🌟『Estelle』🌟

BOYNEXTDOOR was that friendship was apparently not distributed equally. The second thing you learned was that Leehan somehow existed as the exception to every rule. 

You were close with Jaehyun. Comfortable around Riwoo. You could talk to Sungho for hours without either of you running out of things to say, and it wasn’t even an exaggeration to say that you and Woonhak had enough inside jokes to qualify as a private language. Taesan, at this point, practically shared a brain cell with you. 

And then there was Leehan. 

You knew him, of course you did. You’d known him for years in all the usual ways people do when they’ve spent enough time together to accumulate birthdays, lunch tables, school festivals, convenience store runs at midnight, and the occasional group study session that somehow turned into everything except studying. He was there for all of it. Always present, always somewhere in the mix. 

And yet, if someone asked you to name a single meaningful one-on-one conversation you’d ever had with him, your brain would probably just shut down. 

That realization didn’t come during some dramatic life-changing moment either. No big argument. No heartfelt confession. Nobody even pointed it out to you. 

It happened on a Wednesday. 

You were eating lunch in your classroom with Taesan, half-listening to him complain about a math assignment while absentmindedly scrolling through old photos on your phone. Most of them were pictures of your friend group—festival photos, convenience store runs, birthdays, random chaotic afternoons where somebody decided everybody needed to leave the house immediately because they were bored and had no sense of peace. 

Woonhak was making a ridiculous face in one photo. Jaehyun looked like he was trying to audition for a magazine shoot in another. Riwoo was laughing so hard that the picture came out blurry. Sungho looked mildly annoyed, which was literally his default setting in every photo ever taken of him. Taesan showed up in what was probably eighty percent of your camera roll, which felt less like a coincidence and more like a personal trademark. 

And then— Leehan. 

You paused. 

Your thumb hovered over the screen. 

Leehan was in almost all of these pictures. That part wasn’t weird. What was weird was what you noticed next. 

He was never standing beside you in any of your group pictures. Nor did you have a photo of just you and him in your gallery. Unlike everyone else in your friend group. 

At first, you laughed at yourself because that sounded like the kind of thing your brain would invent just to be dramatic. It didn’t mean anything. It was probably just random positioning. But then you kept scrolling. And scrolling. And scrolling. The pattern never changed. 

Someone was always between you. A few feet away. In the background. At the edge of the frame. Never beside you. 

You frowned. 

That was kind of insane, actually. Really insane. 

Because you’d known him for years. Years. You were friends. At least… technically. Weren’t you? The thought sat in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and unfortunately, once it showed up, it refused to leave. 

By night, you were lying in bed staring at the ceiling like you were about to receive divine answers from the plaster above you, trying to remember what you actually talked to Leehan about. Your brain immediately offered up: fish. That was it. Fish. Okay, sure, what else?

…Fish. 

You groaned and rolled over. 

There had to be more than that. 

You knew Woonhak’s embarrassing middle school stories. You knew Riwoo’s favorite snacks. You knew Jaehyun hated bitter coffee. You knew Sungho secretly loved cheesy romance dramas despite denying it with his whole chest every single time someone brought them up. You knew Taesan so well that half your conversations happened through eye contact alone. 

But Leehan? 

You knew he liked fish.  A lot. 

Actually, “liked” almost felt insulting. Leehan loved fish with the kind of dedication that was a little alarming if you thought about it too hard. He knew scientific names, migration patterns, species classifications, habitats, and the lifespans of fish you had never even heard of. If someone mentioned an aquarium out loud, there was a very real chance they were about to get a thirty-minute lecture they did not ask for. 

Not that anybody minded.  Usually. 

The members all described Leehan the same way: weird. 

Not in a bad way. Not in an off-putting way. Just… Leehan weird. The kind of weird where he’d vanish during a school trip and be found staring into a pond like it had personally changed his life. The kind of weird where he’d interrupt a conversation because he’d spotted an interesting bird. The kind of weird where he’d get genuinely passionate over something so specific that nobody else could keep up, but somehow that only made him more him. 

You remembered one lunch period when someone had made the mistake of asking him what his favorite fish was. 

Thirty-two minutes later, he was still answering. 

You weren’t even sure he’d realized everyone else had finished eating. 

The thing was, the more you thought about it, the more you realized you mostly knew things about Leehan. Not him. Not really. And somehow, after years of being around him, that bothered you more than you wanted to admit. 

So when Woonhak suddenly dropped a weekend karaoke-and-arcade plan into the group chat later that night, you already knew exactly what you wanted to do. Maybe this was your chance to fix it. Maybe you’d finally talk to Leehan properly. Maybe you’d figure out what, if anything, you actually had in common besides existing in the same friend group and occasionally breathing in each other’s general direction. 

Maybe, just maybe, you’d stop feeling weird every time you ended up standing next to him. Unfortunately, the universe appeared to have absolutely no interest in helping you.

---------------------------------- 

Saturday arrived, and for once, you were pretty sure you were the first person there. At least, that was what you thought until your eyes landed on Leehan. 

The park was small—just one of those neighborhood meeting spots with a few scattered benches, more trees than actual structure, and grass that looked like it had been politely asked to exist. The karaoke place was only a short walk away, which had probably been the main reason Woonhak picked it in the first place. You’d arrived fifteen minutes early, as usual, because apparently being early was one of the few habits in your life that had remained fully intact.

Which was exactly how you spotted Leehan before he spotted you. 

He was sitting alone on a bench beneath a tree, backpack beside him, phone in one hand, and—because apparently subtlety had never once been a concern in his life—a fish guidebook in the other. 

You slowed down. 

Then stopped and squinted a little harder, just to make sure your eyes weren’t being dramatic. They weren’t. 

It was absolutely, unmistakably a fish guidebook. 

Not even a normal book. Not a novel he was pretending to read for the aesthetic. Not some random notebook. An actual guidebook about fish, which was so aggressively Leehan that you almost laughed before you even got to him. 

Of course he was doing that. Of course he was. You hadn’t even made it across the park and he was already embodying the exact specific brand of strange that made him impossible to ignore. 

Then your phone buzzed. 

Your smile disappeared so fast it should have been medically concerning. 

Woonhak: GUYS IM SO SORRY.

You stared at the screen. 

Before you could even process that, another message came in. 

Woonhak: something came up 

Woonhak: i can’t make it today 

You stopped walking completely. 

“What?” 

Then the next messages started rolling in like the universe had decided to speedrun your downfall. Sungho. Jaehyun. Riwoo. Taesan. 

One apology after another. One excuse after another. One cancellation after another. In less than two minutes, the entire outing had collapsed in on itself like it had never existed at all. 

Your jaw dropped. 

“No freaking way.” 

You opened the group chat in a panic, as if maybe, just maybe, somebody was joking and this was all some elaborate prank at your expense. It wasn’t. Nobody was joking. Everyone was bailing. And Woonhak—the very person who had organized the whole thing—had somehow found a way to abandon ship first. 

Unbelievable. 

You looked up. 

Across the park, Leehan had checked his own phone, and his face had barely changed. The only sign that he’d noticed anything at all was the slight lift of his eyebrows, which was somehow even more alarming than if he’d looked fully shocked. That was when the real horror hit you. 

It was just you and him. Alone. For the entire day. 

Your first instinct was to call Taesan, which was less a plan and more a cry for emotional rescue. He answered on the second ring. 

“Hello?” 

“Taesan, you need to come.” 

“No.” 

“What do you mean no?”

“I know exactly why you’re calling.” 

You started walking toward the bench anyway, because apparently your feet had not received the memo that you were in crisis. 

“Everybody cancelled,” you said, like that might somehow inspire mercy. 

“Yep.” 

“Please. You have to save me.” 

Taesan laughed. Actually laughed. 

“I’m serious.” 

“You’ll survive.” 

“It’ll be awkward.” 

“It’ll only be awkward if you make it awkward.” 

“Taesan.” 

“You’ve known him for years, Y/N.” 

“That’s exactly the problem.” 

There was a pause. 

Then, in the most annoying tone possible, he said, “…Okay, that’s actually kind of fair.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’ll still survive.” 

You groaned and tightened your grip on your phone. 

“I’ll buy your lunch.” 

“No.” 

“Dinner.” 

“No.” 

“I’ll do your homework.” 

A beat of silence. 

“...Now that’s tempting.” 

“Taesan.” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I really can’t make it.” 

And with that, the traitor hung up, leaving you to face your fate alone. 

By the time you finally reached the bench, Leehan was already standing. The two of you looked at each other, then at your phones, then at each other again. Around you, the park carried on like nothing had happened. Kids ran past the playground. Somebody walked a dog. A cyclist went by, completely unbothered by the fact that your entire social structure had just imploded. 

Neither of you spoke for a second. 

Then the group chat exploded again with even more apologies, as if everyone had collectively realized the timing of their cancellations had been deeply suspicious and was now trying to make up for it by being loud about it. You read them. Leehan read them. You left the chat before anyone could keep spiraling. 

There was no fixing this. No miracle was coming. Nobody was going to appear out of nowhere and save you from the awkwardness waiting directly in front of you. 

It was just you and Leehan. The realization settled in your stomach like a very rude piece of bread. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and cleared your throat. “Well…” 

Leehan looked at you expectantly, like he was actually waiting for you to finish the sentence in a way that made sense. 

“I guess we should just head home.” 

It seemed logical enough. No group, no karaoke, no arcade, no plan. Therefore: go home. Simple. Clean. Emotionally devastating, but simple.

Leehan frowned slightly. Not in an upset way. More like he genuinely did not understand why that had to be the conclusion. 

“Why?” 

You blinked. “...Because everyone canceled?” 

“Yeah.” 

He looked at you as if you had just said the sky was optional. 

“So?” 

For a second, your brain fully malfunctioned. 

“So...” 

You gestured vaguely at the empty park, the abandoned outing, the fact that the two of you were standing there like the world’s most awkward side quest. 

“The plans are gone.” 

“Not really.” 

You stared at him. 

Leehan shifted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and then, in the same calm tone someone might use to mention the weather or point out that it was probably going to rain later, said, 

“There’s a place about ten minutes from here.” 

You blinked again. You probably didn't hear him right. 

“A place?” 

“Good rice bowls.” 

He nodded once, like that should explain everything. 

“We can eat first.” 

You very nearly forgot how to function. 

It wasn’t even the suggestion itself. It was the way he said it—so casually, so naturally, like the idea of spending time with you one-on-one was the least strange thing in the world. No hesitation. No weird energy. No visible panic. Just a simple plan, delivered like the day had not, in fact, been ruined five minutes ago. 

As if this wasn’t weird. As if you weren’t weird. As if you hadn’t just spent the last several minutes on the verge of a nervous breakdown. 

“Oh.” 

Fantastic response. Truly top-tier communication. 

Leehan waited patiently, like he wasn’t standing there watching you short-circuit in real time. 

Then he added, almost as an afterthought, “We’ve never really hung out by ourselves before. Just the two of us.” 

The honesty of that nearly blue-screened your brain. 

Because he was right. You hadn’t. Not once. 

And apparently, he had noticed. 

That only made everything worse, because now you were suddenly hyper-aware of your own heartbeat, which felt extremely rude considering you were technically just going to lunch with someone you’d known for years. You did hang out with Leehan. Sort of. In the same way two people can be in the same room all the time and still somehow remain mysteriously separate. You’d sat next to him at group meals. Walked home in the same direction after school. Spent entire afternoons in the same friend circle. 

You knew him. Kind of. 

So why was this suddenly making you act like he’d just invited you to move to another country? Your brain immediately supplied several unhelpful thoughts at once. 

What do we even talk about? 

They always said he was weird. 

A flicker of guilt followed almost instantly, because that wasn’t fair. The others said it affectionately, and you knew that. Besides, half the friend group was weird in their own way anyway. Woonhak once tried to microwave ice cream, so none of them really had the moral authority to judge anything. 

Still, Leehan remained the biggest mystery of all. The one person you’d somehow never quite figured out. 

And now he was standing there, asking you to go get lunch like this was the most normal thing in the world. 

Maybe it was normal. Maybe you were the problem. 

That thought hit you all at once, because Leehan didn’t look nervous at all. He didn’t look awkward. He didn’t look like he was spiraling through ten possible conversation topics in his head. He had simply suggested lunch. 

Meanwhile, you were actively having an identity crisis over rice bowls. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” he said, and his voice pulled you right back into the moment. You looked up. 

He was watching you with quiet patience, not offended, not annoyed, just waiting. Your embarrassment doubled instantly. 

“No,” you said too fast. 

Then, realizing how that sounded, you corrected yourself immediately. “I mean—yes. Hanging out is fine.” 

You paused. 

“Oh my god.” 

You covered part of your face with your hand. “You know what I mean.” 

To your absolute horror, the corner of Leehan’s mouth lifted. Just a little. A tiny smile, gone almost as soon as it appeared. 

“I think I do,” he said. 

That was somehow worse. Or better. You weren’t sure which. 

“Okay,” you managed. 

“Okay.” 

Without saying anything else, Leehan turned and started walking. After a second, you followed. 

The only issue was that you followed a little too far behind. Not on purpose. At least, not consciously. But by the time you noticed, there was enough space between the two of you for an entirely separate person to comfortably exist there. If a stranger had passed by, they probably would have assumed you were just two unrelated people heading in the same direction by coincidence. 

Leehan in front. You trailing behind him like your social skills had slipped on a banana peel. You internally cringed. 

Why were you like this?

He wasn’t scary. He wasn’t mean. He was Leehan. The same Leehan you’d known for years. The same Leehan who had once spent twenty minutes explaining why mudskippers were actually fascinating. The same Leehan who carried fish guidebooks around for fun. The same Leehan who had just casually invited you to lunch like you did this kind of thing all the time. 

Maybe that was the problem. Not that he was acting different. But that he wasn’t. 

At some point, Leehan glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes flicked once between you and the suspiciously large amount of space between you. 

Then he said, completely deadpan, “You walk slower when you’re thinking.” 

You nearly tripped on absolutely nothing. 

“What?” 

“You’ve fallen behind three times.” 

You stared at him. 

Had he really noticed that? 

“When did you notice?” 

“Just now.” 

“You do it during group walks too.” 

That somehow caught you even more off guard than the original comment. 

Because it meant Leehan had been paying attention. To you. Not in some dramatic, life-altering, head over-heels sort of way—probably. But still. The fact that he’d noticed something so weirdly specific about you, something you hadn’t even realized you did until he pointed it out, was doing deeply unfair things to your heart. Things it was not equipped to handle. Things you could not explain even if someone paid you. 

You looked away almost immediately, suddenly very interested in literally anything else in the park. 

Thankfully, Leehan didn’t seem to notice the effect he’d just had on you. Or maybe he did. With him, it was impossible to tell, which was somehow both comforting and extremely annoying. 

For a few moments, neither of you said anything. 

You told yourself that was fine. Perfectly fine. The conversation hadn't died. It was just... resting. Probably. 

Your attention drifted to the shops lining the street ahead when Leehan suddenly spoke. “You brought the blue one today.” 

You blinked. 

“The blue what?” 

“Your bag.” 

You looked down automatically. The canvas tote hanging from your shoulder was, in fact, blue. "...Yeah?" 

Leehan nodded once, like that settled the matter. 

You waited. 

He kept walking. Your confusion lasted approximately three seconds. 

“Wait.” 

Leehan glanced at you.

“You know I have different bags?” 

The question seemed to catch him off guard. 

“Of course.” 

“What do you mean, 'of course'?” 

Now he looked confused too. 

“You use the blue one on weekends.” 

You stared. He just stared back. 

"...What?" 

“The black one is usually for school.” 

There was a pause. 

Then he added, completely serious, “You use the red one that has a bag cover when it rains.” Your brain stopped functioning for a second. 

“What kind of observation skills do you have?” 

Leehan tilted his head. 

“You wear them a lot. It kind of becomes a pattern. I just noticed.” 

That was not an explanation. That somehow only made it worse. 

Because he sounded genuinely puzzled by your reaction, as if remembering something like that was completely normal. 

You looked away before he could notice how strangely warm your face had become. Maybe the others were right. Leehan really was weird. 

The restaurant wasn’t far, just as he’d said. It took less than ten minutes to get there, tucked between a stationery store and a small bakery like it had no business being that convenient and that cozy at the same time. From the outside, it looked modest, almost forgettable, but the moment you stepped inside, the place immediately wrapped around you in warmth. 

A small bell chimed above the door. The air smelled like grilled meat, rice, and soup, and the lunch rush had mostly cleared out, leaving the space quiet in a way that felt almost suspicious. A few customers sat by the windows, soft music played in the background, and everything about it felt way calmer than your internal state. 

“Two?” the waiter asked. 

Leehan nodded. 

The waiter took two menus and led you to a table along the side of the restaurant. Unfortunately— horrifyingly, actually—it was a two-person table. Small. Intimate. The kind of table that forced two people to sit directly across from each other and be conscious of every single micro-expression they made for the next half hour. Your stomach dropped immediately. 

This was bad. 

You sat down carefully, like the wrong movement might somehow make this worse. Leehan sat across from you, and suddenly there was nowhere to hide. No Taesan sitting beside you. No Woonhak creating chaos in the background. No Jaehyun talking enough for three people. No Riwoo laughing at something unhelpful. No Sungho threatening to leave because Woonhak had said something stupid for the fifth time. 

Just you. And Leehan. Right across from you. 

You opened the menu immediately, not because you were actually reading it, but because it gave your hands something to do and your brain something to pretend to focus on. The pages blurred in front of your eyes. You were pretty sure you had already made your choice the second you sat down, but at this point the menu was less a list of food and more a very expensive emotional support prop. 

A few minutes later, the waiter returned, and honestly, you could have kissed him out of gratitude for interrupting the silence. 

You both ordered. 

The waiter collected the menus and left. 

And the second he disappeared, the silence came back like it had been waiting outside the door. No mercy. No hesitation. Just immediate, crushing quiet. 

You and Leehan sat there staring at absolutely anything except each other. 

Your gaze drifted to the large glass window beside the table. Outside, people kept moving with the infuriating confidence of individuals who were not currently trapped in a painfully awkward lunch situation. Someone walked past with a coffee. A cyclist sped by. A couple crossed the street. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. For some reason, every single thing happening outside suddenly seemed deeply fascinating. 

Across from you, Leehan had turned his head toward the same window, as if he had also decided the outside world was safer than direct eye contact. Neither of you said anything. The silence stretched, and stretched, and stretched until it became less of a gap in conversation and more of a physical object sitting between you. 

Your eyes wandered around the restaurant instead. The wooden decorations. The hanging lights. The framed photos on the walls. The open kitchen. The little stack of napkins near the counter. Literally anything. Anything except— 

Your eyes accidentally landed on Leehan. 

You looked away immediately. 

Then, a few seconds later, it happened again. And again. 

It wasn’t entirely your fault. It was hard not to look at him when there was so little else to focus on. Every time your gaze drifted back in his direction, you caught tiny details you absolutely did not need to be noticing right now: the way he turned his water glass between his fingers, the way his expression sat in that calm, unreadable place that made him impossible to decode, the way he looked completely fine despite the fact that the atmosphere around you was one awkward breath away from collapse. 

How was he doing that? Did he just not care? Was he not nervous at all? 

Meanwhile, you were pretty sure your body had entered a state of emergency. Your fingers kept fidgeting with the strap of your bag, which was sitting in your lap even though there was an empty chair right beside you. You’d brought it there without thinking, and now it felt like the only thing keeping you from ascending into pure social panic. You adjusted the strap once. Then again. Then again. Your brain had become unbearably loud. 

This is awkward. Why is this so awkward? 

Does he think this is awkward? 

Should I say something?  What do I even say? 

Nice weather? We’re indoors. That’s stupid. 

You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands. Maybe agreeing to this had been a mistake. Maybe you should have gone home. Maybe you should have invented an emergency. Maybe you should have simply faded into the floorboards and become a decorative floor stain. 

Thankfully, the food arrived before your internal spiral could get any worse. 

The waiter set two bowls down in front of you, and the smell alone was enough to drag your attention back into your body. Rice, meat, egg, vegetables—everything looked neatly arranged, steaming gently, and somehow far too good for your current emotional damage. The waiter smiled politely. 

“Enjoy your meal.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Thank you.”

You and Leehan said it at the exact same time. 

For some reason, that made you laugh. Not loudly. Just a small laugh. But still. A laugh. And somehow that tiny sound made the whole table loosen by maybe five percent, which in this situation felt like a miracle. 

The waiter walked away. 

You looked down at your food again, blinking at it like it had personally saved your life. “Oh wow,” you said before you could stop yourself. “This looks really good.” 

There it was. A conversation. Barely one, but still. A victory. 

Leehan looked at your bowl, then nodded once. “Right?” 

There was a little bit more energy in his voice now, barely noticeable but definitely there, like he’d been waiting for the food to do its part before he fully participated in the social event. He picked up his chopsticks and nodded toward the bowl. 

“Try it. It tastes really good too.” 

You let out a soft laugh. “That sounded like an advertisement.” 

Leehan blinked, like he hadn’t expected that reaction. “It wasn’t supposed to.” “I know.” 

That seemed to confuse him just enough to make you laugh again. It wasn’t a big laugh this time, but it was enough to tug at the tension sitting in your shoulders. The smallest smile appeared at the corner of his mouth—not quite a grin, not quite gone. Just there long enough to make the restaurant feel a little less like a pressure chamber. 

You finally picked up your chopsticks, took a bite and immediately understood. 

Your eyes widened. The rice was seasoned perfectly, the meat was tender, and the sauce somehow managed to be rich without crossing into the territory of overwhelming. It was the kind of meal that made you briefly question every lunch decision you had ever made before this moment. 

“Oh.” 

The sound slipped out before you could catch it. 

You took another bite. Then another. Then started nodding to yourself in exaggerated approval, the movement happening so naturally that you didn’t even realize you were doing it at first. It wasn’t intentional. It was just one of those things your body apparently did whenever you really liked food. If anyone asked, you’d probably blame Woonhak. 

After years of watching him react to snacks like he was personally witnessing the peak of human achievement, some of that behavior had clearly rubbed off on you against your will. You kept chewing, completely focused on your bowl, nodding again for emphasis like the food had just delivered a life changing performance and you were its most loyal fan. 

Which was probably why you almost missed a sound. 

Soft. Barely there. 

Then a laugh. 

You looked up and you froze on the spot. 

Leehan had one hand over his mouth, but his shoulders were shaking slightly, and the quiet sound slipping past him made it very obvious that he was trying—and failing—not to laugh. Not loudly. Not mockingly. Just quietly, like he was genuinely amused by something that had happened right in front of him. 

At you. 

Your chopsticks stopped halfway to your mouth.

“...” 

Leehan noticed immediately. 

That only made it worse, because the small laugh he’d been trying to hide came back a little stronger this time. Still not mean. Still not mocking. Just more clearly entertained, which was somehow almost more embarrassing than if he’d been openly laughing at you. 

You lowered your chopsticks slowly, raised an eyebrow and gave him the look of someone who very much needed an explanation. 

Leehan took a few seconds to collect himself, letting out one more quiet chuckle before shaking his head like he was trying to reassure you that whatever this was, it wasn’t a bad thing. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, though the last traces of laughter were still hanging in his voice. You did not believe him. 

Leehan glanced at your bowl, then back at you. “You really like it.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“The food.” He made a small, vague gesture toward your plate. “You looked happy.” 

Your gaze dropped immediately to your bowl, then back up to him, then down again, like you were trying to figure out whether your own face had betrayed you in some catastrophic way. 

Was your reaction really that obvious? 

“...Was it that bad?” you asked, already regretting the question halfway through saying it. Leehan frowned a little. “What?” 

“No, I mean—” You pointed vaguely at your own face. “Was my reaction weird?” That made him look genuinely confused, which was almost insulting in its own way. “No.” 

A pause. 

Then, a little more quietly, “I was just glad you liked it.” 

Something about that caught you off guard. 

Not because it was dramatic. Not because it was overly sentimental. It wasn’t either of those things. 

It was because he said it so casually like your opinion had actually mattered to him. Like he had been waiting to see whether you’d approve. 

The thought settled in your chest in a way that felt strangely unsettling, like your heart had briefly tripped over itself and decided to pretend nothing happened. 

Before you could fully process that, Leehan tilted his head slightly and added, completely serious, “You looked like an angelfish for a second.” 

You nearly choked. 

“...I what?” 

Your face heated instantly. You stared at him, and he stared right back, entirely calm, entirely composed, as if he had just shared the most normal observation in the world. 

An angelfish. 

What did that even mean? 

Was that a compliment? Was that an insult? 

Do angelfish look cute? Do angelfish look stupid?

Why, of all things, would he compare you to a fish? Specifically an angelfish? 

Unfortunately, your extensive knowledge of fish began and ended at the fact that they lived in water. 

You had absolutely no frame of reference for this. And the worst part was that Leehan didn’t even seem interested in clarifying. He simply picked up another bite of food and kept eating, like comparing people to fish was a normal part of conversation and not something that should have derailed your entire nervous system. 

Which, honestly, considering who you were talking to, maybe it was normal for him. 

You watched him suspiciously as he chewed, still looking faintly amused, still completely unbothered, and somehow that made everything worse. 

“Is that supposed to mean something?” you asked eventually. 

Leehan swallowed before answering. Then he tilted his head as if he were actually thinking it over. “You just reminded me of one.” 

“...How?” 

Another pause. 

Then he gave a small shrug. “I don’t know.” 

Which, annoyingly enough, felt like the most Leehan answer possible. 

You just stared at him. 

He stared back for a moment, then calmly returned to his food like the conversation had naturally ended there. That should have been the end of it. 

Instead, your disbelief lasted approximately three seconds before you started laughing. A real laugh this time. One that surprised even you. 

Because, ridiculous as the whole exchange was, there was nothing mean behind it. Nothing sharp. Nothing weird in a bad way. Leehan liked fish. Everyone knew that. Not in the casual way people liked fish. Not in the “oh yeah, aquariums are cool” kind of way. Leehan liked fish with the kind of intensity that suggested he would happily spend an entire afternoon explaining migration patterns if anyone gave him even half a chance. 

That was basically common knowledge by now. 

If he compared someone to a fish, he probably wasn’t trying to insult them. In fact, considering how much he seemed to adore fish in general, it might have been one of the nicest things he could possibly say. 

That realization made your face warm all over again, and you quickly looked back down at your bowl and took another bite in an attempt to recover your dignity. 

Leehan glanced up briefly, and the faint amusement was still there in his eyes. Not in a teasing way exactly, but in the quiet, pleased sort of way of someone who was clearly enjoying himself. Maybe he was still thinking about the angelfish comment. Or maybe he was just happy that you’d liked the food. Honestly, the second option seemed more likely. 

There was something quietly satisfied about him now, like he’d recommended a place he really liked and had been rewarded with the exact response he’d hoped for. It was a surprisingly cute expression, which was deeply unhelpful given the current state of your thoughts. 

Cute. 

The word landed in your brain entirely uninvited. 

You immediately shoved it away with both hands. 

Absolutely not. 

No.

Across from you, Leehan continued eating like he had no idea your internal world had just taken a direct hit. Calm. Content. Probably still thinking about fish. Definitely still looking a little too pleased with himself. 

And for the first time since the rest of the group had abandoned the two of you in the park, the silence between you didn’t feel suffocating anymore. 

It felt lighter. Warmer. Like maybe this afternoon wasn’t something you had to survive after all.

------------------------- 

By the time the two of you finally finished eating, you were more than satisfied. Actually, satisfied didn’t even feel like a strong enough word. 

The meal had been genuinely good in a way that felt almost unfair, the kind of food you immediately knew you’d come back for the next time you were anywhere near the area. You were already mentally bookmarking the restaurant like it had personally done you a favor. And more than that, you were quietly proud of yourself for making it this far without the world ending, because spending this much time alone with Leehan had gone… surprisingly well. 

Not perfectly. You were still nervous. Still a little awkward. Still very aware of the fact that you were sitting across from someone you’d known for years and somehow never really known at all. But nothing catastrophic had happened. No painfully forced silence you couldn’t survive. No sudden urge to flee. No social collapse. If anything, you were actually having a good time. 

Weirdly enough, that was the part that startled you most. 

You didn’t know what exactly you had expected when the day started, but it definitely wasn’t this. It wasn’t easy, exactly. Your heart still acted like it was trying to escape your chest every so often, and your brain still kept tripping over itself anytime Leehan looked at you for too long. 

But somewhere between the food, the quiet conversation, and the little moments that had started to feel less intimidating, the day had begun to settle into something softer. Something almost comfortable. 

You had just started to think that maybe you could finally relax, maybe the nervousness was beginning to fade enough for your body to remember how to behave normally, when both of you reached for the napkin box beside the table at the exact same time. 

It happened so naturally that neither of you seemed to register it until your fingers brushed. Just barely. Just enough. 

Your entire body reacted before your mind could. The weird, fluttering feeling in your chest came rushing back all at once, sharp and immediate, and you pulled your hand away so fast it was almost embarrassing. Leehan did the same, both of you freezing for the briefest second as if the tiny accidental touch had somehow short-circuited the entire table. 

“Oh—sorry, I didn’t mean to—” 

The words tumbled out of your mouth in one panicked mess, your voice ending awkwardly as you looked up at him. 

And then, for some reason, Leehan laughed. 

Not loudly. Not mockingly. Just softly, as if the entire thing had been a little too ridiculous not to laugh at. The moment he did, the tension in your shoulders cracked just enough for you to realize he was probably laughing for the same reason you were about to: because the two of you had been acting weird for so long that even the smallest accidental touch somehow felt like a plot twist. 

You let out a breathy laugh too, more from relief than anything else. 

It was awkward. It was still awkward. But suddenly it was the kind of awkward that felt shared instead of suffocating. 

Leehan was the first to speak again. “No, I’m sorry if that scared you.” 

Your head snapped up immediately.

“No, no,” you said quickly, shaking your head so hard it was almost comical. “I’m not scared of you at all. I was just surprised. Sorry if I made it seem like that.” 

The second the words left your mouth, you realized how badly you’d needed to say them. 

Because the truth was, you weren’t scared of Leehan. Not even a little. If anything, the last thing you wanted was for him to think you were treating him like some intimidating stranger. That was the exact opposite of what this was. You’d just been overthinking everything so much that your own nervousness had gotten in the way of making anything feel normal. 

Leehan seemed to understand that almost immediately. His expression softened in a way that made your chest do that stupid weird thing again. 

“It’s okay,” he said, calm and easy, like it hadn’t bothered him much at all. “I get it. We’re not exactly the closest out of the group.” 

For some reason, hearing him say it out loud made you feel strangely relieved. 

Not because it was sad, exactly. Not because it was some awful thing to admit. But because it meant you hadn’t imagined it. You hadn’t been the only one aware of that small, strange distance between the two of you. You’d both noticed it. You’d both been quietly orbiting around it without saying anything. And now it was finally out in the open. 

A little awkward. A little honest. A little more real. 

You gave a small nod, then let yourself smile, relieved enough to be a little bolder this time. “To be fair, I don’t think we’ve really had a lot of chances to hang out one-on-one,” you said. “Not compared to when we’re with everyone else, obviously.” 

That got something subtle to flicker across his face. Not a big smile. Not anything dramatic. Just a small brightening in his expression, like you’d said exactly the right thing without even trying. 

He nodded once in agreement, and for the first time all afternoon, the conversation between you felt properly real. Not forced. Not carefully measured. Just natural in a way that made you realize, belatedly, that you’d been carrying around way too much tension for no reason at all. 

The weird part was how much lighter you felt after saying it. Like naming the awkwardness had softened it. Like the moment you both admitted it had been weird, it stopped having so much power over you. 

And maybe that was what had been wrong the whole time. 

Leehan was your friend. That wasn’t supposed to be complicated. 

He was just like the others—just quieter, harder to read, a little more elusive in the way he moved through the group. But still your friend. Still someone you could talk to. Still someone who, apparently, could make a restaurant lunch feel strangely warm and quietly meaningful just by being there. 

Treating him like some distant mystery when he’d been standing right there the whole time. Not a stranger. Not a problem. 

Just Leehan. 

And maybe that was exactly why this felt different now. 

When the two of you stepped out of the restaurant, the afternoon air felt softer somehow, like the day had settled into something calmer without either of you really noticing. You were still carrying the quiet satisfaction of a really good meal, still vaguely impressed with yourself for making it through lunch with Leehan alone without the world ending in an emotionally devastating way. Honestly, that alone felt worth celebrating. 

And maybe that was part of why it became so much easier to notice him. Not in some dramatic, swoon worthy way, you told yourself immediately. Nothing like that. 

It was just that, now that there wasn’t a whole group around to split your attention, there was suddenly a lot more room to notice things you’d probably always skimmed over before. The way Leehan’s profile looked when he glanced down while walking beside you. The shape of his nose. The line of his jaw. The way his hair fell just enough to soften everything somehow, even while making him look unfairly put together.

And when he smiled at something you said, it was worse — because somehow his smile made him look even more annoyingly good-looking than before, like he’d been designed specifically to make other people lose concentration.

You told yourself that was all it was. Just noticing. 

Because how else were you supposed to feel after spending years around someone mostly in a group setting, only to suddenly find yourself alone with him and actually looking at him properly? It made perfect sense. Completely reasonable. You were not being weird about it. You were simply realizing, a little belatedly, that Leehan was undeniably, irritatingly attractive in a way that had probably always been true, but had only become impossible to ignore now that there was no one else around to distract you. 

That explanation should have been enough. 

Unfortunately, your heart did not seem especially interested in listening. 

It kept doing that stupid little fluttering thing every time he turned toward you, every time his voice softened a little, every time he looked at you like he was actually listening. You were very determined to call it nothing. Purely observational. A normal human response to finally having time to properly notice someone you’d known for years. 

Definitely not anything else. 

You were still arguing with yourself over that when you finally worked up the courage to speak. 

“Hey, Leehan,” you said, trying to keep your voice casual as the two of you walked. “I was thinking of grabbing dessert. Are you okay with having ice cream? It’s my treat. I want to thank you for bringing me here. I’m definitely coming back.” 

You meant it, too. 

Not just the dessert part. The whole thing. The restaurant, the lunch, the weirdly nice afternoon that had somehow managed to happen despite your brain preparing for disaster the entire time. It had all been unexpectedly good. And if you were being honest, you kind of wanted to keep the afternoon going a little longer. 

Leehan turned to look at you, and his smile was one of those annoyingly easy ones that made it impossible to pretend you weren’t noticing. 

“Ice cream sounds good,” he said. “Let’s go.” 

No hesitation. No overthinking. No making your invitation feel weird or too much. Just a simple yes, said like of course he’d go with you, like of course it was fine, like the two of you had every reason in the world to keep spending time together. 

You almost sighed in relief. Instead, you smiled back and started walking with him again. 

The conversation that followed was light and easy, the kind that made the walk feel shorter than it should have. You talked about small things, nothing serious, just enough to keep the silence from getting heavy.

And because you were walking beside Leehan with no one else around, it became increasingly difficult not to notice more things about him than you probably should have. 

The way he looked when he listened to you. The way his expression shifted just slightly when he was thinking. The way his side profile was somehow even worse than his face front-on, which felt deeply unfair and almost rude. You absolutely told yourself that this was only because you’d never really had a chance to look at him like this before.

Which was true. Mostly. Or at least, it was true enough for you to keep saying it. 

Then, midway through the walk, Leehan said something so casually that it almost made you stop. “I actually tried the gummies you recommended once.” 

You blinked and turned toward him. “...You did?” 

He nodded, and there was something a little shy in the way he said it, like he hadn’t planned to bring it up right then but had decided it was worth telling you anyway. 

“They were really good,” he said. “I buy them pretty often now.” 

That made you pause, not because it was a huge thing, but because it was unexpectedly sweet. You frowned a little, trying to remember the moment he was talking about.

“Wait,” you said. “Did I recommend those?” 

Leehan let out a soft laugh, and it was gentle enough that you could feel your face warming before you even had time to react to it. 

“It was in the group chat,” he explained. “Everyone was talking about what food they were craving. You mentioned those gummies, and I like sweets, so I got curious and tried them the next day.” 

That made you remember it. Vaguely. 

The group chat. The food conversation. Something you’d tossed out without thinking much of it. And somehow Leehan had seen it, remembered it, tried it, and liked it enough to keep buying it. That was such a small detail, but it made him feel even more attentive in a way that was almost unfair. 

You laughed softly. “Well, I’m glad you like them too now.” 

Leehan glanced down at his bag, fiddled with the zipper for a second, and then pulled out a pack of the gummies. He held them out to you with a small smile that was somehow both casual and absurdly cute. 

“Here,” he said. “Take them. As thanks for recommending them.” 

You stared at him for half a second before looking at the gummies, then back at his face. That was dangerous, in a very quiet way. 

Not because it was dramatic. Not because it meant anything in some grand romantic sense. But because he was just so naturally thoughtful about small things, so easy about giving you something back as if it mattered, and that kind of kindness had a way of sneaking up on you. 

You let out a soft, warm laugh and took the gummies from him, your fingers brushing his for the briefest second. 

It was probably nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just a tiny accident. 

A normal thing. A completely normal thing you were not going to overthink. 

You slipped the gummies into your bag and smiled. “Thank you.” 

Leehan nodded, still wearing that small, easy smile. 

And that was when it really clicked for you. 

Leehan was weird. But in the fondest possible way. 

Not weird in a bad sense, or even in a hard-to-like sense. Just the kind of weird that only became clear when you were close enough to notice it properly. The fish guidebook. The angelfish comment. Remembering a gummy recommendation from a random group chat and bringing it up like it was important. The way he did all of it so naturally, as if this was simply who he was. 

It was the sort of weird people meant affectionately, the kind you didn’t fully understand until you’d spent enough time with someone to see the softer edges underneath it. 

And maybe that was why it was getting harder to ignore him the longer you were with him. Not because you were suddenly realizing something dramatic. 

Just because Leehan was annoyingly, undeniably good-looking, and now that you were finally spending time with him like this, it was becoming harder and harder to pretend you hadn’t always known that on some level. 

You told yourself that was all it was. That you were simply noticing him properly for the first time. That you were just learning new things about a friend you hadn’t spent much time alone with before. 

That was normal. That was fine. That was definitely all that was happening. 

And yet, for the rest of the walk, you couldn’t stop smiling. 

-------------------- 

By the time the two of you reached the ice cream shop, the afternoon had settled into something quiet and pleasantly familiar. The little bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside, and the warm, cozy atmosphere hit you immediately, just like it always did. It was the kind of place that felt stitched into the neighborhood itself—small, family-run, run by the owner and her husband, with the owner usually stationed behind the counter and greeting regulars by name. 

Which was exactly what happened the moment she looked up and saw you. Her face brightened instantly. 

“There you are,” she said, smiling in a way that made the place feel even more like home. 

You smiled back easily, already relaxing into the comfort of being somewhere you knew well. But then her eyes drifted to Leehan beside you, and her expression changed just enough to make you pause. She looked him over once, then back at you, then back at him again, the kind of look that felt less like surprise and more like quiet interest. 

You didn’t think too much of it at first. Honestly, you just assumed she was reacting to the fact that you had never brought Leehan here alone before. Which was true. 

You had brought the others here plenty of times. Sungho especially, since he was apparently one of the few people in your circle who had no issue willingly coming to an ice cream shop whenever the mood struck. Taesan, on the other hand, had somehow managed to avoid this place every time you brought it up, mostly because he had declared multiple times, with entirely too much confidence for someone who had never even tried the menu properly, that he was “not an ice cream person.” 

The memory made you laugh before you could stop yourself. 

Leehan turned toward you, a small question in his eyes. “What?” 

You shook your head, trying and failing to suppress your smile. “Nothing. It’s just funny.” 

That didn’t seem to answer anything, but before he could ask, you were already thinking about how absurd it was that Leehan was here with you before Taesan had ever bothered to come. It felt like a tiny personal victory for absolutely no reason at all, and now that you were thinking about it, you couldn’t help but want to share it with him. 

So you looked up at Leehan and said, still smiling, “You know, it’s kind of funny that you’re here before Taesan.” 

His brows lifted slightly. “Before Taesan?” 

“Yeah.” You glanced toward the counter, then back at him, still amused. “He keeps saying he’s not an ice cream person, so I’ve never been able to drag him here. But somehow you got here first.” 

Leehan’s expression shifted, just a little. Not much. Just enough to suggest that he found that unexpectedly entertaining too. 

You added, because it really did make you laugh, “So this is kind of a weird achievement, actually.” 

That got the smallest twitch of a smile out of him, and the sight of it made your own grin widen before you could help it. 

The owner had already started moving toward the counter, her expression still bright and observant in that way regulars learn to recognize. She seemed to be watching the two of you with the kind of quiet delight that made you feel vaguely exposed, though you couldn’t have said why. 

You ordered first, and she nodded immediately as if she already knew what was coming. Which, to be fair, she probably did. You always ordered strawberry here. It wasn’t your favorite flavor overall— cookies and cream was—but this shop made strawberry ice cream so well that you never felt like choosing anything else when you came here. 

Then Leehan spoke. 

“I remember you said your favorite flavor was cookies and cream,” he said, looking at you, “but you always get strawberry here.” 

And that was enough to make you freeze. Not dramatically. Not in a huge, cinematic way. 

Just enough for your thoughts to stop for a second and then scramble to catch up. Because that wasn’t even something you had said just once. 

You had mentioned it before. Casually. More than once, actually. During little group walks, or while waiting for everyone to decide where to go next, or in those random conversations where people started talking about desserts and favorite flavors and you’d absentmindedly say that cookies and cream was still the best flavor overall. 

Nothing important. Nothing memorable, at least not to you. But Leehan had remembered. 

Not just the flavor. The fact that you liked this shop’s strawberry more. The little contradiction between what you usually liked and what you actually ordered here. 

It was such a tiny detail. And somehow that made it feel even more intimate. 

You looked at him, genuinely surprised. 

Then, because your brain had already decided to be stupid before your mouth could catch up, you said, “It’s so cute that you remember my favorite flavor.” 

The second the words left your mouth, you realized they might have come out a little more emotional than intended. 

Leehan blinked. That was the first thing you noticed. 

Just a small, quick blink, like he hadn’t expected the words to land quite that hard. 

His face stayed mostly calm, but there was a brief flicker of something in his expression—something that looked a little uncertain, maybe even shy, though it passed so quickly you almost wondered if you’d imagined it. 

His gaze lowered for a second before returning to you. 

“Do you think it’s weird that I remember that?” he asked, his voice still even, but quieter now. “I mean… you’ve mentioned it a lot. Not just once. During walks, too. And when we’ve all hung out. I just—” 

He stopped himself there for half a beat, as if deciding how much explanation was enough. 

You could tell, even without him saying it outright, that he was worried he’d somehow made it strange. And that made something in your chest twist unexpectedly. 

“No,” you said immediately, shaking your head. “Not weird at all. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant it’s sweet.” 

Leehan looked at you for a moment, and you thought, briefly and irrationally, that he looked like he was still trying to decide whether to believe you. 

So you softened your voice and added, “I’m glad you remember the things I like.” 

That did it. The uncertainty in his face eased almost at once, and the small smile that followed was quiet but unmistakably genuine. It made your own expression soften before you could stop it, which was deeply unhelpful. 

The owner had been watching the entire exchange with a smile that was growing more and more impossible to ignore. You only noticed it properly when she handed over your order and leaned in just slightly, as if she had decided the moment called for a private comment. 

Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. 

“You never told me you had a boyfriend!” 

Your entire face went hot instantly. 

“What—no, he’s not my boyfriend!” you blurted, nearly tripping over the words in your panic. 

Leehan, beside you, went still. Completely still. You were fairly certain that he had become more frozen than every single tub of ice cream behind the counter. 

It was subtle, but you felt it immediately. A tiny change in the air between you, a brief pause that made your heart jump for no good reason. You were suddenly aware of every second that passed. 

“He’s just part of my friend group,” you said quickly, trying to recover before the situation could become even worse. “I’ve brought the others here before—especially Sungho—but this is the first time you’ve seen me here with Leehan alone.”

The owner looked between the two of you with a smile that was far too knowing for your current emotional state. 

“Really?” she said, sounding openly amused now. “The two of you seemed a little different from when you usually come with your friends, so I thought—” 

You felt your soul leave your body. 

Different? Different how? 

Why did she say it like that? 

Were you and Leehan actually that obvious? 

Had you been standing there like a couple without realizing it? 

The thought hit so fast that your brain nearly short-circuited around it. 

Before you could ask any of the questions crowding your head, one of the part-time workers rushed in with perfect timing, clearly sensing the exact level of disaster approaching the counter. They apologized on the owner’s behalf with the kind of speed and professionalism that deserved a medal, then gently ushered her away before she could say anything else. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. 

“Thank you,” you said to the part-timer, still half-laughing, half-panicking. “I really had no idea where that was going.” 

They gave you a sympathetic little smile and went back to work, leaving you standing there with your ice cream order and a heart that was suddenly far too aware of itself. 

Then, slowly, you turned back toward Leehan. And froze. 

Because he was looking at you too. 

Only now, there was a faint pink tint across his cheeks that hadn’t been there a moment ago. It wasn’t dramatic, and that somehow made it worse. 

His expression was still mostly controlled—still Leehan, still calm, still that same composed version of himself you were used to seeing—but there was something just beneath it now. Something quieter. A little caught. His lips were parted just slightly, like he had started to say something and then thought better of it. His eyes looked a touch wider too, not in a startled way, but in a way that made him seem suddenly, unfairly human. 

You stared. Not on purpose. It was just that he looked different like this. Not in a huge way. Just enough for you to notice the tension that had slipped in under his usual calm. 

The slight uncertainty in his face. The way he looked as though he was trying very hard to remain normal after the owner’s comment, even though something about it had obviously landed somewhere deeper than he wanted it to. 

And that, for some reason, made your own heart thump a little harder. You didn’t know what to do with that. 

So the two of you just stood there for a second, looking at each other with the same startled silence. 

It felt ridiculous. It felt awkward. It felt like something had shifted without either of you meaning for it to. Then you looked away first, your face still burning, and somehow that only made the moment feel even more charged. 

You fixed your gaze on the ice cream in your hand. 

Yes, the ice cream was suddenly very interesting. A work of art, really. Anything was better than making eye contact again. Unfortunately— 

“That was unexpected.” Leehan spoke first. 

Of course he did. His voice sounded mostly normal. 

You risked glancing up. The faint pink in his cheeks was still there. Your heart immediately chose betrayal. 

You nodded too quickly. “Very unexpected.”

Leehan looked away for a second, and then, to your surprise, let out a quiet laugh. It was soft and brief, the same kind of laugh you’d been hearing from him all day. 

“She seemed convinced,” he said. 

That made you laugh too, though mostly because the only other option was to dissolve on the spot. “Very convinced,” you agreed. A short silence followed. 

Neither of you really knew what to do with the moment now that it was hanging there between you. You both knew it was awkward. You both felt it. 

And somehow, neither of you seemed willing to point it out too directly. 

Then Leehan flicked a glance toward the back room, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. “I think she likes you,” he said. 

You stared at him. “What?” 

“The owner,” he clarified, giving a small nod. “I think she was happy for you.” 

Your brain promptly short-circuited. 

Happy for you? 

Somehow that sounded even worse. Because the meaning behind it was way too obvious. Painfully obvious. 

You quickly shoved a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth just to give yourself a second to recover. Leehan watched you do it, and there was the faintest hint of amusement in his expression. 

And for some reason, that tiny smile, that lingering blush, and the fact that he was standing there with his own ice cream in hand after spending the whole day with you made your chest feel strangely warm. It had nothing to do with the weather. 

You weren’t entirely sure what the feeling was. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. But as the two of you left the counter and headed toward a nearby table, one thought kept circling back no matter how hard you tried to push it away. 

Leehan had always been your friend. That part hadn’t changed. What had changed was realizing just how much you liked being with him. 

And somehow, that realization felt a lot more dangerous than the owner’s misunderstanding ever had. 

The two of you ended up at a small table by the window without really discussing it. Neither of you had the energy, or perhaps the courage, to keep circling back to the owner’s comment and whatever strange little earthquake it had set off between you. So when the nearest table opened up, you simply drifted toward it like two people who had both privately agreed not to mention the elephant in the room as long as it stayed politely seated elsewhere. 

Leehan sat across from you. Again. 

You noticed that immediately. Again. 

It was becoming a problem, honestly, how quickly your brain latched onto the fact that he was across from you in a quiet little ice cream shop with sunlight landing softly on his face like the universe had decided to make things more difficult on purpose. At least this time you had a cup of strawberry ice cream in your hands, which gave your fingers something to do and your thoughts somewhere to hide. 

You took a spoonful on reflex. The strawberry was, as always, excellent. Cold and sweet and slightly too good for something so simple. It gave you a tiny, blessed second of focus. 

Across from you, Leehan ate his own ice cream in a way that was strangely careful, as though he was paying actual attention to each spoonful instead of just finishing it because it was there. You found yourself noticing that, too. Of course you did. It felt like your brain had entered a new and deeply inconvenient phase where every tiny thing Leehan did was suddenly worthy of observation. 

He brought another spoonful to his mouth, slow and neat. You stared for a beat too long and then looked away, because apparently that was your new hobby now.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward anymore, not exactly. It had shifted into something more fragile than that. Thoughtful, maybe. Suspiciously calm. The owner’s misunderstanding had effectively stunned both of you into a kind of temporary emotional paralysis, which was unfair, because now your brain had become much louder than before. 

They thought we looked like a couple. 

You took another spoonful of ice cream immediately, as if you could physically bury the thought under enough strawberry. 

Nope. Not thinking about that. Not unpacking that. Not touching it with a ten-foot pole.

Unfortunately, your mind had already sprinted several blocks ahead of you. 

Different. 

That was the word the owner had used. You stared down into your cup like it might offer a legal defense. 

Different compared to what? Different compared to the other times you came here with friends? Different compared to how normal friends acted? Different in the way that made a stranger instantly decide the two of you were something else entirely? 

You did not want to know the answer. (You very much did want to know the answer. Which was, frankly, exhausting.) 

A spoon suddenly appeared in your line of sight. 

You blinked and looked up. 

Leehan was holding his cup slightly forward. “Try this,” he said. 

Your thoughts derailed so completely it was almost impressive. “What?” 

“It’s good.” 

You looked down at his ice cream. Caramel, maybe? Something warm-toned and pale and much more dangerous than it had any right to be, given that it was just frozen dairy in a cup. You hesitated for a second, then accepted the spoonful he offered. 

The flavor hit your tongue and immediately made your eyes widen. 

“Oh.” 

Leehan’s face changed at once. It was subtle, but you caught it. The tiniest lift in his expression, as if something in him had brightened the moment he saw you react. 

“There,” he said, sounding a little too pleased with himself. 

You pointed at him. “What?” 

“That face.” 

“What face?” 

“The one you make when you like something.” 

You stared. “I do not make a face.” 

Leehan lifted his brows, unconvinced in the way only someone entirely too observant could be. “You absolutely do.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “I think you're making one right now.” 

That made him glance at you with a look that was almost offended, which would have been more effective if the expression hadn’t been so soft around the edges. It was the kind of face that probably would’ve vanished in a second if someone else were here, but because it was just you and him and the window and the quiet afternoon, you saw it properly. And once you saw it, you were doomed.

Because Leehan’s expressions were too easy to read once you paid attention. The tiny shift in his mouth when he was satisfied. The way his eyes softened when he laughed. The almost invisible little pause he made before speaking, as though he always considered his words just one second longer than everyone else did. 

He had this way of being calm without ever being flat, and the more you noticed it, the more impossible it became to ignore. 

Dangerous, you thought, then immediately regretted thinking it. 

Leehan tilted his head slightly. “You do that.” 

Your heart tripped. “Do what?” 

“You look away when someone points something out about you.” 

You froze with your spoon halfway to your mouth. “What?” 

He didn’t seem to realize he’d just said something devastating in a very casual tone. He simply took another bite of ice cream and added, “You’re doing it right now.” 

You stared at him for a second, then immediately turned your gaze toward the window instead, because apparently that was easier than trying to keep your face functioning normally. Leehan, annoyingly calm, just watched you for a moment. 

You let out a small, helpless laugh and looked back at him, still feeling a little thrown off by the whole thing. “I don’t usually do that,” you admitted, almost as if you were defending yourself. “At least, I don’t think I do. I don’t know why I keep doing weird things today.” 

The words came out more honestly than you meant them to. 

You made a vague gesture with your spoon, as if that could somehow explain the fact that your entire nervous system had been acting like it had lost its job. “I guess I’m just… all over the place.” 

Leehan’s expression barely changed, but something in it softened in a way you almost missed. He looked like he was trying very hard not to make a bigger deal out of your confession than necessary, which somehow made it feel even more intimate. 

“Maybe,” he said quietly, like he was considering your words. Then, after a tiny pause, “Maybe it’s just me.” 

That made you blink. “What do you mean?” 

He shrugged one shoulder, still looking calm, still looking like he hadn’t meant anything too serious by it. “Maybe you only do it around me.” 

There was no dramatics in his tone. No visible attempt to impress. Nothing that would’ve given away how much the idea clearly pleased him. But something in the way he said it—small, restrained, almost careless on the surface—made it feel like he was quietly happy about the possibility. 

Like the idea that you might only get this flustered, this distracted, this unlike yourself around him was somehow… nice. Maybe even adorable. 

(He didn’t say any of that, of course.) 

Leehan was far too good at keeping things tucked behind that calm, unreadable face of his. But the thought was there anyway, hidden somewhere in the softness of his gaze, in the way he looked at you just a second too long before returning to his ice cream like nothing had happened. 

And somehow, that made everything feel even worse. Or better. 

You weren’t sure which. For a moment, neither of you spoke. 

Then Leehan asked, “What do you usually do here?” 

You looked back at him. “Hm?” 

“When you come.” 

“Oh.” You gave the question an actual thought. “Usually I come with Sungho.”

He nodded once, like that fit neatly into a mental file somewhere. You did not want to think about that. 

“We just sit here,” you said, gesturing vaguely with your spoon. “Eat ice cream. Complain about school. Avoid responsibility.” 

“That sounds like Sungho.” 

“It does.” 

“You complain too.” 

“I do complain.” 

“You do.” 

You laughed despite yourself. “Are you keeping a file on me or something?” 

It was meant to be a joke. A harmless little joke. A throwaway line. 

Leehan, however, actually considered it. Not for long. Just long enough to make you regret asking. “No,” he said finally. 

Then, after a beat, with complete seriousness: “Not intentionally.” 

You stared at him. “What does that mean?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“How do you not know?” 

He glanced down at his cup, then at his spoon, as though the answer might be hiding there. “I’m usually just listening.” 

The words were quiet. Simple. As if they were the most ordinary thing in the world. And somehow that made them hit harder. 

Because he was telling the truth, and you could tell he was telling the truth. Leehan really did listen differently. Not half-heartedly. Not in the way people sometimes nodded along just to be polite and then forgot everything the second the conversation ended. He actually paid attention. To small things. To passing comments. To random details that other people would let drift away without ever touching them again. 

Apparently, he kept them. Sometimes for a long time. It explained too much. 

It explained the gummy thing. It explained the ice cream flavor thing. It explained why he seemed to know the little pieces of you that had slipped out of your mouth during casual group hangs and walks and conversations you hadn’t thought twice about. 

A warm feeling settled in your chest, unexpected and difficult to name. It didn’t leave. It just stayed there, low and strange and strangely pleasant, while Leehan sat across from you like he had no idea he was accidentally causing it. 

Your eyes dropped to the pack of gummies tucked into your bag—the ones he’d given you earlier—and then flicked back up to him. 

Without meaning to, you smiled. Small. Quiet. Unforced. Leehan noticed immediately. “You seem happy,” he said. 

Your heart performed a very rude little jump. Again. 

You were beginning to resent how often that was happening today. 

“I’m eating ice cream,” you said, because apparently you were becoming a liar now. Leehan’s gaze stayed on you. “That’s not what I meant.” 

You paused. 

And because the thing about Leehan was that he somehow always made you feel like he could tell when you were lying to yourself, the smile faltered just enough for you to look away first. He didn’t push. He didn’t ask you to explain. He simply let it exist between you, the way he seemed to do with everything else—quietly, patiently, as if he had no interest in forcing anything that wasn’t ready to happen on its own.

That was probably the part that made it worse. Not worse in a bad way. Worse in the sense that it made you feel things you could not immediately sort into neat, harmless categories. 

Because if today had gone as planned, if the group hangout had happened the way it was supposed to, if the others had come along and filled all the spaces in between, then you would’ve gone home thinking Leehan was exactly what you’d always thought he was: a friend you’d known for years but never really looked at closely enough. 

You would’ve missed the gummy story. You would’ve missed the way he remembered tiny comments you’d tossed out without thinking. You would’ve missed the way he laughed with his eyes half-closed. You would’ve missed the tiny shifts in his face when he was pleased, or embarrassed, or quietly amused. 

You would’ve missed all of it. 

And somehow, that thought made you grateful. 

Because for the first time, it felt like you were really getting to know him. Not the version of him that lived in a crowd. Not the version everyone else seemed to know. 

Just Leehan. The actual Leehan. The one who listened too closely and remembered too much and smiled in ways that made it hard not to stare. 

The realization sat between you for a moment, soft and strange and warm. Maybe that was why this afternoon already felt like something you’d remember longer than it had any right to be. 

You and Leehan sat there for a little while longer, finishing your ice cream in a quiet way that didn’t feel empty. It felt easy. Full, somehow. Like neither of you was in any rush to break it. 

When your cup was nearly empty, you finally set the spoon down and looked at him. “We should probably go.” 

Leehan nodded once. “Yeah.” 

He stood first, then waited while you gathered your things, as if that was the most natural thing in the world. Then he moved toward the exit, and this time you fell into step beside him. 

It was such a small thing that you almost didn’t notice it at first. Almost. 

Earlier, when you had first left the park, you’d been following a half-step behind him, awkward in that half-finished way that came from not quite knowing what you were to each other yet. There had been space between you then. Enough space to pretend things were simple. 

Now, though, you were walking side by side. That should have meant nothing. 

It did not mean nothing. 

It made the whole walk feel different — less like you were trailing after him, and more like you were moving with him. The change was subtle, but once you noticed it, you couldn’t stop noticing it. The sun had started to lower by the time you stepped outside, turning the street into something softer at the edges. The light caught on the pavement, warm and golden, and for a second the whole world looked like it had been deliberately arranged to be more annoying than usual. 

Because of course Leehan looked especially good in it. That was unfair enough on its own. 

The sunlight caught the side of his face when he turned his head to glance at you, and you had to look away almost immediately, because there was no good reason for him to look that annoyingly pretty while also standing there like he had no idea he was doing it. It was deeply rude, honestly. 

You stared very hard at the sidewalk. 

The problem was that the sunset was not helping. It painted everything warm and soft and gave the whole walk an almost dreamy quality, which would have been nice if you weren’t already painfully aware of the fact that Leehan was beside you, quiet and composed and somehow even more impossible to look at than usual under the late-afternoon light. 

Leehan walked beside you without saying much, and it should’ve felt normal. 

It did not feel normal.

It felt like the kind of silence that made you hyperaware of every tiny thing — the way his sleeve brushed yours once when the path narrowed, the way he slowed whenever you did, the way he looked so unbothered by all of it that it somehow made you more aware of everything. 

After a few steps, Leehan glanced at you. “Are you still happy?” 

You turned your head. “Hm?” 

He looked almost too casual, except his eyes were on you in that steady, too-aware way of his. “From earlier.” 

Your chest did the same rude little jump it had been doing all day. You were starting to get used to it at this point. 

You looked away first. “I told you. I was eating ice cream.” 

Leehan’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t let you off that easily. “That wasn’t the answer.” You tried very hard not to smile. It didn’t really work. 

The station wasn’t far, but the walk somehow felt longer than it should have, like neither of you was in any hurry to reach the end of the day. Maybe that was because it was easier to keep moving than to sit still and name whatever had started happening between you. 

By the time the station finally came into view, the night had settled in completely. 

The last traces of daylight were gone, and the station lights made everything feel softer, quieter, a little more unreal. The walk had slowed without either of you really meaning to, like neither of you was in any hurry to let the day end. 

Leehan stopped near the entrance and looked at you. 

“This is it,” he said. 

You nodded. “Yeah.” 

He glanced toward the gate, then back at you. 

“Text me when you get home.” 

The sentence was simple, but it landed with a little more weight than it should have. Before you could answer, there was a rustle from the side. You both turned. 

And there they were — five very guilty faces emerging from behind a station column, a potted plant, and a signboard that had failed to hide anyone properly. 

Woonhak popped out from behind a column with an awkward smile and gave both of you a tiny wave. “Hi.” 

Leehan stared. “What are you doing?” 

Woonhak pointed at him with total confidence. 

“We followed you because we were worried the two of you would somehow spend the whole day doing absolutely nothing productive.” 

Leehan blinked. “What?” 

Woonhak shrugged. 

“And I thought if we nudged you two a little closer, Leehan would finally show her what he feels.” 

He glanced between the two of you, then added, almost sheepishly, “I just didn’t expect it to go this well.” 

Leehan just stared at him. Once. Twice. Then he frowned harder, like he was trying to process whether Woonhak had actually said all of that out loud. 

“What do you mean?”

Woonhak looked delighted that Leehan had no idea what was happening. 

“Your crush on Y/N.” 

Leehan looked between him, the others, and you. Then back at Woonhak. 

“I don’t—” He stopped, then tried again, more confused now than embarrassed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

That made the others react immediately. 

Taesan sighed like he had been waiting for this all day. 

Riwoo crossed his arms. “He’s really lost.” 

Sungho nodded once. “Completely.” 

Jaehyun muttered, “That’s somehow worse.” 

Leehan looked even more baffled. “Why is that worse?” 

Woonhak looked almost thrilled by how genuinely confused he was. 

“Because,” he said, “you have been acting insanely obvious all day and you still don’t know.” Leehan’s brows pulled together. “I have not.” 

Woonhak made a sound of disbelief. 

“Okay, then let’s go through the evidence. We decided to follow you both today, because we wanted to know how it goes, but the two of you were giving off extremely suspicious date energy.” 

Leehan’s eyes widened. “You followed us?” 

“Of course we did,” Woonhak said. “We’re not amateurs.” 

Leehan looked like he was one step away from leaving the country. “That is not comforting.” “It’s not meant to be,” Riwoo said. 

Woonhak turned to Taesan first. 

“Concert tickets.” 

Taesan stepped forward like a man presenting Exhibit A. “You gave me concert tickets,” he said. Leehan blinked. “Yes?” 

Taesan crossed his arms. 

“Two weeks ago.” 

Leehan looked faintly confused now. “Right.” 

“And the concert is next week.” 

Leehan nodded slowly. “Yes.” 

Taesan stared at him. “You bought two tickets and gave them to me. Then you told me to watch the concert with Y/N.” 

Leehan looked even more lost. “Because she’d have more fun with you.” 

Taesan made a face like that was the exact wrong answer and somehow also the exact problem. “That is not a normal thing to say.” 

Leehan frowned. “It made sense at the time.” 

Woonhak immediately turned toward the others like he’d just been handed gold.

“Do you hear him? At the time.” 

Taesan ignored him and looked straight at you. 

“The cat is out of the bag now,” he said, with the calm severity of someone who had been waiting for this moment. Then he lifted the tickets slightly. “So I’m giving these back to him.” 

Leehan’s eyes widened. “What?” 

Taesan gave him a flat look. 

“You can ask her yourself now.” 

That made the whole group react at once. Woonhak looked delighted. Riwoo looked vindicated. Sungho looked like he had just watched a long-running headache finally become someone else’s problem. Jaehyun let out a quiet laugh. Meanwhile, Leehan just stood there, stunned, like he’d been handed a second chance before he even understood the first one. 

Taesan glanced at you, then added, almost casually, “Now that you two know each other a little better, he can stop pretending this was a purely logistical decision.” 

Woonhak made a dramatic noise. “Oh, that’s evil.” 

Taesan’s mouth twitched. “I know.” 

Leehan was still trying to recover when Sungho stepped in. 

“And then there was the umbrella.” 

Leehan turned to him. “What about it?” 

Sungho folded his arms. “It was raining. She didn’t have one. You handed her yours and walked off into the rain.” 

Leehan looked genuinely confused. “She needed it.” 

“You're saying that like you didn't need it too,” Sungho said flatly. 

“So?” 

“Leehan,” Sungho said flatly, “you caught a cold for three days. You still gave her the umbrella.” Woonhak made a dramatic sound of despair. “That is the problem!” 

Leehan just stared at them, looking like he couldn’t understand why everyone was treating him like a case file with missing pages. 

Riwoo stepped forward next. 

“The convenience store.” 

Leehan blinked again. 

“She couldn’t find her drink,” Riwoo said. “But then you disappeared and somehow came back carrying the exact drink she was looking for.” 

Leehan frowned. “I only remembered where they put those.” 

Riwoo pointed at him immediately. “Exactly.” 

Leehan looked even more bewildered. “What does that mean?” 

“It means,” Jaehyun said, “you remembered her favorite drink, and where you can find it, without her asking.” 

Leehan looked genuinely puzzled. “So?” 

The five of them went silent. Then Woonhak slapped a hand over his chest like the man had personally wounded him. 

“That is exactly what we mean.”

He turned sharply to the last piece. 

“And the favorite food.” 

Leehan’s confusion deepened. “What about that?” 

Woonhak pointed at him like he had caught him in the act. 

“You remember her second favorite food too, not just her favorite food. And you even remember where she first tried it.” 

Leehan hesitated. Then, after a beat, he said quietly, “She literally told us that. You guys were there too.” 

The whole group went still. 

Leehan looked around at their faces, still genuinely unsure why everyone had gone so quiet. “I mean,” he added, “I was just listening.” 

Woonhak stared at him for a long second. He then turned to the others with the expression of someone who had just found the final piece of a puzzle. 

“Guys. He remembers everything she says.” 

Leehan looked offended by the tone, not the content. “That’s not weird.” 

Riwoo gave him a flat look. “Leehan, you remembered her drink, her favorite food, her second favorite food, where she tried it, what flavor she usually gets from a specific store, and where she’d be better off going today.” 

Leehan opened his mouth. Closed it. Then frowned. “I was just being considerate.” Sungho looked at him like he had just confirmed the entire case. 

“That is also the problem.” 

Leehan looked at all of them now, completely bewildered. 

“I don’t understand why this is happening.” 

And that, more than anything, made Woonhak look delighted. 

“Exactly,” he said. “Because you’re down horrendous and you don’t even know it yet.” Leehan stared at him. Then at you. Then back at Woonhak. 

“I’m what?” 

Woonhak spread his arms wide, as if the answer was obvious. 

“You have a crush on her.” 

Leehan’s expression went blank. Not embarrassed. Not flustered. Just stunned. “On her?” he repeated, like he needed to hear it again because it still didn’t make sense. The members all went quiet for half a second. 

Then, slowly, the realization started to move across his face. Not suddenly. Not dramatically. Just enough. 

“Oh,” he muttered. 

No one spoke. 

Leehan looked down for a second, then back up, a little stunned. 

“Oh,” he repeated, quieter this time.

Then he let out a breath and said, almost helplessly, “Oh. Yeah… maybe I do.” 

The station erupted. 

Woonhak looked like he might physically float away with triumph. Riwoo looked vindicated. Sungho looked exhausted but satisfied. Jaehyun pointed at Leehan like, finally. Taesan just sighed like a man who had survived too much. 

You laughed, because it was impossible not to. 

Leehan dragged a hand down his face, embarrassment returning full force now that the confusion had cleared. “This is humiliating.” 

“Yes,” Woonhak said immediately. “It is.” 

Leehan glanced at you, still pink at the ears, and something in his expression softened. But now there was worry there too. A little uncertainty. Like he was suddenly thinking ten steps ahead. Like maybe this changed things. Like maybe he had just said too much, or not enough. 

He looked down, then back up again, quieter now. 

“I mean… I really didn’t know.” 

You smiled, gently this time. “I know.” 

He looked at you for a second longer, and then the worry slipped in more clearly. 

“Does that…” he started, then stopped. He looked away for a second, then back at you. “Does that make this weird?” 

The question was so careful, so Leehan, that your chest warmed immediately. He wasn’t asking because he expected the worst. He was asking because he didn’t want to lose the easy way things felt between you. Because somewhere in the middle of all that teasing and all those clues, he’d finally realized he liked you — and now he was a little scared that knowing it out loud might change how you saw him. 

Your expression softened. 

“No,” you said, almost at once. “Not weird.” 

Leehan looked at you like he was waiting for the part where you said but. There wasn’t one. You took a small breath and gave him a smile that felt a little warmer than the others. 

“I actually want to do this again,” you admitted. “And I’d like to get to know you better.” That made him go still. His eyes widened just a little, like he hadn’t quite expected that answer. You smiled a little more, because now that the surprise had settled, the truth of it felt simple. “I’m not bothered by it at all,” you added. “Honestly… it’s kind of cute.” 

That got him. Leehan looked away for half a second, his ears turning even pinker, and you could see the relief in the way his shoulders eased. It was small, but it was enough. 

And somehow that made everything feel even more like him — quiet, sincere, a little overwhelmed, and completely adorable about it. 

Woonhak, unfortunately, chose that exact moment to ruin the softness. 

“Oh my God,” he said, sounding personally offended by how sweet the moment had become. “She said yes and he’s still blushing.” 

“Woonhak,” Leehan muttered, mortified. 

“No, no,” Woonhak said, turning to the others with the most self-satisfied expression on earth. “The evidence folder is now closed, and the crush has been confirmed.” 

Leehan made a pained sound and covered part of his face again. 

You laughed, and this time it felt lighter — because the hard part was over now, and what was left was just the beginning of something new.

The station announcement crackled overhead again. A train was coming. 

Woonhak clapped his hands once. “Okay, we’re done. Mission accomplished.” 

Leehan groaned while the five of them started backing away, still arguing as they went. “Concert tickets were the biggest clue,” Riwoo said. 

“No, the umbrella,” Sungho insisted. 

“The drink,” Jaehyun added. 

“The favorite food,” Taesan said. 

Woonhak, naturally, got the last word. 

The station quieted almost immediately after that. 

Leehan looked at you again, a little embarrassed, a little relieved, and very much like himself. Then, more quietly, he said, “Text me when you get home.” 

You smiled. “I will.” 

He nodded once, then added, almost shyly, “And maybe next time I’ll notice faster.” You let out a small laugh. 

“You say that like it’s a choice.” 

His mouth twitched. That tiny, shy almost-smile returned. And for the first time all evening, he looked like he actually believed things could go well from here. 

You turned toward the station entrance, still smiling to yourself, while Leehan stayed under the lights for a moment longer, pink at the ears and looking like someone who had just been forced to confront his own disaster of a heart. 

Behind you, Woonhak’s voice carried faintly from the platform: “I still can’t believe he remembered her second favorite food.” 

Leehan shouted back, “Kim Woonhak!” 

And you laughed as you made your way into the station.

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

There is a particular kind of torture in sitting three rows behind someone you've accidentally developed a crush on.

Not a real crush. You'd spent six months insisting that to yourself.

It was appreciation. Purely observational. The way you admired neat handwriting or an elegant mathematical proof. Nothing more.

Unfortunately, your brain had developed a habit of collecting details without asking permission first.

His name was Kim Woonhak. He always sat in the third row from the front, slightly left of center, where the afternoon sun reached him before anyone else.

People gravitated toward him almost instinctively.

Teachers stopped him in the hallway just to chat. Seniors greeted him like an old friend. Students from completely different classes somehow knew his name.

He greeted every single one of them with the same smile. Bright. Unforced. Completely genuine.

One afternoon, you'd watched him thank the cafeteria auntie with the exact same sincerity he used when greeting the vice principal. He accepted his tray with both hands, smiled, then walked away carrying two cartons of milk.

Someone always forgot theirs. Woonhak always noticed.

None of that information had ever been useful. Your brain simply...kept it.

You, meanwhile, preferred things that made sense.

Your notes were color-coded. Your planner existed in three different places. You arrived early to every class, finished every exam ahead of schedule, and had long since earned a reputation for being intimidating.

You never corrected anyone. People left you alone. You liked it that way.

Everything remained comfortably organized. Except for one increasingly inconvenient exception.

It had started with his laugh.

You'd been halfway through a macroeconomics chapter when something unexpectedly warm cut through your concentration.

You looked up.

Woonhak leaned back in his chair while one of his friends finished an undeniably terrible joke. His shoulders shook. His eyes disappeared completely beneath the brightest smile you'd ever seen.

You looked back down after three seconds. Then spent the next three weeks thinking about it.

It wasn't poetic. It was oddly specific.

He looked like a snowman.

Not because he looked cold. Because his smile reminded you of the cheerful snowmen from children's storybooks.

Soft. Round. Completely unguarded.

You quietly stored the observation away. Then returned to macroeconomics. Or at least...you tried.

"Hey, Y/N."

You looked up.

Myung Jaehyun stood beside your desk wearing the unmistakable expression of someone about to ask for a favor.

"You're at the top of the class, right?"

"So I've been told."

"Perfect."

He pointed across the classroom.

"Woonhak needs a tutor."

Your pen stopped.

Across the room, Woonhak was enthusiastically reenacting some story for his friends with enough dramatic commitment that two of them were already laughing before he'd even reached the punchline.

"And why," you asked carefully, "are you telling me?"

"Because I don't know anyone else who can explain the material."

"I am not a tutoring service."

"I know."

"I'm also not volunteering."

"I know."

"So why are we still talking?"

Jaehyun smiled.

"Because you're nice."

You stared.

"I think you've confused me with someone else."

"Nope."

"You definitely have."

"You just hide it better." His smile softened.

"He really is trying. I just think he needs someone capable of helping him."

You looked toward Woonhak again.

He happened to glance your way at the same moment before immediately returning to his conversation, completely unaware the discussion involved him.

You sighed.

"I'll think about it."

Normally, those words almost meant no. Apparently Jaehyun heard yes.

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

The next morning, someone pulled the chair in front of your desk around and sat down backward.

"Hi."

You looked up.

Kim Woonhak smiled. Probably a bit too close to your liking.

"I'm Woonhak."

"I know."

"...Great. Saves me from introducing myself."

You blinked.

It suddenly occurred to you that Kim Woonhak might simply be immune to awkwardness.

"I heard you might be able to help me study."

"I said I'd think about it."

"I know."

His smile remained perfectly intact.

"I figured I'd make my case in person."

"And?"

"I'm much more convincing in person."'"I'm much more convincing in person."

Unfortunately... he wasn't wrong.

You'd spent the last six months safely admiring him from three rows away.

Now he was smiling directly at you, and your heartbeat had apparently decided professionalism was optional.

"What subjects?" you asked.

He counted on his fingers.

"Math."

Another finger.

"Chemistry."

Then another.

"...Most of the others."

"That's concerning."

"I know."

He laughed sheepishly.

"But I learn fast. And I promise I'll work hard."

You looked at him properly for the first time.

The grin he'd shown everyone else settled into something quieter.

"I'll owe you."

"You don't owe me anything."

"I could become your academic servant."

"I don't think that's a real occupation."

"It could be."

A tiny laugh escaped before you could stop it. His entire face brightened.

You immediately cleared your throat.

"...Wednesday."

His eyes widened.

"The library."

He sat up so quickly the chair nearly tipped over.

"Really?"

"Yes. Four o'clock."

"I'll be early."

"You'll be on time."

"I'll try."

"You don't sound convincing."

"I thought I was much more convincing in person."

"You've provided very little evidence."

He laughed all the way back to his seat.

The sound lingered in your thoughts long after the classroom had gone quiet.

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

You arrived at the library fifteen minutes early.

Naturally. Everything here made sense. Books belonged on shelves. Silence had rules.

People respected both.

You had already arranged your notes when Woonhak appeared exactly two minutes before four carrying two drinks.

"So... I guessed."

He places the two drinks on the table, setting one in front of you. Brown sugar milk tea.

"I didn't know what you liked."

You looked up.

"So you guessed?"

"You seem like a brown sugar person."

"...What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

He shrugged.

"It just felt right."

"...That's your explanation?"

"It's a classic."

He unpacked notebooks that looked like they'd survived several natural disasters.

A pencil rolled across the table. He caught it without looking.

You picked up the drink before he noticed your expression.

"...We're doing math first."

To your surprise... he wasn't a bad student.

He learned quickly once someone explained why something worked instead of simply telling him the answer. When he concentrated, the energetic class clown disappeared completely.

He leaned over his notebook, quietly talking himself through each step under his breath.

"...Negative first."

A pause.

"...Carry the two..."

His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the page.

Rhythm. Not impatience.

You remembered he'd been writing songs long before you'd ever spoken to him.

Somehow... that made perfect sense.

"You've been staring at that equation for two minutes."

"I know."

"But you're smiling."

"I think I finally understand it."

There it was again.

That smile. Smaller than the ones he wore around everyone else. Somehow infinitely more dangerous.

You lowered your eyes before your face betrayed you.

"You missed a negative sign."

You pointed with your pencil instead of your finger. He leaned closer.

"...You're right."

He groaned dramatically.

"I celebrated too early."

"You celebrated before checking your answer."

"The academy never believes in me."

"The academy would like you to finish the worksheet."

"They have impossible standards."

"They have twenty-three remaining questions."

He sighed with theatrical despair before continuing.

A few minutes later, he slid the paper back toward you. You looked it over.

"Correct."

He threw both hands into the air. “I’d like to thank the academy.”

“The academy accepts.”

His grin widened. The corners of your lips betrayed you, lifting just slightly before you could stop them.

“You smiled.”

Your head lifted instinctively. A huge mistake.

He was already watching you.

"I did not."

"You absolutely did."

"I don't think you have sufficient evidence."

"I watched it happen."

You managed exactly two seconds of eye contact before retreating to the worksheet.

"Eyewitness testimony is unreliable."

His laughter escaped a little louder than intended.

Someone glanced over your direction and he immediately ducked his head.

"...Sorry."

"You apologized."

"My mom would be disappointed if I didn't."

You smiled again before catching yourself. This time, you hid behind your drink.

The afternoon settled into an unexpectedly comfortable rhythm.

He asked thoughtful questions. You answered them. He listened carefully.

Not because he wanted the solution. Because he genuinely wanted to understand.

By closing time, you'd quietly put away the harder worksheets. He wasn't ready for them. Not anymore.

"You know..." He rested his chin in one hand.

"You're not as scary as everyone says."

You suddenly found the margin of your notebook fascinating.

"Sorry... was that weird?"

"No."

It wasn't. That was the problem.

Six months ago, Kim Woonhak had simply been the boy with the snowman smile.

Now... he was becoming a real person.

And somehow, that was so much more dangerous.

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

Wednesday became a regular thing. Then Tuesday joined it.

Eventually, without either of you acknowledging when it happened, studying together simply became part of your routine.

Woonhak never missed a session. If anything, he became suspiciously punctual.

One rainy afternoon, he arrived carrying two umbrellas.

"I checked the forecast."

"You mean one forecast?"

"...Seven."

You looked at him.

"There are seven weather apps?"

"There are at least seven."

"...You have seven weather apps?"

"I have trust issues."

You accepted the spare umbrella anyway.

Questioning Kim Woonhak's logic had become a waste of energy.

He always brought something. A different drink because he wanted to know whether you preferred jasmine tea over oolong. A bag of chips with a sticky note that read: For when math gets evil.

You absolutely did not keep the note tucked inside your economics textbook afterward. That would've been ridiculous.

The study sessions settled into their own rhythm. The first half belonged to academics.

Woonhak no longer panicked whenever he made mistakes. Instead, he leaned into them.

"So why does this formula work?"

"What changes if this disappears?"

"Can I solve it another way?"

He wasn't memorizing anymore. He wanted to understand.

You liked that.

The second half inevitably drifted elsewhere. Chemistry became music. Music became favorite movies.

Favorite movies somehow became an argument over whether cereal counted as soup.

"It has liquid."

"It has cereal."

"So?"

"So it isn't soup."

"You're inventing rules."

"They're important rules."

"I don't think they are."

"They absolutely are."

He laughed so suddenly that he nearly dropped his pen.

You looked down before he noticed yourself smiling. That was becoming a problem.

Conversations had never been dangerous before.

Kim Woonhak used to exist safely three rows ahead of you.

Now he remembered that you disliked sparkling water because you'd mentioned it once. He quietly slid the blue highlighter toward you before you reached for it. He asked how your presentation went before asking whether he'd passed chemistry.

Your observations had become... personal. And somehow, that was infinitely worse.

"I want to hear that song you were working on."

The words escaped before you thought about them. You blinked and instantly regretted what you'd just said.

"...You don't have to play it."

His eyes brightened.

"No, I want to."

He pulled out his phone.

"It's unfinished."

"I won't judge."

"You absolutely will."

"I analyze."

He laughed.

"Right."

The recording lasted barely ninety seconds.

A warm guitar. Then his voice. Lower than you'd expected.

The melody felt gentle. Hopeful.

When it ended, you handed his phone back.

"The second half is stronger."

He frowned thoughtfully.

"It is?"

"You wrote toward the melody instead of with it. The lyrics and melody are trying to tell different stories."

He stared.

"...Yeah." His voice had gone quiet. "That's exactly what's bothering me."

"I'm glad the analysis helped."

"It always does."

You lowered your eyes before he noticed the smile threatening to appear.

The changes afterward were almost impossible to notice. Unless someone had spent months quietly studying him.

He started saving you a seat during homeroom. Never calling your name. Just moving his backpack the moment you arrived. You always sat beside him.

He also started texting. At first, it was just homework questions.

Then...

A blurry sunset.

Woonhak: this doesn't look real

A six-second voice memo.

Woonhak: does this melody sound okay?

A picture of another orange stray cat.

Woonhak: he ignored me too

You answered every message. That was your first mistake.

Looking forward to them became your second.

He also asked more questions that were not related to any of your study sessions.

"What do you listen to?"

"What do you actually do when you're not studying?"

"What made you like economics?"

He listened carefully. Not politely. Genuinely.

Weeks later he'd casually mention something you'd forgotten telling him. As though your answers mattered. As though you mattered.

You buried that thought beneath several layers of logic.

Kim Woonhak treated everyone kindly. This wasn't different. It couldn't be.

The argument became slightly less convincing each time you repeated it.

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

"You like him."

You looked up so quickly you nearly dropped your chopsticks.

"...Excuse me?"

Yunah, your classmate, looked entirely too pleased with herself.

"You heard me."

"I tutor him."

"You also like him."

"I think he's nice."

"You've thought he was nice since October."

"...How do you know that?"

"I literally sit behind you."

Your heart sank.

"...And, you aren't exactly subtle."

"I wasn't looking at him."

"You absolutely were."

"I was observing."

"There it is."

She pointed a fry at you, dramatically. One that she stole from your own tray.

"You've convinced yourself that if you call it observing, it somehow stops being a crush."

"I just notice everyone's habits."

"No. There's a difference."

You sighed.

"You know what drink he buys. You know which hallway he uses. You know he hums while solving math."

"..."

"You accidentally admitted all of those."

"...Coincidences happen."

"They don't just happen for six straight months."

The teasing softened. Yunah rested her chin on one hand.

"You don't have to pretend around me."

"I'm not pretending."

"You kind of are."

You stared down at your lunch.

"...I didn't mean to notice. It just..." You laughed quietly. "...kept happening."

She waited.

"I thought it was just a harmless crush."

"And now?"

Your smile arrived before you could stop it.

"...Now he remembers things. He notices things. And somehow..." You shook your head. "...that's so much worse."

"Worse?"

"I wasn't supposed to get to know him."

The confession escaped before you could stop it.

"I thought if I stayed far enough away..." You laughed softly. "...it would stay simple."

"But it didn't."

A pause.

"...He became a real person."

Yunah smiled.

"I'd hope so."

"You know what I mean."

"I do."

She nudged your tray toward you.

"You should eat. You barely touched your food."

"...Thanks."

She shrugged.

"We're classmates." Then, after a second, "...I'd like to think we're becoming friends."

You blinked.

"...I'd like that too."

Your phone buzzed.

Woonhak: i found another cat

Another message immediately followed.

Woonhak: this one ignored me too

You opened the picture. A tiny orange cat sat with its back to him.

You smiled without thinking.

Yunah noticed. Of course she did.

"I didn't say anything."

You quickly locked your phone.

"...You're insufferable."

"I've been called worse."

She stood, balancing her tray.

"I'll let you keep pretending a little longer."

By the time she'd disappeared into the crowd... you had already saved the picture.

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

The midterm results came back on a Friday. You learned about them before Woonhak did.

Not because you were looking. Because the hallway outside the faculty office suddenly erupted into cheers.

"No way!"

Jaehyun's voice carried all the way to the library.

Then another shout.

"Woonhak!"

Applause followed. Someone actually whistled.

You lowered your eyes back to your notes. You were absolutely not curious. Not even a little.

"...Y/N!"

You sighed.

Of course.

The library doors flew open with considerably more enthusiasm than libraries generally appreciated.

Woonhak hurried inside, slightly out of breath, hair windswept from running across campus, one crumpled result sheet clutched proudly in his hand.

"I found you."

Your heart immediately forgot how to function properly at the sight of him.

"...Congratulations."

He blinked.

"I didn't even tell you yet."

"You came in waving the paper."

"...Right." He laughed sheepishly before dropping into the chair across from you.

"Look." He slid the paper across the table.

Mathematics. 78.

Chemistry. 81.

Every subject had improved.

You looked back up at him, trying your hardest to not show it in your face too much that you were genuinely happy for him.

"You passed."

"I passed."

He pointed excitedly at the page.

"I actually passed."

"I can see that."

"I know, but..." He laughed again, excitement outrunning his vocabulary. "I've never improved this much before."

Without thinking... you smiled. He felt accomplished from that alone.

"You worked hard."

He immediately shook his head.

"We worked hard."

Your smile faltered.

"Woonhak..."

"I'm serious."

His voice softened.

"You complained every week."

"I did." He laughed. "But I kept coming."

"You did."

"Because you kept believing I could do it."

Silence settled between you. You found yourself quietly straightening the edge of his paper.

"I only explained the material."

"You did more than that."

Your fingers stopped.

"You never made me feel stupid."

You looked up.

His smile wasn't bright anymore. It was small. Honest.

"I think..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...that's what helped the most."

Something tightened quietly inside your chest.

"...You still did the work."

"I know, but..."

His smile returned as he carefully folded the paper.

"I wanted you to see it first."

The sentence slipped out naturally. Neither of you reacted immediately.

Then...

"Oh."

His ears slowly turned pink.

"I mean..." He scratched his neck awkwardly.

You rescued him before he could make it worse.

"...Congratulations, Woonhak." You smiled. "I'm proud of you."

Silence.

His eyes widened ever so slightly.

"...Thank you."

You looked down before your own face betrayed you.

"We should keep studying. Finals are next."

"...Yeah." He smiled to himself. "We should."

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

Later that afternoon, Jaehyun found Woonhak alone in their studio. His folded report card rested beside his laptop.

Music drifted softly from the speakers before fading away.

Jaehyun nodded, satisfied.

"...It's better."

Woonhak looked up.

"You think so?"

"I do." He tapped the keyboard. "You fixed the second verse."

"I finally figured it out."

"So..."

Jaehyun folded his arms.

"Did you let Y/N hear it?"

Woonhak blinked.

"...Yeah."

"And?"

"They said the melody deserved better lyrics."

Jaehyun smiled.

"So you rewrote the whole thing."

"...I guess I did."

"You didn't even argue."

"I trusted them."

The words left his mouth before he noticed. Jaehyun only hummed.

"Interesting."

Silence.

"Woonhak."

"Hm?"

"Last week you asked me whether your hoodie looked better zipped or unzipped."

"I remember."

"The next day... you asked Y/N."

"...Did I?"

"You did."

"I was just curious."

"The week before that you asked if your hair looked weird after practice. I told you it looked fine."

"..."

"You still asked Y/N."

Woonhak frowned. "...I don't remember that."

"I know." Jaehyun smiled knowingly. "That's the point."

He continued counting on his fingers.

"You changed milk tea brands because they said the last one was too sweet. You started carrying two umbrellas. You somehow know exactly which highlighter they'll reach for."

"..."

"You ask me for advice first. Then you ask Y/N."

A pause.

"And you always seem happier when Y/N agrees."

Woonhak stared.

"...Really?"

Jaehyun nodded.

"When grades came out today..." He lifted the folded result sheet. "Who did you want to tell first?"

"...Y/N."

The answer came immediately. No hesitation. No thinking.

Jaehyun smiled.

"You ran straight past me."

"I did?"

"You didn't even notice."

Woonhak covered his face.

"...Hyung."

"I thought I'd at least get a hello."

"I got excited."

"I know." Jaehyun's smile softened. "But not excited enough to tell me first."

Silence filled the room.

Jaehyun glanced toward the notebook beside the laptop.

"You know... I've listened to every version of this song."

Woonhak looked at it too.

"The first draft was good too, but this one feels more honest."

"...What changed?"

"I think..." Jaehyun smiled. "You finally figured out who you were writing it for."

The room became very quiet.

"You rewrote the lyrics because Y/N suggested it. You wanted them to hear your grades first. You save them a seat every morning. You text them pictures of every stray cat on campus."

A tiny laugh escaped Woonhak.

"...Not every cat."

"Almost every cat."

Another pause.

"You've talked about Y/N every day this week."

Woonhak blinked.

"...Have I?"

"You told me they smile differently when they're concentrating. You said they push their sleeves up before explaining difficult problems. You somehow know which drink they'll order."

"..."

"You notice everything."

The words settled gently into the silence.

Woonhak thought back.

To every Wednesday afternoon. Every shared drink. Every tiny smile Y/N tried so hard to hide.

The way they'd quietly laugh before pretending they hadn't. The way they analyzed his unfinished song more carefully than anyone else ever had.

He remembered deleting almost an entire verse after that conversation. Writing until sunrise.

Because... he wanted them to hear the finished version.

"...Hyung."

Jaehyun waited.

A slow smile spread across Woonhak's face. Almost disbelieving.

"...I think I really like Y/N."

Jaehyun smiled.

"I know."

"You knew?"

"I suspected."

"...Since when?"

"Since you started asking for my opinion just so you could compare it with theirs."

Woonhak dropped his forehead onto the desk.

"...That's kind of embarrassing."

"It is."

"I seriously didn't know."

"I believe you."

Another laugh escaped him. Quieter this time.

He realized something. He hadn't fallen in love that afternoon.

Not when Y/N agreed to tutor him. Not when they listened to his unfinished song. Not even when they told him they were proud of him.

He'd simply been collecting moments.

One smile. One conversation. One shared drink. One saved seat. One tiny observation after another.

Without realizing they had already become the favorite parts of his day.

Now that he finally understood what they meant... everything made perfect sense.

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

The next study session came. Then the next. Then another.

Somehow, the weeks continued as though nothing had changed.

The library remained quiet in the afternoons. The same table by the windows was almost always empty by the time the two of you arrived. Woonhak still showed up carrying two drinks, and you still pretended not to notice that he no longer had to ask which one you liked. You still arranged your notes into neat little stacks while he unpacked his bag with the same cheerful lack of organization that made you quietly straighten his papers whenever he wasn't looking.

Everything looked exactly the same.

Only now, every familiar habit seemed to carry a meaning neither of you quite knew how to acknowledge.

The first study session after midterms passed surprisingly smoothly. Almost suspiciously so.

The two of you settled into your usual routine, speaking mostly about reaction rates and probability questions, both pretending that nothing had shifted.

It was almost convincing.

Almost.

Halfway through the session, Woonhak leaned over to compare his answer with yours.

His shoulder brushed yours. Barely.

The two of you froze at the sudden contact.

"...Sorry."

The apology left your mouths at exactly the same time.

You looked at each other for a brief second before he laughed first.

You followed a heartbeat later, quieter than him, immediately lowering your gaze as warmth climbed into your face.

Neither of you mentioned it again.

The second study session was worse. Or perhaps "worse" wasn't the right word.

More dangerous.

Woonhak slid into the chair across from you, setting your usual drink beside your notebook before pulling his own bag onto the table.

"...Sorry I'm late."

You glanced at the clock.

"You're thirty-seven seconds late."

He blinked.

"...You counted?"

"No."

A beat passed.

"...Probably."

A grin spread across his face as he laughed, shaking his head while pulling out his notebook. You uncapped your highlighter and reached for the chemistry textbook.

"...Did you change your perfume?"

Silence.

The question slipped out with the same absentminded ease as asking whether he'd finished the homework.

Woonhak looked up at you. He wanted to make sure he wasn't hearing things.

"...What?"

You blinked.

"...Your perfume."

The words left your mouth before your brain had the chance to intervene.

Then, with impeccable timing... your brain caught up.

...

Oh.

Heat rushed into your face so quickly it almost hurt.

Why would you say that?

There had been perfectly reasonable explanations.

People bought new perfume. People changed shampoo. People smelled different after laundry day.

None of those explanations justified the fact that you'd apparently noticed the difference the moment he'd sat down.

You cleared your throat.

"...It smells different."

That somehow sounded even worse.

Across the table, Woonhak continued staring at you.

"...You noticed?"

"...It's different."

"...I only started wearing it yesterday."

"...Oh."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost shy.

"...I actually asked Jaehyun which one I should get."

Another pause.

"...He said this one."

Your fingers tightened around your pen.

"...It suits you."

Silence.

You heard yourself say it. You heard the silence that followed.

Then your own words replayed themselves, one horrifying sentence at a time.

You noticed he'd changed his perfume. You admitted you noticed. Then you told him it suited him.

Somewhere, the version of yourself that had successfully maintained a carefully curated reputation for being composed and emotionally detached quietly packed its things and left.

Across the table, Woonhak had stopped moving entirely.

The tips of his ears slowly turned pink. Then his cheeks.

He looked at you as though you'd just confessed to something neither of you was supposed to know yet.

"...You noticed?"

His voice came out much softer this time. Almost careful.

Eye contact was no longer an available option.

"...A-anyway..."

Your voice betrayed you on the very first syllable. Wonderful.

"...Let's start with chemistry first."

You hurriedly flipped open the textbook before he could say another word, suddenly deciding reaction mechanisms deserved your undivided attention.

Across the table, Woonhak didn't answer immediately. You could feel him looking at you.

Then... a quiet, helpless laugh escaped him.

"...Okay."

There was a smile in his voice. One you refused to look at.

Not because you didn't want to. Because you were almost certain that if you did... you wouldn't survive it.

By the third study session, pretending became exhausting.

The conversations still came easily. You still quizzed him on chemistry formulas. He still groaned dramatically every time mathematics introduced another unfamiliar symbol. You still corrected him with quiet patience. He still found ways to make you laugh when you least expected it.

Nothing was different, you thought.

Everything was different.

Even the librarian seemed to notice. She glanced toward your table once, eyebrows lifting ever so slightly before returning to her cart of books.

Usually, the two of you filled every lull with conversation. Today, silence visited more often.

Not awkward. Just... full.

Like there were words resting quietly between the two of you, patiently waiting for someone to gather enough courage to speak them.

Neither of you did. Not yet. Instead, they surfaced in smaller ways.

Your fingers brushed when you both reached for the calculator. You instinctively pulled your hand back.

Woonhak cleared his throat.

"...Sorry."

"It was my fault."

"It wasn't."

"It was."

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You always apologize first."

"...Do I?"

"You do."

You lowered your eyes to your notebook.

"I didn't realize."

"I know."

His voice softened.

"I've been noticing a lot of things lately."

Your heart stumbled. You kept your eyes fixed stubbornly on the page.

"...Like what?"

"Hm?"

"You said you've been noticing things."

"...Right."

He scratched the back of his neck.

You waited.

He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

"...Nothing."

You nodded once.

"...Okay."

It wasn't okay. You both knew it wasn't.

The unfinished answer lingered quietly between the pages of your notebooks for the rest of the afternoon.

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

The following Wednesday arrived with rain tapping gently against the library windows.

Most students had gone home early. The library felt unusually empty.

You were already seated when Woonhak arrived. He folded his umbrella beside the door before walking over.

"I brought two."

He smiled sheepishly, lifting another umbrella from his bag.

"...Just in case."

You stared at him.

"You remembered the forecast."

"I checked."

"...Seven weather apps?"

His eyes widened.

"...How did you know that?"

You looked down almost immediately.

"...Lucky guess."

He laughed.

"You've been spending too much time with me."

The words settled warmly somewhere beneath your ribs.

"...Probably."

The answer escaped before you could stop it.

His smile faltered. Not because he'd disliked hearing it. Quite the opposite. Neither of you said anything after that.

The study session continued quietly. The questions became easier. Or perhaps neither of you was paying enough attention for them to feel difficult.

More than once, your hands reached for the same pen. More than once, one of you began speaking just as the other did. More than once, your eyes met just long enough for one of you to look away first.

The air felt impossibly light and impossibly heavy at the same time. As though every unfinished sentence had decided to remain in the room with you.

Outside, the rain continued steadily. Inside, the clock ticked toward closing time.

You circled the final answer.

"...Correct."

"We're done."

"We're done."

Neither of you moved.

You stacked your notes. He zipped his pencil case.

The table slowly emptied. Still... neither of you stood.

The silence no longer felt uncertain. It felt inevitable.

Eventually, you looked up. Woonhak was already looking at you.

For the first time since you'd met him... he looked nervous. Not the kind of nervousness before a test. Not the kind before performing. The kind that belonged to someone standing at the edge of something they couldn't take back.

"...Y/N."

Your name was quieter than usual.

"Hm?"

He looked down at his hands. His fingers tightened around the strap of his backpack before slowly relaxing again.

A small laugh escaped him.

"...Can I tell you something?"

Your heartbeat became suddenly, inconveniently noticeable. You didn't know what was coming, but seeing him get nervous like this was doing things to your own nervous system.

"...You're always telling me things."

The words came out automatically. The moment they left your mouth, you wanted them back. Because this wasn't one of those moments.

Apparently, he knew that too.

He smiled. Not brightly. Just enough to reassure you.

"...Yeah. I guess I am."

He drew in a slow breath.

"I've been trying really hard to study."

You frowned slightly.

"I know."

"No, I mean..." He laughed quietly at himself. "I really have. I keep telling myself I'm going to focus."

"You do."

"I try."

His smile turned helpless.

"But every time I look up..." His eyes finally found yours. "...I end up paying attention to you instead."

The room fell completely still.

"I thought maybe it'd go away after midterms. It didn't."

A quiet laugh.

"I thought maybe I was just happy because we'd been spending so much time together."

Another pause.

"But then..." His smile returned, softer this time. "You noticed I'd changed my perfume."

Your breath caught.

"I don't know why..." He laughed under his breath. "...but that made me ridiculously happy."

His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of his notebook.

"And after that, I started noticing everything too. The way you tap your highlighter before you uncap it. The way you push your sleeves up whenever you're about to explain something difficult. The tiny smile you make when I get an answer right before you remember you're supposed to be serious."

He shook his head gently, smiling to himself.

"I realized I look forward to that smile more than getting the answer right."

His gaze lifted to yours once more. Open. Honest. Terrifyingly sincere.

"I think..." A small, nervous laugh escaped him. "...No, I know."

He smiled.

"I like you."

Simple. Certain.

"I don't mean as my tutor. Or just my classmate."

His smile softened.

"I like talking to you. I like hearing what you think. I like showing you things."

His eyes continue to hold yours.

"I think my days became my favorite when you started being part of them."

He exhaled slowly.

"I just... I didn't want finals to come and pretend none of this ever happened."

The room was very quiet.

Outside, rain continued to patter softly against the library windows, the sound settling into the silence neither of you seemed willing to disturb.

Your heartbeat was loud enough to drown out everything else.

You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. You closed it again.

Your brain, so dependable in every other situation, had apparently chosen this exact moment to resign.

You could explain integration by parts to thirty students without looking at your notes. You had survived oral examinations. You had argued with teachers.

You had once corrected an entire textbook in the margins because the publisher had made a mistake.

And yet... one honest confession from Kim Woonhak had reduced your vocabulary to absolutely nothing.

He waited. He didn't rush you. He simply sat there, looking at you with the same patient warmth that had somehow become familiar over the past few months.

Like he genuinely believed that whatever answer you gave would be worth waiting for. That somehow made it harder.

"...I've..."

You stopped for a moment. Then you let out a quiet breath, dropping your gaze to the table between you.

"...I've been thinking about your smile since October."

Silence.

"...What?"

You immediately wished you could take the sentence back.

Not because it wasn't true. Because it was. Painfully true.

"You have this smile..." You gestured vaguely toward him, immediately regretting that decision too. "...where your eyes disappear."

"...Disappear?"

"They just..." You sighed quietly. "...They vanish whenever you laugh."

He stared.

"I noticed it during macroeconomics. You were laughing with Taesan."

You still couldn't look directly at him. Your fingers tightened around one another beneath the table.

"I was supposed to be reading."

Your shoulders lifted in an embarrassed little shrug.

"...I wasn't."

A helpless laugh slipped from your lips.

"I looked up. And then..." You paused. Then you smiled to yourself. "...I kept looking up."

Silence settled gently between you.

"I spent months telling myself I was only observing."

You laughed again, quieter this time.

"It sounded much smarter than admitting I had a crush on you."

His grin appeared almost immediately.

"It didn't work."

"...No." You shook your head. "Not even a little."

You finally looked at him properly.

"I noticed everything. The way teachers always stop to talk to you. The way you thank the cafeteria staff. The way you always wave to the security guard at the east gate before class."

Woonhak frowned.

"...I do?"

"You do."

His laugh escaped before he could stop it. Bright. Warm. Entirely familiar.

It made your own smile appear before you even realized it had.

You looked back at him. This time, you didn't look away.

"I think..." You smiled. "No, I know."

Now it was your turn to tell him what you felt.

"I like you too."

His smile lingered, softer now. It still made your heart forget how to behave.

Slowly, almost absentmindedly, his thumb gently brushed against your knuckles. The touch was featherlight.

You didn't even notice that he had already placed his hands on top of yours.

"...Can I kiss you?"

The question settled gently between the two of you.

Not rushed. Not uncertain. Simply offered. Every coherent thought disappeared.

You knew the answer. You had known it for much longer than you had ever been willing to admit.

Unfortunately, knowing the answer and being capable of saying it turned out to be two completely different things.

"I..."

Your brain had apparently resigned for the second time that evening.

Heat climbed steadily into your face as you searched for words that stubbornly refused to exist.

Across the table, Woonhak simply watched you. He wasn't impatient. He wasn't expecting an immediate answer.

If anything, the small smile on his face became gentler.

"...It's okay."

His voice was so calm it almost made your chest ache.

You finally looked up.

He hadn't moved any closer. Instead, his fingers had loosened ever so slightly around yours, the tiny movement carrying a reassurance words couldn't quite capture.

You could still pull away. You could still say no. Nothing would happen unless you wanted it to.

"We don't have to."

Another quiet smile.

"I just wanted you to know..." A tiny laugh escaped him. "...that I'd really like to."

Something inside you gave way.

Even now, after confessing everything, he was still making sure the decision belonged entirely to you.

Never in a million years had you imagined this. Not while secretly watching him laugh from three rows away. Not during every Wednesday afternoon spent pretending your heart wasn't becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Not through shared milk teas, unfinished songs, stray cat pictures, or chemistry worksheets covered in his dramatic complaints.

You had imagined getting over Kim Woonhak. You had also imagined quietly carrying your feelings until graduation.

You had never imagined this. Never imagined that the same boy whose smile had interrupted a macroeconomics chapter months ago would one day confess first. Ask if he could kiss you. Or become the first person to hold your hand like it already belonged there.

The realization washed over you all at once.

This wasn't another observation. This wasn't another daydream. This was very real.

"No... I..."

The word escaped before your thoughts could catch it.

Woonhak blinked. You immediately shook your head.

"I'm trying."

"I know."

He smiled.

There wasn't the slightest trace of disappointment in his voice. Only patience.

"Take your time."

That was somehow the final straw. Because he wasn't trying to rescue you from the silence. He was simply sharing it with you.

Slowly, almost shyly...

Your hand shifted beneath his.

The movement was so tentative that you barely realized what you were doing until your fingers found his properly for the first time.

Not by accident. Not because the two of you had reached for the same calculator. Not because your shoulders had brushed over shared notes.

Deliberately. Warm against warm. Your fingers settled naturally between his.

Comfortable. Like they'd somehow skipped the awkward part and already knew where they belonged.

You couldn't help smiling. Small. Embarrassed. Almost disbelieving.

Then, gathering every ounce of courage you still possessed, you looked back at him.

And nodded.

Just once.

It was barely noticeable. It didn't need to be.

Woonhak searched your face carefully, as though he wanted to be absolutely certain he hadn't imagined it.

"...Is that..." His voice had dropped to little more than a whisper. "...your answer?"

Speaking still felt impossibly difficult. So you nodded again. A little more confidently this time.

For a heartbeat, he simply stared at you.

Then the quietest smile you'd ever seen spread across his face. Not triumphant. Not relieved.

Wondering. As though part of him still couldn't quite believe that this was really happening.

"...Okay."

He breathed the word more than he spoke it.

Only then did his fingers gently curl around yours. Not tightly. Never possessively. Just enough to hold your hand properly.

His thumb traced one slow stroke across the back of your hand before his free hand lifted toward your face.

He paused. He waited one last time.

His fingertips brushed a loose strand of hair away from your cheek, tucking it carefully behind your ear.

You answered without words.

Almost unconsciously, you leaned into the warmth of his hand.

His breath caught. The smile that followed was impossibly small.

Then, with all the care he'd shown you from the very beginning... he closed the remaining distance.

The kiss was so gentle that, for the briefest moment, it almost felt like another question.

You answered the only way you knew how. By kissing him back.

Tentatively at first. Then a little more surely. Just like the nod you'd given him moments earlier.

The world outside seemed to disappear.

There was only the quiet rhythm of rain against the library windows, the faint scent of paper and coffee, and the warmth of his hand still resting carefully in yours.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, neither of you spoke.

You simply looked at one another. Trying, and failing, to pretend your hearts weren't racing quite as loudly as they were.

Then.... there it was again.

His eyes disappeared first. Then the corners of his mouth lifted until his entire face seemed to smile all at once.

The very same smile that had interrupted a macroeconomics chapter six months ago. The one that had quietly followed you through every Wednesday afternoon, every shared milk tea, every unfinished song.

His snowman smile.

Without thinking, you smiled back. Really smiled.

Not the polite little curve of your lips you offered classmates. Not the restrained smile that disappeared almost as quickly as it arrived.

This one stayed.

Woonhak's expression brightened even more. He looked at you with such uncomplicated fondness that you felt your face grow warm all over again.

Outside, the rain had almost stopped. The library lights flickered softly, reminding the few remaining students that it was nearly closing time.

Neither of you moved.

For just a little while longer, the world was no bigger than a quiet table by the window, two forgotten milk teas, and two hands that no longer had any reason to let go.

There is a particular kind of miracle in realizing that the person you've quietly loved from afar has been quietly finding their way toward you, too.

If anyone asked you to define your relationship with Myung Jaehyun, the simplest answer would be: friend.

A very close friend, sure. 

A friend who knew how you liked your coffee, what kind of snacks made you feel better after a bad day, and which songs you always skipped because they made you emotional for no reason. A friend who had somehow acquired the deeply irritating habit of showing up with the exact thing you needed before you even had the chance to ask for it. 

A friend who texted you good morning and good night without fail. A friend who held your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, like there had never been any universe in which he had to think twice about it. 

A friend who would walk you through crowded streets with a hand at your waist if the sidewalk got too full. A friend who had once appeared at your front door at two in the morning with a bag of snacks, a drink, and the kind of worried expression that made you feel guilty for not having told him you were having a bad day. 

It had been an accident, really. 

A very unfortunate, very human accident that had started with a terrible day at work, a failed attempt at staying composed, and a long, ugly cry into your pillow the second you got home. You had planned to sleep it off and pretend the world had not personally offended you. 

Instead, twenty minutes later, Myung Jaehyun was outside your door in a hoodie and sweatpants, holding convenience store ramyeon and your favorite chips like he had been called in for emergency rescue. 

“You sounded weird in your last text,” he had said, as if that explained everything. 

You had stared at him. “I did not.” 

“Yes, you did.” 

“I just said goodnight.” 

“And that’s how I knew.” 

You had wanted to argue, but then he had reached out and patted your head with that stupidly soft expression of his, and suddenly the whole fight had leaked out of your body like air from a popped balloon. 

The worst part was that this wasn’t even unusual. This was just… Jaehyun. 

He was like this with everybody, wasn’t he? 

At least, that was what you told yourself. 

He was warm. Naturally affectionate. Absurdly sweet. The kind of person who seemed physically incapable of letting the people around him feel unloved for more than ten seconds at a time. 

So when he said, “I love you,” over the phone, it did not mean he was secretly confessing to you. It meant he was Jaehyun. When he wrapped his fingers around yours, it did not mean anything either. It just meant he was being Jaehyun. You had repeated this to yourself so many times over the years that it had become a reflex.

Friend. Close friend. Best friend, maybe. Definitely not anything else. 

Which was why, when Sungho asked the question, you nearly choked on your iced coffee. It happened on an otherwise normal afternoon. That was the problem with life, really. It liked to wait until you were most relaxed before it ruined your peace. 

Sungho had texted you earlier that day asking if you were free, and since the two of you were both terrible at saying no to each other, you ended up meeting at a small café tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. The place had soft lighting, a suspiciously calm atmosphere, and a pastry case that made you regret not eating lunch. 

Sungho was already there when you arrived, sitting in a corner booth with two drinks and the kind of expression that immediately made you distrust him. 

“You look like you’re about to say something annoying,” you said as you slid into the seat across from him. He blinked innocently.

“That’s rude.” 

“You are rude.” 

“That’s also rude.” 

You squinted at him. “Why did you ask me here?” 

Sungho leaned back and folded his arms. “Can I not invite my friend out for coffee?” 

“No.” 

“Wow.” 

You reached for your cup. “So?” 

He watched you for a second, like he was mentally choosing between several levels of disaster. 

Then he said, “I need to invite you to my brother’s wedding.” 

You paused. “Your brother is getting married?” 

“Yes.” 

“Since when?” 

“Since a while ago.” 

“You just said it like it was a secret.” 

“It wasn’t a secret. You just don’t listen.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Sungho.” 

He sighed, clearly realizing he was losing the opening round of whatever this was.

“Fine. I also wanted to ask you something.”

That was worse. 

You stared at him over the rim of your cup. “If this is about lending you money again, I don’t have any.”

“It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” 

Sungho took a slow sip of his drink, buying time in the most suspicious way possible. Then he looked at you very directly and asked, 

“Are you and Jaehyun dating?” 

The silence that followed was so sudden, so complete, that it almost had physical weight. 

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then you laughed so hard you nearly dropped your coffee. 

“What?”

Sungho didn’t laugh with you. Which, alarmingly, meant he was serious. 

You coughed, trying to recover. “No. No, we’re not dating.” 

He tilted his head.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

He gave you the kind of look people usually reserved for toddlers insisting they had not eaten the cookie crumbs all over their face. 

You set your cup down carefully. “Why would you even ask that?” 

Sungho’s expression turned deeply unimpressed. “Are you serious? Have you seen how you two act?”

“We act normal.” 

“That is a lie.” 

“It is not.” 

“It absolutely is.” 

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but he was already going on, counting things off on his fingers.

“He holds your hand like he’s been doing it since birth.” 

“He’s just like that.” 

“He says ‘I love you’ to you all the time.” 

“So? He does that to everyone.” 

“He shows up at your place whenever you need him.” 

“He’s a good friend.” 

“He gets worried if you don’t answer his texts fast enough.” 

“He worries about everybody.” 

“He looked for you at two in the morning because he had a nightmare you weren’t okay.” 

That one hit a little harder. You looked away on instinct. 

Sungho kept going, ruthless now that he’d gotten your attention.

“And when he found out you’d had a bad day without telling him, he showed up with snacks like he was your husband.” 

You frowned. “That is a dramatic way to phrase that.” 

“It is an accurate way to phrase that.” 

You crossed your arms. “You’re reading too much into it.” 

“I’m telling you, from the outside, it looks extremely weird.” 

“We’re just close.” 

Sungho’s gaze sharpened. “Are you?” 

The question was simple. Too simple. 

And yet for some reason, it landed with the force of a punch to the chest. You frowned.

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means,” he said carefully, “you don’t even seem interested in dating anyone else.” 

You hesitated. Sungho saw it immediately. Of course he did. He was annoyingly observant whenever he wanted to be. He leaned forward slightly.

“When was the last time you actually tried to look for a relationship?” 

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. That, unfortunately, seemed to be answer enough. 

Sungho pointed at you. “Exactly.” 

You glared. “That does not mean anything.” 

“It means something.” 

“It means I’ve been busy.” 

“With what?” 

You paused. 

Sungho watched you for a moment, then said, much more quietly, “You know why you’re not looking for anyone, right?”

You frowned. “Because I haven’t felt like it?” 

He shook his head. “No. Because Jaehyun is already right there.” 

You stared at him. Sungho didn’t even flinch.

“I’m serious. He texts you first. He checks on you. He shows up when you need him. He holds your hand, walks you home, remembers what makes you feel better, says ‘I love you’ like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and basically does every single thing someone would want from a romantic relationship.” 

You opened your mouth. He kept going before you could interrupt him.

“So why would you go looking for anyone else?” 

That made you go still. 

Sungho tipped his head slightly, his voice calm but maddeningly certain.

“You’re not looking because you already have the emotional part of a relationship with him. The comfort. The attention. The softness. The consistency. So of course everyone else feels unnecessary.” 

You let out a disbelieving laugh, but it came out thin. “That’s not—” 

“Isn’t it?” he asked. 

And that was the problem. Because he was saying it like it was obvious. Like he had just pointed out the sky was blue. Like maybe the reason you had never gone searching for anything else was not because you were uninterested in love— but because Jaehyun had been standing right there, quietly giving you all the things you would normally have wanted from someone else. 

And then, just when you thought Sungho had successfully said the most life-altering thing he could possibly say before lunch, he took a sip of his drink like he hadn’t just rearranged your entire understanding of friendship, romance, and emotional availability. 

You stared at him. He stared back. 

Then, very casually, as if he were changing the subject instead of changing the trajectory of your life, he said,

“Anyway, I have a friend I think you’d get along with.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Sungho’s expression stayed completely normal, which somehow made the situation worse.

“His name is Taesan.”

You just looked at him. He kept going, apparently determined to move directly from existential crisis into matchmaking with no transition whatsoever.

“He’s nice. Funny. Not obnoxious. And I think you’d be a good match.”

You let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You think?” 

“Yes,” he said easily. “I do.” 

You folded your arms. “You’re saying this right after you spent ten minutes telling me I’m basically emotionally in a relationship with Jaehyun.” 

“I know.” 

“That is not a normal sentence.” 

“I never said I was being normal.” 

You made a face at him, but Sungho just reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and turned the screen toward you. On it was a contact that said Han Taesan. 

Your eyes flicked up immediately. “You already have his number?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“That’s unsettling.” 

“That’s called being prepared.” 

“You are insane.” 

Sungho ignored that completely and slid his phone across the table toward you. “Here.” 

You didn’t pick it up right away. “What is this?” 

“His number.” 

“I know that.” 

“I thought you might need clarification.” 

You glared at him. “You are one step away from being reported.” 

He smiled like he considered that fair. “I told him I knew someone he might want to meet.” 

Your stomach did a very strange, very immediate little flip. You frowned.

“You already told him?”

“Not details,” Sungho said. “Just enough.” 

“Enough for what?” 

“For him to know you’re real,” he said, completely serious. “And nice. And probably better than what I’m making this sound like.” 

You squinted. “That makes no sense.” 

“It does to me.” 

“Sungho.” 

He raised both hands in surrender, though his grin said he was enjoying this far too much.

“Relax. I’m not forcing anything. I just thought you should talk first, see if there’s any interest, and then I can tell Taesan more properly if you want.” 

You looked down at the phone again. Then back up at him.

“So you’re just handing me a man’s number after emotionally ruining me over another man.”

Sungho considered this. “When you say it like that, it sounds bad.” 

You let out a long, suffering sigh and reached for the phone. Sungho looked far too pleased with himself. You snatched it up before he could say anything else.

“You are actually unbelievable.” 

“I know,” he said. “So. Text him.” 

“Now?” 

“No, in six business days,” he said dryly. “Yes, now.” 

You stared at the number on the screen for another second, trying very hard not to think about how your entire afternoon had gone from Jaehyun, friendship, confusion to Taesan, possibility, confusion of an entirely different kind. 

Sungho leaned back in his seat, watching you with a look that was far too satisfied for someone who had just casually introduced a new person into your emotional ecosystem. 

“I’m just saying,” he added, “if you and Taesan click, that might be a much healthier direction.” 

You frowned. “You say that like you haven’t already ruined my current one.” 

“That’s exactly why I’m offering you a better one.” 

You looked at the number on Sungho’s phone for another second, then exhaled and handed it back without typing anything in yet. 

“I’ll think about it first,” you said. 

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

Maybe that was the end of it. Or at least, that was what you told yourself as you left the café with Taesan’s number sitting untouched on your phone and Sungho’s words sitting far more dangerously in your head. 

Because for the next few days, you could not stop thinking about them. Not about the number. Not really. 

You had spent the entire week thinking about Sungho’s words. Thinking about Jaehyun. Thinking about whether the way he touched your hand meant something. Whether the way he looked at you meant something. Whether the way he texted you first, checked on you, showed up, remembered things, worried about you, hovered around you, and loved you in the most casual, devastatingly consistent way possible meant something. 

And once Sungho had put a name to it, once he had made you wonder whether all of that had always meant something more, every interaction you had with Jaehyun suddenly became unbearable to replay in your mind. 

Too soft. Too natural. Too intimate. Too familiar. 

You overanalyzed every single call, every message, every “good morning,” every “I love you,” every second of silence that followed it. 

By the time Jaehyun finally texted you a few days later asking if you were free, you were already in trouble.

jaehyun: hey, are you free later? i can come over if you want :) 

You stared at the message for a long time. Then you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Then back at the message. Then at your reflection again, because apparently your brain had decided this was now a situation requiring active supervision.

You thought about Jaehyun, and eventually started spiraling of the idea that Sungho planted in your brain. That just kept going until you're finally faced with the reality that Jaehyun is still unaware of your one-sided crisis over the status of your friendship with him.

And now that he was actually coming over, the idea of seeing him in person felt somehow more dangerous than any of it. Because in a text, you could pretend to be normal. In person, you had to survive eye contact. 

So naturally, you spent the next forty minutes spiraling over whether your shirt made you look too eager, whether your hair was doing something suspicious, and whether the very concept of lip gloss had suddenly become a trap. 

You had never worn lip gloss for Jaehyun before. Which, unfortunately, meant that the second you did, your own brain immediately betrayed you. 

Why are you wearing lip gloss? Because you have lips? 

You leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting yourself with the level of scrutiny usually reserved for a crime scene, then frowned, washed your face, put the lip gloss back on, took it off again, and then put it back on one final time like that somehow made it less obvious. 

Then your phone buzzed again. 

jaehyun: i’m outside :) 

You nearly dropped it. 

Of course he was already outside. Jaehyun never believed in giving people enough time to prepare for his arrival, which was either very thoughtful or very cruel depending on the day. 

You inhaled sharply, grabbed your bag for no reason whatsoever, checked your appearance one more time, and opened the door before you could convince yourself to fake your own disappearance. 

Jaehyun was standing in the hallway with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a convenience store bag like he had not just casually destroyed your ability to form coherent thoughts. He looked up the moment the door opened, and his face brightened immediately. 

“There you are.”

And then, before you could answer, before you could even fully register that he was here, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you in a hug so automatic it almost didn’t register as a decision. 

You froze for half a second. Then, because your body apparently still knew what to do around him even when your brain was actively malfunctioning, you hugged him back. 

His arms settled around you with the same easy familiarity as always, warm and secure and completely unfair. He gave you a small squeeze, and when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his expression had softened in that familiar way that always made your chest feel slightly too full. 

“I missed you,” he said. 

You blinked. It had only been a week. Not even a particularly dramatic week, either. Just one regular stretch of days that had somehow managed to become much more emotionally inconvenient than you would have liked. 

And yet Jaehyun said it like he had been deprived of sunlight. Like this was the most natural thing in the world. You stared at him for a second too long, and he immediately grinned, like he knew exactly what he had just done to your nervous system. 

Then his gaze flicked over you quickly, casually, and somehow that was worse than if he had stared.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. The question alone was enough to nearly short-circuit your entire body. 

“Yeah. Why?” 

“You just.... seem kind of weird.” 

You blinked.

“Weird how?” 

“Not bad weird,” he said quickly, like he didn’t want you to take offense. “Just… weird.”

“That’s incredibly unhelpful.” 

He laughed, and the sound hit you directly in the chest because apparently even that was now a problem. 

“Sorry,” he said, stepping past you into the apartment like he belonged there, because in some deeply unfortunate way, he kind of did. “I brought snacks.” 

Of course he did. Of course he had a bag. Of course he had shown up prepared to solve your mood with carbohydrates and the sheer force of his existence. 

You looked down at the bag. “What did you get?” 

He immediately began listing things like he had not noticed your soul trying to leave your body. “Those chips you like, the yogurt drink you said you wanted to try, and—oh, I also got this because I thought it looked good.” He then held up a small pack of pastries. 

You stared. “You bought those because they looked good?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You bought snacks because they looked good and not because you knew I’d like them?” 

He blinked at you. “Both?” 

That should not have been as devastating as it was. You looked away too quickly, which was a mistake, because Jaehyun had already toe-kicked off his shoes and was now looking around with the same easy comfort he always had, like this place was half his too. 

He set the bag down on the table, then reached out and touched your shoulder lightly. 

“How was your week?” he asked. 

You froze. It was such a normal question. A completely normal, harmless, friend-shaped question. Which somehow made it worse. You had spent the last several days imagining every possibility except being asked something so simple that you didn’t know how to survive it. 

“Fine,” you said. 

Jaehyun made a face. “That was suspicious.” 

“It was not.” 

“It was.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Do you always walk in and accuse me of lying?” 

“Only when you look like you’re lying.” 

“I’m not lying.” 

He stepped backward and pointed at you. “You’re definitely lying.” 

You wanted to argue, but then he smiled at you with that familiar, soft sort of fondness that had once never felt like a weapon and now somehow absolutely did. 

“Come here,” he said. 

You stared at him. He stared back, expectant. And because you had apparently lost all authority over your own body, you moved before your brain could object. 

Jaehyun immediately reached for you and pulled you into another hug, this one even more automatic than the first, like he had decided that one hug was not nearly enough to account for a week of separation. 

A perfectly normal hug. A friendly hug. A hug that lasted an entirely unreasonable amount of time. His arms settled around you with practiced ease, one hand resting lightly between your shoulder blades while the other gave you a small, absent-minded squeeze like he was checking to make sure you were actually there. 

You, meanwhile, were experiencing a catastrophic internal event. Because of course he smelled the same. Of course he was warm. Of course the hug was effortless enough that your body remembered how to fit into it before your mind had the chance to panic about it.

“Did you miss me?” he asked into your hair. 

You nearly combusted on the spot. The answer was, tragically, yes. 

Not in the way Sungho had tried to suggest, not in the way your brain had briefly betrayed you into wondering, but in the plain, ordinary, deeply inconvenient way that his absence had made your week feel off-balance. 

You swallowed. 

“Obviously,” you said, trying for casual and landing somewhere near tense. 

He hummed like he found that funny, and then he finally pulled away just enough to look at your face. 

There it was again. That soft, open expression he always wore around you. The one that made people assume things. The one that made you assume things. The one that, apparently, meant absolutely nothing except that Jaehyun was Jaehyun. 

Still, you had a sudden and very upsetting awareness of your own heartbeat. 

His eyes dropped briefly to your mouth. You almost died. 

Then he said, “Did you put on lip gloss?” 

You froze so violently it probably should have counted as a medical condition.

“What?” 

His brows lifted, amused. “You did.” 

“I did not.” 

“You did.” 

“I—” 

He leaned in a little, just enough to make the situation spiritually illegal, and then smiled like he was enjoying your suffering far too much. 

“It looks nice,” he said. 

You made a noise that was not human. Jaehyun laughed immediately.

“Why are you acting like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I just insulted your family.” 

“You did not insult my family.” 

“Then why are you blinking like that?” 

You covered your face with one hand. “Go sit down.” 

He grinned, clearly delighted with himself, and finally obeyed. But now you were even more aware of your existence than before, which was a deeply unfair escalation for a regular afternoon. 

You followed him into the living room and sat across from him at an exact, carefully measured distance that was absolutely not suspicious. 

Jaehyun opened the bag of snacks and started distributing items like he was settling in for a perfectly normal hangout. He handed you the chips first. Then the drink. Then the pastry. Then, after a pause, another pastry. 

You stared at it. “Why are you giving me two?” 

“Because you’ll say you don’t want it and then eat mine later.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “You make me sound predictable.” 

“You are predictable.” 

“I am not.” 

“You are.”

“You’re being mean.” 

He looked offended. “I’m being normal.” 

That made you look at him too quickly. He just blinked back, entirely unbothered. Of course he was unbothered. He always was. 

He sat beside you with one leg folded under him, leaning back against the couch with the kind of laziness that only existed because he felt comfortable around you. 

That was the problem, really. He looked exactly the same as he always did. Sounded exactly the same. Acted exactly the same. 

And yet now every single thing felt loaded because Sungho had shoved a magnifying glass over your entire relationship and walked away smiling. 

Jaehyun noticed your silence and glanced over.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Liar.” 

You turned to glare at him, but he was already looking at you with concern again, and that was somehow worse than if he had been teasing. 

“What?” you asked. 

“You’ve been weird all week.” 

“I have not.” 

“You have.” 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“You have,” he repeated, and now he sounded genuinely curious. “Did something happen?” 

That made you go still. Because something had happened. Just not something you could explain in a normal way. So instead, you said, “No.” 

Jaehyun frowned. “That was also suspicious.” 

You groaned and leaned back against the couch. “Why are you like this?” 

“Like what?” 

“Always noticing when something is wrong.” 

He looked at you for a second, then gave a small shrug. 

“Because I care about you.” 

The answer was immediate. Simple. So simple it should have been easy to hear. 

Instead it made something inside your chest twist painfully, because Jaehyun always said things like that as if they were nothing at all. As if loving people was the most natural thing in the world. As if you were simply one of the people lucky enough to be on the receiving end of it. 

You turned your head slightly before he could catch whatever was written all over your face. 

“Still not telling me?” he asked. 

You sighed. “No.” 

He accepted that with only the slightest sigh of his own, then leaned over and stole one of your snacks anyway.

“Hey.” 

He looked at you blankly. “What?” 

“That was mine.”

He lifted it and took a bite. “It was mine five seconds ago.” 

“You are unbelievable.” 

You hated him a little bit for how easy he made this feel. Hated him a little bit for how much your body still wanted to lean into him out of habit. Hated, mostly, that he could sit here looking at you like this and your first instinct was still not danger, but comfort. 

You looked down at your hands, then finally blurted out, “Do you ever think we’re too close?” 

Jaehyun went quiet. Not long. Just enough. You immediately regretted speaking. 

He blinked once, then turned to look at you properly. 

“Too close?” he repeated. 

“Yes.” 

“Like, in a weird way?” 

You nodded, then immediately wished you hadn’t because now this was real. Jaehyun stared at you for a beat, clearly processing. 

Then he said, very seriously, “Are you asking this because you want me to stop hugging you?” 

Your head snapped up. “What? No.” 

“Because I can stop.” 

“No, don’t.” 

He looked faintly amused now, like he had already decided you were being dramatic, which honestly made things worse.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you muttered. 

“Then what are you implying?” 

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. 

Then finally said, a little too quietly, “Nothing.” 

Jaehyun watched you for another second, then reached over and nudged your knee with his. 

“Okay,” he said softly. “But if something is bothering you, you can always tell me.” 

There it was again. That stupid, gentle honesty. That stupid, steady kindness. That stupid way of making you feel safe enough to forget, for one second, that you were currently standing at the edge of a very confusing cliff. 

You looked at him. He looked back. Then, without warning, he smiled and rested his head lightly against your shoulder. You inhaled sharply.

“Jaehyun.” 

“Mm?” 

“You are doing it again.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Being weird.”

He laughed quietly against you. “You’re the one being weird.” 

You stared at the ceiling, helplessly aware of the fact that he had settled there like it was the most normal thing in the world. And maybe it was. Maybe that was the entire point. Maybe this was just Jaehyun. 

Maybe Sungho was reading too much into it. Maybe you were reading too much into it. Maybe— Your phone buzzed on the table. 

You reached for it reflexively, grateful for the interruption, and saw a new message from an unfamiliar number. Your thumb hovered over the screen for a second too long. 

taesan: hi. sungho gave me your number. i hope that’s okay? 

Then, because your body had apparently decided that simple things were now emotionally hazardous, you glanced at the couch. 

Jaehyun was still beside you, still leaning against your shoulder like he had no idea your entire internal world had just tilted off its axis. He was looking down at one of the snacks he had stolen from you, expression calm, posture loose, absolutely unbothered by the fact that he was currently taking up the exact amount of space your attention had somehow forgotten how to stop circling. 

You looked back at the message. And then, with the kind of hesitation usually reserved for life-altering decisions and suspiciously expensive purchases, you typed back. 

you: yeah, it’s okay :) 

you: sungho already told me a little 

The reply came faster than you expected. 

taesan: good 

taesan: i was about to apologize to you and him both 

That made you blink. You hadn’t even met him in person yet, and somehow Taesan already sounded like the sort of person who knew exactly how to respond without making things awkward. Which, unfortunately, only made you more aware that you were currently stuck in the middle of a situation that felt awkward in at least three separate ways. 

You hesitated, then typed again. 

you: it’s fine, really 

you: honestly i’m still trying to figure out what sungho thought he was doing 

A beat passed. 

Then: 

taesan: if it helps, i’m also trying to figure out what sungho thought he was doing 

You stared at the message for a second and let out a soft breath through your nose before you could stop yourself. That, at least, was funny. 

And Taesan’s tone was easy enough that some of the tension in your shoulders loosened by a fraction. Just enough to make the next message feel possible. 

You glanced at Jaehyun again. He was still looking at the snack in his hand, as if the universe had not just handed you a very inconvenient, very interesting new contact and then seated your best friend beside you like a live emotional trigger. 

The thing was, you could probably keep this to yourself. You could probably talk to Taesan for a while, let things develop slowly, and wait until you were less weird about the whole situation before telling Jaehyun anything at all. 

But the longer you sat there, the more uncomfortable it became not to say anything. Not because you needed permission. Just because Jaehyun was still Jaehyun, and he always knew when something was off, and you already had enough tension in your body without adding the weight of secrecy to it. 

So, before you could overthink yourself into silence again, you turned your phone slightly away from him and said, “So, Sungho gave me his friend’s number.” 

Jaehyun looked up immediately. Not sharply. Just enough. 

“Hmm?”

You swallowed. “He said I should talk to him.” 

Jaehyun’s expression stayed open, but his gaze shifted toward you with a little more focus now.

“Who?” 

You hesitated. For half a second, you wondered if maybe you really shouldn’t have said anything at all. Maybe this had been too abrupt. Maybe Jaehyun would think it was weird. Maybe he would be confused, or worse, visibly uncomfortable. The tiny pause in his expression — so brief you might have imagined it — made your stomach flip in an entirely unreasonable direction. 

You suddenly felt stupidly nervous. But you had already started, so you forced yourself to continue.

“Taesan,” you said. 

Jaehyun went quiet. It was not a dramatic silence. Not the kind that stretched and cracked and made rooms feel smaller. Just a pause. A thoughtful one. Still, your brain immediately took it and sprinted straight into disaster. 

Oh no. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Jaehyun had just realized something you had not, maybe he was about to tell you that this was a terrible match, or that he knew something about Taesan that Sungho had conveniently left out— 

Your pulse picked up in a very rude way. You blinked at him, still half-expecting the moment to turn. A pause that lasted too long. A little tightening around the eyes. A question that meant more than it sounded like it did. 

But Jaehyun only looked at you for a second, then gave that same soft, easy smile again. 

“Oh,” he said, like the name had simply clicked into place. “Taesan.” 

You waited. Nothing. 

He wasn’t frowning. He wasn’t looking away. He wasn’t doing anything that suggested he had suddenly decided this was a conversation he did not want to have. 

Instead, he nodded once to himself and said, with complete sincerity, “I know him.” 

That made your stomach do something unpleasantly uncertain. You had been bracing for a reaction that never came.

“Yeah?” you asked, too carefully. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, like there was no reason at all for this to be strange. “He’s a good guy.” 

You stared at him. He smiled a little wider, not teasing, not sharp, just warm in a way that somehow made your confusion worse instead of better. 

“I’m glad Sungho introduced you to him.” 

That was it. That was the whole reaction. No awkward silence this time. No jealousy. No strange tension. No hurt, no concern, no visible shift in the atmosphere at all. 

Just Jaehyun, still sitting beside you like he had not been asked anything remotely important. 

He reached for another snack, tore it open, and continued eating as if the conversation had ended before it had even begun. And somehow that was more unsettling than if he had looked upset. 

Because if he had been jealous, then at least you would have had an answer. If he had gone quiet in a way that felt heavy or strange, then maybe you would have known what that meant. But he wasn’t upset. He wasn’t jealous. 

He was just… fine. Completely, impossibly fine. 

You looked down at your phone again, then back at him, and the questions in your head only multiplied. 

Was he really that unconcerned? 

Had you read the whole thing wrong? 

Was he just good at hiding it? 

Or had there never been anything to read in the first place? 

Jaehyun glanced over at you, caught the expression on your face, and tilted his head.

“What?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

You opened your mouth. Then closed it again. Because now you were not only confused about Taesan. You were also confused about why Jaehyun’s calm felt so much worse than if he had said something honest and messy and human. 

He just waited, patient as ever, snack still in hand. And that made your brain spin even faster. 

You forced yourself to look back down at your phone and gave the smallest shrug you could manage.

“It’s nothing,” you said. 

Jaehyun’s eyes stayed on you for a second longer than necessary. You could feel him looking even without turning back.

Then, sure enough, he lifted one brow, expression mild but unmistakably attentive. “Are you sure?” 

Your first instinct was to overexplain. To scramble. To say something clever or casual or vague enough that he would stop asking questions and go back to being himself. 

But the problem was that Jaehyun always made that hard. He had a way of asking things like he genuinely cared about the answer, but never in a way that made you feel cornered. It was unfair, really. 

You pressed your lips together, then shook your head a little too quickly. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.” 

He studied you for another second, clearly unconvinced. 

Then, because he was Jaehyun and because he never pushed where you were trying not to be pushed, he simply hummed and let it go. 

“Okay,” he said softly. 

And then, as if the moment had never happened at all, he leaned back again and reached for another snack. You looked at him for a second longer than you meant to. 

He looked perfectly normal. Perfectly calm. Perfectly Jaehyun. That, somehow, only made the knot in your chest tighter. 

Two weeks passed after that. Two weeks of trying very hard to act normal. Two weeks of overthinking every look, every pause, every casual touch, every tiny bit of attention Jaehyun gave you, while also trying not to overthink the fact that he was still exactly the same. 

That was part of the problem. He had not changed. Not in any way you could actually point to. 

He still texted first. Still remembered the little things. Still laughed easily and made you feel comfortable. Still made it nearly impossible to tell whether the confusion in your head was something real or just something you had created all on your own. 

And that was the part that made you feel guilty. Because the longer you sat with it, the more you started to worry that maybe you were the one making things weird. 

Maybe Jaehyun had never intended for any of it to be read as anything more than affection. Maybe he really was just like this with you because you were close. Maybe Sungho had planted a thought in your head that would not go away now no matter how much you wanted it to. 

And maybe the reason everything felt awkward was because you were the only one making it awkward. Jaehyun, as always, seemed completely unconcerned. He had a knack for making you feel normal even when your own brain was determined to do the exact opposite. 

So eventually, after enough days of spiraling in silence, you decided to keep it to yourself. For now, at least. Maybe one day you would bring it up. Maybe you would ask him if the way he treated you was just Jaehyun being Jaehyun, or if there had ever been some hidden meaning you had been too scared to name. But not yet. 

So instead, you kept your questions tucked away where they could do the least damage. 

And in the meantime, Taesan kept texting. At first, it had been a little awkward. Not in a bad way — just the natural awkwardness of talking to someone new, of not yet knowing where the boundaries were, of figuring out whether your humor matched, whether the silence would be comfortable, whether the conversation would keep flowing once the polite opening messages were out of the way. 

But Taesan made it easy. Very annoyingly easy. He was funny in a dry, understated way that caught you off guard at least once a day. 

He actually listened. He responded like he meant what he said. He had a way of being present without trying too hard, which made the whole thing feel less like an introduction and more like the beginning of something that had the potential to become familiar. 

And, annoyingly, you found yourself looking forward to his messages. Sometimes you would catch yourself checking your phone faster than you meant to, just to see if he had replied. Sometimes you’d reread something he’d said because it was clever, or unexpectedly sweet, or because his jokes had that subtle edge to them that made you smile before you had a chance to stop yourself. 

There was one message in particular you had reread at least four times already, mostly because it had been so casually Taesan that it made your chest feel strangely warm. 

You had told him you were going to be busy for most of the day, and he had replied: 

taesan: then i’ll have to survive the silence 

taesan: tragic, really 

You had stared at that for a full five seconds before smiling to yourself like an idiot. 

And then, because apparently your brain had decided to become your own worst enemy, you reread it later. And again after that. And once more while sitting on the edge of your bed with your phone in your hand and an absolutely embarrassing little smile on your face. 

You didn’t even realize you were doing it until Jaehyun’s voice cut through the quiet. 

“Are you smiling at your phone?” 

You nearly dropped it. Your head snapped up so fast it probably should have hurt. 

Jaehyun was standing in the doorway with a paper bag in one hand and a very amused look on his face, clearly having already noticed far too much for your comfort. 

“What?” you said, far too quickly. 

He blinked at you, then glanced pointedly at your phone before looking back at your face. 

“You were smiling.” 

“I was not.” 

“Yes, you were.” 

You frowned and tried to recover some dignity. “You don’t know that.” 

“I do know that.” 

“Why were you looking?” 

He stepped fully into the room, still wearing that same calm expression that always made it impossible to tell whether he was being nosy on purpose or just naturally attentive. 

“Because you were making a face at your screen,” he said. “It was suspicious.” 

“It was not suspicious.” 

“It was a little suspicious.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re being weird.” 

Jaehyun looked personally offended by that. “I’m being observant.” 

You made a small, annoyed sound and turned the phone face-down on the bed, which only made him grin more. 

Then, because he was apparently determined to be impossible, he nodded toward the phone and said, very casually, “Is that Taesan?”

You froze. That, more than anything, was what made you look at him properly. 

Not because he’d asked. Because he had asked in exactly the tone he would have used if he were asking about the weather, or snacks, or whether you wanted the window open. Not because he sounded suspicious. Not because he sounded upset. Not because he sounded jealous. 

Just… curious. And that was what left you completely baffled. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Taesan,” Jaehyun repeated, like he hadn’t just casually stepped directly onto the minefield in your brain. “You’ve been talking to him recently, right?” 

You stared at him. He stared back, totally normal. 

You had expected— Well. Something. A raised brow that meant more than the words themselves. A second too long of silence. Anything that would confirm that the things you had spent the last two weeks obsessing over were real enough to be noticed. 

But Jaehyun just looked… fine. No strange expression. No hint that he was about to say something that would make your stomach drop. And that somehow made you more nervous than if he had. 

“Yeah,” you said carefully. 

His mouth curved slightly. “Mm. I could tell.” 

You blinked. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He shrugged, the movement lazy and easy. “It means you look happy.” 

That made you go very still. Because he wasn’t teasing in a sharp way. He wasn’t making fun of you. He just said it like it was obvious. Like it was perfectly normal for you to be smiling at your phone because a man named Taesan had texted you something mildly charming. 

And somehow that was devastating in a completely different direction. You opened your mouth, then closed it again. Jaehyun noticed, of course he did, and his expression shifted into the smallest bit of amusement.

“What?” he asked.

You frowned at him.

“Why are you saying it like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like that’s not weird.” 

His brows lifted slightly. “Why would it be weird?” 

You stared at him for a long second. Because that was the thing. It should have been weird. At least a little. 

If you had read the situation correctly, if there had really been some hidden something in the way Jaehyun acted around you, then surely this would have changed the atmosphere, just a little. Surely he would have been different about Taesan. Surely he would have at least looked uncomfortable, or irritated, or worried, or— But he didn’t. 

He just stood there in your doorway, looking mildly entertained and entirely normal, like he had not just watched you smile at a text from another guy and immediately decided it was something worth teasing you about. 

Which was honestly so much worse. Because now you had no idea what to do with him. Or with yourself. Or with the fact that Taesan’s texts could make you smile like that, and Jaehyun could catch it, and still somehow not make the whole room feel strange. 

You looked at Jaehyun with a kind of baffled frustration that had nowhere to go. He only gave you a soft, unreadable smile and set the paper bag down on your desk. 

Then he glanced over his shoulder and said, “Anyway, I brought you something to eat.” Just like that. 

And as he walked further into the room, already asking what you wanted from the bag, you were left sitting there with your phone in your hand and a dozen new questions in your head. 

Why wasn’t he weird about this? Why wasn’t he upset? Why did he sound happy for you? 

And, worst of all: Why did that make you feel even more certain that you were the one overthinking everything?

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

It’s been two weeks since that night.

Two weeks since you've kissed your friend. Two weeks since you've let him touch you in ways no one else ever has—since you've made a deal that you’ve repeated in your head so many times that it’s starting to feel less like a rule and more like a lie.

Still, things have stayed the same…on the surface.

You’ve both slipped back into your normal routines—laundry days, late-night ramen runs, and bickering over who left the bathroom light on. Everything looks the same from the outside; You laugh at his dumb jokes, you fight over the game controller like nothing’s changed. Like you didn’t just moan his name with your face buried in his pillow once.

Everything is back to the way it was.

Except…it’s not. Not really.

Because now, you’re aware of him. Really aware of him.

You catch him watching you during dinner, his chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth, eyes lingering just a little too long on your lips as you ramble about your day. When you're sitting on the floor playing games, your knees brushing his just slightly, and he doesn't move it. Sometimes, you catch the warmth of his hand ghosting over the small of your back when he reaches around you for the remote or a drink, like it’s innocent. Like it’s normal.

And you notice.

God, you notice.

You tried to ignore it at first, but how could you? Especially when you can feel your breath hitch when he's a little closer than usual. Your heartbeat skip when he smiles at you in a way that makes your thoughts go haywire. You’re becoming hyper-aware of him in a way that has nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with the way he made you feel that night.

But you tell yourself it’s nothing: You're just confused. A temporary glitch in your brain. Hormones. Residual tension. Whatever excuse you could come up with.

Because if you admit it’s more than that, if you admit you want him again—maybe even miss him—then you have to admit that something between you shifted, that the line you both crossed didn’t disappear after you pulled your dress back on and closed his door.

You keep thinking about what he said that night.

“I’ve always wanted to do this to you.”

“I always thought you were attractive.”

You've been replaying those words in your mind on loop, dissecting them from every possible angle like a problem you’re desperate to solve.

He said he’s wanted you. He's attracted to you. Wanted to touch you. Make you feel good. That much was obvious. But you’ve been clinging to the difference—wanting someone isn’t the same as liking them.

Not in the real way. Not in the “I think about you when you're not around, I want to wake up next to you, I want to know every messy part of you and stay anyway” kind of way.

Maybe it was just about sex. Chemistry. Timing.

Maybe you were just convenient.

And Beomgyu…he’s not the type to—

A soft knock on your door cuts through the haze of your thoughts.

You blink, your heart skipping like it got caught off rhythm. You clear your throat and call out,“Yeah?”

The door creaks open just a little, and Beomgyu peeks his head in.

“Hey,” he says casually. His voice is soft, but it still ripples through you like a shiver. “Just wanted to let you know I’m heading out to meet the guys. I’ll probably be back late, so I won’t be around for dinner.”

You sit up instinctively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and trying very hard not to let your gaze linger. He’s wearing that loose black hoodie he always pairs with ripped jeans and his usual silver chain.

Nothing out of the ordinary, but something about the way it all hangs on him tonight, effortless and cool, makes your stomach flip.

Of course it does.

He’s just standing there. Being him. And somehow that’s enough to throw you off balance.

You nod quickly, too quickly, before responding,“That’s fine. You didn’t have to tell me, you could’ve just… texted.”

He shrugs, leaning a little against the doorframe.“I just figured I’d say it in person.”

His eyes linger for a moment longer, just long enough to make your chest tighten before he reaches for the handle.

“Don’t wait up.” he says softly.

He starts to pull the door behind him when, without thinking, the words tumble from your mouth.

“Beomgyu—wait.”

You don’t even know why you said that. It’s out before your brain catches up, and the door pauses, just a sliver of him still visible. Then, slowly, he peeks his head back in.

His brows are raised slightly in surprise. “Yeah?”

He’s looking at you like you’ve said something important, and now you have to figure out what that something is. Your mouth opens, then closes. Your thoughts are scattered. You wish you had something clever to say, anything that didn’t make your heart feel like it’s about to burst out of your chest.

“I just…” You shift on the bed, your fingers clutching the blanket a little too tightly.

“Can we…talk? Sometime?”

There’s a brief pause. He tilts his head just slightly, looking at you with softened eyes. And then, he nods. A small, quiet motion, but the understanding in his gaze nearly knocks the air from your lungs.

“Yeah, Y/N.” He says,“We can talk.”

“Not right now, of course,” you add quickly, waving a hand,“I mean—you don’t have to. Just… whenever you're ready.”

He gives you a small smile—gentle, warm, a little crooked in the way that always makes your stomach do that stupid thing.

“Okay,” he says,“Let's talk soon.”

And just like that, he’s gone again, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

But this time, the silence he leaves behind feels different. The air suddenly feels heavier for some reason.

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

You’ve shifted in bed at least twenty times now, changed positions, adjusted your blanket, flipped your pillow over for the cooler side—none of it works.

You lie there, eyes wide open and locked onto the ceiling like it might offer some relief, but it doesn’t. It just stares right back, blank and unmoving, while your thoughts swirl like a storm you can’t escape.

Beomgyu.

That night.

You close your eyes tightly as you try to ignore the thoughts that are running through your head, but no matter what you do, you can't seem to stop thinking about him—about what happened.

You remember the heat of his breath against your neck, the pressure of his hips against yours, the sounds he made whenever you moaned into his mouth.

You can't stop thinking about how his body felt on yours, how good it felt to have him on top of you, how good it felt when he was rubbing his cock on your pussy.

You sigh in frustration and close your eyes once more. You turn around on your bed and cover your face with a pillow.

As much as you try to deny yourself, he's all you could ever think about. You've been wanting him again since that night.

You try to push those thoughts away, or forget it even happened, but it's no use. Your body remembers; It aches with the memory of him.

You hate that you feel like this. You hate how badly you still want him— even when you’ve told yourself so many times that it was a one-time thing, that it wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

Before you know it, your hand slides under the hem of your shirt, tentative at first. You don’t even realize what you’re doing until your fingers graze your skin and your breath catches.

You imagine it’s him. His hands, not yours. His lips at your throat. His voice low and rough, praising you, teasing you. You imagine him kissing you like he's been starved of it. You imagine his weight on top of yours as he touches you.

You want him. You want him so bad that you couldn't think straight.

You take off your shorts and throw it across the room. You start touching yourself, imagining that it was him.

Your hand moves with purpose, mimicking the rhythm of his hips that you so vividly remember from that night. You start imagining him rubbing his cock on your clit. You start imagining his cock sliding between your folds. You start imagining him fucking you.

“Mmm…” you moan softly as your fingers brush against your clit slowly.

Two of your fingers slip inside you, and you gasp at the sudden fullness. They curl upward, and you can't help but arch your back into the pillow, imagining his strong arms holding you down, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

You pump your fingers in and out, increasing the tempo, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. You're lost in the fantasy, in the delicious torture of wanting him so badly that it physically hurts.

“More please, Beomgyu...” You whisper as you imagine his tongue tracing the line of your collarbone, his teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh, making you squirm and moan for more.

Your thumb circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, and you bite your bottom lip to stifle the cry that threatens to escape. Your body tightens, a coil of pleasure winding up tighter and tighter.

“Ahh...! Beomgyu!!” you groan, crying out his name as you come all over your fingers. Your legs start shaking, and your pussy clenches at nothing. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, and you ride it out.

When you come down from your high, you realize what you've just done. You’re still lying there, chest rising and falling slowly as your pulse calms, but something else starts to settle in the stillness.

Guilt.

Not the light, teasing kind, but the kind that coils in your gut, low and heavy and cold.

Because as the warmth fades from your limbs, reality floods back in—and it hits you all at once.

You just touched yourself.

To the thought of Beomgyu.

Your best friend.

Your roommate.

The same Beomgyu who made you laugh through hangovers, who stayed up with you when you were heartbroken, who’s seen you in ratty pajamas and no makeup and still called you cute just to make you roll your eyes. The same Beomgyu who held you that night two weeks ago like he’d been waiting forever to do it.

But still.

You haven’t even talked since then. Not really. Not about what happened, not about what it meant.

And here you are, lying in your bed in the middle of the night, using the memory of him to get off like it’s some casual fantasy. Like it didn’t mean anything.

But it did. You know it did.

But now, in the dark, tangled up in guilt and craving, you can’t lie to yourself about it. Not really.

You sit up slowly, the weight of it all pressing down on your shoulders. Shame crept up your neck, your cheeks. You run a hand through your hair, exhaling hard, like you could push the thoughts out of your head if you just breathed hard enough.

You haven’t even figured out what you feel yet.

You don’t even know if he likes you. Not the way you’ve started to think about him when it’s quiet. When you let your guard down.

You just know that it felt good, so so good—to pretend; To imagine that he wanted you like that, that he meant what he said that night, that it wasn’t just lust, that it could be more.

You stand up on shaky legs, reaching for your towel with the hope that a hot shower might scrub the thoughts off your skin. You don’t even make it three steps before you hear your phone buzz behind you.

You pause for a moment before turning back.

The screen lights up like a curse. You catch a glimpse of a text notification from Beomgyu appear through your lock screen. You stare at the message.

Beomgyu: I can hear you.

You freeze in place.

The air leaves your lungs in one short, panicked gasp.

No. No fucking way.

Your fingers hover over the screen for a second too long. Your mind is in chaos, racing, spiraling. The longer you wait, the more it feels like you have to say something before the silence turns lethal.

So you type without thinking, leaning on denial like it’s your last defense.

You: what are you talking about?

You hit send and immediately regret it. It’s flimsy. Weak. Painfully obvious. You can already picture the smirk pulling at his lips as he reads it.

His reply is almost immediate.

Beomgyu: I heard you moan my name just now. I know I wasn’t just imagining things.

You flinch, your mouth falling open just slightly.

The flush creeps up your neck so fast you have to sit down. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself against the full weight of humiliation crashing down on you.

Your hands tremble as you reply again, more desperate this time, like maybe there’s still a way to make this go away.

You: but you literally aren't even home yet??

The dots appear. Then stop. Then appear again.

And then,

Beomgyu: You seriously think I’m still out?

You immediately shift your attention to the top of your phone. Your eyes widen when you see that it's already 1:50 AM.

When did it get so late?

You’d been so lost in your thoughts, so lost in him, that the hours slipped right through your fingers. You’d convinced yourself you were alone, when really… he was here. Maybe in the room next door. Maybe just on the other side of the wall.

And he heard you.

The silence stretches now, this time from you. You stare at the screen, not knowing what to say, not even sure what you could say.

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when you finally realize what's happening. You didn't even think that he might already be home.

You set the phone down, cover your face with your hands, and groan softly into your palms.

Then — another buzz.

You felt your heart jump into your throat.

You reach for it hesitantly, scared of what he might’ve said next. And when you finally gather the courage to look:

Beomgyu: I’m so hard right now. I need you. Help me out?

You freeze, fingers gripping the edges of your phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to the moment. Your heart is pounding — hard enough that you feel it echo in your throat.

You don't know what to say. You don't know how to respond.

Beomgyu: Y/N, please?

Your thumbs hover, unsure and nervous, but also... curious.

You: how?

You hit send before you can talk yourself out of it.

The moment stretches. A beat. Two.

Then, your screen lights up again.

Beomgyu: I’m outside your door.

You jolt, head snapping toward the door like it might vanish if you blink.

He’s here?

Like, right now?

You sit up straighter, adrenaline rushing through you in one wild, dizzying wave. You don’t even remember hearing his footsteps— didn’t hear the hallway creak or his soft knock.

But now, he’s standing just on the other side of that door. Waiting.

Your phone buzzes again.

Beomgyu: Open the door for me, please?

Your breath hitches.

With trembling hands, you retrieve your discarded shorts and panties from the floor, sliding them back on in a hasty attempt to regain some semblance of decency.

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before you tiptoe to the door. You pause, one last second of hesitation before slowly pulling it open. The soft click of the lock sounding louder than a gunshot in the stillness of the night.

And there he is.

Beomgyu.

His hair is a mess, like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over. He’s still dressed in what he wore earlier. That effortlessly casual fit that always looked too good on him, but now it’s a little rumpled, like he’d been pacing or shifting anxiously.

His chest is rising and falling faster than usual. And when his eyes meet yours, it knocks the air right out of you.

There's something hungry in them. Unmistakable.

He looks like he wants to say something— maybe explain, maybe apologize — but all of it dies on his tongue as his gaze sweeps over you. Slowly. Almost reverently.

Like you’re the only thing he sees.

And when his eyes return to yours, they’re darker now, filled with something raw, something intense.

He's looking at you with so much hunger in his eyes that it makes you weak in the knees. He looks like he wants to devour you. He looks like he needs you; Like he can't wait another second without you, like he’s barely holding himself back.

You open your mouth slightly to speak, but before you can even say anything, he's already on you.

He pushes you back into your room and closes the door behind him. He pushes you down onto your bed and gets on top of you. He starts kissing you passionately, like he's been wanting to do this for so long.

His hands explore you, tracing the familiar curves and planes of your body, igniting every nerve with each touch. The kiss deepens, and you lose yourself in it—breathless and dizzy.

“Beomgyu,” you murmur against his lips, the sound barely a whisper but loaded with feeling.

He breaks away slowly, eyes dark and shimmering with something raw and desperate.

“Y/N,” he breathes out, his voice thick and husky with desire that it's coming out almost shaky,“I need you. I need you so bad, it’s driving me crazy.”

You hesitate, looking away quickly, your cheeks burning, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

“I wanted to talk to you first,” you whisper, “About what happened. Before… before anything else.”

His bottom lip trembles, and his voice drops to a whiny, almost heartbreaking tone.

“That’s not fair,” he says, sounding half upset, half desperate.

“You just—you got off thinking about me, and now that I'm here you won’t even help me? Please, Y/N…” He cups your face, turning your head slightly to make you face him,“Don't beat yourself up about this. We both know you want it. We both know that you want me. I can feel it.”

You couldn't speak. His breathy voice, full of desperation and need, suddenly sends a jolt of electricity throughout your body. He's so close to you, and it's making you dizzy with want.

But you can't just jump into this again without even talking about what happened. That's not how it should be.

“Beomgyu...I—” You try to say something, but you can't. He senses your hesitation, and his eyes soften a little.

You try to pull back, but he tightens his hold gently, eyes begging.“It's okay. We can talk about this afterwards...but right now,” he murmurs, voice cracking,“I need you, please.”

His desperation is almost heartbreaking, and despite every warning in your mind, your body betrays you with a tremble.

He's asking you for permission. He's giving you a chance to back out, but you don't want to. You want this. You want him. And that's all that matters right now.

You nod slowly, giving him the permission he's asking for. You move your hand to the back of his head, slightly pulling him in closer. He gets the hint and immediately captures your lips with his once more.

His hand trails down your body, touching and caressing you everywhere. He knows what he's doing, and it's driving you crazy. His hands are so warm on your skin, and his lips are so soft against yours.

You can't get enough of him. You want more and more of him. You want all of him.

His lips trail down to your neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there. His teeth graze your skin, and it sends shivers down your spine. He's making you feel so good, and you can't get enough of it. He's driving you crazy with desire.

“Been wanting to do this again, couldn't stop thinking about it…” he pulls away just a little, his lips moving up to your ear. He licks your earlobe teasingly as he whispers into your ear, his voice breathy and desperate.

“Fuck, Y/N. You don't know what you do to me.”

He bites your earlobe, and you moan in response. His lips trail down your neck once more, this time to your collarbone. He kisses and licks at the skin there, making you even more aroused.

You can feel his hard cock on your thigh, strained by his pants and it's making you even wetter. You want it. You need it inside of you.

“Beomgyu, please…” You beg, wanting more of him.

He looks up at you and smirks. He knows what you want. He knows what you need.

His lips start trailing down to your chest, his hand pushing your shirt up to reveal your breasts to him. He starts sucking on one of your nipples, making you moan in pleasure. His other hand is squeezing and caressing your other breast, making you even more turned on.

“Beomgyu—!” You can't help but moan as he bites and sucks on your nipples. The sensation was driving you to the edge.

He switches to your other breast, giving it the same attention as the other one. His hand is on your thigh now, trailing up to your pussy. He starts rubbing it through your panties, and you can't help but squirm at the sensation.

“You're so fucking wet, I wanna eat you out. Can I? Please?” He asks as he looks up at you with pleading eyes.

You nod, unable to say no to him, not when he's looking at you like that. And especially not when you want it too. He smirks and immediately takes off your panties. He throws them across the room before diving in, eager to taste you.

His mouth is on your pussy, licking and sucking on your clit. His tongue flicks at the sensitive bud, making you moan even louder. He's eating you out like a starving man, like he can't get enough of you. And you love it. You love the way he's making you feel. You love how he's pleasuring you.

His tongue enters your hole, making you moan out his name. His finger enters you as well, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. His mouth is still on your clit, sucking and licking at it. Adding another finger inside you, he starts to fuck you harder with his fingers, his tongue still on your clit. And it's driving you insane.

“Feels so good...Ah—Beomgyu!” you scream out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers on you all at once becoming too much for your to handle.

You can't help but move your hips, trying to get more friction. You want more of him. You need more of him.

You feel yourself getting close and close to your release, but Beomgyu suddenly stops.

You look at him, confused and frustrated at the same time. You were so close, and yet...

“Shit. Sorry, Y/N,” he pulls away from your cunt, his face covered with your juices as he apologizes. His voice is breathy and shaky as he quickly takes off his clothes.

“S-sorry…I can't hold it…need you to touch me…” He says as he hurries to take off his hoodie. His hands are quick to unbuckle his belt, and soon he's pulling his pants down along with his boxers, freeing his hard cock. He throws his clothes across the room, not caring where it lands.

You take him in, his naked frame hovering above you. You can’t help but let out a soft gasp at the sight of him.

Heat rushes straight to your core as you take in the sight of his naked body. Your cunt is leaking, and you know you’re already wet for him.

He sees the shift in your expression, and a knowing smirk forms on the corners of his lips. His eyes darken with lust as he looks at you, taking in the way you’re looking at his body. He knows you like what you see.

Without saying anything, he takes your hand and slowly guides it to his hard cock. It’s already leaking pre-cum, and you can feel the heat radiating from it. You can see the pre-cum oozing out of the tip, and you find yourself licking your lips at the sight. You want to taste him. You want to feel his cock in your mouth.

He moans softly as your hand wraps around his cock. You start pumping it, feeling him twitch in your hand as you stroke him.

“F-fuck, Y/N…keep going…” He moans, his eyes closing in pleasure as you move your hand faster.

However, your hand slows down as you lean closer to him. You plant a kiss on the tip of his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes— as if asking for his permission to take him into your warm mouth.

His eyes open at the sudden change of pace, and he looks at you through hooded eyes. He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. He’s looking at you with so much need and desire that it makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, like you’re the only one who can satisfy him.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice breathy and hot with need,“You wanna suck me off?”

“Mhmm...” You nod, looking at him expectantly.“Can I?” You ask, your voice soft and gentle. He groans at your words, his hips bucking slightly.

Beomgyu's eyes widen a fraction, and he nods vigorously, the anticipation thick in the air.“Yes, yes, please.” He whispers, his voice strained with need.

You lean in, your plush lips wrapping around the head of his cock, your tongue swirling around the tip as you taste the saltiness of his pre-cum. You take him in deeper, inch by inch, feeling his size stretch your mouth. His eyes roll back in pleasure, his hands finding your hair, threading through the strands as he guides your movements.

You suck him with a passionate hunger that matches his own, your cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper, your tongue sliding along the underside of his shaft. The room fills with the sound of your wet, sloppy mouth working him over, and his harsh breaths and grunts of pleasure.

He's so hard, and you know you're doing it right. You moan around his cock, the vibration sending shivers through him.

“Feels so fucking good...” He gasps, his grip on your hair tightening.

You look up at him, your eyes watering slightly, but you don't stop. You love the way he looks at you when you're like this, like you're the only thing in the world that matters to him.

And just when you think you can't take it anymore, he pulls away, panting,“Wait—not like this, Y/N,” he says, his voice thick with need.“I want to be inside you when I cum.”

Your heart skips a beat and you nod, your cheeks flushed at his words. You're ready for him. You're ready to feel him inside you. You want him to fill you up, to make you his. And you know he wants it just as much as you do.

He moves closer to you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, tasting you, claiming you. His hands roam your body, touching every inch of you. His touch sets your skin on fire, and you feel like you're going to explode with need. You’re desperate for his touch, your body aching for his cock.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you. He positions his cock at your entrance, making you gasp as his warm cock slips between your wet folds. He rubs himself on your slit, making you even wetter.

“Fuck…” He breathes out, hissing curses under his breath as he feels how wet you are.

You feel his tip hitting your sensitive clit, and you can’t help but moan.

“Beomgyu...stop teasing…” You groan, your grip on his arm tightening.

You can’t take it anymore. You need him inside you. Now. You’re so wet, and you can feel your juices running down your thighs. You want to feel every inch of him inside you. You need to feel him stretch you out, to feel him pumping in and out of your tight hole. You want to feel your cunt gripping his cock like a vice. You want to be his, and you want him to be yours. And you want it all right now.

You move your hand from his arms to cup his cheek. You gaze at his dark, lust-filled eyes, your fingers moving to touch his soft, swollen lips.

“Please… I need you inside…” You manage to breathe out.

You know there’s no turning back after this, but you don’t care. You want him. You need him. You can’t deny yourself anymore. You can’t deny the way you feel about him. You’ve wanted him since that night, and now you have him.

He looks down at you, his eyes filled with so much desire that you can’t help but feel like you’re going to combust. His fucked-out face immediately darkens, like a switch has been flipped.

“Yeah? How badly do you wanna have it, huh?” He coos, his voice husky and teasing. His fingers find your clit once more, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub. You throw your head back and moan, unable to control yourself. His touch is driving you crazy with want. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and it’s making you feel things you’ve never felt before.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.“How badly do you want my cock inside you? Tell me, baby.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning over your ear.

You felt heat rush to your core at his words, the pet name sending shivers all over your body, your pussy clenching at the thought of finally having him inside you.

“I need it,” you whisper back, your voice breathy with need.“I need your cock, Beomgyu. Want you to fill me up, please…” You moan, your hips bucking up to meet his fingers.

He groans, and you can feel his cock twitch against your slit. He wants you just as much as you want him.

“Please, Beomgyu…” You beg, your hands gripping his hair tightly,“Please, I need you…” Your voice trails off into a soft moan as his fingers continue to work on your clit.

“Fuck…” You hear him whisper, his voice strained.“You want my cock that bad, huh? Gonna feel so fucking good, baby… gonna make you feel so good…” He smirks, his eyes gleaming with desire as he continues to rub your clit.

You nod, biting your lip as you look up at him,“Yes… yes… please… Beomgyu, I need it… want your cock so bad…” You moan out, your hands moving to grip his arms.

He groans again, his cock twitching against your slit once more.“Fuck, if you keep begging like that… I'm gonna give you what you want, baby… Gonna fill you up so good…” He whispers, his voice husky with lust.

He slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. You gasp as you feel him stretching you out. His cock is so big, and it feels so good inside you; It felt so much better than you ever imagined.

“Ah!” You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as you feel him bottoming out. He’s so deep inside you, and it feels amazing.

He stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, but he soon starts moving, pulling out until just the tip is in before slamming back inside. You cry out, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

He starts pumping in and out, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. His cock is hitting all the right spots, and you know you won’t last long.

“Fuck, you’re so tight…” He moans out, his voice strained.“So fucking wet… just for me…” He bites his lip, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.“You like that? You like my cock inside your tight little hole, baby?” He looks down at you with a grin, his thrusts never stopping.

“Yes!” You can’t help but cry out as you feel your orgasm approaching.“Yes, yes, Beomgyu! Mmmh..!!” His name is a moan on your lips, and he loves the sound of it. He loves the way you're moaning his name.

“Yeah? You love my cock, don’t you?” He smirks as he thrusts even harder and faster into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Yes! Yes, I love it! Feels so good!” You moan out, unable to stop yourself. You love the way his cock feels inside you. It feels so right. It feels like it belongs there.

He grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic,“I'm about to cum soon, baby…” He groans out, “Wanna cum inside you so bad, make you mine… gonna let me fill you up?” His eyes darken with need as he looks down at you.

“Yes! Yes! Please, Beomgyu! I'm so close... please..!!” You beg, your orgasm nearing. You want to cum on his cock so badly. You want to feel it inside you when you cum. You need it.

He smirks down at you as he thrusts harder and faster. You feel yourself reach your high as you start cumming, your pussy clenching around his cock tightly. He groans, his thrusts slowing down as he cums deep inside you.

You feel his hot cum filling you up, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips. It feels so good, so right.

“Fuck, Y/N…” He moans as he pulls out, his cum leaking out of your pussy. You look at him, your eyes filled with desire and satisfaction. You know you made the right choice. You know this is what you wanted. You wanted him. And now you have him. And it felt amazing.

He soon rolls over to his back, breathing heavily from his release. You turn to your side to face him, and you soon find yourself drowning in thoughts once again, the ones you buried before when you made your decision, the feelings you never had the courage to express.

And the reality hits you once again.

You just fucked your roommate.

You just let your best friend cum inside you like it was the most normal thing to do.

You don’t even know if he feels the same way as you do. If he likes you more than a friend. If he wanted you more than just sex. You don't even fucking know if he wants you again after this.

You were about to spiral once again when you felt his fingers glaze over your ear, tucking a strand of hair that was blocking your face. You’re immediately snapped out of it when you meet his gaze. He looks at you intently, like he’s trying to convey everything without words. You felt your heart skipping a beat when he looks at you like that, like you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. You see the expression in his eyes shift, but this time it’s different; It's not filled with lust.

His eyes are filled with something you’re more familiar with, one you always see in his eyes when he looks at you but tries his best to hide— the way he always looked at you like this but pretends it’s not what it looks like.

“Do you… like me?” You blurt out, immediately regretting it the moment you did.

He's taken aback, and you mentally slapped yourself.

That was so stupid! Why did you do that? Why did you have to ask that?! What if he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore after this? What if—

“Are you kidding, Y/N?” Beomgyu says seriously, almost offended as if you asked him if the Earth is flat.

You look at him like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing what to say.

“Of course I do,” he says with finality, his tone leaving no room for argument. You blink in surprise, not expecting him to answer that so fast.

“You’re my best friend. I love spending time with you. I can't spend a day without thinking about you. I like you… I like you so much.” He looks at you with his signature smile, the one he always gives you when he’s teasing you. But this time, there’s no teasing. There’s no denying. It’s all out there in the open. You see the sincerity in his eyes, the fondness, the love. You see everything.

“Yeah. I like you, Y/N. Fuck, more than that, actually. I’m in love with you, and have been for so long,” he says, a hint of shyness in his voice as he admits his feelings.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. The realization hits you, and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. He likes you. He’s been in love with you this whole time, and he's finally telling you. And he’s not just saying it because he wants to have sex with you again— He’s saying it because it’s true. He’s saying it because he means it. He’s saying it because you’re asking him to.

“Since when?” You find yourself asking, your voice barely a whisper. You're in shock. You can't believe you're actually having this conversation with him.

Beomgyu chuckles softly,“Since the day I met you. You caught my eye the moment I saw you.” He looks into your eyes, his gaze soft.“You stole my heart from the moment you first smiled at me,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask, your voice still soft, but this time there's a tinge of sadness in your voice.

“I was afraid. Afraid of losing you. Afraid of ruining what we had. I was content with just being your friend, your roommate.” He sighs, his eyes looking away from yours, “But then that night happened. And I couldn’t hide it anymore. I couldn’t pretend anymore.” He turns to look at you again.

“I couldn’t stop myself from kissing you. I couldn't help but want you for myself.”

The moment he said that, everything suddenly clicked. You felt so stupid for not realizing this sooner.

You suddenly remembered all those times you became more aware of him when he lingered his gaze on you for just a second longer than he should have. His soft touches that were just a little too long. The way he knew exactly what your favorite foods are, and he’d buy them for you. The way he’d put his games on hold just to listen to you rant about your day. The way he would tell you to stop going out on dates with guys, even though he wouldn’t say why. You thought he was just being nice. You thought he was being a good roommate, a good friend. You thought that’s just how he is.

But now you know the truth. He did it all because he loves you. He did it all for you, because of you.

Because he's in love with you.

You felt your heart beating so fast at the realization, your head dizzy with thoughts you never thought possible.

“Beomgyu…” You start, unsure of how to continue. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know where this is going. You don’t know if this changes anything. You don’t know…

“It’s okay,” he says, as if reading your mind. “You don’t have to figure it out right now,” he reassures you.

“No, I—It’s just…” You trail off, looking away from his gaze.

You don’t know how to tell him. You don’t know how to put into words all the thoughts that are running in your head right now.

“It’s just… I never thought of you in that way… I always thought that I was looking too much into it whenever I noticed how you tried to make me aware of you… it was never anything more than that to me before, but then… after that night… I- I didn’t want to stop thinking about it… about you… I couldn't get you out of my head... and I don’t know what it means, I-”

The words came tumbling out of your mouth without you even noticing, but you knew he can already piece it all together.

You look up at him, expectantly, almost pleading him to help you understand what you're feeling. He just chuckles and kisses you on the forehead, stopping you in your tracks.

“Sorry, you’re just too cute, I couldn’t help it.” He mutters, his eyes filled with fondness as he stares at you. You feel your cheeks heating up, and you don’t know what else to say. You just feel your heart skip a beat.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” he starts, his voice soft and reassuring,“It’s okay to not know how you feel right now. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just… I just wanted to let you know how I feel. I wanted you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what.” His eyes are filled with sincerity, and you can see the truth in his words.

He’s telling the truth. He means it. And you can feel it in your heart.

He loves you. And you love him.

You want to tell him, to let him know, but you don’t want to say anything you’ll regret.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Beomgyu, I'm—” You start again, looking him in the eyes.

“I…” You trail off again, your mind going in circles. You don’t want to make a mistake.

You don’t want to hurt him, but you also don’t want to lie to him.

You don’t want him to think that you don’t care.

You don’t want him thinking that you don’t feel anything for him.

You open your mouth again, trying to find the right words, but Beomgyu cuts off your attempt.

“You don’t happen to have any plans today, do you?” He says suddenly, catching you off guard.

You shake your head immediately, confused by the change of topic.

“Great. Then go on a date with me, and you can tell me how you feel then.” He smiles, that annoying, confident smirk of his plastered on his face.

You're stunned. You can't believe what he just said. You can't believe he just asked to take you out, but at the same time, you can't help but feel the warmth in your chest. You feel like you're feeling everything all at the same time.

You take a deep breath and manage to get your words out.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

He smiles and kisses you again, this time on the lips. You can’t help the butterflies that flutter in your stomach, and you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Now, go take a shower and get ready. I’ll take you out on the best date ever.”

You laugh and roll your eyes,“Pretty confident there, aren’t we?” You tease him.

“Of course. I’ve seen all your failed attempts at dating. I know what not to do now,” he chuckles.“Plus, I’m going to show you how much you’ve been missing out on by not dating me sooner,” he adds, that annoying smirk back on his face again.

You roll your eyes again at his remark, but you can’t help the warmth that spreads in your chest. He’s being so absurd, so full of himself… and yet, it makes your stomach do somersaults. It makes your heart skip a beat. It makes you smile.

You hit his chest playfully, pushing him away from you.“Ugh, whatever. Just go shower already,” You say, hiding yourself under the covers.

“I’ll go shower first then. Feel free to join me if you want,” he teases you before you can stop him.

“You wish!” You scream back, hearing him chuckle as he closes your door.

You hear his laughter fading away as he goes back to his room.

You’ve been on so many dates with so many guys, and none of them made you feel the way you're feeling right now. You already knew you were going to have the time of your life, even before the date even started. You've never felt so happy, excited, and nervous all at once before.

And then you realized, everything suddenly becoming clear to you.

You already knew what your answer to Beomgyu is going to be.

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

You slammed the apartment door a little harder than you meant to, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. Shoes kicked off, purse discarded, you didn’t bother with the usual routine. No makeup removal, no changing into pajamas, no mulling over texts. Just headed straight to Beomgyu’s room.

You don’t know if it’s because you’re angry, because you’re sad, or maybe because you’re feeling both at once, but you just don’t bother knocking anymore. You open the door and go straight for his bed, plopping yourself down dramatically, face-first into the pillow, letting out a sigh that sounded like it had been steeped in every bad date you’d ever had.

He doesn’t seem to mind your sudden presence; in fact, he doesn’t even acknowledge it. The click of buttons, the occasional shout from his game friends, and Beomgyu’s lazy laughter surrounded his room.

You stay there quietly, waiting for him to finish his game. This wasn't the first time he was going to hear about your dates that ended up really badly. 

You stared at his ceiling. It had a weird crack that looked like a lopsided cat. You didn’t know why you always noticed that. Maybe because this wasn’t the first time you’d ended up in his room after some kind of disaster.

After a few minutes, you hear him say his goodbyes before he takes his headphones off and finally acknowledges your presence.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go,” he said into his mic. “Emergency roommate depression. Yeah, again. Later.”

The click of his headset hitting the desk was immediately followed by the sound of him turning in his chair.

“So? How was the date?”

It’s a simple question, but you already know the answer, and so does he.

“Guess,” you mumble as you lay on your side and rest your head on one of your arms.

“I don’t even have to guess at this point.” he says, and even without looking at him, you can sense that he already knows the answer.

You sigh before sitting up and turning to face him.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to do anymore,” you say as you fiddle with your fingers.“It’s always the same thing. I meet a guy, I like him, we agree to go on a date, I get all dressed up, and then…”

“…And then?” he asks as he leans back in his gaming chair.

“….He doesn’t show up. Or he’s just an asshole.” you finish before sighing once again.

“Asshole, huh?” he asks, and you don’t miss the hint of anger in his voice.“What did he do?”

“Oh, you know? The usual. Acted like a complete dick to me the whole night,” you say, and even though you don’t look at him, you could sense him clenching his jaw.

“Y/N, I've probably said this a hundred times by now, but you deserve better.” he says, but before he can continue, you cut him off.

“I know, I know. I just don’t understand why I keep getting these shitty dates,” you say with a sigh as you run a hand through your hair.

“Maybe it’s because you keep agreeing to go on dates with anyone who asks,” he suggests, and you can’t help but glare at him.“You should be more careful about who you go on a date with.”

“Gee, thanks for the tip.” you say sarcastically, and you could only hear him sigh.

You were still in that damn dress—the one your friend swore would make you look “irresistibly hot” even if it showed a little too much for a first date. At the time, you let her talk you into it. Now, after hours of forced small talk and red flags wrapped in cologne, you just felt exposed.

You lay sprawled across Beomgyu’s bed, on your stomach, elbows planted firmly into the mattress, chin resting in your hands as you recounted every painful second of your disaster date.

“And then—then—he told me he doesn’t believe in therapy. Like, what the hell does that even mean?”

You huffed dramatically, too wrapped up in your rant to notice the way Beomgyu's eyes had slowly drifted south. It wasn’t until the room went quiet and you glanced up that you caught him—not zoning out, but straight up staring.

His eyes lingered shamelessly on the way your dress dipped when you leaned forward. You were so caught up in your little rant that you didn’t even notice him staring at your tits until you stopped talking and looked at him. 

“Beomgyu,” you call as you sit up and face him once again.“Were you even listening?”

“I was.” he replied a beat too late, voice smooth but unconvincing.

You narrowed your eyes.“I’m pouring my heart out, and you’re just—ogling me?”

“I swear I was listening, I'm sorry.” he says as he stands up and begins walking towards you.“But hey, I could make you feel better, if you’d like.” 

You rolled your eyes.“You wish.”

But he kept walking toward you, deliberate and slow, and the way he looked at you like you were something he wanted, like he wasn’t just teasing anymore—sent your heart into overdrive.

“Beomgyu, what are you—” you began, but the words caught in your throat as he stopped right in front of you.

“Come on,” he said, voice low and inviting.“Let me help you forget that shitty excuse of a date.”

You stared at him, mouth parting slightly. For a second, your brain stopped functioning.

This was Beomgyu. Your roommate. Your friend. Your confidant.

And yet, something in the way he was looking at you now made you wonder if you’d been blind this entire time.

“Uh, Beomgyu,” You stepped back with a nervous laugh, your heart doing weird things in your chest.“...What the fuck?”

He just shrugged, casual as ever. “You didn’t say no.”

You gaped at him.“Are you seriously trying to seduce me right now?”

“What do you think?” he said, deadpan. And annoyingly enough, it was working—because even as you glared at him, your thoughts were already spiraling. You had never really let yourself think of him like that before, but now?

Now, it was like someone had turned the lights on.

Tall, confident, annoyingly attractive—and that smirk. God, that smirk could ruin you.

You hesitated, war with yourself clear in your eyes. And then, recklessly, you gave in. As stupid as it sounds, you let him do what he wants.

On one condition, though. He’s not allowed to penetrate you.

“Okay,” you say finally, voice quiet but sure. “But I'm not letting you put your dick inside me. Like, no actual sex, no penetration.”

Beomgyu blinked once, then let out a soft, amused laugh.“So I can do anything else… just not that?”

“Pretty much.” you said, trying not to sound as breathless as you felt.

He tilted his head, giving you a slow, delicious smile.

“Deal.”  

And then he leaned in, one hand reaching to cradle your jaw as his lips finally found yours—warm, deliberate, and nothing like you expected.

You close your eyes and kiss him back, letting out a small moan when you feel his tongue push its way inside your mouth. You kiss him back eagerly, matching his movements as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grabs you by your waist and pulls you closer to him, making you sit up on the edge of the bed, and you do willingly. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you.

He runs his hands up and down your sides before stopping at your breasts. He cups them and begins squeezing them gently, and you moan into the kiss. You feel him smile against your lips as he continues to play with your tits over your dress.

He pulls away from the kiss and looks at you as he continues to grope your tits.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispers before leaning down and pressing his lips against your neck.“I’ve always wanted to do this to you.”

You let out a breathy moan as you feel him plant kisses all over your neck.

“Always?” you ask breathlessly, and you feel him nod against your neck.

“I always thought you were attractive,” he says as he pulls away and looks at you.“I just didn't have the balls to tell you, and I regret that.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything before?” you ask, and you feel him smirk against your skin.

“I didn’t think you’d reciprocate,” he whispers before biting your neck, making you moan in pleasure.

“That feels good,” you whisper as you run a hand through his hair.“More, please.”

He obeys immediately and begins sucking on your neck as he continues to play with your breasts over your dress. You let out a moan as you hold onto him tightly.

You feel him push you until you’re lying on his bed once again, and he doesn’t waste any time pulling the straps of your dress down, revealing your bare chest to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he stares at your tits hungrily.“Your tits are so nice.”

He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth while his hand plays with the other one. You throw your head back in pleasure as you run a hand through his soft hair.

He continues to lavish attention on your tits, sucking, nibbling, and licking them, and you let out a moan each time his teeth graze over your nipple.

“Beomgyu!” you call out breathlessly as you pull him closer to your chest. 

He continues his assault on your tits as he grinds his erection against your leg, and you pull him even closer. You can feel his erection straining against his pants, and it makes you even wetter knowing that he’s hard for you.

“Please,” you moan as you grip his hair tightly.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks as he pulls away from sucking your tits to look at you.

“Please, Beomgyu,” you beg.“Take this off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you breathe out as you look at him pleadingly.“Please.”

“Okay,” he says before standing up and pulling you with him.

You stand in front of him as he undresses you. You look up at him as he slowly pulls the zipper of your dress down and pushes it down your body, letting it pool at your feet.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes out as he stares at you, eyes filled with need.“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers before pulling you into a kiss once again. You moan against his lips as he wraps his arms around your waist.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer to you as you kiss him eagerly. He runs his hands all over your body before stopping at your ass. He squeezes your ass cheeks, causing you to moan into the kiss. 

“Yeah? You like that?” he asks as he smirks against your lips.

“Mhm...” you hum, and he squeezes your ass once again, earning another moan from you.

He chuckles before pulling away completely. You look at him confused as he stands up in front of you, his hard cock straining against his pants.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you ask when you see him start to unbuckle his belt.

“Trust me,” he says as he pulls his belt out from his pants and throws it on the floor.“I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

You nod, hesitant at first but choosing to trust his words, and he proceeds to pull his pants down before pulling his boxers down with them. His hard cock springs free, and your eyes widen at the size of it. You never expected him to be this big.

You look back at him, and he smirks once again as he grabs your waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed once more. He takes his cock in one hand and gives it a few pumps as he stares at you before aligning himself at your entrance.

“Can I do this at least?” he asks, and you nod your head almost frantically. The anticipation is driving you crazy.

He positions his hard length on top of the wet spot on your panties that he caused and begins rubbing himself against your clothed core. He groans as he feels your wetness, and you let out a small whimper as you feel him.

“You’re so wet, Y/N,” he groans as he picks up the pace.“Is this all for me?”

“Yes, I need you.” you moan as you spread your legs wider and tilt your hips up to meet him.

The friction feels too good, and you gasp as you tighten your grip on his arms.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out, and he smirks at you as he quickens his pace.“Yes, just like that...”

He continues to rub himself against you, and you spread your legs wider to allow him better access.

He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss once again as he continues to grind his cock against you. You moan against his lips and pull him closer as you feel him grind his cock against your clit.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release, and you hold onto him tighter as you grind against him, matching his pace eagerly. He moans against your lips and kisses you deeper as he grinds against you faster.

You feel him groan against your lips as he pushes your panties aside and positions himself at your slit. You feel his cock slip between your folds, and you realize that he’s not wearing a condom.

You pull away from the kiss and look at him with a mixture of want and confusion in your eyes. He smirks above you as his gaze lingers, waiting.

“Wait, Beomgyu—” you gasp as he begins moving against you. The direct contact is driving you crazy, and you’re finding it hard to form a coherent thought.

“Relax, I won't put it in. I promise.” he whispers as he leans down to kiss and suck on your neck. You moan and throw your head back to allow him better access.“Just wanted to feel you better...”

He grinds his hips against you faster, and the feeling of his bare, hard cock rubbing against your throbbing pussy is too much. The friction against your clit is driving you insane, and you don’t think you can last much longer.

“Fuck, Beomgyu—I’m gonna—” you try to warn him, but it comes out as a jumbled mess.“I can’t—”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, as he grinds his hips harder against you. The feeling of him on top of you and the friction he’s causing is driving you closer and closer to the edge. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to an orgasm with just dry humping alone.

“Beomgyu!” you call out to him as you dig your nails into his arms.“Please—I—”

He smirks, locking eyes with you before he leans down to press his lips against yours. He kisses you deeply and passionately as you continue to grind against each other, chasing your releases.

You pull away to breathe, and you throw your head back as you feel yourself reaching your peak. He continues to grind against you, and you buck your hips up to meet him halfway. You grip his arms tighter as you feel your orgasm building up.

You let out a loud cry as you reach your peak, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. Beomgyu doesn’t stop grinding against you as he chases his own release. You ride out your orgasm, your pussy clenching around nothing.

You feel him stutter against you as he reaches his own release, his cum spurting out and painting your thighs white. You moan at the feeling and look down to see him covering you with his release. He continues grinding against you, riding out his release until he’s completely spent.

When he’s finished, he pulls away and lets go of your waist, allowing you to lean back on his bed. You both breathe heavily as you try to catch your breaths. You cover your face with your hands as you try to hide your embarrassment. You can’t believe what just happened.

You just dry humped your friend. Your roommate. The person that you tell all your problems to. And yet, you didn't want to admit that you needed more.

“Are you okay?” you hear Beomgyu’s voice, and you look up to see him looking at you with concern. You nod and try to smile.

“I’m fine,” you say and try to laugh it off. 

He laughs softly and sits on the bed beside you. He runs a hand through your hair gently, and you close your eyes to savor the moment. You didn’t expect him to be so gentle. You try to ignore the way something curls in your stomach afterwards.

“Don’t worry,” he says softly.“We’ll just keep this between us.”

You nod and look up at him. You’re about to say something when his voice suddenly drops.

“Next time, though,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.“I’m not going to hold back.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what he's implying.

“What do you mean?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably. He just chuckles and shrugs.

“I'm telling you that I’m going to fill your pussy up with my cum if you’d let me.”

The words send a jolt through you—your stomach flips, your breath hitches, and suddenly you're way too aware of how little space there is between you.

You grab the nearest pillow and hurl it at his smug face before he can notice the flush creeping up your neck. He dodges it easily, the pillow landing harmlessly on the floor.

“You wish,” you snap, already scrambling for your clothes, needing something to focus on that isn't the way his voice made your legs feel weak.

“This was a one-time thing, Beomgyu,” you add quickly, like saying it out loud might make it true.“It’s not happening again.”

He watches you in that maddeningly calm way of his, like he knows you’re lying before you even do. The smirk on his face is infuriating—warm and slow, like honey dripping from a secret you shouldn’t want to hear.

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” he replies easily. “Just saying, if one time ever starts to feel like it's not enough... you know where I sleep.”

Your heart stutters, your brain scrambling for a comeback that doesn’t sound like a confession. You roll your eyes instead—hard—and force yourself to ignore the heat spreading through your chest. It’s just his ego. His game. His way of teasing you.

You won’t fall for it again.

“Good night.” you mutter, refusing to look at him as you head to the door.

“Good night, Y/N.” he echoes behind you, softer this time. It sounded sincere.

You close the door gently behind you, but you don’t move. Not right away.

Your fingers hover over the doorknob. Your forehead rests against the wood. And for just a second, you let yourself replay it—the way he looked at you, touched you, told you he wanted you like it was everything to him. The way you melted under his touch, never crossing your boundaries, even though you secretly wanted him to.

You bite your lip, shake your head, and push off the door.

No.

Nuh-uh.

You’re not doing this again. Definitely not.

.....at least, that's what you told yourself.

But you would be lying if you said you weren't already thinking about what next time might feel like.

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

You slammed the apartment door a little harder than you meant to, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. Shoes kicked off, purse discarded, you didn’t bother with the usual routine. No makeup removal, no changing into pajamas, no mulling over texts. Just headed straight to Beomgyu’s room.

You don’t know if it’s because you’re angry, because you’re sad, or maybe because you’re feeling both at once, but you just don’t bother knocking anymore. You open the door and go straight for his bed, plopping yourself down dramatically, face-first into the pillow, letting out a sigh that sounded like it had been steeped in every bad date you’d ever had.

He doesn’t seem to mind your sudden presence; in fact, he doesn’t even acknowledge it. The click of buttons, the occasional shout from his game friends, and Beomgyu’s lazy laughter surrounded his room.

You stay there quietly, waiting for him to finish his game. This wasn't the first time he was going to hear about your dates that ended up really badly. 

You stared at his ceiling. It had a weird crack that looked like a lopsided cat. You didn’t know why you always noticed that. Maybe because this wasn’t the first time you’d ended up in his room after some kind of disaster.

After a few minutes, you hear him say his goodbyes before he takes his headphones off and finally acknowledges your presence.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go,” he said into his mic. “Emergency roommate depression. Yeah, again. Later.”

The click of his headset hitting the desk was immediately followed by the sound of him turning in his chair.

“So? How was the date?”

It’s a simple question, but you already know the answer, and so does he.

“Guess,” you mumble as you lay on your side and rest your head on one of your arms.

“I don’t even have to guess at this point.” he says, and even without looking at him, you can sense that he already knows the answer.

You sigh before sitting up and turning to face him.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to do anymore,” you say as you fiddle with your fingers.“It’s always the same thing. I meet a guy, I like him, we agree to go on a date, I get all dressed up, and then…”

“…And then?” he asks as he leans back in his gaming chair.

“….He doesn’t show up. Or he’s just an asshole.” you finish before sighing once again.

“Asshole, huh?” he asks, and you don’t miss the hint of anger in his voice.“What did he do?”

“Oh, you know? The usual. Acted like a complete dick to me the whole night,” you say, and even though you don’t look at him, you could sense him clenching his jaw.

“Y/N, I've probably said this a hundred times by now, but you deserve better.” he says, but before he can continue, you cut him off.

“I know, I know. I just don’t understand why I keep getting these shitty dates,” you say with a sigh as you run a hand through your hair.

“Maybe it’s because you keep agreeing to go on dates with anyone who asks,” he suggests, and you can’t help but glare at him.“You should be more careful about who you go on a date with.”

“Gee, thanks for the tip.” you say sarcastically, and you could only hear him sigh.

You were still in that damn dress—the one your friend swore would make you look “irresistibly hot” even if it showed a little too much for a first date. At the time, you let her talk you into it. Now, after hours of forced small talk and red flags wrapped in cologne, you just felt exposed.

You lay sprawled across Beomgyu’s bed, on your stomach, elbows planted firmly into the mattress, chin resting in your hands as you recounted every painful second of your disaster date.

“And then—then—he told me he doesn’t believe in therapy. Like, what the hell does that even mean?”

You huffed dramatically, too wrapped up in your rant to notice the way Beomgyu's eyes had slowly drifted south. It wasn’t until the room went quiet and you glanced up that you caught him—not zoning out, but straight up staring.

His eyes lingered shamelessly on the way your dress dipped when you leaned forward. You were so caught up in your little rant that you didn’t even notice him staring at your tits until you stopped talking and looked at him. 

“Beomgyu,” you call as you sit up and face him once again.“Were you even listening?”

“I was.” he replied a beat too late, voice smooth but unconvincing.

You narrowed your eyes.“I’m pouring my heart out, and you’re just—ogling me?”

“I swear I was listening, I'm sorry.” he says as he stands up and begins walking towards you.“But hey, I could make you feel better, if you’d like.” 

You rolled your eyes.“You wish.”

But he kept walking toward you, deliberate and slow, and the way he looked at you like you were something he wanted, like he wasn’t just teasing anymore—sent your heart into overdrive.

“Beomgyu, what are you—” you began, but the words caught in your throat as he stopped right in front of you.

“Come on,” he said, voice low and inviting.“Let me help you forget that shitty excuse of a date.”

You stared at him, mouth parting slightly. For a second, your brain stopped functioning.

This was Beomgyu. Your roommate. Your friend. Your confidant.

And yet, something in the way he was looking at you now made you wonder if you’d been blind this entire time.

“Uh, Beomgyu,” You stepped back with a nervous laugh, your heart doing weird things in your chest.“...What the fuck?”

He just shrugged, casual as ever. “You didn’t say no.”

You gaped at him.“Are you seriously trying to seduce me right now?”

“What do you think?” he said, deadpan. And annoyingly enough, it was working—because even as you glared at him, your thoughts were already spiraling. You had never really let yourself think of him like that before, but now?

Now, it was like someone had turned the lights on.

Tall, confident, annoyingly attractive—and that smirk. God, that smirk could ruin you.

You hesitated, war with yourself clear in your eyes. And then, recklessly, you gave in. As stupid as it sounds, you let him do what he wants.

On one condition, though. He’s not allowed to penetrate you.

“Okay,” you say finally, voice quiet but sure. “But I'm not letting you put your dick inside me. Like, no actual sex, no penetration.”

Beomgyu blinked once, then let out a soft, amused laugh.“So I can do anything else… just not that?”

“Pretty much.” you said, trying not to sound as breathless as you felt.

He tilted his head, giving you a slow, delicious smile.

“Deal.”  

And then he leaned in, one hand reaching to cradle your jaw as his lips finally found yours—warm, deliberate, and nothing like you expected.

You close your eyes and kiss him back, letting out a small moan when you feel his tongue push its way inside your mouth. You kiss him back eagerly, matching his movements as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grabs you by your waist and pulls you closer to him, making you sit up on the edge of the bed, and you do willingly. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you.

He runs his hands up and down your sides before stopping at your breasts. He cups them and begins squeezing them gently, and you moan into the kiss. You feel him smile against your lips as he continues to play with your tits over your dress.

He pulls away from the kiss and looks at you as he continues to grope your tits.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispers before leaning down and pressing his lips against your neck.“I’ve always wanted to do this to you.”

You let out a breathy moan as you feel him plant kisses all over your neck.

“Always?” you ask breathlessly, and you feel him nod against your neck.

“I always thought you were attractive,” he says as he pulls away and looks at you.“I just didn't have the balls to tell you, and I regret that.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything before?” you ask, and you feel him smirk against your skin.

“I didn’t think you’d reciprocate,” he whispers before biting your neck, making you moan in pleasure.

“That feels good,” you whisper as you run a hand through his hair.“More, please.”

He obeys immediately and begins sucking on your neck as he continues to play with your breasts over your dress. You let out a moan as you hold onto him tightly.

You feel him push you until you’re lying on his bed once again, and he doesn’t waste any time pulling the straps of your dress down, revealing your bare chest to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he stares at your tits hungrily.“Your tits are so nice.”

He leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth while his hand plays with the other one. You throw your head back in pleasure as you run a hand through his soft hair.

He continues to lavish attention on your tits, sucking, nibbling, and licking them, and you let out a moan each time his teeth graze over your nipple.

“Beomgyu!” you call out breathlessly as you pull him closer to your chest. 

He continues his assault on your tits as he grinds his erection against your leg, and you pull him even closer. You can feel his erection straining against his pants, and it makes you even wetter knowing that he’s hard for you.

“Please,” you moan as you grip his hair tightly.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks as he pulls away from sucking your tits to look at you.

“Please, Beomgyu,” you beg.“Take this off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you breathe out as you look at him pleadingly.“Please.”

“Okay,” he says before standing up and pulling you with him.

You stand in front of him as he undresses you. You look up at him as he slowly pulls the zipper of your dress down and pushes it down your body, letting it pool at your feet.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes out as he stares at you, eyes filled with need.“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers before pulling you into a kiss once again. You moan against his lips as he wraps his arms around your waist.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer to you as you kiss him eagerly. He runs his hands all over your body before stopping at your ass. He squeezes your ass cheeks, causing you to moan into the kiss. 

“Yeah? You like that?” he asks as he smirks against your lips.

“Mhm...” you hum, and he squeezes your ass once again, earning another moan from you.

He chuckles before pulling away completely. You look at him confused as he stands up in front of you, his hard cock straining against his pants.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you ask when you see him start to unbuckle his belt.

“Trust me,” he says as he pulls his belt out from his pants and throws it on the floor.“I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

You nod, hesitant at first but choosing to trust his words, and he proceeds to pull his pants down before pulling his boxers down with them. His hard cock springs free, and your eyes widen at the size of it. You never expected him to be this big.

You look back at him, and he smirks once again as he grabs your waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed once more. He takes his cock in one hand and gives it a few pumps as he stares at you before aligning himself at your entrance.

“Can I do this at least?” he asks, and you nod your head almost frantically. The anticipation is driving you crazy.

He positions his hard length on top of the wet spot on your panties that he caused and begins rubbing himself against your clothed core. He groans as he feels your wetness, and you let out a small whimper as you feel him.

“You’re so wet, Y/N,” he groans as he picks up the pace.“Is this all for me?”

“Yes, I need you.” you moan as you spread your legs wider and tilt your hips up to meet him.

The friction feels too good, and you gasp as you tighten your grip on his arms.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out, and he smirks at you as he quickens his pace.“Yes, just like that...”

He continues to rub himself against you, and you spread your legs wider to allow him better access.

He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss once again as he continues to grind his cock against you. You moan against his lips and pull him closer as you feel him grind his cock against your clit.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release, and you hold onto him tighter as you grind against him, matching his pace eagerly. He moans against your lips and kisses you deeper as he grinds against you faster.

You feel him groan against your lips as he pushes your panties aside and positions himself at your slit. You feel his cock slip between your folds, and you realize that he’s not wearing a condom.

You pull away from the kiss and look at him with a mixture of want and confusion in your eyes. He smirks above you as his gaze lingers, waiting.

“Wait, Beomgyu—” you gasp as he begins moving against you. The direct contact is driving you crazy, and you’re finding it hard to form a coherent thought.

“Relax, I won't put it in. I promise.” he whispers as he leans down to kiss and suck on your neck. You moan and throw your head back to allow him better access.“Just wanted to feel you better...”

He grinds his hips against you faster, and the feeling of his bare, hard cock rubbing against your throbbing pussy is too much. The friction against your clit is driving you insane, and you don’t think you can last much longer.

“Fuck, Beomgyu—I’m gonna—” you try to warn him, but it comes out as a jumbled mess.“I can’t—”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, as he grinds his hips harder against you. The feeling of him on top of you and the friction he’s causing is driving you closer and closer to the edge. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to an orgasm with just dry humping alone.

“Beomgyu!” you call out to him as you dig your nails into his arms.“Please—I—”

He smirks, locking eyes with you before he leans down to press his lips against yours. He kisses you deeply and passionately as you continue to grind against each other, chasing your releases.

You pull away to breathe, and you throw your head back as you feel yourself reaching your peak. He continues to grind against you, and you buck your hips up to meet him halfway. You grip his arms tighter as you feel your orgasm building up.

You let out a loud cry as you reach your peak, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. Beomgyu doesn’t stop grinding against you as he chases his own release. You ride out your orgasm, your pussy clenching around nothing.

You feel him stutter against you as he reaches his own release, his cum spurting out and painting your thighs white. You moan at the feeling and look down to see him covering you with his release. He continues grinding against you, riding out his release until he’s completely spent.

When he’s finished, he pulls away and lets go of your waist, allowing you to lean back on his bed. You both breathe heavily as you try to catch your breaths. You cover your face with your hands as you try to hide your embarrassment. You can’t believe what just happened.

You just dry humped your friend. Your roommate. The person that you tell all your problems to. And yet, you didn't want to admit that you needed more.

“Are you okay?” you hear Beomgyu’s voice, and you look up to see him looking at you with concern. You nod and try to smile.

“I’m fine,” you say and try to laugh it off. 

He laughs softly and sits on the bed beside you. He runs a hand through your hair gently, and you close your eyes to savor the moment. You didn’t expect him to be so gentle. You try to ignore the way something curls in your stomach afterwards.

“Don’t worry,” he says softly.“We’ll just keep this between us.”

You nod and look up at him. You’re about to say something when his voice suddenly drops.

“Next time, though,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.“I’m not going to hold back.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what he's implying.

“What do you mean?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably. He just chuckles and shrugs.

“I'm telling you that I’m going to fill your pussy up with my cum if you’d let me.”

The words send a jolt through you—your stomach flips, your breath hitches, and suddenly you're way too aware of how little space there is between you.

You grab the nearest pillow and hurl it at his smug face before he can notice the flush creeping up your neck. He dodges it easily, the pillow landing harmlessly on the floor.

“You wish,” you snap, already scrambling for your clothes, needing something to focus on that isn't the way his voice made your legs feel weak.

“This was a one-time thing, Beomgyu,” you add quickly, like saying it out loud might make it true.“It’s not happening again.”

He watches you in that maddeningly calm way of his, like he knows you’re lying before you even do. The smirk on his face is infuriating—warm and slow, like honey dripping from a secret you shouldn’t want to hear.

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” he replies easily. “Just saying, if one time ever starts to feel like it's not enough... you know where I sleep.”

Your heart stutters, your brain scrambling for a comeback that doesn’t sound like a confession. You roll your eyes instead—hard—and force yourself to ignore the heat spreading through your chest. It’s just his ego. His game. His way of teasing you.

You won’t fall for it again.

“Good night.” you mutter, refusing to look at him as you head to the door.

“Good night, Y/N.” he echoes behind you, softer this time. It sounded sincere.

You close the door gently behind you, but you don’t move. Not right away.

Your fingers hover over the doorknob. Your forehead rests against the wood. And for just a second, you let yourself replay it—the way he looked at you, touched you, told you he wanted you like it was everything to him. The way you melted under his touch, never crossing your boundaries, even though you secretly wanted him to.

You bite your lip, shake your head, and push off the door.

No.

Nuh-uh.

You’re not doing this again. Definitely not.

.....at least, that's what you told yourself.

But you would be lying if you said you weren't already thinking about what next time might feel like.

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

This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you reluctantly agreed to join your friends at the club. You needed a break from all the studying, but the loud music, flashing lights, and the tight crowd weren't exactly your idea of stress relief.

Still, you didn't want to disappoint them, especially when they were so eager to make it a great night for you.

At first, you tried to push through, but it wasn’t long before you felt completely suffocated by the chaos. After barely managing to escape the dance floor, thanks to your friends being too drunk to notice—you stepped outside, desperate for some fresh air.

Leaning against the wall on the street corner, you inhaled from your vape, savoring the cherry flavor, letting the cool night air calm you. But just as you were starting to relax, a voice broke the silence. You turned in surprise, spotting a guy nearby, leaning casually against the wall with a cigarette dangling from his fingers. His smoke mixed with the night air as he caught your gaze.

He was tall, with slightly messy black hair and sharp, almost fox-like features. He was dressed in a way that made your heart skip a beat—dangerously close to your type.

Your first thought?

Wow, he’s hot.

He seemed to notice your stare, offering a small, knowing smile.

You blink, still slightly dazed by his unexpected presence, but when he steps forward and offers a slight grin, you realize that maybe you're not as out of place as you thought.

He seems to notice the hesitation in your expression, and the corners of his lips twitch upward, as if he’s already caught on to something you haven’t quite figured out yet.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to creep you out,” he says, his voice soft but undeniably smooth. “The name's Yeonjun.”

You offer him a tentative smile, still catching your breath.“Oh, no, you're fine,” you say quickly, trying to brush off the awkwardness. “I’m y/n.”

Yeonjun nods, a little more relaxed now, his hands casually shoved in his jacket pockets. “Nice to meet you, y/n.” He gives you another grin, his eyes glinting with something playful. “So, you needed to get out of there, huh? You look like you're about to explode from the noise.”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head.“Yeah, pretty much. It's just... too much sometimes. I get that it’s supposed to be fun, but I can’t even hear my own thoughts in there.”

He chuckles, the sound easy and warm.

“I get that. It's like the music's so loud, it drowns out anything that matters.” His eyes flicker toward the club entrance before focusing back on you.

“So, what’s your story, y/n? I'm guessing you're the quiet type who’d rather study than be out here?”

You pause, then shrug. “More or less. I have exams coming up, and I thought maybe I could blow off some steam... but, uh, this isn't exactly what I had in mind.”

He nods knowingly. “Studying can be a pain. I get it.” He takes a deep drag from his cigarette and exhales slowly, watching you with an almost too-intent gaze.

“But sometimes, you just gotta be spontaneous, right? Life’s too short to keep your head buried in books all the time.”

Something about his words makes you feel a little lighter, a little more at ease. You take another hit from your vape, feeling the sweet cherry flavor coat your senses, and then glance back up at him, now genuinely curious.“So, you’re not a big fan of the club scene either, huh?”

Yeonjun tilts his head slightly, considering your question before shaking it with a small chuckle.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I dislike it,” he admits, shifting his weight against the wall. “I actually go every now and then, just for the vibes, I guess. It’s fun when you’re in the right mood.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, curiosity creeping into your expression.“Then why are you out here?”

His lips quirk into something that isn’t quite a smile, but not quite serious either. He exhales slowly before he speaks.

“Had a small argument with Beomgyu, but it's nothing serious, really.”

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, the tension creeping into your muscles before you can stop it.

Beomgyu...?

You weren’t sure why, but finding out that Yeonjun had come here with someone made something unsettled stir inside you.

Yeonjun, however, notices the shift in your expression almost instantly. His eyes glint with something amused as he leans in just a little, voice dropping in playful amusement.

“Oh, and Beomgyu is a guy, by the way. He starts running his mouth when he gets drunk, and I didn’t have it in me to take any more of it, so I came out here for some fresh air.”

Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard, but before you can even react, he’s already smirking.

“He’s my friend,” he continues, clearly enjoying your flustered expression.“and I'm used to it, we usually just end up talking again like it never happened.”

Your shoulders relax a little at his words, relief washing over you before you can even begin to question why you cared so much in the first place. You nod, brushing some hair behind your ear in an attempt to compose yourself.

“I see.” you mumble, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

Then, just when you think the moment has settled, Yeonjun grins—slow and teasing.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

You freeze for half a second, his words sinking in before the realization hits—and then, just like that, your face is burning.

“What?” you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head quickly. “I wasn’t—I mean, that’s not—"

Yeonjun just chuckles, tilting his head as he watches you struggle.

You stop talking before you embarrass yourself any further, quickly bringing your vape to your lips in an attempt to recover. The familiar taste coats your tongue as you exhale slowly, trying to ignore the way Yeonjun’s gaze lingers on you, amused and expectant.

Then, out of nowhere, he blurts out,

“How about you, y/n? Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

The question comes so casually, so effortlessly, that it completely catches you off guard. Mid-exhale, you inhale sharply in surprise, causing the smoke to hit the wrong way. You cough violently, your eyes widening as you try to catch your breath.

Yeonjun bursts into laughter, his head tilting back slightly.“Damn,” he chuckles, watching you struggle.“Didn’t mean to almost kill you with that one.”

You glare at him between coughs, finally managing to clear your throat.“Please warn me next time before you drop something like that." you mutter, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.

He just smirks, clearly enjoying himself. “So?”

You roll your eyes but decide to answer honestly anyway. “No, I don’t have one. Not really looking for one either—I have a lot of stuff that I need to focus on. School stuff, to be exact.”

Yeonjun hums in acknowledgment, something unreadable flickering across his expression.

Then, just as you think the conversation is shifting, he mutters under his breath,

“Good. Just making sure I wasn’t getting into any more fights tonight.”

That catches your attention. You tilt your head, furrowing your brows as you try to make sense of his words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yeonjun hesitates for a moment, then lets out a small, almost sheepish chuckle.

“Nothing. Just… wouldn’t want to piss off some jealous boyfriend by talking to you like this, that’s all.”

You blink, feeling his words settling in, and suddenly, your heart skips a beat. The way he says it, so casual yet laced with something deeper makes warmth creep up your neck. You weren’t sure if he was just teasing again or if there was something more behind it.

“Are you usually this straightforward?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Yeonjun grins, leaning in slightly that makes your breath hitch.“Only when it's worth taking the risk.”

His confidence is infectious, and despite your attempts to resist it, you grin.

“Can’t say I’ve ever had a conversation like this with a stranger outside a club,” you admit, enjoying the playful tension hanging between you.

Yeonjun’s eyes glimmer with amusement as he inches closer, the proximity making your pulse race.“Maybe this was the kind of company you needed tonight.”

You hold his gaze, feeling something shift in the air between you—something unspoken yet undeniable. The cold night air brushes against your skin, but the warmth pooling in your chest drowns it out.

Then, his gaze travels down, lingering on your lips. Your breath catches as you follow his gaze. His eyes flicker up and return to yours for a moment before he leans in, slow and deliberate, pausing just enough to gauge your reaction. You inhale sharply at the closeness, your eyes darting away from his in a feeble attempt to collect yourself. But you don’t step back nor push him away.

From the corner of your eye, you see the ghost of a smirk on his lips before he dips even closer, his cheek grazing yours. His voice drops to a hushed whisper, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You're beautiful, y/n,” he murmurs, his breath warm against the tip of your ear.“Can I kiss you?”

The question lingers between you, thick with anticipation. Your body betrays you before your mind can catch up, instinctively leaning into him. Your heart pounds against your ribs, your skin burning under the close proximity.

Maybe he's right, you tell yourself. After being cooped up in your room reading through notes and trying to memorize quadratic equations the whole weekend, maybe you just needed this kind of company.

You don't know what had gotten into you, maybe it was the few sips of alcohol from earlier finally getting into your system. You tilt your face slightly as a response, just enough to answer without words.

That was all Yeonjun needed.

His lips brush against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if waiting for any sign of hesitation, for you to push him away, but there isn't. Instead, you melt into the kiss, your hands instinctively finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady and rapid rhythm of his heartbeat, one that matches your own.

Yeonjun's hands slip around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. You can feel the tension in his body as he presses you against the cold brick wall of the club, his tall frame fitting perfectly against your curves. The contrast of his warmth and the cold from the night breeze against your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His lips are insistent, moving with a hunger that leaves you breathless. When his tongue brushes teasingly along your lower lip, you part your mouth without hesitation, granting him access. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of whiskey and the faint smell of the cigarette from earlier, something so undeniably his, something that makes you dizzy with want.

You gasp softly, the sensation of his tongue against yours sending a shockwave through your body. Your hands, which had been tentatively clutching his jacket, now slide up his chest slowly to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer still. The dimly lit alley feels like it's spinning around you, the music from inside the club fading into the background, replaced by the erratic rhythm of your racing heartbeat.

When you finally break away, breathless, your forehead rests against his as you whisper,“Yeonjun, I—I barely know you...” The words barely make it past your lips before a giggle escapes, the thrill of the moment outweighing any lingering doubt.

He lets out a quiet chuckle, his hands tightening at your waist before slipping lower, fingers pressing into the small of your back. His dark eyes search yours, a flicker of amusement and something deeper dancing in them.

“Isn't that what makes it exciting?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

You nod back at him with a sheepish smile. He kisses you again, more confidently this time, his hands on your lower back tighten, slightly pulling your closer to him.

This time, he kisses you with more certainty, more heat, his hands guiding you closer until there’s nothing left between you. You can feel your resolve slipping away, the desire for this connection with him overwhelming any reservations you might have had. Your fingers slowly tangle in his hair as you deepen the kiss, each second making it harder to think of anything beyond the feel of him—his taste, his warmth, the scent of his perfume clouding your senses, the way he holds you like he doesn’t want to let go.

Maybe it was just the lingering mental exhaustion or the fact that it had been a while since you’d kissed someone, especially like this—but Yeonjun was right. This was exactly what you needed. It had been so long since you felt this kind of rush, this dizzying surge of dopamine, that you never wanted the moment to end.

As the kiss lingers, Yeonjun pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze smoldering with a mix of desire and curiosity. His breath is warm against your lips as he murmurs,

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, his voice low and irresistible, hinting a quiet promise of something more.

Your lips part slightly, your heart pounding at the unspoken possibilities. You barely manage a nod before—

Oh, no.

The door to the club swings open with a loud creak, and suddenly, the alley is flooded with the pounding bass pouring out from the inside of the club and the unmistakable sounds of drunken laughter. Your friends stumble out, their faces flushed from alcohol, their voices slurred as they call your name.

You freeze, wide-eyed, the weight of reality crashing down on you.

Yeonjun exhales a soft chuckle, dropping his head slightly as if already anticipating your reaction. The intimate moment shatters, the heat between you dissipating as embarrassment creeps over your skin. You step back quickly, your fingers slipping from the back of his neck as you try to compose yourself.

There is absolutely no way you’re letting your friends catch you making out with a stranger outside the club.

Yeonjun watches you, something unreadable flickering across his face before he lets his hands fall away from your waist. But instead of letting you go completely, he reaches down, his fingers brushing against yours before lacing them together. The simple gesture sends another jolt through you, making your breath hitch.

“I-I should go,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with regret and hesitation.

Yeonjun nods, but his grip on your hand tightens for just a second, as if reluctant to let the moment end so easily.

“Let me get your number, at least,” he says, his tone softer now—less teasing, more sincere.

You finally meet his gaze, and for a brief moment, the noise of the world fades again. Then, with a quiet exhale, you pull out your phone, handing it to him. His fingers brush against yours as he takes it, quickly typing something before handing it back.

“Text me,” he says, a small smirk tugging at his lips, but there’s something genuine in his expression.“Or don’t. But I hope you do.”

“I will. Thanks for keeping me company tonight, Yeonjun.”

Your friends call your name again, their voices impatient, and you glance back at them before looking at Yeonjun one last time. With a reluctant smile, you squeeze his hand lightly before finally pulling away.

As you walk toward your friends, your pulse still racing from the encounter, you steal one final glance over your shoulder. Yeonjun is still there, leaning against the wall, watching you with that same unreadable expression.

And just before you disappear into the night, he lifts a hand in a lazy wave, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

You bite your lip, your heart still racing, as you smile back at him for a moment before turning your attention back to your friends. You walk alongside them as they chatter excitedly, their voices overlapping in a messy blur of drunken enthusiasm.

“Where the hell have you been?” Giselle asks, nudging your shoulder.“We’ve been looking for you all night!”

Julie laughs, slinging an arm around you.“Yeah! One second you were there, and then poof—gone. What were you even doing?”

You force a small smile, mumbling a vague response, but their words barely register. Their voices fade into the background, drowned out by the scene replaying over and over in your head—Yeonjun’s lips against yours, the way he whispered your name, the warmth of his fingers entwined with yours.

You shake your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but the ghost of his touch lingers on your skin.

With a quiet sigh, you follow your friends back into the club, the pounding bass greeting you once more. But even as the loud music swallows you whole, you know a part of you is still out there, standing in that alley with him.

Yup, this was going to be a long night.

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

It was your typical Saturday afternoon when you found yourself at Taehyun's place. The weather outside was gloomy, clouds hanging low, casting an overcast that matched the lazy mood you were in. You knocked on the door to his apartment, a soft thud as your knuckles met the wood.

A few moments later, the door opened, revealing your best friend, Taehyun, standing with a wide grin that revealed his dimples and perfect teeth.

“Hey, y/n, I'm glad you made it,” he greeted, stepping aside so you could enter. “So, what are we doing today?”

You shrugged, offering a playful smirk. “I don't know. Just whatever sounds fun, I guess.”

He motioned toward his living room, where a table sat in the center. On top of it rests a chessboard which made your heart skip a beat. You’d played countless games of chess with your siblings over the years, but to your surprise, you recall you haven't actually played chess with Taehyun before.

Something about the way your best friend looked at you today made you feel like this particular game might be different.

What did he come up with this time..... you thought to yourself.

“How about a chess match?” Taehyun casually suggests, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really, Taehyun? You know I'm not exactly a pro, right?”

Taehyun chuckled. “Well, I'm not either. Besides, it's not about winning or losing. It's about... having fun.”

You shrugged, intrigued. “Okay, sure. But if I get destroyed, I'm blaming you.”

He chuckles as he set the pieces up with practiced ease. You took your seat across from him, ready to dive into a familiar rhythm. But as he moved his first piece—a white pawn, his eyes twinkled as he leaned back.

“Actually,” Taehyun said, his voice had a lower tone, “I was thinking we could play with a twist.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity visible in your expression.“A twist?”

“Yeah,” he said, his lips curling into a smile. “For every time someone gets a check on the other player, the person who’s in check has to answer a question. No dodging. No lying. Honest answers only.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but you nodded in response. It was a bit unconventional, but it wasn’t like you had anything to hide, and you have always been able to talk to Taehyun about anything. Still, there was something in the air—something unspoken between you two. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it made your pulse quicken just a little. You knew it wasn't going to be easy, especially knowing how Taehyun could come up with something you'd least expect at any time.

“Deal. But don't expect me to go easy on you.” You said, picking up your knight and making your first move, dragging it across your row of pawns and placing it on the board.

The game began smoothly, both of you slipping into familiar roles. Taehyun's confidence was clear as always, despite it being your first time playing chess with him, it was clear he wasn't going to go easy on you. The sound of the pieces clicking into place was oddly comforting.

But the twist, the questions, were a different element altogether. You found yourself becoming more aware of Taehyun's every move, every glance. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you as he moved his pieces. You tried your best to keep calm, but you couldn't deny that it was slightly affecting your ability to focus.

By the time you’d captured his bishop, it was already becoming clear that this wouldn’t be a typical match. Your thoughts were scattered; you weren't focused solely on the game anymore.

When you made a bold move, putting him in check, you grinned. “Check,” you muttered softly, eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Alright, question time.”

Taehyun adjusted in his seat, grinning as if he was starting to have a glimpse of where this game was heading. “Ask away.”

You leaned back slightly, tapping your chin as you thought. “If you could change one thing about our friendship, what would it be?”

He blinked in surprise, not expecting such a serious question coming from you. He pauses for a minute before replying, “Wow, I wasn't expecting that kind of question.”

“Don't give me that, you added these rules in the first place. Honest answers only, remember?” you chuckled, seeing how he got flustered after your question. You were just starting to enjoy this game, after all.

You observed him as he contemplated, biting his lower lip as if he was trying to find the right words before answering. You couldn't hide the smile tugging from the corners of your lips as you figured from his hesitation that he was starting to regret adding these rules to what was supposed to be a simple chess game in the first place.

There was an immediate shift in his expression as he answers, however, catching you off guard.

“Nothing. I like how our friendship is right now. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As his words settled in, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment creep in before you could stop it. You had hoped—just maybe—that his answer would hint at something more, something beyond friendship. But instead, it was safe and neutral. You swallowed the feeling quickly, masking it with a chuckle as you leaned back slightly.

“Good answer,” you said, forcing an easygoing tone.

But your mind lingered on it longer than it should have, and it showed in your next move, as much as you didn't want for it to. Your fingers hesitated before settling on the wrong piece. Taehyun, always perceptive, caught the shift on your behavior immediately. He could have called you out on it, but he didn’t have to. Instead, he seized the opportunity on the board, swiftly capturing one of your pieces and cornering you into a check.

A small smirk played on his lips as he rested his chin on his hand. “Check,” he murmured, then tilted his head slightly.“My turn.”

His eyes held yours for a second too long, and then he asked, almost a little directly for your liking.

“What do you think are the chances that what we have could be something more than friendship?”

Your heart stuttered.

Your eyes widened and your breath was caught in your throat, heat rushing to your face as you scrambled to form a response. Your mind raced between a thousand possible answers, each one tangled with feelings you weren't sure you were ready to admit out loud.

“I—” You hesitated, looking anywhere but at him.

Taehyun’s gaze didn’t waver. “No lying, y/n.” he reminded you, his voice softer this time but firm. “Just honest answers, remember?”

One thing about Taehyun is that whatever game you play with him, he definitely plays it better. You are just now realizing that you shouldn't have provoked him first.

You cleared your throat, trying to pretend your mind wasn't a mess before answering, but clearly failing as you let the words slip out of your mouth. “Um, well... I don't know. That depends. You said you liked how it is right now, and I like the way things are too, so-”

“Y/N,” Taehyun is quick to snap you out of it and you blink in confusion, your eyes meeting his gaze.

“You do know that I've known you enough to tell when you're lying or not, right?”

You stared at him, heat creeping up your neck as you tried to keep your expression neutral. “I'm not lying,” you insisted, gripping the edge of the table just a little too tightly. “I really haven't thought about it that way, and even so, I just like it the way it is now.”

Taehyun didn't say anything right away, just watched you with that knowing look that made it impossible to hide anything from him. He had always been good at reading you—probably a bit too good. It was both infuriating and terrifying, to say the least.

A small smirk curled at the edge of his lips. “Alright then,” he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair.“Why don't we up the stakes a bit?”

You narrowed your eyes, suddenly wary. “....what do you mean?”

“For every check from here on out, instead of asking a question, the person in check takes off a piece of clothing.” Taehyun suggests, not breaking eye contact.

You felt your stomach flip at the idea.“Are you serious right now?”

“As serious as you were when you said you hadn't thought about us being more than friends,” he shot back, his tone deceptively casual.

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded.“That's ridiculous. Why would I even agree to that?”

“Because I know you'd never back down from a challenge,” he said simply, tilting his head slightly. “Unless, of course, you were lying earlier and you're actually worried about losing your focus.”

You bristled at that, fully aware that he was baiting you. And even worse, it was working.

Your pride warred with your common sense, but Taehyun just sat there, waiting, perfectly composed, perfectly unreadable. He wasn’t going to let this go, and you knew it.

You exhaled sharply, crossing your arms. You felt your heartbeat start going faster at the idea that you're going to play a much more dangerous game from now on.

“Fine. But don’t think for a second that I’m going easy on you.”

His smirk widened. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And with that, the game resumed. Only now, the stakes were much, much higher.

———————

You scanned your remaining pieces, picking up your rook and aimed for his king that was left open.

“Check.” you muttered hesitantly, obviously not prepared for what was about to happen next.

You barely registered the sound of Taehyun’s sigh as he unhooked his fingers from the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one swift motion. The moment the fabric slipped away, your brain short-circuited.

Oh no.

You knew he had been working out a lot lately. He always made a point to update you—sometimes with a casual text, sometimes with a mirror selfie from the gym that you pretended not to analyze too much. But seeing him like this, right in front of you, was entirely different. His broad shoulders, the sharp definition of his abs, the way his toned arms flexed slightly as he tossed his shirt to the side—everything about him suddenly felt... distracting.

Way too distracting.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral, but it was a losing battle. Your thoughts were loud, so loud, and no matter how hard you tried to focus back on the game, all you could think about was how ridiculously good he looked. You were having a hard time even trying to look at the board without getting distracted by his bare torso as he sat across from you.

“Your move,” Taehyun reminded you, his voice was smooth and amused.

You blinked, realizing you had been staring just a second too long. You quickly dropped your gaze to the board, but the pieces were all a blur. What were you even doing? What was your strategy? Did you even have one?

A quiet chuckle broke your already fragile focus. You glanced up, only to see Taehyun watching you with a knowing smirk, his chin resting lazily on his hand. He wasn’t saying anything, but his expression said enough.

He knew.

He knew the effect he had on you. He knew exactly what was going through your mind, and he was enjoying every second of it.

“Why? Is there something wrong?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

You scoffed, quickly reaching for a piece just to seem composed.“Nope. Just thinking.”

“Thinking,” he echoed, clearly amused. “Right. About your next move, or something else?”

You shot him a glare, but your face was already burning, and Taehyun—ever perceptive, definitely noticed. His smirk deepened, and he let out another soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“Y/N,” he mused, his voice low and teasing, “for someone who insists they haven’t thought about us being more than friends… you sure are an open book right now.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, your voice lacking any real bite as you forced yourself to look away from his ridiculously smug expression. You needed to focus. You needed to stop thinking about the fact that Taehyun was very much shirtless, very much toned, and very much aware of how flustered you were.

With a sharp inhale, you made your move, pushing a piece forward with more force than necessary.

Big mistake.

You realized it a second too late. The moment your fingers left the piece, you internally cursed yourself. But it was too late to take it back.

Taehyun hummed, clearly noticing your slip-up, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he made his move seamlessly, as if he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. Meanwhile, your mind was still a mess, thoughts tangled between the game and the way his bare shoulders flexed slightly with each motion.

Another move. Another mistake.

You clenched your jaw, trying desperately to regain control, but the damage was already done. With each exchange, you slipped further and further into a losing position. And then, just as you were scrambling to fix things, Taehyun’s fingers moved decisively, and your heart sank.

“Check.”

You stared at the board, dread pooling in your stomach.

Oh, fuck.

No, no, no.

You were trapped. Your pieces were cornered, and there was no easy way out of it. Slowly, you lifted your gaze, only to be met with Taehyun’s expectant grin. He leaned back slightly, arms resting lazily on the chair, clearly waiting.

And that was when the real horror sank in.

You immediately regretted not wearing more layers. A jacket. A hoodie. Maybe a coat or two. Anything that could have saved you from this exact moment.

Swallowing hard, you hesitantly reached for the hem of your shirt, fingers curling around the fabric. Your pulse pounded in your ears as hesitation gripped you.

Then, before you could move any further, Taehyun's voice cut through the charged silence, soft and serious.

“You know,” he said, his teasing edge completely gone, “if you're not comfortable with this, you can just surrender and we can stop right here. I'm fine with it, but you really don't have to push yourself.”

Taehyun's gaze held yours, steady and unreadable, and for a moment, the air between you shifted. His words fully settled in, his offer to stop the game still lingering in the air.

You looked down at the board, your eyes scanning the remaining pieces. There weren’t many left. The game was reaching its final stretch, and you were dangerously close to losing. The logical choice was to surrender, to let yourself off the hook before this got even more out of hand.

But something inside you refused.

Maybe it was your competitive streak. Maybe it was the way Taehyun had been teasing you all night, getting under your skin like he always did, always so composed, so sure of himself. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that some part of you wanted to prove to yourself that you could handle this. That being this close to him, playing this ridiculous game, didn’t affect you as much as it did.

Well, it did, but you weren’t ready to admit that yet.

You exhaled slowly, lifting your gaze to meet his.“I want to keep going.”

Taehyun studied you for a moment, his usual smirk replaced by something softer, something laced with concern. “Y/N… are you sure?”

“I mean it,” you insisted, forcing a small, almost defiant smile. “What? Are you worried I might actually beat you or something?”

He didn’t answer right away, but his lips twitched, as if amused by your bravado. Still, his eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation. And when he found none—or maybe just saw that you were too stubborn to admit it, he leaned back with a sigh.

“Alright then,” he said, though his voice was quieter now.“But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Your stomach twisted as you finally gripped the hem of your shirt, heart hammering in your chest. The moment you pulled your shirt over your head and placed it to the side, the cold air of the room hit your skin instantly, sending a shiver down your spine.

If I had known I would've ended up doing this, I should've worn better underwear... you thought to yourself as you felt your face heat up.

And that’s when it really sank in.

You were sitting across from your best friend while playing chess, the both of you half-naked, just the two of you, in his apartment. Alone.

You felt the weight of the situation settle over you, a mixture of embarrassment and something else entirely crawling up your spine. Every inch of you was hyper-aware of the fact that his gaze was on you now. You weren’t looking at him, you refused to, but you could feel it. A flicker of movement in the corner of your eye, a subtle shift in his posture. You could've sworn you caught the change in his expression the moment you took off your shirt.

Still, you forced yourself to focus, swallowing hard as you reached forward to make your next move. Your fingers trembled slightly, but you steadied them, determined not to let this affect your game any more than it already had.

Even as you sensed Taehyun’s lingering gaze towards you, you kept your eyes locked on the board, pretending like this was just another match. Like your heart wasn’t just about to jump out of your chest.

Despite the undeniable tension crackling between you, the game pressed on.

Each move was careful, calculated, yet neither of you could fully ignore the underlying awareness now lingering in the air. The playful teasing had faded into something else. Something heavier, something unspoken. And through it all, Taehyun remained unusually quiet.

It wasn’t until a few moves later, when the game was teetering dangerously close to its end, that he finally broke the silence.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat as he moved a piece forward.“What should the winner get as a prize?”

You blinked, realizing only now that he hadn’t muttered a single word since you had taken off your shirt.

Your fingers, which had been hovering over your next move, paused mid-air as you glanced up at him. He was doing his best to appear nonchalant, but there was a slight stiffness in his posture, a certain tightness in his jaw that made your pulse quicken.

Was he…. struggling too?

The realization made something stir in you, a quiet thrill creeping into your chest. You felt relieved and slightly amused at the realization that he had grown awfully silent compared to how he was earlier.

So it wasn’t just you.

Your lips curved slightly as you leaned back. “I don’t know,” you mused, tilting your head. “What do you think?”

Taehyun’s eyes flickered to yours before he offered a small shrug.“How about the loser gets the winner a gift or something?”

You hummed to yourself, pretending to think it over. But really, you were studying the board, judging the current situation of your pieces. It was neck and neck now, one wrong move from either of you would decide everything.

And suddenly, an idea struck you.

You glanced up at him, feeling a boldness rise within you, fueled by the tension, by the competition, by the fact that he wasn’t as unaffected as he had seemed.

“You know what would be more interesting?” you said, voice smooth, teasing. “The loser has to do anything the winner asks them to do. Anything. No matter how extreme. There's no limit.”

Taehyun stilled for a fraction of a second. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smirk—one that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Anything, huh?” he murmured, amusement lacing his tone.

You met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down.“Anything.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if measuring your resolve. Then, with a low chuckle, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

“Alright,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly. “But just remember, Y/N… you were the one who suggested it.”

Your heart pounded at his words. There's no turning back now.... you thought to yourself.

And with that, the final stretch of the game began.

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

The game had never felt more intense.

Each move was deliberate, each decision weighed carefully, but the tension between you both made it nearly impossible to think straight. The stakes were higher now, not just because of the game itself, but because of what came after. It was a battle of wits, of patience, of knowing exactly how to push each other’s limits, both in the game and outside of it. Neither of you wanted to lose.

You held your breath as Taehyun studied the board, his eyes scanning for an opening. His brows furrowed slightly in concentration, his fingers resting near a piece—but then, in an unexpected moment of miscalculation,

Taehyun made the wrong move.

It was subtle, something he normally wouldn’t have overlooked, but the second his fingers left the piece, you saw it. You saw the opening you needed. You didn't hesitate.

You moved your piece with confidence, a triumphant grin spreading across your lips.

“Checkmate.”

Taehyun blinked. He looked down at the board, lips parting slightly as he replayed the sequence in his mind, and the realization flashed across his face for just a second before he sighed, leaning back.

He had lost.

For a moment, you simply stared at the board, almost not believing it yourself. You had won. You had actually beaten Taehyun. All the built-up tension, all the stress of the game, came crashing down in the form of uncontrollable excitement. Maybe a little too much, but you couldn’t help it.

“Yes! I won!” You shot up from your seat, cheering and throwing your arms up in victory. “I actually won!”

Taehyun exhaled, shaking his head as he watched you practically bounce in place. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, lips twitching. “No need to rub it in.”

“Oh, but I do need to rub it in,” you teased with a grin, slightly leaning down towards him.“Losing in the very game you suggested? That’s kind of embarrassing, don’t you think?”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair and avoiding eye-contact with you. “I was careless. That last move… I shouldn’t have made that. But it was a close game.”

“But you did make that move,” you snickered, still basking in your victory. “And now you have to do whatever I ask. No matter how extreme. No limits, remember?”

Taehyun sighed, finally looking up at you with a small, amused shake of his head. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You won fair and square.”

Then, his expression shifted, growing more serious as he leaned forward.“So? What do you want me to do?”

You froze.

Oh, right. The prize.

You had been so focused on beating him, so determined to win, that you hadn’t actually thought about what you wanted.

Your excitement faded slightly as you sat back down, humming to yourself in thought. What did you want? You had thrown out the challenge so boldly, but now that the power was actually in your hands, you realized you had no idea what to do with it.

While you were still contemplating, Taehyun cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he muttered, voice quieter now. “While you decide, could you... put your shirt back on? The game's over, so....”

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the request. But then you caught it—the slight unsteadiness in his tone, the way his voice was slightly shaky, the way his jaw was just a little too tense.

And when you really looked at him, you could see it. The way his fingers curled against his knee, the way his eyes flickered anywhere but directly at you. He had been keeping himself composed this entire time, but now that the game was over, his self-restraint was starting to crumble.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized you weren't the only one struggling to keep composure. Taehyun’s usual confident facade had shown cracks tonight, and you decided to have a little fun with it. With a playful smirk tugging at your lips, you crossed your arms and refused his request outright.

“Why should I put my shirt back on?” you teased, your voice low and mischievous. “Were you too distracted by me that you couldn’t make your move properly or something? I could’ve sworn I caught you glancing at my chest earlier.”

For a moment, Taehyun’s eyes widened in mock indignation before he sighed, his defeat evident. He leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to smooth over the embarrassment.

“Believe it or not, Y/N,” he admitted, his tone softening with a trace of exasperation and honesty, “I'm a man too. I have no control of whatever physiological reaction my body has when a girl takes off her shirt in front of me.”

The confession hung in the air between you both, charged with unspoken meaning. His words, laced with vulnerability, made you feel a warmth that rivaled the playful teasing in your heart. You couldn’t help but let a genuine laugh escape, mingling amusement with the thrill of having the upper hand.

“Oh, really?” you replied, leaning in slightly as if daring him to say more.“So all those missed moves were because you were busy drooling?”

Taehyun’s cheeks flushed, and despite his best efforts to maintain composure, a reluctant smile tugged at his lips.“Maybe,” he grumbled good-naturedly.“But I can’t help it when you're… too distracting.”

In that moment, the tension shifted from the competitive spark of the game to something warmer and more intimate. The room, filled with the cool draft against your bare skin, suddenly felt charged with anticipation.

Taehyun’s honest admission had stirred something inside you, and suddenly the charged air of the room felt almost too intense to bear. In an effort to lighten the mood, you blurted out a terrible joke with a nervous chuckle, hoping to defuse the heat of the moment.

“Huh, I'm glad I won then,” you said with a lopsided grin. “I can't even imagine what you'd ask me to do for you if you ended up winning. What, were you going to ask me to kiss you or something?”

The words tumbled out almost too fast, and you chuckled awkwardly, immediately realizing the weight of your own words. For a heartbeat, silence reigned, punctuating the sudden vulnerability of the moment.

Before you could second-guess yourself, Taehyun’s expression shifted. The playful glimmer in his eyes was replaced by a resolute seriousness. Leaning forward with a calm intensity, he cut straight to the chase.

“Well, you're the winner. If you asked me to kiss you right now, I'll do it.”

The words hit you like a jolt. For an instant, your heart pounded, and you felt a flush of unexpected heat. You hadn’t meant for things to escalate so quickly, this was entirely unanticipated.

Your laughter wavered, replaced by a trembling silence. The playful banter had crossed a line, and suddenly every word felt amplified, every heartbeat echoing the gravity of the moment. You met his gaze, searching for a sign that maybe this was all just another game, but his eyes held nothing but earnest intent, leaving you breathless and uncertain of how to respond.

For a moment, you were unable to speak, unable to find the words to diffuse the tension or turn his request down. Your mind spun with every possibility, but your body responded without your conscious consent.

A warmth pooled in your core, and a tingling sensation spread across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You squirmed in place, shifting uncomfortably as the heat built in your lower abdomen. A whimper escaped from your lips before you could silence it, and with fumbling fingers, you discreetly rubbed the tops of your thighs together. The friction provided only partial relief as you tried to massage the pulsing ache away.

“I, um... Taehyun, I—” you stuttered, struggling to form coherent words. His gaze remained fixed on yours, a hint of gentle encouragement in the furrow of his brow. He was waiting for your response, and all the while, the pounding in your chest threatened to drown out your own thoughts.

You shook your head, desperate to regain control and steer the conversation back towards safer waters. Your words tumbled out in a nervous rush, contradicting the very actions your body had betrayed.

You bit down on your lower lip, hoping to contain the arousal that was building inside you. It was a futile effort; the ache between your thighs only intensified as you stole a glance at Taehyun. His gaze was fixed on yours as he waited for you to continue, his curious round eyes staring right at you seemed to only fuel your growing need.

You rubbed the tops of your thighs again, seeking any form of relief from the pulsing heat. But it was no use, and before you could stop yourself, your legs wobbled and gave way under their own strength. With an embarrassed squeak, you leaned into Taehyun, placing your hands on his shoulders for support that stopped yourself from completely falling to the floor.

Today was the first time you’d ever seen Taehyun’s shirtless. Even being this close to him and touching him like this felt strangely new and intimate to you, as if you were beginning to blur the lines that marked the boundaries of your friendship with him. But the thought fled from your mind as soon as Taehyun wrapped his right arm around your waist, providing balance and support with a gentle yet stable hold on the small of your back. Those months of him going back and forth to the gym turned out to be pretty useful in this moment, after all.

His touch sparked another jolt of electricity through your core, amplifying the pulsing ache between your thighs. A soft moan escaped from your lips, and your breathing grew heavy as you struggled to maintain your composure. You were a flushed mess, knowing Taehyun must have heard you considering how close you are to him at this moment.

You felt Taehyun’s gaze linger on you as the corner of his lips formed into a smirk.“Is this what you want?” he whispered, his voice raspy and low.“You want me to hold you like this?”

Taehyun’s warm breath tickled your ear as he spoke, the pulsing ache in your core growing stronger and harder to resist. His hold on your waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling you closer as he leaned in to speak again.

“Tell me, y/n. Is that what you want me to do?”

Your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts and desires. All the while, Taehyun held you in his embrace, his bare chest pressed against yours. The heady scent of his perfume wafted through the air, heightening your senses to an unbearable level of arousal.

You were embarrassed and desperate, clinging onto him for dear life. His body pressed against yours was more than you could handle, and every part of you wanted to surrender to the lustful urges that had taken over. It didn’t matter that Taehyun was your best friend—your best friend of four years, for goodness’ sake. In this moment, all that mattered was for only him to satisfy your desires, and no one else.

The tighter you clung onto Taehyun, the more you could feel his body pressed against yours. And the more you needed him, you needed his touch in places that you couldn’t reach on your own. Every movement seemed to press your thigh against the hard bulge of his own arousal, the heat of his crotch against your core through the fabric of his pants. The sensations combined into an overwhelming ache, and it was all you could do to hold on for dear life.

With a deep breath, you gathered up every ounce of courage to confess your desires, whispering into his ear.

“Fuck, I... need you,” you stammered, voice trembling with need. “I want you, Taehyun, please...”

The moment you uttered those words, Taehyun stiffened. There was a pause of hesitation, a moment of anticipation as you both waited for the inevitable. Then, with a playful chuckle and a teasing note in his tone, Taehyun whispered into your ear.

“Took you long enough.”

Before you could process what he’d just said, Taehyun swept you up into his arms. You squealed in surprise at the sudden shift, but it quickly turned into a gasp as he placed his fingers on your thighs, wrapping around your legs in an intimate embrace as he carries you. Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to burst forth in anticipation of what was to come.

With your arms wrapped tighter around Taehyun’s shoulders, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. It felt too embarrassing, too shameful to look at your best friend knowing that you were about to cross a line from which there was no turning back. You felt him chuckle as a response and yet, you couldn’t help but cling to him, needing the support and reassurance as he carried you to his bed and laid you down.

You closed your eyes in anticipation of the inevitable, waiting for Taehyun to climb on top and cover your body with his own. But instead of the heavy weight of his frame, you felt a featherlight touch on your knee. Your eyes snapped open, and your gaze met his, the corners of his lips forming into a smirk and his gaze is fixated on you. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks from the sight of him.

Taehyun knelt between your thighs, the fingers on your knee stroking up and down the length of your leg.“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice low and husky in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“I-” you stammered, unable to think straight. “I...please, Taehyun.”

You couldn’t seem to form any coherent words, so you let your eyes plead your case. They met his in a desperate search for an answer, but all you found was his unwavering gaze and a small smile on his lips.

“Do...please,” you whimpered helplessly, losing the battle of wills between you two.

“Please what?”

“Please...” you gasped again, struggling against the overwhelming waves of arousal that seemed to suffocate you.“I just need you,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Please, do anything you want with me—just...I want to cum, okay?”

You felt the flush rise to your cheeks at the words you’d just uttered. It was so unlike you, so desperate and needy. But with Taehyun looming above you like that, there was no way you could think straight.

Taehyun laughed then, a husky sound that was filled with amusement and desire. The fingers on your thigh stilled, and he looked down on you with a reassuring gaze.“Don’t worry,” he murmured.“I’ll make you cum as much as you want.”

His hand reached down to your shorts. Your breath was caught in your throat as he tugged the waistband, dragging both your shorts and your underwear down, exposing your inner thighs and core to his hungry gaze. But before you could even register the loss of clothing, Taehyun had grasped your thighs and pushed them open.

“Ah!” you squealed, arching your back from the sudden movement. Your hands flew up to cover yourself, but Taehyun soon had them pinned above your head.

“Be a good girl for me, y/n.” he chuckled as he leaned over you.“Let me get you ready first.”

You squirmed at his words, unable to stop the rising tide of desire within you. But there was only so little you could do as Taehyun started massaging your inner thighs, slowly inching his way up towards your core.

His fingers skimmed across your clit and over your pussy lips, the gentle pressure sending sparks of electricity across your nerves. Your hips arched into his touch with a will of their own, and you could feel the wetness of your arousal coating his fingertips with a growing slickness. He teased your clit with slow circles and tugs, driving the building heat between your legs to an unbearable peak.

“Taehyun,” you whined, unable to contain your pleas any longer.“Please—” your words ended in a broken moan, punctuated by the relentless teasing of his fingers on your clit.

Taehyun smiled, and his eyes never left yours as he leaned down to lick your wetness off his fingers. Your whole body flushed at the sight, and you couldn’t seem to look away from the intimate action of his tongue lapping up the evidence of your arousal.

“Please,” you begged again, losing all composure. “I need you inside me....”

Taehyun hummed, and with a teasing grin, he leaned in closer.“Okay,” he whispered into your ear.“I’m gonna give you exactly what you want. But I promise you, y/n, it’s gonna be so much better than you’ve imagined, so just trust me.”

And before you could say another word, Taehyun shifted his body, lowering himself between your thighs to leave you trembling with anticipation. His tongue flicked out, swiping over the length of your slit and over your clit. You gasped, bucking your hips in desperation as he settled his lips over your core, lapping and sucking on your arousal with a hunger that rivalled your own.

“Oh fuck—fuck! Taehyun...!!” you moaned, your mind reeling from the pleasure coursing through your body. The slick heat of Taehyun’s mouth covered you in waves of your blissful release, and you could only arch your back and succumb to the onslaught of pleasure that he had unleashed on you.

The first orgasm hit you suddenly, and all you could do was grab Taehyun’s hair with a wordless cry. Your pussy clenched with the force of your release, pulsing with an ache that threatened to tear you apart. But Taehyun didn’t let up, not even a bit. His tongue only seemed to grow more eager, his lips sealing tighter around your core as he sucked you dry with the fervour of a starving man.

The second orgasm hit you harder, and this time your voice rang out clear in the quiet of his bedroom. Your hands fell limp to the sides, too spent to do more than writhe under Taehyun’s relentless touch. And still, he wouldn’t let up. Even as your legs began to tremble with fatigue, even as your whole body trembled from the aftershocks of your second release, Taehyun’s fingers and mouth continued their ministrations.

It was more pleasure than you could take, more than your body could bear, and yet you were so desperate for his touch that you couldn’t bring yourself to say stop. All you could do was cling to the bed sheets, your mind a haze of lust and arousal as Taehyun devoured your wet pussy like it was his last meal.

Finally, it was Taehyun who drew back, his breathing heavy and his lips slick with your juices. He sat up, his gaze flicking over your body as if taking stock of what he’d accomplished. You watched him with hazy eyes, still struggling to regain your composure in the face of what you’d experienced.

Taehyun smirked then, satisfaction plain on his expression as he saw the state you were in. He reached up to wipe off his lips, and without a second thought, he pushed two fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean while looking straight into your eyes. A new wave of arousal washes over you at the sight and you could only let out a whimper at the expectations of what's about to come next.

Taehyun turned back to unbuckle his belt, and you watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he tugged down his pants. His hard cock sprang free, and you gasped at the sight before you. Taehyun was big, almost impossibly big, and the throbbing of his cock only served to make you realize why he’d had to prepare you like that first.

A soft laugh escaped Taehyun’s lips as he saw your reaction.“Didn’t expect that, huh?”

You shook your head, unable to voice a response as Taehyun climbed off the bed.

“I’m not exactly carrying any condoms around, I wasn't expecting for this to happen today-” he admitted, his chuckle low and his cheeks a tint of pink from embarrassment.“So...are you okay with this? Just trust me and I'll pull out, I promise-”

You nodded hastily at his words, too desperate for him to make the offer.“I trust you, Taehyun,” you said with a gasp of breath.“I trust you.”

Taehyun smiled at your response, and without a word, he leaned forward to kiss you. His lips were hot on yours, their touch sending shivers down your spine. You gasped into his mouth, and Taehyun took advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue in.

He kissed you with an intimacy that was more than enough to drive you wild, and even when he pulled back, he didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned down to remove your bra, his fingers gentle as they traced over your skin and unhooked the clasp at your back. A quiet moan escaped your lips as his fingers brushed over the skin of your back, but it only grew louder when he began massaging your breasts.

“Taehyun—” you whimpered, his name a broken plea on your lips.“Please—I’m—” you couldn’t finish, couldn’t get out the words to express just how desperate you were to have him inside of you. But Taehyun understood all the same.

He positioned himself between your legs again, the tip of his hard cock brushing against the slick of your entrance. You arched your back in anticipation, body trembling from the growing need within you.

“Ready?” Taehyun murmured against your ear, his breath hot on your skin.“Tell me if it hurts or if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nodded, unable to say anything else. Taehyun groaned in response, his body leaning over yours as he began to push himself in slowly. The stretch of his cock was more than enough to make you moan, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your lips.

“Shit, Y/N!” Taehyun cursed under his breath.“You’re so tight.” He leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle as he continued to push into your core. Your whimpers turned to cries of pleasure as he bottomed out, your whole body trembling from the overwhelming sensations that threatened to consume you.

“Fuck,” Taehyun breathed, his eyes fluttering close for a moment.“Ahh, fuck—” he gasped again, drawing back before pushing into you once more.

And that was it. The thrusts started slow and shallow, but soon grew to deeper and faster thrusts. Your nails dug into Taehyun’s back, and your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him in closer. The waves of pleasure washed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to drown you in their depths. And all you could do was hold on to Taehyun with everything you had, your lips sealing over his as he fucked you into the bed with everything he had.

Your breathing came in short, desperate gasps as his cock ravaged your wet pussy, your body writhing under him as his thrusts grew deeper and faster. Every movement of his sent sparks of electricity coursing over your skin, every thrust building your need to the breaking point until you could hold on no more. With a loud cry, your body tensed, and your pussy clenched down on Taehyun’s cock with enough force to make him cry out in response.

Taehyun slowed his thrusts to give you a moment’s respite, but even as you felt the aftershocks coursing through your core, he started moving again. His cock began to pound into you harder, deeper, and you couldn’t stop the cries that fell from your lips.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Taehyun groaned, his breaths growing heavy and desperate.

“Y/N, fuck, I—” his thrusts became shorter, and you knew he was close, so close to cumming too. “I can’t—I won’t last much longer. If you want me to pull out—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence. “No, Taehyun— I want to feel your cum,” you gasped, your voice broken with need.“I'm on the pill, so please—I want you to fill me up....”

A soft curse escaped Taehyun’s throat, and before you could say anything else, he started rutting into you like an animal. Your whimpers grew louder, your pussy clenching down on him with a force that threatened to suck the cum right out of him. His thrusts grew wilder, deeper, until he let out one final groan and shuddered above you. The warmth of his cum flooded your core, filling you up with his load deep inside you and your own release soon followed in its wake.

Taehyun collapsed on top of you, his weight crushing the breath from your lungs. You didn’t even care, couldn’t even process the overwhelming pleasure that still coursed through you like a raging tide. All you could manage was to cling to Taehyun’s broad shoulders, holding him close as the aftershocks ravaged your core with wave after wave of your release.

And when Taehyun finally rolled over, pulling out of you with a soft grunt of pleasure, you couldn’t do anything but fall limp against the bed.

“Fuck,” Taehyun muttered, his hand reaching up to card through your hair.“That was.....amazing.”

You chuckled into his chest, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through you as his softening cock slipped from your core.

“You’re...” Taehyun whispered, his fingers brushing over the strands of your hair. His touch was light, gentle, and his words sent shivers down your spine.“I always knew that you were gorgeous but I never knew you could be so beautiful like this. I never knew you could look so cute.”

You smiled at that, his words sending warmth to your chest. You reached up, wrapping your arms around Taehyun’s neck and pulling him into a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you, and without any prompting, he rolled over until you were lying on his chest with his arms still wrapped around you.

“Can I clean you up?” he offered after a moment, his voice soft and gentle.

You shook your head hastily at that, the idea of being parted from him suddenly becoming unbearable.“No,” you stammered, pulling him closer as if to prevent him from moving.“Just let me stay like this, please.”

Taehyun chuckled at your words, his lips pressing against your hairline.“As long as you want,” he murmured, holding you tighter still.

The room was silent for a long moment then, neither of you doing anything but basking in the warmth of the other’s embrace. But then, suddenly and without warning, you were reminded of the answer he’d given earlier.

“Nothing”, he’d said, his response echoing in your ears like a cold slap to the face.“I like how our friendship is now. I wouldn’t want to change a thing.”

He hadn’t even thought of anything beyond that, hadn’t even considered the possibility of more. It was just you, desperate and shameless. And now—

“Why?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, your body suddenly tensing in Taehyun’s arms. “Why did you say that earlier?” you asked again, turning your head to look up at him.

Taehyun blinked in response, confusion plain on his features.“Say what?”

“That you didn’t want anything to change in our friendship,” you replied, your heart suddenly heavy in your chest.“I thought you—” your voice trailed off, the words too shameful to say aloud.

Taehyun’s expression changed at that, softening into an understanding gaze.“Hey—” he began, his hands smoothing over your back.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, trying to push away from him. “I get it. I guess it was just me feeling this way this whole time.”

But Taehyun didn’t let you go. Instead, he pulled you back into his arms, holding you closer as if trying to keep you from running. “Hey,” he repeated, his lips brushing over your hair.“Look, y/n, I didn’t say that because I didn’t like the idea of being with you.”

You turned your head to him, your brow furrowed with doubt.“Then why did you?”

Taehyun sighed, his arms pulling you in tighter still. “Because I didn’t know how you felt at the time,” he replied.“And I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by forcing something you didn’t want.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing,

“And even if you did, I didn’t know if you’d want to stay like that in the future, or if...if it was just a one-time thing.” His voice was soft with his words, reassuring despite the uncertainty behind them.“But I’ve always liked you,” he continued.“I’ve always wanted to do this with you, if it was what you wanted.”

You were silent for a moment at that, your mind reeling with the words he’d just said. And then, finally, you smiled up at Taehyun, relief and happiness flooding your chest at the simple reassurance of his words.“I...” you began, the words threatening to spill from your lips.“I—” and then, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Oh my god, I can't believe I actually fucked my best friend,” you laughed out, your head falling on his chest.

Taehyun chuckled then, his whole body shaking with the movement.“Well, yeah,” he grinned, pulling you closer to his body. “You did.” He paused for a moment, his lips kissing over your forehead.

“We’ll deal with the consequences later. For now... let's stay Iike this for a little longer.” he trailed off, his hold on you only growing tighter.

“Okay,” you whispered, smiling to yourself as your words muffled against his chest. And as the warmth of Taehyun’s body wrapped around you, you couldn’t help but smile at the simple intimacy of the moment. It wasn’t just a game now. It was real. And despite all the unknowns that still lay ahead, there was one thing you were sure of: Taehyun would be there through it all. He would stay with you, no matter what. And that was enough to make you smile, enough to make your heart flutter with a newfound happiness.

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

“Y/N! You awake yet?” the familiar voice of your roommate echoes through the surrounding walls of your shared apartment.

“Ugh, what does he want now....” you groan to yourself while you sit up, stretching your arms. You were just starting to wake up from what seemed like an eternal slumber.

“Yeah, what is it?” you reply while yawning, trying to imply that you literally just woke up.

“Can you please buy some eggs and bread from the mart nearby? We ran out, and I don't feel like having just bacon for breakfast.” the voice from the other side of the door responds, lowering his voice and almost muttering towards the end. You still heard it, of course.

You get up from your bed, slipping a comfy t-shirt on and tying your hair in a ponytail as you headed out of your room.

You slightly chuckle at the sight of your roommate preparing breakfast while wearing an apron with purple hearts on it. You noticed that his hair was a bit messy indicating that it hasn't been long since he woke up too, and the way the cute apron looked slightly stretched against his bigger frame, knowing he was at least 6 ft tall, wearing an apron that was clearly not made for someone of his size was quite a sight to see first thing in the morning.

“Did you hear what I said?” Soobin, your roommate, says as he shoots his sharp gaze at you while you were observing him, noticing that you looked amused at his interesting fashion choice.

“I heard you, don't worry.” you shrug. Your smile fading after seeing his clearly unamused expression. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shakes his head as a response and gets back to preparing the ingredients for breakfast.

“Alright then, I'll be right back.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Soobin calmly says as you head back to your room to get changed.

As soon as you made it to your room, you quickly change into one of your favorite hoodies and baggy pants. You grab your phone after getting dressed and made your way out.

You were heading towards the local mart nearby where you and Soobin would often go to whenever you were missing a few items at home. You both would take turns doing housework, and it was Soobin's turn to make breakfast today so here you are, on shopping duty.

You scrolled through your phone with one hand while you stuffed the other in the pocket of your hoodie as you were walking towards the store. It was a 15 minute walk from your place, and you weren't going to get a lot of stuff, so you decided to walk. You knew you needed a bit of exercise to start your day, so this wasn't too bad.

Multiple notifications pop up at the top of the screen of your phone while you were mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. You didn't pay them much attention, until one particular notification from your best friend catches your eye.

(9+ unread messages from Hyuka)

Assuming it was something urgent, you immediately tapped on the notification popup as he isn't the type to send this much messages to you unless it's important, considering you just talked to him last night right before going to sleep. Your eyes immediately widen after reading the thread of messages he sent one after another.

Hyuka:

(hey y/n so i just woke up...)

(GUESS WHAT)

(WAIT NO DON'T ACTUALLY)

(THIS IS CRAZY???)

(YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THIS.)

(you're the first one i'm telling this to so you better keep this a secret for now, ok?)

(I actually can't believe this, wait-)

(So remember when I kept telling you I wanted to start a band?)

(you may not know it but I personally asked a few people at school)

(AND GUESS WHAT?????)

(you've probably guessed it by now ik)

(BUT I DID IT!)

(I FINALLY FOUND PEOPLE TO START A BAND WITH)

(I can't share the full details here yet but I'll def talk to you about it when we meet, kay?)

(See you soon, y/n! <3)

Your surprised expression soon turns into a smile of relief as you could almost feel your friend breaking into your phone and appearing in front of you if he could just to share the good news with you. You knew how long he was waiting for this moment and he was just so eager about wanting to start a band so he could finally showcase his love for music, and share it with the world.

Hyuka was the nickname you gave your best friend, Huening Kai. You have been friends with him for God knows how long, even to the point where his parents would even treat you like you're part of the family and your parents would do the same for him.

You had a feeling it wouldn't be too long before he could reach his dreams, you've always known that he was a genius when it came to music. He would write the most poetic lyrics, play multiple instruments, make the most beautiful melodies, heck, he even wrote you a song for your birthday that you really liked enough to make it your ringtone at some point.

Knowing that he has finally made the first step to reaching his dreams of being in a band, made you feel nothing but proud of him. You witnessed his growth throughout the years, and you knew that he was capable of so much that the world needs to hear the songs he can come up with and know how talented he is.

Before you knew it, you already arrived at the store. You replied to your friend's messages, congratulating him before placing your phone inside the pocket of your baggy pants. You grab a small cart before heading straight to the aisle where you can find what you're looking for, since you've already memorized the structure of the place after shopping here so often.

You grabbed a tray of eggs and placed it on your cart carefully. You add in a few snacks here and there, and soon enough you get to the bread section. You just chose the usual bread that you guys have at home, plopping it unto your cart. You continued to look around, picking up some of them to take a closer look.

After much thinking, you decided to get Soobin a different type of bread aside from the ones that he will be using for the usual breakfast toast. It's a known fact for you that Soobin LOVES bread, he would always bring some home for him to munch on and share with you whenever he could.

You took your time choosing which one to get for him, especially after remembering the frown on his face during your encounter with him this morning. You thought to yourself that the stress from being student council president and having to work part-time on top of that must be getting to him, so getting him a few snacks wouldn't hurt.

You recalled Soobin's favorite had a sweet red bean filling. You also wanted to grab one custard cream filled bread for yourself. Thankfully, those two flavors were right next to each other. You extended your arm to get the bread, since they were at the very top of the shelves, yet you couldn't reach the top, even after trying to get them on your tiptoes.

Feeling a bit embarrassed at your multiple attempts but still not succeeding, you looked around, trying to find some help as it was too late to just back out from getting them. Fortunately, you had found someone in the same aisle just a few steps away from you, who at first glance was definitely tall enough to reach the top of the shelf and get them for you.

Your eyes landed on a tall and lean male with long, dark brown hair resting just right above his shoulders. His bangs were slightly covering his eyes, as he slightly lowered his head to look at the product he was holding in his right hand. You immediately notice his unique sense of fashion as he was dressed in a somewhat eye-catching way.

There were layers of silver and black accessories dangling around his wrists, and his fingers were wrapped in rings. He was dressed in an oversized black tee with a huge print of what seemed to be a band logo in the front, and black ripped jeans held together by the gray belt that was wrapped around his waist. Your eyes dropped down to his leather boots that went just up around his calf, that complemented his overall fit.

Remembering the messages you read from your best friend earlier, you immediately thought to yourself how this man you just saw looks like he would be in a band just perfectly. You couldn't help but be intimidated by the vibe he gave off. You were late to realize it but you stood there, eyeing the stranger from head to toe, slowly admiring him from a distance.

“Never seen someone that's dressed like this before?” the stranger now in front of you says nonchalantly, not even sparing you a glance while still examining the product he has been holding which immediately puts you back to your senses.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks as you blink twice and immediately shake your head, as if you just snapped out of a spell. Realizing that the stranger noticed how you were basically staring him down, you quickly rushed to defend yourself, worried that he might have misunderstood you when you had no ill intentions.

“N-no, of course not! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare... I actually think you're dressed really well. I mean, your style fits you a lot-” you ended up blabbering about how you liked his style before you even realized it. Your mind soon puts you back in your place, reminding you why you even turned to his direction in the first place.

“Wait, no, that's not why I was looking at you-” you sigh, a huge wave of embarrassment taking over you. You were lost in your words when you hear the stranger laugh, finding it adorable how you were a stuttering mess after he caught you staring at him and merely asked you a question.

He finally turns to your way, making eye contact with you and you immediately noticed his sharp features, a hint of eyeliner resting under his eyes, and with a closer look, you noticed that he has an almost angelic face despite the way he presented himself. You weren't sure if it was possible to be more flustered than before, but you were definitely not prepared to have an encounter like this in your local mart, on a random Thursday morning.

“I'm just kidding, don't worry. You just needed help with getting these, right?” he says as he walks closer to your direction, looking at the top row of the shelf.

You wanted to ask how he knew, but you could only imagine how he saw your countless attempts to get them for yourself before finally caving in and ask for help.

“Yes, please. Thank you...” is all you managed to say, looking down while feeling another wave of embarrassment crash upon you once again. You're just glad he was aware of the reason you looked to his direction, at least.

He stood right behind you as he reaches out to get what you needed. He moves his arms just above your shoulder carefully, making sure to not accidentally hit you while he picks up the packs of bread with ease.

“Here you go.”

You turn around to face him as he hands them over to you. You slightly raise your head to look at his face so you could thank him properly, and he shoots you over a smile. You felt your face getting warm after your eyes met.

“Thank you so much, and I'm sorry again, I hope you didn't get the wrong idea... I didn't mean to offend you in any way-” you start off, trying your best to dismiss the fact that the small distance between you was making you really nervous.

“I wasn't offended or anything, don't worry. I was just joking earlier, so don't take it too seriously.” he replies as he gives you a reassuring smile. You smile back at him in relief.

There was a small moment of silence as you both just stood there in front of each other, not saying anything.

“My name's Beomgyu, by the way.” the stranger introduces himself first, breaking the awkward silence.

You felt relieved and glad that awkward moment didn't last any longer. You have been feeling a bit uneasy ever since your conversation started, after all.

“What's your name, pretty?” he adds, the corner of his lips forming a slight smirk, while making sure to meet your eyes.

Getting flustered was one thing, but Beomgyu just managed to make you nervous at every point of your interaction with him. You weren't sure if it was because of his intimidating style, his unreal, almost angelic features, his deep and raspy voice calling you "pretty", the small distance between the both of you or just the idea of him flirting with you was making your heart beat faster and louder by the second, but you swore he could've heard it if you didn't answer him right away.

“I'm y/n.” you answered, smiling back at him, trying to cover up how you were feeling all sorts of emotions deep down at that moment.“You have a nice name, Beomgyu.”

He chuckles at your response and frankly sad attempt before replying, “Thank you. I like your name too, y/n. Will I be seeing you around?”

“Well, I live nearby and I usually go here when I need to get something in a hurry.” you hesitantly reply, unsure if this was the answer he was looking for.

“Great. I guess I'll start going here often then.”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks once again from his response, and you immediately break eye contact. You attempt to laugh it off before responding.

“Sure, I might run into you again.” you mutter as you awkwardly laugh before looking away. You wouldn't even dare imagine the thought of seeing him here again.

You hear him chuckle for a bit before responding back. “I'll definitely say hi when I do. Well, I have to go now, I have practice in a few minutes. Guess I'll see you around then, y/n?”

Part of you was glad that you can finally get out of this situation, you have been feeling so overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions for a while now and you swear you felt yourself getting physically weak at some point, but a small part of you was also feeling sad that your encounter with Beomgyu had to end there, you just didn't want to admit it, of course.

“Yeah, see you around, Beomgyu. Thanks for your help, again.” you finally look back up at him and smile.

He smiles back and waves at you before turning to leave and walk away. You smiled back, waving your hands until you saw his silhouette disappear from your sight.

----------

“I'm back. Sorry to keep you waiting.” you opened the front door to your shared apartment with Soobin and soon found him lying down and facing sidewards in the small sofa that could barely fit him.

He sits up after he hears your voice and immediately reacts to the smell of his favorite bread. There were times you'd question if he was a bunny in his past life from how he acted around his favorite food.

“Did you get the red bean filled bread? Or am I just smelling things?” he looks up at you, expecting your response. You haven't seen him this alive ever since you woke up today.

You smiled while nodding as a response. He immediately gets up from the sofa and heads to your direction, rummaging through the bags of food you just brought from the store and he has a wide smile on his face after seeing that you got him his favorite bread.

“Thank you so much, y/n! You have no idea how much I needed this. Sorry for acting weird earlier, I wasn't having the best day.” he mutters while fiddling with the bread, feeling apologetic from how he acted earlier.

“That's okay. I got your back, Soobs.” you assured him as you gently tap his shoulder, letting out a small laugh as you noticed him cringe at the nickname.

You help Soobin move the stuff you brought to the fridge and decided to help out with preparing breakfast. He swiftly whipped up two servings of French toast with some bacon at the side which the both of you finished in an instant. Although your roommate wasn't the best cook, he definitely wasn't bad at cooking either. You're just glad you won't have to worry about cooking and washing the dishes for today, at least.

Soobin gets up and brings the used plates and kitchenware over to the sink, and starts washing them.

You help out in cleaning the table while he does the dishes. Teamwork makes the dream work, indeed.

“Hey, Soobin?” you start the conversation while you were both cleaning up, just to avoid any awkward silence, or at least that's what you convinced yourself. It was totally not because you couldn't stop thinking about your short encounter with Beomgyu at the store earlier.

Soobin responds with a small hum while he stays focused on washing dishes.

You hesitated for a bit. You started to question yourself whether you should bring up what happened at the store or not, but you decided to go for it anyway. It's your roommate of all people, surely he won't make a fuss about it, right?

“I'm just asking this because I'm curious, but does the name 'Beomgyu' ring a bell?” you continued, feeling a bit cautious of his response.

You heard him hum for a moment as if he was contemplating something before he finally answered.

“Beomgyu...? I would definitely remember someone with that name, but I don't think I've heard that name before. Do they go to our school?” You weren't sure why, but you felt somewhat relieved after hearing Soobin's answer.

Soobin was right. Beomgyu isn't the type of person you would forget so easily, so Soobin would surely remember Beomgyu right away when you said his name, if they actually have met before, you thought to yourself.

“No, I don't think he goes to our school. It was my first time seeing him at the store earlier. I just thought you might know who he is, since you know a lot of people at school and you visit the store more often than I do.” you explain after realizing it might have been a weird question to ask all of a sudden.

“Well, why do you ask? Does it matter if I knew who this "Beomgyu" is?” he coos, trying to analyze the situation.

Now realizing that it might have been a bad move to ask Soobin about it, you immediately stop wiping the table to look at him. You just noticed that he was done washing the dishes and he was now facing you while leaning back at the counter where the sink was.

“N-no, it's nothing. I was just curious.” you mutter, praying he wouldn't ask you any further but knowing Soobin, you knew the conversation wasn't gonna end there.

“Y/N, don't tell me....” he pauses for a bit and raises an eyebrow. “Do you li-”

(Now Playing: Ariana Grande - Daydreamin')

Before you could stop Soobin from completing his next sentence, the ringtone playing from his phone echoes through the kitchen and you let out a sigh of relief. You're just glad you didn't even have to try and end the conversation. Whoever it was, they had called just in time.

Soobin also sighs, slightly ticked off that he wasn't even able to finish his question especially after he was now curious who this Beomgyu was that you brought up out of nowhere.

He slightly taps his hands at the sides of his pants, making sure his hands were dry before picking up the phone. He opens his phone and you noticed how his eyes widened and his expression changed immediately after seeing the screen light up.

“Oh, right- I HAVE TO MEET YEONJUN HYUNG! SHIT!-” is all he managed to say while he panics for a bit before finally deciding to answer the call.

“Hyung! Sorry, have you been waiting long? I'll be right there soon!” your eyes followed Soobin as he dashed to his room, making you laugh at his antics. You weren't surprised as this wasn't the first time Soobin would act like this, especially after knowing it was from Yeonjun.

You haven't met Yeonjun yet, but you've only heard so much about him from Soobin. From what Soobin had told you, you knew that Yeonjun was a model, he was older than Soobin, and that he's someone that Soobin "owes a lot" to. That kind of explains why Soobin acts like a switch had just been flipped and he's on alert mode when it comes to Yeonjun.

You finish tidying up the table and head to the sink to wash your hands before heading back to your room and changing back into comfortable clothes.

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

“Here's your large iced vanilla latte, enjoy!” Soobin smiles, flashing his dimples as he gently places the drink to the small tray in front of him and hands it over to the customer. The girl standing in front of Soobin smiles back at him before taking the tray over to her table with her friends. You noticed her friends giggling and cheering for her while she makes her way back to their table. You let out a small laugh, thinking it was adorable that there are some customers who seem to like coming to the cafe just to see your roommate.

“The boss should really give you a raise. I think this is the third time I've seen that group this week.” You slightly nudged Soobin's shoulder and whispered, just enough for him to hear. He chuckles and shakes his head while feeling embarrassed, you notice his cheeks were flushed with a tint of red.

This scenario was all too familiar to you, and it wasn't a surprise that you've had multiple customers who visited the cafe for the first time, soon turned into regulars because of Soobin. As much as you didn't want to admit it, Soobin was tall and good-looking. He had the sweetest voice whenever he would talk to the customers, he had the most captivating smile that emphasized his dimples, all of which he was fully aware that he would use those to his advantage, and it worked like a charm every time.

You respected how Soobin was dedicated to his job despite being just as busy with his countless responsibilities as the Student Council President. You may have a hard time getting used to seeing this side of him, especially since he's your roommate, but you couldn't deny that he was certainly getting the job done.

You both turn towards the entrance of the cafe as the ringing of the tiny chimes hanging above the door catches your attention. Your attention is soon diverted to the tall figure entering the premises, along with two people following behind him.

“Y/N! Soobin hyung!” a familiar voice echoes throughout the cafe.

“Kai is just as cheerful as ever, huh...” Soobin whispers back, just enough for you to hear.

You greet the tall blonde with a smile, you felt your nerves immediately loosen up after seeing your best friend, Huening Kai. He was always such a comforting presence to you. It felt like the stress you've had from school and the hours of hard work you have been doing up til' now disappeared in an instant, after seeing him come to visit you.

You noticed an unfamiliar face scoot beside Hyuka, to get a better view of the menu displayed on the screen behind you. He was slightly smaller than Hyuka, he had black hair and he had boba-like round eyes that were looking eagerly at the screen, trying to decide what to order.

“I'll have an iced americano, please.” he said, turning to you with a smile. You immediately noticed how his features turned almost cat-like after you saw him smile. You smile back at him and nod, tapping on the small screen in front of you to take his order.

“How about you, Beomgyu hyung?”

You looked up at him again, thinking you might have heard him wrong.

Beomgyu? There's no way it could be the Beomgyu you thought it was, right?

You followed his gaze as he turned to the person behind him, and your eyes widened after seeing the third person standing behind the two men in front of you.

Talk about luck.

It was, indeed, the Beomgyu that you had in mind. The person you met at the store, wearing the exact same outfit you saw him in earlier. Except this time, you noticed his hair was a bit messier, his eyeliner was slightly smudged, and he wore a guitar case like a backpack, the straps looped over his shoulders and the case resting snugly against his back.

You thought to yourself that at first glance, Beomgyu does seem like the type to play the guitar, yet you couldn't help but be surprised after seeing him anyway.

“I'll just have what you're having, thanks.” he mutters while he scrolls through his phone, not even sparing the three of you a glance.

Did he not see you? Part of you had hoped for it, even though you knew that he would eventually, especially since Hyuka will be introducing you to the both of them in a bit.

You weren't too sure how to approach him now, after your first encounter at the store earlier. Should you just wait for him to talk to you first? Should you pretend to not know him? You felt the nervousness that you almost forgot about take over you again, and countless thoughts started to fill your mind.

“I feel like getting that too, so you can make that three iced americanos, y/n. Oh, and let me also get two chocolate chip cookies with that, please.” Hyuka completes their order with a smile, and you can sense that he was excited to tell you all about his new friends and the progress of their band.

You finish taking down their order and you repeat it back to them to confirm if you got everything correct before sending it over to Soobin. Hyuka gives you an approving nod and makes sure to thank you first before they head over to their table.

You head over to Soobin and you help out with preparing their order. You plated the cookies while he was in charge of the drinks.

“I don't think I've seen those guys before, are they Kai's friends from school?” Soobin asks while he fills the three empty cups with ice.

“I don't know, it's my first time seeing Hyuka with them either.” You shrug. Hyuka would usually visit the cafe by himself, and this was the first time he brought someone else that isn't his family. You glanced at their table as you continued to chat with Soobin but you immediately tensed up when you noticed that Beomgyu was looking at your direction.

Feeling embarrassed at the sudden eye contact, you immediately turned your head to Soobin, trying to hide your face that started heating up the moment you and Beomgyu's eyes met. You let out a nervous laugh as you carried on with your conversation with Soobin, hoping that Beomgyu didn't notice.

Soobin wraps up the order and nudged you to take a break in the meantime so you could catch up with Hyuka. You were about to refuse and tell him that you could do that after your shift ends in a few hours since Hyuka usually waits for you anyway, but Soobin insisted and he left to greet the next customer before you could say another word of protest.

Thankfully, it wasn't a busy day, and Soobin assured you that he could manage the work by himself. You promised him you would go back the moment it gets busy however, and he agreed. You would also cover for Soobin during the few times that he had to leave for something urgent in the middle of his shift, so Soobin would gladly cover for you too if the situation calls for it.

You took one glance at Hyuka's table and sighed. You were excited to finally catch up with your friend, but at the same time you were feeling nervous thinking about how it would go, meeting Beomgyu again like this.

You brought the tray containing the drinks and cookies they ordered and carefully placed it on their table. Hyuka gently taps on the empty seat beside him, signaling for you to come sit with them. You smiled at him before taking a seat. He shoots back a really cheeky smile at you in return.

Beomgyu clears his throat loudly, almost as if he intended to interrupt your little moment with Hyuka.

This catches your attention and you all turn to face him. You were surprised to see such a dark expression on Beomgyu's face, it looked as if he didn't want to be there.

“Alright guys, this is my best friend, Y/N. We've been friends for like, forever, that we're basically family now. Right, Y/N?”, Hyuka pauses for a moment and looks at you expectantly, and you felt a bit embarrassed, but you nod as a response, not wanting to let him down.

He smiles after seeing your reaction and continues, “And these guys, are my bandmates. The pretty one with the long hair right here is Beomgyu hyung! He's going to be our guitarist. I've only seen videos of him play before and I thought that he was really good, but after practicing with him and seeing it for myself earlier, I was even more impressed!”

You glance at Beomgyu's reaction and you noticed how he was basically turning red from the compliments and how enthusiastic Hyuka was about introducing him, that it made you giggle and he looked away while resting his chin on his palm as an attempt to cover his flushed face, feeling even more embarrassed. You were now especially curious to see how Beomgyu would play the guitar, especially after seeing your best friend shower him with praise.

“The cute one over here is Taehyun!” Hyuka adds and you look at the young man sitting across you.

“Please don't call me cute.” he looks at Hyuka straight in the eye with a serious expression which made the three of you laugh because doing that somehow just made him look even cuter.

“Alright then, my bad! The HANDSOME one, is Taehyun.” Hyuka retorts, still laughing

from Taehyun's response and emphasizing on the word handsome. “He is our vocalist! He's an amazing singer and he has exactly the perfect voice I had in mind for the songs I've made! Oh yeah, and he's the same age as us, but he's older than me for a few months so that technically makes him my hyung. But he insists that I don't call him hyung, so I just call him Taehyun.”

You and Taehyun exchanged smiles after Hyuka formally introduced you to them. You glanced at Beomgyu and your eyes met, which made you feel flustered. You still couldn't get used to Beomgyu meeting your eyes without feeling nervous.

You could make eye contact with Taehyun just fine, but not with Beomgyu for some reason, was it because you guys already met before Hyuka introduced them to you?

“And I'll be playing the drums.” Hyuka blurts out and you immediately turn to him with a surprised look on your face which makes him laugh. “What's with that look, y/n?”

“Nothing... I just thought you would be on the keyboard or you would play the guitar, too. I just never expected you to be the one to play the drums, really.” you muttered. You knew that Hyuka could play the drums, but it wasn't the instrument he played often so it was a surprise to you when he revealed that he was going to be their drummer.

He laughs before explaining that they needed a drummer, and he's the only one that could do it so he just went for it. He was just happy that he's finally formed a band, officially.

“How about you, y/n?” Beomgyu asks, and everyone's attention was on you now. “Do you play any instruments?”

“Well...” you were caught off guard by the question, and you weren't expecting Beomgyu to ask you that. You hesitate a bit before answering, “I know how to play the guitar a bit... Hyu- I mean, Kai, was the one who taught me how.”

Kai looks back at Beomgyu with an approving nod, looking quite proud of himself. Beomgyu on the other hand, raises an eyebrow, looking like he isn't satisfied with your answer.

“Really? We should play together sometime. I can teach you how, too.” he replied, raising the corner of his lips and forming a smirk.

There it goes again. You were starting to get used to the feeling of being flustered, nervous, and embarrassed whenever you spoke with Beomgyu. You immediately avoided eye contact after seeing how he responded.

“That's right, Beomgyu hyung is really good and I think he would be a great teacher. Plus, you're a fast learner so I trust you, y/n!” Hyuka adds, genuinely supportive of the idea. You saw Taehyun nod, agreeing with Hyuka. You laughed nervously, not even wanting to entertain the thought of how that would go, but you just couldn't say no to that now that everyone's basically on it. It won't turn out so badly as you're imagining it, right?

“Sure, maybe when we have some free time, I guess...” you muttered, in hopes of dismissing the topic there.

“Your number.” Beomgyu places his phone on the table, right in front of you. You look down at his phone, then back at him with a confused expression. “So I could text you when I'm free, and I can teach you how to play.”

You're just now realizing that there's no turning back, and that he was actually dead serious about this. You glance at Kai and Taehyun, trying to find some sort of way out from this, but to your surprise, you see Taehyun with a smile, giving you a thumbs up and Hyuka was covering his face with his two hands as if he was blushing, eyes wide, nodding his head furiously, urging you to go type in your number already.

Lastly, you look over to Beomgyu and he just shoots you a mischievous grin. Was this really a good idea?

You were hesitant at first, but you didn't want to make it seem like you were being forced to do it. A part of you was actually looking forward to it, you were nervous yet excited to imagine meeting up with Beomgyu, just the two of you, so he could teach you and you could play together.

You were starting to feel blood rush to your cheeks at the thought, so you immediately look down to face the screen of his phone and type down your name and number, saving your information in his contacts and quickly handing him back his phone. You were hoping they didn't notice how flushed your cheeks were.

“Y/N!” you hear Soobin's voice call you from a distance, and you turn to his direction, seeing a slight panic in his expression. You didn't realize how the cafe was starting to get full, and you took this as your chance.

“Oh no, its starting to get busier. I'm sorry, I need to get back to work, Soobin needs my help. Let's catch up next time. I'll message you later, Hyuka. See you guys around then!” you said, getting up from your chair in a rush and patting Hyuka's head before quickly heading back to help out Soobin with the workload.

Hyuka starts pouting after you pat his head, him and Taehyun starts waving at your back as you rushed to get back to work. You never noticed since you left in a hurry, but Beomgyu's expression immediately darkens after you left the table. Soobin notices this however, and catches the younger boy's glare at him, as if he did something wrong.

Soon after you arrive at the counter to help out, Soobin immediately thanks you and divides the workload.

“Was this a bad time to call you back? Sorry, it was starting to get hectic.” he whispers, feeling bad and worried at the same time, and he swore could still feel Beomgyu glaring at him then.

“No, no, it was the perfect timing. You saved me there, thanks.” you whisper back at him in relief, which makes him more confused, but he doesn't question it and the both of you continue working.

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

A few days have passed since Hyuka introduced Beomgyu and Taehyun to you at the cafe. Since then, you and Beomgyu have been messaging each other. He would also visit the cafe along with Taehyun and Hyuka from time to time, and you have started to feel more comfortable interacting with him, it no longer felt like you were walking on thin ice whenever you talked.

It was safe to say that you were slowly becoming good friends with Hyuka's bandmates, and Soobin also had the chance to meet them at some point. After spending some time with them for few days, you had soon found out that Hyuka and Taehyun were classmates, and it was Taehyun who asked Beomgyu, who is his roommate, to join the both of them to form a band.

Before you knew it, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt as you stood in front of the door to Beomgyu and Taehyun's apartment. You and Beomgyu both agreed that you would be meeting him today for guitar practice, since you both didn't have school and you didn't have to work during the weekends.

You open the front camera to your phone so you could fix your hair and check your outfit one more time. You didn't want to show up wearing something too extra or too simple, so you asked Soobin for help to choose an outfit. You both ultimately decided on a cropped tee, high waisted jeans, and a pair of converse high tops that matched your outfit. You also wore light makeup to complete your look.

You have been standing in the empty hallway of their apartment for a at least 10 minutes, trying to make yourself look presentable, adjusting the length of you shirt, fixing your hair, and doing a quick retouch to your makeup. You were just making sure that you looked decent, it's not like you were trying to impress anyone, right?

After a lot of hesitation, you took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell and looked around while waiting for the door to open. You felt like your heart almost dropped to the floor when the door opens after a few seconds.

You look up and see a half-awake Beomgyu running his left hand through his hair, while his right hand holds the door open. He was dressed rather comfortably, it was very different to the usual dark outfits he wore outside whenever you met him in the cafe with Hyuka and Taehyun. Beomgyu wore a plain white t-shirt under an oversized black cardigan, and a pair of black pants. You were used to seeing him in his usual dark and "emo" fashion, but seeing a different side to Beomgyu felt new, but you liked it.

He greeted you with a smile before you letting you in and you followed him to his room. You looked around while you nervously stepped inside his room as he closes the door behind you. He had a bunch of band posters surrounding the walls of his room and you noticed he had a shelf stocked with albums of his favorite artists. You saw that he had 3 guitars displayed at the corner of his room, next to a desk where he had a computer setup. You couldn't describe it very well, but Beomgyu's room felt very him.

“You can sit on my bed, I'll go get the guitar.” he says as he goes to pick up the guitar.

You nodded and sat at the edge of his bed carefully. Your eyes followed Beomgyu's back as he prepares the guitar that he will be using to teach you. You started to tense up, remembering the familiar feeling that you've had during your first encounter with him at the store, your heart was beating louder and faster, and you were starting to feel nervous again.

You weren't expecting to get nervous especially after you thought you were finally comfortable being around with him, but the idea of you and Beomgyu being alone in his room made you feel more nervous than ever.

You've been to Soobin's room before to get a few things, and you've always hung out with Hyuka in his room countless times, but why did this feel different? Why were you so nervous about being alone with Beomgyu in his room when you were just going to get guitar lessons with him? The more you tried to think rationally and calm yourself down, your mind wasn't helping you.

The edge of the bed dips down at Beomgyu's weight as he sits down cross-legged beside you, carrying the guitar and repositioning it just above his thigh.

“You okay? You look so nervous.” he says with a laugh as he looks down while tuning the strings of the guitar.

How did he know? Was it too obvious? A hundred questions filled your mind. You were worried you might be overanalyzing everything.

“Y-yeah, I'm okay. I'm just nervous because I haven't played in years.” you answer with an awkward laugh.

That was one of them, but you couldn't possibly tell Beomgyu that you were nervous because you're alone with him in his room, could you? You hoped he wouldn't question you any further.

“That's alright. I'm here to teach you, so don't worry.” he assures you, looking to your direction and he smiles after your eyes meet.

You smile back, feeling a bit relieved. Maybe you were just worrying over nothing.

“Besides, Taehyun won't be coming home today. It's just going to be the two of us.” he says with a hint of mischievousness in his tone. “You won't have to worry about making mistakes, no one's gonna hear them except for me.”

The feeling of relief didn't last long as Beomgyu's words echoed in your head like crazy. You were already nervous even before he told you that, and now you couldn't calm yourself down even if you tried. Your heart was racing and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Beomgyu notices the change in your expression, making him chuckle. You look away, feeling more embarrassed that he's teasing you about it.

“Let's start with something easy. I'll show you first.”

Beomgyu starts playing the guitar, soon switching between two chords simultaneously. You turn to him, paying attention to how he plays. He starts humming along the tune of the song as he strums up and down.

(Now Playing: 505 by Arctic Monkeys)

He plays up till the first chorus, stopping right before the second verse. You clap your hands, genuinely amazed from what you just watched. Hyuka was right. Beomgyu was really good at playing the guitar, and you just saw it for yourself.

Beomgyu chuckles and shakes his head, feeling a bit embarrassed at your reaction. He hands you over the guitar, and you follow him, crossing your right leg over your left leg, and you position the guitar on top of your thigh.

“I really haven't played in years, so don't make fun of me, okay?” you mutter and he laughs, finding you adorable.

“I won't, I swear.” he then demonstrates how to do the chords, placing his fingers on top of his arm, mimicking how he presses the string of the guitar. “These are the two chords you need to remember, first Dm, and then Em.”

You copy how he positions his fingers and apply that on your end, pressing the strings eagerly. You look at him, trying to check his expression if you were doing it right. He tilts his head slightly, muttering a silent hum before moving. He scoots over right behind you.

“Do you mind?” he asks first, and you were taken aback by his actions, but you shake your head, assuring him that you were okay.

Beomgyu leans forward, finally closing the distance between the both of you and he slowly wraps his arms around you, placing his hands on top of yours, guiding your left fingers to show you how to do the chords properly while guiding your right hand to show you the correct strumming pattern. Beomgyu hums while he plays the song again, this time showing you how to do it on your end as moves your hands gently.

You thought you would be okay, and that you wouldn't mind since he was just going to teach you how, but now you couldn't think straight. All you could think about was how he rested his chin on your shoulder, how his deep voice while he was humming along tickled your ears, how gentle his hands felt on top of yours, how you felt completely enamored with his scent and how you felt his warmth on your back as he embraced you.

You're not the type to engage in any physical activity with anyone, even with your family or your closest friends. You couldn't wrap your head around the fact that it was your first time being this intimate with someone, and it was with Beomgyu.

You had hoped he wouldn't notice how you were basically starting to sweat from the nervousness, or how the sound of your own heart beating was louder than the guitar playing in front of you. You bit your lower lip, in hopes of hiding that you were having a hard time breathing from how fast your heartbeat was going at this point.

You were quickly brought back to your senses when you felt Beomgyu stop moving your hands and you hear him laugh.

“Geez, y/n. Were you even paying attention?” he slowly pulls away, gently letting go of your hands before moving beside you, leaving you almost frozen in place. You pull yourself together, clearing your throat before responding.

“Of course I did.” you replied, trying your best to sound normal. You were still having a hard time calming down and regaining composure, but you didn't want to get more obvious by the minute.

“Really? Show me how it's done, then.” Beomgyu says, flashing a grin while crossing his arms, paying full attention to you.

You looked at him nervously one more time before looking down to check if you positioned your fingers at the fret of the guitar correctly.

“If you do well, I'll grant one wish.” he offers, and you look up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“And if I don't?” you question. He wouldn't say that without having a catch, would he?

“Hmm... if you don't,” his voice grows deeper and more serious as he pauses before slightly leaning forward, not breaking eye contact. “Then maybe I should give you a little punishment for it.” he adds, the corner of his lips curling up to form a smirk.

You stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process what he just told you. After you realized what he just said, you were about to retort him when he cut you off.

“Nah, I'm just kidding.” he pauses with a laugh before adding, “We will just have to keep going until you get it right.”

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

“Y/n- Y/N!”

You were immediately brought back to your senses when you started to hear Soobin's voice echo in the background, fading in as if you just started to snap out of something.

“Are you okay? What's going on? This is like the third time today that I've seen you spacing out.” he muttered as he puts his both of his hands on your shoulders while facing you, visibly worried.

“Y-yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that.” you mutter and immediately get back to work. You hear Soobin sigh before he took his hands off of your shoulders.

You rummage through the counter before looking up to greet the customer waiting in front of you.

“Good morning! What can I get for you to-”

You weren't able to finish your sentence as you lock eyes with Beomgyu, grinning at you. You felt your cheeks go warm and your heart skip a beat.

For the past few days, you just couldn't seem to get Beomgyu out of your head, especially after your first guitar session with him. It has gotten to the point that even your roommate has noticed you spacing out multiple times, which was unusual for you since you wouldn't usually have problems focusing on work, studies and even on house chores.

You thought you needed to pull yourself together when the source of your unusual antics suddenly appeared in front of you.

“Good morning, y/n. I'll just get my usual order, thanks.” Beomgyu smiles at you, handing over the payment for his order.

“I'm on it. I'll send it to your table in a few minutes.” you smile back at him, an attempt to somehow cover up the fact that you were getting nervous again whenever you were around his presence. He nods at you as a response before heading to his table.

You turned around to get started with Beomgyu's order when you notice Soobin looking at you, raising his eyebrow as he leans on the counter with his arms crossed.

“What?” you chuckled as you question the judging expression on his face.

“I think I might have a feeling I know what has been on your mind these days since you started acting weird... or should I say, 'who'.” Soobin replies and he made sure to emphasize the last part.

“It's really nothing, Soobs. I just have a lot on my mind recently, that's all. I swear I'll do better today, so don't worry too much.” you shrug, clearly getting at what he's implying to you before leaving the counter and working on Beomgyu's order.

You knew that Soobin would be the first to notice these things, so you wanted to stop the conversation there before it turns into another nagging session from him. You were reminded of the few times you noticed how he started to act like he was your father or something, especially when you weren't being yourself. You knew he always meant well, you just weren't in the mood for it at the moment.

Soobin stared at your back as you walked away from him, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. He averts his gaze over to Beomgyu's table, and immediately gets taken aback when he sees Beomgyu glaring at him as if he was about to shoot daggers with his eyes. Soobin scoffs at the sight in disbelief.

You quickly finish Beomgyu's order, placing two chocolate chip cookies and an iced caramel macchiato onto the small tray. You slightly fixed your hair before heading to his table while carrying the tray that had his order.

As you walked towards him, you noticed that he was on his phone with wireless headphones resting on his head, covering both of his ears. Sunlight spills through the window, illuminating the little table where he was seated and perfectly emphasizing his defined features. Despite his dark-presenting exterior, you can't help but notice how his face looks so angelic. It almost felt like you were observing a painting.

He notices you getting closer and turns to you, smiling as your eyes met. You smiled back, hoping he wouldn't notice the tint of pink flushing your cheeks. He takes off his headphones and puts them down to rest on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck.

“Here's your cookies and iced caramel macchiato, Beomgyu.” you carefully place the cup of coffee and plate of cookies on the table, making sure not to spill anything or make a mess. He thanks you and smiled at him as a response.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” you say while you hold the now empty tray in your hands, about to turn around when he answered, stopping you in your tracks.

“You.”

Taken aback from his response, you looked back at him with a confused expression.

Did you mishear what he said? The grin plastered on his face when you looked back at him wasn't much help when you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Sit here with me. Let's talk for a bit.” he suggests, tapping the table as a gesture to invite you to sit down on the empty chair across him.

“Beomgyu, I'm-” you were about to decline his offer when he cuts you off.

“I know, but you always make time for us whenever we visit, and it's not that busy right now.” he looks around, observing the almost empty cafe. There were only three occupied tables, including his.

“Pretty please?” Beomgyu mutters. You were taken aback by the shift in his tone, and the change in his expression, especially how he looked up at you with almost puppy-like eyes that could convince literally anyone, you thought to yourself.

You sighed before placing the tray on the table and sat down facing him, taking him on his offer.

“Fine, but only for a few minutes, okay?”

He smiles at you before taking a sip of the coffee you prepared for him. You noticed how his eyes widened after taking a sip and he nods slowly while savoring the drink, implying that he approves of it.

You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction. Soobin usually prepares the drinks while you're in charge of the counter but today wasn't a busy day so you decided to do Beomgyu's order. You were just glad that he liked it.

“So, where's Kai and Taehyun? Don't you guys usually come together?” you asked, a hint of curiosity visible in your tone. This was the first time he came by himself so you wondered if something had happened.

“Dunno. I never got to ask them. I'm sure they wouldn't really mind, though.” he replies almost nonchalantly as he continues to sip on his drink.

Not quite the answer you were expecting to get, but you didn't question him further. You rested your chin on the palm of your hand as you turned to the glass window just beside the table. Outside, the city wakes up, people hurrying past, but here, in the small and cozy space of the cafe, time feels like it slows down. A short moment of silence fills the air.

“Aren't you going to ask me why I came here so early?” Beomgyu mutters after a while, breaking the silence.

You look at him for a moment before saying anything. He also rested his chin on the palm of his hand, except he wasn't looking out the window, but facing you directly. It was almost as if he was observing you, and silently admiring your features. The thought of him gazing at you intently sent your mind spiraling and you almost felt like your heart was going to explode.

“Alright then, why did you come here by yourself so early?”

Beomgyu leans forward, slowly closing the distance between the both of you with his face still resting on his hand.

“It's because I wanted to see you.” Beomgyu replies, still staring into your eyes. His gaze was somehow intense, yet it felt gentle. His voice was deep and soft at the same time that it almost sounded like a whisper.

You sat there with widened eyes as a fluttering sensation begins in your stomach, like tiny wings beating against the walls of your insides. A mix of excitement and nervousness runs through your veins, a feeling that is only too familiar whenever you were with Beomgyu.

Your cheeks and ears were warm and you felt a weird sensation all over your body. You swore if he could come any closer he could probably hear the raging sound of your heartbeat by now. His answer pierced through your ears, and you were once again intoxicated by the effect he had on you.

You immediately turned away, breaking eye contact before you could completely get lost in your thoughts.

“You know you could still see me even if you went with the others, right?” you respond, a desperate attempt at trying to keep calm and handle the situation you were in.

“I know, but I want you to pay attention to me, just me. This is different.” he responds almost immediately, and you could tell he was serious despite not looking at him just by the tone of his voice.

“Well, you got what you wanted, I guess...” you muttered and you heard Beomgyu chuckle at your flustered state.

Your heart flutters, each beat echoing in your ears. You glance around to make sure no one, especially Beomgyu, hasn't noticed. The feeling is both delightful and awkward, leaving you wishing to disappear and yet wanting to bask in the sensation a little longer.

“Did you two fight or something?” Beomgyu asks and you looked at him with a confused expression on his face. You noticed that he was facing towards the counter, looking at Soobin. You realize that he was probably referring to what happened earlier.

“You mean Soobin? No, we didn't.” you answered and you heard a soft hum from him as a response.

“Huh... weird. It sure seemed like it.”

“He's just looking out for me, that's all.”

“Soobin.... he's not your boyfriend, is he?” Beomgyu mutters while fiddling with the straw from the iced caramel macchiato.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by Beomgyu’s question. The idea of Soobin being your boyfriend seemed completely out of left field. For a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. You quickly shook your head, trying to clear up the confusion before it could spiral further.

“Uh… What? Soobin? No, no, of course not,” you finally stammered, trying to shake off the strange feeling of discomfort that suddenly settled in your chest.

“He's just my roommate. We're just friends, nothing more than that.”

Beomgyu looked at you for a long second, his eyes slightly narrowed as if he were searching for something you weren't saying. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he fiddled with the straw, and it clicked. It made you wonder if he was trying to figure something out, something about you, maybe.

Wait. Is he... jealous?

Your heart raced a little faster, and you couldn’t help but glance away for a second to collect your thoughts. Why was he jealous?

You had to admit, you hadn’t really expected Beomgyu to react this way. His usual carefree attitude seemed to have disappeared, replaced by something else. You couldn't ignore it anymore, the slight edge in his voice, the way his gaze kept flicking between you and Soobin, like he was trying to measure something.

“Beomgyu,” you started, your voice slightly shaky, “You don’t have to worry about Soobin. I mean, he’s just looking out for me like he always does. But there’s nothing between us, really.” You felt your cheeks heat up, and you prayed he didn’t notice how flustered you were.

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, but there was that familiar wariness in them now, like he was still trying to process what you were saying. “It just seemed like you two were...” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought. His eyes kept darting between you and Soobin, and you could feel his unease pressing against you.

Beomgyu cleared his throat, suddenly shifting in his seat. His eyes avoided yours now, focusing on the iced caramel macchiato in front of him as he stirred the straw absentmindedly, like he was trying to regain some composure.

“I... I didn’t mean to make things weird,” he muttered, his voice much quieter than before.“I was just asking.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. It was as if he was backpedaling, trying to pull away from the conversation as quickly as possible.

“No, Beomgyu, it’s okay,” you said quickly, your voice a little more steady than you felt. “I just… I didn’t expect you to be so concerned. I promise, there's nothing going on between me and Soobin. You don’t need to worry.”

Beomgyu looked at you briefly, but his expression softened, his eyes a little unsure. “Yeah, I know,” he said, shifting uncomfortably.“I just... I don’t know. It seemed like you two were acting weird earlier, like—” He cut himself off, suddenly aware that he was still digging himself deeper.

“Anyway, forget I said anything. I’m probably just overthinking it.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the flustered feeling bubbling up again. It wasn’t lost on you that Beomgyu was avoiding your eyes now, his usual carefree demeanor completely replaced with a subtle, almost embarrassed unease.

You couldn’t deny it—he was definitely jealous, even if he wasn’t openly admitting it. The realization made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t expect.

You opened your mouth to say something more, to try to reassure Beomgyu that everything was fine and that his worries were unnecessary. But before you could get the words out, Soobin’s voice rang through the air, cutting off the fragile moment before it could go any further.

“Y/N!” Soobin called, his tone light but firm as he approached the counter. “Break’s over. You’re needed back at the register.”

You blinked, startled by the interruption. For a second, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, almost like you had been given an escape route before the conversation could get any more complicated. You didn’t know what you would have said next, or if you would have been able to keep your composure if the moment between you and Beomgyu had stretched on.

“Right,” you muttered quickly, the words coming out a little too fast. You shot a glance at Beomgyu, offering him a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, I have to get back to work. My break's over.”

You were about to stand up, already feeling the pressure of the conversation lifting, when Beomgyu’s hand gently wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His touch was warm and firm, but there was an unmistakable softness to it, like he didn’t want to let go just yet.

You froze, your heart pounding at the unexpected contact. Beomgyu’s fingers felt like they had a quiet weight to them, as though he was holding onto something that mattered more than either of you had acknowledged.

“Wait,” Beomgyu said quietly, his voice just above a whisper. His eyes met yours, and there was something deeper there, something more vulnerable than you’d ever seen from him before.

“Before you go... just... I don’t know. Don’t think I’m trying to avoid what we were talking about. I just—”

He stopped himself, like he was second-guessing his words. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and for a brief moment, you wondered if this was your chance to clarify things, to make sure he didn’t misinterpret everything that had been said. But then, that familiar tension crept in, the same kind of nervousness that always seemed to bubble up around him. You weren’t sure if either of you were ready for it to go deeper, but the connection between you was undeniable now.

You gave him a small, reassuring smile, trying to hide the nervousness in your chest. “I know, Beomgyu,” you said gently, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to explain anything. We’ll figure it out, but right now, I need to get back to work.”

You felt his grip on your wrist loosen just a little, but he didn’t let go completely. His eyes softened, and you could tell he was still thinking about something, still processing everything you had said. He seemed torn, like he didn’t want to let you leave without resolving the unspoken tension, but at the same time, he knew he had to.

“Let's talk when you come over.” he said, his voice more steady now, though there was still a hint of hesitation. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

You nodded quickly, feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment at the way things had left off. Before you could second-guess yourself, you gently pulled your hand away from his, standing up and walking toward Soobin, who was now holding the door to the kitchen open for you.

As you passed by, you stole one last glance at Beomgyu, who was staring at the table, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his cup. You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next, if his feelings for you were as complicated as they seemed, or if he would keep pushing them down.

Either way, you knew that things were changing. And for better or for worse, the dynamic between you and Beomgyu had just become a lot more complicated.

For now, though, all you could do was focus on your shift. Or try to, at least.

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

A few days had passed since that awkward, yet strangely intimate, conversation with Beomgyu at the café. The words you had almost said, those feelings you were still trying to figure out—kept swirling in your mind, replaying over and over. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d thought about it the same way, if he felt anything close to what you had felt in that moment.

Today, you were standing in front of Beomgyu’s apartment door, your hand hovering nervously over the doorknob. The familiar flutter of nerves settled in your stomach, but this time, it felt different.

There was a weight to the air that hadn’t been there before—the unspoken tension between you both, lingering after that conversation at the café.

You exhaled slowly, trying to calm your racing heart. You had been looking forward to this guitar tutorial session for weeks, but now, knowing that things might not be as simple as before, it felt harder than ever.

Shaking your head, you reminded yourself that you’d be fine. It was just a guitar lesson. Just like it always was.

With a deep breath, you raised your hand to knock, but before your knuckles could meet the door, it opened.

Beomgyu stood there, looking just as you remembered: casually dressed, his hair a little messy in that endearing way, and that usual glint of mischief in his eyes. But something was different this time. There was a small pause as his eyes met yours—just a moment longer than usual, before he stepped aside to let you in.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice soft but warm, though there was still an undercurrent of something unspoken between you.

You nodded quickly, managing a small smile, though your heart was still in your throat.

“Hey, Beomgyu,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you stepped inside, your hand lightly brushing past his as you entered his apartment.

The door clicked shut behind you as you stepped into Beomgyu’s apartment, the familiar smell of his space greeting you, but today, everything felt different. The usual easy vibe between you two seemed a little distant, as if there were invisible threads tugging between you both that neither of you could quite untangle.

Beomgyu didn’t seem his usual carefree self—his usual teasing smile was replaced with something more guarded. His gaze flickered to you, hesitant, before he motioned for you to follow him.

“Let’s go to my room,” Beomgyu said quietly, standing in front of his living room with his hand on the hallway door, as if he was still trying to decide whether or not he was ready to address whatever awkwardness hung in the air.

You nodded, biting your lip as your heart raced in your chest. Was he going to bring up what happened?

Was he still thinking about that moment at the café when everything seemed to shift between you two?

You followed him down the hallway, and the closer you got to his room, the more nervous you became. The space felt smaller somehow, more intimate now that you were both stepping into it with this new, unspoken tension lingering between you.

Beomgyu pushed the door open, stepping aside to let you enter. The room was exactly as you remembered it—his bed pushed up against the far wall, a few posters of bands scattered on the walls, his guitar resting on a stand beside his desk. Everything felt oddly familiar, but the space seemed charged now, in a way it hadn’t before.

You hesitated before stepping inside, but Beomgyu quickly gestured for you to take a seat on the bed, which you did, sitting slightly at the edge.

“Uh, so... we can just start the lesson whenever,” you said, trying to keep your voice casual, not wanting to acknowledge the tension that was settling into the space between you.

But Beomgyu didn’t seem interested in starting the lesson just yet. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his arms crossed in front of his chest. There was a noticeable hesitation in his posture, a stiffness that told you he was trying to figure out what to say.

“You know,” Beomgyu started slowly, his voice quieter than usual, “I’ve been thinking about what happened at the café.”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of it, the conversation you’d tried so hard to move past resurfacing unexpectedly. You blinked, looking at him, trying to push down the flustered feeling rising in your chest.

“I, uh, I didn’t mean for it to get so weird,” he continued, his eyes not meeting yours as he fidgeted with his hands. “But I just—I don't know, I thought... maybe I was being too obvious? About, you know...” he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable, but you could hear the unease in his voice.

You quickly shook your head, trying to reassure him. “No, Beomgyu, it’s not like that. You didn’t make things weird,” you said, though you couldn’t quite hide the nerves in your voice.“It’s just... things have been a little confusing lately, that’s all.”

The words felt like they were floating in the air, hanging between you both. Beomgyu finally turned his gaze to you, and you could see the uncertainty there, the way he was searching your face for something—maybe an answer, or maybe just a sign that everything was okay.

“It’s not just that,” he said, his voice a little more serious now. “I—look, I don’t want you to think I was being jealous or anything, but... I was. And I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve been acting like a jerk, right? I'm sorry, y/n.”

You weren’t sure how to answer, your heart hammering in your chest. Hearing him say it out loud, jealous, made something inside you tighten. Was that what this was all about? Was that why the air between you two had felt so charged, so different since that day? So he really was jealous?

“Beomgyu...” you started, trying to find the right words. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. I just... I wasn’t expecting it either. I didn’t think you’d feel that way.”

Beomgyu’s gaze softened as he pushed off from the door and walked over to sit next to you on the bed.

His presence was warm, but there was still a tension there, lingering in the space between you. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly still wrestling with what he wanted to say next.

“I don’t want you to think I’m being weird,” he said, his voice quiet now, almost as if he were talking to himself. “But I don’t want things to stay awkward between us, either.”

You could feel your heart race in your chest again, the unspoken words hanging in the air, thick with all the things neither of you wanted to say outright. You shifted slightly, trying to find a way to diffuse the growing pressure between you both, to make the conversation feel lighter.

“So,” you started, voice just a little too high, “About today’s lesson... What are we working on? Did you want to go over that new song you were learning?”

Beomgyu gave a soft chuckle at your attempt to change the subject, but it wasn’t one of his usual playful laughs. This one felt a little more resigned, like he was unsure whether or not to just give in to the moment. He turned his gaze toward you, searching for something in your face.

“We can work on the song,” Beomgyu replied, but his voice still held that quiet, heavy undertone.“But, honestly, Y/N, I don’t want to avoid what’s been going on between us. I don’t think it’ll go away just by pretending everything’s fine.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the air conditioning, and you wondered if he was just as nervous as you were.

Finally, he sighed, and you saw his shoulders drop, as if he were gathering his courage. He walked toward you, but instead of sitting beside you, he took a step back, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Beomgyu said suddenly, his voice low but clear. The words hung in the air like a confession, and you froze, unsure of how to react.“A lot. More than I’d like to admit.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked, trying to process what he was saying. He hadn’t seemed like himself lately, and the fact that he was bringing this up now, in this quiet, vulnerable moment, threw you off. Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“You’ve been on my mind,” Beomgyu continued, his voice growing softer but more earnest. “It’s been... hard to stop thinking about what happened at the café. I didn’t mean to come off like I was... jealous, but I guess I was. And I can’t pretend anymore that I don’t feel something for you. Something more than just friendship.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you blinked at him, your mind struggling to process the weight of his words. Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

“I like you, Y/N.” Beomgyu admitted, his eyes finally meeting yours. There was no teasing, no playful glint in his gaze this time. Just honesty, raw and unguarded. “And I’ve been trying to hide it, but I can’t anymore. I... I like you more than just as a friend. I’ve been wanting to tell you, and I feel stupid that it took so long for me to say it, but I didn't know how.”

You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs as his confession hung between you two. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker, and you weren’t sure if it was the proximity or the weight of his words making everything seem so intense.

“Wait... Beomgyu, I—” you started, but the words stuck in your throat. You couldn’t deny it—your heart had been racing every time he looked at you, every time you caught his gaze. The truth was, you’d always felt a pull toward him, but hearing him say it out loud made everything feel so much more real.

Beomgyu stepped closer, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge how you were feeling. “I don’t want to hide it anymore. I’ve been worried, Y/N. Worried that you wouldn’t feel the same way, or that it might ruin our friendship. But I don’t want to keep pretending that I don’t want something more.”

Your chest tightened, a whirlwind of emotions crashing over you. You’d thought about this moment before, what it would be like if Beomgyu ever admitted he liked you, if he ever acknowledged the feelings that had been growing between you two. And now, standing here in his room, it was happening.

It was all unfolding right before you.

“I’m not asking for anything crazy, or for us to figure everything out right now,” Beomgyu said, his voice a little softer now. “I just needed you to know how I feel. Because it’s been eating at me, and I don’t want to keep pretending like everything is just... normal between us when it’s not. Not for me, at least.”

For a long moment, the two of you stood there, the world outside fading away as everything settled into this quiet space. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It was filled with everything you both hadn’t been able to say before.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the rush of emotions flooding through you. There was so much you wanted to say, but the words felt tangled in your chest. You looked up at Beomgyu, his expression uncertain, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your heart ache.

“Beomgyu...” you whispered, your voice soft but steady. “I’ve been thinking about you too. More than I probably should. It's gotten to the point that even Soobin noticed, and that's... that's why you thought we were fighting that day, he was just worried because I was acting so weird. God, I couldn't focus on work because you kept getting in my thoughts.”

His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you could see a flicker of hope pass across his face. You took another breath, feeling your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t look away.

“I don’t know what this means yet,” you continued, trying to find the right words. “But I don’t want to ignore it either. I... I like you too, Beomgyu. I feel the same way.”

The words felt surreal as they left your lips, but the moment they did, the weight you hadn’t even realized you were carrying seemed to lift. There was no more confusion, no more guessing. The tension, the uncertainty, it all seemed to fade in the wake of your admission.

There was a beat of silence before his expression seemed to shift, and a mischievous grin slowly tugged at the corners of his lips. The serious mood that had filled the room suddenly felt... lighter. It was like he was shaking off the tension, returning to his usual self.

“Well, well,” Beomgyu teased, leaning forward slightly as his grin widened. “I always knew I was irresistible.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. Your heart still thudded in your chest, but now you couldn’t help but laugh a little at his cocky, teasing nature returning. His usual playful energy was back in full force, and it made you feel a little more at ease. He wasn't letting this moment get heavy, and it made you realize that maybe you didn’t have to be so serious either.