he stirred. 

his lashes fluttered. a soft, confused exhale left him as consciousness slowly dragged him back to the surface. sunghoon rubbed his eyes as they opened—hazy at first, then sharpened with dawning awareness. for a split second, he simply stared at the ceiling, still half–lost in whatever nightmare he’d been having. 

sunghoon turned his head toward your side of the bed.

empty. cold. the sheets were messy. like you’d gone up hours before.

“yn…?” his voice was hoarse, thick with sleep and confusion.

sunghoon sat up slowly, scanning his dark bedroom. the closet door facing the bed was closed. and the bathroom light was off too. even the bedroom door was still locked. nothing moved and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

the silence pressed in heavier, however, suffocating.

“shh… go back to bed.”

the whisper came from behind him—soft, loving, almost motherly and ghostly. but it wasn’t from the bed. it came from the…

corner.

sunghoon froze. every hair on his body stood up at once. slowly, dread pooling like ice in his tummy, he turned his head toward the half-wall that separated the bedroom from the bathroom.

there you were.

only your head.

peeking out from behind the sharp edge of the corner like a creature that had learned how to wear a human face. your eyes were wide open, unblinking, reflecting the moonlight in a way that made your orbs look wet and glassy.

your pupils were blown wide with something far beyond affection. 

strands of your hair clung to your cheeks, damp with sweat even though the room was cold. a thin string of drool glistened from the corner of your mouth down to your chin. you hadn’t moved since the past two hours. didn’t need to.

being this close was enough.

“y—yn…” his voice cracked, breath hitching halfway through his lungs. his heart smalled violently against his ribs. “wh—what are you doing? how long have you been standing there?”

you tilted your head slightly, but the movement was so jerky and unnatural. like a puppet with tangled strings.

“sorry… did i surprise you?” you whispered, voice honey sweet dripping and cracking at the edges. your eyes never left his face, still shining with love. “you were sleeping so beautifully. i didn’t wanna wake you up… but i couldn’t stop looking.”

you smiled, too wide. “you’re so soft when you’re unconscious. so cute.” 

sunghoon’s back pressed harder against the headboard, his breathing shallow and panicked.

your smile widened dreamily. 

“i was thinking about how your skin would taste… right here,” you murmured, gaze dropping to the slope of his neck. “warm. and salty. just a little bite. i promise i wouldn’t waste anything.” 

sunghoon swallowed hard, his face pale like the moon. his voice shook as he tried to sound calm. 

“wh—what? hey… um, just come to bed?” he patted the empty spot beside him with a trembling hand, forcing a weak, uneasy, hopefully convincing smile. “it’s late. you should… you should lie down. please?”

a soft, childish giggle slipped from your lips. you stayed exactly where you were, head still tilted at that unnatural angle, only the upper half of your face visible around the corner. 

gosh, you looked so… inhuman.

“nooooooo,” you drew out, almost like a whine. “i don’t want to come to bed yet. i want to stare at you a little longer.” your eyes roamed over his body slowly. “you look so cute! your pulse is jumping right here…” your gaze fixed on his neck again.

“oh, i just love you soooooooooo much.” 

sunghoon’s voice cracked, trying desperately to sound gentle. “ah… ah, i—i love you too, so please just come here…”

the moment the words left his mouth, your expression twisted. the dreamy smile you had on dropped instantly, replaced by a deep, angry frown that made your face look completely—distorted. 

“no!” you suddenly yelled, voice sharp and thrill. “no, no, no! i want to stare at you! i want to watch you! why don’t you understand?!”

your nails dug into the wallpaper beside the corner with a sickening shrrrip. they tore through the material like claws, shredding long, jagged strips that fluttered to the floor. your eyes were wide and manic now, breath coming fast and wet.

“stop!” sunghoon shouted, finally breaking in fear. “you’re freaking me out! yn, stop!”

you froze mid–tear. the anger vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a sudden, childlike guilt. slowly, you stepped out from behind the corner, fully revealing yourself for the first time.

only dressed in only your panties and his unzipped hoodie—your hair was messy, cheeks flushed, nails ragged and bloody with shreds of wallpaper stuck underneath. 

“i didn’t mean to…” you whispered, voice small and trembling. your head tilted again, that same jerky motion like your screws came loose. “i didn’t mean to scare you, baby. i just… i love you so much it really hurts… sometimes i feel like if i don’t look at you, you’ll disappear.”

you took one small step closer to the bed, eyes glassy with that obsessive hunger. 

“can i keep watching? just for a little longer, please? i promise i won’t bite.”

he’s leaning against the high–top table with his usual group of friends—jake, jay, heeseung, and others—laughing at something someone just said. the dim bar lights catch on his sharp jawline and the way his dark hair falls is perfectly messy. 

he looks good.

he always looks too good.

relaxed in that white button up with his sleeves folded that always made his shoulders look broader. but right beside him, tucked under his arm like she belongs there, is sooha.

his new girlfriend.

you’d heard about her two weeks ago—from your girlfriends, and then directly from jungwon himself. “sunghoon’s with this girl named sooha now,” he’d casually said over lunch, “she likes him, and he thinks why not.” 

months had passed since your breakup, the reminder still stung. especially because everyone knew it was your fault—the stupid fights you picked and the way you pushed him away until he stopped chasing.

and now here they are.

now he’s chasing over another?

sooha’s giggling, pressing closer. your fingers tighten around your cold glass.

ryujin follows your stare when she realises you’ve been too quiet. she winces. “fuck… that’s sooha. you good?”

you don’t answer right away. because sunghoon’s eyes finally drift across the bar and find yours.

i think i need a shower, my friends are taking shots, you think it’s happy hour, for me it’s not.

the easy smile on his face flickers. just for a heartbeat—his shoulders tense under that white shirt, jaw tightening as recognition hits. his fingers twitch slightly on her shoulder. sooha doesn’t notice—she’s still chatting with the others.

but his gaze stays locked on you—and you don’t pull away either.

you hold it. let him see the bitterness and something more intimate, like nostalgia, simmer under your skin. the unspoken cry because it’s over. you were the one who ruined things—sure—yeah. but seeing him move on before you feels like salt in the wound. 

he swallows, glancing quickly at sooha before his eyes flick back to you. 

oh you’re supposed to think about me  every time you hold her.

the restroom hallway is quieter, the music muffled. you push open the door to the sink area and freeze for half a second.

sunghoons’s there.

he’s at the far sink, washing his hands with his sleeves rolled up. his eyes lift immediately when you enter, meeting yours in the mirror. neither of you speaks. 

oh, well.

you step up to the sink right next to him, turning on the tap. the water runs cold over your delicate hands as you feel the heat of his glance on the side of your face. in the mirror, his reflection keeps flicking over to you—tracing your profile, your lips, the line of your neck.

you do the same, though. stealing glances at the way his slender fingers move along the slippery soap, the faint flush on his cheeks.

he finishes first. instead of leaving right away, he reaches for the stack of paper towels and holds it out to you. 

you turn off the tap, hesitate for a beat, then take it. your fingers brush his. 

you can fake it, but you know i know, know i know.

“girls night?” 

you crumple the tissue, meeting his gaze directly this time. 

“mmhm.”

a beat passes. he doesn’t smile. doesn’t offer any fake pleasantries about how you’ve been or how nice it is to see you again. he just looks at you—the same way you’re looking up to him. 

“...i… i didn’t think i’d see you tonight.” 

sunghoon lets out a slow breath, eyes dropping to your lips for a second before dragging back up. “...yeah. me neither.”

the silence stretches again, but it’s not empty. it’s full of everything you didn’t say when you broke up. all the nights you spent tangled in his sheets. all the nights he slept with your scent on his pillowcase.

you feel yourself getting bold, the shots and the ache mixing in your chest. you step a little closer, voice dropping.

“don’t you miss me?”

his eyes darken and for a split second, his eyebrows twitch. he doesn’t answer right away, but you see the way his fingers curl against the edge of the counter sink.

you push anyway, softer this time, almost pleading. “don’t you miss me, sunghoon?”

i want you to miss me, i want you to miss me.

he exhales sharply. for a moment, he looks away, but he doesn’t move. “i’m… getting to know her,” he says quietly, adam’s apple bobbing behind his skin. “you… you broke up with me.”

the words sting, but you don’t back down. he didn’t even say they’re dating. you tilt your head, looking straight into those eyes that used to look at you like you hung the moon.

“but don’t you miss me?” you whisper again, stepping closer until your cologne wraps around him. “don’t you miss the way we were?”

sunghoon’s resolve cracks so easily right in front of you.

his hand lifts like it has a mind of its own, fingertips barely grazing your waist over your top. not pulling you in, but not pushing you away either. his breathing gets a little shallower as he stares down at you, that familiar longing and missing flickering behind the guilt.

“yn…” he breathes, voice rough. “you can’t just say that to me.”

but sunghoon’s not walking away. he’s in a situation where the cuffs are too loose around his wrists. his fingers press a little firmer into your side, like muscle memory. his gaze drops to your mouth again, longer this time, and you can practically feel the pull.

the nostalgia turning into heat.

i want you to miss me, i want you to miss me.

you push up on your toes and kiss him first.

the second your lips touch his, sunghoon makes a low, broken sound in his throat. for half a heartbeat, he freezes—then he kisses you back like a man starved. his hand slides fully around your waist, yanking you flush against him at his other hand cups your cheek.

it’s messy, urgent, all teeth and months of pent–up frustration.

“ugh, fuck,” he breathes against your mouth between kisses, barely pulling back enough to speak. “what are you—”

you cut him off with another kiss, and he groans—walking you backward without breaking contact. he pushes the door to the men’s restroom open with his shoulder, thanking god that it’s empty before dragging you into the last cubicle. the lock clicks shut behind you with a finality that sends a thrill down your spine.

sunghoon spins you around, pressing your back against the cool wall. his mouth is on yours again—now deeper. one of his hands slides down to grip your thigh, hiking it up around his hip as he grinds into you.

“gonna get me in s’much trouble,” he mutters against your lips, but kissing you harder like he’s just saying it. his tongue slips into your mouth, tasting like the whiskey he was drinking earlier. one hand slides up under your top, palm hot against your skin.

he pulls back just enough to look at you, breathing hard, lips swollen. his eyes are glassy with want and guilt. 

“tell me to stop,” he rasps, forehead resting against yours. “right now. tell me.”

you shake your head, hands fisting the front of his button–up. “don’t wanna,” you murmur, pulling him in close. “i want you right now,” you whisper, “let’s fix this. i miss you, hoonie.”

sunghoon sighs and lets out a wrecked, “my gosh…” like he can’t believe how easy it is—how weak he is for you. his resolve completely shatters. 

he crashes his mouth back onto yours. in seconds, he’s hiking your skirt up around your waist, tugging your panties down just enough. you hear the sound of his belt buckle opening, then the zipper, then the hurried rustle of fabric.

you’re dripping, and he’s hard as fuck.

sunghoon lifts you up like you weigh nothing, pressing your back against the cubicle wall. your legs wrap around his hips instinctively. he doesn’t tease—doesn’t wait.

“can’t take back what you’re saying now,” he grunts as he wraps his hand around the base, positioning the tip at your entrance. “you’re taking me back.” 

then he pushes in—one long, rough thrust that buries him to the hilt.

you both moan aloud, the sound bouncing off the tiled walls. he’s thick, stretching you open after months apart, and the sudden fullness makes your eyes roll back. sunghoon’s forehead drops to your shoulder, a shaky “fuck…” escaping him as your velvet walls clench around his cock.

there isn’t a need to adjust—not when your pussy’s molded to the shape of his cock.

sunghoon’s hips snap forward, fucking you hard and deep against the wall. the slap of skin on skin is filthy, loud, desperate. “shit—you’re so wet,” he groans. one hand grips your thigh while the other stays braced on the wall. “missed you so much… missed how fucking tight you get for me.”

you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders through his white button up as he pounds into you. “hngh—hoonie, fuck—you’re s’huge,” you gasp. every thrust hits that perfect, sending sparks up your spine. the door trembles slightly with the force of it. 

“look at me,” he demands breathlessly, slamming into you again. “you wanted this, right? say it, say it.”

when you moan out a broken “yes—wanted you,” he curses under his breath and kisses you again, messier this time, tongue sliding as he fucks you harder. his rhythm starts to falter, growing erratic and needy.

“gonna make you cum,” sunghoon pants against your mouth. “then you’re gonna take every drop like a good girl… just like you used to.”

his thrusts turn sloppy and desperate, hips snapping hard as he chases his high. your moans mix with his ragged breathing, the sound echoing obscenely in the cubicle. 

“fuck—i’m close,” he graons, voice strained. “where do you want it?”

you don’t even hesitate, “on my face.”

sunghoon almost roll his eyes in pleasure. with one final, hard, slam that knocks your cervix up—he pulls out suddenly, setting you down on shaky legs. your knees rest and press on his shoes ‘cause sunghoon refuses to let your pretty skin touch the dirty floor.

you look up as he strokes his wet, throbbing cock fast and rough right above your face. sunghoon looks the best when he’s jerking off.

“shit—look at me, pretty,” he pants, groaning. “keep on looking at me with those eyes.”

a few more strokes—sunghoon cums hard with a groan. thick, warm ropes of cum land across your lips, cheek, and chin. you keep your eyes on him the whole time—watching the way his face twists in pleasure, his white button–up rumpled and hair messy. 

the second he finishes, sunghoon bends down to pull you up and kisses you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue with a filthy moan. his hands cradle your face, thumbs smearing his release across your skin.

“you’re so insane,” he whispers, still breathing hard. “i—”

the main bathroom door suddenly swings with laughter.

“this place is packed tonight,” jake’s voice echoes. the tap turns. 

“did you see who’s here? yn and her friends are at the bar.”

sunghoon freezes completely, eyes blown wide. his hand instinctively flies up to cover your mouth, body pressing you harder. 

jay laughs, the sound way too close. “yeah, i saw. sucks to be sunghoon, man. can’t imagine running into your ex while you’re here with the girl you’re talking to. awkward as fuck.”

heeseung chimes in, lathering his hands with soap. “he’s acting weird all night. probably saw her and dipped. dude can’t catch a break.”

jake hums, pissing at the urinal. “of couse he dipped. he’ll relapse if he doesn’t.”

your eyes flick up to sunghoon’s face.

he avoids your gaze instantly, staring elsewhere like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. his lips are pressed into a thin line, cheeks flushed, and you can feel his heartbeat racing against you.

the boys keep chatting and laughing for another agonising minute before finally washing up and leaving. the door swings shut behind them, and silence falls again.

sunghoon doesn’t move his hand from your mouth right away. he just stares at you, breathing hard. then, slowly, lean to press a kiss to your forehead.

“yeah…” he admits quietly, voice barely above a whisper. his forehead drops to yours. “i miss you.”