the furtive glances of the others present made you feel nervous, or so you want to believe when you feel your partner's warm, soft hands sit longer on your waist once the music ceases, and you tremble under his touch.

his chest pressed against your back, and you feel it rise and fall quickly and erratically as he catches his breath; a hint of a grin when he slips his fingers away and your breath comes out ragged, trying to suffocate it when you see the headmaster putting a hand to his head.

“quelle putain de merde. you better not look like this at the evening ceremony,” he says. “YOU HEARD ME!!?” the horrific scream made you decompose for a moment, to recover and manage to say in unison with the boy: “yes, sir”.

(quelle putain de merde: what a damn crap.)*

when your ears stopped ringing, you managed to notice muffled laughter under collective breaths. and kai, the dance instructor seemed to hear them too; one look at them silenced them all. however, their looks… you scanned the room nervously. a dozen faces that seemed to drop blades. at you.

“jealousy,” an answer to your question; his breath hitting your ear making your heart skip a beat.

haechan looks down on you but you quickly look away, dizzy. eyes wanting to keep busy to avoid looking at that beauty mark near his mouth. wandering around the room, seeing it now clear as water. jealousy. in their graceful carved features.

the ballet academy was a place of contrasts. on the one hand, there were smiles and applause, praise and recognition, the beauty and grace of the dance. on the other hand, there were sharp teeth and hidden claws, ready to rip you to pieces. accidents, fractures, betrayals. everyone kills for a star, and now your back has a cross.

it was a new season for the equinox and the academy had to present the stellar of the swan lake. the atmosphere was charged with expectations and high hopes.

you were the new one, and everyone knows what happens to intruders. however, your thoughts were scattered in two maybes, was it because you were given the starring role just arriving at the academy, or was it because you were given the starring role with him?

because without a doubt, lee haechan is handsome. alluring. his body is athletic and long. gracious. his dance sophisticated. his face could have been carved by the angels themselves, and there could be no doubt that it was true. with a lethal smile and lips that resembled silk. pink, as if constantly bitten. perhaps for him, perhaps for lovers. and his attitude, he's alluring. a construction that reflects his appeal. he charmed with a sharp wit and relaxed mannerisms.

you're sure that casual encounters and no strings attached are strong pillars in the reason why everyone drools over him; they want to be the first to receive his first love. he's a paradox, a mystery, a wonder. and he knows it.

“you better watch your back, angel,” he says with his eyes fixed behind you, before he leaves with a subtle bow. his absence makes everyone leave, and you can't help but think that most people go after him.

when the room is clear, kai's expression changes. all his fury comes at you in flames as you gather your things to go home, “i was told excellent things about you” he speaks, finding something you ignore funny, “and all i see is mediocrity,” his eyes sweep over you with a mixture of disdain and derision.

his gaze is so dense and heavy, loaded with something foreign to you, that you must look away, but he's got other plans.

kai sighs, and his rough hand reaches for your face. your eyes reflexively close expecting to feel the burning of his palm against your cheek but he only ends up arranging a strand of your hair behind your ear, and the gesture couldn't seem more vile than his words. “i don't know what cock you sucked to get the role, but there won't be enough left for you to keep it if you don't fix this by the next rehearsal.” his eyes are stained with something else when he tries to show sweetness, “will you do that for me, precious?”

something twitches and buzzes in your chest and it's not until you see him leave that you realize you've been holding your breath and all your muscles groan as you relax. trembling hands grabbing your things quickly to head to the shelter of your apartment, mind scheming to devise your improving methods.

you take off your ballet shoes with a grimace; you've barely had time to adjust them the way you like them, but that's not why you feel something pricking your foot.

you drown out a garbled sound when you see sparkles on the sole.

a noise takes your breath away, perplexed, something creeps down your spine as your eyes shoot up to the shadows.

you've checked the room. “who's there?”

your eyes adjust to the silhouette that emerges from the shadows, maybe he didn't leave completely, maybe he's been staring at you in the shadows. and you feel no less terrorized, especially when he smiles lethally.

“d'you need help with that?” he asks when he sees you struggling with your shoes.

“it's okay, i forgot to...-” your words crowd on the tip of your tongue and yet you can't get them out. haechan kneels in front of you, and your finger catches one of the small shards of glass.

he takes your hands between his under your dazed expression, bringing it to his lips where he gently sucks on your finger, then leaves a kiss on the tip and another on the back of your hand. “shouldn't you be more careful?” he inquires then, taking your shoes from your grip, proceeding to smack them onto the floor.

his bemused gaze lands on you when you muffled a gasp, a smile dazzes on his mouth. “sorry, did i scare you?”

“no.” you breathe.

“d'you always look like a frightened lamb or is it just me?” he asks then, scanning your face. you try to keep your expression serene, even though you're about to have a crisis. “did something happen?”

kai's words are still running through your head. “i'm fine,” you lie. “i'm just tired.”

he hums, paying attention to the shoe ‘til he frowns. “you shouldn't leave your shoes lying around, it's dangerous, angel.”

you bristle, is he referring to you maybe because he doesn't know your name? “my name is…”

“i know your name.” he cuts you off, and your thoughts scattered all over the place.

“i think maybe i'd left them, i didn't believe they were going to put something inside.”

“why wouldn't they? you stole kai's attention.”

“did i?” you say, funny. it seemed quite the opposite.

yet haechan doesn't catch it. “hmm...”

you watch him smile slowly. “let's get home.” he holds out your ballet shoes and you feel them in your touch; in a short time he's left them almost impeccable.

when you walk into the bathroom, any trace of him having affected you disappears when you see the murderous glances through the mirror. the silence is tense, and it's broken by kazuha when she laughs with namjoo behind your back once you turn on the faucet and splash the cold water to clear your mind.

haechan has managed to make you more nervous than kai. you feel dizzy, but it feels... pleasant.

you've never been one to attract attention, but looking at the big picture, you'll have to get used to having it very often; you want to continue to have his, especially.

your attention is kept on guard, and your instinct tenses your muscles. you come to the conclusion way later than you should once they encircle you that you shouldn't have turned your back on them.

you don't see where the first punch came from. your head stings and you squeal, hitting something strong, a wall, maybe. a white noise dams your hearing, too stunned to see the next assault of punches.

black haze adorns your vision as a blazing fire bends you in half, breathless when one of them hits hard in your stomach. you feel the world spinning, perhaps it is you when you fall and almost hit your chin on the cold tiled floor.

“who do you think you are, huh? coming in and hoarding everything? new features, new face of the season. i've waited all my life to get the spotlight on swan lake, and you just show up looking stupid and they give you the part? with him?”

you can't believe they're mentioning him. the concept seems bizarre to you and panic leaves your mind blank, you are unable to coordinate to ask for help. you feel dizzy, and nauseous. you have no choice but to close your eyes and receive two kicks that you barely manage to cushion with your forearms on your stomach. “well, look at you. i think i know why they gave it to you, you're such a martyr, beaten to death.” they don't go for the face; they're not that idiotic. instead, they point to places that are easy to cover with tights, back, stomach, head. they'd go after your legs and ankles if you weren't curled up to protect them.

injuries are a death sentence.

when your whole body screams, suddenly everything goes quiet. your body cools against the tiles, until you find warmth in it. your body hurts, everywhere, and you're not so far away from a deadly kiss because your breathing has become shallow and slow.

you crack on the floor, picturing your mother laughing at this moment, your determination to fit in the concrete jungle. you've never been good at fitting in, you are easily blinded, manipulated and influenced.

you crawl as best you can, even if every step is an ordeal. the taste of iron in your mouth as you press your lips together in a last-ditch effort to stand up. no one has seen you, no one has heard you. you manage to walk slowly but surely, even though your belly aches and it burns, though tears threaten your eyes as you pass them in the hallway, feigning innocence as they surround haechan.

he smiles at you as if reading your agony, he rejoices like a spectator watching the sad dying gazelle before it is devoured. you still feel his gaze fixed on you as you make your way to the door and into the blackness of the night, crumbling once you reach the dark.

“hey, mom. just checking in. uh… it's been good, everyone is so nice, and i've been cast as the swan queen for this new season, and…” you can't continue. every step you take feels like daggers sticking in your stomach. walking feels like the worst torture, but the bus stop isn't that far away and...

“need a ride?”

your ears keep buzzing and ringing, the soft rumble of his bike passing unnoticed by you, and you realize that he has been driving slowly for a while when you haven't stopped right away. you think you might have a concussion.

your head doesn't spin a single coherent thought as you watch his eyebrows arch and his dazzling eyes under a black helmet. you move as slowly as your thoughts flow. you've become so light-headed, that maybe, maybe he's smiling at your puzzling. “is it s-safe?” you manage to pronounce, after a while where your eyes wander over the black body.

your eyes shoot out at him when he removes the helmet, and consequently you stifle a sigh. he combs his brown hair, as he rests the object on his knee, a mischievous grin streaks across his angular face.

he hums, “are you scared?”

the bus stop is a couple of blocks away, and it would be quite a process to get home without passing out in pain on the way. but you know that's not the reason you're lowkey giving in; you know the way he looks at you has something to do with it.

“first time?” he wonders.

“is it so obvious?” a hint of pain keeps you from laughing any longer. when you smile, your face hurts like hell, and you realize that it's hard for you to make any expression without feeling like it's breaking in two. your lip pricks, perhaps because it has managed to catch one of their kicks. but you can't help biting it as a habit and then regretting it right after.

haechan does not miss any detail of you. “i've never been on one. but... i'd like to.”

he grins like the devil. “get on.” his hand extends the black helmet towards you, your feet moving closer to him by inertia. it's pretty, black, and shiny. a white stripe that runs across the entire circumference and ends in two wings on the back.

“i like your helmet.” haechan gets closer to you and smiles at seeing you so affected when he helps you put it on. “safe and sound.”

you are surprised at how easy it is for him to read you. the thing is, you don't know if it's because you are very expressive or if he has been looking at you lately to know your mannerisms. “only one helmet, you're the lucky one tonight.”

he must know that his smile has an effect on people, he must know that it has an effect on you. and it is overwhelming.

his hands assisting you when you climb on the back, mind starting to work again when it grips you not finding a way to hold onto once he starts to drive. haechan is totally oblivious to you slicing your brain in an obvious struggle as he waits for you, but you don't have a clue, and it's pathetic, “where should i... where do i hold on?”

you see his profile paying attention to you, humming fleetingly, “on to me,” he simply answers, voice sounding mocking but soft. your cheeks burn from feeling so stupid, until you find yourself in another dilemma again.

even you know how pathetic it would look to hold on to his shoulders, does he really expect you to hold on to his waist? would you dare? your hands glide cautiously, cold fingers meeting in the front of his stomach over his jacket, yet you still feel his warmth poking through you.

he laughs. “i won't be able to move if you hold on like that,” he says.

“oh, sorry...”

“here.” his hands are holding yours for the umpteenth time that night, and you're not sure you want him to let go.

as he guides your hands under his jacket, the movement causes you to press yourself against his back, and you almost squeal in pain if it weren't for your brain collapsing when you feel him making you interlace your fingers, brushing his thumb on the reverse of your palm. “ready?”

you watch him start the bike, and your whole body tenses up and you gasp against his jacket. before you go out like a shooting star breaking through the night, you're sure you feel his body light up because of it.

୨♡୧

your body feels charged with lead when you arrive at your residential complex. the cold has frozen your bones and the sedative effect on your aching muscles almost feels pleasurable. just remembering you just minutes ago on the cold tile floor makes you tremble under haechan's gaze.

he strips your breath away. lights bathe his sun-kissed skin and his hair turns dark as night falls, uncovering his eyes like pits of black matter. your eyes follow the motion of his fingers combing his messy disheveled locs, eyelashes fluttering so delicately, ignorant of your captivated eyes staring at every portion of his tanned, chiseled face. his puffed, pink lips. the golden halo he casts.

“delighted?” he chimes.

he catches you staring at him. a lazy smile blooms on his lips as his eyes soften. “the ride?” he adds, gazing at your lips part open because for a moment you thought he was referring to you encapsulated in a reverie looking at his profile.

“yes.” you reply to both. you hear yourself nodding, “... thanks for the ride,” you hop off the bike, agitated. the charge of energy that the lights and the breeze have given you, buzzing through your bloodstream. “it was fun.”

“glad you liked it.” he takes the helmet you offer him, scanning every move you make with curious, narrowed eyes. your eyes escape his to fix your wild hair and hide more your face. he, of course, sees that too. “have a good night...”

“you're not gonna invite me in?” he utters, turning off the bike and getting off it without waiting for a response.

“in-inside?”

“unless you want to stay here, but it's getting cold, isn't it?” he questions with an arched eyebrow, passing by and going towards the entrance. it takes you a couple of seconds to get your sleeping muscles going after him.

haechan crosses his arms and a thin line adorns his smile as you work on the deadbolt in your apartment. the first thing he does upon entering is leave his helmet on the kitchen aisle and take a look around.

the dim lights of the city outside the window reveal only a red couch in front of an old tv, a coffee table overflowing with chinese food containers, papers and magazines, and clothes thrown away and forgotten everywhere.

“sorry for the mess,” you speak, grabbing hurriedly the tiny piece of clothing he's taken from one of the kitchen chairs to study. a grin wells up on his mouth when he sees you in dismay, “my roommate, she's... out of control.”

“d'you have a roommate?” he inquires, following you to the bathroom. he stops at the door frame to watch you throw the underwear to the laundry basket. his gaze is lost in some part of your figure for a long time that you're afraid a bruise is showing. “yes, she's... out tonight.” your eyes register when he weighs your answer, eyes shining.

“is she a dancer?”

you try to gather words that can be used as adjectives for her, but you only come up with two: paranoid and psychotic.

“she's sort of... a free spirit. i don't know what she does, really. it's a mystery.” she is the mystery. fatal. dangerous. but in some way, she's alluring. “shall i offer you something to drink?”

“wine,” he replies.

your eyes sparkle in amusement, “won't it be dangerous once you drive on your way home?”

he hums, “i was hoping not.”

his smile is enlarged by something you don't know.

you leave him in the living room to make a glass of water. the fridge is almost empty except for leftovers from the night before and a couple of beers. you haven't made groceries in a while, totally consumed by the academy and the piece that you and haechan have to present in a few nights.

you're startled when you see his figure silhouetted by the lights outside lurking in the darkness. “you scared me.”

your heart is pounding wildly in your ribcage when you watch his slim body and relaxed mannerisms approach you and take the glass tightly grabbed in your hands, “my bad, angel.”

you follow him when he gets back into the living room. his long, graceful legs under a pair of dark jeans spill out onto your couch, almost hitting the coffee table so hard for you to reach when you sit down.

his body takes up all the space, letting you grab the single couch next to him. “tell me a secret,” he says, catching you off guard.

“a secret…?” you puzzle. “what kind of…”

“a dark one,” he replies, “and i'll tell you one.”

what does he want to hear? you don't think you have many dark secrets besides your dubious desires. should you tell him where they've done to you or your intrusive pulse wanting to kiss his mouth.

“you're handsome.”

he chuckles.

“i asked for a secret, not a confession.”

your cheeks light up. “it's the same to me.”

he stays quiet, and you're afraid you've bored him. “you're one of a kind...”

“i'm not from around here,” you quietly say.

“i know that.”

silence settles. haechan thinks. and you talk. “maybe that's why i'm not what kai wants me to be.”

“he's an asshole,” haechan chimes.

your fingers squeeze so tightly that it hurts. “i'm just... worried about the piece. what if... what if i mess it up?” the unexpected movement that he makes to get closer to you takes you by surprise. you see him rejoice, getting up from the sofa. “don't let him get into your head, angel.” you take that as a sign he's leaving, standing up from the couch with him as a reflex act.

you puzzle, “why do you call me that?”

he's towering over you, the fragrance of his cologne coming to you with the cold air slipping through the open window, “you're virtuous and moral. nothing like the rest.” he places the empty glass on the table and his eyes return to you. a deep gaze full of palpable and unknown emotions at the same time. “and you're pretty as one.”

you leave him roam the entire space as if he wants to memorize it before sighing heavily while something twists inside you with the flashing thought that you have bored him.

“i am not virtuous.” you follow him to the door before he stops at the kitchen counter. features showing what he's thinking. does it bother him that you are? does he wants you to be like the girls he surely likes?

“the reason kai is like this with you is because he wants you to give him a blowjob,” he says so suddenly and unfiltered that you choke on your own saliva. “i bet you wouldn't have thought that with all the signs.”

he sees you mortified, a blaze of heat rising up your neck, “he doesn't... h-he...”

“he wouldn't? yeah, right.” he scoffs. “the thing here is if you want to.”

something in your chest tightens. “n-no. no.” you see him downplay it. “why would you tell me this?”

“that's my secret. since you're worried about the piece and kai. i thought i'd fix both.” he shrugs. his thumb grabs your chin in a playful goodbye gesture. “and because we're partners, take it as a favor,” he says the last as he approaches you, chest almost brushing your forehead to take the helmet resting on the isle.

he's left you so groggy your mind flickers when he's advancing towards the elevator. “favor? will i have to return it back to you?”

“not right now, but yes.” he smiles boyishly, before magically disappearing.

୨♡୧

the dawn breaks in the silhouettes of the city when you stop. heart pumping behind your ears, disbursed.

it's been a couple of weeks where kai has been pushing you over the precipice. juggling between the murderous stares and haechan's company.

you are short of breath, and all your muscles scream for rest, but you force yourself to inhale and exhale a couple of times and continue, until your stay in the empty dance hall with the first rays of sunshine that you have ignored while practicing the piece over and over.

kai's words were enough to keep you awake at night. you can't find rest. despite the ache in your body, a rush of determination urged you to join the pulse of the city that never sleeps. buzzing with the obsessive compulsion to show what you're made of: the same matter as the stars.

your heavy breath and vision blur your senses, and you manage to miss haechan's presence, looking at you through the mirror. his features tinged with both bewilderment and wonder; something else burns in his pupils, prompting you to look away before you combust.

he doesn't say anything for a few long minutes where he watches you bring your body to the brink of collapse. it's been a terrible couple of weeks; you've been avoiding the bathroom at all costs, but their determination is harder to dodge as spring approaches, and right away they're waiting for you everywhere.

you check your shoes more than necessary, you pay attention to your surroundings very often. you're alert at all times and it's driving you crazy.

you stumble a step when don't stop haechan behind you, and almost fall to the ground. you quickly shy away from his touch when he intervenes and keep you from falling on your ankle, trying to pull yourself together.

“thanks... what- what are you doing here?” you're used to his hands running over your body when you're immersed in dancing, and for him to take you like this suddenly feels strangely alluring to you. it clutters your senses.

you're sure he wasn't supposed to show up until a little later, but now he's here, and staring at you with amusement. “i'd ask the same thing.”

if he's fallen into your pathetic question like a smokescreen to distract him so that he forgets that you've practically run away from his grip, it seems convincing.

“i knew i'd find you here, if you weren't home.”

“did you come to my house?”

“it's just passing by.”

you comb your hair, catching your breath with the knowledge that he can see you're flustered. your hands massage your tense shoulders. your whole body is in the same state.

haechan walks over and places his warm hand on yours. “sore?”

“a little.” he grins fleetingly.

“allow me.”

he helps you stretch. his graceful, bony fingers exert the pressure needed to make you close your eyes in relief, and when you open them, you discover him looking at you an arched eyebrow and smug grin; he's come so close that his breath gently bathes your forehead when you look down. and it feels too much, not because he touches you suggestively, but because you're afraid he might feel your heart about to jump out of your ribcage when he massages your shoulders until they hurt less. “what were you doing?” he asks softly, gaze searching for yours.

“i was perfecting a few steps…”

“show me.”

your eyes meet his, and he's curling his lips on one side, “i'll let you know,” he proposes, giving you space.

you hesitate. doubts furrowing through your thoughts that you push aside once he dances his eyebrows in a playful gesture. a pleased curve lifting the corners of his mouth as he mimics you when you nod.

you redo the piece and haechan concentrates, eyes scrutinizing you. in the middle of the piece he joins you and you fear you won't be able to continue when he holds you by the thigh; suddenly, being alone with him feels so much worse than when there are people, because then you think about every friction and touch, until you can't take it anymore.

by the end of the first cut you're airtight and a little agitated, looking for approval on his enthralled face. “so?”

he hums, “looks beautiful,” he declares with a smile.

“the steps?...i highly doubt it—”

“you.” he cuts you off. even though he smiles afterward, you want to believe that his constant flirting goes beyond just teasing when you blush.

you begin to believe that the dense weight on your chest is due to the energy transmitted by his gaze.

haechan touching his lips with his fingers, and his lack of response leaves you unsure. “should i be more... sensual?” you don't think you can go further; you've been dancing since midnight.

“sensual?” he articulates, thoughtful.

“kai always says...” you stop when his eyes stop looking at a part of your body and move into your eyes.

“d'you want to be sensual for kai?”

you get stiff, “i-i do not.” you huff, and he sneers. “i'm not keeping up with the black swan. be honest with me.” you ask when he makes a gesture to speak.

“you look dainty.”

“it's not the same as sensual...-”

“it's not that you're not sensual, you should be more chaotic.”

you frown. “the black swan should drive the prince crazy with love, so she can poison his judgment,” he pronounces as he walks towards you. his expression remains serene, almost derivative, and irresistible to look away. “you need to seduce me.”

he stops and fix one of your straps. you follow the sensation of his touch, cupping your right cheek as his thumb stroke you gently. your eyes flutter open and your heart beats fast. haechan gaze at you, and it feels so overwhelming and magnetic that you can't stop looking at his brown orbs, trapped in a spell.

he smiles, “see? am i seducing you now?” he says softly. “seduce me, angel.”

“i can't... i can't do that.” your mind feels fuzzy when his eyes sweep your lips.

“why?”

“i wouldn't know how.”

“have you ever touched yourself?” he prompts, wild eyes widening when you skip a beat. “no?” his fingers grab your chin and force you to look at him, with no escape from his gaze spilling on you as his figure towers yours.

“i just —i've never felt the need...”

“you're really a little angel, huh?”

your face lights up, your eyes flicker from the intensity of his eyes, but you can't stop looking at him, it's impossible for your gaze not to burn when you're looking directly at the sun.

your breath freezes when you feel him playing with the strap of your shirt. a whiplash tingles your skin and awakens your senses when he lets go of the fabric. haechan bites his lip as he sees yours half-open in surprise and shame. “try it tonight.” the spell you're trapped in, lost in his soft touches, and alluring scent is broken when the room begins to fill up.

you bite your lip before you pronounce, “h-how?” your neck looks like it's about to burn and your chest flaps to explode when you see him smile mischievously.

you're so certain, in that moment, that you'd do anything he'd ask if only to be rewarded with that gentle smile lighting up his eyes akin to stars hidden in the dark expanse of the ether.

“you'll know how.” eyes taking on a jovial emotion. “just think of me while you're at it.”

୨♡୧

haechan's pov.

haechan is fucked. he knows it. it is in his nature to want and satisfy the hunger that moved him. unimaginable things in the name of desire. in his wake, sighs, and broken hearts follow him.

he's nothing but obsessive.

the thing is, haechan couldn't find a way to stop hanging around you. an invisible energy attracted him like magnetism, and he always ended up within a few centimeters of your body. he couldn't put into words when he wanted to sink his teeth into you, mark you while he makes you his own. he knew it could be felt buzzing through his pores. and you were so naïve to notice that every time you touched, the bulge in his pants hurt, restrained.

of course he would leave his hands on your back longer, making you grind against him. he was a complete sadistic pervert, getting excited every time you trembled. shit, he lusts after you. it's almost impossible for him to think clearly, driven by desire pulling him towards you.

walking at night as if it's the one who should be afraid of you. looking so fragile, why do you always look like someone beat you to death? so ethereally and mortally pretty. shying away every time he makes a move.

he takes you to your apartment with one thing in mind: to see that pretty face twist with pleasure when he penetrates you hard. but everything takes a drastic change when your eyes sparkle in amusement, before he hears your soft voice “won't it be dangerous on your way home?”

he gribs. he wants to eat that smile. and he craves, equally, for you to eat his, to see your lips in other places of his body. he buzzes, “i was hoping not.”

gosh, you're a bane for sure.

it is pleasurable and at the same time painful to see you so ignorant and oblivious to him. he wants to roll his eyes and sigh in exasperation as you dodge every single signal his eyes send. should he be explicit? would you like that?

he leaves your place with an erection hurting from being released. his irritation almost fades when he hears you sigh under your breath when he picks up his helmet and you find yourself on his way, your vanilla scent cluttering his senses.

he almost feels sorry for the men who have run into you, seeing the panorama that awaits them. surely you dissemble and act it out most of the time. haechan can't believe you're so naïve and pathetic. kai's intentions can be seen from the tallest skyscraper in the city and is obviously everyone's knowledge; girls don't shine if he doesn't give them the spotlight.

“since you're worried about the piece and kai. i thought i'd fix both.” he shrugs, wanting to affect you. his thumb grabs your chin in a condescending way. “and because we're partners, take it as a favor.”

favors? he can think of several, yes. with you helping him with some of his distress.

“will i have to return it back to you?”

“not right now, but yes.”

he fucks someone that night until he aches. a girl who bumped into him in a bar, academia, or on the way to the elevator. sex comes easy for him. and they usually come for more, but haechan gets bored quickly. he's bond to lust life, but he dispatches everyone right away when they become attached.

he scoffs, you wouldn't last long in his head if you could without going insane. the reason he gives you so much thought is because he needs to find a way to get you to agree to him taking you to bed, it shouldn't be that hard when you're already drooling over him. in his mind, everything is twisted and wicked. you don't know what he's hiding every time he smiles at you; he has imagined you many times naked and spread for him in his bed. he's not fond of exhibitionism but he'd fuck you in front of people if you're into that.

his eyes have been memorizing your figure when you don't realize it. the curve of your breasts, your butt, your waist and legs, the shape of your lips. fuck. he can't believe he's thinking about your pretty face contorted with pleasure as he penetrates you hard.

he cums just from thinking of you saying his name. the girl begins to dress up and haechan omits to look at her as he obnoxiously leaves the room and walks down the empty hallway of the academy. stopping when he hears music from the empty classroom.

of course you ignore his presence. it's your quality to be everywhere but where you should. immersed in the dance until you stop for a drink of water and finally see him. your doe eyes opening, dumbfounded.

he can't hide the lascivious desire poured into his gaze, as he prompts you, “show me.”

he finds the setting quite alluring, and fury crackles down his neck as he imagines other men having the same thoughts he has when he sees you dancing like you're made of cotton. touching his lips when they feel sensitive due to the desire he has to rest them on your thighs.

of course he's going to say off-line comments if you keep falling for each one of them. you look pretty like a frightened deer when you get flustered. he likes to know it's because of him.

“kai always says...” that damn name. he feels a murderous calm covering his body. he doesn't want to, he refuses to let that scum even breathe near you.

you're his. no one else's. not even the men you've had before him; he plans to have you all to himself.

“seduce me, angel.”

“i wouldn't know how.”

look at you. not knowing how to seduce him. he wants to know if this façade works with everybody, or is it just with him. or perhaps, you do not know that you do it without realizing it. he's seen you and caught you looking at his muscles, and his lips and he's lost count, just as he has done with his.

all this would be annoying to him if he didn't like the idea of teaching you.

he wants the white swan to be corrupted.

and he'd like to do it himself. he dreams of you crying for him as he fucks you senseless. he can see your face in his mind becoming more and more tense and repressive as he whispers in your ear everything he plans to do to you, the positions he wants to put you in right now when you look at him so innocently. but he's afraid you'll run away in terror, so he's happy to imagine you, for now.

୨♡୧

were you really going to do it?

the night sounds die out under the murmur of the city and the pumping of your heart.

your fingers go down, under your underwear, and the mere gesture makes your breathing shallow. you barely register the murmur of your roommate's music in the next room, muffling your sighs as your digits find the valley of your intimacy.

the slight touch causes you to fists the sheet. feeling how wet you are, just from his words, still hovering over your head like in a spell. your fingers rubbed your clit, small gasps falling from your mouth, ecstatic. circling the bulge to the beat of your heart. eyes shut tight. an electric wave washing you over, and you moan.

your hand cover your mouth as you let yourself be carried away by the wave of pleasure that shakes you. the sweet motion making you bite your lips and muffle your grunts on your palm.

the fleeting image of haechan going down on you makes you catalytic and erratic. something stirs in your belly and you speed up the movement, a pit opens up in your stomach and sucks you deliciously. you want it to be his fingers. soft and thick, entering your femininity, holding you tight, spreading you for him.

desire is almost extinguished and it is little for the craving that plagues you, inserting two fingers that makes your eyes roll as you feel your intimacy burn. gasping for his name, while you squirm.

your hand slides out of your mouth as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching your gummy walls and imagining it's him who fucks you this good, after you made room for his cock in your glistening pussy, making squelching sounds every time you slide your digits back and forth. stargazing. buzzing.

incessant sighs and moans slips from your lips, totally lost in the pleasure of bothering to be silent. the murmur in the next room stops and you don't care, you've lost your mind. filling the quiet room with your desperate whines. you fantasize about your hand being replaced by haechan's, his fingers going in and out of your pussy, touching the exact point to touch the sky with your fingers. his mouth going down, biting, licking.

you can imagine him with his dark hair as night and his eyes like two stars that don't leave your eyes as he makes a path of kisses from your ribs to the valley of your pussy. you can fleetingly feel his kisses on your thighs and his fingers burying in them to spread you open and have a look at your digits thrusting you nice before he replaces them with his shaft.

each thrust his name spilling from your mouth, each flick of his tongue a moan filling the air. your legs spread open, imagined his fingers touching your sweet spot, over and over again. the devastating climax breaking free, your moves becoming more erratic, dancing with your walls clenching around them. a sweet burning remaining in your entrance.

a sedative effect covers your limbs while you see the ceiling of your room disappear and reveal the night sky, starless because they're all in his gaze. regaining your breath as you keep stocking your entrance, squirming from sensitivity. and eager for more.

eager for him.

୨♡୧

kai pinches one of your cheeks a little harder and delights in the uncomfortable grimace that creases your face before you pull yourself together almost instantly. “well, look at that. tu scintilles comme une étoile.” his eyes scan you from head to toe just as haechan breath hits your shoulder, moving closer. “enlighten us once more, golden couple.”

(you sparkle like a star)

keeping up is harder when your body buzzes every time you do it. loaded with energy that overflows through your pores. pure and raw desire. you're embarrassed by how much you long for him to touch you longer when the music stops abruptly.

“thanks for joining us, darling.” kai's voice comes from all sides until you recover from the overwhelming dizziness, watching the girl walk in unapologetically.

“sorry. i slept in.”

you're aware when kai tries to keep the annoyance at bay. he usually doesn't exploit his dark side in first presentations. “you're dismissed for today! see you at the evening. wongyoung, warm up. the rest, take up from above.” the young man gives instructions left and right, that it's hard for you to follow the thread if it weren't for haechan pushing you towards the exit.

you follow him, his broad, sculpted back swaying to the sound of his footsteps. he's enigmatic, everything he does is appealing to you, magnetic. you find yourself almost enraptured by so little, it's very pathetic and at the same time difficult not to be.

“you're cute,” he declares all of a sudden.

his view detaches from the group of ballerinas dancing in a hall.

“why?” you can't find the reason behind it, you can't really fully understand the image he has of you in his head. “i know i'm not very talkative... and i'm a little self-conscious...”

“and you stutter when you talk.... especially when you get nervous... which happens very often.”

“i-i,” you shut up and his eyes glint like elusive fireflies. “have you never been nervous?” you ask, rhetoric.

he denies, “not many things make me nervous, no,” he confesses, “perhaps very, very pretty girls.” he admires when you blush. “although that's not the reason,” he says, watching the night lights outside the academy. “you haven't looked me in the eye all night. maybe it's because you think you'd reveal something in them if you do. something you've done and think you shouldn't have. do you feel guilty, little angel?”

his statement only leaves you dizzy and speechless. the air becomes dense and difficult to suck in. your mouth opens in a last-ditch attempt to fill your lungs, dumbfounded. “is it because you did what i asked you to do?”

faced with the little oxygen that rises to your brain, you nod without thinking. haechan smiles openly, a chaotic emotion in his grin. “and you haven't looked at me because you're consumed by the shame of thinking about me while you were doing it.” he states, more affirmation than a question. something you don't bother to deny because you're so busy, on the verge of a breakdown.

he likes to know that you've touched yourself thinking about him and you wonder how far his perverse pulse can go.

“did you like it?” if you happen to panic, haechan ignores it with honor, approaching you to arrange a strand of hair. “thinking of me, touching you? would you like that, angel? d'you want me to?”

your eyes close when the emotions are too strong for you. his touch fades away and is almost painful.

you hear him sneer like he's holding back himself. “you've never been touched like this, have you?” his glowing eyes demand a response that strangles in your throat. “not even by yourself.” his voice comes out hesitantly as if it had barely occurred to him just now. “you sigh every time i brush against you in the dance piece. is it rude for me to think you're a virgin?” he coaxes, breathing artificially.

he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look at him. “haechan... please...” it's painful to look at him, shame crowds in your stomach, to be seen that way. undesirable.

“so you've never been on a date?” he inquires. “have you had a boyfriend, angel?” he grabs you by the chin as a devil grin spreads across his angelic face. you see him bite his lip, thoughtful. “would it be disrespectful to tell you my favor, then? can it scare you?”

your desire to know is greater than your desire to run away from him and his gaze full of wild amusement. you close your eyes when his burns.

your insides melt and tingle. thousands of butterflies hatching and flapping their wild wings in your guts. you think the dance has gone magnificently because of that. and now you need to know. what he thinks of you when he sees you. what he thinks of you when you're not around. when he's alone in his room. when he's lost in your head. you want to know if you don't leave his thoughts like he doesn't leave yours. “use your pretty voice.”

your eyes open to see him curl his lips, dazzling eyes lost in his thoughts.

“tell me...”

haechan's entertained. you see him having fun when he says, “here, in front of the whole world? i'd rather show you.” he comes closer, and his scent is intoxicating, he smells aromatic, soft and warm leather trail when he moves to your ear. “d'you want me to show you, angel? how much i want to run my tongue all over your body now? make you tremble, and sigh? bite your thighs, and your belly? taste you?”

your eyes flutter from the overdose of images that fill your mind. it (he) makes you dizzy to the point that you have to hold on to his shoulders. “make you scream my name before i make it choke in your mouth?” it overwhelms you when you feel him smelling you.

something soft and silky runs down your stomach and you feel your legs numb, squeezed together. “haechan...”

he lets out a long chuckle, “yeah, just like that.” his voice comes out hoarse and laborious.

your body tingles to feel his touch where you need it. your senses are in an uproar and over the place and there isn't an ounce of judgment right now that forces you to think clearly because haechan has lit a flame within you that threatens to consume you whole if you don't extinguish it.

“do you… want me?”

“of course i do, angel. i want you so bad.”

haechan waits for you to respond, drunk from the sensations on the surface. surprised by how much you long for him too. “i want you too.”

you can almost feel the ghost of his smile brushing against the base of your neck. it takes your breath away, to look at him so closely. moles and beauty marks dotting his face that you now take the courage to admire, and you helplessly think, you've been a fool to wait so long.

he has long lashes as well as long hair. and soft bags under his eyes that fluff up when his face lights up, all the time. his gaze is the same as the coffee charged in the mornings. sober, energizing and bitter, but... but if he wishes, it can be hot chocolate, warm, sweet, soft; you want him to be soft. his whole face looks like a work of art, meticulously carved like one of those works in marble, like an angel. with full cheeks and lips in an eternal pout, and good-boy features; your neck burns knowing he's not.

“i'd…” oh, no. the words come out before you can stop your stupid mouth from revealing your thoughts.

his eyebrows shoot upwards, attentively. “all ears.”

“i'd like you to kiss me.”

you can breathe properly when his playful gaze leaves yours, but you feel like you're carrying the weight of the world again when it lingers on your lips, and then he wets his own. “granted.”

his mouth feels warm and soothing. skilled motion adjusting to yours like pieces of a puzzle. haechan takes his time. you see him trying to hold back, hands cupping your face as if he knows you'll run away if he doesn't. until his lips venture to move pursing onto you, caressing you in a kiss.

he eases his lips brushing yours, it feels like torture. moving his mouth skillfully, leaving you dazed and static, falling into an abyss. your emotions get tangled. the sensations explode and bristle your skin as you feel him moving his mouth over yours. his addictive breath hits, his kisses become deeper, more voracious.

your mouths meet infinitely, moving in sync. it's slow, it's avid. lips fitting and adjusting each time he twirls his tongue against yours, clashing breath mingling in the space you take between kisses.

haechan strokes your back and you arch to him. you feel like dissolving as he cradles you into his intoxicating embrace and the taste of wine on his lips, musk scent lingering around you, fuzzing your mind while his mouth chaotically kisses you, luring you to the nearest wall to corner you and make out with more desire.

his body hums when you sigh against his mouth, startled by the soft collision of his lips, keeping you in a trance. hands roaming your waist and arms, fingers touching his tight muscles under his soft skin. hair soft and messy, cheeks puffy in contrast with his angular jaw, lined by your index fingers.

you flinch when he grabs your wrists, uneven and sharp breathing bathing your face. “pleased?”

it takes a while for the fog to lift from your eyes before you see him flash a smirk on his face. “yes...” sharp smile growing on his pursed lips, swollen and red from the passionate encounter with yours. “did you... did you like it?”

he nods, “very. should i kiss you until leave you breathless?” your mouth tingles to feel his again, but haechan keeps you in your place. “i won't be able to stop if you kiss me again.”

you feel your face burn under his piercing gaze, you want him so close. “i don't want you to.” you can't take your eyes off his, not when he seems to set emotions on fire to keep yours warm.

you watch him weigh what you've said as he lets go of your wrists and his touch goes to his lips. “d'you want me to be your first?”

your neck burns when you nod. “say it then.”

a sharp tingle settles in your chest, and your breath comes out uneven, just by thinking of saying it out loud. you don't think you're capable of doing it, you've never been expressive and being asked to do so is a lot to digest. but you want it. You want him so much it aches and your mouth opens... “i-” you say in an exhalation as he draws you to himself and press his lips against yours.

he kisses you with delicate caresses and deeply, clearing the pressure in your body.

haechan looks at you and reassures you. “hae...”

“shh... i was playing, angel. no need, hmm? let's go home.”

୨♡୧

the rest of the night slips out of your mind. flashing lights pass by at high speed, like an asteroid traveling through outer space. with your wild hair waving in the wind, cold breeze that would freeze you if it weren't for the fact that you take refuge in the warm space of his back as he rides through the city.

your mind feels scattered and dizzy, in a reverie.

with him coming up with a calm step behind you, boyish eyes wandering you. spontaneous, loose movements, leaning back on the door frame while your fingers tremble as you try to find the right key. haechan's long digits take them from your hands to take care of the lock. he sighs as doing so, ethereally.

haechan enters the space cautiously. he's been stuck in his mind ever since you uttered those hurried words, which slowly settled in your stomach and became real. you want him to do it. you want it to be him.

your apartment looks totally different from the previous time. you've been cleaning a lot. he knows where the couch is. his eyes rest on the furniture before looking over his shoulder at you. something flashes fleetingly on his face. a smile.

“my room... is this way.”

he makes a gesture, prompting you to walk as he follows. you hear his footsteps grinding on the wood of your old apartment until it ceases; he stops in front of a closed door. “is your roommate at home?” he wants to know.

“she won't bother us...”

a sly smile spreads across his lips as his eyebrows arch playfully. “bother us? doing what?”

“... you like to see me dismayed, d-don't you?”

“i like to see you, yes.”

you can't help but blush, you've taken a liking to the way he teases you.

a brief smile crosses his face, lighting up his gaze. “your room is pink.” his tone of voice layered with complex emotions and mockery. “your roommate's black, i imagine?” he opens his doe eyes when you urge him to lower his voice. “are you afraid that she'll hear to us? angel, how do you expect us to be able to...?” he rejoices when you cover his mouth. the unexpected movement causes his hands to rest on your back.

you let him go, biting your lip. you try to do breathing exercises to stop your neck from burning so much. haechan paces through your small room until he stops at something that catches his eye. the big, long mirror leaning against the wall.

“i use it to practice... my movements.” he tenses. it doesn't even fit in your room, you've had to make a bit of space and...

“it's in front of your bed,” he comments quietly. a sigh leaves his lips, “seriously, don't you know what you're doing to me?” he questions when he sees your confusion. his hand goes to his favorite part when he wants you to lose yourself in his gaze, but his ends up going to your lips. tongue wetting his mouth before bringing it to yours. “you don't know, hm...?”

he kisses you, intensely. wet mouth on yours, half-open and moving slowly. “i won't be able to restrain myself if you want me to be gentle,” he whispers against your lips parted. “but i could, if you ask me.”

he holds one of your wrists as he kisses you with agility, deep motions as he moves his mouth with ease over your lips opening for him, feeling your inner thighs burn when he brings it down his sternum and groin. “see what you do?” you gasp and he takes advantage to kiss you ardently.

his puffy lips leave chaste and moist kisses. mouths colliding and meeting in the middle. “touch me, angel.” you tremble. hoarse voice and in a whisper.

haechan let you go and you acknowledge that he doesn't want you to touch him just there; he just wants to feel your hands on him.

your body feels heavy. normally, you can't move your limbs when you're caught in this way. but you haven't noticed it, most of the time you haven't noticed how he melts when you run your hands through his hair. so you do, only to witness it one more time.

haechan breaks to kiss you harder. devastating and killer. with intense passion that clouds your judgment. your hands go to his shoulders as you feel your body move beneath his, blindly guiding you until your knees hit the bed. haechan pulls away and his lips look swollen, his eyes spill a wild feeling when he looks at you and you respond by sitting on the soft surface, between his legs.

you see him kneel in front of you, caress his face, and his eyes close in delight. your whole body feels raw, sensitive, and eager for him to touch it. feeling static as his fingers wander up and down your legs, hands grabbing the soft flesh of your thighs while his eyes drink your reaction.

you feel powerful when he looks at you, a gaze full of crackling fire that spills out when he opens his mouth on your legs. your hands grab his hair, and he moans. repeating the sweet sound in your head before his hands go up to your waist, suddenly hovering over you. “do you think we'll need wine tonight?” you asks shyly.

his eyes burn when they demand that you put your senses back to work. it's quite a process when you have to pick them up from all the places in your room after he's messed them up.

“i want you sober.” he towers over you on the bed. you have no choice but to rest on your elbows as his shiny chain gently pats your nose. “so you can feel everything tonight.”

he smiles when you gulp, “lay down.” his hands slide up to grip your waist and your eyes close, in anguish, doing what he says.

haechan is charged, his body seems to buzz when you feel him against you.

you're gasping for air when his mouth collides with yours again, pushing your body down, pressing his mouth harder. you feel gravity pushing his presence upon you, your legs open on either side of his waist, and your hands are caught by his and placed on either side of your head, with no escape but to kiss him back.

haechan moves unexpectedly and you gasp in his mouth. something pokes your belly. hard and big. your senses are stirred up and you feel your inner self dissolve, fog clouding your mind when he does it again and you feel a reaction on your legs, flaming hot.

when his hands grab the hem of your shirt, you panic. “can... can we turn off the light?”

the bruises are barely visible, but if he's this close, he'll be able to notice them all. and you don't want me to see you like that.

haechan pulls away from you and looks around. when he reaches out to turn off the lamps on your bedside table, that hard thing presses back into the valley of your femininity, and you gaze at the stars.

troubled senses travel to the moon. your mind is a hazy territory of disjointed thoughts, and density settles in your vision.

he removes your clothes like a total expert. you let him undress you completely while your whole body purrs with searing pleasure. exposed to his gaze going over your body, taking his time. when he prepares to undress, you want to help him.

haechan bears with patience at your trembling hands removing his clothes. buff, toasted chest that you caress in a trance, you touch his stomach and his collarbones, stifling a sigh. his heart beats fast under your palm, and you could take it if you want to.

your mouth leaves soft kisses, one, two, three. haechan smiles at each of them. his mouth reciprocates your caresses.

his soft, firm fingers rest on yours to help you with the process. “you're doing well, angel.” he kisses you as you lay down when he pushes you. you can't even follow the thread of his words by the gentle collision of your skins against each other, chests rising and falling, uncontrolled breaths when your mouths meet, and hands roaming across your body, pinching, grasping, caressing.

he touches you and you pant; only he has come this close.

haechan takes you to ecstasy just by roaming through your body. when his wet mouth comes down yours and wraps one of your breasts with his lips, tongue flicking on the bristling skin, your back arches in desire, trickling down your stomach.

he keeps you close to him. fingers barely running his nails up and down your thighs as he kisses you deeply. you hold your breath when you feel his hand touch you. he hums almost and the sound comes up tortured, “you're soaking wet, angel.”

“hae... please.” you gulp, “i want to feel you.”

his body jerks over yours after you talk. “let me stretch you first, hmm?”

your head pulls back when he inserts a finger inside. “so wet. fuck. you feel so soft, angel. will you warm up my cock?” he coats his fingers with your arousal, pumping them in and out.

your back arches, and he shoves them deeper, rocking them inside, making room so he can put another finger. “a-ah, haechan.” a breathy moan escapes your lips, and haechan coaxes a few more when he strokes your pussy back and forth. your plushie walls narrow around his digits as your legs try to close in front of his stomach, the sensations intensifying inside you, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

a white noise whips your mind when he speeds up and you whine helplessly, feeling something sucking you from your core.

“i... i need you.” you cry when a sharp pain streaks your breath away and he begins to slow down, finger sitting inside your swollen walls as you throb.

he kisses you and pulls his fingers out. “anything my angel says.”

haechan fits in between your legs, you sense his penis lining up with your pussy before he pushes inside. when he enters you, you both choke a gasp. he needs to take the time to adjust. you think you hear him say you're too narrow. he wet his fingers and takes them down to your intimacy and you almost scream when he massages your clit with his cock twitching inside.

he grunts when you inevitably squeeze, sneering. “s-sorry,” you whisper when he licks his lips. “it felt nice.” he doesn't stop massaging the swollen lump, and you find yourself seeing stars every time your vision goes out of focus. his flushed face coming into the frame to gaze at him as you cup his cheeks.

“does it hurt?” his eyes are tinged with blue.

“no.” you're bewitched, when he smiles tenderly and moves in, the rest of his cock buries inside.

he breathes, and nuzzles more. “my sweet girl.”

your cheeks are moist and your mouth half-open, as he begins to slowly penetrate you. gasps come out of your mouth with each thrust of his pelvis with yours. you're in limbo, completely evicted. hands cupping his face, in a state of lethargy. “d'you like it, love?” he hisses when you clench, a short laugh assails him.

his eyes have turned black, darkened by the night and the burning desire that crackles with every stroke of his dick. “... y-yes,” you moan, closing your eyes.

he pulls you by the waist and your lower body sticks closer to his crotch, arching you to him. he starts to move rhythmically and you cuffs the sheets. the feel of his thick length feels delicious, and the deeper he pushes in the higher you scream. “hae!” you want him to go in harder, faster, deeper.

haechan curses under his breath before clashing his mouth with yours, lips synchronized with the constant glee of his pounding. your emotions react to him, the way he grops you as he fucks you. stretching you out smoothly and gently. the way he slides inside you without giving you a break.

“fuck, baby. f-fuck!”

your fingers touch his back, his shoulders blades flexing with each stroke. when he hurries the movement, your nails bury in the tender skin and he moans loudly. your whole body hums possessed by the most delicious intensity imaginable and as you feel an electric current run down your body, you scream. “haechan.” a cry after another. “g-god.”

his dick slams hard inside you, filling you with extreme sedative pleasure every time he hits your sweet spot. “you feel so nice. so warm and sweet.”

you muffle a whimper when he pushes deeper, “do you like it when i'm this gentle with you, angel?” bottoms out before pulling it out and repeating it. tapping his pelvis against you rhythmically. his eyes are tightly closed, and his pretty and agitated face looks distressed.

“... push deeper.” he grimaces and the very thought of having him this affected by your words makes your body tingle.

“fuck.” his mouth opens as he hammers you, taking his thick cock around your walls covered in your arousal. his arms collapse on either side of your body and pull him to you. “hae...” you call when you see him hide his face in your neck. you swallow, “is something wrong?” you're dying to know. doubts grow in you. he doesn't want to see you because he doesn't like what he sees?

“no, angel.” he says, tracing circles on your clitoris in a spontaneous gesture. his thumb hits the swollen area and makes you moan helplessly. “i won't last longer if you keep clenching like that.” he kisses your neck, and you melt. he strokes you faster and messier when you do it, “hmm... just like that, angel.” he tenses on top of you and you hold him tighter. “fuck, you're so sweet.”

his breath messes up some strands of your head when he shifts the pace. your legs jerks from the sensation as he strokes you a little bit faster. a whiplash runs through you while your numb limbs scatter on either side of his body, “hae.” you're drunk with pleasure, his name always showing up in your mind even then.

it's so blurry... and dizzy. feeling his grip on one of your legs, entranced by the way he moans as the knot in your stomach releases and drags you into semi-consciousness, fucking you sharper. a strangled gasp leaves your mouth when your body sinks into the sedative effect of his thrusts. “h-hmgh, hae!” your body tingles and squirms as an elongated gasp leaves your lips, feeling him too much, even when he slows down.

your heart thumps erratically as the white sensation takes over your senses and leaves you in a catalytic state. something else pulse along with your heartbeat. you swallow hard as haechan receives each of your spasms attacking your pussy.

he strokes your hair. “so good, angel”

your mouth feels dry. you feel a tingling in your cunt as he keeps rocking his dick in and out. “can i get one more?”

you feel the sensation of your high on his aching cock, swollen walls pressing his length. “o-oh.”

he revels.

his face appears in the haze, brows frowned. eyes consumed by his pupil darkened. your heart skips a beat at the view. “oh,” you seem to tense around him at the simple sound of his voice. “is that a yes?” a pleasant warmth buzzes in your belly. yes. yes.

you hug him by the shoulders as he comes to you and rests his face on your shoulder. the chill of the night makes your hair stand on end, but haechan warms you up with his slender and toned body; his skin still feels smooth despite looking carved. like marble. you cry when he increases the intensity of his hips crashing against yours. panting leaves your lips. “h-haechan!”

he grunts, “fuck, you're doing so good, angel. you're so sweet for me.” your eyes go to the back of your head when it's unbearable and overwhelming. the way he penetrates you with rhythmic beats that makes you sigh with fascination, enraptured and numb. hands making fist the sheets under your bodies due to his tip constantly pressing that hidden spot inside you, filling more and more the pool of pleasure.

your room is filled with lewd sounds and your moaning. labored breathing as he fucks you senseless. your eyes open through the mist that blurs your tear-filled eyes from the euphoria he makes you feel, and your wet, swollen lips moan his name between kisses as he wraps your legs around his waist, reaching your climax once more.

“s-shit, yn... fuck—” his movements become erratic and desperate, his strokes becoming rougher, tensing his body over yours as he loses control and he moans breathlessly, possessed as he ejaculates.

your eyes register every gesture he makes as he cums. his eyes closed tightly, his mouth half-open in bewilderment, his face flushed with pleasure, highlighting his moles by splashing his face. your mouth rests on his throat, which rises and falls when he swallows hard.

a loud sound startles you. haechan slides away from you, smiling in glee.

you think your roommate has heard you.

your body feels light and resting among the clouds when he moves you around. he shifts you at will, making you rest on your knees. you feel like you're on the verge of fainting. worn and smiling, looking at the reflection of your body and his behind you in the mirror.

“don't look away,” he commands. his hands push your body down by the waist, where he guides his tip back to your pussy. the lewd motion of him sliding it up and down through your sensitive folds makes you see stars before you choke out a gasp when you feel him pushing inside.

your eyes flutter and take in the night light filtering through the open window and spilling onto his sunny skin. haechan's eyebrows come together, and his mouth opens before his head falls back. he's feeling you. “shit.”

his hands move to your forearms as your body pulls forward, feeling the sweet burning crowd into your intimacy. he pushes you back and drowns out a plaintive moan, hissing as your walls take him deeper.

he feels full inside, he fills all the space of you with his girth. something flutters in your guts when you can feel him sitting between your walls.

he holds you right below your tummy and presses you into the lump inside. he grins and bites your shoulder at the lewd scenery of him making you feel him before he slides out and pulls back in. “feels nice?” he asks, staring at your dazed expression.

“very.”

he coaxes the most crumbling feeling in you. mind cluttering only with his sounds replaying in a loop. your body moves up and down just to hear them again, and your eyes don't leave the mirror, but not to look at you; to gaze at him.

he chuckles, “f-fuck, angel. just like that.”

your insides are buzzing. your belly purrs, as he elongates every word when he says, “just like that.”

୨♡୧

in the pleasant evening, you find yourself ambiguously exhausted and in a euphoric outburst. your body have synced with haechan's throughout the performance, and your muscles have recorded the steps in every fiber. both of you finding airless, the space charged with electricity and static when he slides your hands away and the distance between your bodies grows wider.

it's been magical all the evening. your body feels strange and at the same time pleasant and it's because of him. every time your eyes meet, you remind of what you've been doing for the past few days. his face showing amidst the haze, his arms flexed under your palms, features twitching as he climaxes after making you cum a couple of times before; every time he guides you as kai introduces you to important figures, you revel on the reminiscences of his warm body, his chiseled muscles and his gentle touch.

“how do you feel?” his breath makes your skin bristle when he gets close to your ear.

“good…” he grins when your cheeks warm up. haechan takes advantage of the absent-mindedness of the diners to squeeze your ass and the gesture makes you feel the small plump bury in the tight hole. a sigh takes the air out of you at the overwhelming and strange sensation expanding within you. “feels good?” he wonders, watching your face for some kind of discomfort.

you nod and he mimics you, eyes glinting. “how much?” your legs squeeze against each other at the hoarse tone of his voice. “very much.”

you've begun to feel your essence transform every time his hands intertwine as he takes you to the edge of the world. eyes softly darken when he leaves you hanging in space and brings you back to him, kissing you slowly. it makes you crave so much more.

you squeeze against the object inserted into you, expanding you. your stomach flutters with butterflies when he says, “i want to fuck you hard with it tonight.”

he doesn't leave your side as kai introduces you to important figures, fingers on your back lingering on your body, guiding the way.

the spell you're in is soon broken when kai arrives and drags you from his embrace, taking you somewhere else to be the main entertainment.

it takes you a couple of minutes to pull yourself together as you let kai guide you, putting all your focus on getting your breath to stop pulsating in your ears and stomach. to put out the fire that burns your legs.

it's not until you hear him speak that you realize the scarcity of people in the room he's brought you, the dim light, and the languid smile on his face. “mon magnifique cygne.”

(my magnificent swan.)

“well done. in the end, you do possess something in you, hidden, of course, but nothing it can't be exploited. nothing i can't make it shine like a bright sun.” his finger taps his chin twice as he studies you.

“have i done it right?”

“you've done flawlessly. you've stolen glances today, precious.”

a smile falters on your mouth as you feel something uncomfortable slipping down your spine. “will there be other performances?”

kai's eyes fall on you with disdain, “performances? yes, of course. swan lake is the most famous in the academy. many kill for the role. others leave it with claws and bite marks.”

you didn't know how coveted the position was. all the wary looks make sense now that you know how much they want your position. “i'll do my best.” his gaze rises to your face as if he hasn't heard you.

“you've done enough. all the important men want you. they can't wait.” he scoffs, “you've been the best swan they've ever seen, but another one will come. there's always another one coming.”

his words form a whirlpool that throws you off balance. “another?”

“you didn't think you'd be the swan forever, did you, baby? in this world moving at high pace? you're foolish and at the same time deluded.”

kai stares at your blank expression, completely stunned. his words have left you feeling sick. “you said they liked it... i thought that... you said they can't wait to...”

“oh, yeah. they have loved you, expressly stated. they can't wait to use your body as they please.”

the moment the truth comes crashing down on you, your heart contracts with sharp pain. surprise and horror form a dense, heavy cocktail that makes your body squirm and go tense. “you thought you were good enough and different from the rest? my precious, there's a thousand more like you in every corner of the city. you're as replaceable as any prop on the stage. your only function is to generate emotions. joy, sadness, lust.”

you don't notice how close he gets until he caresses your cheek. and he is so attractive, that you don't understand why your body rejects his affection. hands play with your dress, body turned to stone by his gorgon gaze. “are you going to force me...?” your voice comes out almost inaudible.

kai gets annoyed with your stutter, “force you? i'd rather you do it of your own free will.”

“let me prove it to you, i'll do my best.”

“they're all the best, silly girl. but you're being great so far, i can make an exception, everything for my crowd's jewel. i propose you a deal. if... you prove you're the best, then i'll give you the role once more... but if you don't, you'll comply.”

your insides crackle with the parallel of making a deal with the devil.

you see his graceful body relaxed as he chats with a ballerina. it doesn't take long for him to find you in the crowd, his eyes darkening in front of you. your inner self dissolves when his fingers intertwine with yours and he pulls you out of there. it's so easy for him to draw all the attention to him, make your whole world revolve around him.

his hand full of rings play with you on the way to his bike. “do you want to drive it on the way home?”

“won't it be dangerous?”

you gaze at him and you feel like he was expecting that answer from you. “it'll be fun.”

he guides you from the waist to the front of the bike and his hands put yours where they should go. when he pressed into you, a crushing current shakes you when the plump moves in. a few stars dance on your vision and your toes curl.

haechan laughs lively. “see? fun,” he states, starting the engine.

the drive home is full of potholes and abrupt stops on purpose. your core vibrates and ignites every time the plug collides with haechan's pelvis, and there's no use for you to not lose your mind when even the soft humming of the bike sends shivers down your legs. by the time you arrive home, you're so soak and needy you kiss him ardently as soon as you take off the helmet.

you let haechan take care of taking you to your apartment. he elated seeing you so affected and sighing against his mouth. his fingers tap the toy over your clothes and you almost squeal in pleasure. “haechan… hmm…”

he makes you sit on top of him on your bed, kissing your neck while he begins to tap rhythmically the plump in your needy hole. you shudder and grind against him. “my girl's so needy for me to fuck her?”

he lifts you and works on his pants. when he releases his rock-hard erection, your vision fogs up. “undress.”

he remains dressed except for a couple of undone buttons on his black shirt. you take off all your clothes and stand in front of him, at his mercy, eager mouth wanting to touch his lips when he bites them, angling your face so he can kiss you deeper.

his fingers play with the plug, pulling it out of you. “my pretty girl. want me to replace this?” you breathe erratically. “with my cock, hmm?” he turns you, both facing the mirror. hands making you spread the way he wants you. his hard cock hits your pubic area from behind.

you sob when he starts to slide it along your folds. having to wait kills you while he takes his time covering his length with your silky lubrication. “eyes in the mirror.” he aligns it against your hole and starts to push it in.

a strangled gasp leaves your lips when his fingers begin to play with your clit as he slowly enters you from behind. he goes in and out a couple of times, adding inches until he fills you all the way in. “does it hurt?”

your eyes flutter. “just right.”

a rare feeling spread through your legs and it feels full. he smiles and closes his eyes. “move for me, yeah?”

your legs barely respond when you go up a bit and feel fire go down your thighs, sliding it back in, picking your pace. haechan's hands stay on your waist, helping you to go back and forth, adjusting to him. “don't look away, angel.” circling your clit and whispering praises as you're about to collapse from the overwhelming sensation taking over.

he welcomes you into his embrace when you can't take it anymore, totally carried away by the atrocious pleasure that plagues you. holding his wrist and making him go faster on you. “hae… hm-mgh.”

his cock moves inside you and you squeeze your eyes shut. the pleasure is very intense when he thrusts you deep while playing with the swollen clit, and you soon find yourself trembling over him. legs shutting close when waves of spasms take your breath away.

eyes catching his fingers coated with your slick gushing out of you before a sharp tingling almost leaves you catalytic. “a-ah, angel.” you begin to throb violently making him a hissing mess. pretty sounds fill the room when you regain consciousness as he pulls out.

he lays you on the bed, and kisses you. “tired?” your body feels sleepy and a little painful. but it feels… loaded.

you see his wild eyes gleaming with delight when you shake your head. pulling him in by the neck so he can lay on top of you and taking off his clothes. you wrap your legs around his waist to guide his erect length to your entrance.

your wrist are firmly taken by him, face lurking over you before kissing you savagely. your legs burn and your head spins as it starts to penetrate you. “my pretty angel.” you moan his name. “all mine.” you feel his smile when he talks.

“hmm…?” he inquires when he doesn't catch what you muttered.

“i want to be yours.” your eyes open to see his expressions bathed in uneasiness fleetingly. “make me yours,” you repeat, cupping one of his cheeks when his grip loosened.

you draw him to you and kiss him, lost in the clouds. mouths adjusting before merging into each other. haechan hides in your neck and squeezes you tighter against him, sinking into you.

“angel.”

“make love to me,” you say loud and clear. “please?”

“yeah? is that what my sweet girl dreams, hmm?” he inquiries, thrusting you slowly. “you want me to be your prince?” he mocks softly.

your eyes roll and he grins. you arch towards him and feel your eyes tear up. “please.”

“you're so dreamy.” he bites your nipple, “you want me to make you mine, angel?”

you say yes in a breathless sigh. “a-ahg.” he rocks his dick back and forth while sucking on your tits. “as you wish, my girl.”

and while he fucks you skillfully, white noise fog your brain, and you can almost feel it flapping its wings.

୨♡୧

you don't think you can make it to the end of the week.

you dance and dance and dance to exhaustion until kai smiles with satisfaction.

you find no solace in keeping him happy, you look like a ghost haunting the halls of the academy.

your footsteps lead you to the restroom, feeling sick; you forgot to eat today. you've skipped a couple of meals the past few days, but that's not why you freeze at the sight of your haggard reflection in the mirror, but the depraved word written with red lipstick covering all the space.

WHORE.

the air escapes you when set out to erase it, hearing laughter from the booths.

you endure the punches and you endure even more being broken into a thousand pieces. on your behalf, chasing the dream, until it's impossible to carry both.

haechan's touch never felt rough, but your body shudders every time his hands brush against you. your skin is sore, bruised, dotted with small marks that you hide under your clothes. you try not to squirm, don't let others know. they will see you as weak, you'll be marked as prey. and because of that, you try to cope with the pain until you finish the piece.

kai dispatches everyone at the end of the night.

you're in a trance that you don't get out of until you're picking up your things again at the end of the routine, numb and empty, wandering off the exit to see haechan on his motorcycle.

it's like seeing through a lens. smiling at you with his characteristic and diabolical grin, curving his full a and pouty lips, lighting his carved face. an out-of-body experience, watching the girl so much like you touch his hair, it almost feels intimate. just like you two.

wongyoung looks over her shoulder and smiles, catching haechan's attention.

his boyish eyes travel to you, acknowledging your presence. gaze locking for the first time that night, and god, how much you missed the soft feeling he causes in you, sedating your soul, completely consumed by the obsessive compulsion taking up space within you.

your lower lip trembles when you're left alone. you want him to take you home again, but instead, he scoffs, sardonic when he sees you crying.

“they... they have...” the need to tell him overwhelms you, but what do you want to confess? what weighs more? your sore body? the filthy messages? kai?

haechan sighs, disdainfully. “you like to be a martyr, don't you?”

your eyes are unable to avoid searching his for something you can sustain yourself with, but you find only annoyance and darkness covering his true colors. “look, angel. don't be stupid, i don't care about you. i don't like you. did i ever ask you out?” his honey-brown eyes search yours for traces of having affected you. “i only took you to bed.”

“why did you?”

“because you're beautiful; but so are other women, and i enjoy fucking them, i enjoyed fucking you, but nothing else.”

tears stream up your eyes and you can't stop them, “why... why are you so m-mean to me?”

your muscles have stiffened and turned to stone as you take his words in. he goes over your figure and snorts, “i'm being honest.” the way he pronounces it makes you believe otherwise. “you're making this a big of a deal, but the thing is, shit happens. you should learn to take insults the same way you take compliments.” he starts his bike, engine purring and filling in the space of your little response, busy trying to stay on your feet.

he doesn't leave, he gloats that his words have hit you good. and you find your broken heart more painful than your whole body bruised. “i'll just break your heart. i'm doing you a favor.”

“i never asked for one.” you don't want to see the sadistic and lascivious smile that surely crosses his features, you want to keep the image you like the most of him, with his lazy grin and bright eyes, burned in your mind when he leaves and the night engulfs him.

you find yourself in a world of shadows and silences when haechan behaves indifferent towards you after his encounter. he pretends you don't exist, his eyes turn away from yours as if he is disgusted to look at you. he repulses you completely, his hands pull away from you as if they are on fire, fingers flexing into a fist and unclenching as he leaves the room.

he soon returns to his usual gait that you had wanted so much to ignore. when his lips stretch into a smile typical of him and gives it to wongyoung. jealousy consumes you, clouds your judgment and makes you furious when you see her place her hands on his chest and corner him against a wall as she kisses him unceremoniously even though you have felt her gaze acknowledge your presence.

she’s everything you’re not. she's bold. and sensual and what haechan is attracted to.

it's hard to pretend it hasn't affected you. you think about it even outside of academia. you let the words he spoke set your mood. the way you dance.

kai's blank expression is more terrifying than his sardonic one. the live music is extinguished just by raising his index finger, which he then brings to your lips. “where is it?”

you're afraid you don't know what he's talking about, you're afraid he stares at you as if you have to know. “my swan, where is it?” he puts his lips on a fine line when he gets no response from you or haechan.

there is a tense and quiet atmosphere between you. you barely look at each other. he's grossed out every time he has to keep you close ‘til kai fixes your postures. he separates himself from you and puts meters of distance between you. he just looks at you through the mirror and you're aware of his features darkening with hatred.

“you've been doing alright the last rehearsals, what happened now?” he wants to know, very calm for your thrill.

you and haechan look at each other without thinking, before you look away. “again,” kai says, suddenly delighted.

live music plays again and soon you resume the dance. and it's impossible to ignore how he avoids you at all costs. how he looks anywhere but your face, how his hands feel like they're touching acid. he moves away from you very quickly and his touch barely rubs you, feeling the sudden sensation that he's grossed out by you.

the piano ceases with a move of his fingers and something crumbles inside of you as you have stumbled in the grand jeté. “i'm done.” kai grabs his papers and leaves the room without giving you a glance.

you hold your ankle in your hands in anguish at the time you hear haechan steps echoing on the floor, leaving. it aches awfully, but nothing serious, you just landed on a bad angle. maybe you need ice...

“are you okay?” he asks, kneeling beside you. his eyes go over and study your expression, slowly replacing for other. “answer me. are you hurt?”

he checks your body with his hands without waiting for a response. gaze analyzing every part of it until it goes down to your ankle. “you need ice...” you see him make a gesture to carry you, as if he wants to take care of it himself.

haechan looks at you when you reject his touch. he can exert more force and carry you anyway, you're sure of that, but he remains calm and instead tries to convince you by softening his gaze. “let me take care of it.”

and the stupid version of you would've fallen at his feet.

“d'you want to take care of it now?” you pronounce.

haechan stares at you dumbfounded. his delicate expression bathed in trouble, frowning while his eyes flames with something. worry. “of course i want... angel. i care.”

you get up, shunning his assistance, but haechan gives you no respite. you are unable to get away from him when he is strongest and most determined to receive your hands in fists pushing him away and punching his buff chest. he doesn't move an inch. “leave me alone. leave me alone!”

he grabs you by the forearms and you fight to break free. “you're hurting yourself.” the anger gradually fades away, your attempts to escape his grip become weaker. you're about to pass out, “s-stop tormenting me,” you ask, pleadingly. “haven't you had enough?”

you see through the tears his face. his cheeks. his moles. his lips and eyes. but you find nothing. you don't even find love.

“i've been hurt, i-i... they...” you stutter when you start to cry, regretting it because you've said it before, and you remember that he still doesn't care.

you cry in front of him, in complete and tense silence. his grip has loosened and you hope he won't let you go, that he will hug you. “i don't know what he wants from me. why has he chosen me?”

“he wants your purity, angel,” he says, with a husky voice.

you laugh reluctantly. “well, you already stole it from me.”

haechan doesn't stop you when you get rid of his embrace. he doesn't do that when you leave either.

୨♡୧

the reflection in the mirror seems to be smiling at you when you get out of the shower. your face blurs in front of you by the foggy steam and your hand rish to undo a perfect scribble into a loosened word constantly chasing you. something lurks in your chest when you finally erase the message, an uneasy feeling as you roam around your room.

the feeling settles more when you don't see your underwear anywhere just as you hear footsteps on the corridor.

“have you been taking my underwear?” you peek into the next room to find it empty, except for a pair of black panties on the made-up bed. “there they are.”

you've been having brain fogs lately.

your mind wanders most of the time in periods that you have no record of. you have no memories of getting to the academy or how you end back at your apartment. no reminiscences of eating or sleeping. and you don't recall where you were the night before.

kai has become quieter as you and haechan avoid each other.

you can bear his presence behind you. is overwhelming, you feel leaden. “my prince, would you fuck this girl?”

you are short of breath and your eyes shoot towards kai at such an unscrupulous question. “you wouldn't,” he vouches for haechan when he makes no hint of answering. “i wouldn't.”

you bite your lip when you threaten to break right there, and your eyes move through the mirror of their own volition. towards his face, taking on a pink tint. “you're dismissed. bring wongyoung when you're out.” the air refills your lungs at his statement, moving your feet to gather your stuff. “not you.”

haechan stares at kai intensely, his eyes between you and him. a muscle jumps in his jaw as he looks at you troubled. “and don't take long, prince,” kai adds, thrilling. live music is playing again and his gaze spills over to you one last time before leaving you alone and helpless.

you're so immersed in his presence leaving the room that you haven't noticed that you've held your breath until your lungs ache from your shallow breathing. you're not so quick to register kai's entering the scene. you've let him corner you alone again, his indistinct gaze sweeps across your figure and even though you're fully dressed, you feel helpless. “told you it might happen.”

he lurks around you. “the question is whether you will let her take your role without a fight..., wongyoung is… obscure. her dancing is not as technical and superb as yours, but it is definitely thrilling to watch. she casts the black swan wonderfully. with a dark impulse, maybe, yet so destructive, of course. she'd be perfect.”

he plays with the small ribbon on your shoulder, pulling the strings. your breathing freezes when he threatens to unravel and leave you exposed, “so, do we end our deal?”

you swallow hard. “give me one last chance.”

kai puzzles, “haven't i given you enough already? shouldn't you thank me a little?”

a sharp thump causes kai to curse under his breath and your eyes widen in fright, meeting haechan's darkened gaze through the mirror. he takes in your entire face, and how frightened you are. “costume fitting?”

kai scoffs, and haechan's glare becomes lethal when he looks at him, rubbing his chin in a stimulus. “seriously... can't you see you're interrupting something?”

“she's got plans already.”

“with whom?”

“with me.”

the young man remains silent, acceding just as wongyoung step into the room. “angel, let's get you home,” the honey boy asks, taking a step closer, his back turned to you, looking at kai. he peeks over his shoulder to cast a softened gaze that melts your stiff muscles and gets them going.

you work quickly, and almost automatically while haechan waits, prompting kai to stay in the room, his lips pursed in a smile. your breath thaws and soothes your aching chest once you leave, “easy, swan. the prince chooses the evil twin at the end of the piece,” he chimes before haechan drags you from there.

୨♡୧

haechan's pov.

he's out of his mind lately.

he can't stop playing the night he spent with you. your face. your body. the way you said his name so cute and ethereal. how you felt all night until you fell asleep, drowsy and with the prettiest smile he's ever seen, keeping him close.

he had to run away.

he can't come up with a name to this feeling creeping in; lust is one of his usual emotions, then comes pleasure and thrill. what could he then call emotion lingering through his senses every time he grasps your waist and a sigh slips from your lips?

it takes all the strength and will to spin his thoughts and continue the piece. when his whole being burns for you and his hands tingle and feel sensitive after touching you, fleeting from the room before you can see how troubled he is.

he never spends the night when he has casual rendezvous with girls, which happens a lot more often than he'd like you to know. he wants to keep that part away from you, he didn't want you to know.

and then suddenly he stays at your house because he's spent his time admiring your serene face in a dream.

now you ignore him in the gala and he feels physically bad. why do you make him feel this way? it's like he's the one rejected when you don't even spare him a glance. it's as if every fiber of his being reacts for you, keeps him stunned, and he doesn't understand why he feels vulnerable following you across the room while you avoid him.

“i think… can we do the swan one more time like… before? it's my last time and i want it to be... perfect.” you blush, and he can't say no even if he tries.

haechan can't get rid of the feelings; he has tried. you keep attracting him, and it torments him.

he strips himself of kazuha's caress of a crude and in a involuntary movement. “what?”

“you're pissing me off.” he doesn't find passion within him. alcohol is useless, much less get distracted.

he knows how effective his words are when she looks at him dumbfounded, “am i pissing you off? i thought you were bothered by naivety, have you changed your likings so quickly?”

he's growing tired. he has had a lot; it bothers him even more that he has spent hours cleaning a mirror that is not his and he does not even know why.

“have you done it?” he asks abruptly.

kazuha opens her eyes when he stands up. “the mirror… have you done it?”

“what mirror?” kazuha's intentions to manipulate him by looking him up wasn't effective on him; she looks stupid. “no…” he could inflict flames on her by the way he was looking at her.

“don't you dare touch her.”

“her?” he's blind my rage, and her attempts to appear innocent were annoying him, and haechan knew that by acknowledging it he would indisputably confess that she bothered him because she wanted to look like you. and she couldn't. “i swear… she's getting into your mind. haechan…”

his own name bothers him. “if i know you've hurt her...” her features relax and transform her into a demonic beauty, yet haechan is unfazed. “you haven't see the worst of me.”

his eyes look for you, you might notice it, do you? it is involuntary that his heart beat fast when he sees you coming towards him, and his eyes betray him, it has always betrayed him, when they soften. suddenly, everything inside him goes silenced by your presence. and it's almost your fault like it is you the reason.

in every chance encounter, his eyes seek you out in an involuntary reflection of the fascination he still feels when you get affected when he touches you, an indomitable sensation comes over him when he lifts you into the air and you slowly fall again, and your gazes do not avert when his seems to say everything he cannot express; the gravity that draws him to you. the tips of his fingers buzz when he catches your waist and burn when he doesn't.

“magnificent. my prince.” kai stops him as you fleet away from him and he feels the need to follow you. “seems like you know how to look desperate for her love.”

words come out like poison. “stay away from her.”

he's fucked.

he needs to take comfort right there. his palm pumps his sore cock and unscrupulously moans your name in a whimper. he fiddles with his slit and hisses, speeding up the movement. he imagines you doing it, he wants you to do it.

he longs to feel your wet mouth around him, your lips pressing into his girth, your tongue at the base of his testicles as he shoves all his cock inside, making you swallow all of his seed with your pretty pleading eyes, looking at him from below. seeing you keep stimulating his cock even though he's limb and turned into a bundle of moans and whimpers from the overdose of pleasure.

his breathing becomes labored, eyes bathed in desire that he tries to hide from your sight. “would you fuck her?”

his face burns and he curses. blushing is not a habit for him, much less getting nervous and avoiding your eyes out of embarrassment. what have you done to him?

he hasn't been able to hook up with other girls, something must have broken inside. and it's you.

୨♡୧

you try to calm your raging heart as haechan guides you by the hand out of that suffocating place. his back gives you some relief and brings back memories that you have treasured every night, but that was before. before the spell in which you're sure you would've lived inside eternally (even if it was a lie) broke.

the night greets you like old lovers, and your eyes close completely oblivious to haechan when he holds you suddenly. you find yourself dumbfounded, frozen as his arms take you in his embrace, and you smell his alluring fragrance again. with your arms trapped underneath his, unable to move as... he hugs you.

you want to keep this memory especially once you discover that it was just a dream. but it feels real. his touch feels solid, his signature intoxicating scent and it would be impossible for you to be able to recreate his face because he exhumes something heavenly. “hae...”

his muscles turn liquid when you bury your fingers into his hair just to make sure it's him. “forgive me, angel.” he breathes against your neck and squeezes you closer to him as he repeats a word over and over again.

please.

your face sinks into the space of his neck, lips brushing against his profile. leaving a kiss. his shoulders vibrate and a ragged breath assails him. he's... “please.” he's crying.

he turns away from you under your dazed state. hands roam your sides, as if he wants to renew the image he has of you this close. “i didn't know... i wouldn't have let him touch you. i thought... i... are you hurt?” he blurts out.

his eyes hold unshed tears because he's busy studying your features. his face is taken in your hands to wipe his wet cheeks. “no.”

his forehead joins yours. “let me take you home, hm...?” he whispers. “let me take care of it. let me take you on a date. i'll be worthy. give me... give one more chance.”

his hands, his fingertips... you barely remember them, but you always invoke them when kai's fingers stay longer on your skin. because his touch will never be the same as haechan's. because you want them to be his fingers and not kai's. a feeling twitches in your stomach, something dirty reveals itself and takes space as you fall into realization of his lewd behavior.

“would you... would you let me?” he says, and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

his eyes... his eyes look like the emptiness left by the stars when they are not in the sky, because he has stolen them all to keep them in his gaze. gleaming, when you nod.

୨♡୧

your eyes remain close when the purr of the bike stops. a pair of hands lingers on yours intertwined in front of his body. haechan strokes them gently just as he helps you remove the helmet. your eyes taking in the place you are right now.

you feel his attentive gaze while yours wants to travel everywhere at the same time. “you like it?”

“where are we?” not in your apartment, but in a more idyllic place.

a few star beads have fallen from the sky and float in the small space of a clearing. it's very breezy and the lights twinkle like fireflies. your hands tighten around haechan when you look down at the cliff on the side of the bike; the view of the city shining like an oasis in the night blanket.

you hear him sigh softly. “the equinox... i thought you'd like it. or i can take you home. do you... do you want to stay?” he asks once your eyes turn to him. haechan is interested in the helmet, his phone, and the bike, and the sky while a soft pink tint blooms on his cheeks. “i'd love to.”

you see him get down behind you, pulling his jacket off his shoulders. “how did you find this place?” you wonder, taking in sight the people coming and going through the mountain clearing. surely it's a ceremony for the event; there are food stalls and places to sit for dinner under the stars.

the thought of haechan stumbling upon the place casually doesn't quite fit in your head, but he responds. “i knew about it.” which doesn't quite fit either, especially when he smiles and looks away.

you nod, blinking. “hae.”

“hmm?”

“why did you bring me here?”

he looks at you, with wide doe eyes. his chest spasms as he combs his hair. “you don't like it? we can go somewhere else.”

“i like it, but... why are we here?”

every second that passes you discover what troubled he looks. “i thought you'd like it for when…- for a first date.”

he says the words carefully, as if remembering when his lips uttered terrible things to you long ago. “a first date?” you repeat, looking at him.

“our first date... you don't want to? shit, i should've asked you first. i was... i wanted to make up for what i did, the thing i said to you. i thought i could make up for it.”

“hae, shh...” he stops when you cradle his face.

“you deserve to be treated well, i thought i could give it a try.”

“you'll have a lot more girls...”

“you're the one i want.”

you shrink, “'cause i'm a fool?”

“i'm the fool, for you.”

you place a kiss on his full cheek with your hands pressed into his face. and then another closer to his mouth. “i should've asked you before, i'm sorry”

“you can ask now.”

your heart feels a strange and singular beat when the lights bathe his faces and spill over his eyes; burned honey melting on his gaze. you watch him choose his wording, “would you like to go out with me tonight?”

you chuckle, “yes.”

a smile blooms on his face, taking all the light. “should i be more romantic?” he asks, snuggling on your neck.

“why?” you ask, fuzzy.

his lips lurks closer to your cheek, and he whispers, “i'm not good with words. i could show you, instead.”

he grins like an angel. “i could kiss you.”

he comes closer before you can react, and his lips rest on yours. they're soft, assimilating your mouth over his, taking you as he slowly kisses you. his lashes tickle your cheeks and you feel him move to come back again and kiss you deeper. mouth catching up your lower lip while you play with his long hair.

his mouth goes back and forth from yours. your faces move in tune, lips colliding with vast emotion in the space between their mouths, meeting in the middle.

his eyes are sweet like honey, and the little bags underneath them, swelling up when he's happy and his gaze beams. “you don't need to be romantic with me,” you say after. “i… like you this way.”

the ethereal night slips through your fingers as haechan's hand guides you down the path, until you end up alone with the city shining in the background while kisses escalate in intensity.

your body slams gently against the fence and you stifle a sigh that haechan's deftly steals from your mouth. he corners you between him and the precipice, and little by little your judgment falls over it just as his hands caging you in his embrace as his mouth joins yours and invites your lips to move over his. he tastes like the sweet flavor of wine and something volatile, his hands running down your sides until he lifts your back off the edge to catch you in his soft, firm body.

your hands caress the nape of his neck and cheeks, fingers combing his wild hair and making him moan in your mouth. lips move down your jaw until they bury their head in your neck. haechan inhales deeply into your scent before depositing wet kisses on your skin and a sigh hangs in the open night.

his open mouth caresses your neck, feeling his tongue lash that makes you squeeze the material of his shirt. he laughs and the mere collision of his breath on your damp skin causes you to close your eyes and pant silently. haechan works diligently to elicit sighs in you, slowly losing his mind, mind getting lost in the space between the stars. his name occupies all your thoughts, slipping from your lips every time he squeezes your waist when he works wonders on your senses.

your eyebrows gather when the pleasure hurts to be released and he takes his time with you. brushing your buttocks so fleetingly he feels ghostly, groping your whole body when he kisses you ardently because his hands are never still in one place, wanting to touch you all.

the euphoria crackles inside you and his tongue enters and travels over your mouth. your hands draw him closer to you, unable to think coherently and humming when he pulls back and goes again. the kiss becomes faster and sharper. chaotic encounter in the middle before colliding again with intensity. you hear him vibrating against you as your hands grab him by the shoulders and forearms, chest and back, unable to sit still when your whole body buzzes and your senses feel fuzzy.

you haven't noticed when you've started moaning between kisses, every time his mouth moves over yours, pulling him to you every time. you feel his hot hands palming you over your clothes. “haechan,” you breathe as you kiss and kiss and kiss, and devour his lips and the intoxicating taste of wine makes you drunk. “haechan,” you say more eagerly, hearing him hum, but you don't even know what you want, you don't know how much you want him, how you want him, but you know where you need him the most.

“d'you want me to stop?” but the way he keeps placing his wet, soft mouth against yours, you're afraid he doesn't want to.

“no.” and you don't want him either, suddenly having an epiphany. you want him to touch you right there, you want to feel his fingers in your bare pussy, you want him to fuck you hard against the fence; you want him to corrupt you. completely consumed by the obsessive compulsion taking up space within you, craving to be free.

he waits for your answer, but he doesn't need it when you pant against his lips again. and a dark grin well up in his swollen, rosy mouth when he opens his mouth and restricts.

“i need to touch you, let me feel you, angel.” your eyes flutter as you nod heavily and his hands thaw to venture down the lower part of your belly, thumb tracing circles below your belly button before they disappear under your pants.

air escapes from your lungs when he meets the sore lump of your clit craving him. he curses by how wet you are, sensing it in your heated intimacy. your body breaks down in a jerk and you whine helplessly when he starts to stroke you, exerting the pressure needed to make you scream and collapse into his embrace.

your head falls on their shoulder and your body burns intensely as he rubs your clit, flicking his thumb as his middle finger flicker on your folds, turning you into a mess of sobs and strangled sounds he catches with his lips.

he coats his digits enough and moves to insert them into your needy cunt, stretching you before he starts to flick them just so he can take a look at your features contracting into a dazed grimace when the rawest pleasure shuts into your bloodstream.

haechan touches you and you must cover your mouth so as not to reveal his lewd actions in public. but you are unable to hold them inside you, and they slip through your fingers to find their way to the moon. you blink as an intense haze clouds your vision as he works wonders on your pussy and fire expands in your belly and spills down your thighs, trembling and throbbing. your eyes close and a gasp takes your breath away, skipping a heartbeat while he keeps thrusting his fingers, feeling you pulse.

“mesmerized?” he wonders when you start to blink slowly, your body going into a sedative state. “very.” your eyes focus on him, looking at you with soft eyes studying your face, and the volatile feeling stokes your belly.

he pulls out his fingers and brings them to his plump lips, your eyes flicker following the motion he does when he licks them as he locks eyes with you, “wait until i use my mouth.”

“hae… please.” he brings you closer to him. “i need you.”

“yeah? in what way?”

your hand takes his and brings it to your lips, flavoring the remnant of your silkiness from his middle finger. you see his eyes darken with desire. “should we go home then, hmm?” his voice is soft, and lulling, yet he's devilish when he mocks as he kisses you, “so i can see you do that with me this time?”

୨♡୧

all the way home your body feels like it's about to burst trying to contain the ravenous fire in your chest, the tingling between your legs, and it's not until you get to his apartment that you let it flow and gush out of you.

haechan, light up your energy as he carries you in his arms and makes you wrap your legs around his hips, walking blindly across his floor that he knows by heart. the need you have to look at his intimate space is completely eclipsed when he sits you down on the dining table and kisses you with passionate desire. your hands begin to undress him without realizing it, honey-tanned skin glistens in the dark, your eyes absorb his soft, smooth chest as you run your fingers and he tries to calm his breathing, starting to undress you too.

his eyes shoot quickly to yours as you watch him gasp for air and then you realize how much lighting is in the room, exposing the cardinals in different tones beginning to heal.

you gulp, hands scrambling to put your shirt back on. “do you... do you want to turn off-”

at the time he says, tone of voice tinged with menace. “was it him?”

your gaze avoids his when you deny it, but he makes you look at him. you see him relax when he sees you so tense, thoughts running at high speed, “shouldn't you have told me?”

“hmm?” he insists when you mumble under your breath.

“i tried…”

you see the colors fade from his face and emotions crowd his eyes. “did you want me to take care of the bruises?”

“i wanted you to kiss them away.”

“i can do that.” he comes closer, and you sense the moment he presses a kiss in a touch-sensitive place. and then another. kiss after kiss, after kiss, meeting your lips in the middle, fingertips erasing someone else's. “no one will touch you, my sweet angel. no one will. i'll keep you safe. d'you want me to save you?”

you nod under his gaze.

haechan lays you on his bed. it's comfortable, fluffy and cold at the same time. he makes it warm and cozy for you. he spreads kisses over your legs and thighs, stomach and ribs. you must have one or two bruises there because your body is shaking, or maybe it's his soft kisses as he makes you sprawl your legs so he can have a taste of you.

you squeeze and shudder under his mouth working miracles on you, exhausted pleasure making you moan his name as his tongue stimulates your slit, fucking you with his velvety muscle while sensing his plump lips pressing right on your clit, brushing them slightly.

haechan leaves you wetter than you were, soaking, damped and shivering when he hovers on you and kisses your neck. “i've fucked people and imagined it's you. what have you done to me, angel?” he whispers, poking his erection at your belly.

your hands go down and wrap around his circumference. haechan chokes out a gasp and his pelvis jerks towards you. he laughs breathly, “hm… fuck.” you kiss his lips parted and caress his wet slit.

he's hard as a rock, and already coated with beams of precum, has he gotten like this just by eating you? “yn…” he breathes, “yn.” he repeats your name as you work on his hard cock, stroking him up and down, mouth catching his lower lip in a kiss.

haechan growls and his eyebrows meet, a tortured expression furrowing his pretty features, agitated and blushing. his hot body on yours, erection pressing into the valley of your pussy as you masturbate him in a trance, watching his face contract with pleasure. “i want to feel you in my mouth,” you pronounce, pushing him so he can lay down.

he's so dazed he doesn't respond and instead swallows hard, head pulled back into the pillows when you straddle him and come closer to his dick.

your mouth is watering from ecstasy, putting it halfway in, and curling your tongue around his girth. haechan hisses; he tastes salty and sweet and he feels soft. you flavor his warm creamy precum from his tip, slender muscle flicking the slit, making haechan buckle his hips up. your hands are firmly in the groin as you push the rest of his length down your mouth.

“o-oh god.” his cock sits comfortably inside your oral cavity, it's thick, and you can barely get it in without not being able to puff up your cheeks. you bob your head and he calls your name eagerly, tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft. “fuck, angel.” he grunts and you delight with every sound you entice from him. pulling out his glistened cock once you need it inside you.

your eyes roll back while faint scream reverberates in your throat as the sensation expands through your extremities, and grips your pussy. haechan settles inside you and you feel stuffed to the brim, going up and down his hard cock. your vision fades to black, sensing the waves of pleasure washing you. your breathy moans and soft whines mixing with his guttural sounds. kissing his lips and grinding against him.

haechan feels so good, his girth stretching you out before you begin to rock back and forth with sharp thrusts. your eyes take in your sight blurring and darkening with desire when you see him close his eyes and gulp, hands roaming your thighs. a tingling drops in your stomach as he turns into a mess, a bunch of grunts and broken words.

you grind, and rock, and wiggle in ecstasy, causing moans that slide from his parted lips and constantly wet down his tongue.

the sensations makes you lightheaded, the rhythmically pace he force you to fuck him with his firm hands on your waist, feeling delicious. a tingling runs through you and embalms your body with a numbing sensation. cock hitting you without clemency as your vision blurs while you reveled from the way his dick stuffs you.

you move with rough and sharp thrust on his lap, dick sliding in and out, sensing your ecstasy building on your belly, vibrating each time your groin meet.

a divine sensation is unleashed in your stomach, and suddenly you are euphoric. you cannot sustain yourself properly.

you start to move with short, deep thrusts. riding him dexterously, your body contorts when you increase speed, your pussy clenches and twitches, dazed by the full way it feels, starting to rock involuntarily once you've become drunk from the way he jerks inside you. vision blurring when you watch him. your face contracts before the carousel of delight that you are sharing. observing him moan for you, closing his eyes because the feeling is so overwhelming, but opening them again because he doesn't want to lose an instant of you, drinking in your sight.

haechan doesn't leave your face. you catch him enraptured by your expressions and features, contracting with burning pleasure.

a gasp leaves your lips and your pussy clenches when he grabs you and one movement puts you underneath him. your legs spread and rest on each side of his body before haechan throws them to the side, knees together. a scream builds up in your throat when the crushing sensation heightened as he furrow his eyebrows with anguish when your walls wrap him tighter. “a-ahg fuck, you're so good.”

your head lolls back as you feel his cock hammer you relentlessly. heartlessly. fucking you with an unseemly frenzy, hearing him gasp and giggle with joy under your voice screaming his name. biting your lips when a shudder strikes you so hard, that you're nothing more than a tangle of haze and hisses.

your belly vibrates and the pace of his thrusts, his gaze fixed in the way your body crashes with his while he breathes almost artificially. “taking me so good, angel. you love how i'm making you feel? can't help but scream my name so delicious.” your hands bury in the tuft of hair and your legs wrap around his hips when he comes closer, back arching towards him when his mouth lands on your tits and you feel his tongue twirling against your hard nipple.

you feel numb and aching, crying his name when a sudden need to pee strikes you. a burning sensation spreads through your belly and groin, bringing you to the intoxicating sensation of climax destroying your body.

“fuck, s'sweet.”

a painful sharp pleasure fills you up when haechan jerks and thrust you sloppier, a wave of spasms runs through you as the destructive orgasm washes over you from head to toe just as he moans loud before he starts to throb along with your clenching.

he sobs, rocking his pelvis in and out, milking his seed into the condom. he squirms when you wrap your legs and make him bury his cock deeper, bringing him closer to you so you can kiss him.

haechan reciprocates the kiss a little dazed, his head hiding in your neck as he hugs you tightly, still inside you.

that night you dream of the black swan.

୨♡୧

your apartment is quiet. and outside, dusk falls for the gala. the door to the continuous room is wide open but no one is inside, and you remember, that today was gonna be your night, if it wasn't for wongyoung.

malicious whispers meander through, and you're on edge as you watch her in your bed, getting dressed in your clothes.

“what do you think you're doing?”

her gaze lands on you and because of the darkness you can't see her features, but you know it's her.

“i can do the black swan, but the white swan suits you perfectly, i thought that by wearing your clothes it might make me look more like you,” she talks.

you see her smile when she gets up. her shadow lengthens and projects on the wall. “how do i look?”

she makes you feel like you're in one of her illusions where it's easier to replace you; one where she is a better version of you, eager to seal all your experiences; she looks like you.

you look at her with a mixture of bewilderment and disbelief. “take off my clothes.” the uneasy feeling makes you shudder.

“why? haven't you done the same with my clothes?” she chimes. “do you think haechan will fuck me before the performance like he did with you?” she blurts out suddenly, pensive, looking at her reflection in the mirror “you're weak, and pathetic. you let them step over you.”

wongyoung turns on her axis to look at you, and you're both startled. she grins but it's your mouth that curves and then she gets closer to you, yet you're the one who moves.

“i almost had it.”

she grins, “it's my turn now…”

your faces blend when you fall to the ground, and time passes slowly because of the density of a black hole. wongyoung growls and glare at you from below, features erasing and drawing themselves under the fog in your eyes. she shines and becomes null, evolving in front of your eyes until she looks exactly like you, as you shout, “it is my turn! my turn! mine!”

her eyes gaze at you and she grins, before they close shut and her features go serene.

and just then, you remove your hands from her slim neck.

kai doesn't expect to see you that night. he curls his lips, his predatory eyes sparkle. “you're here.”

“they expect to see me, they lust for me.”

“and are you okay with that?”

“they just need the fantasy. i'll be their swan.”

୨♡୧

it's a delusion. maybe you've created him in your head, maybe he's created you in his. there is no more violent delight than to follow the path of the bead of sweat on his sun-kissed skin. his hair becomes more disheveled as he loses his composure. his eyes are like pits of black matter, looking at you through the mirror. half-open mouth with puffed, pink lips, grinning at you while he struffs you with his girth.

your hands went to the mirror in front of you, seeing your face disfigured by pleasure, with furrowed eyebrows and mouth open. the velvety feeling of haechan coming in and out of you, filling the room with your shaky breathing and the clashing sound of flesh as he hammers you. one of his arms crossing your chest while the other rubs your clit.

“fuck, angel. so pretty and ruined.” his breath warms your cheek and your eyes flutter as you feel him grab your body and move it to the nearest wall.

your hands hold on to the solid surface as you are crushed against his body, reveling when he change the pace and fuck you with sharp strokes.

your mind is wiped out clean. eyes closing tightly and teeth grinding at the crushing sensation of his dick between your gummy walls, enticing uncontrolled moans to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“hmm, too much for you, angel?”

you always want to have him inside for longer after you're done. to leave you drunk with crushing pleasure from your long sessions where he restrains you under him. watch him stare at your pussy when he's done fucking you, licking his lips as he palms his length until he's hard as rock again. finger you, eat you, nutting outside while his creamy load paints your folds and leave you dizzy.

“i can take it.” he groans and fucks you harder leaving you brainwashed with nothing more than the feeling of his cock burying deeper, making you rolled your eyes, dazzling, fuzzy.

a sharp tingling grips your inside and your pussy goes numb and aching. fire expanding all over your intimacy as haechan rocks his dick in and out, walls becoming swollen and tighter around his shaft.

a tingling embalming your body fleetingly to the release of your climax as he turns you over your axis and resumes the motion.

“it was beautiful…” you breathe against his mouth. your hands cups his pretty face and you admire what you do to him. dilated pupils and darkened gaze carried by desire. “so beautiful.” the piece. the dancing. his warm body pressed against you as you hugged each other. the euphoria you couldn't contain once you got to the dressing rooms and your bodies collided with needy hunger.

you find yourself bewitched and in a trance looking at his beautiful features. drunk eyes fixed on his lips kept parted and his eyes are flaming for you. rosy cheeks and brows furrowed with pleasure, with a mixture of adoration and burning desire. you content a moan when he comes and kisses you and his mouth taste like heaven, sinking his dick so good into you, your body contorts with fire.

your tears blur your gaze at the full sensation of his beautiful grin, so alluring and glorious, transforming his face like a fallen angel.

“hae,” you say in a dreamy sigh when he carries you and penetrates you at a slow and hard pace. looking at you with misty eyes, he moans hauntingly. “my angel, my angel.” he clenches his jaw, suffering a spasm that makes him jerk his groin, accentuating the strokes. he doesn't take his eyes off you until you see him frowned and roll his eyes alternating between fast and harder, becoming sloppier ‘til he explodes in white ropes of cum, nutting in you.

three sharp knocks echo through the dressing room door. “entry in 5!” you both stifle a gasp between kisses.

haechan slips outside of you and you behold him: sweaty and dazzling. your knees give way before you even think about it and you hear him laugh. eyes aflame with doziness and perversity watching you put his soft member in your mouth, licking his slick clean.

he hums and throws his head back, and you feel that five minutes is enough if you keep moving your tongue like that against his still growing length.

୨♡୧

you feel its presence everywhere. it has never left you, asleep and conscious. it speaks to you. it feels you. it dances for you.

“i always wanted to be the swan queen.” the reflection in the mirror doesn't do justice to her angelic beauty. your gaze searches for her behind you but she disappears.

“he promised me i'd be his swan.” her voice is just a mere whisper.

and it sounds like you.

something flickers, maybe the stolen star in her hands or white flapping wings. you're growing used to it; you've always had a space for it, whether in a room next door or inside you. it takes space, and sometimes, it takes on a life of its own.

she cries. “you stole him from me.”

it takes time for you to figure out who she's talking about. whether it's haechan or kai, the answer is the same. “don't make deals with the devil.”

she rushes at you like a fuzzy shadow, and all you hear is the same violent flapping wings, before it goes dark.

“my swan.” kai cradles your face and pinches your cheeks. his face lights up at an epiphany. “pretty, chaotic and obscure. where's my little white swan, did you kill her?” something squirms inside, yet you can get used to it.

you've latched your room. and it's impossible for kai to know that a lifeless body is inside unless he sent her himself and now he knows that if you're there it's because you got rid of the other.

but there is no body. and there's no blood. just a vast void beginning to fill up again.

“it's like i'm seeing another you.” he smiles proudly, as if it is his merit to have lured you over the precipice.

“she set me free.”

kai grins, “who?” all the girls he put against you? namjoo and kazuha? wongyoung? yourself?

the show was over, the performance was brilliant, and a tingling bathes you when wongyoung comes in your direction. “so beautiful, yn. you did so well.” she looks genuine. she doesn't look like the girl in your room.

perhaps it has always been you. “the swan.” one made and remade over the years.

your eyes catch him amongst the dark figures, wild eyes consumed with intense fixation. haechan comes at you and he looks angelic and dubious at the same time with his tousled hair and his distinctive jacket thrown over his shoulder, lips displaying a smug smile as he holds your eyes.

“ah... haechan. he's one of a kind, you see. he fucks with every partner he's ever had. maybe that's his ritual.”

“i know.” you grin. “some methods are darker than others.”

the truth is that between the four of them, they don't put together a functional neuron, and they're pretty okay with you assaulting their fridge every weekday…, so you guess you're okay with it.

“don't mind me. i ran out of eggs for a omelet, i promise to do groceries tomorrow…” your words die little by little when you find everything but eggs, “uh... why are there underwear in the fridge?”

a spoiled blond boy comes jogging up to you in a bathrobe that reveals more than is necessary. jisung giggles nervously as his hands rush to close the opening of the only piece of clothes he's got a friday night, taking the garment from your hands, “those would be mine.”

“why...?” you start asking before you think of better questions, such as how could they live in this pigsty? looking at the mini football table used as a pile of dirty laundry.

“well, it's cold outside, and i don't have a dryer, of course...” his eyes widens and sparkle as an idea runs through his mind, “can i use your hair dryer? pretty please.” you stare at his hands joined in prayer, and his eyes large and bright.

“sure…” he grins and mutters a victory while you keep thinking you’re hundred percent sure he can afford a washing machine with dryer. “so you've been washing this by hand?” you’re also sure he hasn’t thought of that one yet.

“no. i wash them in the shower,” he answers, obviously.

that'd explain why he's in a bathrobe.

a smug eyebrow shoots upwards and you hold back a silly smile. “with you?” you watch him nod and your grin falter, “why don't you use the tub? that way you can wash all of them at the same time.”

he squints, “i hadn't thought about that one. yn, you're a genius.”

his skin is cold and soft and his hair tickles your cheek when he hugs you fleetingly. “honey, i meant that you don't have to bathe with them…”

jisung ignores your words as he thanks you greenly before you can even think why no one has told him that til now… then you remember a couple of similar scenarios perpetrated by his roommates, and why it makes sense they didn't.

your eyes sweep the room, noticing that something is missing. there's jisung who finds himself in a bathrobe at ten o'clock at night, mark the illicit racer who nibbles on his nails and seems on the verge of an anxious collapse. and there's jaemin the part time bartender at your favorite café, reading the newspaper.

“where's haechan?” you ask, suddenly dead curious.

jisung glances at the living room as if he barely notices that the characteristic silly boy is missing. “oh, he's not here.”

“no way, sherlock,” mark mumbles under his breath, moving to another position on the couch.

jaemin gives him a sidelong glance causing mark to shrug unapologetically, before he closes the newspaper like an old soul and answers you, “tutoring a girl from our law class.”

you see, the irony is exquisite but the word conceals another implicit meaning of which you're aware.

but more important, it leads you to realize something deep and uncertain.

“d'you mean he's…?”

“if it's anything to do it, i think she's way out of his league,” jisung compensates, putting on the underwear underneath his robe. “i don't think he'll make it to third base.”

“i don't think he'll make it to first base,” mark replies.

despite their attempts to counter that he's probably quite sunk in a girl's throat right now, you still can't believe it. pronouncing it is not so easy to digest either.

“guys, don't be mean. he's got game!” given the honey-eyed boy's antics, you very much doubted it was true. only, until now, you hadn't noticed it.

“he's with ryunjin,” mark points out.

“yeah, he's not gonna make it,” you conclude.

of course haechan is a heartthrob. you always expect to find him in some empty classroom making out with someone, or walk into his room to find him smoking a joint. he tutors girls because marijuana and alcohol haven't been able to fry the last neurons in his brain so then he can get money for weed. to even think he also does it to have an excuse to go to their apartment and get laid makes you… uneasy.

of all things, it was a fact that haechan was partly hot and partly idiotic.

“are you okay?” jisung asks you, carefully.

you remove the palm from your forehead, almost lost, “so does this means…?” three pairs of eyes look at you bathed in different emotions expectantly just as you wet your lips to pronounce, “haechan's not gay?”

just as if he had been summoned by telepathy, the fourth member of a three-room apartment appears through the front door, and consequently, all of you hold your breath in expectation.

haechan sports his dark straight hair parted in half that forms two commas on his face. his olive skin highlights his features and makes him look very, very attractive. but of course, what he has of handsome he has of asshorse.

“gay? who's gay?” haechan sweeps his eyes over your frozen faces in complete confusion until he bursts into laughter and his cheeks take on a warm color. “see? i told you not to wear those silly clothes, jaemin.”

the boy allows him to pat his shoulders while he smiles smugly. he's also sporting his best cologne and has put on one of his fluffy jackets; and until recently you now know that he's done all of that to see a girl.

jaemin stares into the void until the sunny boy moves to another place of interest: the fridge. his eyes beams as if it contains stars waiting to find something in it, then everything goes out. even his smile fades away.

mark shifts in the chair and looks at haechan staring inside, “uh, where's my pot?” his hands rummage the few things in the fridge in search of it, almost incredulous.

“i threw it away.” four pairs of eyes go to jaemin, who remains oddly calm.

“you mean you flushed it away,” jisung corrects, holding up a finger.

haechan's face freezes into an indescribable grimace and then you realize the reason behind mark's chaotic behavior: he’s in drug abstention.

“what do you mean you flushed it away?” you wonder.

“down the toilet.” haechan makes a muffled sound.

even though you're close to him, you barely manage to decipher the low and strangled noise he makes next. “come again, darling?” you ask, rubbing his back.

his lips move closer to your ear as the others watch the scene. letting out a heavy sigh, you reluctantly say, “haechan says he won't speak to you anymore. that... you shouldn't have done that... that..., that was eighty dollars worth of weed, h-how dare you, huh?” you repeat out loud on the go.

“new house policy.”

“what does that even mean?”

“no parties on weekdays. no girls...”

“GIRLS?” jisung makes a mockery of fainting.

“in plural, you're good,” mark explains, biting his nails.

“and no weed.” until that last, haechan had handled the situation calmly, though you were beginning to believe that he was in denial.

“how did you manage to flush eighty dollars worth of weed down the toilet?” you say after haechan's whispering.

“he put in on a blender,” mark explains.

haechan's eyes fill with indignation. “you make smoothies in a blender! juices! cocktails!”

“chocolate milk,” jisung adds all of a sudden.

you witness the rift forming on both sides. the palpable tension mixing with the smell of illicit substances in the apartment.

it makes you want to do something, certainly. although you couldn't deny that despite wanting the "girl from the island" to vanish, you still found this somewhat excitingly hot. you could just intervene, make them reconcile, calm the waters; you...

you just wanted eggs for your omelet.

when the silence settled after heated words were exchanged between both parts —and jisung, you announce your farewell.

“wait, you're leaving?”

suddenly, everyone is aware that you are a little overdressed just to cook some omelets a friday night…, which you're not.

“nice skirt.” jisung's eyes form two crescents as they run down your legs before haechan hits him in the back of the head, causing the blond to murmur an apology with a laugh.

“got plans?” he’s the one who asks with wonder, eyes glued to you as you nod and send him a wink you’re sure he gets it.

“the ring.”

haechan chuckles shortly, stretching the right corner of his lip up in a haughty grimace. “how do you know about the ring, bumble bee?”

“chaeyoung introduced me to it,” you say proudly.

haechan's features soften when you smile. “does she know that you sleep with stuffed animals?”

“haechan!” your mouth opens in awe, watching others pretend they haven't listened. “they're not... they are collectibles!”

he clicks his tongue, rubbing the place you hit him. “you're not meant for the ring.”

“i am so meant for the ring.”

it was customary for students to gather at one point, isolated and confined from the city to carry out certain illicit activities. illegal races, drugs, and others were common in these meetings where their whereabouts were usually said minutes before they started.

“you're too sweet,” he replies in a remark, and your jaw almost hit the floor.

well, it was partially true that the meetings bordered on the deathly side, but you come from a small island where the only dangerous thing is to get hit by a bicycle; someone forgive you for wanting to taste a little adrenaline for the sake of your soothing young soul.

the others watch you argue heavily and somewhere in between, jisung scratches his head.

“i'm pretty sure they're talking in code,” jisung refers to the others, with narrowed eyes. “maybe some jewel or jeweler.”

jaemin pats his shoulder and comes in the second you and haechan stop murmuring at hearing what the blond just said. “well, fare you well. goodbye!”

you stop jaemin from pushing you to the exit to look at jisung with amusement. “wait, they haven't taken you?”

surprising? no.

the euphoria and danger of the moment blended together like a psychedelic cocktail. the guest list was a bit narrow and confidential, in case of informants. some students skipped the challenge of going while others were totally oblivious that things like that existed.

“to the ring?” jisung tries, opening his crescent eyes.

jaemin makes a gesture behind him to stop you from revealing anything else as haechan reaches out to him, in tenderly affection.

“you're still a baby.”

“i'm twenty three, though,” he chuckles. “wait, you guys knew about the ring?” he wonders, emphasizing the name funnily.

“yeah. maybe. no, not really...” the boys say one after the other.

“then, good news!” you say next, excited.

“she'll buy us groceries tomorrow,” jisung interrupts you, smiling smugly even though he has a fortune greater than yours.

haechan's eyes gleamed with emotion, hands grabbing yours as he puts the best performance in his galore “would you buy us some food?”

“of course, yeah. i meant another good news,” you correct, dancing your eyebrows to jisung. “the ring, tonight. there will be a lot of fun,” you mention, slowly, eyes darting to haechan in confidentiality; then he looks at you, totally oblivious.

“i'm not in the mood tonight, jaemin threw away my medicinal herbs.”

jaemin rolls his eyes, “yeah, me and jisung pass too.”

“do we?” the younger looks at him clueless.

you look at jaemin, dumbfounded. “what, why? sometimes no one gets shot.”

jaemin narrows his eyes and approaches you as if you were his new sworn enemy. “there will be drugs, baby.”

“okay, let's get going!” haechan shouts and you stifle a belated laugh.

he starts pushing you toward the door, suddenly changing his mind and looking strangely excited, just as mark has a surge of energy from the couch.

“can i come with you?”

“sure,” you downplay its importance. “everyone can come.”

“are your girlfriends coming?” jisung asks, very excited.

“they are,” you say, tapping his shoulder playfully. “so? i drive,” you ask the rest, watching mark's eyebrows come together.

the boy sweeps the room, counting the heads, and as far as you can see, his math doesn't add up. “we'd be too much for your car, wouldn't we?”

“don't you worry about it.” you and haechan share glances; although his seems a little hesitant.

forty-three minutes later, you find yourself on the dimly lit street of your residential complex. the sky is dark and devoid of moon and stars, while small snowflakes begin to levitate in the air. it is june and it has starts to snow in the city, where five friends warm up each other in the freezing night.

“i present to you: my ride.”

mists come from your lips in the cool night, and your cold-flushed fingers point at your parents' best gift that they lent you for college a week ago.

“is it... behind that ugly van?” jisung wonders, burying his hands in his jean jacket; cheeks tinted with a pink color due to the cold.

haechan hides his high-pitched laugh behind a fake cough and you roll your eyes. “that is my ride. say hello to gertrude,” you announce, unlocking the bodywork, “she's the best on the block. she has speakers, gps, lights, a sunroof, and... sliding doors!” you say, effusive. your eyes glance expectantly at the boys, sharing looks with each other. “okay, never mind. have fun walking to the party.”

“oh, my god! a van! dang!” they exclaim, voices layering on top of each other as they slowly approach the van.

“at least pretty girls are coming with us,” jisung mutters reluctantly as he enters the back seat.

“chaeyoung and liz?” you wonder through the rearview mirror. “of course! they're already there, my friend.”

you see the reaction to your words live when he slides nostalgicly into the seat until he rests his head on the backrest, just as you shout with crescent excitement, “seat belts on, kids.”

 ʚïɞ

as you make your way through the bodies in the vibrant gloom of fishing port outside of the city, haechan stands in the other corner of the party, shuffling a deck of cards in the company of several people around him.

his fingers are snappy, teeth catching his lower lip in concentration while he and mark exchange some words before the game begins and the bets start to come in. you're still amazed at his skill with his hands, passing the cards from one to the other while shuffles them that you don't realize when you bump into your friends.

“what?!” liz yells in your direction when she sees you approaching, too busy by the way, making out with her boyfriend.

“i didn't say anything!”

“oh.”

her fingers points behind you to the drink chaeyoung offers you when she arrives. “you made it!” they both start jumping around you in celebration.

“yeah. why wouldn't i?” you ask, slightly curious. the blonde and the brunette share a look that reveals a lot of the message. “oh, my god. why does everyone hate my van all of a sudden? it has taken us to our destination on numerous occasions.”

“i'm just saying you've been saving lately, you could just buy yourself a car.”

“but she's special to me!”

it was… moderately true. but you were hoping to spend your savings on something worthwhile. besides, what's wrong with it? it may be a prehistoric old lady, with dents, and worn paint, but it had been a gift from your parents... after they got a pickup truck recently.

preserving it meant holding onto that piece of home you were homesick for. every scratch, every sticker, every worn seat held a story of adventures. selling it felt like letting go of a part of yourself, a tether to your past that you weren't ready to let go.

“as long as it rolls,” liz tags your side playfully.

you toast clinking your beer with hers and drinking it in one gulp, almost choking with it when you spot something in the crowd, “oh, my god. there he is again.”

“mmm?” chaeyong says, looking everywhere, “who?” she watches you cover your face as your eyes travel to the figure of the boy on the other side of the party.

“jeno?” liz inquires unexpectedly, miraculously separating from her boyfriend.

“he's one of the racers.” chaeyoung stim.

“well, he won't stop staring at me, he's like obsessed,” you mention.

you and chaeyoung remove your sunglasses and peek a glance at the boy with his back turned having a pleasant conversation with a girl before he senses your eyes across the room and looks over his shoulder; he stares back at you with a mixture of emotions that don't convey anything pleasant.

“yeah... obsessed. not at all that he hates you,” chaeyoung mocks.

you chuckle, “i swear!”

“perhaps you should stop hooking up with guys and ghost them afterward,” she says nonchalantly as she stares at jeno longer, “or... maybe when you go on dates, avoid bringing up the dick of your friend like he's some sort of your impossible love.”

you're too stunned to speak, “what- i don't do that— first of all, haechan's not a dick. second of all, i have a bad memory, unfortunately. and i think you’re lying.”

“i’m not.”

you cross your arms, smugly and one hundred percent sure, “give me an example then.”

“the ghosting thing or the second? cause i can think of some. eric,” she pronounces, “shotaro, jaehyun, let's not forget about jaehyun. mingi...”

“okay, i got your point.” reluctantly, “but that doesn’t explain why he hates me.”

“you threw your beer on him the other day,” liz answers, taking a break from french kissing her boyfriend in a public space.

“but why i don’t remember?”

“you were wasted as fuck.”

“well, accidents happen…” you trail off.

“you took his after.”

oh.

“i'll go get us more beer,” chaeyoung laughs, giving liz an eye, “just for us,” she adds, looking away after seeing her and chenle tongue-kissing.

as chaeyoung leaves you alone to fetch drinks, you wander aimlessly through the crowd, surrounded by swirling lights. the bubbling beer encourages you to join the swaying of bodies, carried away by the euphoria and debauchery of the night that slip from your memories, like hazy reminiscences.

a guy makes his way towards you smiling like a charm, before your eyes register his face drain of color and disappear the way he came. “what the fuck?” you breathe, running your tongue through your teeth just to make sure you didn't have a piece of broccoli stuck between them. but it turns out that, to your relief, it had nothing to do with you and more of this lurking sensation behind your back only to find jeno making his way to you.

alcohol evaporates from your system with a snap of your fingers as you unconsciously remember the suspicion that he hates you from your friend, so you flee to the golden boy's shelter.

haechan's eyes fill with pure amusement when he sees you arrive laughing where he's with mark and jisung; very high. very exaggerated. “hae, you're so funny.”

“haven't said anything, gorgeous,” he chuckles in awe.

you laugh more, wiping away a tear. “may i?” you point to his lap and sit down simultaneously when he agrees.

his tongue pokes his cheek where stars form an uneven triangle as you wrap your arms around his neck, getting closer. “what?” you inquire nervously under his gaze.

he hums casually, denying.

he has a cigar tucked behind his ear that he proceeds to hold between his fingers. “fire,” he says in jisung's direction, where the boy very promptly hurries to take out the lighter.

your fingers grasp the cold object when mark lights his doobie and hands it to you, igniting the flame for him.

haechan takes the cigarette between his lips and comes closer to the fire, the hot light bathing his golden features. some strands of his hair burst into melted honey as he takes a deep puff before his hand lands on your bare back in an unmeditated gesture, blowing the smoke out into the starless sky when he leans back.

you take the opportunity to take a look around, hoping jeno is enjoying the show. nervousness and butterflies start to blossom in your gut when he's nowhere to be found just as haechan leans dangerously towards you and you're able to smell the essence of weed when his lips go to your ear. “you're moving too much, sweetheart.”

he moves away from you to scan you, and you can't figure out why you're out of breath so suddenly for the dimensioning. “are you drunk?” he asks suddenly.

“i can't sit on your lap like good buddies?” you ask, punching his arm slightly, but he's very unfazed.

“buddies,” he repeats, thinking out loud as his lips take another puff. “yeah, we're buddies. and you're basically chasing away my chances to hook up tonight.”

you roll your eyes, “should i get off...?”

“no need,” he cuts you off.

you've known haechan for as long as you can remember. he's been your firsts times of everything. he's your best friend. although sometimes it feels like something more*.* and feeling special is the same as feeling stupid, because for haechan, acting like this, means nothing.

he likes to exist in the middle of the lines.

he moves and everything suddenly glows around him, in his path. it's impossible not to stare at him. it's easy for him as well; he's good-looking, he's delicate and relaxed. he's open and kind. he lets everyone in, but no one stays.

you're a bad friend, aren't you? thinking of him romantically. doing it when you know now that he has never been interested in you in that way but now with the newfound knowledge of why; it's hard to act like before when you know he's surprisingly attracted to girls, and he's never flirted with you even though he does it the way he breathes.

“is he already jealous?”

your eyes shoot out at haechan, staring at you with suspicion and victory as he hits the nail on the head easily, referring to your intense attention to your surroundings in case you see jeno on your radar. “what- don't be silly.” you try to lighten the mood and downplay it, but it doesn't work much.

his fingers come close to your ear, and bring up a 100 bill that he surely won gambling, or betting, or solving tests for other people, as if saying 'i don't buy it, but good try' “are you using me, sweetheart?”

fighting against it it's not worth it; what is handsome about him is that he's also clever.

“maybe. can i borrow your attention from the girls for a sec?

an untamed emotion washes over his features, as you feel him fix underneath your weight, pelvis pressing fleetingly into you. the sudden perception of his crotch poking your dressed ass leaves you flustered and fuzzy; you must put all your willpower into thinking the distracted motion was just you imagining differently than it was.

but when your eyes fall on him, you see him blush.

he looks hauntingly beautiful under the influence of alcohol. the lights reflect off his tanned skin, and he glows. dark eyes that melt like chocolate when the light hits the metal chains around his neck, honeycomb hair messy revealing his forehead and his eyebrows, moving slightly.

“all yours.”

smiling back is unavoidable. he's magnetic. he makes time go slowly. he's effortlessly handsome and alluring, an untamed wild aura envelops his moves when he looks away and strips you of his attention, leaving you stranding in the dark because he has that effect on people.

he has that effect on you.

he clears his throat at one point catching your attention from the black-haired boy striking up a conversation with chaeyoung at the other end of the cargo box. your eyes go down to him as you feel him tense beneath you. “too heavy?” you want to know, stung by curiosity.

“you're perfect.” he lets out a light laugh when you tap him gently, rolling your eyes. “but if you want to get him jealous, you might have to do something more risky than just sit on a guy's lap.”

your eyes open slightly, apprehensive, “like, what?”

he grins, “lap dancing.”

you see him burst out laughing under the effects of the pot, enhancing his mirth when he senses your distress.

your cheeks and neck burn from the comment said so lightly, throwing you off. “you're a dick.” you hit him, huffing.

but after seconds go by, you think about it seriously, “maybe i should.”

haechan coughs the smoke out of his lungs, caught in surprise by your answer. you see him choking wildly before he returns back to normal. your attentive eyes look at him, prompted. has he been flushed by what you've said?

“come here.” you're drawn to him without a warning. breaths mingling in the narrow space when haechan pulls you close, really close and your hair cascades down, covering your faces as he pretends to kiss you.

he smells like a wild mixture of weed and booze. the scents fill your receptors and clutter up your thoughts, getting you drunk and lightheaded. his warm hand plays with your neck while he smiles and you are too dumbfounded to get out of the trance you’re in because only a few centimeters are missing from your mouths touching.

“so who's he?” he wants to know, completely forgetting that he's only inches away from your face.

“you don't know him,” you say, gulping. is it just you?

haechan scoffs, and his licorice rum breath hits your lips, “i'll decide that.”

you turn away from him under his contemplating eyes, resisting the urge to bite your lip; haechan's eyes drop when you evidently end up doing so, pondering. “uh... jeno?”

“jeno,” he repeats as if he's convincing himself that you've actually said that name. as if he's entranced by the way you wet your lips.

“d'you know him?”

he hums.

“is he...?” **words don't come to you. is he dangerous? should you be careful with him? suddenly you want to know his opinion on the subject. suddenly you wish he'd keep his hand on your back a little longer.

“single?” he pronounces, “i don't give a fuck about that information, sweetheart. i suggest you look elsewhere.” his words hit you like a bucket of cold water and you find yourself hindered by such a drastic change of attitude. “starting with all the girls he takes to bed in one night.” from so close, you wish he couldn't see your expression shifting under his words. his lips are heart-shaped but nothing sweet comes out of them. because even though he's being cruel, you don't want him to notice it. you don't want him to know that he's hurt you.

“i wonder if they're the same ones you take to bed.”

he scoffs, “do your do.”

you step back a little to get a better look at the attitude he's taken so suddenly. “what does that even mean, haechan?”

“i need more of this...” he completely ignores your rhetoric and gets up from the chair with you, still on his lap. the movement causes you to stumble before the grip on your back becomes harder, preventing you from falling.

haechan gently taps your chin, overlooking your features contracting into a hurt grimace. the mere notion of him not finding you attractive enough hit you like a truck. 'cause only until tonight you had taken his disinterestedness as something else.

“you think he won't hook up with me.” words gush out of you with venom, drawing his attention.

“i just don't think you'd dare.”

“i've got game,” you point out.

“all losers, by the way. c'mon, pretty. you're not meant to be a one-night stand.”

the comment comes out of him so easily that it doesn't seem to be loaded with the most corrosive toxin that destroys your insides. the feeling of betrayal takes your breath away, and the fact that he was the one who uttered those words hurts like hell. “it's not like you're the god of sex either.”

haechan's eyes turn to you. “you want proof of that?”

“sure!”

“want me to show you, sweetheart?”

“i'd love that!”

he shrugs. “then do. your. do. if you dare.”

“fine!”

“fine!”

“hi!” a hand grabs haechan by the shoulder and spins him around; a girl with long, honey-colored hair smiles openly with extreme excitement under both of your confused stares. she's visibly lightweight by the way she holds her beer and the words come out slow and elongated. “minyeon? from earlier?” she tries to make him remember her even though it doesn't work much.

“you must've mistaken me for someone else,” he says in a tactless manner.

she tilts her head, “haechan, right?” followed by a nervous silence.

sometimes you forget how easy it is for haechan to straight up lie in people's faces to get away with it just the same way he hooks up and forget it the next minute. “i'll leave you two to catch up,” you say, deciding not to see how he gets rid of that one.

 ʚïɞ

haechan finds himself freezing his butt off while watching the brunette stoner of his friend smoke. he starts considering keeping him company or just leaving him while he finds a girl (or a couple of them) to hook up with, if not for the fact that he doesn't want to do either. it irks him not to be able to label that annoying emotion he feels at this moment.

“could you stop that fucking noise?” mark wonders, annoyed.

“what noise?”

“the whining.”

“i am not whining, i'm just breathing.”

“every time you breathe a noise follows,” mark retorts, taking a long hit before the race. “you're so punchable right now.”

haechan wants to strangle him. he could be stoned out of his mind too, except that he is so sober that it makes him angry. it makes him aware.

his eyes travel to the spot he's been staring at all night, to find you talking animatedly with jeno; the snort comes out of him without him noticing it when you laugh and lean closer to the boy, and mark whines.

“he seriously can't be funnier than me,” haechan remarks. “she's clearly flirting with him.”

“wanna know my take on this matter?” mark's tired voice catches haechan's attention for a few seconds. “i think you're mad because you can't tell jeno not to date yn the same way you did with us.”

“did i ask your opinion? no, i didn't... —and i did not do that. i couldn't fucking care less who she's dating.”

mark rolls his eyes, “then stop staring at her.”

“i. can't.”

does he really care much who you date? certainly not, given the dating history you've had; it hasn't affected him at all to see you hanging out with guys instead of him. to see you saving them the seat next to you at the café you frequent all the time, wearing their clothes.

above all, he doesn't imagine you kissing them, or laughing louder at their jokes, or their hands on your body, on the curve of your waist, your full legs, back, arms, face, stomach...

“oh, my god! dude. you're so jealous.”

haechan peels his eyes off you with his irises flaming to look at mark. his neck burns and he can't sit still feeling his whole insides blazing. “jealous?” he huffs, “i'm just bugged.”

“explain again why, i didn't catch the first one.”

“because she's...”

“forget it, i don't care.” haechan is cut by mark, and to his anger, he finds it soothing. luckily, the boy doesn't pay attention to the breath haechan lets out because he finds himself looking quite carefully at a single point in the crowd, where the same girl from before seems out of place.

mark doesn't even hesitate to go to her, leaving haechan alone with his mind, soon becoming a mess as he tries to articulate what he feels, struggling to make sense of why it infuriates him so much that you're talking to jeno, that you're smiling, that you let him hold you by the waist, that you allow him to lead you to a quieter, more intimate place. while he grapples with the conclusion of why you don't do all these things with him.

because you're his best friend.

you're his.

a girl surprises him by clinging to his neck without warning, and in another moment he would play along, but now he's quite upset and doesn't even find her attractive. “not now, ryu,” he mutters without sparing a glance at her, too busy with you.

mind too occupied to be distracted by her, too occupied thinking of you.

through the natural flow of events, a couple of beers, and your mind full of a hazy sensation, you may have made hasty decisions.

“you're so hot,” jeno whispers against your lips, breathing heavily.

his lips are deft. kisses tasting like beer and cigarettes. he moves his mouth over yours with the utmost delicacy and fierceness; his hands holding your face as his tongue fiddles before clashing with yours.

“i knew it!”

his hands gently encircle your waist.

“should we move this somewhere else?”

he doesn't stop for you to answer. between kisses, you say, “your place?”

jeno detaches himself from you with an amused look, “i race in a bit,” he points out, with an airy laugh. his eyes scan the place: leaning your body against a metal box on the outskirts of the party, with the smell of the dock coming towards you. the sky is starless, and apart from you, there is not a soul around. and yet, he seeks. “where's your car?”

“m-my car?” you repeat, pulling away to look him in the eye. he hums, staring at your lips, and because of that, you utter, “this way.”

your van is parked far away from the vibrant pulse of the party. the journey seems eternal. it's quiet. jeno lets you lead the way as you hear his footsteps on the gravel behind you. you've exchanged words with him for the first time tonight, given the fact all your friends know him; everyone knows him; he's won a couple of times in races. he's popular and as far as you're aware, he keeps everything casual. no hard feelings. no commitment.

his kisses have left your own judgment in disarray, clouding your clarity, and now you begin to see the severity of your rushed decisions. you find yourself yearning for something you believe he might fulfill tonight; you're so needy for someone.

“this is it. this is my car.”

jeno stares at the van with wide-open eyes, and the motion makes his eyebrow piercing sparkle when he nods slowly, “nice ride.”

the pit in your stomach narrow, and just like that, with a puff, the fact that he said that makes it less scary. “right?!” oh, you seriously don't have survival instincts.

he nods, approaching you and pinning you against the car. the kisses deepen, growing more fervent and desperate with each passing breath. he lets you lead him as his hands grope the door.

“sliding doors?”

you visibly melt.

“aw.” you pepper kisses across his face while he lets you step inside.

you've kissed a bunch of guys. but jeno doesn't compare at all to haechan, nor to the tenderness in which your best friend first kissed you in the backseat of the van after regretting ditching you for the hottest girl in school. and while jeno reclines you against the seat, his touch tracing patterns along your sides, sending shivers down your spine, and fingers dancing across your skin, your mind involuntarily drifts back to the past, replaying the memory of his lips upon yours in an endless loop.

and thinking about him makes you hesitate. and you hate him for it. you hate that you can't decipher the reason behind how he treats you when no one's watching, how you steal glances at each other while the other pretends not to notice, why he looks at you longer than the rest? why do you want his lips to be kissing you and not jeno's? why do you want to replace the hands that travel under your skirt with a pair of known hands full of rings?

why, among all things, did you expect him to be your first time with a guy, 'cause then you'd know he'd be romantic, and sweet, caring, and gentle, and the way you always dreamed?

you hate him because you can't even spend 30 min without him out of your mind. it is so much devastating that even when you don't think about him, you think about him.

and it's quite unfair to jeno that you're weighing on him while he's kissing you. maybe you should focus. his hands. they travel to your thighs and your breath freezes in your throat. he's actually good with them. if you look closely, if you squint hard, it's almost romantic that you're going to lose your virginity in the same place you had your first kiss with haechan, right?

it's just that… you had dreamed of doing it in places that felt more familiar to you. your bedroom, with a good mattress, for example.

the belt digs into your lower back as his kisses escalates, and you think, well… fuck it.

the mere thought draws into your chest when jeno's kisses descend to your neck, and you think it would be easier to reject him like every other guy you met if he wasn't so delicate, if he wasn't kinder than the others.

the shrill sound of the sliding door opening without warning takes you by surprise. a squeal leaves your lips as you stare at the cut-out silhouette that appears in the night, slowly becoming less blurred and more like someone.

“there you are. the race is in 10.” the voice you know so well comments, leaning on the door and sticking his head inside the van.

basically, it's like seeing haechan, but his hair is darker and longer, and his tone of voice colder and fiery. donghyuck's eyes glint like elusive fireflies, a mysterious allure dancing in his gaze. he's calm, while haechan is relaxed. when he smiles, he seems to hold a thousand secrets he can whisper to you at midnight. he exists at night, while haechan exists in daylight, reminiscent of captivating sunlight.

“i'm busy,” jeno says, slowly.

“i don't care.” silence spreads in the air as you're frozen by the audacity he has to interrupt such a private moment without caring to apologize, the nonchalant way he projects while waiting for jeno to react.

the black-haired man catches your gaze, apologetically. “sorry, doll. duty calls.”

you stay straight in awe as jeno removes from you and step outside the van. the only light bulb pulling highlights from his messy blonde streaked hair, while your existence is totally ignored as they exchange some words before he begins to walk away as if the last few minutes hadn't passed, leaving you alone with donghyuck.

“well, thanks for that.” you say venomously, stepping out of the car and looking him in the eye to notice that he finds the situation amusing.

“what can he do in 10 minutes, sweetpea?”

besides that stupid nickname, your cheeks warm up from his comment. “what can you do in 10 minutes?”

“you’d be surprised.”

“not really…”

the words crowd and fade on your tongue when donghyuck comes close to you, and you can smell the musk of his cologne when he closes the back door of the van. his eyebrows come together and he gives you a suspicious look very similar to your best friend's, scanning your face, “are you drunk, by any chance?”

he watches you roll your eyes. “why?”

donghyuck shrugs with nonchalant air, “you're not oversharing.”

“i don't overshare.” you fold your arms. “and that's not what i meant. you literally chased my 10 minutes rendezvous away.”

“he's not right for you.”

you feel flushed until the feeling is replaced by the indignation gripping your chest, “because i'm not his type?”

donghyuck sweeps over your figure unashamedly after your statement as he hums thoughtfully. without being able to help it, your neck burns from the intensity of his gaze sparkling when he locks eyes with you, and you find that the reason you stare at him back is because he doesn't have haechan's moles. “you're everybody's type.”

there's a solitary star just above the corner of his mouth, burning under his cheek, tinged pink.

you're too stunned to react immediately when he walks away from you, unceremoniously. his hazy presence beginning to fade as he drifts away into the darkness, until the last second when he stops and looks over his shoulder. “you coming?” an invitation. donghyuck reaches into the pockets of his leather jacket to pull out a box of cigarettes and a lighter, the silvery object glows faintly, glimpsing a star engraved in it. he doesn't even offer you a cigarette when he lights one for himself, the smoke clearing into the long night, as he takes you back to the party without exchanging words. profile already showing a smug smirk because he somehow finding this amusing.

just as he found your bicycle accident annoyingly entertaining before treating you himself.

it was a terrible wound, you couldn't even look at it. and you were so scared of telling your parents that you didn't cry even though it hurt like a thousand hells. you like to think that only he knows about that scar, because only he has seen it. he was so good at keeping secrets, because he probably didn’t remember them.

night clears your head as you exhale deeply into the night.

“where are we going?”

the growing murmur of music beginning to keep you company with your footsteps on the gravel, him taking you to a different place than you came from. you stare at his impenetrable profile, “backstage.”

a little further away from the party in the cargo containers is a heavy cargo truck, where boys begin to take out fancy sport cars amid shouts and cheers. you watch minyeon happily talk to the boy who has stirred up your senses and walked away as if nothing had happened a couple of minutes ago, and all of a sudden you find yourself irritated because he's kissing her now. the same way he kissed you.

donghyuck takes your gesture of crossing your arms for something else, as he strips off his jacket and throws it tactlessly over your shoulders. “thanks...” you say, but tinged with another meaning. and he deciphers it when he answers; you’re not talking about the cold, but a second secret thing when he breathes, “any time.”

 ʚïɞ

some participants have moved the party to a sparsely populated café in the city downtown. you find yourself surrounded by papers strewn all over your table while your loaded coffee cup sits empty and not working in your system.

“what?!”

“liz! i still don't say anything!” you greet your friends.

“sorry! my ears' ringing! can't hear anything.” she sits at your table behind jisung. “moody,” she mumbles when jaemin comes like a busy bee with another round of coffee for everyone, gently bobbing his head.

“i'm sorry.” you take your head in your hands, “this test is killing me and i haven't had proper sleep.”

“yeah, tell me about it,” she huffs.

you two share knowing looks under jisung's confused stare.

for the past three nights, your roommate had gotten into the habit of sneak in guys in the night, and while that was fine within the community rules secretly agreed upon between you, chaeyoung and company were just too loud.

jisung takes interest in the impasse where liz and you look on together, “i haven't been able to sleep well since,” liz complains.

your mysterious friend's wanderings were none of your business until they messed with your study time.

you almost choke on coffee when you come up with an idea just as jaemin takes an unsupervised break at your table. “i can exchange rooms with you,” you propose to the boy, skipping the real details. “think about it, the air is breathable, it's tidy, it smells like roses, and- there is also a no drugs policy.”

liz sends you a look “there is? ah!” she exclaims rubbing her calve under the table and sending you a dangerous glare.

“please say yes. it'll only be for this week of exams.” the three of you watch jaemin ponder, 'til he moves to drink his coffee, and becomes aware of you. “beg your pardon?” the boy removes a pair of earphones with an attentive grimace.

“would you mind changing rooms with me?” you repeat, putting all your charisma into an attempt to sugarcoat the situation.

“sure, all yours!”

“now that you mention the room thing, i've always wondered why you don't just live with chenle and the rest of the bikers,” liz wonders, tapping her chin. “you get along well with them but you'd rather hang out with...” her eyes travel unexpectedly to the blond boy drinking his milkshake. “us,” she finishes.

liz's point interests you and jisung. “yeah... you're right...”

“rent's cheaper,” jaemin simply says, shrugging.

“but i pay the rent,” jisung quietly mentions, pointing at himself.

“exactly,” jaemin replies, making the boy laugh amused, and you can't help but stroke his hair because of a sudden overload of tenderness.

“do you want to hear my opinion on this matter?” liz says after a while. “i think she's fucking mark.”

the girl gives you a sassy look before leaning back from her chair and drinking her coffee, with the three of you staring at her in discredit.

 ʚïɞ

“you're sure you'll be okay?” mark asks you as he puts on his jacket.

there is no trace of jaemin, much less jisung. it's the weekend again and the apartment is in an eerie calm because haechan is not around. “i mean, partying is so overrated.”

“it is,” he agrees with a laugh, “it's halloween, though. are you sure you'll be alright not stealing kids' candies this year?”

you’ll be okay because the whole week has been halloween for you.

it’s been a while since you and haechan talked, although it seems like an eternity.

you were taking it as a clue to leave the subject in the past, but you couldn't, despite the attempts to convince yourself that everything was fine even when you haven't talk to him or meet him during breaks on campus, or on the way to the bathroom, even though he sleeps in the room next to yours. not a sign of him except when he arrives late at night trying to make the least noise although you can still hear the giggles of his companions every night.

you live in the same house and it seems as if walls go up every time you see each other. and he probably hasn't even noticed that you've stripped him of the thing you care the most.

the ghost of his cologne as he passes by you every night haunts you, and it was killing you slowly, whatever this indifference was.

to say that it didn't matter to you at all would be another one of your lies, but seeing that he didn't care at all began to get to you.

“i'll stay to study this time.”

you notice that mark is unsure about it but the boy ends up agreeing with a slight nod. “jisung says that you're allowed to read his comic books if you get bored, and you can use haechan's notes if you want. jaemin left a espresso for you if you start to feel sleepy, but, if you feel extra bored, you can grab one of my muffins. you don't mind taking them out of the oven once they're done, right?”

your eyebrows come together at that new dosis of information, “do you bake?”

you were ignorant that any of them knew how to bake. although in reality jaemin prepares the best coffees in the world, and jisung washes the clothes impeccably. maybe it was your fault to pigeonhole them into pretty boys with airheads.

he lets out a light laugh and winks at you, “sure thing.” before leaving you alone with your failed attempts to focus on accounting.

it doesn't take long for you to get bored of actually studying, and then you come up with the best idea of the night: you can have your own party at home.

all in the name of not doing the accounting homework, you end up picking up the place, drinking some cheap red wine and of course, attacking their freshly made fridge. when the muffins are ready, you've given up.

just because haechan doesn't want to see you shouldn't ruin your chance to attend the party tonight. yeah. that's right. all you have to do is make sure not to bump into him tonight and everything will be alright. besides, accounting is kind of overrated.

it is probably past midnight when fate works against you, and as you open the door, the two of you find yourselves staring at each other from across the threshold.

he looks surprised for a fleeting moment, as if you had interrupted his plans or his musings; you've probably had, imagining the times he's escorted girls to the apartment when you were friends, and how you never noticed it until you started showing closer attention to him; you missed the nights you didn’t knew, you missed the nights you didn’t mind.

it is probably past midnight, and his cheeks are flushed as if he had spent his entire life under the sunlight, a blush that has decided to reside on his skin since childhood. his gaze is honeyed, and his eyelashes frame his doe eyes. his hair is slightly disheveled, stuck to his forehead with sweat. his expression is soft, lost in a dream he can't quite decipher, as if everything feels light. what surprises you the most isn't that he's alone tonight, but how you're suddenly noticing all that just now.

his eyes blink slowly, “going somewhere?” only when he stumbles over his own words you understand that it’s the dizziness of alcohol.

you are caught off guard when he pulls out a beer from the frigde, given how intoxicated he already is. “i didn't expect you to arrive so early.” or alone.

“i didn't expect you to be here.”

since this is his apartment, he has every right to be bothered that you're here given the fact you two aren't speaking. “if you prefer, i can leave.”

wet, drowsy eyes stares at you. “i’d rather you stay.”

he wanders around the apartment, his steps clumsy. graceful, his movements still seem delicate and slender. in the middle, you turn your back to the door that remains open and inviting when you close it and decide to stay. you trail after him when he drifts toward the bathroom, keeping close by in case he needs you. the door is left ajar, the light hum softly against the tiles. his profile is outlined by the soft, hazy glow from the living room, gleaming his smooth, tanned skin that flushes when he grins. “are you going to just stand there, watching?”

you hadn’t expected this. him wasted, cheeks glowing, his lashes heavy as if carrying sleep itself. you’d only thought he’d be a little stoned, fuzzy and soft, giggling like a fool and blurting out scientific facts; this image strikes you as just as strange as your behavior when he takes off his shirt. “yes.” seeing the situation as funny goes beyond your critical thinking, but of course, in his alcohol-soaked brain, it probably makes sense. “i mean, i’m making sure you won’t fall cause the floor’s a little slippery.”

“i won’t,” he says automatically after.

“why drink so much that you can't think straight?”

“i’m trying not to think.” he mutters, but the thought drifts unfinished, as if there’s more he’ll never say. to you. his lips part like he might go on, but all he does is stare, clinging to you as though the reason were carved somewhere in your face. “you’re leaving?” he wants to know.

“yes.” you wanted to. you were to. now you’re not so sure.

his face tilts and you see the shadow of his eyelashes before your gaze moves upward and meets his brown eyes. “don’t go with him.” you had never noticed how your bodies used to come together without noticing it, until his warm breath hits your forehead. it takes you a moment, longer than it should, to put the pieces together. the drawn-out insistence, the urging of it all. only then do you understand. he's talking about jeno.

he’s a little drowsy and lightheaded, and his essence only clouds your senses. it intoxicates you. he’s so pretty, chrushingly so. you figured, you’ll never get drunk again and kiss strangers, crash at a party and wander aimlessly. “forget him tonight.” you’ll always gasp when he looks at you with this intense gaze, and he’ll keep staring at your lips.

“be with me.” dainty skin is exposed, and you find yourself embarrassed and aware of his muscles flexing when he lifts his hand and brush your lower lip. “i’m your best friend,” he pronounces, as if he’s just aware of it now.

but why does his hand brush your chin, why does he align his mouth with yours? why does he come toward you, as if he wants to kiss you?

you’re afraid you’ll never know. his lips never touch yours. instead, his hair tickles your face as he moves away from you toward the toilet, and you see him, still wrapped in a dream, as he throws up.

 ʚïɞ

there's a charm about a gemini boy. something captivating. so hard to pin down; but of course there are many things that make haechan unique, such as his evocative charisma or the fact that with him, the sun never sets. and even though you can't do anything to not feel a jumble in your stomach at the sight of him, that's not what makes an uneasy feeling settle in your chest, but the girl on his legs, kissing his neck.

he doesn't seem affected at all by your friendship, and reveals enough to realize that his confession have only been him being drunk and playing around. playing you.

his eyes meet yours amidst the sea of faces and suddenly you think of how unfair it is that he gets to do all of those things without getting attached because if it were you…, if you were on his legs, and you were inches away from his face. if you could be able to trace his moles with your finger before kissing him, there would be no return for you from that point.

and all this time you didn't have to worry about that because your safe place was being his best friend and for a long time, you had lived in denial about this side of him that had been hidden from you. sensations accompanies you when you make your way out. the floor shakes under your feet and something weird spread on your guts; you feel a little unwell.

the sedative effect on your body hesitates and helplessly your insides feel empty accompanied by nothing but the moon. and the heartstring, it's all mixed up inside of you; it turns you into an mess. up until this point, you hadn't realized how much it affected you to look at him that way. somehow, you had managed to ignore it, but now it takes space, and it grows and makes you sick of it.

the feelings are everywhere. and when the murmur of the night brings with it a beautiful boy unaware of your presence, you're doomed. he gently exhales smoke that travels moonward, velvety brown eyes lingering until they find you.

“hi,” you greet.

his eyes glow fleetingly amused, the corner of his lips pulled to the side in a half-smile identical to your best friend's. but chaotic. untamed. hasty. “mind if i join?” you shake your head watching him sit next to you on the step.

you contemplate him, smoking. in silence.

something feels wrong when you can't look at him without revoking haechan. sometimes it's unfair because everything reminds you of him. your mind always playing tricks, desperately searching for haechan in any face you meet. “i’m afraid your brother doesn’t want to be my friend anymore,” you confess, eerily.

“everybody knows that, sweetpea.” his laughter takes you by surprise, it is light and soft, like a sigh.

your countenance is moved, “why?”

“no one wants to be your friend, yn,” he quietly answers.

donghyuck abruptly turns to you when he hears you sobbing. dark orbs watching you warily until you catch the soothing, sober scent of his perfume when he reaches you to comfort you. “shhh...” his attentive eyes follow your movements, hands gently stroking your sides. “what's wrong? what is it?”

lee donghyuck is an enigma, of course. he sees any challenge as something to beat. he has secrets who has secrets. mysterious, yet alluring. even before and even now, he has never let you in, and that's probably why he's a distant star for you. a lonely, and untethered sun.

when you were younger, you overheard him say that you were a crybaby to haechan… you probably were… you probably are.

there's a word in korea: inyeon. providence. but also fate. the whole reason why you're bound to see him as an impossible love, is because you believe that your life is meant to intertwine with haechan's. but in a deeper level, maybe in another past life, the heartstring lead you to donghyuck.

he's stolen your sighs for as long as you can remember, but it's like reaching the moon with your bare hands, unattainable. because haechan was always there; in your heart, he takes all the space. and now all of that explodes in your chest and you can't keep it inside.

he’s looking at you, apprehensive and you’re out of game. “i think the wine was expired,” you cry out holding your head, and unexpectedly, he laughs in a sigh.

“are you gonna throw up?” you take a few seconds to do a checkup, “i don't think so.” because all you find is this vast void, a wandering thought that leaves you second guessing. “i…”

“yes, sweetpea?” he inquires, apprehensive.

he looks so much like him, but at the same time, if you look at him for a long time, you don't fear losing yourself in his eyes, you don't think about having his heart.

“i've never seen you and haechan in one place at the same time,” you think —for your discontent, out loud.

he hums, thoughtfully. “let's not buy that wine again, okay?”

you nod, “i should go.”

you get up from the road and watch the moment when his eyes travel fleetingly and stop at a hidden point on your leg, and your breath freezes, 'cause you think he can somehow see something you try so hard to cover but he knows exactly where it is. “d'you want me to drive you home?” he gets up and immediately hovers over you but you already made up your mind.

“i'll be fine.”

you make your way back between bodies dancing in tune to some raucous music that turns out it's your favorite song. finding yourself in a whirlwind of lights and sounds while everything feels enhanced. it makes you dizzy, especially a pair of hands landing on your bare waist, and the way they pin you against a buff chest and fingers grip your skin, controlling your body.

'cause it feels like they're holding a secret confession.

the front door is on the other side of the crowd, and every passes you light and dazzily, and all your nerves disorder when he brings his mouth close to your ear. “leaving so soon?” when was the last time you talked without the other being drunk? you wouldn't know.

haechan wears charms on his hair and some strands of his messy short hair now dyed a lighter brown. “are you still mad at me?” he asks and as something spontaneous, everything takes a back seat.

could you? could you? could you?

he blooms in light when you shake your head. “you're my best friend.” you're welcomed into his chest with his arm wrapped around you.

he feels like home. steady. he’s all honey and softness. seduction and temptation. “sorry i called you a douchebag.”

“no worr… you didn't call me douchebag.” he giggles shortly.

“yeah, i did. secretly.”

he draws you back to him. “okay, i forgive you.”

the gentle rocking of his body soothes the ache. suddenly you don't feel so bad anymore. you feel less disoriented. your mind is cluttered by the addictive scent of his cologne and the small gesture he has of combing your hair.

“yo!” haechan looks over his shoulder at a mark appearing among the people with a silly grin that can only means he's baked. if that is not sufficient judgment for a given conclusion, the side cap he sports is. “i thought you wouldn't come. oh, and thanks for taking care of the muffins the other day. jaemin would’ve kill us if we ever set the apartment on fire again.”

“yeah, about the muffins…” you'd completely forgotten about them, which is hard to do when your stomach has been rumbling all the way you're partying. “i was kinda of hungry so i may or may not have taken one,” you say, biting your thumb foolishly in a chuckle.

both of them make a lousy sound that doesn't lead to anything good. “what?” you ask looking at both boys sharing a glance.

“it may… or may not have cannabis in it.” haechan mimics your accent funnily as if that would counteract the stomach churning that overwhelms you.

a hole opens up in your stomach that makes the floor wobble under your feet. “what?”

“don't panic,” he says when your palm holds your head spinning.

“did i just use drugs?!”

“i said don't panic,” he repeats staticly with a whiny voice.

“haechan,” you shout.

“what? it wasn't mine! right, mark?” haechan defends himself by showing his palms while looking for his friend, but the dark-haired boy has vanished from his side. “mark?”

“oh, god.” you feel faint as your whole inside collapses and lengthens and narrows and spins and everything. “my parents are gonna kill me.”

“well, they aren't around, are they?” he soothes with a boyish smile that makes you feel less dizzy.

“no, they are not...” you weigh.

haechan catches you gazing at him, a soft smile playing on his lips as he traces the contours of your face with his eyes; he has blonde highlights and small charms. “how do you feel?” his voice comes soft; you'd never noticed how soft it is unlike when he talks to others.

apart from the effect of the wine, it's right that you feel lighter. more smiling. and it would also explain why you were crying a little while ago. and why you were so confused about haechan and you. shit, it was all because you were under the influence of cheap wine and drugs. and drugs!

haechan sees you weird and strangely pretty as you laugh and laugh. “so nice.” especially when you're overwhelmed by the desire to hold him close because you know it's because you're high.

you both snort with amusement, nervously chuckling as you start to blink slowly, unable to stop looking at him. “can i have more of that?”

“do i look like a dealer? no,” he states curtly, changing his mood fast. his face gets so close to yours that it's a little overwhelming, as he states, “don't even think about it. forget it, pretty. this is a one-time thing.” he folds his arms in front of his chest, reluctantly.

“what if i buy you some?”

“this is a two-time thing, and it's over,” he declares. “but swear you won't try anything else from anybody. only with me.” a dense sensation washes over you when he utters those words. akin to belonging.

haechan's drowsy eyes don't leave yours until you nod. he smiles with pleasure, thumb lightly brushing your cheek, “okay. let's get you home.”

 ʚïɞ

at least a dozen pairs of static black shiny eyes stare back at you when you're done with your work.

“i missed you guys, so much.” you say, fixing a red tie around a fluffy neck. “especially you, mr. buttons.” the brown bear seems to have a smile on his face because of the loose seams around his mouth. the clothes are a little bit faded and his shirt is missing…, and he's probably a hundred years old and ugly and threadbare, but he's still special to you.

living for a week in the apartment across the hallway could be considered a way to lose one's mind. there was no denying the fact that they were still men and that they would probably laugh at you for life at the mere hint that you slept with stuffed animals. you wanted them to still think you were hot and unreachable.

“do you also tuck them to sleep?” haechan's voice takes you by surprise and red-handed. you're not fast enough to cover the row of stuffed animals with the sheets and climb on them as if nothing had happened, because the way he leans against the door frame looks like he's been there for a while. “at least tell me you cover their eyes when you bring guys here. mr. buttons has no reason to see that his mother does naughty things with…”

“shut up!” you cover your mouth with both hands and give him a murderous look. “didn't they teach you to knock in summer camp for fools? leave!”

haechan lets out a laugh and to your distaste it's contagious. “should i take this with me, then?” his long fingers go to reach something in his back pocket that you intuit is weed. the sun-kissed boy grin pleased when you go to him and drag him inside before closing the door.

you lie on the side of the bed closer to the window and your knee softly collides with haechan's thigh. his face is bathed from the moon slipping through the curtains, and his eyes shine like wild berries. “so, good news is that my plug’s being investigated by the police, so he's not selling a lot lately.”

you watch him nod regretfully under your static gaze. “hae, isn't it supposed to be bad news?” you ask him a little confused and worried.

“oh, i thought it'd be for you because you're always doing the right thing.”

you're too stunned to speak. “i don't…-” you stop when he gives you an honest glance, “okay, what's the bad news, then?”

“mark borrowed me some of his.” you bite your lips, excited, and he just brush them with his fingers,“but,” he adds suddenly, “it's only enough for one cigarette, so we'll have to share.”

you nod, thoughtfully. it wouldn't have been so weird if you hadn't had those weird feelings from cannabis a week ago. you could say that you had acclimatized and that everything was back to normal, but that would be lying. but you and haechan have kissed before, it shouldn't be that weird; it shouldn't affect you at all now. “fine by me.”

“since it's your first time we'll smoke a joint,” he says looking at you while his hands work on it already. his eyes cast a glance at you when he feels you a little lost, “blunts are made with tobacco paper. hits harder than a joint,” he explains.

and before you can stop it, you're talking.

“i've tried tobacco before actually... hmm, my father used to have a collection of them. i stole one but i think it was expired because...” haechan's eyebrows raise with every word you say that ends up throwing you off. “what?” you stare at him, thinking he definitely sees you as a good lame girl and not interesting or alluring or pretty like the girls he likes.

“have you noticed that you yap a lot?” he says as a smile wells up on his lips.

“i don't! i was trying to make a point… with my daring adventures...”

you shut up when you see him put the cigar to his lips and light it. the opposite tip lights up red when he pushes the tinderbox away. his head pulls back and exposes his neck to blow air upwards and not towards you.

it's so mesmerizing, so hypnotic that he catches you gazing at his plump lips and his cheeks tint with a rosy color. “you'll want to leave it in your lungs for a bit before expelling it. it's like holding your breath. don't make a pause because that way you'd choke. look at it as if you are taking a deep breath and expelling the air after a few seconds,” he instructs, passing you the small joint. “yeah?”

you feel yourself nod.

your fingers take the rolled-up paper, analyzing it. it's so perfectly done, you think your friend definitely has a gift. you bring it to your lips as if holding your breath under his enraptured gaze.

his brown eyes suddenly feel intense as he studies you. “try to... mhm... just like that. good job.” he smiles proudly when he sees that you don't cough on your first puff. “we can always do it with a hookah, or edibles.” he recites, watching you take another one. “tell me if you like it,” he says while absentmindedly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear when it gets in the way. “i thought you didn't like the whole smoking thing.” you shake your head.

you don't, but he looks breathtaking tonight and you can't let him go when he belongs here. with you.

the smoke travels into your lungs and you soon find the process like a piece of cake, smiling to your insides when you finally master the tactic. “in that case, i could pass you the smoke.”

haechan comes to your aid as you begin to spit your lungs into the blanket. “yes. maybe we should try that. this is very hard for me,” you complain, passing him the cigar.

he makes it dance on his skillful fingers from shuffling cards so much, and it might have been the shadows of your dimly lit room to see a smile hidden in his mouth. “c’mere,” he says, taking an inhale of the joint. haechan lets you get close to him. hands going to hold your face while his sealed lips keep the smoke inside until you're face to face and your lips go to each other's.

you've kissed before. you remember that you kissed him before, in the back seat of your parent's van. you've touched his lips, you felt them against yours, but why does it feel like it's the first time? his mouth part open presses against yours while he passes you the smoke, and your tongue soaks in the taste of his lips. a vast sensation explodes within you, so intoxicating you're spellbound and dazed, that you find yourself breathless when he pulls away from you.

haechan looks at you, differently. the narcotic mixes with your wistful blood and turns you into a mess while his drowsy smoky eyes drifts to your lips, and you find out they're part open. your eyes feel glassy. your head buzzes. all your insides tingle. is it because of the pot or maybe because you're looking directly at him and he hasn't stop looking at you?

“did i do it wrong?” you wonder, worriedly, because what if you did it wrong, what if you blurred the lines? “shouldn't i have done that?” you ask again, watching him getting close to hold your face, as if he could sense how bad you're feeling and wanted to comfort you.

your common sense has been spoiled. and until now you hadn't noticed that there's always been something in space a wavering thought that keeps the other second-guessing. “maybe we should…” you start saying, trying to cover your disappointment by thinking for a moment that it wasn't all in your head, or in your heart, just seconds before he breathes your name like he was holding it dearly for a long time.

herbal tones and lingering boozy sweet tint explode on your tongue when he kisses you again. haechan's hands slide down to trap you to him as your fingers bury in his soft hair, leaving you with a haunting desire to feel his mouth over and over again. a sensation so wild, so vast, that takes over, deepening the kiss and sensing the trace of marijuana on his breath, getting high on it.

it takes your breath away as you separate from him, both of you breathing heavily. haechan tilts his head towards you and you see his intentions to kiss you again, but you remind him of the cigarette still burning in his fingers. you see him take a deep hit, and this time it's you who draws him to you and kisses him intensely.

haechan takes you by the chin exerting slight pressure to open your mouth before his lips wrap around yours and slowly begins to pass you the smoke. the moment feels smooth, seductive. kissing you with neat experience, awakening all your nerve endings as he bites, and teases and sucks your lips, skillfully.

the volatile feeling numb your senses due to the euphoria rushing through his lips colliding with yours over and over. deep and warm, his hands leave your face as you feel loftier and draw him closer to you, sliding his fingers until they tighten around your waist, pulling you alluringly to him so both of you get up from the bed as he holds your neck.

you grind against him, tasting the herbal tones of the weed on his breath, mouth not taking long to open when you run out of air, soon invaded by his tongue. you find yourself enraptured, giving in to him slowing from the way his mouth moves over yours. mind floating from his expert touch, trained by having done it on previous occasions with other girls. and that he'll surely do once he's done here with you.

“what?” he asks when you break the kiss without warning because your mouth tingles for him.

“i feel dizzy...”

haechan comes to you and strokes your sides, “it happens the first time. everything is enhanced.”

“seems like too much,” you confess. sensations, thoughts, the world, your feelings. there are too many to bear.

“i got you.” it was killing you, and it was better to stop thinking about it if you wanted to stay naive and ignorant of this.

you're surprised he's already looking at you when you look at him. he's sweet, and gentle. you stay still while he studies your face for discomfort, and you can't do anything to stop yourself from kissing him again; and to your surprise, he leans closer.

“yn, have you seen my new lingerie?!”

your eyes widen in terror and without thinking twice, you push haechan away from you. a high-pitched sound escapes him before falling touchlessly to the floor where the bed hides his body, right on time when liz appears in her underwear on your door.

both of you look at each other, and your heart threatens to jump out of your chest with all your emotions running high from drugs and haechan. “the sky blue lingerie with a bow on the front and laced panties?” you ask in a rush. “haven't.” she squints and you gulp hard.

“why are you so nervous?” she questions. “that's the behavior of someone who lies.” her eyes flash dangerously, “or someone who hides something.”

you freeze and your muscles stiffen as she moves into the room and past you. before you can react, she open your underwear drawer and exclaim, “aha!” taking out the damn lingerie.

the girl looks at you with discredit and victory while holding her lingerie up but you're more aware of the boy rubbing his head behind her while he looks at the scenario amusingly. and you're there, alternating your gaze and caught, vilely, ‘cause you thought she wouldn't notice.

“you thought i wouldn't notice, did you?” she clicks her tongue and walks to the door, smiling witfully before she stops suddenly. “by the way, did you hear that thump just now?”

“no.”

she weighs, “do you think it's chae again? see? i thought it had been clear not to bring boys anymore. if she sneaks boys again then it's right for you to bring guys and for me to bring chenle, but we haven't, ‘cause that'd be disrespectful.” you nod and she rolls her eyes, “there'll be a serious conversation, me and her, i swear to you that if...” liz closes the door behind her and her voice begins to fade away as she walks away from your room and allows you to breathe again.

you feel haechan's intense presence behind you but you're not able to face him after still feeling his burning kiss on your lips. your mind feels light, and you can't think properly. all your thoughts for him seem right to you but you know that they're not. because it's haechan, who likes untethered relationships, even when you feel close to him.

it takes you a few seconds to gather the strength to turn around and watch him rummaging curiously through your drawer.

“remind me not to mess with liz ever.”

your mouth opens in disbelief before shortening the distance between you by two strides. “stay away from my panties, pervert!”

 ʚïɞ

back when you were younger, it was so easy to see through the mist, through him, that you didn't have to ask. on thanksgiving, you think you’re dying.

your head spins and you're back in, missing nights like this.

a shared living room wrecked with laughter, a crowded kitchen smelling like something’s burning because mark forgot to take out the homemade pizza. the typical sneering of jaemin when someone mess up the ingredients. the dining room table with university papers forgotten because the night of study became something else.

you miss your friends. you miss them even when there's clearly something wrong with them. “oh! you've made it!” liz greets the third time you two encounter in the kitchen, cupping your face with marvel.

“liz, this is our apartment.”

“oh.”

“have you seen haechan?” after a few drinks and giving the matter a lot of thought, you decide to ask because you haven't seen him for a couple of days.

“not at all!” she says, nodding and drinking from her martini. “but i saw donghyuck a while ago. i’ll send him your regards.” thinking about haechan turning down the opportunity to do illegal things wasn't an everyday occurrence…, except during exam week, but since it’s christmas break and you hadn't seen him for three ring parties, you had started to worry.

seeing lucid dreams of him had been a recent occurrence, and having to see his brother everywhere even more so. even though you could pretend for just a second that it was him, it only made his absence feel more acute; because it didn't evoke the same feeling in you. you didn't feel a sense of belonging.

that is, until the hallucinations deceive your eyes so much that he appears there, on the roof of your apartment. on a cold night, his eyes are lost in the starless sky, and yours are lost in him. “you’ll catch a cold.”

it's freezing, and his cheeks and lips don’t take long to dye pink. his eyes are two wild berries, opaque under his disheveled hair of dark brown locs; in the cold night, he’s not wearing a jacket, as if it had been lost for a while.

“i’m actually playing hide and seek with jisung.” and there’s your heart, as thin as a promise. you were never going to fall in love with him, but life has a way of proving you wrong, and it's seeing his smile light up his face.

“how’s that going?”

“i think he forgot.”

“let’s go back inside.” he moves closer, and flickering lights bathes his features to realize that it’s not haechan. beholding him, donghyuck is handsome as hell and honey, but your heart sinks a little, because he doesn’t give you a taste of sun.

on closer inspection, his eyes have never seemed so soft to you as they do now. from the way he knows just as simple, that you’re drunk.

but it’s not alcohol, is it? it’s your heart. he takes you in his arms and it’s unfair. all you can think about is how unfair it is to look for traces of haechan in his features and find none.

the slight sway of his steps as he descends the stairs has your mind fuzzy. dowsily, your head rest on his shoulder. “thanks for finding me.”

“of course, sweetpea.” he smells of sunsets and bonfires. oud scent that disperses until you no longer sense it, because all you can perceive is a powdery fragrance hanging in the air, along with coffee and musk.

the smell of haechan, making you fuzzy.

you’re dragged back into the trenches of empty wine bottles and michael jackson vinyl records before you can object.

haechan's room displays for your eyes and every time you're trying to keep it all in. jackets and lighters on a nightstand, some candle you gave him for christmas. cozy blanket thrown over a chair and a pile of books and papers on a desk.

it’s quieter than your room, and cozier. your eyelids slowly close.

“did you mean it?” a yawn breaks in, “that no one wants to be my friend?”

you think that donghyuck gently rejecting you a while ago is no longer the reason why you don't fall in love with him.

but this time, he doesn’t.

“forget that i said it.”

“i can’t.”

is it true that his eyes contain stars, or you just want to feel warm? light, but different, it’s still just light.

you see him take a moment, perhaps you have begun to doze off; seconds that become infinite, your eyes struggle to keep looking at him.“perhaps i could’ve been your friend.”

“that would imply liking me…”

your eyes have closed completely, and lost in the mist, you can barely hear him laugh. “yes.” pieces of the puzzle reveal the truth to you when he is already gone: you would’ve love to be his friend. because you would know how sweet he would be mid morning, you would know, for example, his favorite color or whether he prefers tea or coffee or neither. what he does after class and where he goes when it's midnight.

you would know, by instance, everything you know about haechan when you don’t even try to remember. but you do anyway.

dreaming, you were only dreaming when you heard donghyuck come back, but in your dreams, he's the one at the door. he has put on a tie that lies loose around his neck. he has unkempt hair and may be over-drunk like the night you almost kissed.

it seems like he's had a lot of thanksgiving night, you wonder where he's been? where has he been all this time? “do you think he likes me?”

you don't know what's real and what's not. donghyuck stays at the door, but then haechan kneeled besides you.

you carry the weight of having been in love with your best friend your whole life, because everything sings. and you knew why. he’s alluring and everything he does carry a kind of beauty you didn’t know it was possible. and before that, because he made you laugh. he’s a know-it all, and you still like him. and before even that, because he feels like waves crashing at the shore; because he feels like home.

you figured that everyone would fall in love with him, because you did.

“who?” he smiles, and it gives you the kind of warmth you’d expect from haechan.

“your brother?”

“of course he does,” he says, and even though he's lying, you find him sweet. “…do you…?”

yes, it has take you a while to figure it out, but now it slips through the cracks of your mind, like honey… like sunbeams.

“yes.”

 ʚïɞ

it might as well be that his brain is scrambled and smoking has enhanced his attention deficit, because while mark and jisung are arguing about something he can barely understand, his gaze always ends up on the other side of the room…

but that doesn’t make any sense, because he’s been stoned before but never felt like this.

“so, did you confess your feelings to her?” haechan comes to his senses to find mark wearing a cowboy hat and jisung’s shirt all wrinkled. if he weren't stoned out of his mind, he probably would have mocked about it, but he's too busy, feeling exposed.

besides, his appearance wasn’t great either. the tie around his neck is loose, but he finds himself out of air, and slightly embarrassed with whatever ache he’s experiencing. if anyone was to be mocked for their appearance, it would probably be him, if his emotions were proportional to his looks.

he hasn't had a moment's rest since that day, and he hasn't been able to think about anything else but your big eyes following his before falling on his lips, burning for kissing you before he gathered the courage to do it. and his mind hasn't been quiet since then, and no matter how intoxicated he can get, nothing could make him stop thinking about you.

has he ever been sober enough to do anything?

running away from you wasn’t the best way to cope, but you should give him that, other way he wouldn’t have find you in his room that night. because the truth was that he probably would have confessed a secret while you were sleeping.

mark wraps his arm around jisung when he finally come to terms with his feelings, just to find out mark’s wasn’t even talking to him in the first place. “so you haven’t?” he asks jisung.

he was close.

“what if she likes someone else?” jisung complains.

he thinks, he’ll be alright.

he has pretended to be his brother before, but never quite becoming him. and spent his whole life knowing that you were in love, he just hoped it was him.

“yeah, right.”

a chuckle escapes him at the thought of you choosing someone else over him. and yet, your confession had only made his feelings worse. if it was donghyuck you wanted, he was sure he would be fine.

he has already spent his whole life touching your lips and imagining kissing them.

 ʚïɞ

you fear that you have self-sabotaged. three weeks have passed since that fateful day. two nights replaying the kiss over and over again on your mind. keeping your thoughts off it by studying hadn't worked, and through long days and sleepless nights you could no longer blame icarus anymore for flying right into the sun. not when your mind torments you with a pair of plump lips, soft mouth moving against yours, teasingly roaming. the intoxicating sensation of his tongue impregnated with marijuana.

“keep the change,” you say to the guy at the bar handing you a beer.

before you go looking for the sunny boy, you hear him shout behind your back, “hey! you're one dollar short!”

and you know it, because a: you are an accountant.

and b: inflation is a myth.

you stagger all over the party looking for haechan, a somewhat difficult task when you're a little drunk and you see the doppelganger making out with a girl on the dance floor. you can barely recognize donghyuck let alone the girl he kisses, but it seems that they are quite close because of the way the moon boy lets her run her hands all over him. and you can't help but watch.

he looks as if he wants to say something before being interrupted by needy lips, and between kisses, he finally gives in and you come to realize.

you need to be put away in a psych ward, because ever since, your only longing is to taste his lips again.

your eyes are anchored to both of them as you tell yourself that you should look for haechan, but something feels off. especially when you hear the hum of engines and your own heart, slowing down while bodies cut at high speed on a race in the distance. and it’s not the first or last time you’ll get it all wrong, when he looks apologetic, and you look like a fool, watching him being kissed.

you feel the stupid oppression in your chest when you recognize haechan, and now it's so obvious that it’s him that you feel ridiculous for thinking that he wouldn't be inside another girl's throat as soon as he could. “that motherfucker.”

while haechan's there dancing with her, you end up across the room doing the same thing with a stranger, failing so bad of keeping your eyes from going to him and his attempts of proving something you're aware of.

you fell first. and you fell harder.

the cigarette between his skinny and graceful fingers it's about to end when he smokes the last of it and finally glances at you, not being able to notice that you've been out of the game the moment he made you believed that your kiss meant something.

you're on edge, getting away from the hustle and heading to the dumpster after the race. it relieves you to find it empty, with everyone enjoying themselves at the party. because that way, there is no one to see you cry.

but he always finds you.

he arrives holding a match that he lights up as he proceeds to take the cigarette from his ear.“you owe me a blunt.”

“i'm not in the mood right now…” you start saying, wanting him to keep his distance because you know that if he gets any closer, and you can see his chocolate eyes acknowledging you, you'll probably forget what he’s been doing, starting all over again.

“you seemed pretty in the mood dancing with that douchebag,” he sneers, nonchalant.

and you know deep down it’s just a pretense. he was looking at you too, after all.

“what's your problem?” you shout at him, feeling like you don’t know him. you know him, deeply. he never mean to be cruel, but that was only because you weren’t on the other end ‘til now; you had never been the object of his rejection, because you’d never had your heart broken before. but it hurts anyway, that is your best friend, who ends up doing so.

“you’re my problem.” you fear you’ll love him forever. but you fear most that you won’t like him anymore. “ i didn't ask to be this hot, yn.”

“did you ask to be this idiotic?”

he thinks, “not that i remember, no.”

“then go back to her,” you wave at him, but he just come closer.

“god, yn, you can’t be fucking serious right now.” the notice comes as a stunner. you see him with wide eyes making a frustrated face; his eyebrows draw together and his gaze becomes ravenous, as if a hundred thoughts and emotions are coming at him faster than he can cope. “stop messing with me.”

the question seems so charged, that you’re not able to come with a quick answer, “i didn't ask you to follow me.”

“no, you didn't. you also didn't want me to leave you alone with jeno, and then you were eating his nose.”

“so it's okay if you do it but god forbid if i kiss someone.” you ask, cornered.

“because kissing doesn't mean anything to me,” he dares to excuse himself, thinking it will make you feel better, but in reality, after that night you two kissed, it doesn't.

you roll your eyes, “you're unbelievable.”

“really, me? for the past weeks i’ve been losing my mind, and it’s all your fault. ” the breathless anticipation makes your heartbeat wild. and the seconds —where everything becomes thicker, the confession still suspended in the air, causes something to shift in his gaze.

when he approaches, you're unable to move away. his eyes catch you, and you can't look anywhere else, because you want to gaze at him. “what do you wanna know huh? d'you want to know if i kissed her? i did. i kissed her to know if i could like her. and i couldn't.”

your mouth feels pasty, your limbs barely respond. haechan's eyes look at you and your stomach become a mess of bugs that don't let you think. all you want to say is why did you kiss me? why did you make it seem special? why does it seem like bugs turned into butterflies because they know first what you don't?

you look at him with pure disbelief, and he's so aggravated that you think you need to let him vent whatever it is that's troubling him “if i hit on you you reject me, and if i don’t you get mad at me.”

“how’s that my fault?!”

“because you make it impossible and i can’t do it anymore. i’m tired of the movie nights, the way you walk into my room without knocking or leave your things all over the place like you live there. waking me up to crawl into my bed at 4 am because you had a nightmare, or asking me to zip up your dress for a date with some other guy and knowing i don’t get to have a chance.”

he lets out a jagged breath, and his eyes darkened the moment you feel your lips dry. “well i didn’t know i was annoying, and i’m sorry my life has been an inconvenience to you. i guess i’m also tired of guessing WHY MY FRIEND SUDDENLY HATES BEING AROUND ME!”

“because you’ve ruined everything!”

“how did i ruin everything?! you’re the one who’s been acting weird.”

he’s perplexed, “because of you.”

“what is that supposed to mean?” you fire back.

“i don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

the words hit you like a physical force. you feel the air leave your lungs, a sharp sting behind your eyes as the friendship you’ve built your life around starts to crumble in real-time. it comes and goes in echoes. you blink. you blink again and he just stays the same; flushed, breathless…, and overwhelmingly troubled.

“is that so?” maybe you've lost yourself these last few days. but he’s right; him, looking troubled, has ruined this life of a showgirl for you. “anything else you want to pin on me?”

“actually, yes! you turned my plug in to the police, didn’t you?”

“why would i do that? you can't even go through withdrawal without crying.”

“to make me suffer more.”

“more?” distraught, he breathes heavily, and it is like watching a work of art in distress. “how am i making you suffer? you’re the one who doesn’t want to be my friend anymore…”

he is destructive, and keeps you from thinking straight. consuming, he steps closer and clouds your thoughts. “i want you.” he says, and kisses you.

his expert movements steal your breath and clutter your senses. his taste is so addictive that you find yourself opening your lips to catch his, soft and plump, welcoming you. ever since you and he kissed in your room, the only thing you had done was to be haunted by his mouth over yours. but when he looks like he’s under a spell while kissing you, and he urges you to caress him, you know you were not the only one yearning for this.

you feel his fingers around yours, guiding them to his neck where everything falls silent behind him, everything except your thoughts. everything but your emotions. you’re afraid you’ve loved him since the day you first kissed.

he grins against your lips, and you've never stopped to think about how much it affects you to see him like that. how much it turns you on. he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, until your mouth fits his perfectly as you catch his lower lip. he lets out a whimsical sound. his hands keep you closer to his body and you lose track of everything around you, wanting to melt in this moment, in his arms.

you feel your whole being crumble and buzz with intensity. haechan tastes your lips and your mouth opens to his commands. you melt into his embrace, warm and welcome, you can almost feel it crackle.

you’re burning.

“do you smell that?” you ask, and haechan keeps kissing you as he shakes his head.

he separates from you reluctantly and shines like a blazing sun. his warm and drunken eyes blink slowly, before you take into consideration that haechan usually doesn't dazzle you like this. he isn’t usually covered in a halo that highlights his locks and turns them into honey. only in your dreams.

the cargo burst into flames, turning his hair golden for a second before it detonates in an explosion.

you sense his astonishment even without seeing him.

the blazing cargo illuminates your faces covered in horror, taking him a few seconds to react, “there was nobody inside, right?”

“nobody.”

“what about the cars?”

you think through. “i think i don't like this game anymore. shall we play another one?”

“hit and run?” he suggests, still disoriented when you grab his hand.

“sounds good.” and run away with him before someone find out you were there.

 ʚïɞ

you knew exactly what to do, but in a much more real sense you had no idea what to do.

you and haechan only had one day to think about it, and you? you had one night to stop being a virgin.

i mean…

his body press you against the wall when he guides you to his bedroom, dimly lights from the city coming through the drawn curtains. haechan fills you with soft touches, callous hands roaming your waist and back, prompting you towards him. and during all of this, he doesn’t stop kissing you. he feels cozy, adjusting the pace he moves, slow alnd calm over your lips. full, soft mouth colliding with yours when his tongue twirl just as he deepens the kiss.

“wanna smoke?”

his mesmerizing movements take you a kind of memory, and you can't wait when he lights the cigarette and inhales the smoke to bring him closer to you and smash your mouth with his.

you’re out of breath by nothing but his presence, looming over your body. he lifts your shirt and your stomach flutter violenty just as he leaves your lips to take another puff before pressing his mouth on yours again.

the smoke enters your system and rises to your already drunken head. your breaths intermingle in the middle while your whole inside burns and falls apart, and suddenly you're not able to be in your own skin, burning when he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you.

“haechan, i never had sex.” the words come out of you in a whisper, feeling your neck burn with the gravity of a thousand suns when haechan looks at you, eyes tinted with intense perplexity.

this is humiliating.

and humbling.

and so character development arch.

“say something.”

you bite your lips when it crosses your mind that you've entered a dangerous territory, but you're too intoxicated to find your way out. “you’ve never had sex.”

his voice is merely a low murmur against your lips, and while your eyes try to search for his, they stay lowered, fixed on your mouth when you pronounce. “technically, touching yourself doesn't count,” you try to mend your confession, making him see you're not completely unaware of desire and needs, yet you soon discover it wasn’t the best choice.

you dare to look at him to find his eyes like two cesspools staring at you, “you've touched yourself?”

“yes, genius. are you gonna repeat everything i say?” you roll your eyes, bugged. and perhaps timid.

your breath freezes in your throat when haechan holds your chin so you look at him straight in the eyes and get lost. he's so handsome, you're sure you could kiss him until it hurts.

“what about mingi? shotaro?” he mentions, and in each of them you shake your head. “jeno?”

“no,” you hush.

“why?”

“your brother kind of ruined the moment. anyway, it's not like i don't want to lose it, it just... things happen when i try. i'm seriously believing that i have a curse…, oh! oh, my god. remember my cousin? the one from the island? well, she's into esotericism, and once we fought because i stole her boyfriend or whatever, and she told me that i was going to pay for it, well, look, virgin at twenty-four. ”

you see his moles despite the dim light. his pupils consume his iris as he looks at you with an indescribable smirk burning his rosy lips.

your hands cover your face, escaping his gaze, “oversharing much?” you ask in a muffled sound, as you let him uncover your face.

“it’s alright, never keeping quiet has its upsides.”

“like what?”

“you always end up making a sound…”

when he leans over, your hands grab his face. your fingertips burn on his soft cheeks, keeping him close. his lips collide with yours over and over, until it turns into deep, honeyed kisses.

rising in intensity, your interior turns into melted delight.

his breath hits your face and your mouth tingles for more. “but i'm a little hurt you didn't asked me.”

you were certain that you'd end up marrying each other. he's your best friend after all…

oh, my god.

you can't believe it took you five years and a terrible first kiss with him to come to the conclusion that a couple of puffs in his apartment tonight had made him get to it.

“i… thought you were gay.” you blame the narcotics in your bloodstream, and most of all, you blame him for looking so charming and breathtaking, agitated by having kissed him so much and with swollen lips as proof of this.

“i'm not gay,” he states, frowning and grimacing funny. “hello?” his gaze falls downward, and your eyes follow them to admire the prominent bulge in his pants.

you flatter the view under haechan's prideful smug, and your cheeks… they just turn warmer.

“do you…?”

“oh, yes. about that,” he chuckles, guilty. “i hope it doesn't bother you that i've already lost it.”

“right…” you trail off at the provision of unsolicited information and he looks at you as if words are written on your face.

“oh! you meant if i had condoms on?” he goes back in track to your true intentions, reaching his back pocket, but you’re just a little curious on the side plot.

“was it our english teacher?”

“how did you know?” he asks, amazed.

“a hunch.”

that whore…

he gives you a cool look, “don’t be jealous. i’ve slept with plenty of women but i have reformed myself for you,” he declares, drawing you closer.

he can’t be fucking serious…

you consider killing him, just as someone opens the door.

“there you are.” jaemin appears in the doorway with his silhouette cut by the light of the room, forming somber shadows on his face.

“shit, you do have a curse.”

“something’s weird here.” he squints at both of you, still embraced, in the dark, and yet what catches his attention is the smell hanging in the air. “are there drugs here?”

“wha- no. never,” you assure.

“if they are… you better give them to me,” haechan mocks under jaemin's relentless gaze, so he soon drops the act. “it's a joke! now if you mind, i was teaching yn why she can't print more money to fight inflation, so…” he attempts to close the door but jaemin puts his foot on the way.

that’s when you notice. the presence of the other members, getting comfortable in the living room.

jaemin separates from you when the door rings, and when donghyuck and jeno join the impromptu meeting, you and haechan look at each other.

you're fucked.

they know.

 ʚïɞ

truth was, they didn't know.

but all you could do for now was pretend long faces in surprise when the others told that the truck had exploded, and that all the vehicles but two weren't safeguarded in the cargo truck.

“who smokes near a leak?” liz asks, with her arms crossed while she tries to lift everyone's spirits.

“right?” haechan says, bluffing.

his brother next to him gives him a look just as you tag along, “and we cannot involve the police in this. it's illegal racing, after all. what a shame, really.”

chaeyoung weighs your words, just as jisung enters the room looking a little excited in contrast to the gloomy vibe. “i got the cctv!”

in his hands he holds a videotape that he soon pretends to put on the tv. “sorry, what?” you pronounce with difficulty, shooting your eyes to haechan.

“evidence,” he chants with the most obvious tone. that little engineer demon.

the only thing that gives you some peace and keeps you from going into extreme panic and vomiting and crying, is that at least haechan will be on your side when it happens.

“yn! you're there, look!” said guy points at the screen, and makes all eyes fall on you.

“that doesn't mean anything. she doesn't even smoke,” donghyuck says, looking closely as haechan appears in the image.

you feel lowkey rare to see yourself committing a crime when everyone is also witnessing you and haechan kissing.

“wait… is that you, donghyuck?” liz squints at the screen, followed by haechan.

“it kinda looks like him, yeah.”

“haechan.” you call his name, tired of seeing him try to save his own skin.

in response, the sunny boy smiles guiltily before going to your side. “i had to try. sorry you don't have a twin sister. in another life, perhaps,” he says, scrunching his nose at you.

silence settles when the guilty already have a face… two faces. faces of not knowing what to do now that they had been discovered.

“at least we're glad nothing happened to you,” chaeyoung says, going to you and stroking your sides. “accidents happen.”

“what about the cars, doll?” jeno asks to chaeyoung, looking calmly bored.

“i'm pretty sure you'll figure,” she says, using one of her fake smiles.

you wish you could take that and take it for granted. go home and leave it in the past, but as the sentimental that you are, you can't. and haechan sees it coming way before you open your mouth.

he mouthes a clear denial just as you say, “we'll pay for the cars!”

“what— we?” he says, intoning the latter.

“i'm really sorry… i-…” well, it was easier to pretend that it was your fault when no one knew. now their good graces was suffocating, and as you share looks with everyone in the room, and come to realize what a bad person you were going to do, you have no choice but to drag someone with you, because you will continue to be one. “he made me do it!”

 ʚïɞ

“this is a bad idea.”

“you're kidding? this is the best idea ever!” he strokes your sides as if that’s gonna make you feel any better…

it does.

he leans on the van. from his rosy mouth comes steam that disperses through the street with a single bulb. his nose and cheeks have taken on a warm hue that reaches his brown eyes, gazing at the stars before prompting both of you to the threshold of the door.

“so this is the place you know?”

“yes. he's a friend of mine, i'm sure he'll accept.”

you weren’t so sure how he was gonna do that, but given haechan’s antics, he always get what he wants, so…

“no.”

the man who opens the door for you has tattoos covering the length of his arms, which he crosses over his broad chest. he’s wearing a tank top and has a cigarette behind his ear, along with another one between his lips. written on his collarbone is what is probably his name, unless... he likes the name johnny.

“what do you mean no?” haechan looks at the man and his mouth can't help but open a little in awe.

“dude, our plug's being investigated, we can't risk it.”

“that's literally why i brought her,” haechan says, obviously. “have you seen her ride? c'mon my jonh doe, the police won't bother to check an old nanny's van. no offense.”

he seems like he's going to say no, emphatically. “shit, i don't know man. i have to check with the boss.”

“please, don't bring the boss into this,” haechan pleas with a sigh.

the two men come and go on with their nonsense until you grow tired, “i'll talk to the boss myself!” your state makes both of them quiet.

while the tall boy nods, surprised, haechan looks at you with open eyes. “sweetheart, leave these matters to me.”

“i mean, what's the fuss? bring me the man!” you wave your hand to dispatch the man in search of the boss while your gaze reviews his possible appearance. if that stereotype of beauty and muscle was his lackey, you could only imagine the man behind the scenes.

haechan holds on to your arm as if you've just made the worst blunder of your life, and you probably had. you were raised by christians on an island that was too peaceful for your taste. like the kind of island where the only accidents involve bicycles, or where the worst act of vandalism is skipping school to go swimming. you were pretty surprised by the low number of teenage pregnancies while you were growing up, as if the education there was quite good once you moved to the sin city. you mean, it never occurred to you to do drugs, if you think about it. you've never considered it.

and now you’re thinking of selling it?

haechan's eagerness had begun to creep up on you when you finally heard a throat clearing. in front of you, a twink boy wore a gold chain that probably weighed down his neck. “you're… the man?”

“call me renjun. and let's talk about business.”

as events unfold, you and haechan keep an eye on johnny loading your van with a single big bag, although you're more interested in the flexing of his muscles to realize late that this is what it is about.

“it only bought us one bag? can’t imagine why people go broke for drugs,” you mutter, caughting renjun’s attention.

“that’s just a quarter of what you’ve bought. here comes the rest,” he replies without looking at you. instead, he stares at the line of guys bringing bag after bag to your van.

you see how your car is smuggled to the brim without a word on the matter, because in the end, it was your idea. “so, that will buy us two sport cars,” haechan inquires.

“define sport cars,” renjun replies, giving him a look, “herbie’s a sport car.”

you both look at each other blankly when neither seems to remember the model of the car. “the one you mentioned, is it good?”

“i don't know about cars, sweetheart. you said to give you the expensiest. all i know is that 10 grands by direct line and without commission can make 70 grands if you sell it all.” you and haechan look at each other at that statement.

“you're very good at finance.”

“i don't know about finance. i know about drugs.”

“yes, but think that you're selling sport cars by import and you must pay taxes and so on. it's the same calculation.”

renjun looks at you before turning to haechan, “good luck selling coke with heidi's grandma.” before walking back inside the house.

you're a little taken aback by his comment, and when you hit the road with 10 pounds of drugs, realization finally strikes you. “d'you think he was talking about gertrude?” haechan takes his eyes off the rearview mirror to give you an amused look.

“i sincerely doubt it, honey,” he ends up mumbling.

you had left the compound a while ago and taken the highway, but the sunny boy kept looking back every few seconds, clearly feeling persecuted. you, on the other hand, were more than thrilled. “oh, my god, relax! it's not like i'm going over the speed limit.” you roll your eyes, watching him lean back in his seat.

“5 years for consumption and possession, and 5 to 2 life sentences for sale. with a first-time offender reduction to 2 to 5 years, or 1 life sentence,” haechan recites, as if saying it out loud could somehow calm him down.

he looks a little unwell, so you stroke his knee. “we’re like bonnie and clyde,” you add, with endearment.

you hope you weren't forcing him to do this with you. you admit that most of the problems you had growing up together were caused by you, and he simply followed your lead.

“can i be clyde?” he quietly asks.

it's hard to believe that he's not the biggest bad influence among you.

maybe there were other ways to get money, like a 9 to 5 or something like that, but the truth was that extreme situations required extreme measures.

the thing about parties is that you never know where the next one will be. it could be on a duck, or in some old factory. it could also be, on the apartment next door.

after driving around in the van a couple of times, the message from the ring lights up the cell phone screen like a eureka moment. the boy’s apartment, where else can you sell drugs if not in a place where drugs are not allowed?

you squint when you enter the dark alley of your residency complex, “d’you forget your glasses?” haechan wonders before you hum a ‘no’.

“is that…?” looking closely, haechan leans on the board while you watch a blond man looking over his shoulder as he quickens his pace, “look! jisung.” you slow down the van a little until you are alongside him, but before you can roll down the window and announce yourself, the boy looks toward the vehicle.

the peculiar action makes him alert enough to open his eyes, startled.

“nah, not again,” you hear him mutter before sprinting off, seconds before he could see you or the look of surprise on your face.

you slowly turn toward haechan, both of you looking stunned. you were unaware that after lessons on personal safety, he’d heed your advice.

“they grow so fast…”

“you taught him well,” haechan assures after, looking fatherly.

 ʚïɞ

it seemed that being guilty was something one could see and feel because why are you both standing in the doorway, like two outcasts, feeling the weight of your actions finally yielding to the gravity of your crimes?

mark stops in his tracks to give you a judgmental glance while taking a sip from a full bottle of johnny walker. “whatever you're up to, keep me out of it.”

haechan comes out of his shell. shrugs his shoulders and smugly teases, “did you hear that, pretty? no weed for mark.”

to a certain extent, you find the reaction it provokes in the poor boy amusing. and even more so when you part ways with them, leaving them in the midst of an argument which, seen from afar, looks almost comical.

as you get deeper and deeper into the party, your apprehensions begin to grow. if your past self could see you right now, she would be mortified. but a part of you, the boring girl who grew up on jeju, who had her first kiss at eighteen in the backseat of gertrude with his best friend, who has not lost her virginity yet, she was honestly starting to annoy you.

how could you do this? it's not like there's a manual to sell drugs. should you just… apapproach people? which people?

“hey.”

“hi!” okay, it's as if you're putting a lot of effort into getting caught. maybe you should act more laid back. “i mean, hey.”

liz and chenle approach you as if they were joined at the waist. “have you seen jisung? i want to make sure he arrived safely.”

“why you baby him so much?” chenle asks, raising an eyebrow and sporting a smirk.

your eyes open in surprise, “i don't!” then your cheeks light up and you giggle coquettishly, “okay, i do. i can't help but feel maternal since i kinda dated his older brother,” you mention with a funny face, tapping the boy in the shoulder to lighten up the mood.

oh, yes, mingi. great hookup, the little you know about law you learned from the lessons he gave you between kisses.

unfortunately, he really liked teaching.

“you dated my older brother?”

when jisung appears behind you with his features bathed in confusion you think you're having a mini heart attack while the others react with a drawn-out “oh”.

that is, until you remember your last resort of persuasion. “jisung, how many times do we have to tell you not to listen to private conversation?”

he looks so surprised that is quite charming. “you're right sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, his cheeks flushed.

maybe you are a bit of a chatterbox, but can you be blamed? when looking for a viable alternative to improve your mood, you end up having a couple of piña coladas in the company of chaeyoung. “the placebo effect of piña coladas is crazy, don't you think? ” you ask her as she leans against the wall next to you. “it really feels like it has alcohol in it.”

“because it does.”

“no, it doesn’t, fool…” you grimace in incredulity before your gaze travels toward the dark-haired man coming in your direction, and even though you have kissed him before, you kinda feel keen. you also feel that he’s haunting you because of the car you burned the other night by accident.

“d’you think he’s still mad at me?”

“i don’t think so, no. but… hard to say, though,” chaeyoung chants. “good luck.”she says before she runs away from you.

jeno and all his male energy push you against the wall, like a negative gravitational field. and you find yourself stuttering like the first time. “look, about your car…”

“about the car…” you both interrupt each other, and when he grins amusing, you find it fanciful, but not in a playful way; more of a chilling nervousy.

you notice a bruise that you decide to look past and fear for your life.

“i was thinking, maybe you can pay me in other ways.” his chiseled features contrast with his crescent eyes when he smiles sideways.

“please don’t burn my van.”

his laughter sounds sharp like a knife, but that is until it reaches his eyes, shinning. then it sounds appealingly comfortable to you.

“i mean a date.”

“oh.”

oh.

it feels like all your teenage dreams are slowly coming true somehow, and you don't know if you like it or not. as if you can't help saying yes, and you hate yourself for it because most of your rendezvous have started and ended like this. with you, figuring out you’ll never get drunk and kiss strangers again, crash at a party and wander aimlessly. you’ll end up always, looking for a taste of sun.

forever wondering if he feels the same, if you would dare to go out with him knowing how much he hates commitment. if you could be selfish, for the last time, and have him now.

you giggle, “excuse me for a second.” before you leave jeno as if going to a commercial break, running away, or maybe just running, to him.

amidst the hustle you think seeing him everywhere, going towards him only to watch him walking away.

square back and shoulder blades move under his shirt when he runs his fingers through his chocolate-colored hair. the lights outlines his profile every time he looks back, as if he knew you would follow him wherever he went. and you’re overwhelmed by the idea that you probably would, even when he’s so far away and yet so close from you to have his laughter reaching your ears.

but he's not who you're expecting.

it amazes you how they can be the alike and yet not resemble each other at all. he, who looks back over his shoulder. he, with his smokey eyes and dangerous smile. long, dark hair styled downward with strands falling over hisforehead. sounding identical but with a different undertone. silver-colored. lunar.

“sweetpea.” normally you're the one who does all the talking for both of you, but since that night, you've been avoiding him in the same way you will avoid jaemin tonight.

you know how much of a bad influence donghyuck is. more so, he races illegally and you bet he evades taxes just like his brother gets stoned —completely unforeseen if you ask, giving the fact that haechan is a nerdy cool who deceives appearances. anyway, he was the one doing all that kind of illicit things like battery when you were teenagers; you start to think that the summer camp he went to as a kid was actually a juvenile detention.

from as far back as you can remember, you have always wanted to win his attention. but mostly, you've always been afraid of the idea of been willing to wait for him forever rather than having him just now.

and that the unconscious reason is because you are out of his league. you’re sorry for staring for too long, for finding comfort in his features even if it is fleeting. you regret always reminisce haechan every time you look at him like this.

“hyuck, your face.” because of the colored lights cascading down his features, the bruises on his cheek and lip had barely gone unnoticed, but given how close he was and looking at him more intently, they seemed freshly made. moreover, they matched jeno’s.

“it’s not that bad,” he replies, “did you get into trouble again?” the tone of his voice sounds strangely playful, because nothing escapes him, not even you.

donghyuck —who surely had worse injuries, used to treat your wounds over his. his looked painful compared to your scrapes when you wanted to ride a bike; you were 7 years old and haechan used to mocked you for not knowing how to.

he always had a way of distracting you away from his problems. maybe it was also your fault for letting it happened.

“can you keep a secret?” there was no way he’d tell you how he got into a fight, because you’ve tried before, so you decide to let it slide… mostly because you were in fact, in trouble.

your hand reaches into your pocket under his gaze, slowly beginning to show signs of delight.

“d’you have a gun?”

you see him raise his hands in defense, and when he smirks, he doesn't look like haechan at all. he just looks like donghyuck.

“no— why would i have a gun?” **

if it's not for pointing at your own head for doing ilicit stuff.

“i just assumed it… drugs are less likely since you informed on haechan’s dealer.”

your face, surely an edvard munch’s work of art. “wha—no i didn’t!”

how on earth did he find out about that?

“so you do have drugs. what if jaemin finds out? better, what if the police show up and you have a pound of narcotics on you?” he smiles when he talks, but gradually stops doing so.

“shh!—”

shame and common sense are the things you lack the most and sometimes you forget that you shouldn't show them off too much.

“sweetpea, please tell me this isn’t your way to buy the cars…”

“because it’s clever?” you ask, shrugging.

he pokes your chin with his thumb. “it’s stupid. i wonder what haechan did to convince you to do this,” he says, before seeing the reality bathing his features in realization, because he didn’t.

“well, if you put it like that…”

if you put it like that, it was stupid.

and little by little, you recall how bonnie and clyde concluded their journey.

“oh, my god. what am i going to do?”

little by little, realization hits you like a truck and now you see the consequences of your actions.

“hey, sweetpea,” donghyuck sighs heavily, and you notice the hint of mockery, causing you to stare at him the moment a tender smile blooms on his lips. “leave it to me.” his gaze disappears into the crowd and you feel like you're losing him too, just for a few seconds, almost for eternity. “meet me later.”

“where?”

“pick a place. i’ll find out.”

when you see him leave, you are left with a strange feeling that something is missing.

what were you about to do?

oh yes, confess your feelings to haechan.

 ʚïɞ

looking among the faces, among the sea of people, you find him dancing. and as so many times before and so many times since, the searching feels endless, so far away and yet so close at times. you never knew how to appreciate when you could count his eyelashes without getting nervous, because it never happened. there’s no version of you that is not in love with him. and because life is too short, and the police could arrive at any moment and arrest you, you don't want to waste any more of it. the wait, the wait seems endless.

mark is beside him, kissing his puffy cheek despite his complaints, even though he seems to like it because he blushes; his coy friend must be high as a kite because not in a million years would he ever say “i love you.” at the top of his lungs.

you must be high too, you guess, throwing yourself without a parachute, falling in his arms.

his lips, your lips, meet with magnetism. he tastes like cherry and vanilla soda. crushingly so, he makes havoc on you. and the sounds he makes only makes you a fool, full of him.

he finds himself laughing against your mouth and it taste like sunbeams. with your mouth over his, and him over you, his firm grip gives you butterflies. receptively, you end up cornered in the bathroom sink.

full, pouty lips collide against yours, so smooth yet charged. your fingers dig into his hair and haechan stifles a intimate sigh in your mouth. brushing slowly, he hums and send shivers down your spine.

“yn, why do you have drugs in your bra?”

how his hand ended up there without you noticing?

“oh, i figured that if jaemin ever catches us, he's not going to look there,” you whisper against his lips between kisses.

you hoped not, at least.

the small package falls to the floor when he removes his hands, and you both look at it before haechan breaks the kiss to pick it up. dazed by the sound of his lips separating from yours, you watch him furrow his eyebrows.

“… did they put cocaine in us?” haechan accuses, and it takes you a while to shake his dazzling effect on you, to grab the small plastic bag he hands you.

“shouldn't they?” you ask, fearful.

“well, that's a more serious issue than getting caught selling marijuana.”

“how serious?”

he makes a face that just makes you nervous, but when he looks at you all concerned, he doesn't say anything at all…, because someone comes into the bathroom.

someone like jaemin.

“why are you, suddenly, in the most unexpected places, alone, lately?”

he crosses his arms, accusingly, and that's probably what makes you squeeze the plastic bag a little too hard and end up with a burst of dust on your shirt. “shit.”

haechan's back is wide enough for you to hide behind and away from jaemin's attentive gaze, but that doesn't do much when it looks like a coke bomb has exploded on you. and even when you do your best to hide it, sensing his heavy presence behind your back makes you feel persecuted.

as far as you are concerned, the boy is a sweetheart, he even looks like a war machine of affection. that doesn't take away from the fact that he takes out half a head of the sunny boy, and that he's strong enough so that haechan can't stand up to him.

and while haechan desperately tries to stop the boy from looking at you and get him out of the bathroom, this irrational fear of jaemin only makes you do the first thing that comes to mind, the most conventional way to get rid of this kind of evidence: by inhaling it.

this is why your parents tell you ‘say no to drugs.’ by the way.

a cough assaults you non-stop as you feel your nose burning, and haechan turns around with wide, dazed eyes to see you losing your mind. “what did you do?” he murmurs, drawing you towards him to comfort you, but all you can feel is your senses moving away from your body, and your soul suspended in limbo.

a burning sensation rises from your nose to your brain, where arson explodes. you drift off for a few seconds, and everything goes dark. their voices and the conversation they’re having get distorted before everything comes back to you all at once, like an adrenaline rush.

“is she alright?” jaemin tries to look at you but haechan blocks his view.

“of course she is. she just exceeded the fun limit…”

the two of them stare at each other for what seems like an forever, seeing who will give in first in the staring contest that you want to join, because you're sure you would win; you can't even feel your eyes anymore.

“keep her out of the piñas coladas,” jaemin suggests letting the boy in front of you breathe a sigh of relief when he looks like he’ll leave you alone. but ultimately, he turns around in the doorway and haechan flinches. “nice lipstick, yn,” he says, glancing at the dark-haired man before finally leaving.

leaning against the door, haechan runs a hand through his hair before recalling one of the minor issues in his repertoire of problems. “how are you feeling? talk to me.” he seems on the verge of collapse despite the fact that it was you who inhaled a good amount of strong drug to save your skin from a reprieve, which, seeing it with new eyes, it was never that serious.

“i feel good.” a laughter assails you under his gaze, checking on you. “i could run a marathon right now, actually.”

“you've never run a marathon before.”

oh, but you could.

even though you've started sweating from the fright, you feel hyperactive as usual, your heart has probably skipped two or three beats, and you seem short of breath. you feel great. those are just the usual effects of having him so close. “i’m lowkey waiting for the drug to take effect,” you announce, hazy.

the electricity that runs through you is because he looks eternally handsome. so domestic and comforting. his soft and chiseled features looks so angelic under certain lights that you feel your heavy gaze starting to melt. it feels like staring directly at the sun. “i think they've already started…” because of the hot bathroom air, his cheeks and lips have been dyed wine, but it's your lipstick on his lips that brings you to kiss him again.

his bedroom eyes consumed by his pupils stare attentively at you. and if you think about it, he's alright.

haechan laughs, “thanks.”

when you kiss him, it seems that a thousand butterflies have hatched in your stomach and you only feel their violent fluttering. it had never felt so much as it does now. so unbearable. you're breathless when his tongue brushes your lower lip, and the flavors of cocaine dusting your mouth makes him sigh.

even though your lips are on his, moving in sync, soaking breaths and sighing, it's not enough. you can't stop the avalanche of longing that assails you. when you taste his mouth, your heart pumps love that drains through your veins, and covers your entire body. you want him with you. you want him now.

“sleep with me.”

he clings to your body and presses a kiss on your forehead, “yes.”

as your heart beats slowly and the air begins to feel thin, you find yourself waiting. from your first kiss to your first love, it has always been him. you hope he knows; every piece of your life is touched by him. he’s the meassure of all the things that has happened to you and it makes you afraid to think that you're alone in this because you weren't any of his first times.

you see his back and shoulders, his highlighted hair, his profile looking back to see if you're still there, to see if you're still following him, as if holding hands isn't enough and he needs to make sure.

you're on edge, feeling his fingers around yours as he guides you out of the party and everything falls silent behind him, everything except your thoughts. everything but your emotions.

intimate, he guides you to his room, and when the door closes, your fingers are still intertwined, even when you’re alone and there’s no people you could possibly get lost with. his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you toward him. in the dark, you are laid down on the comfortable surface of his bed.

his voice just makes you want to follow him, to the edge. “are you sure you’re not having a stroke?”

his scent lingers a little longer; it’s all over his room, along with your thoughts. you’re heavily intoxicated, and still, all you can think about is him. him. him. your mouth tingles, your mind hasn't been quiet since then. this is the greed they spoke of in the bible.

you shake your head, unable to talk, because if you do, you fear that all you can say is his name. and then he would know, and you would be lost forever.

wet and dreamy eyes, honey lips. you’re sunburned. because it looks like he already knows. you're afraid that you're just stuck being the friend who gets kissed from time to time. you're afraid of becoming the one he uses when there's no one else around.

above all, you're lowkey afraid it doesn't sound so bad.

“oh, they’re kicking now.” you grab your head with no critical thinking, and he chuckles, getting up. you see him roaming around the room, opening his closet and searching under the bed, but in the end, he doesn't seem to find the pot he's probably looking for.

“i’ll be right back.” he avoids your gaze ans you are thankful that the gloom prevents him from seeing you or your features.

“you’re leaving?” you ask —when it’s so obvious, stopping him at the door.

haechan hums, “i’ll go grab something.”

words hang on your tongue, yet your mind repeats them over and over, as if mocking you.

you think you’re losing your mind, which is fine, because you’ve sold your soul already to a gang.

time thickens and so your thoughts. and your feelings, all scattered in the room slowly come back to you.

when he gets back, you think you've given the matter a few good turns.

“now, before we start i want you to promise that you won’t print your way out of this cause—” his features are tinged with surprise when you grab him and pull him toward you. lips forming an ‘o’ before he comes toward you and presses his mouth against yours. he’s cold, fingers leaving a wake of chill when they touch your waist to pull you closer.

a low sound escapes him when you pull him close to you. it only takes a moment to pass for a star to explode and be consumed, only an instant when the same thing happens to you. your mind is cluttered by the way he reacts of you kissing him.

his hands cradle your face, and after long seconds that dissolve between breaths, the cold isn't so bad anymore. your head spins and you're back in your childhood home, chasing someone. when he kisses you more intently, he slips through your fingers. but his mouth leave a trace on your neck, and for a moment it feels as if you’ve finally achieved it.

you’re moonburned.

your fingers run through his hair, your lips collide with his mouth, and he breathes just as he guides your hands to touch him again. and you are caressing his cheeks, and pulling him closer to you, fighting the strange feeling he’ll escape away.

pressing you against the desk, he helps you lean over it. your legs wrap around his waist, your hands pull him closer to you, and he simply lets you guide him between your tighs, consuming your senses. exposed skin being caressed, his lips travel down to your neck when you freeze.

he’s touching your scar and staring at you with glassy eyes when you pulled apart, and see.

because he’s the one who’s been your first kiss all this time.

the room turns into a black hole, filled with heavy breathing, and the horrible reason why he has avoided the bed. looking at each other, with mouth bruised and swoony eyes, failing miserably at looking away once you've seen it.

“you’re not him.”

you search his face for answers and find none of the cunning you might accuse him of. no triumph, no calculation, and slowly, the truth settles in. he didn’t kiss you to deceive you. he kissed you because he believed you were kissing him.

you take in his face, all the beauty he only wears in fragments. same eyes, same mouth. he is alluring, but he’s not beautiful. without the way warmth blooms in you, the heart knows immediately who it is not.

avoiding thinking that for a split second, you wouldn’t notice if he hadn't touched your scar.

moving up and down with the rise and fall of his chest, you suddenly notice how close his body is to yours, and you feel him pressing against you. “does it matter if i’m not him?” he breathes, holding your eyes the most terrible way.

because it matters now.

it hadn’t been haechan who found you that night, he didn’t regretted it and came back to you. he didn’t find you in the car, donghyuck did, in the same way as now. and you hadn't noticed because you were crying your eyes out.

those same honey-colored eyes, only shinier, drunk, but not with wine. it only takes a moment to realize that it's because of you.

people tend to gaze at haechan as if he was the sun, because he’s all jokes and blushing cheeks, silly scientific facts and magic tricks, but with donghyuck, people tend to gaze away, maybe because they’re afraid of the feelings he elicits, perhaps for the same reason you gasp for air, because it's something that you simply can't put into words... because you don't know them.

donghyuck, whose secrets hold secrets, and for whom you spent an entire summer convincing yourself to stop crushing over, looks at you and it's as if it reveals everything.

everything you hadn't been able to see, because you were busy falling for someone else. you'd take some time to bask in the glory, but when his mouth frown and open, your senses turn off, and you find yourself kissing him again.

he lifts you up, and a second later you're pressed against him and your legs are weak. your senses block out whatever is happening up there in your head because you're a little high. kissing him back, you feel like you could enjoy his warmed hands on your waist more if it weren't for the uneasy gnawing hole opening up in your stomach.

he kisses your mouth and there you are, once again, waiting. a change in your heart, a hunch. and yet… “you’re not haechan,” you repeat.

your heart lingers, scanning empty spaces, waiting for a sound, a knock, a miracle that might split the moment open. but nothing shifts. the air stays still. the door stays closed.

unfinished, your inyeon with haechan is perhaps wanting something so badly that you end up ruining what you already have. stuck in a loop that goes back and forth, where he drags this forever.

the only thing that keeps coming back is his lips on yours, over and over again.

time is running out, you're about to lose him forever. and yet once again, all your eyes do is land on donghyuck, looking as if he wants to say something that will change your mind.

but would it have changed anything?

he grins sideways, and you start to fear what he might say without tact. that he might be mean and cruel, that he might mock you because you're pathetic and that anything haechan had done to make you feel bad in the past, he could be worse.

but the eyes always give him away. he’s never been good at being heartless. he’s never been cruel to you. not when he treated that nasty wound when you were little. nor when he's always around when the things haechan does somehow get to you. not now, when he pushes you back and his hands are still gentle. “don’t wait for him. he left a couple of minutes ago,” he confesses, caressing your cheek without sparing a glance as he walks towards the exit.

his hands reach for the doorknob, and the last second, he seems to think it better. giving you one last look, his eyes are heavy with moonlight, “you should probably go before he does something way more stupid than leaving you alone.” when he leaves, pulling the night with him, he doesn't need to explain it; he's talking about the rest of the girls.

“that was rude…” you think to yourself, but after a while, you do what he says.

getting lost at a party or the time where you had everything, you almost lost it because you were afraid to take a leap of faith…

a list of things you swore you’d never do, and yet you had done the most reckless thing of all:

falling for your best friend.

you should have known, when you wished every traffic light were red on your ride here.

so you figured, you’ll never get drunk again and kiss strangers just to get an excuse to sit on his lap and have him close, crash at a party and wander aimlessly and see there’s no trace of him.

you’ll go to your apartment, with your heart racing and wrapped in your hand, only to find him by chance there.

haechan frozes right when you open the door and you both end up looking at each other from across your small room before he dares to excuse himself. “i swear i’m not looking at your panties drawer in a pervert way again…”

there are times when calling him out gives you a boost of good health, and then, in moments like this, you really hope silence conjures up everything you feel.

quiet, his cheeks look vine-colored, and you bet he still smells powdery. he’s so beautiful, it's overbearing; it makes you want to laugh. warmed, you stare at him holding a handful of stuffed animals —your stuffed animals.

a smile blooms on your lips and everything inside you sings before it stops suddenly, “don’t lie, i saw you looking.”

you close the door gently behind you, as if throwing a stone into a lake and hoping it won't make too many ripples that disturb the water. dimly lit, your room feels different tonight. like softened, at the edges. it’s hard for you to take in what he's done. he may not have done anything at all, but you'd still feel it, that tingling sensation, the fluttering in your chest.

it’s been a while since you’ve been friends, and you fear there will be no turning back when everything he touches you turn it into love. it wasn't that his room looked cozier, it was him bringing warmth everywhere, making it feel that way.

piece by piece, you see that he’s made the bed, and by the look of things, you think he has completely misunderstood your intentions, to sleep with him. you believe, either way, that being friends, doesn't bother you at all, if it means he reserves his affection only for you. if his eyes only turn to honey when he's with you.

you figured you’ll always let him come close and play you, mix your feelings and go back to the start, if it means having him forever.

“c’mere, let’s get you ready for bed.”

he grabs your hand and his rings sends shivers down your body, “i don’t want to sleep.” big, brown eyes sparkle when they bath you and you feel yourself blushing.

his voice comes soft and restrained. it warms your whole being, it makes you fuzzy. “what do you want?” in a trance, your body moves on its own. your arms rise and you find yourself holding him close. haechan wraps his arms around your waist and you inhale his scent, overwhelming your senses. powder, vanilla, wood, him. “you.”

pouring, your body is soaked with warmth when you feel him struggling to compose. “sleep with me.”

you had spent a long time fighting against the idea of how much everything he did woke up something in you, not realizing the effect you could have on him when you whispered in his ear. when you pull away to look into his eyes, you discover the most beautiful bedroom eyes you have ever seen.

of all the times you've been left hanging, the way he looks before he kisses you is probably your favorite.

deep, slow, steamed. your mouth opens to receive him, completely carried away by the way his lips move over yours. tongue gently colliding, you’re out of breath. kissing you ardently, full with tangible emotions, like the beating of his heart against your palm. his kisses trail off to the base of your neck, and when you look up at the ceiling, you swear seeing stars coming upon you and blazing your body.

your mind burns and it only goes down further, where his hands rests. “haechan.” you swallow, feeling overwhelmed.

he hums against your neck and you get flustered, following with sighs the path he makes with his fingers to your intimacy. it fills you to the point of overflowing delight and he smiles against your skin. “mmm?” he asks in approval, and it takes you a while to gather the words, “yes.” when his fingers shove down and touch you.

the floor shakes under your feet and he holds you against him as he rocks into you, tracing circles in that delicious, aching spot.

his mouth opens and his warm breath hits your crawling skin before he runs his tongue up to your ear, picking up the sweat, “c’mon yn, let me hear you.” whispering in the most compelling way you’ve ever heard him, your mouth opens and spill enticing sounds. your ears are blessed when you pant at the switch in motion and he laughs airily. your lower belly feels heavy and barely being able to breathe or do anything but grab hold of his shirt, you try not to lose control too quickly.

“such a pretty sound, my baby.”your whole body becomes aroused and desire washes over you from head to toe, making you feel light, stirring your senses and spreading them throughout the room in moans, the moment the cold of one of his rings brushes against your bare skin on his way to push them inside before he suddenly stops.

you feel his presence slip away from you and suddenly feel empty, before you feel his soft lips kiss your cheek. “d’you want to lay down?” when he looks at you, he still remains as handsome as ever. his face is bathed in attention while he stares at you, and you feel sudden shyness at him seeing you like this.

when he brings his fingers to his mouth while keeping his eyes on you, you figured he likes you, “i do.” a complacent smirk spreads across his face as you let him guide you blindly, devouring his mouth. your thighs touch the bed and you end up sitting on the edge with him hovering over you, leaving your lips to draw a path of kisses to your cleavage.

the valley of your breasts receive the caresses he leaves on his way down, where you soon come to terms with what comes next when he stops right at your feet. “yes?” breathlessly, you lean back and you let him put your legs on each shoulder, his nimble fingers taking advantage that you’re raised a few seconds off the mattress to remove your underwear.

your skirt rises and exposes your femininity, and you swear that his eyes light up seconds before he sinks his head between your legs and you swallow a sound. receptively, you arch your back and your legs move upward, taking his hair in your hands. “fucking delicious.” he eats you hungrily, squeezing your sensitive thighs with his fingers and giving you the feeling that the entire universe is bursting in the space between your legs.

you often wonder how everyone puts up with him when he gets this smug and cocky. when he uses his tongue, you finally understand.

“haechan-agh…”

your glassy eyes lands down and take in the light bouncing off the small jewels of your own arousal, and him, nose deep in you, nibbling on that sweet spot, turning you into a whining mess. head tilted back, your eyes flutter at the sensations running through you upward, blazing your mind and numbing your body. it becomes impossible to keep you upright and stop twitching under his paced motions, so you collapse onto the bed and your sight fills with tears.

it explodes deep inside and sends a spasming ripple through your body, making you want to curl up. unable to react, you float in limbo feeling waves of pleasure wash over your intimacy, shaking of your daze when he gives you a last stroke of tongue. his hands runs down your legs from bellow. lifting them up to reach your heels, he leaves kisses on your ankles.

haechan leaves you undone, fuzzy and faded. barely giving you time to recover, you hold your breath as he comes toward you and begins to kiss you urgently.

he tastes of lust and candy, letting you catch your breath just enough to keep up with the pace at which he devours your mouth. he tastes of desperation.

the kisses escalate and you’re between pillows and stuffed animals. in the middle of the bed without knowing how you got there, you welcome him when he positions himself between your legs. “my pretty girl.” his lips feel velvety like the mattress he’s pressing you against, tongue leaving an addictive taste on yours when you open your mouth and give in.

you’re barely sober, intoxicated by the way that no part of your body is left untouched. caresses feeling almost like he’d been waiting to run his hands on you, eyes traveling before his mouth does; when he reaches the scar on your thigh, his fingers pause.

“y’know? you’re usually so open about everything, but you've never told me how you ended up with this scar. or if i've done a good job.” he kisses both of your ankles when removing them while keeping his eyes on your expressions when you nod.

unfortunately, the words get stuck in your throat because his hands start traveling up your thighs again. “nothing to say, honey?”

you shake your head, “i…—” words come out slurred and between sighs. you’re unable to hold his gaze without your eyes feeling heavy. “i would’ve liked to watch you…”

you know you look like a mess. your droopy blouse barely covers your bust and is lifted up to your waist, just like your skirt. your face must be flushed and still bearing the traces of what happened a few seconds ago, but when you see him run his finger over your lower lip before kissing you, you know he must like it.

your fingers get tangled in his shirt and he pulls away just enough for you to remove it. he falls with all his weight on top of you and a sound escapes you as you feel him settle between your legs, your naked core feeling the sturdiness on his jeans.

his mouth leaves wet kisses on your jaw and neck as his hands venture down to remove your skirt, towering over you to begin unbuckling his pants. he kneels, and you pull yourself up as he watches the straps of your blouse slipping from your shoulders.

heavy breathing, his fingers burn your exposed skin as he pulls you toward him to lick your shoulder, digging them into your bare back. you lose yourself in the kiss, brimming with passionate intensity, turned into a bundle of sounds muffled against his mouth. pulling you toward him, you both fall onto the bed, with you straddling him.

his arm wraps around your waist to lift you up to undress himself, and the blouse falls further to expose the soft skin of your breasts. you see him, open his mouth involuntarily and his tongue peeking out just a little.

his breath hits you and gives you butterflies when he cradles one in his hands and puts his warm, wet mouth against your cold skin. choked up, your legs feel weak from being touched, almost losing it when you feel him standing erect against your femininity. haechan wreaks havoc on you, and your emotions quickly spread throughout the dimly lit room. his messy brown hair falls over his closed eyes, and you thrill at him getting so much pleasure from sucking your breats. with his plump lips wrapped around your nipple, his fingers holding them squeeze you and make you moan.

you find yourself barely able to stay on top of him, wanting to lower yourself onto his erect penis and have him close to you when he suddenly changes position and leaves you underneath him. he barely moves away when he returns to licking your already sensitive breasts and your fingers dig into his hair as you gaze at the stars.

“haechan…” you’re so desperate it hurts. yours legs have turned into a liquid pain that rises to your belly, and he just won't thrust into you.

instead, he begins to leave wet kisses on your stomach, which glisten in the light like flashes of silver. his mouth makes sounds every time he leaves a trail of saliva as he moves down, and you find yourself on the verge of ecstasy when he stops at the valley of your intimate area.

haechan has placed you so that you are slightly reclined on the pillows, giving him a view of your pink, swollen pussy, covered in silky lubrication and saliva. dripping over your thighs, the mere cold air gives you chills as you watch him slowly open your legs.

“i plan you to watch.” having his mouth back sucking and working wonders was just a whim. now he uses his fingers too, and you don't think you can hold out much longer. this is nothing like anything you've experienced before on your own while imagining him; this is a thousand times better.

his tongue barely gives you a break and you can't stop sounding hoarse and tearful. furrowing your eyebrows, your misty gaze falls and you see him nodding over your pussy, up and down. he changes speed again and it driving you crazy, unable to do anything but moan and arch.

his hands crawl across your stomach to your nipples beneath your disheveled blouse, and you have no other instinct than to reach for them and feel them against you. soft and covered in rings, you stifle a cry as you writhe beneath his touch, feeling your mind begin to fade away with pleasure.

“let’s get you ready.” when he curves his finger inside, a spasm strikes you and takes your breath away.

he pulls away from you just enough to see his face; flushed and overcome with indescribable emotion, he uses his fingers to feel you. his pretty face fills your heart with affection, and even though he looks tender and delicate, you now know how vicious he can be when his shiny darkened eyes look at you.

then, his fingers finish undoing the knots that tie your blouse, and you are completely naked and exposed in front of him.

you find yourself playing with your index finger in your mouth, writhing and stretching. you are so out of it that you can only reach out with your hands until they touch the soft material of one of your stuffed animals and bring it to your chest.

haechan watches you, eyes fixed on you, following your every move to the rhythm of his heavy breathing. you consider covering yourself to escape his prying gaze, but instead you reach up to the seams of the teddy bear and pull out the small, almost empty paper wrap.

he comes down and kisses you, ardently, deeply, your senses stirr when he pulls back and wait for you to put the join between his moist lips, soaked with your arousal.

you hold your breath and blindly reach for your candle lighter resting in the nightstand. when he inhales, smoke rings blur your vision, and your mouth tingles the moment he lets you taste the marijuana from his mouth.

mesmerized and dazed, barely aware of the rush of pleasure and desire that seeing him provokes in you, you let him kiss you and pass the smoke to you until he finishes. you find yourself ecstatically intoxicated by his presence between your legs. wet to the point of climax. but you’re so high words don’t come to you, but rather reflect in your eyes and body, in your entire being, vibrating and moving to have a touch of his body, the hands that made you pant his name, his bare legs flexing when you look down and see pearls of white liquid gushing from his tip. your mouth waters instantly for a taste of him.

to the side, your tongue leaves a lick from bottom to top, and the taste explodes on your palate when you enclose your lips around the tip and move down, taking it inside. bent over you, haechan sighs and let you give him a few sucking motions. licking and stroking, you’re entranced by how it barely fits, giving it a last suction until you run out of breath and pull away, only to find him frowning hard and with his eyes closed.

flustered, he bites his lips and you become aware of the effect you have on him. a small smile flashes across his face before he starts to look for something. “does your teddy bear have…?” a small black rectangle is trapped between your fingers under his gaze. fleeting pride crosses his features before he takes it from your hands.

“tell me if it hurts.”

you feel it press on your entrance, and a current shakes your body. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pushes into your hips slowly, his cock expanding you for him. without being able to help it, your eyes cascade down to the meeting of his pelvis against yours, and his solid length entering you. just a few more inches to go and you're already seeing stars.

your fingers grip the stuffed animal and a knot forms on your stomach. “agh… haechan~…” silky pleasure travels down your legs and up to your head, flooding everything with delicious sensations; a moan escapes your lips, then another and another until the base of his crotch hits you and you feel him slip out.

your arousal allows him to enter easily, he pumps you four times before he stops suddenly, “fuck, yn.” his closest hand holding your lower belly goes down and starts making circles on your clitoris, and a tingle runs through your body.

your body contorts when he increases speed, your pussy clenches and twitches, dazed by the full way it feels. you become drunk from the way he penetrates you with short, deep thrusts.

he stops again with a grunt and you whine loudly. “what?…”

warmth fills you when he comes to you and sink deep into your neck. your legs wrap around his waist and keep him close as he resumes the motion. “you feel amazing…” blushing, you bite your lips and melt away.

a shot of bliss washes you over, tilting your head back as you hold onto his shoulders, feeling his lips seek for yours. heavy breathing hitting your skin. eyes gazing into each other. arms wrapping around his neck, he thrust you harder and faster, before he takes the teddy bear out of the way to your breast, “let me see you,” he demands, yet his voice remains soft like honey. tits bouncing and belly tremble when he begins to rock his length with hard thrusts, girth making you close your eye shut due to the overwhelming sensation of fullness.

he lifts your pelvis and makes you arch, sensing him in new ways now that he hits your sweet spot from a different angle, decreasing the pace, the slow and sharp motion drives you to the edge the moment you were sure you were about to cum. “hae…” your voice sounds pasty and irritated; when your eyes gaze at him, he’s looking at the hot pink object falling out of mr. buttons.

oh. that. see, the vibrator was a bad joke from liz… that you ended up using it… just to give it a try. you would have liked to take it from his hands and hide it again, but from the way he’s looking at it and your stomach churns and warms, you crave for him to use it on you. almost overwhelmed and lost, you can barely hear him. “naughty girl.”

his voice has become deep and dark. you soon discover that it is due to desire. that it is because of you. he sounds crushingly beautiful.

the purring when he turns it on barely warns you how much you're going to like it, when he starts thrusting into you again with it pressed against your clitoris, you claw at the mattress and squeeze the pillow over your head. noise fills your mind and a delayed scream leaves your lips. you writhe even though he holds you tight. your legs give way and can barely stay still under the incessant trembling in your intimate area. liquid pleasure numb your muscles and sends you to a drowsy state. a sweet and silky feeling spread over your mind and you can’t hold the moans any longer. “aw, yes~ just like that, pretty girl.”

haechan fucks you hard and you find yourself physically choking back tears, suppressing as much as you can what is beginning to wreak havoc in your belly. you don't want to make any sound because you want to hear him and the way his moans are sweet music to your ears. cute and delicate. high-pitched and tearful. he whispers sweet nothings in your ears that left you dazed.

“breathe…” he chuckles in your ear and it sends goosebumps down your intimacy. “…haechan…” he closes his eyes and whimpers and suddenly you’re so awake to see him struggling and found out the reason why he stops so much it’s because he’s so close to fall over the edge and take you with him.

your eyes water and flutter when you feel pressure descend on your intimacy and numb you all over you, running out of breath. your stomach feels on fire and he just grabs your legs and lift them so they’re pressed against your chest. your whole body buzzes arches involuntarily. he’s all you can think about. his face, his grimace, the way he holds your thighs and the way his mouth keep pouring sweet sounds because you make him feel this good.

“oh, god~” he moans, seconds before he suffers one spasm and then another. an elongated cry leaves his lips when he tilts his head back and struggle to keep going, moments before you reach your high and cry his name. you grow increasingly tired as he ditch the toy and replace it for his fingers, soothing the ache that makes you squirm.

he keeps making noises when you kiss him. fingers dig into his hair and you stroke his back from top to bottom. “let me hear those pretty moans again.” you hold on tight as his fingers rub the rigid bulge of your intimacy.

he awakes every fiber of your body and receptively, a moan breaks the quiet room along with his cooing, until you grow more desperate. his big brown eyes look at you when you cup his face, visibly shaking and aroused. “am i your best friend?”

a kiss is left in his lips, long, impregnated with desire, slipping from your eyes darkened. “show me your favorite position.”

you're raised from the bed, caught in a bewitching spell of kisses and fingers tattooed on your skin. your breasts are wet from his mouth, sensitive due to constant biting and tingling for his touch. enraptured and in a pleasure-filled state of climax, you’re shuddering when you find yourself on top of him by his own doing. “haechan…” his name on your lips sound almost like a prayer for a celestial figure; an angel.

looking like an angel, he has round brown eyes filled with perverse things. tongue pressed in the valley of your breasts, you feel a sense of elation as he sinks into you again. frowning at each other for the overflowing and pleasure ecstasy, he closes his eyes and pants, “fuck, baby.” as you ride him, moving your hips back and forth, feeling with each thrust his length pushing against your walls and slipping on wet desire.

you feel the tangible, pleasurable pain in your chest, pounding and threatening to explode as your warm palms press against his chest and he falls between white pillows and bright gleams from your tears. fingers traveling to your waist and yours bury themselves in his forearms. the sounds increase as you intensify the pace, your stomach unleashes waves of warmth toward your crotch when he groans, “oh, yes, yn…” entering a state of such bliss he closes his eyes and helps you fuck him up and down.

cradled in his arms, his breath awakens every nerve in your body, stirring you and making you moan louder. you physically move with him when he changes positions and a sigh with pain leave your lips when you lose the delicious friction of his cock.

“…shhh, honey…” carried in his arms, he places you in front of pillows and stuffed animals, passing one arm across your chest. his breath hits your ear, “i’m showing you my favorites.” you arch involuntarily when he penetrates you, your body become needy and limp as he rhythmically hammers his cock in and out.

he takes you by the arms when you threaten to collapse on the bed, keeping you upright, he thrusts you and your head tilt backwards, receiving every inch of his girthy cock. “—oh~” you’re done, out of your mind. you hold onto the headboard and receive each of his thrusts and moans with ease until you melt around him again.

he reaches your clit and you whine his name stirring the words due to the overwhelming sensations he manages to bring out of you once more only with his cooing voice and fingers. he rocks you slow and hard, with guttural sounds coming out of his lips pressed against your ear.

drinking in, you end up reaching your high with your skin breaking in goosebumps as he hiss and starts laughing.

hearing his soft chuckle, he whispers, “how are you feeling? are you hurting, mmm?” he insists as he traces lines on your belly.

he places you on the bed, legs getting tangled under the sheets. you’re sore and tired, a smile blooms on your lips at the feeling of knowing the reason why. with all the weigh of your world on top of you, you take in his features, pretty, pretty. moles and delicate features, chiseled jaw and heart-shape lips. tanned and blushy. he feels heavenly, he’s made you touch the stars, yet he refers to you saying. “angel.” with his soft voice.

“i’m good…” you say, cheeks taking color. he’s dreamy, his eyes forms crescent moons due to the rush of energy spent. you would stay up all night if you could, if it weren't for his sleepy facial features. and he laughs. “what?” you ask.

“d'you want more?” he asks, boyishly. he sounds so drowsy it makes you yawn. you want him to teach you everything he knows. you want him to experiment with you and the positions he likes the most. yet your eyelids close unwillingly, and somnolent, you cup his face in your hands.

“wanna sleep with me?” you ask, noticing how his face lights up in an burst of color.

blue and red. “mmm…” he accepts, drawing you closer.

blue and red.

BLUE AND RED!

the haze that has fallen on your eyes barely allows you to see his features clearly, but there's no need for that; messy honeycomb hair that he brushes every now and then, delicate hands that surely caress like a lover, brown sugar eyes that now are still on you “why don't you go to sleep?” he asks, and his voice sounds soft and slippery like a warm feeling that drips through your mind. “i can't,” you hear yourself say.

“why?”

he looks really interested. but why does he care so much? it's him who disappears at the moment when everyone else is asleep and appears days later, leaning against the brick wall of the university on any given cold morning, smoking a cigarette with the rest as if he had never left. as if you're the only one who's noticed he wasn't there.

“why don't you go to sleep?” you replicate, and you feel your heart beat slower. “besides, will you be able to study tomorrow with us, anyway?”

he just shrugs his shoulders, “why?”.

where will he go, when he's not around, when you didn't know each other, years ago? will he go to his place? will he tour the city because he has insomnia, like you? because he has nightmares, like you?

“because you'll be behind with us and we'll have to help you keep up.”

“is that so terrible?” he asks now with a composed tone, and due to deprivation, you can't turn back time so you haven't been so insensitive. “sorry,” you apologize, “i'm irritated by this test, that's why i must stay awake,” you finally confess, but is it the truth? doesn't wanting to know if he's going to leave that time have anything to do with the desire of not want to go to bed?

“everyone's asleep,” he points out. but you. the words burn in your tongue when he speaks again, “there's no point in studying while being tired.”

“i'm not tired.” but he knows you're lying, and your cheeks burn at the thought of him knowing that. you are, in the way your eyes stay closed longer than necessary when you blink, startling when an apex of desolate darkness comes and tries to lurks you in., you're too busy trying to soothe the dizzy spell to notice that he has come closer to you.

“go to sleep, star.”

“maybe if you... sleep with me.” donghyuck laughs briefly, shaking his head slightly, and you simply stay there, unable to look away, because one of the strands of his soft hair has moved slightly out of place, and you fight the urge to run your fingers between them. he doesn't lose his composure for a second, even though his cheeks are flushed. “would that be a good dream?”

“ask me tomorrow.”

your eyes close and open heavily, feeling the thick fog of sleep take possession of your mind while his figure seems to change the further you lose the battle. “i'll stay a few more minutes” you grumble in disadvantage of this weird sensation taking over your body, feeling his face being swallowed by the darkness that envelops you, casting shadows over his delicate, angular features. “now, yn.”

“i'm afraid i'll have nightmares about letters changing places if i do,” you say in an exhale.

he raises the corners of his lips, “i'll keep them away.”

his voice vibrates and passes through you in waves, resonating and expanding within you, injecting a silky sedative into your bloodstream. you are not in control of your body. the calming effect that his voice has is hard to battle, letting your head pull back and your arms fall inert on either side of your body, feeling the weight of the book slip like liquid out of your lap, feeling that every second you spend unsuccessfully in regaining control of your body is another second that slips from your fingers until it becomes an unstoppable retreat.

no matter how hard you strive to resist, slumber proves an unyielding force, and gradually, you sink deeper into morpheus domain. your body offers no resistance, your consciousness scatters throughout the boundless universe, wandering towards the endless expanse of the cosmos as the battle, both unfair and treacherous, dissipates.

as the world blurs, he's looking at you. it's his docile and magnanimous voice resounding in every bone that makes your voyage to the gloomy stars less terrible. and as you go there, you were looking at him.

time passes differently on the rem. you don't know how to explain it. it's hard to put into words. there is no activity at instance, only unconsciousness. nothing. and then... the entire universe formed with one pulse. time shrinks and cracks like a wormhole, and you're passing right through it.

your screams are barely a muffled sound in the immense darkness that rushes past you. your lungs fill with frigid air, and each frightened exhalation feels like a stab. fear tightens your stomach as you plummet through the hole. this is the moment when you remember a forgotten detail; it's just a nightmare, despite your emotions being real, despite feeling the terror emanating from your body.

there's always a mist clouding your dreams. something you dread when you close your eyes and find yourself alone for a moment in that darkness. thick, volatile, arcane. a piece of a starless sky, which weaves its own mantle that extinguishes sunlight. it smells like a thunderstorm, like the dark part of the moon. and yet, the terrors that fright the long nights are easily dissolve in liquid twilight when golden threads intervene, transforming the matter into a meteor shower.

and you're falling once again, into the stars. no. you're floating among them.

you are dreaming.

was this a fragment that belonged to the ether before it got lost in the darkness? was it yours? the matter becomes so thin that your unconscious body can pass through it. stranded in the endless void between the stars. but now everything glows.

a cozy bedroom. a café opened at midnight. a party. a city at night. a meadow. a black hole. a beach.

all happening, in the same fraction of time.

the wheat your fingers touch. the rock music that envelops your body not so different from the one that comes out of a jukebox at midnight while you dance slowly. your feet buried in the sand.

your gaze lowers to your feet before looking at the expanse of sea. little by little the sounds come back, and you're listening to the seagulls over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.

“are you going to stand there?” chenle startles you as he passes by your side, smiling so openly while he walks away toward the shore, that makes you smile too.

your eyes water from looking straight at him, waiting for an answer, and you find yourself thinking what to say, when someone else does it. “no,” jisung answers with a light laugh.

a sense of unease settles in your stomach. you slice your head for memories of how you ended up in that place when all of a sudden you remember that you haven't woken up yet.

you keep dreaming, but why this dream? where are the others?

why do you seem to be an intruder in your own dream?

“chenle, where are w-…?” your words are cut off. you cut them yourself. your voice…. sounds different; it echoes through space before returning to you in waves, until all that's left is the sound of your pulse pumping behind your ears.

you witness something unusual. jisung and chenle watch you. their faces reveal nothing, frozen in a neutral expression. all of humanity torn from their jovial faces and leaving only a shell that shows no emotion whatsoever.

a thunder strikes the sky, and jisung's face transforms. “what are you doing here?” you hesitate before speaking because you remember how your voice sounded a few moments ago; just like how his sounds like now. “i don't like this dream.” you ask, and everything is unsettling for you. a smile disfigures the boy's pale face, “i do.”

within that inner space, the corner of the universe residing within you, something stirs.

you've never been able to dream. and he often slumbers eternally when you're conscious, only to awaken for fleeting moments, like the ones when you do dream, to play with them. a riddle of ivory and hair as dark as night, celestial as a sculpted statue, perfectly chiseled, with skin as pale as lunar dust, as frigid as thee. you refer to him as nightmare.

nightmare, like the ones that torment you in the long nights. like the monsters that inhabit your head. nightmare, like this one. 

you don't know anything about it, only that it dwells in you. in the immensity of your nightmares. he. who is so wary of the touch of morpheus that takes you out of the rem, where you wake up, breathing erratically.

it's still dark. the room is darkened and you feel that someone is lurking in it. wrap its hands around you, feeling your heart skip a beat as the fear crawls inside, failing to escape the dreaming. “it's me, star. it's donghyuck, it's donghyuck,” his voice tinted with sedative calmness even though you sense your own desperation in it.

you feel his fingers in your hair, as if he can untangle the bad dreams from your head, while his voice continues to feel serene, having an effect on your runaway pulse. you allow yourself to be influenced. it's always this needs to find warmth even in a place on fire. letting your guard down even when your gut says something is wrong, that he feels wrong. “you can't have good dreams.” your breath gets stuck in your throat when you hear his nocturnal voice, “he'll make sure of that.”

your body sits up, and a thud rumble causes jisung to stir in his sleep. the dim light of a forgotten lamp reveals his features in deep sleep. chenle sobs beside you, in trouble. the world becomes silent as his mouth opens but nothing comes out of it, and suddenly his chest becomes still.

jisung mutters something when you're halfway from chenle. you don't hear it until he repeats it, this time more pressing, “wake— up.” your eyes travel to the boy, breathless at jisung's twisted features in a grimace of anguish.

“chenle, wake up.” your hands shake it, but there's no answer. there's nothing.  he's not breathing. “chenle,” you say more urgently, slapping his face a couple of times, “you need to breathe.” your face moves closer to his chest to try to feel his heartbeat; you don't like the revelation at all. “chenle, now!” jisung frets under your attempts to awaken chenle; his murmurs begin to become more frequent and yours more desperate.

“it's just a dream.”

jisung keeps repeating «wake up», and you start to get impatient. in one last attempt, you shift your attention to him. your hands hesitate, suspended in the path it takes you to reach his shoulders, before you do, taking a breath of air. “wake up, now!”

chenle takes a long breath of oxygen behind you, sitting up in the sleeping bag almost as jisung's eyes widen in stupefaction. you feel your head lighter, forcing you to rest your weight on your elbows while catching your breath.

“what the hell was that?” chenle asks in a hoarse voice, casting a glance at jisung before you.

you deny shortly. “you stopped breathing.”

“i know… i was— drowning,” he mentions with a shallow tone.

“what were you dreaming?” you hear yourself asking even though you don't want to know the answer.

his eyes pull away from his friend to answer you. “a beach.”

( ✶ )

donghyuck has disappeared, as usual. and you can't come to the conclusion whether that's bad or good. but it is inevitable to go around the courtyard in search of his presence. try to find him in the cafeteria with the others, or in the library where you thought he would be with jaemin that day. but it is useless, and trying to contact him is even more so. you know you shouldn't worry too much about his absence; donghyuck always comes back. even when it takes days or weeks. and feeling that you would expect it all that time does not end up seeming hopeful or pathetic. because he just doesn't care. he makes no excuses. he gives no explanation. he just appears, as if only one day had passed, as if you had said goodbye yesterday.

and every time, the lapses in which he disappears become larger. at first, it was days; he always came with an excuse about being busy. then weeks. and so on, the lapses will grow wider, until you forget his features. until you forget him.

“don't think too hard, bug.” his voice takes you out of the planet of thoughts, but his eyes remain on the book in his hand, “it's no use.” then his gaze lands on you, and it feels like he can see through you.

“what are we searching for?” jaemin lets you change the subject and focus on the stall. “art project,” he absentmindedly informs, “my teacher wants us to investigate not-so-ordinary things.”

“thats why we're in the fantasy section?” renjun arrives unexpectedly and joins in the casual chat while leaving a pile of books on the shelf where jaemin had left his attention.

“urban fantasy, little bird,” jaemin corrects under the shared chuckles of you and renjun. “troubles with sleeping?” he asks, taking notice of the books renjun had had in his possession just minutes ago.

“per usual. is either i finish my midterms or my midterms finishes me.” he pats his shoulder before taking a seat at the study table designated by the science student committee to chat during breaks.

“nightmares?” jaemin inquires before renjun shakes his head and scares away his words with his hand in a relaxed gesture. “cute, but no.”

your countenance shadows by thoughts entangling as they form, “drowning?” the word escapes from your subconscious before you can stop your mouth and renjun looks at you strangely. “dreaming apnea.”

“you found that in your little search?” jaemin praises with a smug smile that causes renjun to roll his eyes. “are you having dreaming apnea?” he wonders looking at you.

you shake your head. “i—” no. just your taciturn nightmare, until that night. of all of them the one where he was there, and you dreamed. a few seconds of glory before falling down the hole that always waits below, “see you at the red door.” jaemin and renjun say goodbye to you smiling slightly before watching you walk away from the study table towards the exit.

you can't tell them about chenle yet. not without knowing what it means. your mind is fragmented in the fateful night moment when his heart stopped beating and the moment before your nightmare triggered a metamorphosis.

a sharp pain goes through your head just thinking about it. all those dreams, could they be yours? you find yourself trying to calm the drill that slices your brain at the little hint of dreaming when you hear their voices.

“... finds out.”

“... she's not...”

they abruptly shut up as if they feel like you're listening.

jisung's gaze looks sterner than usual when chenle speaks, “d'you think you're safer?”

“no.” his voice is barely a whisper.

chenle sighs audibly, “we can make mistakes, just… don't kill me in one of those.”

jisung laughs.

“it never turned into a nightmare before...”

his words keep echoing in your head for a long time later.

( ✶ )

“an essay on dreams.”

“you must be kidding!” renjun exclaims, throwing his head back to show his annoyance.

“what does that mean anyway?” jisung asks with his mouth full of popcorn, “like, to prove your point you'll fall asleep in front of everyone?” chenle laughs at the other end of the couch.

“hear me out for a second.”

“oh, not again,” replies chenle.

jaemin ignores chenle to answer the confused boy, “i'm doing research about the rem.”

“so dreams and nightmares, then,” mutters renjun.

“the spectrum.”

everyone looks at him, dumbfounded. “how does our brain process dreams? why can't we remember some? is there a fragmented consciousness?...”

you feel donghyuck gaze on you, and when you return it, you discover that he is looking at you strangely. “entertained?”

“very,” you say, feeling the word slide down your tongue and leave a strange aftertaste. you've been feeling weird this week. it's been a few days since you eavesdropped on chenle and jisung, and you don't know how to feel about it. you haven't talked about it; you've kept your distance while the waters calm down. in the meantime, dreaming and having mental lapses in identical proportions are taking your mind lately. dreams that now belong to you. dreams that you can't seem to have enough of. you wake up from them and spend the whole day waiting to go back to bed and dream. this time, what?

a terrace in milan. night walks in new york. a piano in a london theater.

your eyes close under the premise of rem and a thousand and one dreams, but you find yourself unable to fall asleep as you feel commotion in the small living room where everyone is asleep.

but donghyuck.

the bewilderment crawls into your skin, “what…?” but donghyuck presses a finger over his mouth. silence.

your eyes sweep the place, travel to chenle; his chest rises and falls.

another rumble is heard.

“where's renjun?” you question without making a sound.

kitchen.

you get there before him because he has to cross the entire room to catch up with you when you've already changed rooms. the lights are off, and yet the silvery light that trickles through the window is extinguished when it stumbles upon his stretched figure.

even when everything is dark, you can feel his gaze.

“going somewhere?”

you feel him smile. “this late?” your eyes squint to see in more detail. you feel donghyuck get closer. renjun's voice sounds different when he speaks, “i like the night better.”

renjun opens the door, and the light coming in from the moon reveals his closed eyes.

donghyuck gets in the way when you make a pretense of going to renjun. “he's asleep—” you intervene, watching him debate. renjun disappears through the door he has opened before going into the long night “i'll go.”

what he did. what he did to you. the words he said when you thought you were out of the nightmare; you start to think that all of this is happening because of him.

he can see it in the way you look at him.

“i'll bring him back, yn,” he says before letting you go with slight reluctance. his dark eyes are the last thing you see before he disappears in pursuit of renjun.

your breath condenses in your throat as you turn around and hit jisung's sleepy figure squarely. “where are they going?”

you find yourself in the dilemma of whether or not to tell him, when in the end your bad judgment wins out “donghyuck… he, renjun, he's…”

“sleepwalking.” jaemin's yawns as he passes the two of you to close the door. you both stare at him in surprise before he stiffens slightly and speaks, “one of the terrors of the rem spectrum.”

“terrors?”

“nightmares.”

chenle enters the kitchen scratching his stomach, “well, that doesn't sound silly anymore.”

“shouldn't we go after him?” you ask, “what if he gets hurt?” you add after watching jaemin shakes his head.

“donghyuck's with him,” jaemin persuades.

“and magically we should relax?” chenle says incredulously under the eldest's gaze.

after a few long seconds where everyone waits for an elaborate answer, jaemin takes a breath of air and lets out “yes.” with nothing else before heading to the leaving room.

“wait a fucking minute.” chenle goes after him, and consequently, jisung and you too. “that's it? are we leaving the safety of our friend to someone we see every forty days?” he utters without a hint of sleep, watching jaemin shrug his shoulders, “what if he's a werewolf?”

“oh, my god.”

“we're in the middle of halloween, he might as well just be reaching out to us to become one of his kind.”

“okay, kid, enough tv before going to bed.” jaemin lets go, shaking off the chenle's grip, “you too,” he adds, looking at jisung.

due to chenle's heavy gaze, reluctant to give his arm to twist, jaemin snorts, “he's not a fucking werewolf.”

“vampire?”

“no.”

“why do you trust him?” jaemin is surprised at the contrast between his conversation and yours, but when he responds, you feel like he's grateful that you asked.

“i have sleep paralysis.”

“at first i thought it was because of having to work at that bar so i could pay rent and college...” he remains silent and lets himself be swallowed up by his mind going at a thousand revolutions.

“but they turned longer and longer, until i couldn't close my eyes without the fear that i'd be imprisoned in my own body again.”

“he offered to wake me up when that happened. he stayed in my place for a few nights and helped me.”

“did you dream about him?” everyone looks at jisung before jaemin shakes his head.

“why would i dream about him?” chenle adds under his breath before deciding it was good time go back to sleep.

“i mean, has anyone ever?” jisung goes behind him, answering in low volume, leaving you with his words causing swirls in your head.

“have you?” jisung looks over his shoulder at your face, but is only met with a neutral gaze that doesn't reveal the dead-end labyrinths that build up every time you try to reveal a moon phase of donghyuck. “no.” when he's everywhere.

when he knew jaemin for longer and never appeared in his dreams. nor chenle or jisung. no one has ever dreamed of him, and you couldn't dream before that night.

monday comes by, and so tuesday. all at once, the sounds come back to you until they become a swarm from which you have no escape, pulling out of your small universe. the night continues its constant rhythm, forcing you to stay agile, waiting tables in a bar on some forgotten street.

“still don't know why we come here all the time,” chenle says, taking a sip from this beer the moment you left it in front of him as his gaze swept the seedy place where you work half a shift. you smile unapologetically as you leave another one in front of jisung. “cheaper beers,” he answers for you, “and jaemin and yn work here.”

“what's up with the frown?” jaemin's voice blends in with the rest of the chatter, coming in your direction with a sad grimace on his face, mockingly. chenle rolls his eyes, “i'm just saying that we might as well get out of here drunk or dead.”

“it's not that bad, lele,” jisung tries to appease unsuccessfully when chenle scoffs in response. “say that when we get matching stabs in our way out,” he adds with sulkiness.

jaemin clicks his tongue, “stabs are friday's special, don't worry about it today, little prince.”

“ha,ha.”

jaemin stops smiling to adress you, “hey, can you take out the trash?”

your steps guide you towards the door designated for staff, and the voices of the group fade into the distance, swallowed by the sea of souls in that overcrowded establishment. it's quite a challenge to navigate among swaying bodies and avoid the occasional vomit stains; a typical night at the red door. frankly, you have no idea how you ended up there, in that dim corner of the city's harbor, where the majority of the clientele appears to be a curious mix of fishermen and shady characters.

before braving the cold night outside, you cast one final look at the group, attempting to soothe chenle's mood as the icy wind lashes at your face.

a chill envelops the outside, causing the nearest souls to huddle indoors, even though it's bursting at the seams. your breath escapes in ethereal clouds as you step through the door; a single bulb intermittently lights the desolate alley. it flickers in a constant dance of light and darkness, and it's not until the third flicker that you realize you're not alone. three silhouettes wrap themselves in the cold of the night as you put the bags in the bin. it's the midst of october, and the city seems trapped in an endless cycle of rain and snow. the fishermen seek refuge inside that cozy bar before the first light of dawn breaks, prepared for their maritime journey.

they seem to have a pleasant conversation as you redo the march toward the cozy interior of the seedy bar when his laughter reaches you with the wind. 

“tell me, sleepwalker.” his voice, so different from the one he uses with you, is the embodiment of the dark side of the moon, deep as the endless night. “there's a price for our knowledge, my dream,” whispers one of them, his companions barely whisper to each other with a seductive tone, appearing indifferent to the shadowy nuance with which donghyuck addresses them as if they were accustomed to hearing him that way, and you are the only one taken aback by witnessing it for the first time.

the bulb flickers and plunges you into darkness as they continue talking. in one flash, you see his broad back turning towards you. another flicker, and the features of his companions start to emerge as if they are being shaped in the dark time it takes for the bulb to light up the alley once more. your breath freezes in your throat.

“good dreaming, perhaps?” you find yourself considering that the entities he converses with might not be entirely of this world, and that donghyuck is not perturbed, but rather accustomed to their presence.

“doesn't work like that,” he replies with a hint of humor under the fog that causes his voice in you.  “you've done it before,” appeals the other one starting to look more like a woman with each dark flicker. you see donghyuck leaning toward her, and it's impossible to discern when he turns his back to you. you feel the seconds pass with two beats of your heart, as donghyuck regains his composure, and the figure releases a laugh that indicates donghyuck's actions have affected her. your mind undergoes a revolution, not knowing what he has done, filling your head with ideas you don't want to let affect you.

a can blocks your path, disrupting the piercing silence of the alley as you struggle to increase the distance between him and you, while simultaneously shortening the one separating you from the door. suddenly, a dizziness envelops you as his eyes meet yours.

your elusive figure slips back into the bar after having listened to their entire conversation, having gone unnoticed by their radar. donghyuck turns his gaze back to the two women, consumed by dreams, appearing more like specters than humans due to the time they've spent traversing the dream realm. completely stripped of amusement when his eyes lock onto them, one of the women dares to speak, “look at you, so far from home. chasing a myth.”

“what would morpheus think if he sees you?” donghyuck nods in acknowledgment. both figures smile, mirroring each other in a shared consciousness. he remains silent as each passing second takes a toll on the women, now reduced to little more than shadows and uncertainty. their eyes narrow once again as donghyuck addresses them, “ask him yourselves. you're now, awakened.” his voice, brimming with power, issues a gentle reprimand for their roundabout approach. donghyuck watches them dissolve into the cold night, carried away by the wind to their ensnared bodies in the dreaming, before he figures out what to do with you. his eyes trace back to the spot where you vanished before he follows your trail within. 

the darkness envelops the surroundings, weaving a perfect nest for nightmares and terrors. he can hear them, his dreams and nightmares, those dark and eager thoughts yearning to break free from his mind, craving to run wild in the world. his eyes catch the faint golden threads that barely endure; the realm of sweet dreams clings as a fragile inhabitant in that place overrun by nightmares. he sees your figure moving through the crowd, approaching the group of boys who seem to have stepped out of a fairy tale to which you feel you don't quite belong, always yearning to reach the sun and bask in its warmth, despite being destined to settle for shadows and cold. feeling confined and punished by the terrors, yet perceiving a spark in your eyes capable of kindling your own fire if that's what you need to stay warm.

a sturdy arm intercepts the space between your body and that of the group. your eyes follow the limb until they meet a face weathered by the storm, bloodshot eyes, and a repulsive smile. “another round of beer for this table, darling,” he grumbles. his companions cheer as you nod hesitantly, getting ready to go for the drinks, but the arm hasn't budged an inch. “what's wrong? i saw you smiling at that group over there. is there no smile for me?” the beer-stained breath wafts into your nostrils, reminding you to be cautious. the men exchange glances at your lack of reaction, allowing the arm that holds you captive to linger another second with them. you exhale and resume your walk when a jolt rocks your world, and a hand lands on your rear unceremoniously. “give us a smile!” unrestrained chaos erupts due to the man's audacious move, taking you by surprise. laughter erupts at their table as you break free from his grasp with force, the motion propelling you forward until you collide with a solid surface.

you gasp for breath, determined to untangle yourself from the arms that envelop you and keep you captive when your eyes meet donghyuck's gentle gaze before it shifts behind you. you see his eyes cloud over, and you recall the encounter with those specters from a moment ago, prompting you to break free from his grip and put as much distance between him and you as allowed, escaping to the boys who talk about dreams and nightmares.

thanks to jaemin's discoveries from his essay, everyone is more aware of the spectrum, as he often calls it. how nightmares influence sleepers, causing terrors such as apnoea, sleep paralysis, narcolepsy, and sleepwalking; all the things that have been affecting you these past nights.

apnoea. the decease of holding your breath while diving in the ocean of dreaming. sleep paralysis. being conscious while being in the ether. nightmares. darkness that slips into your dreams and turns golden threads into liquid shadows. narcolepsy. the state of the consciousness that gets trapped in the ether. insomnia. inability to enter the dream spectrum, unwelcome.

“...morpheus and the dreamcatcher. how morpheus loved his dreams so much he turned them real.” you hear as you come closer.

“finally,” jaemin greets you before you realize he's talking to someone else. donghyuck has appeared behind you after you left him with those guys; his gaze has darkened. “shall we leave?”

“wait a minute.” chenle's voice interrupts donghyuck's, “is he coming?”

“why wouldn't he?” jaemin replies.

chenle scoffs graceless, “i don't know, jaems, maybe for the fact that all of this is happening when he's around,” he points out, sweeping his glare for approval, “besides, where the fuck is renjun, huh? bet he killed him and…”

“he, what?” renjun arrives without prior notice and places his hand on chenle's shoulder, who startles at the unexpected arrival of the boy. “ren!” jisung hugs the eldest under chenle's gaze.

“oh my god, tell me i'm not the only one who thinks this is a bad idea.”

“you've been thinking bad ideas since we arrived,” mocks jisung.

“whatever.”

your eyes take record of him, as much to everything. how chenle has big blue bags under his eyes, how jisung yawns every now and then, how jaemin seems barely here with you while renjun tries to pretend to be calm while he hasn't stopped fidgeting around.

nothing is said for a long time, but the aura remains the same, kneading the words and connecting them, failing to stay awake in class, being in a complete state of abstinence, being physically but absent. they being unable to sleep without the fear of facing their worst nightmares again, growing with each hopeless exhale, taking more space, becoming more ferocious, annihilating any iota of good dreaming.

“hey.” you blink repeatedly under jaemin's concerned gaze and offer him a reassuring smile before your gaze meets donghyuck's.

and how he looks more tired than ever.

with his bright eyes completely dull, distant expressions and a mind working at high speed behind his gaze lost somewhere in the universe that inhabits his head. he, has been having bad dreams? what will he dream of? what will his taste like? more worrying, how did he do it? making you neglect your duties for the simple fact of making you dream of outer space.

“it's dawning,” you comment, “we should probably get going.”

time fades away as they gather their belongings and venture into the dark night. your mind gets lost in a sea of thoughts before you remember that you've forgotten something, and you quickly retrace your steps back to the bar. you follow your steps automatically to the staff door, and your eyes find the piece of cloth on the coat rack. you take it in your hands, ready to return to your friends, when something catches your attention. the service door is slightly ajar, maybe due to the cold wind, maybe due to unknown hands.

your fingers brush against the doorknob to close it, but in a final breath, you decide to step out into the alley, guided by a hunch.

a thick, dark fog swirls on the wet ground of the alley, while the light bulb in your heart flickers to the rhythm of the sharp whistles in the air. the light reveals their figures, and darkness envelops them as you hear the sounds they make. the light shows the glint of their blades, while the darkness makes you feel more than hear the steel cutting through skin. the light reveals their sinister self-inflicted smiles, and darkness enshrouds them once again.

the dark mist rises and condenses in the spot behind them, taking shape, molding a pair of shoulders draped in black garments, hair as dark as the night, and two eyes that gaze at you with depth. you hear his vicious laughter resonating within you.

( ✶ )

another night descends upon all, and each one tries to find sleep. however, you find yourself willing to stay awake, trying to keep yourself at bay from the clutches of morpheus. you toss and turn on the sofa unable to find rest and choose to remain in the room's dimness.

the memories of that night haunt your thoughts, like persistent shadows refusing to fade. the images of what happened seem to replay in your mind again and again, giving you no respite.

as you're immersed in your thoughts, you sense chenle stirring in his dreams; the dreaming heads of everyone scattered in jaemin's small room like stars, and it all seems to happen again. it feels like an eternity has passed since they were all like this, every laugh, every conversation, every shared look and gesture of camaraderie among them, whose only concern was passing exams. but it's only been two weeks. two weeks without him.

your eyes begin to close unexpectedly. “enough,” you demand from the boy hidden in the shadows. “i'm not doing anything, star.” his eyes look like daydream pools when he looks at you, “you're just tired.”

you struggle against the lethargy that fills your body, reluctant to close your eyes after what you've seen, after witnessing what the darkness conceals. dreams, on the other side of the room, so far out of your reach. nightmares, your recurring companion when you shut your eyes. his tattooed on your subconscious, brimming with ruthless coldness against the specters, ingrained in the alley where the men cut off their own smiles.

“they were evil.” his voice yanks you from your reverie, “they use human bodies to wander through worlds while they sleep,” calm and warm, explains. your gaze darts toward renjun, sleeping. “yes,” he responds as though he'd anticipated your query. “you should’ve come sooner,” you reproach. donghyuck remains reticent as you unload your grievances upon him and allows you to vent until you feel hollow inside, while everything whirls around him. “i couldn't.”

“why?”

the words burn at the tip of your tongue, despite knowing the answer. despite having seen the lines of reality blur and worlds collapse. you can't decide whether to feel fear or relief; you can’t trust him anymore.

you leave donghyuck with the word in his mouth, rolling over on the couch. whatever half-truth he wants to tell you, you don't want to hear it.

it's faster that time. dreams don't put up resistance when you insert yourself into them. and again, you dream the same thing.

the sand you feel between your fingers as real as in the city, with jaemin. in the meadow, with renjun. in a black hole, alone.

you always resort to the same fragment of dream. and even though you stay out of it, the sleep is disturbed. it mutates.

“are you going to stand there?” chenle passes by your side,  smiling so bright, completely ignoring what you see.

your eyes go to the expanse of sea behind them, which now rises in a wave until it blends with the blue of the sky; a sand island caught in the middle. the sounds of seagulls reverberate in the sky until you realize that it is not them but dolphins, using the clouds as waves.

“no,” jisung answers with a light laugh.

“don't make me drown this time,” chenle jokes, and you wonder.

is this chenle's dream or jisung's dream? or perhaps, something in between?

a thunderclap rumbles in every nerve joint at the same time as it does in the ground, forming the wake of the lightning in fingers that protrude from the sand and form rings that touch the sea. your eyes close dejectedly. it's the beginning of the denouement. no matter how you decide to appear, the result is always the same.

“it's a vortex.” you are startled to hear his well-known voice behind you, before you finally see him. his face… almost lights up even though it's shadowed with concern. but there's no doubt he could be containing a sun within. “it's bringing the walls down, so the dream glitches.”

“are you dreaming this too?”

you see the flutter of a strange smile that brightens up his face more, “i'm not dreaming, neither are you.” donghyuck scans the surroundings before taking note of you taking note of him. “this is chenle's dream,” he explains, “and jisung's,” he finally adds.

“they're both dreaming the same dream because of the vortex.”

“what's a vortex?”

“a sleep phenomenon,” he says, meditating. “what happens if it brings the walls down?”

a few seconds pass when your heart stops beating in the wake of his response, “the dreaming will collapse.” and that'll mean there will be no barrier between what is real and what is ethereal, so dreams will run free. and nightmares.

“their whole nature is dangerous. vortex cannot dream so they enters other's people,” donghyuck explains to you, “by doing this, the lines between dreams blurries, and two people dream about each other.” but it's impossible to look at him for long when you have secrets in your eyes. “it must be eradicated.”

“i thought people could dream about other people.”

“chenle is not dreaming about jisung, he is dreaming with jisung,” he remarks, “they're both consciously dreaming together because jisung is causing it.”

your eyes turn to donghyuck. “jisung is the vortex?”

he nods while something heavy settles in your stomach. it all makes sense now. all the inexplicable. everything out of the ordinary. their conversation. the day at the library where chenle was worried that someone would find out. all this time you thought they were talking about you, but they were actually talking about him. they were afraid of him.

what is he?

“what if you're wrong?” you question, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

“i'm not.” his voice is tinged with regret, as if he were aware that you know he must do something irremediable, at any cost. “i have the entire collective unconscious.”

dreams. conveyed by threads to the planet of dreams, a labyrinth of interwoven strands that shape the entirety of existence, a web spun from something finer than mere dust. exquisitely delicate, suspended in the ethereal air, poised to glide through your fingers and move with the grace of otherworldly tendrils. able to knot and twine, whirl, and stretch, yet they remain unbroken, eternally binding the rem.

some of them are thinner or more delicate. they are malleable. vulnerable. easily influenced if pulled in the right way. they are susceptible to corruption.

sorrow settles on his countenance, “i need to protect the dreaming.”

“by eradicating him. that's your answer for all?”

restlessness. distrust. both emotions intertwine, and you can only sense the unfamiliar essence of something fluttering within you, exploring this place and awakening once more.

“star…,” donghyuck appeals, but you're deep enough. “if he's not dreaming he's not a threat.” you try to convince him back, but his eyes shun yours as if they might cast a spell on him against his will. “don't do this to me.”

“asking you a favor?”

as the sun sinks below the horizon, so does chenle and jisung. a glow casts shadows on his angular features, his eyes encapsulating the sunset as he responds, “because you already know the answer.”

nightmare contorts and twists its form. donghyuck senses that something is amiss when he sees your features contort with what appears to be annoyance and fear. he tries to reach you, but the ground beneath his feet trembles, and before he knows it, the earth beneath your feet splits open, a boulder begins to collapse into the sea that now wets your feet.

his hands reach out to you desperately, you feel them almost touching, keeping you suspended from the abysm.

“let go.” donghyuck's eyes are covered with astonishment, “the dream is collapsing itself.” your voice manages to sound convincing over the sound of the raging sea swallowing the rock. he denies, and you discover that it's not distrust that moves him to keep you in the dream with him, it's panic. “i can protect them, but i can't protect you if you let go.”

for the first time you see hesitation cloud his eyes. uncertainty. wherever you're going, he can't. and it terrifies him.

you were there before. often. “i'll be fine,” you nod, and the movement causes your cheeks to soak wet. “it's just a dream.”

you manage to dispel the uncertainty just a little. enough for him to grant. “you'll have to wake him up,” he informs. his gaze shifts to your clasped hands before you can nod, and your heart prepares under your ribs for the imminent moment of your dream. you see him hesitate. something clouding his mind.

his lips part but you notice the words freeze in his throat; resignation tinges his features as if he is giving up something, before letting you go.

you are reduced to nothing before you expand again and your lungs begin to fill with air. your body only has a few seconds to adjust to the change of states before you go towards the sleeping figure of chenle.

his chest rises and falls, and your pulse resets in relief. wake him up is easier this time. his sleepy eyes open before closing again. the rem state restarting into a new sleep cycle. you're pleased with it before heading to the other dreamer but he's gone.

you look for him in the dark room, before you give up and your body unconsciously heads towards donghyuck's. “donghyuck,” you call him as your hands carefully shake him.

his hair is wet. “hyuck, wake up.” fear grips your insides and begins to climb up your spine when you see him arising.

your face get soaked, feeling his body tense up when you wrap your arms around him, feeling you self-aware of it before you sense his hand resting awkwardly on your back.

your body still has the memory of the night gone by. you must separate yourself from him to make sure that he is the real donghyuck, and not one of the tricks of your mind; when you look at him, his gaze melts into yours. and you have no doubt left.

your close without you being able to help it, “no more nightmares,” he pronounces watching you nod;  the world is already cruel as it is.

you're too tired to fight the tiredness, so you let yourself be deposited on the still warm surface of his sleeping bag. “don’t be afraid of me,” he whispers, and you think he's longing for it.

your hands meet his face blindly. donghyuck holds his breath the moment your fingers brush his lips.

sleep gains more ground, and your hands slide out of his face unwillingly, before he takes them between his.

“star…” he calls, but there's no answer from you.

the seconds go by more slowly, and you have to wait forever to feel his lashes tickling your cheeks. your lips being brushed softly. register in your memory.

you find donghyuck's slightly frozen gaze crumbling when a smile betrays you. “it'd be a good dream,” you say with your voice muffled in his embrace. you sense him nuzzling into you. “if i sleep with you?” he asks, surprising you for even remembering it.

the vortex, the sleepwalkers, his secrets, and your nightmares. all of them can wait, because everything takes a back seat that night. you no longer fear the dark, because you have known his eyes, and you can only feel warmth. an old worship.

“alright, then.”

( ✶ )

renjun plops down on the study table full of papers and coffee, turning cold. jaemin looks away from the book for a few seconds before going back into his reading as chenle is startled by the clatter of the tomes falling against the wood, casting a furtive glance at the boy before continuing to sleep and jisung appears running through the halls as he arrives late for the afternoon of study. everything goes back on track, but something's missing. he's missing.

you navigate oceans of time and hourglasses, listening to conversations that you don't feel like being part of, admiring the perfect picture that makes up their figures trying to solve puzzles and mini-games, once plagued by terrors, forgotten in the back of their minds. because dreams last, nightmares don't.

“what are we looking for, exactly?” a deja vú sentation even though you remember it. back in the library, jaemin is too busy gazing at the bookshelf to pay attention of you staring at him before pronouncing with certain doubt. “the dreamcatcher.”

jaemin looks at you with some amusement, “having bad dreams again?” you shake your head absently under his gaze. “having any.”

where did your nightmares go?

the nightmare sorter possesses a dark and mysterious power. what were once comforting and pleasant dreams for chenle were transformed into terrifying nightmares. for him, his safe haven was always a dream of the infinite sea, where calm waves and the endless horizon filled him with peace. but irony loomed over his mind, as his worst nightmare involved precisely what he loves the most: facing his own death amidst the waters, a victim of the depths that once provided him solace.

in jaemin's dream, his greatest desire has always been to be everywhere, to experience every corner of the world and absorb every possible experience. but the nightmare sorter toyed with his wish and paralysis became his worst enemy, and being trapped in one place tormented him.

after discovering that jisung had been breaking down sleep barriers to dream about his best friend, he barely spends time with any of you. chenle hasn't dreamed of drowning anymore, but the cost of that is mourning jisung's absence. and you can't help but feel responsible for that.

as these dreams turn into nightmares, you realize that space, in its vastness and mystery, has become the recurring theme of your nighttime fears. you didn't know you loved space so much until your nightmares of falling into the void turned into a journey among the stars.

what was his? vanishing? losing track of time? has he ever tell you?

you're afraid to know the answer. you extend the time of acknowledgment and ignore it as you grab your things in a hurry, hearing jaemin's short good luck when you go out in search of him.

you fear that he has vanished again. you fear having to wait another eternity. you fear that everything will go bad. as your pulse ticks an hourglass in countdown, you try to recompose your runaway heart, hoping that so will time, slipping through your fingers. eternity has always been cruel to you, so do knowledge. time is never enough and you've taken so long, so long to realize it, that you're afraid it's too late.

you've always known where to find him.

you lose the memory of how you end up in front of him, and you're aware that the time you've taken hasn't been kind to him.

“you came.” maybe, just maybe you knew all along because he was calling.

“i know.” but not in the sense of always knowing what the other person has said. to recognize a spoken fact. to gain knowledge. no. to know. you now do.

how the cosmos is his most precious asset. the thing for his entire existence.

“let me look out for you.”

“my narcolepsy...,” he appeals. now you can see him. you've always been able to see him for what he really is and that terrifies him.

the night of the vortex, he was afraid of being trapped in the ether. he was afraid you wouldn't wake him up. the nights he refused to sleep because the threat of being trapped in the rem kept him awake. hasn't he had a rest without fear?

“i know, and i still want to.”

he shakes his head. you terrifies him, and the more he immerses himself in you, the harder it will be to do what he has to do. dreams..., dreams are his most precious asset. the cosmos is what he most desires. there are a hundred million dreamers whose dreams he must collect, for they are as fragile as a crystal sphere, and on him depends the balance of the ethereal world, and that balance has been cracking since he began to let his guard down, for you.

yet he's so selfish, that now he sees you barely here with him, inside your head before turning around his bed and landing your eyes on his dark onyx, fixed on you. “go to sleep,” you say to him in a whisper, “i'll keep them away.”

even though it is dark, you see a flash of a smile. “what if i take too long?” he asks, closing his eyes as he faces the ceiling, as if he could see the moon from there. his hand stops feeling his heartbeat under his ribs, dropping it to the side of his body, inches from yours. “i'll bring you back.” to me.

“how will you know where to find me?”

even though it is dark, he can sense your smile.

“i'll always know where to find you.”

he doesn't say anything for a while, and for a moment you think he has already gone. his body suffers a small involuntary spasm as if struggling to stay awake for a few more minutes, before he rolls towards you and his breath combs loose strands of your hair. “come with me,” he says in a sleepy voice. you manage not to look restless when his fingers brush caresses on yours. your senses beat with the same intensity as your heart, and you fear that he can hear them by being so close. “where?” you wonder, stargazing at his eyes, “to my dreams.”

his words remain suspended longer in your head, resonating until they imitate your pulse, until they expand and get under your skin. a mist settles over your mind, and his voice reciting that invitation is diluted as a sedative effect that does not take long to take effect. there is no point in fighting morpheus. it feels like falling down an abyss and your fingers are squeezed harder between donghyuck's by inertia. you're falling, and falling. 

at first, you only feel the beginning of everything. you feel your heartbeats, you feel your fingers, you feel the place where you are; you are aware of yourself. your eyes record the world unfolding before you, evolving as you become more conscious, like a thinking being, and you know you are in the ether. more than knowledge, you can feel it.

and before you can register it, you plunge into the abyss. like layers, you see worlds and spirals passing in a blur before your eyes. your voice sounds strange as an involuntary sound of awe escapes you, gazing at the hundreds of thousands of golden lights adorning the realm. the existence of the whole being a stark contrast to what you usually see when you fall. so many dreams, so many people coexisting in one place, that you'll never manage to grasp or take them all in.

you feel it before you can see it. your body stops falling and remains suspended, and as donghyuck's face shines through the mist, you think: «not a stranger. friend, lover, enemy.» holding your hands, preventing you from continuing to fall. “let me tell you a story,” he finally say, his raspy voice resonating among the realm, “about the great fall.” seconds pass, or maybe an entire eternity, where his gaze reveals nothing, but you fear that yours might show something: betrayal, before his hands release you from yours without reconsideration, and this time you fall...

towards his dreams.

when you find yourself in that place, you feel as ancient as the stars themselves, and a profound comprehension of everything dawns upon you.

in the realm of divinity, there resided a god whose face remained under a veil. you fear that such beauty is only seen by worthy souls. a being so mighty, yet lonely, who found solace amidst the clouds, weaving worlds, weaving dreams. this god had a love for his dreams so profound that he willed them into existence. two catchers, gatherers of the essence, were crafted to shape the rem, threading benevolent dreams into the very fabric of each slumbering mind. and thus, the cosmos came to life.

you watch the universe unfold before your eyes, creating itself, evolving on the fly, revealing a story, and you're almost certain you can hear donghyuck narrating it.

the dreamcatchers executed their duties and responsibilities with unwavering devotion, protecting the dream world of their creator. the very essence of dreaming hinged on their meticulous craftsmanship, with golden dreams as their finest creations. yet, a peculiar injustice prevailed: they could bestow dreams upon others but were forbidden from experiencing their own. this rule kindled a deep dissatisfaction in the elder of the two. it gazed upon the world from its lofty cloud, bestowing dreams with jealousy, and in secret, it harbored a desire to reshape its reality.

its face, beautiful and eternal, reflects discontent. shrouded in jealousy, the dreamcatcher laments feeling such emotions. it senses the injustice every time it's compelled to bestow good dreams and envies the dreamers whose fate is to protect. its visage grows more withered as it lets these emotions swirl within, losing its luster as they grow to poison its soul. its once delicate hands, which once found solace in crafting shimmering desires, now clench into fists when it departs the serene realm and ventures into the unknown, into the vast universe still destined to expand. and it creates.

however, the dreams it planted in their minds transformed into something else, something it couldn't contain within. they turned dark, malevolent and seeped out of its mind into the universe. morpheus soon noticed that something was amiss. the dreamers had been plagued by dreams whose trail was as dark as the nighttime mist. he called them nightmares.

the dreamcatcher pleaded for its forgiveness, but as a great god, mighty and solitary, morpheus could only sympathize with the dreamers. he banished the dreamcatcher from the dream world, the very dream it had once loved with all its heart. thus, unable to create golden conjectures, unable to dream, and forever plagued by its own creations as punishment for what it had done, the dreamcatcher fell, and fell…

towards the void, towards space, towards the immensity of the ocean.

there is a single door in front of you, and behind it, a bright haze seizes your eyes. your fingers brush against the cold knob before you pass through it. covering your eyes in reflex when a bright light scans you before everything returns to normal, and suddenly you are in a café, at night.

the lights are dim and warm, bathing the space where two dancing figures live. it is then that you hear the soft melody; familiar at the behest, as if you had worshipped it in another lifetime. they do not realize that you are there, observing in detail, because the boy looks singularly like someone whose features you never tend to forget.

“that's my favorite song,” you hear your voice say, but your lips remain sealed. “i know,” he answered, his voice muffled by your hair, and you could recognize that voice anywhere, in any version. “it reminds me of you,” you speak again, through the great hall. a version of yourself, close on the spectrum. you watch her look up until she meets donghyuck's and you hear him ask your other version: “what other things remind you of me?” with curiosity. “brown. and chocolate,” you said.

“mhmm...” the scene blurs. it overlaps with another one that occurred later that night. you keep hearing your voice but now you don't see yourself, you're seeing through. he's so close now, you can sense his warmth colliding against your body as colliding stars. “a teddy bear and a museum.” your eyes close when you feel him pushing inside, filling you with him, drinking his moans that he slowly lets out against your lips. “wood and trees. sunsets and sunny days.” your foreheads presses together when he spread your legs and bring them to his waist, rocking in and out in brief strokes, as his features contort into an struggled frown. “fuck... i'm so close,” he whines biting his lips that you kiss right away.

“milk and pearls. a field of grass and sunflowers, and horses running free.”

you sought his gaze, “so am i”.

your whole world shakes and you are short of breath when you are squeezed and spit elsewhere. you're in a cozy hall, but you're not alone. even agitated and dazed, you can hear it. the sounds he accompanies with guttural exhalations that cause your breathing to get stuck in your throat.

it is revealed before you his body scattered on the sofa, with his head pulled back while his wet and swollen mouth lets out gasps that you want to taste on your tongue. completely vulnerable, at the mercy of someone kneeling in front of him, tasting him. “what other things you can do with that mouth?” he whispers to you, now looking at you from above as his cock twitch in your grip. he rolls his eyes and lolls his head back when you bob down to the base of his girth, and back to the tip, circling the sensitive zone with your tongue. he exhales a chuckle, “fu—ck, star.”

star. as in you. this dream, this particular dream doesn't feel like the others. the others looked real, a piece of collective memory of something greater. a collection that crossed barriers and universes to meet in one place: his head. but why don't you have access to it? why is this the first time you have witnessed them? and is this dream his, or is it yours? before you can take registration you are wrapped in an ethereal mantle, turned into nothingness and returning materially elsewhere.

a party.

you see a version of yourself being dragged by donghyuck away from a boy with puppy eyes and someone else whose gaze shine so brightly that he seems to contain the starry night of that evening in his eyes. “i can find my way out on my own, cretin,” you hear you hissed at him, trying to get rid of him to no avail. “you are a jerk. i want you to know that.” you kept ranting as he led you both to the exit, “you bumbling buffoon, always have to mess things up. how i hate you,” you blurted out, seeing that they were past the exit.

“the exit is that…”

“shut the fuck up,” it seems like a deja vú now, when his eyes finally look at you, becoming a witness and not a watcher anymore. “what is going o...?” you say, before he interrupts you, “what were you doing kissing mark?” he asks, fuming.

your laughter fill the air but it doesn't feel like you “you don't tell me what to do, idiot,” you finally say. “do what you want,” he muttered, his face coming dangerously close to yours, a contest of who murdered the other with a stare began. “but do it out of my damn party,” he whispered. his breath tickling your cheeks.

“you're like this because i kissed mark instead of you?” the boy looks at you with surprise and concern in his eyes, staring at you eternally as you're now in control of your body. “w-what?” stutter, before you grab him by the neck and bring him closer to you, joining your lips with his.

the scene evaporates, and their bodies swirl like thick haze spilling into a dark room, where your bodies lay, intertwine. donghyuck's lips devours your mouth fervently with hungry kisses. wanting to appease a long-held desire. wanting to stop a flood of suppressed emotions. his movements becoming erratic, clumsy, desperate. trying to melt into each other, trying to kiss everywhere, touch everywhere. his hips thrusting into your hips in an unexpected movement. feeling his erection against your belly.

your hands run through his chest, shoulders, and neck, until getting into his dark hair, hearing a moan die in your half-open mouth. his body hovers over yours, legs wrapping around his waist as a flame burning in your chest, numbing your common sense, letting yourself be carried away by desire.

“say my name,” you whisper in his ear, “please.”

he towers over you, in all its glory, flexing the muscles that jump under his smooth cinnamon skin. looking at you affectionately with his brown orbs, you can't help but soften you as your hand goes to his cheek, urgent. “yn,” he pronounces.

his voice has always caused you to have mixed feelings, but this time something was missing. it wasn't his voice. it was him. someone else's donghyuck. of some version of you that you wish you could be. better, kinder, less broken.

his lips deposit a kiss on your wrist. brown locks tickling you in instances before wrapping you in his warm gaze, full of cherish that in some inexplicable way has traveled through entire cosmos and has been shared, passed and given to each one of them, to look at you the way they looked at you in every parallels. but you can't stay with him.

“i promised him i'd find him.”

“who?”

“my donghyuck.”

how much time passes, in which you are nothing and everything? in which you see yourself in all your versions, while you vanish like sea foam and slip between his consciousness.

crossing the limbo that inhabits the cosmos in its search, you find the blurred line that separates this world. just a fragile and brittle barrier that houses the dense core of nightmares, containing the thick essence of terrors trapped, far, far away from his dreaming. nightmares from all places, collected from all the sleepers trapped in the one place he thought they'd be out of the reach of the dreamers, in his little ether, having to carry them, for how long?

there is no way to see through it. your breath condenses in the air between as the black mist lashes against the barrier, before stirring until it petrifies again due to the low temperatures. darkness and shadow reigning at the touch of your fingers, its eerie dance a mimicry of something unsettling, moving strangely, as if imitating…

“a black hole.”

your dream. your nightmare. your taciturn lover.

converted in front of you into what you fear most, having self-consciousness to be able to see within, taking your deepest fears and making them its own. the tick essence moves when you touch the barrier. it contracts against itself before evaporating and vanishing into nothing, forming a wormhole where you can see through donghyuck standing on the other side.

your body reacts on its own.

your hands sting when they impact against the cold frozen glass that eats the skin of your palms. “donghyuck.” it's too cold there. your breath condenses in front of you when you call his name, the awakening of knowledge when you notice it comes from the other side. cold, vast, arid. “donghyuck!” the shadow retracts, the haze disperses, and you know it's him. however, it gives in immediately and the dark essence regains strength. it has a will of its own, and you're terrified to know that it has more power than you think. a glorious creation out of control, impossible to contain.

you despair with every passing second and your efforts are futile. breaking the glass is not possible. You're afraid you're not really there. unable to alter the ethereal world, you are just a projection in the space.

your mind races at a thousand revolutions, quickly grasping what that means. you look into the darkness, and the darkness seems to look back at you, before it seems to call you to it, and you respond by becoming more than dust.

your senses stretch and intertwine in a spiral that lulls you into semi-unconsciousness as you stir in your dreams. present, not present. materially, fleetingly. all. nothing. before the icy touch on your arm pulls you out of the planet of dreams. you blink adjusting your sight just to watch a small figure at the foot of your bed.

“mommy.” it takes a while to get used to the environment, completely dizzy and confused, pulling you out of your slumber almost immediately and shooting your body upright the moment you sense him whimpering. “jisoo, sweetheart...” how do you know his name? how are you so certain that you know him, taking him in your arms and comforting him as if you were made created solely for that purpose. to protect him. “i dreamt bad things,” he confesses, rubbing his eyes as you bring him with you under the covers.

you remain silent, stroking his back and hair, lost in your head. with the feeling that you're forgetting something. you look over your shoulder and only find the space next to you empty. your lips leave a small kiss on the crown of his head. “don't worry, love.”

jisoo stands still in your arms as his words linger in your head, echoing in every recessed corner of your soul, gnawing at your insides, and you can't help but feel devastated. you want, you fervently desire to take his nightmares out of him, take them with you, carry them on you. you could use your own soul as a shield, if it meant he never knew that sorrow. “what was your nightmare about, darling?” you whisper in his ear, promising to seek for it in every corner of the cosmos, until it is reduced to little less than nothing.

his little deer eyes glow in the dark like two shiny stars, bright. his sweet little voice speaks, and all your nerve endings tighten so tightly that it hurts when he pronounces, “about you.”

the room fades away, and you're unsure if it's by your will or that of the terrors. someone screams in the distance as your eyes remain closed, reluctant to look further, all the while sensing that your fear is no longer yours but belongs to it. how can it know? how is it so aware? the space grows cold, and you huddle against it to keep its cold fingers at bay, but it envelops you in its arms, and grief and despair settle in your stomach as it takes you with it. it smells of night, of a sky stripped of stars, of endless darkness. you feel a certain comfort, a certain familiarity. the screams cease when you discover it was you in the beginning, now reduced to barely audible sobs that find solace as it shushes you.

the mist solidifies, and you sense the change as your face now presses against a soft yet firm surface, feeling the weight of their arms supporting you. nightmare carries you with it, and your terrors dissipate. you hear a snort followed by a chuckle as you feel your arms wrapping around him, tighter. “tired of screaming, sweetheart? too bad, i'd rather hear them some other time.” their voice is like a liquid storm, like the nocturnal wind. it resembles nothing you've heard before; a night in wakefulness, but above all, it's not like his.

“there's a great feast here, don't you think?” he asks, feeling him permeate everywhere but holding you close to make sure you stay with him.  when you look at him, vague memories start to take shape in your mind, like fragments of a forgotten dream. an uncomfortable feeling envelops you, and recognition grows, crystallizing into a solid image. you've seen this figure before, in the alley, amidst darkness and shadows. you vividly remember what he did to those men, the terror that emanated from him. “time to wake up.”

you're on the verge of letting him take you along, on the verge of allowing yourself to wake up.

“no!” your voice comes out stronger than you expect, causing the nightmare to recoil and look at you with subtle surprise. his hair sways unrealistically like the waves of a sea entirely of the cosmos, and his head tilts back as he listens to you. “he won't mind. he's trapped.” it would be so easy to just leave, to leave him at the mercy of the night terrors. but you can't be surprised when you shake your head, and he shrugs, showing indifference, “your loss.” and vanishes.

the mist stirs as though it greets your return with eager delight. you willingly descend into the unruly tempest, offering yourself as sacrificial allure. donghyuck missed a crucial chapter in the tale. of how the nightmares rebelled against the nightmare sorter, an unceasing thirst for its very essence, an unrelenting, perpetual duty to purvey dreams stolen with a reluctant hand from dreamers, bereft of alternatives. all in the relentless pursuit of quelling its own terrors, to appease its nightmares and prevent them from consuming it.

the swirl of bad dreams roars around you, making your way through the indomitable, self-aware blackness. a creature created out of darkness. no vestiges of giving truce and claiming their new trophy. your trophy. a gold mine compared to the rest. golden dreams as its bearer. you can almost feel the hunger of your peers, awake. you can almost feel your own. the sensations that come back like poison clouding your judgment. it hovers over you almost imposible to see the light, calling you from the depths.

inside the matter is different. your body barely manages to stay on land, even your hair moves like the waves of a dark wave. above, high above your head, you observe his body disturbingly still, and your feet stop skimming the ground to close the space between both.

he casts a golden light almost extinguished. he sleeps where dreams run awake.

“hyuck.” his face seems to have aged a thousand years. your hands brush against his dull and lifeless features, and you are afraid that you are late. “hyuck, wake up.” the dark scenery reveals itself ecstatic, and a tingle rises up your spine as it falls into the realization of what it meant. “no.” it is too late. you've taken too long to find him, and nightmares have claimed him as theirs.

you have broken your promise.

he now belongs to us.

they have overpowered you. they've beaten you in numbers. that being who mocks you cannot be right. it's not; that conscious darkness belongs to you.

“i made you.”

“we are more.”

“no, you're not,” you reply with mockery, “you are what i tell you to be.” the voices fall silent, and the scent they emit clouds your sense of smell. disappointment. sadness. mourning. fear. “you're not here.”

the darkness disperses into a scream that echoes to the ends of the realm as you feel the warm wake of donghyuck's hand perching on yours. his fingers tangle in yours, just as his presence. his breath hits the hidden place on your neck when you hug him for an eternity. inmersed in each other.

“is this where you go, when you're asleep?” you inquire, helping him to get up. “i need to stay here as long as i'm need to,” he explains, too distracted to let go of your hand.

“you shouldn't have entered here,” he adds, reproachfully.

“why did you?”

“i have duties,” he says with an uncommon tone. mortified. hopeless. imprinting a wild emotion, he enunciates every word with them, “i have dreams to take care of.”

“and who takes care of you?”

“i'm fine.” but he's not. when his eyes close to your touch, and his eyebrows gather in a restrained emotion pressing his cheek against your palm for more contact you know he's not. “i made a promise.”

“so did i.” as his gaze spills into yours, his lips burn for saying that he has been looking for you all over the universe. in all parallels. that he would never have dared to enter the tangle of nightmares if he had not believed you were inside it. that you weren't the only one who fell that instance, lost now in the eternal realm, because he followed you. but he keeps it to himself, and instead, he lets himself be carried away by the cooing of your touch, by the softness of your voice, telling him to go home.

as the ethereal shroud unfurls from around you, you're unsure whether mere hours have passed or an entire eternity. you feel the world spin, and it takes a significant effort to pry your eyes open. despite having slept, you're weary as if a thief has stolen your sleep. “the effect will linger for a bit,” you hear his drowsy voice instructing, pulling you from your reverie. how long were you inside his mind? how many days have passed since you went to sleep?

“don't dwell on it too much. it's better not to know.” your eyes open slowly, reinvigorated by his voice rousing you from slumber. it's then that you notice his fingers tracing through the strands of your hair.

the line that once stood wavering is now too blurred to tell when it was crossed, an eternity ago, as you inhale the comforting scent of home that emanates from his body, cradling yours. “how did you do it?” you hear yourself ask, too exhausted to feel intrusive. the dream you now cradle like a relic, forged by his golden threads, turning the darkness into something less than a place where the stars would shine brighter. you sense his chest vibrate as he makes a brief sound in his throat, a sign that he is listening despite being more in the realm of dreams than there with you. “i've known you since i was born.”

he watches you with a multitude of suppressed emotions as you ascend his body and hover above him, your hair cascading like the nightly cloak that always envelops him when he's lost in his dreams. his gaze weaves stars and conjectures as he forms two crescents while smiling with weariness, and longing clouds your judgment.

“how did you know where to find me?” he asks.

as though the constellations themselves had liquefied, trickling into his gaze, your responds “i've known it since i was born.”

your lips spill your essence onto his in a cautious yet passionate encounter. the world recedes, and all at once, the kiss assumes the flavors of countless others, a collective memory. and yet, his lips are the only ones you've been craving all along. your heart beats with a more deliberate cadence, mirroring the unhurried rhythm of the universe as his hands echo the gentle contours of your face feeling his lips parting slightly upon yours, each kiss becoming deeper, each kiss becoming eternal. your mouths unite in the obscurity, an unceasing communion, causing time to unravel and elongate until the boundary between you and him becomes an indistinct, boundless continuum.

donghyuck deposits you back into the comfort of his bed, descending on you until his body is mated to yours. lips and teeth taste your mouth. the elixir of liquid stars savored on your tongue. you cling to his body completely drunk on his longing-flavored kisses. hands tangling in his hair pulling him closer to you, mouths merging in a metamorphosis of tongues and gasps, willing to safeguard each other's sigh rather than break the kiss for air.

his tresses tickle your cheeks, his eyelashes caress your cheekbones and his hands have not left your face. you fear you are being devoured with each kiss deposited on your lips, with the taste of his tongue on yours. you fear that you could become nothing.

you feel his body melt over yours. a gasp leaves his lips extinguished in your mouth as your hands venture down his broad shoulders and arms, firm yet delicate. you hold your breath as his body moves over yours, taking your hands in his above your head as his hips sink against yours. he presses down, rocking against you in an involuntary motion while still kissing you. “star.” his voice wreaks havoc on you, causing a pit to appear in your belly, pushing you down.

clothes begin to get in the way and become scarce. his fingers leave trails wherever he roams, your chest, your belly, until they hover around your legs, touching the inside of your thighs as he drinks your moans from your mouth, bristling your skin. feeling his silky chiseled body move over you, mingling with yours, permeating every corner of you with his presence.

your breath catches as you hear him growl as he rolls onto the bed, pulling away from you. your body burns in the places where he no longer touches you, your lips burn in protest against his.

“what is it?” his shortness of breath mingles with the anguish that assails you when he doesn't speak to you.

meditative, lost, tormented. he's never only in one place. he's everywhere. scattered in other heads, aware of all of them. in vigil. and sometimes, they don't leave him alone, unable to get rid of them, destined always to carry the conscience of dreams, and so, nightmares.

as a struggle takes place in the universe where he's conscious, your hands cradle his face and for an instant, “focus on me.” he hides like a moon phase in the hidden place of your neck, drawing you to him like an anchor that keeps him with you, pulling you onto his lap, you end up sitting in each other's embrace. “hyuck, stay with me.” until his worries become as small as an applesauce that you can push away from his shoulder.

until he finds his way back to you.

and so his mouth.

entangled. a jumble of gasps and glances that seem to repeat each other's name. a religion founded on his lips pressing against your collarbone and his fingers burying themselves in your waist. sucking the bristling skin of his shoulders, the soft skin of his neck, the sweet and comforting scent of his lips, drinking in the other's panting as his length presses against the hot zone of your core. lifting you above him as you feel him venture beneath you, as you feel his fingers wrap around your girth and guide it to brush against you, as you feel yourself spreading up, giving him room as you lower yourself onto it all the way to the base.

both of you furrow your brows at the pleasurable sensation. sensing his member fit snugly wrapped around your silky walls. the hole tingles from you and you bite your lip, feeling full and blissful as donghyuck's hand presses into your belly. you arch involuntarily pushing back your hips. and consequently, moving forth over his lap.

a hiss departs from his lips before his features relax and a pant follows your name that you taste from his mouth open. 

the sounds emerge and fill the room. the touch of your bodies mixes with the gasps. the stars in the sky mingle with the stars in your eyes, and your mouths speak each other's name between kisses until the vast infinity remembers you. little moans and whimpers that you bite from his mouth, that die in yours. precious, like him. tinged with adoration, with need. your body vibrates and enjoys his beneath you, burying itself with each thrust of your hips, stealing your breath as his find yours first, touching the sweet spot inside that give their purpose when your head tilts back and it is impossible to keep your eyes on his daydream eyes.

the firmness of his erection presses against your walls as you rock back and forth, stiff but so soft it slides out before your fingers guide it back into you. you revel in his face fading into the raw pleasure that splices his body. pink lips and bitten a thousand and one times by your mouth. silent guttural sounds you've been deprived of for an eternity.

enernity. eternity.

the world is shrinking. it ends. it resurfaces in the same way that your exhalations soak your mouths. in which your hands are lost in his silky hair and his in your intimacy. suffering a spasm when his graceful fingers begin to trace circles in the swelling of your clitoris, and his warm tongue wraps around one of your erect nipples.

no needs for words. there isn't a language yet invented that can encapsulate the feeling the way your mouths do, nor another way to talk than your eyes, gazing at each other.

you comb his hair, untangling dreams from his head, drugged in the delight of his touch to the beat of your hips riding him. the silky sounds of your dilated pussy coating his cock, ramming completely enraptured by the sensation generated by the liquid sound of your ecstasy sliding and lubricating his length, feeling it hit the soft wall inside you when you go down completely and begin to ride him with short strokes that he controls with his hands on your waist.

you try to suppress the unconscious sounds you let out every time he sinks into you at his pick-up pace accompanied by the liquid splash of your crotch lubricating his cock. donghyuck notices the struggle that blurs your gaze just by looking at you.  “keep doing like that, precious,” he exhales and your hands go to his on your waist, suddenly dazed by his mere voice. “mm-hm, like that.” his voice cuts off at the end of the sentence into a strangled vowel when your insides squeeze around him in a spasm.

you squeal and hold tighter on his hands sensing your whole insides glow. “baby.” the hole in your belly expands and shot euphoria through your bloodstream, and donghyuck holds you closer, til you can hear his heartbeat, or is it yours? a desperate sound leaves your mouth parted open as your legs go numb and your mind spreads in the space. and his grip becomes tighter, “h-hyuck.” your body jolts back and forth along his length buried in your walls and a tingle bathes your limbs. and as the sensation expands towards the edge of the universe, and the stars spills into you as he lets out your name caught between one last exhausted moan, and you fall, asleep.

and it happens. all at once. at the same time.

the memories you've been deprived of as punishment. to be completely alone in the vast infinity, now filled with extracts of essence collected from different places from a shared conscious of you, in all alternate universes with his presence. feeling completely comforted that there are other stories, where everything is simpler, where love prevails in most of them. where there are a thousand and one scenarios where you and donghyuck always manage to find each other.

this piece of consciousness that was long stripped of you, as if morpheus knew that leaving you alone with your own nightmares wouldn't punish enough, he also took away your memories with donghyuck. he let you forget him and distrust him, and you couldn't conceive which part of the punishment was worse: to be the one who forgets, or to be the one who is forgotten.

it takes you a while to get used to the uncovering of memories from a collective memory. as you are now aware of everything around you. and yet, the dilemma of whether it's a dream or a reality still remains.

“dream?” you ask him, so close to his face you can see his moles forming a little constellation. your little constellation.

“dreamlike.”

you bet his dreams taste exquisite but his lips taste more so.

( ✶ )

you feel it before you can hear it. the change in matter that floats around you. join in total alertness, while you continue your work as if you don't notice the way your hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. humming a stray song while trying to sharpen what your subconscious tells you to pay attention to, but only a fraction of a second has passed, and the intruder is gone again.

he's been coming for three nights now. at first, you felt something detach from your chest, the absence where it once was now with a hole that threatened to eat itself. a silky, cold sensation that slips away into the starless night. you can't help but think it's due to a collateral action after donghyuck showed you the dreaming, and stole you from his embrace that never failed to rip you from morpheus, so you could rest on his instead.

your steps take you back to the cozy room and to the tangle of legs and sheets in which you had managed to emerge victorious a few hours ago. something flutters in your chest as you watch him sleep peacefully, oblivious to the anguish that grips your insides as you imagine this same scenario without you. sleeping, trapped in the ether. you're not capable of aging, you doubt that you're not eternal, but time has always been your rival. and while he sleeps, time narrows, expands, moves.

all this time he's been away, he's only been asleep. and you don't find anything sadder than that, you don't find any comfort in knowing it either. because without him, the cosmos protector, dreams run wild. affordable, manipulable, fragile. tender, like the soft skin exposed by his sweatpants, golden as his touch. tempting, like his wet mouth, part open. vulnerable, such as the area behind his ears.

all this time, you were looking out for his dreams.

your lips sit on the warm skin of his stomach and it takes all your willpower not to venture out, just far enough away to go up to his chest and caress his collarbones. kisses deposited in the valley of his neck until you reach his cheeks.

“wake up.” the room stay still. you hold your breath.

before your eyes register the awakening. slowly coming out of the ether, his eyelashes fluttering with the laziness of someone who is still drowsy. you leave a chaste kiss on his cheeks, suddenly pink-tinged and find yourself doubting whether he's able to stay aware of what's going on with his body when he's lost somewhere else.

it takes seconds for him to recover from his trip to the stars, where he receives everything you give him: water, in case he gets thirsty, a half-finished sandwich and headache pills. you look at him with urgency as the sandwich is finished and you can't find his movements so endearing, especially when he grabs you by the cheeks and his lips leave a tender kiss on your mouth.

his body returns to the cozy nest that the sheets form with you. he kisses you urgently, eyes darkening at the sight of you, out of breath because, you had spent so much time fearing darkness when now it only reminds you of him. “how's the dreaming?,” you ask, cradling his face. “so fucking long,” he mutters before you're kissed again.

your body is trapped underneath his and you can't help but melt with every caress his fingers leave as he settles between your legs while slowly kissing you. lips splitting in a moan to make room for his silky tongue sliding into your needy mouth. your senses are wriggled in a bundle of sensations that explode after a long time without him. your skin crawls. and he slides his fingers along your stomach.

you're embarrassed that he knows how much you've missed him. how ecstatic you are just for a few kisses because you've been without them for a fraction of eternity. he suppresses a curse when you feel so silky, “so wet.” fingers smoothly sliding down your folds as his lips drift off to your exposed neck. your mouth opens in a silent gasp as you feel his digits move in circles in the swollen area of your pussy.

a sweet sensation forms there where he touches. you're out of breath. a smile forming in your lips that he tastes later with this mouth. your feelings are wired at the destructive kiss, melting you entirely. you couldn't resist the moans, coming from your mouth as a prayer that only he could fulfill. as your body twirled from his touch, wanting more.

“hyuck.” your stomach feels on fire. your whole body buzzes to his fingers slowly stimulating your clit. “keep saying my name like that.” your body arches involuntarily as you feel the embers come down to your crotch and slide into your legs, completely devastated.

dying moans as dying stars. needy. eager. your hands fisted in his chest while his fingers venture dangerously down before feeling them inserting inside.

his fingers expanding you as he adjusts them within your walls release a pleasant sensation that makes your eyes roll behind your eyelids. “so tight, star.” a hiss assails you when you feel your skin tingling the moment he starts to pump his digits in you, “i can't wait to fuck you.”

he exhales when your fingers travel to your clit. hands now touching while his are inside you. the brief touches of your skins cause a shiver to run through your entire body. his voice is ten times darker than before, deep and filled with raw desire, “feels good?” fingers curling gently while constantly stroking your sensitive wall. “too— good.”

you missed him. you missed him an entire lifetime. as his fingers wreak havoc on you and his voice tells you how pretty you are, your whole body reacts in electricity, shooting on your bloodstream, reaching your belly. “you take my fingers so well, mhm?” donghyuck feels the waves on his fingers still moving inside while you pass your high.

he lets out a hearty laugh when your fingers travel to his body, needily removing his clothes. you don't really care that he knows how much you crave him. how much your body calls his name. how much it hurts you to want him inside. he rejoices to see you undress him and take off your pajamas and panties yourself, how willing you are for him to fuck you.

he spreads your legs and enjoys the sight of your swollen and flushed pussy soaking his fingers.

you hear him moaning under his breath, “i want to taste you, baby. fuck, i need it so bad.” his words wreak havoc on your lower belly, and you find yourself squeezing nothing; you want it too.

he devours you completely, and your breath is choppy only with his mouth working miracles on your already sensitive folds. his breath hits the right area that makes your eyes close tightly, and exhale with difficulty, “you taste so good after i fingered you.” his tongue moves over the hard skin of your clit and you swear you're about to combust.

your hands tangle in his hair as the lashes of his tongue take your breath away. his warm breath flushes all over your skin as he opens his mouth and starts sucking gently. your throat feels pasty when a moan reverberates in your chest as you feel a sharp tingle in your belly. “shit,” you pant, feeling your stomach tighten and your whole body sinking into the mattress. senses going numb to donghyuck humming in delight against your skin before he feels your body convulse slightly, and quickly using his warm palm to keep your legs from closing when a sharp sensation rip you apart. “take it. take me.”

a strangled sound comes out of your mouth before you feel your body sink into violent spasms. the raw desire injected into your bloodstream is too much for you to process in one go, leaving you completely light and inebriated, tense and contorted under his heavy gaze, drinking the sight of your naked body still suffering the aftermath of his acts on you.

something glows behind his dilated pupils when you recover your blurry sight. watching him hovering over you, you looked in his eyes, two dark orbs, consumed entirely by the pupil; a black hole that you wouldn't mind falling into.

a guttural grunt escapes his lips as he feels your fingers curl around his wet girth. you stifle a gasp as you feel it hard. hands moving up and down, stroking his dick as exerting pressure. feeling his delicate cock warm and soft, you gently stimulate it. donghyuck's head falls forward, and you bite your lip, delighting in the sight of his blushing penis, glistening with precum pearls.

“say that you want me,” he utters, “that i'm yours.”

words get stuck in your throat, you feel a rush of ecstasy when you guide him in, watching him being affected by you when he slides fully. “we belong to each other.”

you can only let yourself be carried away by the uncontrolled sensation caused by his cock deliciously entering inside. a sweet burn takes your breath away as you feel him so thick, settling inside you, pressing against your aroused walls. a tremor shakes your legs when he stands still for you to adjust around him; his lips are part open absorbing the way your nerves clenched around him, your fingers squeeze around the tender skin of his arms when you feel him push inward.

you feel so overwhelmed that your legs don't respond to your stimuli, completely, irrevocably, eagerly at his will.

a deep moan escapes from his lips. “you feel good,” he whispers as you feel him starting to thrust you. a hiss assails you, still sore from his fingers, “i'll be gentle.”

his mouth leaves moist kisses on yours half-open, unable to generate a single coherent thought other than the arcane pleasure that welcomes you every time you feel him sliding in and out, steady. sharply. “so good for me.” he adds in a moan, a hidden feeling of belonging while passionately pounding you: «just for me». “soaking my dick so g-good, taking me so good— oh,” he murmurs, twitching his face, “always wet and tight no matter how much i fuck you, huh?” he breathes heavily against you open mouth before he traps your lower lip in his teeth.

his tongue enters your mouth and makes you feel all the voracious desire he has to make you his, imprinted in his kisses, in the way his fingers bury themselves in your soft skin while his girth is buried into you over and over, leaving you breathless.

your voice, clouded by the euphoria that is unleashed in your stomach, can barely hiss with a deep groan “f-feels good.” your cheeks are wet, eyes under the haze of tears of pleasure that involuntarily shake you when he pushes against your intimacy. your eyes open only to take record of him, looking so hauntingly beautiful. holy. eyes clouded by the simmering desire in his dilated pupils as he admires you take his cock, letting out all these emotions he feels at the same time in moans and grunts that delight your ears every time he sinks into you.

“mine.”

“always—, my yn.”

a pride catches you knowing that you are his.

his tongue enters your mouth and makes you feel all the voracious desire he has to make you his, imprinted in his kisses, in the way his fingers bury themselves in your soft skin while his girth is buried into you over and over, leaving you breathless.

a demolished feeling shaking your body under his heavy gaze when he wraps his arm under your thighs and brings them to your ribs. your whole self fixed in the way he fucks you deeper. “o-oh shit,” you shudder. “you're d-doing so good.” he hovers over you with an exhale, “soaking wet for me,” pressing you against the mattress, his dick hammers your cunt sharply, causing your eyes to slam shut. your drenched pussy accompanies his thrusts with the lascivious sound of your arousal coating his girth every time it goes in and out. feeling his warm breath in your ear as he slams his pelvis rhythmically into you, taking exhales with each thrust. “oh— fuck.” it feels so good. he feels so good. you're a whole mess of thoughts, speechless. a jumble of gasping and sobbing and yet the only thing that comes from your mouth is his name in your shaky voice.

“you're making me feel so— good calling my name.” donghyuck opens his mouth to let out a wild growl that causes your legs to tremble. his eyes are two pools that take you to the abyss. blushing with labored breathing, your neck burns when you are aware that it is because of you. feeling your swollen pussy throbbing with sharp pleasure, which tears your belly at him constantly hitting every nerve in you.

his expert moves shift your body with ease. he puts you in different positions that cause screams in you. completely carried away by the crushing of his pelvis pounding you, rough and raw. “hyuck!” a pant of surprise assails you at the simple thought of him shifting you in a heartbeat before your thoughts get messy and lose the thread when you sense the warm feeling of him inside you again, stretching you with smoothness every time. arching your back as a silent moan burns in your throat.

you want him closer. you want him to shatter you.

your fingers tangle in his hair as you feel his hands hug your waist. your legs roll up slightly at his hips, pelvis suspended inches from the mattress.  you roll your eyes when you feel him still erect slipping inside you and pressing his tip against a weird but delicious angle. you're completely numb. your fingers go to the base of his penis, wetting your fingers with the creamy ring that formed the constant hammering on you. staying in the same position when you feel him insert it all the way in, the rubbing of your fingers sending shivers down your spine.

“just like that, baby,” you whisper under your breath as donghyuck penetrates you again and again, slowly, passionately, hissing under the pressure of your fingers wrapped around his circumference. “fucking me so g-good.” you feel his body buzz with each powerful stroke. every second he takes between thrusts, feeling it the pleasure runs through his length.

his mouth lets out a beautiful strangled growl. so possessed, so bewitched. the purest ecstasy fluttering in his eyes as he sees the point where your bodies meet. you're imprisoned under his heavy gaze drinking the sight of your naked body still suffering the aftermath of his actions on you while sharply stroking his dick in and out, watching your tits bouncing with each move.

“so gorgeous. you're so gorgeous.”

moans died and were reborn into stars twinkling in your vision, leaving in their wake your broken body as donghyuck turned up the intensity. his movements rougher by having more stability, bending you until your thighs touch his hips and your head lolls back into the mattress.

“let me fuck you right, star” his unwrapping thrusts drove you to edge of your sanity. a silky-smooth feeling filling your mind, the melody of your voices, a feeling of delight took root in your abdomen, tightening, wanting to be released from you.

you clenched and grithe your teeth. your walls pulsating each time he comes in and out, steady, consistent while you're a mess of tears and sighs. “hold it, love,” he coaxes, and no matter how tired you were, it wouldn't be enough. there was no end to your satisfaction when it comes to him. you'd burn your body to keep him warm if he asks you to.

his deep thrusts feel delicious. a tingling runs through you and embalms your body with a numbing sensation. the space absorbed your essence as your stomach tightened and your back arched into a frenzy. flushed, he rocks his cock back and forth into you as he puts pressure on the grip that holds your legs spread when you try to pull away because you feel a lot, everything, like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. letting out a whimper when you're overpowered by him.

“h-hyuck, p-please. i'm cumming.”

you're so close, a thousand emotions going through your mind. feeling him reaching out your spot, over and over, causing an explosion of suppressed pleasure. feeling the mixture of both arousal causing damp sounds every time he hammers you, joining your breathy moans in the steamy air between your bodies. “i want to cum with you.” his body tenses and your body shake, “tell me when, love.” you make a fist the sheets in your hands, arching your back closer to him. “f-fuck!” your eyes close tightly and your pasty throat let out a scream, legs closing around his hips as his thick grith grinds inside you until he brakes suddenly and his cock twitch wrapped by your walls before it starts to pulsate erratically along your nerves.

his mouth leaves a trail of bites and kisses down your stomach until it goes up your chest. he stays still inside you until you stop pulsating around his cock coated in your arousal, and then, he slides out before he pumps it back and forth a few times more. your body jolts and vibrates as he finishes covering your body with marks from his lips. his hands tangle behind your waist, drawing you towards him, leaving your legs to fall sore around his waist.

you feel his cum slide along to his cock when he pulls it out. breath bathing your face when you join your foreheads and catch your breath. delighting in the full sensation left by your bodies together, intertwined, merged into each other. a gentle caress brushes your tummy when he draws circles with his thumb. pressing a kiss on your shoulder as he drift down. mouth replacing hands, caresses turning into kisses. you sense him fixed on your intimacy before he lifts from the bed.

“hyuck.”

“right here, star.” you feel coming back again, a slight touch in your body, and him disappearing again. you don't know how much time has passed till you come back to your senses, in a bathtub, drunk and sleepy. “tired?” he says, suddenly blushing. “mhm.” your eyes close involuntarily, but you open them again when you feel his mouth pressing against yours. “sorry,” you say hesitantly, taking notice of his messy hair traced by your fingers and his neck marked by your mouth. he kisses you softly, exhaling when he feels your hands on his nape, bringing him closer. “aren't you coming?”

“i wish i could…” but he's been asleep for so long. his life paused while he was away. you can't expect him to leave his life aside just so you can have waking moments with him. “don't think that.”

you laugh.

“think, what?”

“that i want to be somewhere else but with you when i'm awake.” you deny.

“i love being with you while you sleep,” you assure him, “you don't owe me anything.”

“jisung is out there.” he murmurs. “would you be okay for a few hours?” he wants to know.

you don't know if you have to tell him about nightmare. he's never posed a real threat, but not having him with you can't mean anything good. you've been cautious, hoping that next time he'll stay longer, allow you to put him back in the empty place of the small cosmos where he belongs, but he remains just as cautious, and his ephemeral visits only bring with them the promise of being able to consume golden dreams.

golden dreams that you've been watching while their wearer is vulnerable.

your fingers run their moles over the golden skin of his face, gliding down to his neck where the constellation continues. you nod absentmindedly, soothing yourself with his now bright eyes.  “something's wrong?”

his eyes are worried, and you see him watching you more closely to find out what's troubling you. “it's just... it must be tiring. lonely,” you correct later, “i wish i could give you dreams like you do with me because... it must feel lonely.”

his lips curl up with fondness. “it doesn't.” he muses. “i get to see the dreams of other dreamers, i can see the dreams of every version of me, and when i do, i don't feel so alone, because you are always there, with me.”

where you put this grief, this guilt, where there is a room to contain it.

you can't. there isn't.

“be careful.”

you watch him disappear through the bathroom door, his essence slowly fading into the light air as you sink your head under the water to chase away the evil thoughts swirling around your head.

warm water numbs your muscles stiff with worry. everything becomes silent underwater. even your head. as the seconds of oxygen run out, your mind clears.

jaemin has been studying rem for months now, if there's anyone who knows about this besides donghyuck it's him. you'll ask him about nightmare. there won't be need to involve donghyuck into this.

there a shift in the water, you sense a subtle change in the warm water wrapping you. your hands take a foothold on the slippery ceramic of the tub to get out underwater. eyes opening in a strange instinct, encountering nothing but darkness staying still above you, before it attacks you. panic takes hold as a viscous substance infiltrates your nostrils, constricting your airways in a suffocating grip. a coiling serpent of fear, constricting your muscles as it winds its way down your throat.

but just as it seems that darkness might claim you, the sensation of drowning vanishes. you burst forth from beneath the water's surface, gasping for breath, your chest heaving with the urgency of survival. your wide eyes search the water's depths, yet all you find is the undisturbed and tranquil surface, bearing no trace of the harrowing struggle that unfolded below.

you feel trapped in a whirlwind of emotions as you watch everything unfold automatically. your body moves on its own, as if it's disconnected from your consciousness. consternation consumes you from within, and you know jisung must be dreaming again, blurring the lines between reality and nightmares. and now donghyuck goes straight to it. your steps quicken, resonating like the racing pulse under your ribs as you glide through the bookstore's corridors.

no one pays attention to you; they’re either asleep in their table or too busy to watch the girl almost running as she turns in a corner. you come across jaemin standing in front of chenle’s sleeping figure at the table. his eyes dart away as if they've detected your presence, and a smile forms on his face. however, your eyes fail to see it because they travel towards the creature beside him, eclipsing the dim light of the bookstore with its smile. you feel ancestral panic inject into your bloodstream when you realize jaemin can see it too, “oh, this is jeno.” all the blood migrates from your face, and his smile widens further.

you see him take a few steps, closing the gap between you without being able to do anything about it, frozen in anticipation. his hand reaches out to you. “a pleasure,” he says in a husky voice. he's here. really, physically. “you shouldn't be here...” you whisper, causing his eyebrows to shoot up, showing his surprise. his hand rests on his chest, “i'm just helping a friend with his nightmare problem.”

his countenance exudes a sense of contentment, while yours surrenders abruptly to the bitter taste of defeat. you watch as he takes his place, engaged in casual conversation with jaemin, a scenario that strains your credulity. jeno assumes the mantle of an ordinary young man, laughter and jests flowing freely, a potent elixir of mirth that might, under different circumstances, have coaxed laughter from your lips if it weren't for the incessant pounding of your heart, staying alert to his movements. when his hands move suddenly, but only to pick up a pencil. when his body makes an unexpected movement, but only to settle into his seat. your breath oscillates in agony, measured in agonizing intervals just before jaemin goes for a book and leave you both alone.

a chuckle ripples through his chest as you guide him toward a desolate corner. “one of my dreams,” you hear him jest.

“stay away from him.”

“don't let jealousy cloud your judgment, my dearest,” he coos, his hand daring to cradle his chin, only to meet your swift rebuff and unyielding gaze. “i'm deadly serious, you... should not be here,” you insist, observing as he takes a contemplative pause, morphing his countenance into an unsettling neutrality that sends involuntary shivers down your spine. yet, the sight of his sardonic grin strangely lulls your unease.

“i've missed you as well... drinking dreams together…, being inside you.”

he takes your silence as embarrassment. fangs peeking through his lips, yet a hint of annoyance flickers in his nighttime eyes when he discerns the truth behind your silence. “doesn't work that way, mastermind," he intones, emphasizing each syllable as he gently taps his index finger against your forehead.

“what are you?”

“a thought, an invention, a dream.” he recites, coming closer. your steps take you away from him, a shadow stirs in his gaze, like a crow's wings, sending shivers down your spine. “are you afraid of me now, after all i've done?”

your brow furrows and his wicked grin widens even more. “why?” you ask confused by his intentions. you can't believe that someone wickedly evil has been saving you on several occasions.

“i owe you,” he simply say, “thanks to you, i exist. and... thanks to you, i am free.”

“i can do whatever i want,” he says with sly enthusiasm.

“you killed those men.” your voice sounds raspy and pasty when you speak. and he finds it, delightful.

he spills joy tinted in every word when he pronounces, “you did.”

the ground beneath you quivers beneath the gravity of his revelation, an undeniable truth crashing over you. “of course not.” but a sliver of doubt lingers in your mind. could you? would you? his enigmatic gaze descends to floor as if he could feel it too.

when his eyes find yours again, a fierce struggle unfolds within their depths. “or maybe someone else did.”

you get his implication,“he wouldn’t do something like that.”

a smile as sharp as a knife. “oh, you have no idea what things he’d willing to do to protect his little dreams.”

the ground quakes once more, and this time, you're certain it's not your doing.

“enough,” you declare, although you can't decide what you mean.

“i'm not doing anything, darling,” the subtle roll of his eyes doesn't escape your notice, yet your attention remains firmly planted on the floor. confusion knits your brow as you observe a puddle encroaching on the soles of your shoes.

your gaze traces the meandering path, eventually leading to the study table. chenle’s name becomes lodged in your throat as a deafening shatter assaults your ears; the shelves flanking both jeno and you teeter precariously. the library is about to collapse.

jeno's hands spring out toward you reflexively, but you deftly evade them and instead utter, “chenle.” there's a hint of reluctance in jeno's response before he resigns himself to approach the slumbering boy.

books start to tumble to the floor as the crowd erupts into collective hysteria. this isn't a dream. it's happening again. water splashes as you approach the table where jeno is trying to wake chenle with limited success. “this doesn't look good at all.”

another crash rends the air as the earth cracks, and the world shudders when a rocky spire erupts from the ground, puncturing the vaulted library ceiling. debris begins to rain down. “you don't expect me to carry him, do you?” he asks rhetorically.  “never, you're not strong enough.” a few seconds pass before your words have an impact. “okay, fine. mastermind.”

the water begins to rise, creeping up their knees and weaving its way through the books, meandering around the crystal spires jutting from all sides. the place starts to fold in on itself, morphing as it seeks an escape amidst the chaos and hysteria. the water climbs higher and higher along their limbs as the ceiling crumbles, revealing a sky filled with meteorites.

“keep moving, darling.” you hear jeno’s voice under your bewilderment. “this is…” not chenle’s dream. something morphed. this is his dream, but also yours.

not dreams. nightmares. they are taking possession while people dream.

“jeno.” your voice trembles more than you'd like. all those people, in the same state as chenle despite making a thousand attempts to wake him, remain ensnared in the realm as their dreams turn to nightmares and escape from the ether into reality.

your eyes dart to him when you receive no response, but you're met with the cruel revelation that he's gone. you sweep hastily in all directions in his search as you call his name, almost in desperation, too absorbed in the panic that paralyzes you that you barely register the marble figure sinking into the depths. the water reaches your chest, and it's only now that you came across the fact that you've long since ceased to touch solid ground.

you take a breath before submerging yourself, swimming down as the ever-widening expanse separates you further. his frozen, pale hand stretches toward yours, unable to make contact, sinking alongside chenle. a sharp pain explodes in your chest as you look at each other, his face trapped in eternal agony, as he vanishes into the depths, until only chenle and you remain, drifting in the endless expanse of the cerulean sea.

your lungs rebel, their desperate gasps clinging to the dwindling reserves of oxygen, while your outstretched fingers ache as if they could grasp the very essence of chenle. fiercely holding onto that lifeline, you initiate your ascent as your body falters beneath the relentless depths.

the world swirls in a dizzying frenzy. first, the embrace of the ocean's frigid depths envelopes you while your outstretched fingers ache as they grasp chenle, then the warmth of another's taking hold of you. in this tumultuous surge, you sense your very being's resistance against the relentless sea, as it compels you to expel the intruding water, your throat erupting in a violent symphony of coughs.

gradually, your ears resurface, attuned to the cacophony of a world that had been submerged in silence. amidst the crackling sounds of your awakening senses, chenle's cough reaches you.

you're too catatonic to initially register his presence, warming your insides, but once your being recognizes his, you wrap your arms around him and meld into him. donghyuck embraces you, and you blur your own fear of losing him with his. after an eternity passes during which it seems like you both don’t want to break each other's embrace, you become aware of the world falling apart.

“i thought i'd lost you,” you sob. your hands cradle his warm face, and his eyes tightly shut. you see his celestial countenance marred by fears as the stone where he placed your bodies begins to tremble. “jisung... what happened with him?” you ask.

his eyes finally open, wet with lament. “he's not doing this, star.” confusion roots itself in your stomach as a sensation tightens in your chest. “it's you.”

“the nightmares…,” he mentions while you find yourself slowly denying. an unwanted feeling winds through you, a presence you refuse to acknowledge. as he talks, as he accuses you for actions you cannot truly comprehend, delving into your consciousness that unravels your misguided decisions, compelling you to confront the uncomfortable truth unfolding before you. “you took them from me.”

despair creeps in, “so you could sleep.”

“so you could free them.”

you couldn't carry out such an act. it wasn't for that reason that you did it, yet you’re the only one who refuses to believe it. his shoulders slump under the weight of defeat, and you, you've lost your voice; all the things you’ve done, all the things you could’ve done, dancing in the space.

he seizes your daze to hold you tighter, and you feel it. every sensation that assails him with each rapid heartbeat. reluctance. fear. love. resignation. “i've been searching for you since you fell, my star,” his voice is tinged with sorrow, and you hear him sob. “i fell for you.”

boulders start to tumble into the deluge. the ground beneath you quakes as it crumbles away. “he vanished me from the dreaming until i was worthy once more. until i found the nightmare sorter.” your arms hang limp, feeling defeat coursing through your veins. every part of you burning. your heart breaking in tandem with the world while his arms continue to embrace you.

a sob overtakes you, “sorry for taking too long, my star. i would have loved to spend an eternity with you.”

“we're bond forever. our souls come from the same star. i'll find you again, in another universe, in other lifetime. and i promise i'll find you sooner next time.”

you look at him with nothing left inside you, consumed by betrayal, unwilling to do anything because your heart is broken. his dreams are his most precious possession, and he would do anything for them, just as you would do anything for him. “i love you.” he shatters when you shake your head. no, you don't.

you feel your body move under his influence, his eyes closing, unwilling to look. “look at me.” his face contorts in agony as he does as you ask.

the words burn on your tongue, “i would never have done this to you.” your feet slip off the ledge, and you make no attempt to hold onto anything.

the voracious pain in your chest tightens as you fall, numbed by the spreading malaise within you. not sensing at first the shift in the substance around you; how it becomes denser. your body shivers from the cold touch, so different from his warm hands. this time, he doesn't laugh, but you know it's him, enveloping you in his midnight cloak. you've been descending for a time without end with the ocean as your downfall.

but you never reach the bottom. he transforms your being like his, nighttime mist that dissipates into the darkness.

you are startled awake from your reverie. it feels like you've been dozing for a lifetime. in a dream you always dream of.

where you fall, infinitely. towards the void, towards space, towards the immensity of the ocean. you don't know. you never know, because you never reach the bottom. pushed by a stranger. a friend. a lover. an enemy. a lost boy.

a bulge squeezes under his pants. he can't stop looking at you. you torment him all the time. you don't leave his mind ever. he is drawn to you, bewitched. so blindly obsessed, he can't ever have enough.

his warm hands sweep over your body, touching you all over. the delicate fabric of your underwear seen in detail by his eyes like two dark wells of molten chocolate, canines catching his inner lip while his pupils wide as blackhole devour you before his mouth does.

haechan runs his tongue and teeth along the line in your belly as you find yourself caught between his legs on the edge of the bed and your fingers tangle in his soft hair. “d'you like it?” head pulling back from the sensation of his mouth sucking on your skin taking over your body. eyebrows coming together while he keeps you in place and forces you to feel it all.

a moan escapes when he gets up without warning and towers over you. “very much.” you don't have time for anything when his lips rest on yours in a crushing kiss full of fervent desire. he muffles a sound when you bite his lips, struggling to keep inside the thrill when he touches you like that: like he's starving. your body charge with elation and you blush from the electricity of his tongue over yours when he hums in your mouth.

your hands disappear under the fabric of his shirt, removing the garment with his help. but when your hands grip on the buckle of his jeans his hands grab your wrists. “show me first.” your whole being is consumed by a blazing fire as you feel his heavy gaze on you, eyes registering your every move as you lie on the bed and your hands begin to crawl across your figure, showing him.

they cradle your chests, up your neck, and your body stretches every fiber in you, legs rising to the air before you open them like a curtain revealing your face paying detailed attention to his expression as you hold yourself by the elbows. there's static in the air as he visibly swallows, tongue wetting his lips and he thinks to himself he's doomed, when you proceed to crawl to him, ass up as you arch your back, reaching finally the hem of his pants, “fuck me, angel.”

you kneel in front of him as his hand combs through your hair, working on the zipper of his pants with quick hands. your mouth feels watery and so eager to have a taste when you reveal his full erection. dick thick and flushed with the tip tinged with the prettiest pink ever, hitting his stomach. mind fogging and fuzzy with craving. you want to put it whole in your mouth. you want to taste him until he comes on your tongue. you want him to pump you full. “so pretty, wanting my cock?” he asks, holding you by the chin, “give it a kiss.”

your parted lips rest on the tip and you hear him take a deep breath. “that's my girl. lay down for me.” haechan doesn't wait for you and his hand gently pushes you, falling onto the smooth surface. his hand goes to your waist where it is pressed firmly to keep you still and at his mercy, while his other hand moves down your thigh towards your femininity.

a sigh chokes in your throat as it growls under his breath. you're soaking wet. his fingers play with the silkiness of your arousal, wetting his digits that go up and down your folds, before they press on the bulge of your clit. you stifle a gasp. “if you want to keep me happy, you'd better let me listen to you,” he advises. he shoves his fingers without warning and starts to pump you hastily, making your eyes roll and want to close your legs. it's so powerful that you moan your heart.

“just like that.” he doesn't slow down, wiggling them side to side and in and out of you, body reacting to his crushing motion. his fingers feel so good, he moves them the way you like, making you moan and taking you into limbo. hips buckling up in a jerk and legs twitching and shaking as his available hand go up to your neck and keep you in place.

“o-oh god,” you cry, “haechan.” voice feeling forced and broken when you hiss at the knot that grips your belly. “please... s'too much.” enticing a bundle of pants and restrained grunts leaving your lips.

haechan ignores your pleas, and soon you find yourself turned into a mess of moans and tremors. he's so entranced by the way your body moves, tits bouncing deliciously as your face contracts and ease to his fingers doing wonders in you. “so good, angel. looking so heavenly, keep moaning my name like that.” they feel so nice, stretching you so good, you become liquid and numb. “f-fuck, hyuck!” your body suffers devastating spasms as you hear haechan laugh ecstatic ally, “shit, angel.” feeling your being release waves of pure and raw pleasure that leaves you breathless and spacing out.

you see him stirring his silky-soaked fingers and putting them in his mouth. haechan closes his eyes enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. so exquisite and sweet, he becomes addicted. “spread,” he commands, and you do his will still recovering from the intensity of your orgasm.

you see him fit between your legs before you feel him flicking his tongue over your pussy. your breath condenses as the sedative effect of his mouth working miracles on you, flicking and lapping. haechan works on you diligently, bites and sucks, caresses and tastes. lips catching your folds over and over again, eating you pleasantly. your seductive scent awakening every nerve ending in him, wanting to make you his all night. show you all that he has to give you. leave your body so satisfied that you don't want anyone but him.

haechan strokes and lashes you, wet sounds filling the room from the way your lube soaks haechan's face, sunk into your swollen pussy. firm hands holding your legs spread as he devours you, reaching your climax in his mouth once more. exhausted and out of breath, sensing his presence still between your legs. “speak up, angel,” he asks when you mumble under your breath. body already jerking because he doesn't give you a break to compose when he inserts two fingers in and twirls them inside.

“i thought this was your birthday present,” you say, in space.

jisung has the sweet quirk of talking while asleep. and those conversations are so wholesome and dearest to you. he talks about his day, about his friends, his family. it's silly late-night conversations that in occasions, it's hard not to chuckle. you like to hear him tell you little secrets, sometimes you let him go on a little longer because that's when he talks about this girl he's in love with. your heart threatens to explode when he says your name so tender, snuggling closer to you before he goes back to sleep, because even when he's dreaming, you're there with him.

even though renjun is sleepy to death, he insists on telling you everything while you weren't with him. you usually have better sleep endurance than him, but you know that he is an innate stubborn, he will never go to sleep before you, so your fingers circle his forehead as you feel his tongue getting heavier and heavier, unable to formulate sentences without slurring the words and cutting them halfway, until you see him smile right before saying your name softly, finally realizing your victorious attempt to put him to sleep.

jaemin's been having a light sleep lately and any movement or sound you make causes him to shed sleep and give you a wary look. his heart skip a beat when his hands reach out and don't bump into you to pull you to him, calling your name in the dark. he finds you drinking a glass of water in the kitchen and calms down; for a moment he thinks you've left. he can't help it, he's afraid you'll not be there when he wakes up. so you comfort him, and promise him you won't leave. so that night, he falls into a deep sleep.