked through the crack, his body heating at the sight before him. the dim glow of your bedside lamp cast soft shadows over your skin, your legs spread wide, fingers buried deep inside yourself. the slick sounds of your movements, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted as you moaned his name. fuck, it was too much.

he felt himself throbbing painfully against his sweats, already aching from just watching you. his cock was so fucking hard it hurt.

he pulled himself out, his fingers wrapping around the thick length, hot and pulsing in his palm. he let out a sharp breath as he started stroking himself, matching his pace to the rhythm of your fingers slipping in and out of your pretty cunt.

he wanted to be the one touching you.

he imagined it, his fingers stretching you open, pumping in and out, his thumb circling your clit until you were shaking, whimpering against his mouth. would you let him fuck you raw the first time? god, you’d feel so good around him, so tight, clenching down on him like you never wanted him to pull out. he let out a quiet groan, biting his lip to keep himself from making any noise, even though part of him wanted you to hear him, wanted you to know exactly what you were doing to him.

your moans were getting louder, your breaths coming faster, more frantic. you were close, he could tell, your body was begging for release, and he wished, more than anything, that he could be the one to push you over the edge.

he knew that no one else could make you feel like this. not even your boyfriend, the one you pretended was enough for you. that idiot had the privilege of touching you, of being inside you, and still you weren’t getting off on thoughts of him. no, it was jeno’s name spilling from your lips as you fucked yourself.

his hand tightened around his cock, his strokes quickening. "cum for me, baby," he whispered under his breath, his forehead pressing harder against the doorframe.

maybe you heard him, maybe you didn’t, but your moans pitched higher, your fingers moving faster, your body trembling on the other side of the door. fuck—you were close, so fucking close, and he was right there with you. his jaw went slack, his breaths coming in ragged pants as the pleasure slammed into him, hot and heavy. his cock pulsed, his body shaking, cum spilling over his fingers in thick streaks as he saw you falling apart in your bed at the same time.

his body tensed, every nerve sparking as he milked himself through the high, swallowing back the urge to moan out your name. he barely had the presence of mind to tuck himself back into his sweats before he started dripping onto the carpet. that would’ve been a dead giveaway. but even as he came down from it, the heat in his chest didn’t fade. because now he knew just how badly you wanted him.

and he wasn’t going to just let it go.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

so, he was back outside your room the following night.

your door was closed all the way this time. he swallowed hard, his pulse hammering as he curled his fingers around the doorknob, testing it. it turned just a fraction before stopping. it was locked. he expected this. he had the feeling you suspected he’d seen you or at least heard you last night because you were unusually fidgety around him earlier today.

he exhaled slowly, lowering himself down until his face was level with the keyhole, his breath shallow as he listened. the obscene sounds of your fingers working between your thighs were unmistakable, each wet stroke sending another pulse of heat straight to his cock. he knew you were thinking about him again. your boyfriend wasn’t here, who the fuck else would you be touching yourself to?

he let his hand trail down, palming himself over his sweats, but this time, it wasn’t enough. he needed more.

his fingers drifted down to his pocket, curling around the small, thin tool he’d stolen from mark’s junk drawer earlier. jeno wasn’t an idiot, he knew to be prepared this time. hearing wouldn’t do it for him, he needed to see you again.

he slid the tool into the keyhole, his other hand steadying the knob as he worked it. it wasn’t his first time picking a lock. he’d done it plenty of times as a teen, sneaking into forbidden rooms at school, usually to make out with random girls. but this was different. he was breaking into his stepsister’s room so he could watch her touch herself. his hands itched, his whole body thrumming with a dangerous kind of thrill.

the lock gave a quiet click and he held his breath trying to listen for any indication that you noticed. after he thought it was safe, he twisted the handle and pushed the door just enough to crack it open.

and fuck, what a sight it was.

you were sprawled on your bed, your legs were in a butterfly position this time, your skin glistening with sweat. your shirt was hiked up all the way giving him the perfect sight of your tits. your panties were pushed down completely and he could see the way your fingers disappeared inside you. his name started slipping from your lips again, breathy, ruined. he clenched his jaw, his cock started to throb painfully at the sight.

you were so fucking beautiful like this. needy, desperate, chasing a high that only he could truly give you.

he licked his lips, watching the way your back arched, your fingers curling inside you as you edged yourself closer. his own hand slipped into his sweats, wrapping around his length, stroking slow, lazy, savoring the moment. he should leave. should close the door and pretend this never happened. but instead, he kept watching, his lips parting in a silent exhale as he imagined once again what it would be like to replace your fingers with his own.

or better yet, his cock.

you had no idea he was here. no idea you were putting on a show just for him.

there was no way in hell he was going to stop now.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you’d been locking your door more often now. you weren’t sure why. it didn’t make sense, but the feeling just wouldn’t go away. the feeling that you were being watched.

maybe it was the fact that you thought you heard a moan outside your door the other night. or maybe the fact that your panties had mysteriously gone missing from the laundry basket. and there was only one other person living with you at the moment. you tried to tell yourself it was paranoia. after all, why would jeno do something like that? he didn’t have fantasies like you, right?

still, something felt different when he was around. especially when you bumped into him in the kitchen or living room. the tension was so thick as if the space between you was charged, waiting for something, or someone, to cross the line.

you tried to distract yourself, flicking through jersey shore reruns with half your mind still on him. but as soon as you heard footsteps approaching, your pulse spiked. your body clearly not knowing the difference between riding a roller coaster, and your stepbrother entering the room.

you glanced up, trying to force a bored expression. the moment your eyes landed on him, however, everything in you froze. his damp hair stuck to his forehead, a towel draped loosely around his neck. his sweatpants hung low on his hips, his boxers peeking, and the way his white shirt clung to his chest made it feel like the room was closing in around you.

you swallowed hard.

he caught your gaze, and for a split second, it felt like he saw right through you. like he knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling. but he didn’t say anything. he just walked over, sitting close enough that his leg brushed against yours. the space between you was so small, but it felt like a chasm, a void that you couldn’t bridge. you couldn’t move. not when your body was so painfully aware of him.

“you like this trash?” his voice was casual, but his eyes were anything but. they were on you, studying you.

you blinked, the question throwing you off guard. you hadn’t even realized he was talking about the show until he nodded toward it. “uh... yeah. it’s... entertaining,” you stammered, your voice sounding foreign in your own ears. you wanted to say more, to defend it, but the words wouldn’t come. your mind was fixated on him.

you tried to focus on the screen, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. his towel slipping from his shoulders, water droplets sliding down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. you could feel that familiar flutter in your lower stomach.

your fingers twitched, desperate to do something, anything, to alleviate the tightness.

jeno tilted his head slightly, his lips pulling into that almost imperceptible smirk, the one that made you want to either scream or crawl into him.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft, but there was something dangerous underneath. “you look tense.”

you didn’t answer immediately. instead, you shifted uncomfortably, your pulse hammering in your ears. he didn’t push, but the way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he had you cornered.

suddenly, the doorbell rang, and you shot up from the couch like you’d been electrocuted. your pulse was still racing, your thoughts tangled in knots you didn’t want to acknowledge. this was good. maybe whoever was at the door would shake you out of this haze.

but the second you opened it, you almost wished you hadn’t.

your boyfriend…or ex? you didn’t even know anymore, stood there holding a single rose in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other.

“happy valentine’s day,” he greeted, flashing that charming smile he knew melted you.

your eyes widened. you’d been so distracted you totally forgot the date. damn you, lee jeno.

“i’m sorry i didn’t call in advance,” he pushed the rose into your hand and leaned to kiss you “and i know we agreed to take a break… still, i couldn't just not come today…”

he lifted the bag on his other hand. “movie?”

you forced a smile, your stomach twisting guiltily for a second. even though your relationship was a bit unstable as of late, valentine’s wasn’t something you ever wanted to half-ass so it was a good thing you’d planned ahead.

you bought his gift the previous week, carefully wrapping the box yourself because you wanted it to feel special. a pair of shoes he’d been eyeing for months, a new band for his apple watch since his favorite one had broken recently, and a handwritten letter tucked inside, detailing how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him. You even spent extra time decorating the envelope, adding little doodles and stickers just to make him smile.

you should've felt some kind of relief, his presence should distract you from the wild thoughts swirling in your head. but as you stepped aside to let him in, that sense of relief never came.

because the moment you turned back, you remembered jeno was still there on the couch. you silently willed him with your mind to go to his room, maybe leave altogether.

but of course he didn’t.

“oh. hey, dude” your boyfriend said as he finally noticed him. “didn’t know your brother was here.”

you winced. that word. brother. your tongue itched to correct him, but what was the point? he knew you weren’t really siblings. he just chose to say it anyway.

jeno let the word hang in the air before he finally stood up, stretching his arms over his head before settling into a straighter posture. he never stood that straight, but he was making sure to show that he was at least two inches taller than your boyfriend. It was a subtle move, but you saw it for what it was. a challenge.

you almost scoffed at the sheer pettiness of it.

“ah, hello…” jeno drawled. “sorry, remind me of your name again?”

your boyfriend told him, his tone polite but slightly stiff.

“right,” jeno said, half-smiling. “didn’t know we’d be having visitors today…”

your boyfriend cleared his throat. “ah, that’s my bad. i didn’t tell her I was coming since I wanted to surprise her for Valentine’s”

“hm,” Jeno hummed. “well... as long as you two keep it in the living room, should be fine. gotta look out for my little sister while the parents are out, you know?”

you squeezed your eyes shut for half a second, inhaling slowly, forcing yourself to stay calm. he never called you that. also, who did he think he was playing house police all of a sudden?

“sit down, babe,” you said, your tone so sweet it sounded forced.

jeno scoffed under his breath, soft enough that only you heard it.

you ignored it, settling onto the couch as he disappeared into the kitchen. your boyfriend sat beside you, oblivious, scrolling through movies, while you shoved a chip into your mouth just to distract your mind.

suddenly, you heard clattering from the kitchen followed by a curse.

“uh, y/n… can you come help me real quick?”

you squeezed your eyes shut.

“what did you break now?” you called, already exasperated.

"your mom’s china," he called back. "think i broke like two plates. maybe three. hard to say. pretty sure she’ll notice, though."

shit. you were on your feet before you could think, muttering a quick, “sorry, i’ll be right back,” as you hurried toward the kitchen.

the moment you stepped inside, irritation flared hotter in your chest.

“are you kidding me? what were you even doing near those? my mom explicitly said—” you voiced trailed off when you saw there was no broken china. no mess. nothing.

just jeno, standing there with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk so infuriating you wanted to slap it off his face.

your hands curled into fists. “what are you doing?”

“really?” he ignored your glare, tilting his head mockingly. “he brought snacks and a single rose?” he let out a dry chuckle. “it’s valentine’s day for god’s sake, he could’ve at least tried.”

“i like simple things,” you shot back. “i don’t need a big fucking production”

jeno took a step closer making your breath get stuck in your throat. he wasn’t touching you, wasn’t even crowding you, but fuck he might as well have been, with the way your body tensed.

his voice dropped lower. “are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

he clearly wanted to get a reaction out of you and you refused to give it to him.

his gaze flicked down to your lips, pursed at him, and yet so pretty. he could still remember them parting and gasping his name last night.

"bet it gets tiring to pretend so much” he leaned in slightly.

you took a sharp step back.

“just… get out of my business,” you snapped, breath uneven.

jeno’s lips curled. “sure thing.” his eyes glinted with dark amusement. “hope you have fun with mr. buzzkill.”

your jaw clenched as you spun on your heel, storming back to the living room. who the hell did he think he was? since when did he have an opinion on your love life? he’d never cared before, never questioned, never even acknowledged it. so why now?

he kept pushing, prodding, playing with you.

and the worst part was that you were letting him. you knew you should ignore him. his opinion didn’t matter anyways.

so why couldn’t you stop paying attention to him?

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you decided to push jeno out of your mind, and what better way than by surrounding yourself with people you actually liked?

a pool party seemed like the perfect distraction. it was nothing too crazy, just a few close friends from college. the weather had been unusually nice all week, the kind of warmth that made everything feel a little hazy, the sun kissing your skin as you lay stretched out on a lounge chair, still damp from your swim. it was the perfect excuse to bask in the sun, let the tension ease from your body, and pretend jeno didn’t exist.

jenny, lying beside you on her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and let out an exaggerated sigh. “by the way, where’s your hot brother?”

you sighed, not even bothering to open your eyes. “stop calling him that. people might actually think i'm related to that jerk.”

“honestly, though,” natty chimed in, rubbing tanning oil on her arms. “how have you not jumped his bones yet? he’s so fine.”

you scoffed, finally cracking an eye open to glare at her. “he’s really not all that. if you guys lived with him, you wouldn’t think like this.”

jenny turned onto her side, her smirk downright sinful. “girl, if i lived with him i'd let him do unspeakable things to me every night.”

you fingers tightened around your drink as something hot and unwanted curled low in your stomach. if only they knew the things you did thinking about him late at night.

belle made a face from where she sat at the edge of the pool. “you guys are gross.”

jenny just shrugged, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “why? they’re not even related.”

belle wrinkled her nose. “yes, but they live together. it’s still weird.”

jenny hummed, resting her chin on her shoulder as she eyed you knowingly. “whatever, i meant what i said.”

“does he have a girlfriend?” natty asked, stretching her legs out as she adjusted her sunglasses.

you shrugged, taking another sip of your piña colada. “i don’t know. i mean, he barely leaves the house. i doubt he has much of a social life… probably the most socially inept guy i’ve ever met.” the words left your mouth lazily, but the moment they did, a shadow loomed over you, blocking out the sun.

you didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

you tilted your head back after a few seconds of silently cursing your big mouth. your heart did a million backflips as you locked eyes with jeno, who was now standing directly behind your chair. his head was tilted just slightly, a slow smirk playing at his lips.

you gulped slowly, and wished the chair would just swallow you whole. did he hear what you just said?

his gaze flickered over you, amused, but there was something heavier in the way his eyes traced over your bikini-clad figure. and then you realized he wasn’t in his usual hoodie and sweatpants. instead, he wore a fitted jean jacket over a graphic tee from a band you didn’t recognize, paired with tight black jeans. even his hair was styled, it looked like he got a fresh undercut, even added some designs on the side. he felt like an entirely different person. he looked good. too good.

“hello, ladies,” he greeted smoothly, his voice deep.

your friends giggled, but you barely registered them because jeno’s attention was back on you in a second.

“does dad know you’re having a party?” he asked, his voice had a teasing lilt to it, but there was something slightly patronizing underneath.

you rolled your eyes. “it’s just a few people.” get off my ass, you almost added but bit your tongue.

his smirk didn’t falter. “mhm… hope so, ‘cause he can see everything through those.” he pointed toward the security cameras, and something about the way he said it made irritation prickle at your skin.

he had the audacity to call your boyfriend a buzzkill, yet here he was, trying to kill any potential fun you could have.

“anyway,” he continued, “this socially inept guy is heading out.”

you breath caught in your throat. so he did hear you.

his eyes flickered over your body once more, and before you could respond, his hand brushed over your shoulder in a touch so fleeting, so meaningless, it shouldn’t have made your entire body lock up the way it did.

“call me if there’s an emergency,” he said. “be good, yeah?”

the second he was out of earshot, the giggles started back up, hushed and scandalized. your skin still burned where his touch had ghosted over you, and you hated that you wanted to turn your head, watch him leave, memorize the way he looked just now.

you swallowed hard, pressing your cold glass against your lips and forcing yourself to pretend that none of it affected you.

after several minutes of listening to your friends gush about jeno, how good he looked, how he smelled like expensive cologne, blah blah blah, you decided you’d had enough. you pushed yourself up from the lounge chair and made your way inside with the excuse of refilling your drink.

as you passed through the living room, a flicker of movement outside caught your eye. jeno was still there, standing near the edge of the sidewalk. his fingers dipped into his pocket, retrieving something small, and curiosity got the better of you. you squinted, trying to make out what he was holding.

despite knowing better, you grabbed a lightweight cover-up dress from the hook by the door and slipped it over your shoulders before stepping outside. the afternoon air carried the scent of chlorine and the faintest trace of citrus from the trees lining the house.

“since when do you smoke?” you asked, approaching him cautiously.

jeno turned his head slightly. the corner of his lips curled in that maddening way of his. without breaking eye contact, he placed the cigarette between his lips, the unlit end resting against the soft curve of his mouth.

“i don’t,” he said dismissively but then, he struck a match against his finger and the tiny flame came to life. the sight of it held your attention for just a second too long. probably because you’d never seen anyone light a match like that, or the fact that he was gaslighting you so casually.

“i thought you said you were going to hang out with friends,” you pressed, crossing your arms as you watched the flame kiss the tip of the cigarette.

“i said i was going to hang out,” he corrected, taking a slow drag before exhaling it in your direction, the smoke curling between you. “i didn't say with friends.”

you barely resisted the urge to cough, your throat tightening at the thick scent of tobacco. before you could call him out on this, the low rumble of an engine broke through the silence.

a black jeep screeched to a stop at the foot of your driveway, tires skidding slightly against the pavement. you instinctively took a step back as the vehicle came to a jarring halt. the tinted window rolled down, revealing a girl with jet-black hair that framed her face in glossy waves. he lips, painted a deep cherry red, curved into a smile that was just a little too perfect.

“sorry, i’m late!” she said, her voice airy, with a sing-song quality that immediately set your teeth on edge “there was so much traffic.”

“sure you didn’t just get pulled over for reckless driving?” jeno chuckled before taking another slow drag from his cigarette.

“mo, silly!” she giggled, her voice turning annoyingly flirtatious as she leaned a little closer over the window. “did you doll up just for me?”

“sure,” jeno replied casually. you didn’t catch the way his eyes flicked to you for just a split second because you were busy trying to mask the seething annoyance that was threatening to show in your expression. you didn’t even know this girl, and yet, the way she was acting was irritating you deeply.

“let me drive,” jeno said, pulling the door open for her to step out. you noticed the way she purposely wobbled slightly to fall directly into his arms.

“careful,” he said, his voice deep and resonant as he steadied her, the sound of it sending a heavy vibration through your chest.

“if your wet blanket of a boyfriend shows up later,” he continued once inside the car, his words laced with a hint of condescension, “just try not to fuck around in the pool, okay? remember, someone’s always watching.” the way he said that left a strange, uneasy knot in your stomach, the implication of his words lingering far too long.

before you could even muster a response, he slammed the jeep into gear and drove off.

it was around 9 pm when you decided to call it a night. your boyfriend hadn’t even shown up. he claimed he had to help his dad with “stuff” but you hadn’t really paid attention to the details. you weren’t interested in hearing excuses anyway.

your friends pouted, complaining that you should let them stay and have a sleepover, but you weren’t in the mood. they only left after you promised to do it another time.

you wandered upstairs, feeling the fatigue from the evening settle in your bones. the water from the shower was almost too hot, but you welcomed the burn as it stripped the chlorine from your skin. you lingered under the steam, savoring the quiet of the house.

once you were done, you meticulously moisturized your skin with extra attention to the dryness that clung to your arms after the pool and the heat of the shower. you threw on your usual pjs, a loose tank top and shorts. you thought of the way jeno’s dark eyes followed you whenever you wore them.

you made your way to the living room and sank onto the couch to watch tv, hyper aware of the ticking sound of the clock. the hands crept closer to 11 p.m. and you found your thoughts drifting despite your best attempts to focus. jeno’s face floated into your mind, his dark eyes flickering with amusement whenever he saw you. you tried to push it away but your mind kept returning to him and that girl with jet-black hair.

the sting of your nails digging into the palsn of your hands is what snapped you out of it. the thought of him with her… doing what? it didn’t even matter. why should it matter?

you decided to go to bed after realizing it was stupid to wait for him to come back.

it was around 2 am when you were jerked awake by the sound of shuffling outside your door. you heard a giggle followed by a hushed voice right before your door creaked open, and you quickly squeezed your eyes shut again.

"shit, wrong room," you heard jeno whisper, and your breath caught in your throat. you opened one eye just enough to see him standing in the doorway, the girl with jet-black hair practically draped around his neck.

she pulled him down into a kiss, and you watched, frozen, as they made out right there in front of your door. her soft moans echoed through the space along with the sounds of their hands fondling each other’s bodies.

they continued, oblivious to the fact that you were very much awake, until jeno finally pulled the door closed behind him, muffling the noises just enough for you to breathe again.

the anger hit you immediately, and the indignation that followed was almost comical in its intensity. with what face had he told you not to "mess around" at home because your parents were always watching, only to go and do this? right in front of your room, no less?

you heard the shuffle of movement in his room next door, and a chilling realization sank in.

they were about to have sex, and you’d hear every damn second of it.

it wasn’t like you’d never snuck your boyfriend in late at night before. But all you ever did was suck him off or let him finger you. you never actually had proper sex. not for lack of trying, but rather the issues you’d been having getting… aroused with him.

the moans started, soft at first, then louder. each sound felt like a needle, digging deeper into the pit of your stomach. you squeezed your eyes shut again, wishing, begging to be anywhere but within earshot of the noise that now felt like it was tearing your insides apart.

you could hear everything. the soft thuds of their clothes hitting the floor, the creak of the mattress as they fell onto it. jeno’s rough groans, the breathless whimpers he tried and failed to suppress. the wet, obscene sounds of him moving inside her. the desperate gasps, the frantic whisper of his name from her lips. their mouths meeting over and over again, the muffled, needy sounds of them colliding filling the space.

every movement, every noise, was painfully clear, as if you were right there in the room with them.

you wanted to disappear. crawl under your bed. evaporate into the walls. oh, the walls. the godforsaken, paper-thin walls that some sadistic architect clearly designed just to ruin your life.

you pressed a pillow over your head, begging for the sounds to stop, but it was useless. they only grew louder.

“jeno… i’m close,” she whimpered, voice high and shaking.

“cum for me…” he responded, breathless.

and suddenly, amidst the debauchery of sounds, you heard it.

your name.

spoken in a broken moan.

your breath stilled. for a second, you thought you must have imagined it, that your mind was playing a cruel trick on you. but then—

you heard it again. louder. needier.

jeno was calling your name as he came.

a paralyzing shock shot through you, pinning you to the mattress. your pulse hammering so hard you thought your heart might bruise your chest cavity. you stared at the ceiling, unblinking, as his moans settled over you like a suffocating weight.

silence followed, broken only by their uneven breaths. then you heard the rustle of sheets as they untangled from each other.

“can i stay the night?” the girl asked, her voice still heavy with satisfaction.

“no,” jeno said, voice oddly cold and detached. “my parents are gonna be here in the morning.”

that was a lie. your parents weren’t coming back until the following weekend.

you were still too shocked to move, too shaken to process what had just happened. but as you listened to her gather her things, to the sound of jeno walking her to the door without so much as an ounce of warmth in his tone, one thing became terrifyingly clear...

he hadn’t just used her. he’d been thinking about you while doing so.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you didn’t sleep. not for a single minute.

the shadows in your room shifted as the hours crawled by. it felt impossible to close your eyes without hearing it all over again. your name on his lips.

when your phone screen finally read 6:00 a.m, you gave up on sleep entirely, throwing off the sheets and slipping out of bed like a ghost.

you tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, fingers numb as you grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim. the cold water slid down your throat in greedy gulps, but it did nothing to cool yourself.

then, a breathless laugh tore from your lips, unhinged and bitter. the sheer absurdity of it all crashed into you at once, like a sick joke the universe decided to play on you. jeno had been inside another girl, and yet, it was your name that spilled out of his lips.

the laughter bubbled up harder. it must have been loud enough to wake him, because a few moments later, footsteps padded into the kitchen.

jeno stood in the doorway, eyes heavy with sleep, brows pinched together as he took in the sight of you, your back was turned to him, shoulders trembling with laughter that didn’t seem to belong to you.

“the hell is wrong with you?” his voice was groggy.

you stopped, forcing the manic grin off your face before turning slightly away, shielding yourself from his scrutiny. god, if he saw the way you were smiling right now, he really would think you lost your mind.

“are you high?” he asked, a little more forcefully this time.

you let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. i wish. maybe if you were high, this wouldn’t feel so real. maybe you wouldn’t still hear his voice in your head from the night before, broken and desperate, calling for you.

a shiver ran down your spine when you felt jeno move closer behind you. you could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, the faint smell of sleep and last night’s scent clinging to him. his hand clamped down on your shoulder, turning you around with an impatient tug.

“no, seriously.” his voice was lower now, forcing you to meet his gaze. “did you do drugs last night?”

your breath hitched when his chest brushed against yours, and that’s when you remembered you weren’t wearing a bra. the thin fabric of your tank top did nothing to hide the way your nipples hardened at the contact.

you saw the flicker in his expression, the brief second of realization when his gaze dropped.

“what do you care?” you shot back instead, tilting your chin up defiantly.

you liked the way his jaw ticked when you pushed him.

his grip on your chin was sudden, firm, tilting your face until your eyes locked with his. his fingers were rough and the touch sent something dark and electric crackling under your skin.

you ripped yourself from his grasp, grimacing. “don’t touch me. i know where that hand has been.”

jeno laughed, a rich sound that made your throat close.

“oh, so you heard.”

you scoffed. “of course i heard. it was impossible not to when you were being so loud.”

his smirk deepened. “then you know my struggle.”

he stepped forward, pressed you further against the counter until there was barely any air between your bodies. this was the closest you had ever been to him.

your heart slammed against your ribs, but you refused to shrink away. if anything, it only made you glare harder, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

“i hear everything you do in your room too.”

he paused, letting his finger curl around a stray hair falling over your face.

“every night.”

your lips parted, but nothing came out except a sharp inhale.

his eyes fluttered across your features, lingering on your lips, still wet from the water you just drank.

“wh-what…”

“yeah.” his grin grew sharper, his perfect teeth peeking out to tug at his lower lip. “every time you sneak your dumbass boyfriend in.”

his fingers brushed against the counter beside you, caging you in completely.

“every time you touch yourself…”

you swallowed, looking between his neck and shoulder, unable to meet his dark eyes.

“and you do that a lot lately.”

you gulped to soothe your dry throat, wishing he couldn’t somehow smell how aroused you were getting. you hated the way your body reacted to him, how your thighs pressed together on instinct. he noticed. the bastard always noticed everything.

he was still pressed so close you could feel the steady rise and fall of his hard chest against yours, the heat of his skin bleeding into yours like fire licking at gasoline.

“i—” you started, but your voice cracked.

jeno tilted his head, “what?” his voice was a murmur meant for just the two of you. his lips curved, but the smile wasn’t kind, it was wicked. “got nothing to say now?”

you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your stomach twisted into knots. “fuck you.”

his smile widened. “i mean, that’s what you always think about, isn’t it?” he murmured.

your breath caught in your throat. he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear that you felt the ghost of them graze your skin.

“you touch yourself thinking about me.”

a wave of heat crawled up your neck. you shouldn’t be reacting this way. shouldn’t be giving yourself away this easily.

you inhaled sharply, gathering every ounce of strength left in your body before shoving at his chest, pushing him away. he let you, barely stumbling back.

“go to hell, jeno.”

you turned on your heel, ready to storm out, to get as far away from him as possible—

but you barely made it two steps before his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. he yanked you back against him, spinning you around so fast that you barely had time to register the shift before your back was against the counter again, his body crowding yours.

his grip tightened, but not enough to hurt just enough to hold you there.

"what are you doing?" you demanded, pressing a hand to his chest. "i have a boyfriend."

he laughed bitterly "oh, please. we both know he doesn’t even make you wet."

“how do you—?” you swallowed, barely able to get the words out.

the realization suddenly settled like lead in your gut. he read it. your blog. the one you used to vent frustrations you couldn’t say out loud, the one that held every unspoken insecurity, every late-night confession you never meant for anyone to see. every filthy thought about him.

and jeno of all people had gotten his hands on it. that’s why he’d been acting so strange lately.

your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, not pulling him closer, but gripping like you needed something to hold onto before you lost your mind.

his smirk deepened as he saw the expression of horror in your face.

“you should really clear your browser history,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “or, better yet…maybe don’t keep the tabs open on a laptop you asked me to fix.”

the bastard wasn’t even sorry for invading your privacy.

your pulse roared in your ears as you tried to school your expression, trying to make it seem like you weren't two seconds away from spiraling.

“i don’t—” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

he leaned in, voice dipping lower. “oh don’t quit on me now. you had plenty to say in that little blog of yours.”

his fingers traced your jaw softly.

“especially about me.”

he grinned, teeth grazing his bottom lip as he watched your reaction unfold in real time. “what was it you said?” he pretended to think. “oh, right. he pisses me off more than anyone else, but i bet he fucks like a god.’”

you shoved him again but he barely stumbled, just let out a low chuckle like he was thrilled by your anger.

“what’s wrong?” he taunted. “embarrassed?”

“shut up.”

“aww, c’mon, don’t be shy now. i read the whole thing, you’ve definitely thought about this exact moment before.”

you wanted to die. right there on the kitchen floor. just disintegrate and never have to endure the smug, self-satisfied look on his face ever again.

but worse than the embarrassment? worse than the rage twisting inside you like a coil ready to snap?

was the terrifying, undeniable truth.

he knew you wanted him.

jeno moved closer, and you instinctively backed into the counter, your hands gripping the cool edge.

his smirk was insufferable. giddy, almost.

“god, you should see your face right now,” he murmured, tilting his head. “all pink and flustered. just like i imagined.”

your eyes darted across his face in shock.

“oh yeah,” he continued, watching the realization flicker in your eyes. “you’re not the only one who’s fantasized about this, baby”

“i don’t fantasize,” you said quickly, hoping to salvage some dignity.

jeno just laughed. “save it.”

he reached up, tucking another stray strand of hair behind your ear, the way someone might handle something delicate, except the glint in his eye was anything but soft.

“i said i read everything,” he reminded you, voice dripping with satisfaction. “i even memorized that one post, the one where you talk about my fingers—”

“don’t,” you interrupted, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence.

bad move. because now his lips were pressed against your palm, his breath hot against your skin. and he didn’t pull away.

instead, his dark eyes locked onto yours making your pulse stutter. he reached up, prying your hand away from his mouth, but instead of letting it go, he brought it lower flat against his bare chest, over the steady thump of his heartbeat.

“i like knowing your secrets,” he murmured. “i like knowing what gets in that pretty little head of yours late at night.”

your stomach flipped.

“and you know what i like the most?” he dipped his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “i like knowing that no matter how much you fight me on this,” he whispered, “you’ve already given yourself to me.”

his lips brushed from your ear down to the corner of your mouth, until finally, they met yours. you barely registered how easily your lips parted for him until his tongue slid in, claiming you. a groan slipped out before you could stop it.

you knew you should push him away. you should. but the thought barely even formed before it was gone, lost in the heat of his mouth.

"aren’t you gonna stop me?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to make you chase his lips.

you didn’t move, didn’t shove him away, didn’t say a damn thing.

his lips curled. "didn’t think so.”

then he kissed you harder, rougher. his fingers cradling your face while his other hand slid lower, gripping a handful of your ass. you gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling you flush against him.

his knee pressed between your legs, shifting just right, and you moaned. his lips curved against yours. "there’s my good girl."

heat flared up your spine, equal parts humiliation and arousal. some semblance of reason came over you and you pushed at his chest, but he caught your wrist, pinning it against the counter.

"you wrote about how bad you wanted me to take you right here in this kitchen," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. "want me to remind you?"

"shut up," you groaned, twisting your wrist free and shoving at him properly this time.

he didn’t budge. he only laughed, nipping at your lower lip before angling your face up, kissing you deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world. his hand slid from your ass to your thigh, hiking it higher around his hip.

the new angle made you feel him, every inch of his hard length pressing right against your core, and you gasped. he thrust against you and the groan he let out sent a pulse of heat straight to your stomach.

"fuck," he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours, his hips rolling again. "you feel that?"

your fingers curled into his shirt, whimpers spilling out of you as he kept humping you.

jeno’s grip tightened on your thigh, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked against you, his breath hot against your lips. “look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something darker. “clinging to me like this when you were just pretending to hate me a few minutes ago.”

you opened your mouth to argue, to deny, but all that came out was a sharp gasp as his hands slid under your tank top, fingers tracing lazy patterns up your ribs until they found your perked nipple. his knee pressed more insistently between your legs.

“jen—”

“shh.” he breathed against your lips. “you don’t have to say anything. your body’s already telling me everything i need to know.”

the way his lips ghosted over your jaw, then down your throat, made your breath hitch. you felt like you were drowning in the way he touched you, just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to give you what you really wanted.

“you’ve thought about this,” he mused, voice laced with satisfaction as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below your ear. “haven’t you? late at night, when you’re all alone…”

your nails dug into his shoulders as he ground against you again, harder this time. he was right. and that infuriated you.

“jeno,” you hissed, half warning, half plea.

“say it,” he murmured against your skin, hands slipping lower. “say you want me.”

you couldn’t do that. you still wanted to cling to some semblance of dignity. but then his fingers slipped inside your shorts, and the illusion that you ever stood a chance shattered.

your gasp turned into a strangled moan as his fingers dipped between your soaked folds, tracing slow circles, teasing you with featherlight strokes that had you melting against him. his breath was hot against your temple.

“if you don’t want this,” he murmured, “then maybe we should stop.”

and just like that, he started to retreat, his touch vanishing like a cruel tease.

“no,” you choked out, your hand gripping his wrist before he could pull away completely. “don’t stop… please.”

he tilted his head, savoring every ounce of your desperation. “you sure?” he mused, feigning innocence even as his lips, swollen and slick, curled into something devilish. “because if you think this is wrong, we really should stop.”

the bastard was toying with you, and worst of all, you found it maddeningly hot.

your nails dug into his arm, your body thrumming with frustration and need. “jeno,” you warned, voice dangerously low. “if you don’t touch me right now, i’ll go upstairs and do it myself.”

you saw the moment his pupils dilated, a dark, almost feral hunger flashing in his eyes.

“oh, princess,” he crooned, his hand slipping back into your shorts in an instant, fingers resuming their torment with renewed urgency. “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

but instead of touching you like you needed, he yanked your shorts down, your panties dragging along with them in one swift motion. before you could form a single word, he hoisted you onto the counter with ease, the hard surface pressing into the backs of your thighs. your legs instinctively tried to close, but his grip tightened, keeping you open for him.

and then he dropped to his knees.

your stomach plummeted, anticipation coiling so tightly inside you that you felt dizzy. he looked up at you from beneath his thick lashes, eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with hunger. his hands dragged slowly up the inside of your thighs, spreading them further. his tongue darted out, wetting his lips like he was about to devour the best meal ever.

your walls clenched around nothing.

“jeno—” his name came out in a broken gasp.

“you’re shaking,” his breath ghosted over your core, making you jolt, making you ache. "what’s wrong, baby? nervous?"

the way his voice curled around the word baby, sent a fresh wave of heat straight between your legs. but you didn’t get the chance to answer.

because then he dove between your thighs.

the first stroke of his tongue had you gasping, hands flying to his hair as your head snapped back against the cabinets. the heat of his mouth had your body jerking before you could stop yourself, pleasure so intense it almost hurt.

his hands flexed against your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you still as he licked deep into you. and when he groaned you nearly lost it. the vibration shot straight through you, your stomach clenching, your thighs twitching against his grip.

“jeno—” his name was barely a breath, a desperate sound that made him hum against you, pleased. he pulled back just enough for his lips to brush over your skin.

“god, you taste even better than i imagined” he rasped.

and then he was back on you, tongue working faster, fingers digging into your thighs like he needed this, like he was getting off on the way you gasped, the way your body trembled under his mouth.

he wasn’t just eating you out. he was devouring you.

his tongue moved in slow strokes, drawing out every whimper that spilled from your lips. you tugged at his hair, grinding down harder, but he just chuckled against you. cocky bastard.

“needy, huh?” he murmured between licks. “thought you could handle it.”

you barely registered his words, too caught up in the way he worked you open. but then he pulled away, making you gasp at the loss.

“jeno—” you started to protest, but he was already grabbing you by the waist.

“quit whining,” he smirked, hoisting you up easily. you yelped, legs locking around his hips as he strode toward the stairs. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

your back hit the mattress a second later. you barely caught your breath before he tugged his pants down, the outline of his dick straining against his boxers.

jeno climbed onto the bed, gaze flicking over you with heat. you expected him to take you right then but he leaned back instead, hands behind his head.

“ride my face,” he said.

you froze, thinking he was joking for a second, but then you saw his his eyes and realized he was being completely serious. panic came over you, you’d never done this before, your boyfriend had never even eaten your out before, only fingered you. this was way more than that though.

“jeno—”

he raised a brow. “what, shy now?” his hands shot out, dragging you toward him. “c’mon, don’t start getting all sweet on me now.”

he positioned you right above his face. you swallowed, “jeno… i-i don’t know—“

“don’t worry baby, trust me”

and then he was spreading your legs further apart so you sank on his face slowly. his nose nuzzled between your folds first, the sharp line of it pushing against your core and making a guttural moan escape you.

his tongue followed, licking up and down, and prodding your entrance with insistence.

“oh, fuck—me” you whimpered, his hands on your hips guided you to press even harder against his face and even in your pleasure you worried he would drown in your cunt.

but when you looked down, there was nothing but pure bliss on his face, his eyes rolling back and his brows furrowed as he lapped relentlessly. it looked like he was enjoying this as much as you.

as your orgasm approached again, you couldn’t help but roll your hips against his face. the movement made his nose press further as his tongue continued licking long greedy strips against your clit.

“jeno—i...i’m—“ you moaned,

and your orgasm crashed over you with such a violent force it made you lean forward barely catching yourself with your arms before you could actually suffocate the boy under you.

you crawled down his body, your breath hitching as you took in the sight of his face glistening with your juices. his tongue swept out as he licked up every trace, dark eyes fixed on you.

his hands remained anchored on your hips, fingers flexing just enough to press you down against his body. you could feel him hard and burning through the thin fabric of his sweats. the instinctive grind of your hips had him exhaling a low chuckle. you wanted this, he wanted this, but something held you back. if you crossed this line… would you really be able to turn back?

you didn’t have time to find out because the sound of the doorbell ringing snapped you both out of your daze.

jeno blinked, looking toward the bedroom door. “seriously...?”

“shit—” you scrambled off him, tripping over your own limbs in the process.

“i’ll get it,” he offered, starting to sit up.

“no!” you shoved at his chest, pushing him back down. “your face, jeno— it’s covered in my—just—go wash it off!”

he grinned lazily. “didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago.”

“not the time!” you hissed, picking up your discarded clothes and putting them on.

jeno started, “i read somewhere that cum is really good for your skin—”

you didn’t dignify that with a response, slamming the door shut on your way out. your reflection in the living room mirror was a disaster: hair tousled, lips kiss-swollen, fresh marks blooming along your neck. you tugged your collar up and plastered on what you hoped passed for a normal expression before opening the door.

and promptly felt the ground vanish under you when you saw who was standing outside.

“hey, beautiful” your boyfriend said.

your mouth went dry. “oh. wow. hi—”

he held up a bouquet. “i realized we didn’t really do anything special for valentine’s, and you were so thoughtful with your gifts…” his other hand revealed a small box.

your heart twisted at the sight.

“figured you deserved something nice after everything you’ve done for me.” he opened the box to reveal a delicate necklace, your initial glinting in tiny diamonds. “also, i wanna take you out today”

you swallowed. “it’s... beautiful, thanks.”

“here.” he stepped forward, gently brushing your hair aside to fasten it around your neck. his fingers grazed your skin then stopped.

“you’ve got a mark,” he said, frowning. his thumb skimmed over the hickey, sending your pulse into overdrive.

“mosquito bite,” you blurted.

he raised an eyebrow. “looks... aggressive.”

“it was a big mosquito,” you managed with a nervous laugh.

“massive, actually” came jeno’s voice.

you turned just as he was descending the stairs, towel-drying his face and now dressed in…god help you, only sweatpants. fresh hickeys also peppered his collarbone and chest.

your boyfriend’s smile tightened. “hi, man. hope i didn’t wake you.”

jeno shrugged. “nah, i was just eating a delicious meal.” his gaze flicked to you with something too close to amusement.

you fought the urge to kick him in the balls. “so! you said something about... going out?” you blurted, trying to shift the topic.

“uh... yeah. a new amusement park opened up nearby. thought we could check it out.”

“sounds amazing! i’m in!” anything to get out of this situation.

“i’ll just… shower real quick,” you said, stepping back.

“i’ll put the flowers in water,” your boyfriend offered, heading toward the kitchen.

as soon as he disappeared, you turned to jeno and hissed, “are you insane?”

he chuckled. “i didn’t even do anything.”

“you’re standing there shirtless covered in hickeys i don’t even remember giving you!” you whisper-yelled.

“yeah you went a little crazy, who knew you wanted me this bad?”

you shot him a glare. “this isn’t funny.”

“it’s a little funny.”

you let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing your face. “god, you’re impossible.”

jeno leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of him. “wouldn’t be nearly as fun if i wasn’t.”

you shook your head and darted upstairs, pulse still racing. what the hell was your life right now?

you gave yourself only twenty minutes to get ready, worried about leaving your boyfriend alone with jeno for too long. god only knew what kind of things jeno might say if left unchecked. you quickly threw on a pair of high-waisted jeans and a knitted sweater, keeping it simple with just a swipe of lip gloss and a touch of mascara.

when you came downstairs, you found them sitting at opposite ends of the couch. jeno was scrolling through his phone, legs spread out, a bored look on his face. your boyfriend was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, glancing around as if searching for a conversation topic that didn’t involve glaring across the room.

“i’m ready,” you announced, trying to break the awkward tension hanging in the air. both boys looked up.

you noticed Jeno had changed into fitted jeans and a black t-shirt.

“i hope you don’t mind,” your boyfriend said, his smile too stiff to be genuine, “but i invited jeno to come with us.”

“what?” your head snapped to jeno, who didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

“yeah,” jeno said, casually running a hand through his hair. “a few of my friends are heading there too, so i figured we could all hang out.”

“oh… how nice,” you muttered through clenched teeth. jeno just smirked, waiting for you to snap in front of your boyfriend but you held back, drawing in a calming breath and turning toward the door instead.

outside, your boyfriend wiped a tiny smudge off the driver’s side door of his car with meticulous care. jeno scoffed audibly.

your boyfriend paused, glancing over his shoulder. “jeno, do you have a car... or do you wanna ride with us?”

“my car’s in the shop,” Jeno replied without missing a beat.

“oh yeah? what do you drive?”

“a ’69 mustang fastback,” jeno said smoothly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

your boyfriend’s lips parted slightly. you knew he was impressed—he loved cars—and even if he tried to play it cool, the way his eyes widened gave him away. “that’s a classic. was it your dad’s?”

“nope.” jeno grinned. “saved up since high school and bought it myself at the barrett-jackson auction last year.”

your boyfriend’s eyebrows shot up. “that’s... actually really impressive.”

yeah, jeno thought, satisfaction bubbling in his chest. he lived for moments like this, when people looked at him like he was something special. he just couldn’t let it slip that his dad had footed most of the bill for the car’s custom work. it wasn’t like he asked for that help, but there was no way he was turning it down either. and he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit that in front of your boyfriend. not when the guy was looking at him with something close to respect. honestly, jeno kind of liked having that edge over him.

you could practically see the mental competition unfolding in front of you. jeno stood there like he’d just scored a point, while your boyfriend’s jaw tightened, clearly thinking of how to reclaim the upper hand.

“are you guys done with the dick-measuring contest, or should i grab a ruler?” you asked, arms crossed.

jeno laughed under his breath. your boyfriend glanced away, muttering, “yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

the ride was somehow worse than you expected. normally, when you’d ride with your boyfriend, the car was filled with pleasant conversation. he’d ask about your day and tell you about his… but now, with jeno in the backseat, the air felt suffocating. not even the faint music playing on the radio could ease your discomfort.

“were you sleeping before i came?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you tensed. sleeping? far from it. you’d most definitely come before he arrived, and now your face burned with the memory. you shot a quick look over your shoulder at jeno, hoping to gauge if he was going to say something incriminating. he was scrolling through his phone, but the corner of his mouth curled up in that stupid smirk of his.

“uh… no,” you said, clearing your throat. “i couldn’t sleep very well last night, so i just had an early breakfast.”

“ah,” your boyfriend hummed. “and your parents are back sunday, right?”

“yeah,” you replied, grateful for the change in subject.

the silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. your boyfriend tapped the steering wheel rhythmically, occasionally glancing at you like he was expecting conversation but you were too busy trying not to spontaneously combust from how tense everything felt.

he reached over and turned on the car’s bluetooth. “let’s put on some music,” he muttered, scrolling through his playlist. he settled on a song, and you relaxed until you recognized the beat a split second before the lyrics started.

"thoughts of you keep me up at night..."

heat immediately started creeping up your neck. of all the songs... and of all the lyrics to play right now.

"i think about all of the ways you turn me on... and my bed gets lonely whenever you’re gone..."

you stiffened, eyes wide as you stared out the window. you could feel jeno’s gaze burning into the side of your face, and when you dared to glance back, you saw his eyes fixed on you, an eyebrow raised like this was the funniest thing to ever happen. your boyfriend, oblivious to the lyrical implications, simply tapped along to the beat.

you reached for the phone. “let’s put something else—”

“what? you don’t like this song?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you with a smile.

“it’s… just—” you floundered. jeno chuckled under his breath.

“leave it,” Jeno said. “I think it’s pretty relatable.”

your boyfriend shot him a look through the rearview mirror probably wondering what he meant.

you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the ground to swallow you whole. why did the drive feel like it was taking forever?

when you arrived at the amusement park, you were pleasantly surprised to see jenny and natty waiting near the entrance, drinks already in hand.

“we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing, by the way” jenny grinned, looping her arm through yours when you reached her.

“yeah,” Natty added, slipping in on your other side. “we told him he was an idiot for not doing something nice for you on saturday, so this is his redemption, and we’re here as the judges.”

the revelation should’ve surprised you—maybe even disappointed you—but it didn’t. things with your boyfriend had been...off lately. neither of you was really trying, and you couldn’t blame him for that when you weren’t putting in much effort yourself.

still, you plastered on a smile. this is supposed to be fun, you reminded yourself. and it was, you went on nearly every ride. your boyfriend, though, wasn’t a big fan of fast rides due to his motion sickness, and you didn’t miss the way jeno scoffed every time he turned down your suggestions to ride together.

you were heading toward the food stalls when something caught your eye. “ooh! let’s do that one!” you pointed to a shabby building draped in fake cobwebs and flickering lights. a crooked sign above the entrance read bloody encounter in dripping red letters.

jenny made a face. “why would you willingly do that to yourself?”

“come on,” you urged, tugging her arm. “it’ll be fun! i saw a video of it on instagram! it looks insane.”

“that’s exactly why i don’t want to go,” jenny shot back, glancing warily at the entrance.

natty, wide-eyed, whispered, “have you seen that movie where a group of friends goes into a haunted house, and there’s an actual killer inside?”

“that’s literally a movie,” you said, but your attempt at sounding confident fell flat when natty added, “it was based on real-life events.”

you rolled your eyes but glanced over your shoulder at your boyfriend trailing behind. he looked at the ride and grimaced.

“eh... i don’t know, babe,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “you know i hate this kind of stuff.”

you visibly deflated and before you could respond, another voice cut in. “i’ll go with you,” jeno said, stepping forward, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“I—” you started to object, nerves twisting in your stomach. jeno? alone? no way. that felt like walking into a trap. “weren’t you going to meet up with your friends?” you tried, hoping to backpedal.

“they texted that they got a flat on the way here, so it’ll be a while before they arrive” he shrugged.

“you two have fun,” jenny said, already pulling natty away. “we’ll grab food in the meantime.” natty threw you a look that screamed good luck before disappearing into the crowd.

your boyfriend lingered. “you sure you’re gonna be okay?” he asked, eyes darting to jeno, whose expression remained unreadable except for the subtle roll of his eyes.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine. see you in a bit.”

stepping through the entrance, you were swallowed by darkness. the air was thick with the artificial scent of fog machines and that weird plasticky smell of cheap props. distorted laughter and screams echoed through the narrow halls, looping over speakers that crackled with static.

beside you, jeno looked about as thrilled as someone waiting in line at the dmv. he glanced around, gaze skimming lazily over the walls. "spooky," he deadpanned.

"wow, you're really committing to the whole fun-hater thing," you shot back, glancing over your shoulder. you knew something was about to jump out, it was just a matter of when. "if you hate this so much, why'd you come?"

“figured your dumbass boyfriend wouldn’t,” he shrugged, mouth quirking into something between a smirk and a sneer. "someone had to make sure you didn’t cry."

“excuse me—”

BANG!

a hidden panel to your left slammed open and a clown with cracked white paint on its face and red bulging eyes lunged out, blaring a horn right in your face. your soul practically left your body as you screamed and instinctively grabbed onto the nearest thing which, unfortunately, was jeno.

he didn’t even flinch, his arm simply went around your shoulders, comforting you even as your heart tried to beat out of your chest. you looked up, breath catching when you met his gaze. his eyes flicked down to where you were clutching his hoodie before lifting back to yours.

you pushed away, but his hand didn’t fall away immediately. it trailed from your shoulder down to the small of your back, you felt his warmth seep through the fabric of your sweater.

"so," he drawled, "should i hold your hand for the rest of this?"

“i swear to god…”

“—because i don’t mind”

“keep talking and i’ll feed you to the next clown,” you shot back.

he snorted. "like you’d make it through this without me."

you flipped him off without looking back, which earned a low chuckle in response. you stalked ahead, determined to focus on not tripping over the uneven floor, but his footsteps stayed close behind. annoyingly close.

the mirror maze was where things went downhill. everywhere you turned, warped reflections of you and jeno stretched and twisted in the glass. dark shapes flickered just out of sight, and the speakers just made everything worse by echoing whispers that felt like they were breathing down your neck.

your reflection twisted, making your head look three times too big. jeno snorted. “look, they got your good side.”

“bite me” you said, peering around a corner. your reflection multiplied into a dozen versions of you, all looking equally pissed.

“tempting,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

jeno’s fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you in the opposite direction.

“it’s this way,” he said.

“how would you know?”

“we’ve been stuck in here for like ten minutes,” he cut in. “you’re clearly not the best guide.”

you bit your tongue, resisting the urge to snap back.

jeno pointed at a door partially concealed by a tangle of fake cobwebs. “that’s gotta be the exit.”

“that looks deliberately hidden,” you said, eyeing it warily. something about it seemed off.

“well,” he shrugged, “either we try that or we keep wandering in circles. your call.”

fine. you followed him, trusting—against better judgment—that his instincts were better than yours.

they weren’t.

the door creaked open to reveal a forgotten section of the attraction with dust-covered boxes, broken props tossed in corners, and walls lined with peeling fake blood. the air smelled like damp cardboard and stale fog machine fluid.

“...okay,” he said, unfazed. “so not the exit.”

“wow. color me shocked.”

he shot you a look. “didn’t hear you coming up with better options.”

you rolled your eyes and turned back to the door. “whatever, let’s just—”

it didn’t budge. frowning, you tried again, putting more weight into it. nothing.

your pulse quickened. “uh... jeno?”

“what?”

“the door’s stuck.”

“just turn the handle—”

“i am!” frustration and panic crept into your voice. “i know how to open a damn door!”

“move.” he gently nudged you aside, grabbing the handle. he twisted while shoving his shoulder into it but the door held firm “...shit.”

your stomach dropped. this wasn’t funny anymore. “no, no, no… this can’t be happening.” you raked a hand through your hair.