IRENE

Ryland Grace glared at you over the rim of his glasses as he righted himself, straightening the papers he'd been grading. His dirty-blond hair was a right mess, sticking up in all directions like he'd just been touched by a static spark.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?"

You grinned, crossing your arms as you leaned against his desk. "I don't think you wouldn't heard me with the way you were snoring."

Grace made a face, offended. "I wasn't snoring."

He wasn't. But you liked to make fun of him.

You made a show of checking your nails (which weren't manicured, but you had nothing else to make a show of), frowning. "You were late, so I came looking for you."

Grace's deep blue eyes widened. "Late?" He checked his watch and shot to his feet like a man possessed, shuffling to collect his papers and shove them in his briefcase. "Oh no. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll go with you right now. Is now okay? I know it's late--"

Your mischievous giggle gave him pause. You flashed him a cheeky grin over your shoulder. "The release is tomorrow, Grace."

His shoulders fell. "Y/N, what..." He fell back into his chair with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Tomorrow was the release of a new book in a series you'd been reading together, and he'd promised to go with you to the signing. With the deadline of the broadcast for the Petrova Line's probe getting nearer and nearer, everyone was acting like it was their last day on Earth. Since it was a Saturday, he'd promised to come with you early to get a signed copy-- which might take several hours, if people weren't chaotic enough to just storm the venue. "What am I gonna do with you?"

You pulled a bright yellow beanbag out of your hoodie pocket. It fit perfect in your palm. "Take me to the movies. Go get ice cream. Go for a walk in the park. Anything you do that involves me is going to be awesome." You tossed him the beanbag. "Here. A sun for your Earth."

He snatched it out of the air. "Oh, that's cool. Thank you." He turned it over in his hands a couple of times, thinking. "How about... ice cream, then my place? We can watch a movie on the TV? I'm really sorry, I'm just so exhuast--"

"If you apologize one more time," You warned, "I'm gonna dump water on your head." You waved his water bottle at him pointedly. You both held a hard, cold stare for as long as you could; he cracked first, smirking slightly. You widened your eyes suddenly and he fully broke with a soft laugh.

"Okay, fine. I won't apologize again. Today."

You and Grace had known each other a very, very long time. You grew up in the same town, were bullied at the same school, attended the same college, and now lived in the same city-- and not wholly by intent. But you're glad for it, because if you had to go a day without seeing Grace, then you might as well go a day without breathing.

You'd been raised in very different lives. While his was a science household, yours was very strict Catholic. You escaped through science and were punished severely for it, which pushed you into a career as a doctor that you didn't want but were extremely good at. You'd won a couple of awards. It just felt... hollow. It wasn't what you wanted.

You lived in an apartment chock full of biology books, projects, and knick knacks that you'd collected over the years, and it just made you sad. It was like a memory of the life you could have had if you hadn't listened to your parents-- parents you didn't speak to anymore, but you were so deep in medical school debt that going back to school was just unattainable. You didn't have any friends; maybe some friendly coworkers, but never anyone close.

No pets, no boyfriend, no kids, no plants. Just you, yourself, and Grace.

No one was like Grace.

When you were kids, he'd help you with your science projects. In college, he supported you when you cut off your parents when they were trying to set you up with guys your age and trying to get you to get married-- the final straw that broke the camel's back with them. You guys moved to different cities briefly after that, but kept in touch. When he was fired, he moved to your city and got a job as an 8th grade science teacher.

Just like you supported him; when his parents died after college, when the rest of his family cut him off because of his "crazy" theories that got him fired in the first place. You helped him find an apartment in your city, cosigned for him, and since he only has his bike, you let him use your car, and you ferried him around wherever he needed to go.

You two were close, to say the least. And you loved him with all of your heart. The dorky way he wore his glasses, his stupid science shirts, his perpetually messy hair, his passion for science and his kids and biology, his theories, the little things he'd do...

It's a shame he doesn't know any of that.

Somehow, you knew each other better than you knew yourselves, and you couldn't bring yourself to admit that you were in love with him; that you've been in love with him since you were young. Ninety percent of the pictures in your house were of you and him. The pictures and the gifts from Grace were really your only pops of color against the plain backdrop of whites and grays in your apartment. You weren't going to risk ruining the only good thing in your life. At least, not any time soon.

Grace had tried to date around awhile back, which hurt your heart, but you said nothing. When his college girlfriend Linda left him for a geology professor, Grace essentially swore off dating because he was scared of getting hurt again-- which left him with only you.

Not intentionally. You both did try, separately and together, to have friends and go out. Nothing ever seemed to work out. It felt like it was you and Grace against the world.

Wordlessly, you admired him as he collected his things and threw on his jacket. He noticed you watching him only as he started toward the light switches. He slowed down halfway there, pausing to look over his shoulder at you. "...What? Do I have something on my face?"

Heat crept up your neck as you averted your gaze. You shook your head minutely and hurried to catch up with him. "Nope."

He waited for you to reach him and put his free arm around your shoulder with a smile, leading you out of the classroom. You flipped off the switch as you left. "How was school today?"

"Long," He sighed. "The kids are worried about the Petrova line, but I can't tell them anything about it until the probe reaches it." He readjusted his coat hung over his arm. "What about you?"

You took a deep breath. You didn't want to tell him about what was going on at work, but you didn't really want to keep anything from him. The only secret you'd ever kept from him was that you were in love with him. "So... I think I might get fired." Grace stopped in his tracks, brow bunching together with worry. "I had a patient the other day who'd been banned from three other practices... He kept starting fights over his care. Wanting us to do specific procedures but not wanting us to perform the needed tests. Dr. Meyer-- you know him--"

"Unfortunately," Grace grumbled, a muscle ticking in his cheek. Dr. Meyer was the office manager and lead doctor of your practice, and very very persistent in getting you to go out with him. Every time you denied, you got repercussions at work-- forced leave, complaints from staff, and every time you reported him nothing was done. He was apparently under investigation, but you saw no evidence of that. The only time Grace had met him was at a plus one work event a few years ago, and despite Grace being right there had kept trying to flirt with you and pull you away.

Needless to say you'd been looking for other options, but you couldn't afford to be without a job and it was very, very difficult to find a position in your town.

You continued with a sigh. "Well, he accepted him, and when he started requesting the procedures, I denied care. He wouldn't accept the pre-admission tests, and we can't do anything without that. He didn't even want me to read his medical history. Nothing is wrong with him physically. It's neurological, but he refuses to see a specialist. He just keeps coming to doctors.

"Yesterday, I found forged papers okaying the procedures with my name on them. Once it leaves our practice to the surgery department, I'm screwed. I never even did a full exam on the guy."

"Y/N," Grace interrupted in warning, his voice soft. "...You won't be able to work in healthcare again. At least, not easily." You shook your head solemnly. The wind blew your hair into your face and you pulled it away. "Maybe that's a blessing in disguise," Grace added, helping to tuck your wild hair behind your ear and wholly unaware of the way your heartbeat quickened. "You'd be able to pursue a science degree like you always wanted."

"I can't afford that, Grace."

He stared at you for a moment, like he was doing calculations in his head. Finally, he took your arm and began leading you to your truck. "We'll figure it out, don't worry. Whatever happens, happens. You know I've got your back."

"I know." You tossed him your keys and turned toward his bike. You didn't have to look to know he caught them. He always did. He didn't have to ask to know you'd already snatched his bike lock keys out of his back pocket. By the time you'd gotten his bike unlocked, he'd already pulled up behind you. He parked by you and started to get out. You rolled your eyes. "I'm fully capable of putting it in the bed."

He shrugged. "It's my bike, though." He tossed it in a bit unceremoniously as you got in the passenger side. He smiled at you when he returned. "Sooooo, Dairy Queen, then my place? What do you want to watch?"

"I dunno." As he pulled out of the school, you added, "To be totally fair I don't even know what kind of ice cream I want. Or if I'm gonna get food while we're there."

Grace chuckled a bit. "You'll figure it out."

"That's your answer to everything."

"Our answer to everything," He specified, and pulled up his right sleeve to reveal a bracelet you hadn't seen in a very, very long time. Just simple brown cord with a couple of beads, it said "We will always..." You'd made that for him in high school.

"You still have that?!"

Grace smiled at your agape jaw. "What? You still wear yours." He laid his arm on the center console, silently asking for you to lay yours by his. You pulled up your own sleeve a bit, dumbfounded, and let your bracelet finish the sentence on his. "...Figure it out." "Your job, ice cream, movie, the Petrova line, doesn't matter what it is. We'll figure it out."

"I guess we will," You were stuck staring at the bracelets in shock for a minute. You were sure it'd been stupid when you made them. You still wore yours out of habit-- you'd never gone without it-- and your half of the sentence kind of made sense by itself, even if it made it singular rather than involving Grace in whatever you were figuring out. Seeing that he still wore it unlocked some kind of giddy well of emotion that you struggled to keep under control as you turned your gaze to admire his profile.

"What?!" He laughed, glancing at you while trying to pay attention to traffic. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Maybe I'm trying to decide what kind of ice cream I want."

"By looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

Grace sighed with exasperation and shook his head as he pulled into Dairy Queen. "Nothing. Nevermind. Drive-thru?" You just nodded, frustration keeping you silent. You wouldn't show it, but sometimes you wished when he caught you staring he'd actually keep going with it. Push you into admitting how you feel.

You kept your hand where it was-- hanging beside his over the center console-- and leaned forward to turn up the news. They were still talking about the Petrova line, speculating on what it could be. You both tensed, anxious at the possibilities that all ended in global catastrophe. Subtly, you slipped your fingertips between his. "Grace..."

"Yeah?"

You couldn't look at him. At some point, you'd have to confess before you both inevitably died terribly, but not yet. "...Will we figure this out, too?" You weren't just talking about the Petrova line. You're sure he must like you too, at least a little bit-- unless you were just wishful thinking. Surely his tender hugs and gentle touches like you were made of glass or long stares meant something more than just friends to him too.

Grace surprised you by shaking your hand away. You were briefly hurt before he repositioned his hand to take yours, entwining your fingers with a gentle squeeze. "Yes." He ran his thumb over the back of your hand and met your gaze meaningfully. "I promise."

Maybe he wasn't just talking about the Petrova line, either.

~~~

"Grace! Grace!" Your hoarse voice cut through mechanical beeping and squealing of the medical systems panicking as you crawled out of your cot. Tubes left every orifice but your mouth, which was raw from the feeding tube that had been removed. Everything hurt worse now. You couldn't stand. Your vision blacked in and out. This was day two of trying to get to him.

Olesya and Yao were dead. They had to be. But Grace's vitals were still working. He was fine, right? What if he died next?

No. You couldn't take it. Not your Grace.

"Grace!"

The computer's mechanical voice cut through the chaos: "Eye movement detected. Preparing Dr. Ryland Grace for wake up procedure."

You felt the anesthesia in your IV again. It was quick-acting. Your vision began to fade as his cot was pulled from the wall. He has eye movement. He's waking up. But is he sound? Did Stratt actually induce amnesia? Please tell me he fought it. Please...

You filled your lungs and yelled his name with everything you had before you were swept away into darkness again.

~~

You and Grace sat on his couch, half asleep as the credits of Return of the Jedi played.

"Good movie," You mumbled, head nodding into the pillow on your lap. Grace didn't answer right away. You smiled warmly at his sleeping form before switching off the TV and bracing yourself for the drive home. It wasn't long, but it was certainly lonely.

"Y/N," He said groggily, making you jump. He didn't seem to notice. "I was thinking."

"Apparently hard enough to knock you out."

He hummed a laugh and cracked his deep blue eyes open, hesitating. "What if we just moved in together?"

Your heart dropped. "What?"

Grace started listing things off on his fingers. "We're literally always together, we're always spending the night at each other's apartments, you're about to lose your job, you have a car we both can use. It's not like we really have any concept of personal space anyway."

"I mean... I have seen you at your worst. You were dying." Grace immediately knew you were talking about when he was sick a few years ago-- just a basic cold. But he'd taken a week off of work because he could barely breathe or move, you stayed at his place to nurse him back to help, and he acted like he was on death's door. You dramatically started mocking him. "Oh my God, I can't feel my face, I'm gonna die--"

Grace raised his voice to speak over you, rolling his eyes. "I was sick, I couldn't even walk--"

"Please, get me a pen so I can write my will I'm not gonna make it--"

"The one time I call for you for help because I'm sick and I could barely breathe--"

"I'm LITERALLY dying I need to go to the hospitaaaaal--"

"I thought I really needed to go!"

You busted out laughing. "To be totally fair, you really were sick enough to have me worried. I just like teasing you."

"So I noticed!" He scoffed, glaring at you from his place on the couch-- still half-asleep. "You're one to talk, anyway. Any time you get the slightest congestion--"

"I'm gonna stop you right there--" You held up a hand in a futile effort to stop him, but he ignored you.

"Graaaace, can I borrow some benadryllll?"

"I do not sound like that!"

"You're a doctor how do you not already have benadryl?!"

"I keep forgetting to buy some and you're always prepared for anything."

Grace made it a point to judge you over the rim of his glasses. "Well? Living together? You'll always have access to Benadryl."

"And you'll always have someone to take care of you when you're sick, you big baby."

"I am not--"

"Can I think about it?" Your tone had shifted into something more serious that Grace could sense. You two hadn't lived together since that one summer you'd both went to your grandparents' house out west when you were teens to run a science experiment on the Great Plains. But living with him now?

The world could end any day now. You're kind of on a deadline here. Living with him might push you to make the leap into confessing. But could you bring yourself to do it?

Grace only nodded. "Take as much time as you need. No pressure if you decide to or not. You know that. You sleeping here tonight?" You answered with a distracted hum. You usually slept over on the weekends, insisting to stay on his pullout couch while he got his bed. He brought you some bedding as you got everything ready and pulled a pair of pajamas out of your purse.

"Y/N?" Grace lingered in the door to his bedroom, the rest of the lights in the house off except for the TV.

"Yeah?" You paused on your way to the bathroom to change, turning to look at him.

He chewed on his bottom lip for a minute and straightened his glasses before clearing his throat. "I don't know if you... have anybody. Romantically, like that. But if they're uncomfortable with it--"

"There's nobody, Ryland." Your voice cracked. You never used his first name unless it was very, very serious. He knew that. He couldn't bring his gaze up to meet yours. Nobody but you. "I don't have anyone." You hesitated, then added with a breezy cough, "But if you--"

"I don't." His eyes flicked up once, almost like he was gauging your reaction. "I-I'm not with anybody. Haven't been in a long time." A heavy silence dragged between you. You were only separated by a hallway, but it felt so much longer than it really was, so much deeper. It was like the vastness of space itself stretched between you. "Do you have anyone you're interested in?"

You froze. Say it now. Say it. Your tongue was like lead in your mouth. "Grace--" You choked, and you inwardly cursed. It sounded like you were only reprimanding him. "Grace uh..." Panic made you change the subject. "Do you?"

Grace met your gaze intently. Your face flushed. "...I don't know yet." The two of you lingered in the hallway a moment before he half-turned away. "'Night."

The door clicking shut behind him was the loudest thing you'd ever heard.

~~~

You choked as you woke up. A tube was in your throat again, hindering your screams as you groggily flailed around, trying to pull out the IV but finding yourself restrained.

You had moved in with Grace. You two had been living together for only a couple of weeks when he told you about getting signed on for the Petrova taskforce against his will, then his discoveries about astrophage. He told you all about his findings-- a mistake, actually, because you woke up in the middle of the night to a couple of FBI-looking guys kidnapping you and whisking you away to the lab, where you were basically put on house arrest unless Grace was with you-- and Stratt, refusing to deal with the loopholes of getting you slowly in the loop, allowed you top security clearance just so you could be with Grace. She called you his security blanket, which wasn't entirely a lie, although he was also yours. Comforting each other from shared panic attacks wasn't easy, though.

Stratt had been nice enough to order some of your things returned to you. Stratt had been nice enough to do quite a lot of things, and you couldn't even blame her for doing what she did to Grace.

From an unbiased perspective, it was the logical thing to do.

To you, she wrestled your love onto a ship bound for a star never to return, against his will, forced him into a coma, and erased his memory for a little while.

"Hey, hey easy!" Grace. Oh my God, he's okay. You weren't thinking straight. All you wanted was off of the damn bed. "Calm down! Let me help you!" It took everything you had to calm down. You were in space. No trees, plains, rain, ever ever again, just endless space and death waiting for you--

--but Grace was here. Grace, who you'd chosen to die for.

"Hold still," He urged, leaning over you. You welled up, tears streaming down your face when you see him. A little more tired, his hair a bit longer and his face hastily-shaven. "I had the robot take everything else out. You were out of it for a couple of days though, so I had them put the feeding tube back in. I didn't want you to starve. Relax." You forced yourself to, watching as he gently began to pull the tube out of your mouth.

You choked and coughed, doubling over; it was over quick, and he undid your restraints hurriedly. "The computer did this. It said you kept throwing yourself out of bed-- oh--!"

You threw your arms around his neck and let out sobs held back by four years of a medical coma. You'd had all of twenty minutes to decide if you were going to die for Grace by the time Stratt got to you. Now that you were awake, and so was he, it was all hitting you at once.

You were going to die. Within the next couple of years.

You weren't ready.

"Grace--"

"I don't remember you," He managed, voice cracking. "I know you're important. I just can't remember why."

Your sobs came heavier. You'd hoped she wouldn't have drugged him. You'd hoped she'd trusted you enough to keep him from sabotaging the mission-- and you both knew he'd never do that. But she had to take precautions. Vaguely, you heard Grace mumble more to himself than anything, "You're shaking... Uh..." He kept his arms wrapped around you, though, supporting you on the bed. "Computer, do we have heated blankets?"

A moment later, a wall of warmth enveloped you. "I take it you remember a lot more than I do," Grace commented, resting his chin on top of your head. "I'm sorry. I don't know how else to comfort you except hold you."

"It works," You choked, eyeing his wrist. Stratt had listened to you. She didn't have his bracelet removed, or yours. You stared at it as your sobs slowed and your vision faded away.

~~~

"This is stupid," Grace grumbled, adjusting the telescope again. Your eyes found the bracelet on his wrist and smiled. "We can't see it. It's too cloudy. We're on the wrong side of the hemisphere anyway."

"Then find a star other than Tau Ceti," You countered softly, "Find a closer one."

Grace huffed and squinted against the telescope. You fought a giggle, despite the seriousness of the circumstances. At the end of a long, difficult, tiring day, Grace had still wanted to come out and stargaze with you, even if he was being grumpy about it. Being on Baikonur, if you got a few miles away from the base, the sky was endless. Of course, a security detail had to follow you, just so you wouldn't decide to bolt. Grace had disguised it as "research."

He froze then, locked on something. You saw him turning the knob to zoom in and excitement fluttered in your chest. "Find one?"

"Um. Yeah?"

"Why do you sound unsure about that?"

He stepped back, frowning. He extended a hand for his notebook, which you happily handed over. You liked watching him when he's doing something science-y. "It's... It's supposed to be Betelguese."

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline. "'Supposed to be'? Does it have on a fake mustache or something?"

Grace shot you a glare and you raised your hands in poor self-defense. "It's really, really dim. Take a look." You did as he asked and the usually bright red, pulsing orb was much fainter than you'd ever seen it. Your stomach dropped as Grace sighed and jotted down a couple of notes.

"Grace..." You tapped on the telescope's metal casing worriedly. "If... Even if the Hail Mary saves our sun... Will there just be a massive star-death? Will our sky be dark?" You couldn't help the crack in your voice. The thought of thousands of stars dying scared you. A dark sky at night felt unnerving to even think about. Ever since you were a child, you'd adored the stars. You and Grace used to take camping trips solely to stargaze, before all of this with building the Hail Mary.

"Probably," Grace breathed as an icy wind blew across the fields, "Yes. Most likely. I'm sorry. If I could save them all, I would."

"I know you would..." You stepped back from the telescope and let him take over again as he pivoted toward another nearby star. Your heart was pounding. It's now or never. Literally. "Grace... I uh... Can I tell you something that might utterly ruin our friendship?"

He glared at you over the edge of the telescope's eyepiece. "Is it worse than the time you called me back in college and told me you drove into my dorm when you were drunk and trying to park? And then I had to come bail you out of jail?"

You weighed the possible outcomes and winced heavily. "In my defense, I wanted to say hello to my best friend ever?"

"You don't sound sure about that." He tried to hide a smirk and sighed deeply as he went back to the telescope. "Nothing's going to ruin our friendship. Not at this point. What is it?"

You turned away from him, heart pounding and breath coming in short, quick bursts. You can do this. You can definitely do this. "...We've known each other a really long time."

"Yeah."

"We're pretty close."

"Well, I didn't invite you to live with me and get you trapped on this mission because we're not close, so."

You started pacing, keeping your back to him. "You didn't get me trapped here."

Grace scoffed. "I did, actually."

"No, you didn't, last I checked you didn't dress up as some FBI guy and bust down the front door to kidnap me--"

"I love you."

You're pretty sure your heart collapsed in on itself. Your lungs just decided to stop working entirely. You whipped around to face him; his hands were shaking as he fiddled with his pen and notebook, unable to look at you. "Always have. I just... Recently, I realized just how much. I invited you to live with me because I hated being away from you. After I moved back... It was like finding out you can poke an astrophage and kill it. It was jarring." A smile spread across your face at his own reference. "I can't stop thinking, dreaming, about you. Every day is just waiting until I see you again. Just..." He kept his head down as he shortened the distance between you slowly, cautiously, like you'd run away if he moved too fast. "Your cooking, your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your humor, your hair, the way you talk, the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking or the way you interrupt every single movie with your own commentary. I love it. All of it. Every part of you. And if I could go up there and save all your stars, I would. I love you." Finally, only a foot away, he looked at you. Really looked at you, his sapphire eyes glistening with a hint of fear. "Is that by any chance what you were going to say, or did I just ruin everything?"

Now that he'd said it, it was less intense. Your hands and knees trembled as you took a few more steps forward, until you were practically up against him. From here you could hear how quickly he was breathing. "Ryland... I wouldn't want you to save my stars." His shoulders dipped ever so slightly. "I need you here. With me. Every day until it's over. Every day until the stars are all gone. I need you more than any star, even our own. You mean everything to me. And to answer your question, yes. I was going to say 'I love you' and make a whole dramatic speech, but you stole my moment. So. I love you."

You'd barely finished your sentence when he kissed you, as gentle as his fingers were ghosting across your face; like he was asking for permission, almost. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer and he took that as a sign to go ahead, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. He pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, cupping your face in his hand. "When this is all over, we'll move somewhere where you can see the stars every night before they're gone."

"Only if we can get a dog."

Grace smiled, kissing you again. It was softer this time, more passionate as he moved slow, taking his time. He was savoring you like a man starved. "Deal," He said against your lips.

~~~

On shaky, unsteady legs, you left the washroom of the Hail Mary.

After Grace had helped calm you down, he carried you to the washroom since you couldn't walk by yourself. Even not knowing who you were, he was still resoundingly kind. He helped you where he could, and then he left when you decided to clean yourself up. You detangled four years of rats in your hair, washed, and when you smelled decent, you pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top underneath an orange NASA jumpsuit.

Finally, having eaten a tube of surprisingly good-tasting sludge, you made your way to the lab. You couldn't imagine he'd be anywhere else. You turned the corner and there he was, fiddling with a couple of instruments with no particular experiment nearby. Nervous, maybe.

You watched him for a second; he'd cut his hair since he'd helped you out. It had been hours ago, now. Messy, just like it always was. His glasses hung by one ear and he wore one of those stupid science pun tees under a yellow cosmonaut suit. The man who'd promised to save your stars metaphorically. You'd never wanted him to do it physically. Yet here you were.

The love of your life sat only feet away, and your entire lives together had been erased.

A hollow, aching hole opened up in your chest and you hiccuped with the effort of fighting back sobs. "Grace..."

He looked up. Unknowing of who he was to you, of how much you meant to him, about the sacrificed promise of a home to watch the stars and a dog you'd never have. Of a life you'd never have. You weren't sure if the amnesia was permanent, but it hurt. It hurt worse than knowing you were going to die. Grace's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I... I know you're important. I just can't... I can't remember. Did I know you?"

"Yes," You choked out. Forcing memories on someone coming out of a coma was a shockingly bad idea. You would have to suffer alone for however long it took for him to regain his memories. The thought made you hiccup again. "Yes, we knew each other."

"How long?" His eyes pierced through you, vague recognition there. But he didn't know you. Your Grace was gone, even if temporarily. Who knows? Maybe he was gone forever. When you didn't answer, he asked again. "How long did we know each other?"

You wiped tears away. You needed to be professional, like he was your patient, but... It's Grace. It's my Grace. "A long time."

Grace stood up, taking a deep breath. "Who are you?"

"I'm..." Your best friend. Your lover. Your lab partner. "Your doctor," You choked, managing to look him in the eyes. "I'm your doctor."

"What's your name?"

The sentence hurt more than you thought it would. "Y/N."

The silence that dragged between you was as heavy as your uncertain fates.

~~~

Stratt had you sat across from her. It was only a day after the explosion that killed Shapiro and DuBois. Why were they in the lab together? They knew better than to be in one place... And to use that much astrophage... Worryingly, after he'd come to check on you in the chaos, you hadn't seen or heard from Grace.

And you had a sinking feeling as to why.

"I think you know why you're here," Stratt breathed shakily. Tears rimmed her red, puffy eyes. "I didn't want to do it, Y/N. Really, I didn't. But I had to make a choice."

The ragged gasps of your struggling lungs gave way to desperate sobs. I'll never see him again. I'll just know he's out there. My Grace, my Grace-- "Oh, hail Mary," You breathed. A coincidental exclamation leftover from your upbringing, one that didn't come out for anything short of life-changing.

"I'm about to give you a choice," Stratt's voice cracked as she spoke. You couldn't villainize her. However much you hated her right now, you couldn't. She murdered the love of your life, but her reasoning was so legitimate you couldn't blame her for what she did. Grace was the only one who knew anything about the astrophage. The Hail Mary launches in three days. There's no time to train anyone else, and the human race is on the line.

Even if Grace was the sacrifice.

"A choice?!" You shrieked quietly, "Like you gave him?! What's my choice, Stratt? What kind of statue to build in his honor?"

She drummed her fingers on the table, taking a breath like she was trying to hold back the tears. "...Do you want to go with him?"

Your heart dropped.

Stratt continued with little emotion in her voice as she tried to conceal her pain. "You're a capable doctor. They might need one. You know everything about the medical robot, the supplies, everything. If you want to go, I will let you. You can have a few hours to decide."

You'd leave Earth. Forever. No grass. No rain. No wind, no storms, no waterfalls or hiking or camping or going to Dairy Queen. No BBQs or mindless grocery trips or just going for a summer night drive.

But you wouldn't have Grace.

"I'll go." It felt like a bullet to the chest. It might as well be. Stratt didn't even seem surprised. "I'll go," You reiterated, "I don't need to decide. I'm not letting him go alone. I can't."

Respectfully, Stratt nodded. "Whatever you want, within my power, I can give to you."

"Seeds," You said immediately. "Fruits, vegetables, flowers, trees. I want a whole ecosystem. Eggs. Uhhhhh... Any way to get a small population of breedable livestock would be cool. A dog, maybe. Definitely a dog, if nothing else. I want all the kitchen utensils and ingredients and food that you can get. When we're not in zero g, I want everyone to feel at home."

"Done," Stratt whispered. There were still tears in her eyes, but there was also gratitude. A profound, deep gratitude. But also grief, like she was saying goodbye now. "You could die for him so easily. He couldn't do it for the world."

The words stung your heart.

~~~

You stared at the frozen assortment of seeds, plants, and embryonic livestock. At the bottom of the fridge was a puppy, frozen in cryogenic fluids and vacuum-sealed like you and Grace had been. Stratt really had given you everything you'd asked for. It wasn't like you were interstellar colonists, but she'd been happy to give you a couple of chickens and small pigs to work with if you'd wanted to take the time to raise it and make the crew fresh chicken stew.

And the dog. She'd included the dog. Plenty of chicken and dog food, too.

"I named her Laika," Grace mumbled from behind you. "I can't find any logs on why this was included. Everything down to the last piece of dirt was cataloged, except for this. I just can't figure out why."

"I asked for it," You explained softly, closing the fridge. Now wasn't the time to defrost any of it. "You could say I was a very, very last minute addition to the crew."

"Why?" Grace pressed, following you to the control room's ladder. "What aren't you telling me?"

You whipped around, frowning. "What?"

Grace put his hands together, clearly exasperated. "You're hiding something. I don't know why I know that, but I do. You're hiding something and you won't tell me because you're a doctor, and if I freak out from how much you're loading on me then you're gonna blame yourself. I get that, I really do, but you have to tell me why I'm here. I know we're not orbiting our sun, but why?"

You were backed into a corner-- literally and figuratively. If you told Grace everything and left out the parts about you being a couple, or him being forced, he'd feel betrayed later. If you told him now, he might not trust you. Unfortunately for him, letting him remember on his own might be the best way of going about this.

So, start slow. He isn't asking about your personal relationship right now. You took a deep breath, and tried to recall every detail of the Hail Mary mission you could to brace for follow up questions. "Well, Grace..."

His own words under the plains that night came back to you. If I could go up there and save all your stars, I would.

"...We're here to save the stars."

"...Okay," Grace finally relented with a sigh, turning his attention back to the Petrovascope as you started ever so slowly adjusting the ship's trajectory. You'd been awake for a little under four months now, and every ounce of your being longed for Earth, Earth food, scenery... You missed home. You wished you could have seen your parents one more time. They're probably gone now... You blinked rapidly to banish the thought. You hadn't talked to them in years, but would they wonder why you went on the trip? Would they know it was because of Grace? You missed their house... Most of all, you just wanted you and Grace's apartment back. It was cozy, in its own way.

No, you wouldn't think about just how much you'd lost sacrificing yourself so Grace wouldn't die alone.

Although it felt like you'd already lost him anyway. Every time you looked at him, he was Grace, he was there, but he was so, so far away and out of your reach.

He wasn't unkind to you. He never was. But even with him being kind and generous and thoughtful, he still saw you as a stranger. It hurt your heart.

"A little more... A little more... There there there, stop. Perfect." Grace slid out from underneath the Petrovascope. "I can almost see it. We're in loose orbit, so if we just give it a couple of hours I should be able to see the Petrova line."

"Cool," You hummed, starting to go for the buckles of your harness, "Can I stop being the pilot now?"

Grace chuckled as he pulled himself toward the door. "Yes, you can stop being the pilot now. Do you wanna turn on centrifugal mode so we can walk around normally, though?"

Wordlessly, you did as he asked. As soon as gravity was restored, you made your way to the dorm for some much-needed rest. You were going on sixteen hours of calculations and precise movements, after all. You both cleaned up before going to your separate pods. He'd decorated his at some point, covering it in drawings from the kids and some string lights he'd found of Oleysa's.

Yours was barren. It was a bitter mimicry of your apartments before you lived together.

Well, no, not barren. You'd had Stratt pack a lot of your personal items. The only issue was that it all involved you and Grace. He hadn't remembered enough of you yet for you to get any of it out.

"Y/N?" His voice rumbled from below, quiet in case you'd already fallen asleep.

"Yeah?"

"...Did Oleysa and Yao have one of these bracelets, too?" Your heart constricted as he continued, "'We will always.' It's a little cryptic. They didn't have one on them when they died, obviously, and I don't know if you have one, but... Forget it, it's stupid."

He was entirely unaware of the way you were staring at your own bracelet, a copy of his. Something you'd made for you both in high school after a particularly rough summer with your parents. Figure it out, yours said. Because that's what you two did. That's how you worked.

"...You'll figure it out," You promised dryly. You forced all emotion out of your words, fearful of revealing too much to him yet.

"You think so?" He sounded hopeful. You wished you could share that with him. All you could see was death with the man you'd sacrificed yourself for, and he didn't even know. It made you angry. At Stratt, at the astrophage, at Grace, at everything.

But all you could do was cry. "I know so," You choked out, every syllable fighting to maintain composure.

Grace was nice enough not to say anything about you crying. You were only separated by a thin slab of steel, but it felt like you'd left your Grace back on Earth.

"I don't trust this," Grace sotto-whispered from behind you, his breath tickling your ear, "I don't trust this at all."

You stood before a wooden, shaky bridge. As always, a few of Stratt's agents trailed behind you, politely doing their jobs yet ignoring your obvious PDA. You knew he was exhausted, so you wanted to make this quick. But only a few more days until the launch, and after that you and Grace would have your whole lives together.

It's the little things that matter right now, since you were trapped on a base in the middle of Russia.

"Trust me," You chirped, although you weren't too sure of the bridge yourself. "You always have."

"...You're wearing a dress in freezing weather. I don't know if I trust you anymore."

You couldn't help but laugh. It was a warm dress; long sleeves, a coat, and fluffy boots that the agents had procured for you in return for a few quick checkups on their families for free-- not that you wouldn't do it for free, but still. You'd chosen it specifically for this; and even asked him to go before he'd even changed out of his slightly-formal teacher's uniform-- the only thing he could wear to the formal events that required suits around here.

You took his hand in yours and raced across the bridge, dragging a slightly-afraid Grace behind you. He stumbled and nearly fell as you ran across wildly, a mess of laughter between the two of you as you came to a snowy, secluded outcropping with several telescopes. You raced towards the biggest and pointed at it excitedly. "Look in it! Look!"

"Okay, okay!" Grace laughed as he bent low, careful not to adjust the zoom. The star at the other end should've been bright and beautiful for him. "Oh, wow. It's gorgeous. Is that--?"

"Tau Ceti," You finished for him eagerly, "I found Tau Ceti for you."

He looked up over the telescope, beaming as he pulled you in close for a sideways hug. "It's beautiful."

"It took me all day."

"I figured as much."

"Alllll day."

"Are you asking me for something?"

You hummed playfully. "Mmmmayyyybeee."

He chuckled, kissing you on the cheek. "What is it?"

"Just an answer. Not even a promise. Just a someday or never will be okay."

Grace furrowed his brow, peering over his glasses at you. "That's... Okay?"

"How long do you think we'll be together?" You asked bluntly.

Grace blinked rapidly in surprise, like you'd just sideswiped him. "Forever, obviously." You flushed as he stammered to reword his answer. "Well. Not forever. One day we're going to die. But I mean, all our lives, probably. Unless you leave me, but I trust you. We've already been together so long, it feels like we've already been together for years..." His eyes squinted slightly, accusingly. "Why?"

"So we're going to get a house and a dog like you said, move to the country where we can see the stars, and grow old together?"

Grace wasn't picking up where you were going with this. "That's... That's the plan, why?"

You didn't even brace yourself. You just said it, caution be damned. "Would you want to get married someday?" Grace's jaw dropped slightly. He gaped like a dying fish as he struggled to form a coherent thought. You waved your hands wildly. "Not yet! Not any time soon! Someday, I said, someday--"

"What about next Monday?"

You stopped short, shocked. "...Huh?"

"It's after the launch," Grace explained, looking off into the distance rather than at you. "We'll be free to go. We can go to the courthouse as soon as we get home. Rest after. Then have a wedding. I don't want you to feel rushed, it's just, I've known you since we were getting out of diapers. I don't think there's much more we need to wait for. The sun is dying. The stars are dying. So let's do it." He finally looked at you, dark blue eyes sparkling as he reached into his pocket. "If... If you want to." To your amazement, he pulled out a couple of plain gold rings.

Your eyes met his, astounded. "Grace--"

"I got them earlier. I figured now might not be the best time, but we were coming out here anyway, and--"

"Yes," you blurted, heart pounding against your ribcage. Grace, who wouldn't take risks, who didn't take leaps of faith, was doing this. For you. His only exception. "Yes, let's do it. Let's get married."

Grace beamed at you and pulled you in for an ecstatic, snowy kiss. One of the last ones you would ever share.

You stared at your ring. It was a size too large, so you'd kept it on a cord around your neck. You'd found it in your personal belongings after you'd woken up, with all of your pictures of Grace. You wondered sullenly if Grace would ever remember fully just how close you two were and how close you were to a future snatched away from you. A couple of frozen trees and a preserved puppy couldn't help that.

A part of you wondered if it would be better if he didn't remember. You were struggling as it was, knowing what you'd lost, but at least Grace wouldn't die without anyone he knew (even if he didn't realize it). If he remembered, it might be a little more depressing than what he already knows. It might throw him into a panic, an existential crisis, or worse.

Maybe he'd just fall in love with you all over again.

Maybe it was best he never did.

Maybe you never should have come along in the first place. What if your presence makes everything worse?

A sharp thud from underneath you made you jump, followed by a loud groan from Grace. "Grace?!" You crawled toward your makeshift curtain at the foot of your pod and pulled it away just in time to hear him scrambling out of his bed. He mumbled something incoherent as he stumbled out of his pod, hair disheveled and glasses askew. You stayed in your pod. "What?"

"There was a lady," He slurred groggily, trying to pull himself out of sleep by frantically rubbing his eyes. "She was with me, Y/N. In my trailer, on the base, on the ship, she was with me everywhere. I can't... I can't remember..." Grace wiped his hands down his face before turning a surprisingly accusing gaze on you, brow furrowed tightly enough to crunch the bridge of his nose. "You remember. You know who she was. What was her name? What did she look like?"

Your heartstrings snapped. "Grace..." You'd never seen him so distraught. So angry.

"I remember promising to save her stars, is that why I'm here? I don't even know if I did this for her! I don't have any pictures of her! Nothing!" He took a couple of steps closer, grabbing the curtain when you tried to put it back. "You remember, Y/N. You know who she was. Can you at least tell me her name?"

Your mouth moved on its own for a minute. If he was remembering, that was good, but... But it also meant he'd remember why he was here. You'd have a limited time to make the best of this death mission for him so that when he finally figures out why he's here, it might have less of an impact. But forcing memories on him might trigger it before he can set himself in the mission, before he finds out why Tau Ceti doesn't have a Petrova line. You sat back on your heels and sighed deeply through your nose, avoiding Grace's piercing gaze.

"Why won't you tell me anything?!" His voice cracked. It broke your heart.

"...Because... Forcing you to remember everything can hurt you, Grace. I can't tell you anything unless you remember it on your own." Grace stayed where he was for a moment before throwing the curtain back and climbing back down. You imagined he was probably running his hands through his hair before sinking to the ground. After a moment, you heard the rustling of his jumpsuit as he made his way for the lab. "...Grace..." The swish of fabric stopped as Grace listened. In your lap, you ran your thumb along the edge of the engagement ring he'd given you before launch. Your chest ached with the struggle of keeping your voice level. "She loved you. More than the stars you're trying to save..." Hot tears streaked down your face as you remembered everything you'd given to be with him. To die with him. "...More than life."

He was silent. Then he walked away. Shielded by the blackout curtain, you collapsed in a heap of silent, violent sobs.

SIX MONTHS LATER

"Dirty. Dirty. Dirty. Dirty. Why room so messy, question?"

"Well I wasn't exactly expecting company, was I?!"

"This room for garbage? Eughhh..."

You watched in awe from the sidelines as Rocky, in his xenonite ball, infiltrated the ship in his very polite, but also very blunt, sort of way. A part of you was worried you'd wake up tonight turned to meat paste because he actually was going to vaporize you both, but. Maybe he wouldn't.

You walked around him, utterly transfixed. Rocky paused, standing up straight on his five legs, almost like he was at attention as you circled him. "Y/N interested in Rocky technology, question?"

"Y/N," Grace hissed, "Don't encourage him!"

You ignored him. You felt kinda bad about it, but there was an alien on board the Hail Mary. A real alien. Sure, you'd met him in the tunnel, but to see him here was different. In the bright, sterile lighting of the lab, you could see all of the carven tattoos etched across his carapace and legs. "Wow..." You knelt beside him, aware of Rocky watching your every move. "You've gotta tell me all about these, buddy. If they're not private or anything. And if it's not rude to ask."

"Not rude," Rocky insisted, stamping a foot excitedly. "Whole purpose in shapes. Mmm... Need word..."

"Need word for what?" You tilted your head, investigating one particular mark that looked strangely like the Petrova line.

"Something big Rocky does sometime in life. Happen rare. Very celebrated." He began to slowly tap each of his legs together in thought.

"Accomplishments?" You tried, thinking of your own career. "Something somebody does like, once in a lifetime? Something big you've done with your life?"

"Yes! Y/N understand Rocky better than Grace."

"Hey!" Grace cried plaintively.

You chuckled and shook your head, moving over to the computer to input "accomplishments" into the translator. "Well... I did realize he was pointing before you did."

Grace rolled his eyes. "All of a microsecond before I did."

"What's this?" Rocky rolled into the evaporator when he tried to look at it, backing away rapidly as Grace rushed to keep it stable.

Exasperated, he grumbled, "That's the evaporator..."

Rocky, meanwhile, whirled around to continue investigating. "Rocky will build workshop here. Will need much room for Rocky, and much less space for Grace."

You scoffed, aghast. "What about me?!"

Rocky paused, as though considering your request, then turned toward the wall. "Y/N can have more room than Grace. Realized Rocky was pointing first."

"Hah!" You grinned triumphantly at Grace, who only rolled his eyes again.

"Can you go see what he destroyed on his way up here? Please? I heard some glass break and I couldn't stop to look."

"Yes, peasant." You mocked, and all but skipped away.

You and Grace were doing a bit better. He stopped bombarding you for answers when he realized you truly weren't going to give him any, and ever so slowly remembered that you two had known one another a long, long time. He remembered living together, at this point, but not that you were the lady he was dreaming about. He thought she was someone he'd met on base, because he still thought that Stratt only sent you too because she recruited you both at the same time.

He still didn't remember loving you. He was fully convinced you two were just roommates.

You put up some pictures of you two now, adding a bit of color to your sleeping pod; but you kept the pictures of you kissing or cuddling tucked safely under your bed still. It still hurt. It didn't make it any easier to know that your Grace was still lost in there somewhere. But piece by piece, he was coming back to you.

Slowly.

Rocky ran past you like a steamroller, Grace hot on his heels (Would you call them heels?). "Rocky! Wait! You can't just modify Mary!"

"Rocky will get belongings!"

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as they ran by. Well. Guess you'd just have a new friend now.

It's been a week or two since Rocky's come aboard, and you are holed up in your sleeping pod, running some experiment models before you try to sleep for a bit. Grace was still in the lab. For these last couple of days, you'd been switching shifts while trying to calculate the best possible route to Adrian. It seemed to be the best course of action to give you both ample rest. Rocky would roll back and forth, intent on watching whoever was sleeping at the time to keep them safe.

You heard the rumble of his ball into the dorm and smiled softly to yourself, anticipating what was coming next. "Y/N still using human thinking machine, statement." The musical notes rose softly behind the sounds of Rocky's translator. "Time sleep, time sleep. Human stupid when no sleep."

You chuckled to yourself and leaned out of your bunk, checking the loading screen with a frown. It still had halfway to go. "I've gotta wait for it to finish loading before I can turn it off. Then I'll sleep, I promise." Your wedding band swung out from under your tank as you leaned down, and hurriedly, you stuffed it back in your shirt, glancing around for Grace. Thankfully, he was nowhere in sight.

"Ooh," Rocky perked up, standing straight on all his legs. "Y/N wear metal, question? Why hide? Is private?"

"Uh..." Of all things, you hadn't guessed Rocky's curiosity would be your issue here. "It's a human thing."

Grumbling with frustration at your hesitance to answer, Rocky began to roll away. "Rocky will ask Grace."

You all but fell out of your bunk with how quickly you flailed out of it. "Rocky! Wait! I'll explain! Don't tell Grace!"

Rocky paused, confused as he turned to stand in front of you. You sat cross-legged on the floor, taking a deep breath as you tried to figure out the best way to explain it to him. "Y/N don't want Grace to know, why question?" He kept his vocals low, like he was whispering. You appreciated that.

You ran your hands down your face. "...Your mate, Rocky. Do you have... On Erid, do you guys have some kind of official bond to make everyone know you two are mates?"

Rocky tilted his carapace, clicking his fingers like he was thinking. Then his claws found a teal patch of rock on his shell, right near one of his elbows. "Yes. Exchange piece of carapace. Vow to stay together."

Grief tugged at your heart. You can't imagine being in Rocky's metaphorical shoes... Although really, you kind of are. Except that you didn't have to watch your crew's corpses in the hopes that they would wake up, and your "mate" has been with you the whole time. You pointed to the teal piece of his shell. "Humans have something like that. We call it marriage. We exchange rings to let everyone know we're spoken for."

Rocky gasped quietly, in awe."Y/N marriage, question?!"

"Not quite," You bit your lip until you tasted blood, fighting waves of memories that you'd tried to block until Grace remembered them first. Memories of laughter, of soft stolen kisses in the snow, memories you'd done everything in your power to ignore. You took a deep breath. "Well... Uh... We'd never got to the ceremony. We were forced onto the mission..." You realized your slip-up as it came out of your mouth and corrected yourself sloppily. "I had to go on the mission."

Rocky took a couple of steps closer, his translated voice surprisingly gentle. "...How long you with mate, question?"

You started picking at the fraying ends of your bracelet, trying not to choke on half-formed sobs. "All our lives. We were friends first. We were just friends for a long time. And then... Then the sun started dying. We realized we didn't have long left. So we promised to build a life together." Shaking your head, you looked down at your hands to try and hide the tears that fell of their own accord. "We didn't get to."

Rocky was silent for a few moments, processing all of the information you'd just told him. "Rocky... Sorry. Rocky sure you will be able to when you get back to Earth!" Ah, yes. Neither you nor Grace had the heart to tell him yet that it was a one-way mission.

A bit more aggressively than necessary, you wiped your tears away with the backs of your hands. "Thanks, bud."

Rocky clicked his fingers together again. "Y/N say that we had to go on mission." Oh boy. You should've known he'd catch your slip-up. You have no way out of it, now. You can only hope the alien can keep a secret. "Who we?"

Down the hall, there was a crash from the lab, followed by a hurried, "I'm okay! Just dropped something." Briefly, Grace came into your view as he picked up the scattered mess of tools he'd just knocked over.

As though understanding something, Rocky slowly turned to face you and dropped his sensor in astonishment. "Is Grace Y/N mate, question?!" He whispered it. Thank God.

But you couldn't lie to him. You resigned yourself to your fate, prayed you weren't doing the wrong thing, and nodded. "Yes, but--"

Panic set in as Rocky frantically began to roll toward Grace like a kid tattling on somebody. Your heart dropped. "Grace! Grace!"

You snatched his ball as Grace whipped around, concerned. "What is it, bud?"

"Rocky," You urged softly, "You cannot tell him. He doesn't remember. He has to remember on his own or it could hurt him, okay?"

Rocky whirled on you. "Hurt?! Bad?!"

"Yes. Bad."

"What is it?!" Grace rushed into the room, disheveled from clearly destroying by accident. He realized you were standing there and furrowed his brow, confused. "Why aren't you asleep? What's going on?"

Rocky, struggling to process this information, looked back and forth between you both wildly. You minutely shook your head, begging him not to say anything. "Uhhh... Uhhh..."

"Rocky?" Grace pressed, hands on his hips. "You alright, bud?"

Rocky threw two of his "hands" up and rolled away frantically. "Nothing! Rocky keep secret! Rocky not say anything!"

Grace watched him leave before whipping back around to you, pointing to the retreating alien accusingly. "What'd you say to him to make him freak out like that?"

You shrugged, trying to play it off. "He asked me a question, I answered. It was personal."

"Personal?" Grace arched a brow, disbelieving. "You told an interstellar alien something personal that made him lose his marbles and eject from the conversation?"

You shrugged again, pointing to the mess of a lab behind him. "Well, I see you decided to redecorate the lab."

Grace's shoulders slumped. "I knocked over a toolbox. I hoped it wouldn't wake you up, but I guess not."

"I never fell asleep, to be honest." You reached into your cot and pulled out the tablet, checking that the status was fine before shutting it off. "I'm too awake to sleep now. Let me help you clean up the lab."

Grace shot you a curious look over the gold rims of his glasses. "You aren't going to lie down, at least?"

"Nope." The adrenaline-inducing panic of almost destroying the entire social status of the ship kind of ruined that, you wanted to add. But you didn't, obviously.

After helping Grace clean up the lab, you noticed Rocky huddled by himself in a corner, watching you two. You approached him cautiously, honestly scared he might run away again. "Rocky keep secret," He whispered conspiratorially, but a little too loudly. You hurriedly shushed him as he added, "Grace will remember! Rocky have faith."

His voice, right behind you, made you jump near clean out of your skin. "'Grace will remember' what?" You spun around and came face-to-face with his chest, backing up rapidly when you realized just how close he was. Judging from the sharp look he was flashing between you both, he was very not happy about being kept out of the loop.

Understandably.

"What will Grace remember?"

"Grace mate," Rocky piped up helpfully. Or, he probably imagined he was quite helpful.

"My mate?" Grace echoed, turning his full attention to you. "Oh, so you mean the lady I can barely remember and keep asking you about, but you say you can't tell me who she is because it'll fry my brain or something? But you can tell the first alien you see, is that it?"

"Grace--"

"Rocky leave before Rocky tell." Wise decision on his part, really. You wanted to follow him, but Grace had backed you up against the xenonite enclosure and you didn't really have anywhere to go.

"Grace, what?" He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared down at you. "Grace, I can't tell you because it could hurt you? Grace, I just can't tell you? Grace, I'm making up every medical excuse I can not to tell you what I remember because the conversation is uncomfortable?" You very, very rarely saw him as snarky as this-- and he wasn't even being loud, or mean. He never was when he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this, he'd just called his superior a waste of carbon. "How about, Grace, I'm going to tell you what happened because we're in the middle of space, this can't possibly get any worse than it is already, and you deserve to know what's going on." He took a couple of steps closer, making escape impossible unless you climbed over the xenonite. Which, you were about to.

Plaintively, you held up your hands. "Listen--"

"No, you listen," Grace interrupted, "Let's finish up what we're doing and get some rest. We can go to the mental health bay and talk about it. You can't avoid this conversation forever, Y/N. I deserve to know who she is."

Surely, there was something that could get you out of this. Maybe if you pulled up a medical list of reasons why forcing a person with amnesia to remember things isn't a good idea, you could convince him that it really isn't worth it. Maybe you can get around the fact that you don't want to tell him because if he remembers what you two almost were, the life you almost had, the life you gave up to be with him in death... His deep blue eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.

If he remembers, it could entirely throw off his concentration on the mission to Tau Ceti E. It could ruin his drive to save Earth and Erid. But... If you got everything together, all your pictures and letters to each other and mementos... You'd figure it out. Yeah. You'd help him remember, then you'd figure it out. But what if he only sees me as a friend now? What if he doesn't want the love part anymore?

"Tomorrow night," You offered, catching yourself moving your fingers like Rocky moves his claws when he thinks. You squeezed your hand to stop it. You didn't realize you'd picked up on his mannerisms already. "Let me... Let me get some stuff together. I have pictures and notes and stuff."

Grace pulled his glasses to hang off of his right ear. His hands found his hips as he nodded meaningfully, a few crazy tufts of his dark brown hair bouncing against his forehead as he did so. A breath of relief left his chest, like he'd been holding it. "Okay, fine. I'll take it." As he turned away, he shot you a meaningful look over his shoulder. "We can meet in the mental health bay. Maybe put on a forest ambiance or something?"

"Sounds good," You squeaked. It didn't. It really didn't.

Now you either had to think of a way to get out of that awkward conversation and showing him all of the pictures, or you just had to face the music. You weren't entirely sure you could do either. Maybe you should just eject yourself from the airlock instead. You glanced over at Rocky, who was peering around the corner curiously. Enthusiastically, he gave you a thumbs-down (thumbs-up, for him). "Rocky have faith."

Good.

Because you certainly didn't.

You sat on the metal grate of the mental health bay, trying to fight your trembling hands as you stared at a field of wheat. The fans hidden in the walls projected a light breeze, tinted with the scent of something that could mimic summer on the American plains. It really was nice. It was the closest thing to Earth you'd ever have again, so, you supposed it had to be nice.

You folded your hands together on the small box sat in your lap. It contained everything you had that might make him remember who he is to you. What you were to him. God, you're so nervous right now. You take a deep breath when you hear his footsteps coming. Please, let this go well. Rocky had the good sense to stay in his habitat, working on some experiments of his own. You're more than certain he's probably listening, but at least he's pretending not to.

Grace enters the room quietly, like he's trying not to scare you. "Hey," He says softly, and remains where he is for a moment. You brace yourself with one final breath (perhaps your very last) and smile awkwardly at him. He's wearing his white flight suit. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he surveys the pretend fields of crops. "You're really tense, you know."

"Am I?"

"I can see you shaking." Grace watched you carefully before furrowing his brow. "You act like I'm gonna throw you out of the airlock if I don't like how this goes."

"You might."

Grace sighed, shaking his head, as he turned to the control panel and started flipping through options. The beach, which he surprisingly skipped. A moonlit forest. A mountain lake. He eventually landed on a pub. Soft, slow jazz music filled the air. Grace stopped. "Ooh. This one's nice." You fought a smile. Leave it to Grace to try and make something as comfortable as possible for everyone but himself. You're sure he would've preferred the beach. The lights dimmed to a soft, sleepy yellow. It felt like you were relaxing at an out-of-the-way pub in the 40s. The smell of old peeling paint, stale coffee, and cheap wine trickled out of the vents. It was comforting.

Grace was very full of surprises tonight. He leaned down and grabbed the box straight off of your lap before you could protest, setting it aside and out of the way. He grabbed you gently by your wrists and started pulling you to your feet. "You need to relax. If you're going to tell me news so horrific that I'm going to throw you out of the airlock, you need to tell me calmly. Maybe I'll be generous and not kill you."

"I am calm. I am definitely calm."

"Sure. I'm also the pilot of this ship."

"Well... Technically I mean, both of us are the pilots now..."

Grace made a face that said you were definitely joking about that subject too soon. He looked around at the fuzzy, floating lights of the out-of-focus pub. "Should we dance?"

Your heart jumped into your throat. You two used to slow dance all the time. At first it was for practice for his faculty events, where you'd always be his plus one, or vice versa. Then it was to relax after long work days, or just to be close to each other. But why not? The music was right. The mood was kind of okay, your heart was just about to leave your chest; not a big deal AT ALL.

Grace wrapped an arm around you with a bit of awkward finesse. He knew what to do, but his hand shifted for a moment before resting on your lower back like he was unsure where to put it. Like a well-oiled machine, your other hands linked with muscle memory alone, resting between your chests. Slowly, your bodies started to sway along to the drifting tunes of the jazz playlist.

Your mind, however, went somewhere else.

Your last dance before the explosion that caused all of this.

You and Grace were in your small trailer, dressed for a date you could never officially go on. You couldn't exactly leave base, but this was a celebratory dinner for just the two of you anyway. You were getting married in five days. What's not to celebrate? You wore something simple but nice, and he wore his teaching uniform-- he didn't exactly get to pack much else that was formal. He held you close, lovingly, like you meant the whole world to him. Like he couldn't get you close enough.

Grace's deep blue eyes locked on yours, filled with something like adoration. Like this dance was making him feel more than he remembered. "How long have we been friends, again?"

Deep breaths. Honesty is key here. Rocky have faith. This is the man you grew up with. He is most definitely not going to kill you. "We went to the same kindergarten." He nodded, urging you to go on, but his gaze trapping yours felt intense for some odd reason (it's not like you're going to tell the man you're in love with that forgot you that you were going to get married. No biggie.). You averted your eyes. "We quite literally grew up together. Every minute of every day, you were there."

Grace didn't seem fazed. "I pieced that one together. Mostly. I still don't remember everything." Good. Progress. Slow, but progress. For you, anyway. Lord it is hot in this room. Are you sweaty? Can he feel your hands are sweaty and still very much shaking?

Grace let his forehead fall against yours. "Crazy, huh? We're getting married? I didn't see that coming."

You tried, and failed, to suppress a giggle. "How is that more surprising than the sun dying?"

The memory seemed to echo in the mental health bay, like it was playing over the speakers. God, you just want to go curl up in your pod and avoid this. "Can't I just like... I don't know, write you a whole letter explaining everything instead and go on a spacewalk for a few hours?"

Grace chuckled at the preposterous suggestion. "What are you going to do on a spacewalk for hours?"

You stammered helplessly for a minute. "I... I-I don't know, I'll find something to do. I-I... I'll--"

"Figure it out?" He challenged softly, giving you pause. He said it pointedly. Meaningfully. Or were you imagining it?

Using only your eyes, you risked a glance up at him. Grace was staring at you, like he was scrutinizing cells under a microscope. He might as well have been.

Grace hummed thoughtfully as he leaned down to kiss you. "Yes. It's much more surprising."

You swallowed hard as Grace let go of your hand to push your sleeve down, pulling your half of the bracelet pair out of its hiding place pointedly. He wasn't looking at it. He already knew what it said. "Why'd you lie to me about the bracelets?"

Your heart fell. You'd hoped he'd have forgotten that. "I didn't think you'd remember we'd known each other that long, and I didn't want to freak you out."

"What about when the sun dies noticeably, Grace?" You whispered against his lips between kisses. "When the ice starts, and the food disappears, and everyone starts fighting?"

Grace half shrugged, making a point to tap your bracelet as he helped guide your arm around his neck. "We'll figure it out, remember?"

"Yeah. Guess we will." You smiled, utterly gone. You were over saturated in love, drowning in it, surrounded and smothered by this man's very presence alone. You leaned into his lazy kisses with hearts in your eyes as you leaned against him. "I love you, Ryland."

Grace let go of you like you'd suddenly caught fire, making you freeze. He took a few steps back, blue eyes wide as he silently took you in like he was seeing you for the first time. "Oh my God."

"What?" You squeaked, not daring to move. Don't throw me out of the airlock. He never would. But you had to have humor somewhere right now.

You could see his brain short circuiting as his hands flew up to his hair. He turned around and paced a few steps away. Very... worrying behavior to say the least. He stayed like that for a minute as your mind raced, raced back to the last time you'd seen him as himself, as your Grace and everything went so, so wrong... That night... That dance...

You two were a laughing mess as you fell back onto the bed in a heap. Grace was careful not to put his full weight on top of you, but ensured the kiss never broke. "God, I love you," He breathed, shrugging off his jacket.

Before you could blink, Grace whipped around and rushed to you, his hands finding your shoulders, elbows, face, like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. His eyes darted across every detail of your face, like he was trying to memorize you in real time. "Y/N," He tried, voice catching, "You... I..."

You waited. A bit impatiently, but you waited. "What?" You asked again, a bit more carefully.

Grace kissed you. Not sweet or slow or gentle, like you expected to happen, but like a man starved. You froze entirely, despite this being the man you were going to marry. Did he remember? Or did he just decide to kiss you anyway? He had to have remembered, right? You were overthinking. Genuinely, seriously overthinking, because the second you started to reciprocate it, he answered with deeper, more frantic kisses so strong you were sure they were going to bruise your lips.

"I missed you," He managed, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. "I missed you so much it hurt to breathe, and you were right. Here."

"Grace," You sobbed, heart clenching tightly in your chest as you threw your arms around his neck. He's back. He does remember. Your Grace is back.

Outside, lightning flashed. Odd, it was winter here. It might not be the right time, but it was weird. Breathlessly, as your fingers tangled in his hair, you managed, "Was that lightning? Here?"

Grace walked you backward without breaking apart until your back hit the wall. "I should be mad at you," He hissed, hands trailing fire down your arms, back, stomach, anywhere he could reach.

"You should," You agreed, wholeheartedly.

"You know what," He added, grasping for the zipper of your flight suit, "You're right, I should throw you out of the airlock."

"I-I'd probably agree to that right now too, honestly."

Grace trailed the kisses across your jaw, down your neck. The misplaced lightning was instantly forgotten. "I really do not care about that right now." He pushed the hem of your dress up, finding the crook of your knee to pull your leg over his hips. "Neither should you."

"I should hate you a little bit," Grace managed roughly as you worked on his own zipper. "Just a little. For like five minutes. After."

"Hate away," You replied, still stunned from the rapid turn of events and not at all completely coherent. He started to pull your suit down your shoulders, but paused. His fingers had caught on the chain around your neck, the one that held the engagement ring hiding under your tank.

Oh dear. "Grace--"

Grace yanked the chain up, revealing the ring. Recognition flashed across his face. Disbelief, confusion... Anger. His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he stepped back, leaving you feeling cold. "You weren't a part of the crew."

The windows burst inward, shattering and sending glass shards into your skin. Grace cried out, covering you as best as he could as the glass skipped across his back. Dust and debris flooded the trailer. You're pretty sure you screamed.

"Grace..." You could smooth this over. Definitely. The heat had died and the mood was unbelievably ruined, but you could fix this, right?

"Are you okay?! Are you okay?!" Grace felt you all over, checking for serious injuries the best he could. You both were on the floor. You'd been on the bed, how did you get here?

"I'm okay," You choked, scanning Grace for any injuries. Your brain took on hospital mode, and suddenly Grace was a patient instead of your future husband. Neither of you could hear very well, ringing in your ears and head as you tried to assess the damage. "Let me see your back.

"You weren't part of the crew," Grace repeated, voice falling as the realization hit him. He stumbled back a step. "There was an explosion. The lab. DuBois and Shapiro were vaporized."

A chill settled over you as the memory of racing for the remains of the lab with Stratt and Grace flashed vividly before your eyes, moments before everyone was separated and dragged to different bunkers in case of an attack. The last time you would see Grace until you woke up on the Hail Mary, he slipped you your engagement ring and told you he loved you.

And now here you were.

"No," You admitted finally, "I wasn't."

"Stratt asked me to go instead," Grace breathed, and a hole filled your chest. Stratt had told you everything she and her men had done in great detail, giving you all the information you asked for. Grace didn't remember any of that still. How he was forced on board, chemically restrained... He still thinks he chose this. "I must've... I must've went, obviously, but... You..."

Grace looked like he was going to be sick. He stumbled again as he backed away from you. "I told Stratt not to bring you into this. I... I told her to give you the means to buy that house..."

It seemed to dawn on him then.

The fatal reality of what you'd done.

"You chose this?"

"Grace--"

"You chose this?!" You hadn't heard him yell in a very, very long time. And certainly not at you.

"Ryland--"

A shadow fell over his face, his eyes darkening. "Don't 'Ryland' me, Y/N, you chose this! You chose to follow me-- you-- why would you do that?!"

You flinched, staying where you were as Grace stormed out of the room. The soft jazz took on a bitter light now as you hesitantly followed after him, the harsh light of the dorm making you wince as you stepped out of the mental health bay. "Grace," You choked back a sob, vaguely aware of Rocky entering in his ball, as quietly as possible.

Grace whirled on you, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed you by your elbows, tight enough to bruise. "WHY?!"

"I couldn't let you come alone!" You screamed back, letting the sobs come.

"You could have lived a normal life--"

"Not without you!" You couldn't. You died when Stratt told you he'd be gone. "I couldn't stop thinking about you dying up here alone, starving to death by yourself, I couldn't, Ryland, I can't live without you."

"Die?!" Rocky gasped, inserting himself. He went ignored for now, which hurt your heart, because the panic in his voice made you cry harder.

Grace shook you-- not hard, but he was definitely angry. Tears streamed down his face. "Why?! Why would you do that for me?! I would've been better knowing you were safe, Y/N, and now I have to watch you die! I have to watch the woman I love die, and there's nothing I can do about it! Why would you do this?!"

"Because Stratt asked me if I wanted to go, and the thought of a life without you was worse than the thought of dying with you!" You countered, shoving him with all of your strength; not that he budged at all. "Stop shaking me!"

Rocky saved the day, rolling between you two with the force of a steamroller that forced Grace to release you. "Stop fight! Stop! Warning!" He brandished one arm like a scorpion, striking the air in Grace's direction. The teacher turned away from both of you, hands tangling in his hair as he tried to breathe evenly. "Why mad, anger question?! Rocky mate on Erid. Rocky not see mate in 46 years. Rocky would give anything for mate to be here. Better together. Alone bad bad bad. Sad, statement. Better together anyway." Rocky stomped his foot several times. "What mean die, question? You lie?!"

"We... we lightly veered away from the truth," you managed through the tears you were trying to calm. "We didn't want to scare you, Rocky. I'm sorry."

Grace inputted then, reluctantly turning around with his hands on his hips. "We had enough astrophage to get here, but not enough to get home." Grace leaned down to address him on his eye level as Rocky worriedly stomped. "Look, we got to meet you, we got to do all this amazing stuff--"

"No," Rocky protested, shaking his carapace like one might shake their head. "No, no."

"I had made peace with it," Grace pointedly shot a glare your way.

"What mean? What mean make peace?!" Rocky was visibly distressed now, staring hopelessly at Grace.

"It means..." Grace searched for the right words, "It means I know I'm not going home. I know why. And it's okay." It was a front, you realized. He was putting on the same brave face he put on for his students when he told them about astrophage even though it was tearing him up to imagine them dealing with the effects of the sun dying. Rocky didn't move, didn't say anything. Grace experimentally lifted a hand for a thumbs-up. "Thumbs up?"

"No."

"Tiny thumbs-up?"

"No."

Grace's breath hitched as he stood up. "Come on. We've got stars to save." You stared hopelessly at Grace. He wouldn't even look at you now, which tore your heart apart. "I need space for a few minutes, though," He said, hanging his glasses on his shirt. "I'll be uh... In the cockpit. But I need a minute. I need to process." Grace turned away, a heaviness clinging to his shoulders that he tried to hide from Rocky.

"Grace?"

"Yeah?" He paused, putting on the facade again.

"You Y/N are..." Rocky stomped his foot in frustration. "Need word."

"What word do you need?" You rasped, leaning against his enclosure.

"To risk self? To help other?" Rocky tried.

"Dumb?" Grace scoffed meaningfully. You narrowed your swollen eyes at him as he made his way to the computer; just barely, you saw the word he typed into the translating system.

Brave.

You sank to the floor as Grace made his way into the hall, trying to swallow your ugly sobs into silence. This had gone exactly as badly as you'd anticipated. Your entire chest hurt as you struggled to contain your grief for your life lost that you could now openly mourn, and for what would surely be the biggest argument you two would ever face.

Rocky lightly tapped one of his legs twice, fingers twitching rapidly as he moved closer to you. "How much astrophage you need, question?"

Grace stopped at the end of the hallway, reaching up to lean against its frame. He didn't turn around as he answered, a resigned sigh escaping his lungs. "2 million kilograms."

You wiped your face with your sleeve, taking a shaky breath as you composed yourself. You thought of the frozen dog and realized that even if you did unfreeze her at any point, she'd starve just like you two would. You weren't sure if you could subject her to that, but you wondered if there would be any way to grow some of the seeds from the vault. But even if you could bypass starvation, the ship would eventually run out of power, and then life support. You faced a painful--

"I can give." You froze at Rocky's words. So did Grace. Rocky looked between you two (or, it appeared he did), tapping his claws as he awaited your answer. "I go home six years slower."

"That's too much," Grace managed, voice strangled. You heard it, though: Hope. You didn't dare speak, not trusting yourself to keep from bursting into tears again.

As though to emphasize his point, Rocky used the handholds in his xenonite enclosure to come closer. "Rocky watch crew die. Could not fix." Your head fell forward as the sorrow clinging to his words ripped a choked sob from your throat. "Grace say Grace Y/N will die. Rocky fix." Grace emerged from the shadows of the hall with tears streaming down his face. Hopeful. Scared. Rocky tapped the xexonite pointedly. "Grace Y/N go home."

Silence, broken by half-stifled crying, filled the room for a moment. "Okay." Grace finally said, his trembling legs giving out as he sat down on one of the metal chests. His hands found his face as he bit back tears that came anyway.

The house. The dog. Trees, rain, wind, the wide open sky, home. You can go home. You can have the life with Grace you always wanted. But Rocky will go back slower. He's giving six years of his life for you. It hurt. There was no easy way through this. "Rocky," You breathed, and he turned toward you. You couldn't find the words, you couldn't make yourself talk to this alien who was giving a chunk of his life to save you two.

"Thank you," Grace choked, finishing your attempted gratitude for you. It felt like a very small, very weak thanks in the face of what Rocky was doing for you.

"Oh, Hail Mary," You breathed, not hailing the ship but the old life you left behind on Earth, echoed by your parents when something truly incredible or unbelievable happened. Words you said shortly before giving up life on Earth for the man you loved.

A beat passed, then another. Both of you were still crying, but neither of you had moved. "I thought Grace made peace, question?"

"I didn't mean any of that," Grace admitted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That's just something you say." Grace heaved a shaky, teary breath. "Thank you." His deep blue eyes found yours, this time without the vague recollection and straining to figure out who you were. He knew exactly who you were now. He adjusted his arm slightly and you knew instantly want he wanted.

Without hesitation, you launched yourself across the space between you and threw your arms around his neck as he closed his arms around you in a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I love you," He breathed against your skin.

"I love you too," You managed before letting your sobs loose into his shoulder. Home, home, home. You don't have to die. You can go home.

Your embrace only lasted a moment before Grace had another idea. Shifting away from you, he kept one arm around you while he threw the other one around Rocky's xenonite ball with a hoarse laugh. "Come here." You followed suit, extending an arm around the other side while keeping a firm hold of Grace with the other.

Rocky, meanwhile, panicked. "W-whoa, whoa, what is happening question?!"

"It's called a hug, Rock," You explained.

"Oh."

At his silence, Grace added, "It's usually not something one does by themselves."

"Rocky hug too, question?"

"Would you just get in here?" You chuckled.

Hesitantly, Rocky leaned forward and pressed his carapace against the xenonite. You and Grace faced one another, each with a cheek pressed against the ball. You felt Rocky's heat through the material and smiled; Grace rubbed a few comforting circles in your back.

"How do you know when the hug is over, question?" Rocky tentatively asked.

"You just kinda feel it," Grace answered softly, lost in your eyes.

"Is Grace feeling it, question?"

"Nope."

"Is Y/N feeling it?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah."

You couldn't help but laugh, but you were absorbed in Grace's azure gaze and the warmth of the embrace. You were going to get to live on that farm and stargaze for the rest of your life, with an unfrozen Laika. You were going to get to marry him. You were going to get to die of old age (if you don't die on the mission itself).

But, Grace was right.

First, you had stars to save.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm so sorry about the wait, and for dragging it into a Part 3, but I think you guys will like where this goes!

you step into minseok’s pristine office, already feeling the weight of impending doom. the polished chrome desk, minimalist decor, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manhattan scream authority. unfortunately, the man sitting behind the desk—a seasoned negotiator with a no-nonsense attitude—screams something else: stress.

minseok gestures for you to sit, and your stomach drops when you see baekhyun already lounging in the chair across from him. he’s got that laid-back, insufferably confident posture, as if he owns the whole damn office. his tie is casually loosened, jacket tossed over the back of the chair like he’s at a bar instead of a meeting. he twirls a pen between his fingers with a carefree smirk, completely at ease as though this were some casual hangout, not an important work discussion.

your blood boils a little as you can’t help but notice how good he looks. it's infuriating—he looks effortlessly sharp in that tailored suit, the kind of guy who knows exactly how to make everything he wears look like it was meant for him. but it only adds to how much you hate him. everything about him rubs you the wrong way, especially when he knows exactly how to push your buttons without even trying.

“perfect timing,” minseok says, glancing between the two of you. “i’m glad you’re both here.”

you sit down reluctantly, throwing baekhyun a pointed glare. he meets your eyes, his slow, cocky grin widening in response. 

“as you're both aware,” minseok begins, his tone serious, “our company, inb100, is on the verge of finalizing a crucial merger with kim corp. this partnership has the potential to redefine our future, expanding our reach and solidifying our position in the global market. the board is counting on us to ensure this merger goes off without a hitch. we need a strong, unified front to manage every detail and make sure everything aligns perfectly. that's where the two of you come in.”

“us two?” you repeat, narrowing your eyes in disbelief, the words tasting as bitter as they sound.

minseok nods, his expression calm, though the weight of his words lingers heavily in the room. “yes, you’ve consistently proven yourself to be one of our sharpest,” he says, his tone steady. then, shifting his attention to baekhyun, he continues, “and baekhyun, your financial analysis throughout this merger has been exceptional. as heads of your respective departments, it’s logical to assign you two to spearhead this project together.”

“exceptional,” baekhyun repeats, leaning back in his chair with a grin that’s equal parts smug and infuriating. he lets the word hang in the air like a trophy. then, with an exaggerated sweetness, he shifts his gaze to you. “you hear that, sweetheart? i’m exceptional.”

you roll your eyes, the movement sharp enough to cut. “yeah, well, even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then.”

his laugh comes easily, warm and unbothered, which only fuels your irritation. “oh, so you’re admitting i’ve got something worth finding?” he teases, leaning forward just enough to make his smirk even more unbearable. “i’m flattered. really.”

you pointedly ignore his comment, pivoting back to minseok as you try to make sense of this ridiculous pairing. “i’m sorry,” you say slowly, your voice a mix of disbelief and barely restrained irritation. “us two? as in me and baekhyun?”

minseok lets out a long, exasperated sigh, briefly closing his eyes as though regretting every life choice that led to this moment. he pinches the bridge of his nose before answering, his tone clipped. “yes, as in you and baekhyun... unfortunately.”

your jaw drops, and before you can stop yourself, your voice rises. “oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

baekhyun sits up straighter, his smirk vanishing as he frowns. “the fuck you mean, ‘unfortunately’?” he interjects, indignant. “i’m a goddamn asset to this company.”

“an asset?” you snap, turning to him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “you’re a walking liability.”

“alright, look,” minseok snaps, cutting through your bickering like a knife. “this isn’t optional. you’re both going to work together, and you’re going to make this merger happen without killing each other—or giving me a migraine.”

the room falls silent, except for the sound of baekhyun clicking his pen with obnoxious precision. he glances at you, his smirk creeping back like clockwork. “well,” he says, voice dripping with mock sincerity, “looks like we’re stuck together, partner.”

you grit your teeth, wishing for nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. instead, you flash a tight smile and mutter under your breath, “yeah, lucky me.”

“stop,” minseok interjects. “i don’t have time for either of your antics. this is a very high-stakes deal, and you’ll need to work together professionally.”

you lean forward, gripping the edge of your seat. “sir, with all due respect, are you sure there’s no one else available that i can work with? someone with a shred of self-awareness, perhaps? hmm? maybe kyungsoo?”

baekhyun gasps mockingly, placing a hand over his chest. “wow, that’s the thanks i get for stepping in when you were about to miss your deadline for the ad campaign?”

you narrow your eyes at him. “missed? i wasn’t about to miss anything.”

he raises an eyebrow, smirking even more. “oh really? because i distinctly remember you practically pulling your hair out over that presentation. but, hey, no big deal. i was just the one who swooped in, fixed your last minute errors, and made sure everything got delivered on time.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “oh, please. fixed? more like rearranged everything i worked on just to make it fit your ‘vision.’”

baekhyun shrugs nonchalantly. “well, it worked, didn’t it? the client loved it. you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

minseok’s palm meets the desk with a resounding thud, the sharp sound cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. you and baekhyun both jolt in your seats, your bickering silenced mid-breath.

“enough!” minseok’s voice is sharp, commanding, and leaves no room for argument. his eyes dart between the two of you, his patience clearly worn thin. “you’re both flying to hawaii in four days to seal the deal with kim corp. i don’t care if you need to hold hands, build a sand replica of the empire state building, or host a group therapy session on the beach—figure it out and make it happen.”

“hawaii?!” you and baekhyun say in unison, though your tones couldn’t be more different. yours is filled with disbelief; his is downright gleeful.

“yes, hawaii. the big island,” minseok sighs, rubbing his temples, clearly done with the constant bickering between you and baekhyun. “baekhyun, handle all the travel arrangements and accommodations.”

“in four days?” you squeak, the shock clearly written across your face. “b-but tomorrow's christmas!”

“and if you're both efficient, maybe you'll wrap things up before new year's,” minseok adds dryly, his voice edged with impatience.

you can't help but groan, dragging your hands down your face in disbelief. “this—this is a joke, right? can’t it wait until after the holidays?”

minseok shakes his head, his expression firm. “afraid not. both our board members and kim corp. are pushing to have this done as quickly as possible.”

the room falls into a tense silence. you blink at him, unsure whether to be more insulted by the lecture or horrified at the prospect of spending a week in paradise with baekhyun. meanwhile, baekhyun—ever the instigator—leans back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“‘hold hands’, huh?” baekhyun drawls, casting you a teasing sidelong glance. his lips curve into a smirk, clearly amused by the idea. “what do ya say, sweetheart? should we start now?” he extends his hand toward you, fingers wiggling as if he’s daring you to take it.

you shoot him a withering glare, your patience wearing thin. you slap his hand away with a swift, practiced motion, but he just chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this.

minseok lets out a frustrated groan, rubbing his temples in exasperation, face twisted with a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “get the fuck out of my office. both of you. now.” 

as you storm out of minseok’s office, the sharp click of your heels echoing down the hallway, baekhyun effortlessly falls into step beside you. his hands are tucked casually into his pockets, and he’s whistling a jaunty tune that only fuels your irritation.

“looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of quality time together, sweets,” he says, his tone practically dripping with amusement.

you don’t even spare him a glance, your eyes locked on the corridor ahead. “oh, i know, right?” you say, layering your voice with a fake, perky enthusiasm, clapping your hands together as if you couldn’t be more thrilled. “finally!”

out of the corner of your eye, you catch baekhyun’s reaction—his smile widens, stretching farther than you’ve ever seen, and for a split second, there’s something vulnerable in it. it’s as if your little act has caught him off guard, and maybe, just maybe, it’s made him feel a little… touched.

you continue, “maybe we can even do one of those excursions while we’re there... like a boat tour around the island or something?”

baekhyun blinks, clearly thrown by the shift in your tone. his usual cocky demeanor falters for just a second, a hint of pink creeping up his neck. “r-really?” he stammers, his voice softer, less certain. he runs a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck as he stumbles over his words. “i... i can look into it.”

your smile doesn’t falter. in fact, it only grows, but now there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes. “yeah! and maybe while we’re out there, i can push you off the boat and into the ocean. and maybe, just maybe, i’ll finally be free of you.”

you both come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hallway, the tension between you palpable. baekhyun’s expression is a study in exaggerated betrayal—his jaw slack, eyes wide, and brows lifted as if you’ve just struck a fatal blow.

“ouch, sweetheart,” he says after a beat, his voice low and laced with wounded amusement. “you really had me going there.” he straightens with an air of mock dignity, brushing off your jab with a shrug that’s almost convincing.

but, of course, baekhyun can’t resist adding more. “even if you did push me off the boat,” he continues, a mischievous glint sparking in his dark eyes, “hate to break it to you, but i can swim.” he leans in slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially as if sharing a secret. “word around the office, though, is that little miss head of the marketing department wouldn’t know what to do if she fell in.”

your brow arches sharply, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. crossing your arms over your chest, you fix him with a look so dry it could evaporate water. “we live in new york city, baekhyun. why the fuck would i ever need to know how to swim?”

there’s a brief pause before you tilt your head, the corner of your mouth twitching into something that barely resembles a smile. “congratulations, though,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “does the head of the finance department expect a medal or something?”

the corner of baekhyun’s mouth twitches, just enough to give you a glimpse of that infuriating, signature smirk of his. it’s the kind of smile that makes your stomach do flips, even though you’d rather be annoyed by it. but there's something about it—something you can't quite place—that pulls you in.

“sure,” he drawls, his voice smooth as velvet as he leans in a little closer. his face lowers until it's dangerously close to yours, making your breath catch in your throat. “i’ll take any kind of medal, especially if it’s comin’ from you, sweetheart.”

the air between you both feels thick with tension, his proximity almost dizzying. you force yourself to stay composed, a rush of heat crawling up your neck. “careful what you wish for, baekhyun,” you warn, your voice sharp, but there's the faintest tremor in it that betrays your cool front. “i might just hit you across the head with it.”

he laughs then, a deep, rolling sound that vibrates through your chest, somehow managing to be both incredibly irritating and impossibly charming. the way it lingers in the air is so annoyingly contagious that you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling.

the week hadn’t even started yet, and already, you were plotting how best to drown him in the ocean. for real this time.

the plane touches down with a soft jolt, and you can't help but groan under your breath. another business trip, another round of dealing with baekhyun's antics. as the seatbelt sign flickers off, you push yourself out of your seat, eyes already narrowing at him when you catch sight of his casual posture as he stands up and stretches, completely unbothered. typical.

“are you always this annoying, or is it just me?” you mutter, moving past him in the aisle.

baekhyun grins like he’s too pleased with himself. “you’re the only woman on this earth who’s immune to my charm, sweetheart. so yeah, it’s just you.”

you roll your eyes and trudge toward the door, where he follows right behind you, humming his ridiculous tune like he doesn’t have a care in the world. the last thing you need is to spend a whole week in his company, but here you are, stuck with him—again.

when you step into the airport terminal, you let out a long sigh. your heels click against the smooth floor as you make your way toward baggage claim. you’re half-focused on the carousel when baekhyun sidles up beside you, that damn grin still plastered on his face.

“so, what’s the hotel you booked for us?” you ask, feigning innocence, but already bracing yourself for whatever ridiculous answer he’s about to give.

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, twirling his bag strap like he’s the most important person in the world. “oh, i found us the perfect place. a real gem.” he pauses for dramatic effect. “one-star motel, just for you, babe.”

you elbow him in the ribs with a sharp jab, the motion automatic. you can’t even look at him for too long without feeling your frustration grow. he chokes on a laugh, pretending to be hurt as he leans away from you, clutching his side.

“okay, okay,” he says through the laughter, “i was kidding. i got us the ritz. you deserve no less, right?”

your eyes narrow in disbelief. “the ritz? really? you?”

he gives you a sly look, the same irritating grin still there. “what? don’t act so surprised. i’ve got taste.”

you roll your eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh, before your attention is abruptly yanked away by a very familiar figure standing just a few feet away from the carousel. your heart sinks, the sight of him instantly clouding your thoughts. jongin. your ex. the one who shattered your heart last year. the last person you ever expected to run into here.

jongin’s gaze flickers over to you, and a smug smile curls at the corners of his lips. “well, well, well,” he says, his voice smooth, laced with that same confident edge you remember so well. “what are the odds, huh? i didn’t think i’d be bumping into you of all people.”

your breath catches in your throat, and you can’t stop the small ache that forms in your chest, the memories flooding back despite your best efforts to push them down. he steps closer, his eyes scanning you, like he’s inspecting every inch of you as if he’s trying to figure out how you’ve changed. or maybe how he hasn’t.

“jongin?” you whisper, the name slipping from your lips in disbelief.

he quirks an eyebrow, a slight frown pulling at his features. “‘jongin?’” he repeats, his voice laced with surprise, “it was always ‘nini’ to you.”

you glance down at your feet, a sudden shyness washing over you. “it’s been a while,” you murmur, your voice barely above a breath.

“indeed, it has,” he replies, his gaze never leaving you, and this time it feels almost like heat. there’s a pause before he adds, his voice low, yet dripping with that familiar cocky edge, “you look... even better than i remember.” his grin curls up, just as self-assured as it always was.

you fight the urge to roll your eyes, though you can’t quite suppress the bitterness rising in your throat. you were fine without him, you remind yourself, but it’s hard to stay completely unaffected when he looks at you with that same damn smug expression.

“maybe fate’s decided we should reconnect. who knows what could come of it, right?” jongin continues, his voice teasing, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

before you can even think of a response, baekhyun steps in, his presence suddenly right at your side. without missing a beat, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him in a way that has you blinking up at him, completely thrown off by his sudden boldness. he looks at jongin, coolly meeting his gaze.

“sorry, don’t think we’ve met,” baekhyun says, his voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness that’s anything but genuine. he tightens his arm around your waist just enough that you can feel the shift in his posture, like he’s pulling you into his orbit. his eyes flicker briefly to you before he meets jongin’s gaze again, sharp and calculating. “who are you?”

“relax, buddy,” jongin chuckles, clearly unfazed, though there’s an edge to his voice. “can’t a man talk to an old fling?”

baekhyun's smirk widens, but there’s a shift in his expression that sends a shiver creeping down your spine. his eyes narrow, no longer playful or teasing, but dark—almost predatory. the air around him seems to thicken, charged with something dangerous. 

“of course he can,” he says, his voice smooth, almost too calm, but beneath the words lingers an undeniable edge. “just not when she's with her new boyfriend.” his eyes sharpen, scanning jongin from head to toe, the silent challenge in his stare unmistakable. “you understand, don’t you?”

boyfriend.

the word hits you like a slap. your mind blanks, then fills with the echo of that single word—boyfriend. boyfriend. boyfriend. it loops in your head, drowning out the noise around you.

you blink up at baekhyun, your pulse quickening as you try to process what just happened. the air between you seems to thicken, and for a moment, you’re unsure whether you’ve heard him right. but before you can gather your thoughts, his thumb brushes against the exposed skin of your shoulder in a slow, deliberate motion, grounding you, pulling you back to the present.

“and trust me,” baekhyun continues, his voice still light, but there’s an edge of something in it now—something that sounds like possession. “she’s long forgotten your sorry ass. so no need to be ‘reconnecting’ anything. isn’t that right, my girl?”

you freeze for a beat, your brain scrambling to put together something that sounds convincing. you feel your heart thudding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears as you fight the strange, rising panic. why did he say that? your throat tightens as you try to process, to find some semblance of normalcy in this chaotic moment.

“ah, uh—y-yeah,” you stammer, the words sticking in your throat. you clear it quickly, hoping to mask the sudden shake in your voice. “jongin, this is baekhyun, my... boyfriend.” you gesture from jongin to baekhyun, your hand feeling oddly heavy.

the way you say it feels strange, as if the word boyfriend doesn’t quite fit, but the sincerity in baekhyun’s arm around you, the warmth of his touch, makes it feel... real.

you barely register jongin’s sharp inhale or the way his expression falters for a split second. baekhyun’s grip on you tightens for a moment before he leans down, his lips brushing your forehead in a quick, almost teasing kiss.

“we’re actually here for new year's, you know,” baekhyun says, his voice laced with a sweetness that you can’t quite shake off. “my girl can’t stand the cold back home, so we thought we’d escape for a bit.”

you glance up at baekhyun, trying to process how he knows exactly how much you hate the cold.

jongin stands there for a moment, the sharp glint in his eyes betraying the thoughts running through his mind. but before he can say anything more, his driver arrives, and he quickly shifts, offering a lazy smile as he turns to leave.

“well, that’s me,” he says, his voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and something darker, like he's savoring the moment. “as much as this reunion’s been... lovely, the ritz doesn’t wait, right? good luck with your little relationship, though. she’s only worth the first few rounds, by the way,” he adds, giving baekhyun a light slap on the shoulder, before his gaze shifts to you—cold, dismissive, and pointed.

with that, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving the two of you standing there in a thick, uncomfortable silence. you exhale slowly, trying to shake off the tension that’s still hanging in the air.

baekhyun doesn’t release you, his arm staying firmly around your waist as he tugs you closer, the heat from his touch making the knot in your stomach tighten.

you shift uncomfortably, your voice barely above a whisper. “baekhyun? why... why did you do that?”

baekhyun shrugs, eyes avoiding yours as a cocky smirk spreads across his face. “he was a dick. and frankly, i’m the only one allowed to be a dick to you, sweetheart.”

you scoff, but the irritation quickly fades, especially with how close he’s standing. his presence is magnetic—infuriatingly comfortable, and you find it hard to stay mad when you’re this close to him.

“w-wait—” you stammer, hurrying to keep up with baekhyun as he walks toward the luggage carousel. you watch him reach for the bags, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the defined muscles of his forearms as he moves effortlessly. as much as you’re tempted to linger on the sight of his bare forearms and the veins that run along them, your thoughts are still tangled in the conversation you just left behind. “he said he’s going to the ritz?”

baekhyun pauses, his fingers wrapping around the handle of your suitcase as he turns to glance back at you. his brow arches slightly, and there’s a fleeting flicker in his expression—something sharp, maybe irritation or even jealousy, though you can’t quite pinpoint it. it’s subtle, but it’s there, simmering beneath his calm exterior. “yeah? and?”

you falter, the realization crashing into you like a freight train. “you… you booked our stay at the ritz.”

the words hang in the air, and for a second, baekhyun doesn’t respond. instead, he straightens, pulling your suitcase off the carousel with a practiced ease before grabbing his own. his movements are unhurried, deliberate, like he’s giving himself time to decide how to respond.

finally, he lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm but edged with amusement. “oh, i see what you mean now.” his gaze flickers to you, his lips curving into that infuriatingly cocky smile. “what? you worried about running into him again? don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that asshole.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively. “no, i’m not hung up on him. it’s just…weird. what are the odds, right?”

baekhyun shrugs, completely unfazed. “doesn’t matter, sweets. it’s the ritz. i booked it because you deserve nothing less. if he’s staying there too, that’s his problem, not ours.” he smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that always manages to irritate and disarm you all at once. “besides, if he shows up, i’ll just remind him who you’re with now.”

his words hang in the air, casual but loaded, and you’re left staring at him, your cheeks heating as you struggle to come up with a response. typical baekhyun—always leaving you flustered and one step behind.

the car ride to the hotel is the kind of moment you’d want to capture forever. the windows are rolled down, letting the warm, golden sunshine pour in, and the tropical breeze carries the scent of saltwater and plumeria. you lean your head back against the seat, letting your eyes flutter closed for just a second as the warmth kisses your skin. it feels almost unreal, the stark contrast to the biting cold and slate-gray skies of new york city that you left behind.

cold never suited you.

you’d always hated bundling up in layers, the way your breath fogged up the air, and how the snow turned into a slushy mess on the sidewalks. you hated it all. and yet, somehow, baekhyun knew.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to piece it together. he’s relaxed in the driver’s seat, one hand loosely gripping the steering wheel while the other rests on the open window’s edge. his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and his hair is ruffled slightly from the breeze. he looks completely at ease, like he belongs in this setting, soaking up the sun and radiating that same kind of effortless warmth.

“you’re quiet,” he says, breaking the silence. his voice is light, teasing, but not overbearing. “cat got your tongue, or are you just enjoying my company?”

“yeah, you wish,” you quip back, but there’s no real bite in your tone. your gaze drifts out the window, watching the palm trees blur past. “it’s just… nice here. warm. i like it.”

“better than new york, huh?” baekhyun grins, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before focusing back on the road. “figured you’d like it here.”

you blink, caught off guard. “you… figured? what do you mean?”

he shrugs, his casual demeanor just a little too smug for your liking. “you complain about the cold every chance you get,” he says, ticking off each point like a laundry list. “you show up to work in like three coats, a scarf, a beanie, gloves—and don’t even get me started on that sauna of an office you keep. every time i have to drop off paperwork, i’m convinced i’m walking into a tropical rainforest.”

“oh.” your frown deepens, a flicker of embarrassment creeping in. you hadn’t realized your habits were that obvious, but then again, this is baekhyun—he notices everything, even the things you wish he wouldn’t.

“besides,” he continues, his tone softening, “you deserve a break. and yeah, i know you’d probably rather be on this trip with some other loser from work, but…” his eyes flick to yours briefly, something playful but sincere lingering there, “i figured at least the weather would make you happy.”

and you are happy, you realize, though admitting it feels like giving him too much credit. the sun, the warm breeze, the open windows—it’s all so far removed from the icy grind of your usual routine. the air feels lighter here, and maybe, just maybe, so do you.

you glance at him again, catching the slight curve of his lips, that telltale satisfied smile that says he knows he got this one right. it’s annoying, really, but for once, you can’t summon the energy to fight him on it.

“thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely cutting through the rush of the wind outside.

he doesn’t miss a beat. “‘course,” he says, his smile widening like he’s been waiting for you to say it. then, because he’s baekhyun, he adds, “but hey, if you want to admit i’m the best coworker ever, i won’t stop you.”

you roll your eyes, but even that feels easier here. you settle back against the seat, the sun warming your skin, and let yourself enjoy the moment—just this once.

the lobby buzzes with the energy of holiday travelers—laughter, the distant sound of luggage wheels, the soft clinking of champagne flutes from the bar nearby. you and baekhyun stand at the concierge desk, your patience already wearing thin as the desk clerk types furiously into their computer.

“ah, yes,” the clerk says, glancing up with a polite smile. “we have you booked for one room—honeymoon suite, king bed.”

you blink. “i’m sorry, what?”

“the honeymoon suite,” they repeat, a tinge of unease creeping into their voice as they register your disbelief. “with one king bed.”

“that can’t be right,” you say, your tone sharp enough to slice through the holiday cheer around you. “honeymoon suite? are you sure you pulled up the right reservation? we’re here on a work trip, not a honeymoon. i’m sure we were supposed to have two rooms?”

the clerk’s smile falters, replaced by a wince of sympathy. “i’m so sorry,” she says, her voice overly apologetic. “the reservation only shows one room—the honeymoon suite. and unfortunately, we’re completely booked because of the holidays, so i can’t offer you any additional rooms. however, there is a sofa bed in the suite,” she adds, as though that detail might soften the blow.

it doesn’t.

you pivot on your heel, fixing baekhyun with an incredulous glare. your expression says it all: are you kidding me? meanwhile, he looks as relaxed as ever, one hand casually resting on the counter, the other in his pocket. the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is enough to make your blood boil.

“baekhyun,” you hiss, your voice low enough to avoid drawing attention but packed with enough fury to cut through his smug demeanor—or so you hope. “what the hell happened, king of the fucking finance department? you were in charge of the booking.”

he meets your gaze, his smirk growing into something downright infuriating. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver, just stands there like he owns the place, completely unbothered. and for a split second, you think he might actually find your irritation entertaining.

he blinks at you, eyes wide with mock shock as he lets out an exaggerated gasp. “i could have sworn i booked two rooms.”

your jaw tightens, your glare sharp enough to pierce through steel, but he doesn’t so much as flinch. instead, he turns back to the clerk, his tone smooth and unbothered. “oh well,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, as though sharing a bed is the most natural thing in the world. “it’s fine. we’ll make it work.”

before you can even open your mouth to protest, he plucks the two room keys off the counter, his lips curving into a disarmingly charming smile. “thanks so much!” he says, his voice all honey and confidence, before grabbing your belongings and striding toward the elevators like he’s just won a prize.

you stand there, rooted to the spot, half-fuming and half-stunned, before your feet finally propel you forward. your steps are quick and purposeful as you catch up to him. “baekhyun, i swear—”

he lets out a dramatic sigh, leaning against the elevator wall. “look, this was a pretty impromptu trip,” he explains, his voice taking on a softer tone, though the glint in his eye tells you he’s not entirely innocent. “we only found out about it a few days ago and it was the best—and only—room available. sorry, sweets.”

you narrow your eyes at him, lips pressed into a tight line. “‘sweets’? seriously, baekhyun, you need to cut it with the cute pet names before i smother you in your sleep tonight.”

he raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “what? you wouldn’t do that to your boyfriend, would you?” he teases, the words dripping with amusement as his grin grows wider.

the moment you step into the room, you're hit with its effortless elegance. the soft, golden light of the hawaiian afternoon floods in through the large windows, casting a warm glow across the expansive suite. the walls are decorated with modern art that feels both stylish and inviting, while the floors are covered in a plush cream-colored rug that matches the dark wood furniture. a massive king-sized bed dominates the room, draped in crisp white linens with fluffy pillows stacked high. to your left, there’s a sleek glass-walled shower and a soaking tub that looks out over the coast. it’s a peaceful, luxurious space, and for just a moment, you forget all the chaos of the check-in.

you sigh contentedly and make a beeline for the bed. it’s so inviting, the mattress looking impossibly soft, the kind of bed you can sink into and never want to leave. without hesitation, you plop down, burying yourself in the comfort of the bed and letting out a blissful hum. “dibs on the bed tonight,” you say, looking up at baekhyun with a mischievous grin.

he stares at you for a moment, lips curling into a smirk. “oh, no you don’t,” he retorts, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “this bed’s big enough for both of us. we’ll just share.”

you shake your head, hands stretching out like you're claiming territory. “nope. you can take the sofa, my guy. i’m calling it. this is my bed.”

baekhyun chuckles, a low, amused sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. he leans back, feigning deep thought, but the playful glint in his eyes gives him away. he’s not nearly as irritated as he wants you to believe. "fine," he finally says with a dramatic sigh, standing up and stretching as if the very act of standing is a monumental task. “i’ll take the sofa, even though i’m not thrilled about that.”

you watch him, trying to maintain your cool, but the unexpected pang in your chest catches you off guard. the way he’s pretending to be put out, the effort he’s putting into making it seem like he’s sacrificing something when he’s clearly just messing around—it all hits you. for a split second, you feel bad. genuinely bad. a small voice in your head whispers that maybe he’s doing this to be nice, that maybe he’s not as bad as you keep telling yourself.

but no. you push it down. you’ve made your decision about him, and you won’t let him worm his way in with his charm. you hate him, and nothing—nothing—will change that.

suddenly, baekhyun halts, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious, though the faintest trace of a smirk remains tugging at the corners of his mouth. “i’m gonna shower first. we can finish figuring out the whole sleeping arrangement afterward, but i’m down for a pillow wall, if you are, sweets.”

his gaze flickers to yours, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “i know that was on your mind,” he adds, his tone dripping with smug confidence. and damn it, that annoys you, because he’s right. it pisses you off, that he knows you so well.

he leans in slightly, voice smooth as silk, his smirk widening. “and hey,” he continues, “you wouldn’t want your dear old boyfriend to end up on the not-as-comfy sofa, right? be a good girlfriend, would ya?” there's a challenge in his tone, one that pulls at something inside you, a knot tightening in your chest.

you stare at him for a beat, trying to muster up the usual annoyance, but you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips. “you’re insufferable, baekhyun,” you mutter.

he winks at you, not missing a beat. “thanks, sweets. oh, and by the way,” he adds, tone dropping to one of mock seriousness, “don’t leave your expensive shampoos and stuff out, okay? if i find them, you’ll be watching me use them all up. fair warning.”

“don’t even think about it!” you call after him, but you can’t hide the amused smirk tugging at your lips. you watch him disappear into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting a few seconds later.

your mind is a blur from everything that happened today. the weight of it all presses down on you, and the only thing you can focus on is shuffling through your bag to pull out your laptop. your fingers tremble as you tell yourself that, if you're going to avoid thinking about it all, you might as well get some work done.

so, you dive into your tasks—attempting to organize baekhyun's script and fine-tune a presentation. it’s a half-hearted effort, though. the words blur together, and the sound of your own thoughts fades, the distraction of everything around you creeping in.

you're barely getting anywhere when the sound of running water suddenly stops, pulling you from the haze of your work. the bathroom door creaks open, and your heart skips a beat as you glance up, knowing exactly what’s coming.

and there he is.

baekhyun. 

fucking shirtless.

the same baekhyun who has spent months throwing paper clips at you during meetings, the one who always swiped the last muffin in the break room—one he knew you’d been eyeing all day. standing there, completely unbothered by your presence, his sharp hip bones and smooth muscle curves on full display.

his broad shoulders practically fill the doorway of the bathroom, water droplets still clinging to his skin, glistening under the light as they trail down his collarbones, catching the soft glow of the room. they follow the sharp planes of his abs, disappearing just below the towel hanging low on his waist—just barely hiding the path that your eyes desperately try to pull away from.

you swallow hard, fighting the flush rising to your cheeks, but the image is already burned into your mind.

you turn away from him, trying your best to ignore the way your body seems to heat up at the sight of him standing there, half-drenched and smug.

“baekhyun,” you huff, shaking your head. “will you put some fucking clothes on?”

he just raises an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by your discomfort, and with a teasing grin, he casually asks, “could you toss me my clothes, sweetheart? i kinda left them on the bed.”

you roll your eyes but can’t stop the small sigh that escapes your lips. “you’re unbelievable.”

turning, you walk over to the bed where his clothes lay, carefully picking them up and making your way toward the bathroom. the large, opulent space feels even bigger as you step inside, and you can feel the humidity from the steam still lingering in the air.

as you step closer to him, your foot slips on the puddle of water he carelessly left on the floor. your balance falters, and before you can catch yourself, baekhyun's quick reflexes come into play, and he catches you by the waist.

his chest is still damp, and your body presses against his—his wet skin, still warm from the shower, sends a jolt through you, and for a moment, your mind blanks.

you can feel his heartbeat under your palm, and you pull yourself together, clearing your throat. “right. great. i, uh—thanks,” you mutter, pushing yourself away from him and regaining your composure.

baekhyun doesn’t seem fazed, his eyes still glinting with mischief as he looks down at you, but you quickly shake your head and take a step back, raising a hand. “out. now. i need to use the bathroom, and you’ve been hogging it long enough.”

he smirks, clearly amused, but doesn’t argue. “fine, fine. but you owe me for saving you from that puddle. you’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says, pulling a towel around his waist as he walks past you, his grin never fading.

you huff, watching him leave the bathroom, all too aware of the lingering heat between you. once you’re alone, you exhale sharply, trying to shake off the tension that’s built up.

the night is long, and you can’t seem to get comfortable. baekhyun, despite having his own side of the bed, is tossing and turning, invading the carefully constructed pillow wall you made between you two. every time he shifts, his arm brushes against your side or his leg nudges yours, making sleep impossible. you try to push him away, but he doesn’t stay put, and soon, your frustration reaches its peak.

with a deep sigh, you throw the covers off and slide out of bed, silently cursing the universe for putting you in this position. without another thought, you drag your pillow and blanket over to the couch, settling in the cramped space. the sofa bed’s not great, but it’s better than trying to sleep next to baekhyun, who seems completely oblivious to your discomfort.

hours pass, and though you’re exhausted, sleep doesn’t come easily. the sofa bed is too short, and the padding is far from comfortable, leaving your back sore and your mind restless. you spend the night staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the thoughts running through your head.

finally, as the morning light begins to filter through the curtains, you hear baekhyun stirring. you sit up, rubbing your eyes and immediately checking your laptop to avoid looking at him. the soft sound of him getting out of bed fills the room, and you can almost hear his confusion when he spots the sofa bed.

he’s quiet for a beat before his voice rings out with disbelief. “wait, seriously? you’re on the couch?” his tone is a mix of surprise and concern.

you glance at him from over your laptop, blinking away the grogginess. “yeah,” you reply, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “it wasn’t that bad.”

baekhyun’s brow furrows as he walks toward you, eyes scanning the couch and then locking onto you with a look of confusion. “but still…” he says, his voice soft but serious, “i would've rather had you stay in bed, and me go onto the shitty couch. you going on the sofa bed sounds like something that other guy would have you do.”

he sits down next to you on the couch, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. despite the proximity, he acts as if this is completely normal, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and yet, it’s throwing you off, making you question what exactly is going on between you two. but then you notice the subtle shift in his expression—a slight wince—as he realizes just how uncomfortable this is. it’s a fleeting moment, but you catch it, and it makes you smirk.

you laugh softly, breaking the tension. “okay, okay, fine. i’ll kick you out if you don’t behave tonight.”

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “not even gonna send me straight to the couch?” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “gonna give me a chance on the bed tonight? you goin’ soft on me, sweetheart? promise i won’t disappoint. y’know, women are actually trying to get into my bed, not out of it.”

you roll your eyes at him, shaking your head at his cocky demeanor. without warning, you start throwing pillows at him, laughing as you yell, “actually, you can sleep on the beach tonight, you fucking loser.”

he jumps off the couch, trying to dodge the pillows with a dramatic flair. “it’s too early in the day for you to be this violent, woman!” he yells, grinning like a maniac.

“oh, please!” you laugh, barely able to contain your amusement. “this is a normal tuesday for us, baekhyun.”

just as you’re about to throw another pillow, a loud knock echoes from the door, cutting through the chaos.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

baekhyun flops back onto the bed, the sheets crinkling beneath him as you both listen to the sharp knock at the door. but before you can even move, you take the opportunity to lob one last pillow at him—smacking him squarely in the face while he's still caught off guard. you quickly shuffle toward the door, eager to beat him to the punch before he can retaliate.

you wonder, just for a second, if it’s an employee delivering the good news that there's another room available, something that might finally make this whole situation more bearable. but as you open the door, your breath catches in your throat.

standing in the doorway, looking like a storm cloud ready to explode, is jongin. his glare could slice through steel, and his arms are crossed tightly over his chest, lips curling into a sneer.

“of fucking course” he mutters, his voice dripping with venom, “it would be you two making all that noise next door.” 

you sigh, an exasperated, barely contained groan slipping from your lips. “great. perfect. just what i needed,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose as the last of your patience slips away. “what do you want, jongin?”

his sneer deepens, and his voice drops into something more menacing. “to shut the hell up,” he snaps. “some of us are still trying to sleep. i don’t care what pathetic excuse of a dick he’s giving you—”

“is that all?” you interrupt, your voice flat, cutting through his tirade before it can build. your hand slides the door open just a bit wider, your tone dry and uninterested. “if it is, i’ll get back to that ‘pathetic dick.’”

there’s a brief shuffle behind you, and before you can even react, you feel the heat of baekhyun's body press against your back, the sharpness of his presence unmistakable. he leans in close, his voice a low, almost playful hum that sends a shiver down your spine.

“what’s all this about pathetic dick?” he asks, his tone smooth and dangerously seductive, “‘cus it sure as hell can’t be mine.”

jongin’s eyes flick to baekhyun, and the tension between the two men is palpable, charged with unspoken animosity.

your face heats instantly as baekhyun’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. the warmth of his body is almost too much to handle, and his dark eyes glint with amusement as he tilts his head down to meet yours. the smirk that curls at the corner of his lips is nothing short of lethal. “isn’t that right, sweetheart?” his voice teasing and sure.

“uh... yeah,” you stammer, the words slipping out a little too quickly, your throat tight and a rush of warmth spreading beneath your skin.

jongin’s sharp gaze narrows, cutting through the space between you and baekhyun. “she doesn’t sound very convinced,” he sneers, his lips curling into a venomous smirk. “guess she’s been missin’ a real man, huh?”

without even sparing him a glance, baekhyun’s attention remains solely on you. his lips hover dangerously close to your neck, brushing just enough to send a shiver racing down your spine. “well,” he murmurs, his voice dipped in sweet, honeyed malice, “who’s been makin’ her scream all morning?”

he angles his head slightly, exposing a red splotch on his jaw, a visible mark left from the earlier cushion assault. but the way it stands out against his skin speaks to something far more suggestive. his gaze flicks to jongin, sharp and mocking. “we’ll try to keep the noise down. now, why don’t you go be a good neighbor and fuck off?”

before jongin can retort, baekhyun’s grip on you tightens, and he tugs you back and further into your shared room with a firm, deliberate motion. the door clicks shut behind you with a satisfying snap, the confrontation left to fizzle out on the other side.

the night had fully embraced the island, the sky a deep, velvety black speckled with a million stars. the moon hung low, casting a soft silver sheen over the water, which shimmered like liquid glass in the calm evening air. you and baekhyun had set up shop at the poolside, the faint sounds of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance acting as a subtle soundtrack to the tension brewing between you two.

the flickering glow of your laptop screen illuminated your focused face, but baekhyun’s insistent whining kept cutting through the silence, forcing you to push back any sense of calm.

“ugh, seriously? we’ve been here for hours.” baekhyun groaned, stretching dramatically in his chair, the sound of his back cracking loudly as he leaned back. his eyes fluttered closed for a second as he let out a deep sigh. “this is hawaii, hawaii, and we're just sitting here... working? you can’t be serious, sweetheart.”

your eyes remained locked on your laptop screen, fingers flying over the keys as you typed away. “it’s called responsibility, baekhyun,” you muttered without looking up, your voice dripping with subtle sarcasm. “though, given how little you seem to know about it, i’m not exactly surprised that word isn’t in your vocabulary.”

he groaned again, this time pushing his chair back with a squeak that sent a shiver through the otherwise still night. he stood up, stretching his arms above his head, his body languid and exaggerated in every movement. his pout was theatrical, like a child who hadn’t gotten his way. “but i didn’t come all the way here to work the entire time,” he whined, his voice almost teasing, “especially when we could be out there enjoying the beach, having fun. we’re just gonna stare at spreadsheets and powerpoints the whole damn time? come on, sweets, let’s at least take a walk on the beach for a bit. i hear there’s a cool bar down there... just down the way. you deserve a break.”

he’s right. you can feel the strain in your eyes and the thought of a cold piña colada from the bar sounds like the perfect remedy right now. “fine,” you snap, your voice sharp, cutting through the tension. “but we have deadlines, baekhyun. we can't lose out on this merger just because you wanna fuck around and—”

your sentence is abruptly interrupted when you stand to gather your things, unintentionally bumping into baekhyun in the process.

he stumbles backward, his arms flailing in a frantic attempt to regain balance. his eyes go wide in exaggerated mock horror, a grin tugging at his lips. and then—PLOP!—he crashes straight into the pool, fully clothed, the sudden splash sending a wave of water over the edge, soaking the surrounding area.

you froze, your mouth dropping open in shock. “oh my god, baekhyun! i didn’t mean to—”

baekhyun surfaced, his drenched hair clinging to his forehead as he wiped the water from his face with a laugh. “really? you accidentally pushed me into the pool?” his voice dripped with amusement, the playful glint in his eyes only making him more insufferable.

you instinctively extended your hand, guilt rising in your chest. “i’m sorry! here, let me help you out.”

but baekhyun had other plans. before you could react, he seized your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong, and tugged you toward him with a mischievous glint in his eye. “oh no, sweetheart, you’re not getting off that easy.”

a startled gasp escaped you as you stumbled toward the pool’s edge. in one swift motion, baekhyun yanked you into the water with him. the cold hit you like a shockwave, your body stiffening as the chill enveloped you, leaving your heart racing.

you froze for a split second, panic surging through you as the cold water surrounded you. “baekhyun!” you sputtered, your voice shaky as your heart pounded in your chest. “i-i can't swim!”

without hesitation, baekhyun’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you effortlessly against his chest. his body was warm against yours, his presence grounding in a way that made your head spin. “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice calm and soothing, but with an edge of something playful. “i’ve got you.”

his grip was firm, almost possessive, and it only intensified the heat flooding your cheeks. your body pressed so close to his, it felt impossible to breathe without feeling the weight of his every movement. you squirmed a little, trying to pull away, but his hold remained unyielding. “i swear, i’m gonna kill you,” you muttered through gritted teeth, frustration rising in your chest.

baekhyun’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest, low and teasing, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “if you kill me, princess,” he whispered, his breath warm and distracting against the side of your face, “you’re goin’ down with me.” his voice dropped to a mockingly romantic tone. “kinda poetic, though, don’t ya think? like romeo and juliet.”

before you could respond, the sliding glass door to jongin’s room swung open, and his voice rang out, breaking through the tension. “if you two are going to have sex in the pool, i’m calling security!” he yelled.

you froze, your cheeks burning as your embarrassment peaked. you were so done with baekhyun.

baekhyun, on the other hand, only laughed louder, his chest rumbling beneath your hands. “what?! can’t a man fuck his girl in peace? knew you were an asshole, but didn’t know you’d be a fuckin’ cockblock, too!”

you pushed against his chest, desperately trying to break free, the words slipping from your lips in a breathless hiss. “i swear, i'm going to kill you.”

and just like that, it was as if the spell that had bound the two of you together shattered, leaving everything heavy and tense. before he could even react, you were already grabbing your things, fleeing back toward the suite with a hurried, frantic urgency. leaving him behind and very, very alone.

the soft hum of the hotel room’s air conditioner was the only sound filling the space as you nestled deeper into the plush sheets, a gentle sigh escaping your lips. the warm water of the shower had relaxed your muscles, the exhaustion from the day melting away with each droplet. wrapped in a fluffy robe, you felt cozy in the bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a peaceful light around the room. 

you absentmindedly took another sip from your glass of water, the coolness of it soothing your dry throat. the day had been long, filled with endless emails and phone calls, and tomorrow’s presentation with kim corp. lingered in your mind like a weight you couldn’t shake. you’d be expected to nail it. your mind buzzed with all the things that could go wrong, all the ways you might stumble.

baekhyun returned to the room quietly, his footsteps barely audible against the soft carpet. he entered, holding a pineapple-shaped glass filled with a creamy piña colada, the faint scent of coconut and rum reaching you before he even spoke. his gaze immediately found you, and that ever-present, playful grin tugged at his lips.

“a peace offering,” he said casually, stepping closer, his voice gentle but full of the usual teasing warmth. “for the whole, y’know, pool incident earlier.”

you shot him a half-hearted glance, barely meeting his eyes. you could hear the slight edge of frustration in your own voice when you responded. “you didn’t have to drag me into the pool like that.”

baekhyun chuckled, his eyes bright with that mischievous glint. “maybe not, but it was fun, wasn’t it?”

you let out a sigh, a mixture of exasperation and amusement tugging at your lips, a reluctant smile curling despite yourself. baekhyun set the piña colada down on the bedside table with a soft clink, then proceeded to strip off his clothes. you quickly turned your gaze to the side, trying your best not to look, but god, it was nearly impossible not to glance. his body was a work of art—toned muscles, perfectly sculpted. even in the soft light of the room, the sight of him was enough to make your breath hitch. you forced your attention elsewhere, trying to keep your thoughts in check, but it was hard to ignore the way your body reacted.

he walked toward the bathroom, his steps sure and confident, and the sound of running water soon filled the space. you exhaled, attempting to push those thoughts from your mind, but it wasn’t easy. a few moments later, the sound of the water stopped, and the bathroom door creaked open. baekhyun emerged, freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and tousled, the scent of soap and shampoo lingering in the air. he wore nothing more than a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, but even in the most casual clothes, he still looked effortlessly stunning.

it was fucking infuriating.

he slid into the bed beside you with his usual ease, like it was second nature to him, yet his eyes didn’t stray from you. they lingered, observing you with that familiar intensity. you could feel his gaze on you, but you refused to meet it. something about the way he was looking at you made your heart race, and you didn’t know if it was the exhaustion from the day or the way he seemed to have an unspoken understanding of everything.

the pillow wall, once a physical barrier, seemed to stretch into something more now. as he shifted closer, his gaze flicked over you—keen, observant, knowing. his eyes softened slightly, as if sensing the quiet tension still holding you.

you didn’t need to look at him to know he was watching. you bit your lip, furrowing your brow, lost in thoughts that weighed heavier than you let on. of course, baekhyun noticed. he noticed everything about you. the way your shoulders were slightly hunched, the tightness in your jaw, the way your fingers gripped the edge of the blanket just a little too hard.

he shifted, leaning toward you with a gentle, reassuring smile, his voice low and smooth as he spoke. “y’know... you did great today. we both did.” his hand hovered just shy of the pillow wall, like he wanted to close the space but didn’t push. “and we’ll do great tomorrow too. you always do.”

you met his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, his words cut through the whirl of your thoughts like a breath of fresh air. you felt the tension in your shoulders ease, the grip on the blanket loosening as you let out a long, slow breath. “you always say that,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips, though it was almost fond.

you couldn’t help but remember how baekhyun had always been the first to notice when you were nervous before presentations or meetings. he’d show up early, stand next to you, and assure you that you were going to crush it, always with that playful glint in his eye. at the time, you took it as nothing more than sarcasm, a part of his usual flirting. but now, as his words settled in your chest, a realization hit you. maybe—just maybe—he’d always been genuine. even when he was a flirtatious bastard.

baekhyun’s smile deepened, his eyes softening in that rare, vulnerable way you’d only ever seen in private moments. “’cus it’s true. you always pull through, no matter how much you’re stressing. you’ve got this. don’t let it eat you up.” the sincerity in his tone sent a ripple through you, and for the first time, you wondered if there was more to him than just the cocky, teasing persona he showed to the world.

you didn’t respond at first, your heart racing with the weight of tomorrow’s pressure. but his words, those simple, honest words, had a way of grounding you. slowly, you turned your head toward him, no longer worried about the invisible wall that still seemed to separate you. you didn’t need to say anything. his presence alone was enough to make you feel like you weren’t carrying the weight of it all alone.

baekhyun didn’t move any closer, but the space between you felt smaller somehow. his gaze remained steady on yours, the soft glow of the room casting gentle shadows across his features. he wasn’t going to let you carry it all on your own. and somehow, that reassurance settled your nerves more than anything.

the tension that had clouded the room seemed to dissipate, leaving a quiet, comfortable silence between you two. you finally took a sip of your piña colada, the cold sweetness of it sliding down your throat, and for the first time in hours, you allowed yourself to relax.

baekhyun’s voice broke the silence, playful as ever. “and don’t worry. if you need me to bail you out tomorrow, i’ll be right there, by your side. y’know i’m good at that.”

you chuckled softly, feeling a bit of the weight lift from your shoulders. “i’m sure you’ll find a way to ‘help,’ baekhyun.”

he grinned, his hand reaching out to briefly touch the edge of your pillow, just enough to let you know he was there. “always do, sweetheart. always do.”

and for the first time this entire trip, you felt like you might actually be able to sleep.

baekhyun leaned back in his chair, eyes unfocused as he traced the pattern on the desk with his finger, his mind drifting. the memory came flooding back—three years ago, the first day you’d officially stepped into the role of head of marketing at inb100.

it was a strange, almost surreal day for him. kyungsoo, as usual, was directing everyone around with his quiet but unyielding authority. sehun and chanyeol were up on ladders, struggling to hang a banner that said welcome new head of marketing! the sight made baekhyun roll his eyes as he watched them fumble with the task, then leaned back in his chair to speak up.

“aww, you guys shouldn’t have. but i’ve already been here for a couple years now,” baekhyun jokes, grinning as he glanced over at kyungsoo. “also, i’m in finance, not marketing.”

kyungsoo didn’t even look up from his clipboard, his voice as dry as ever. “always the idiot, aren’t you, baekhyun?”

baekhyun’s grin faltered, his thoughts momentarily stalled as the weight of the greeting on the banner settled in. new head of marketing. it hadn’t crossed his mind much before, but now, the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. kyungsoo didn’t seem to care at all, his focus entirely on whatever task was in front of him. but baekhyun couldn’t shake the nagging curiosity gnawing at him. who would fill that role? would they fit into the mold of everyone else? or would they stand out, make waves? he wasn’t sure why it mattered, but it did.

“have you met the new head yet?” baekhyun asked, his voice a little sharper than he intended.

kyungsoo didn’t even glance up, still engrossed in whatever was on his clipboard. “nope, not yet,” he replied flatly. “but i hear she's real good.”

‘she’, huh?

baekhyun hummed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against the desk. “you think if she’ll be like the others? you know? just another cog in the machine. or maybe something different... a ‘yes man’ like chanyeol, always eager tobe on minseok’s good side? or maybe a hardass, like you, kyungsoo?”

baekhyun continued, his words flowing out without much thought. but kyungsoo had already tuned him out, lost in his own world as usual, the conversation no longer holding any of his attention. baekhyun's voice trailed off as he realized no one was listening. he let out a small sigh, his thoughts lingering on the possibility. 

but he quickly shrugged it off, dismissing the unease that began to coil in his chest. there was no point in getting worked up over it. the new head of marketing would probably just be another face, another name to add to the roster. nothing more.

he stood up and made his way over to the table, where an assortment of snacks lay—muffins, fresh fruit, coffee, all neatly arranged for the team to graze on. his stomach growled in protest, and he didn’t hesitate to grab a muffin, devouring it quickly without caring about the crumbs that fell carelessly onto his shirt.

he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, content for the moment, until a soft, confident voice cut through his haze.

“excuse me, do you mind if i grab one of those?”

baekhyun froze, fully expecting some random in marketing awaiting the new head’s arrival by grabbing a small snack.

but then he saw you.

his breath caught.

baekhyun swears he’d fallen in love at that moment.

you were everything he hadn’t anticipated—graceful, composed, with an effortless elegance that radiated from you. there was an air of quiet authority that surrounded you, impossible to ignore. you didn’t look like a typical office worker, much less someone in charge of marketing. no, you were too striking, too captivating to be confined to this place. had you ever considered modeling? baekhyun wondered, his mind running a little wild at the thought of you in front of cameras instead of spreadsheets.

you looked...different. better than anything he’d imagined. and just for a second, he felt like he was in the presence of something rare, something far beyond his typical workday.

his mouth went dry, a rush of heat flooding his face as he quickly forced a smile, trying to mask the surprise that hit him all at once. “uh, of course, go ahead,” he said, his voice a little strained as he stepped aside, maybe a little too quickly, to give you space.

you glanced at him, the corners of your mouth twitching into a subtle smirk, eyes glinting with amusement. “thanks,” you said, reaching for a muffin, your voice light and playful. “by the way, nice try with the whole ‘i’ve been here for years’ thing. thought it was kinda cute.” you paused, your gaze lifting to meet his, the challenge in your eyes sharp and clear. “but, what was it you said afterwards? wondering if i’m a 'yes-man' or a hardass?”

baekhyun blinked, completely thrown off guard. his stomach did an unexpected flip, and his heart rate picked up. how the hell had you read him so easily? it rattled him more than he was willing to admit. he hadn’t expected you to catch on so quickly, and the realization hit harder than he cared to admit. “i... uh... maybe i was,” he stammered, his confidence momentarily slipping, but then he quickly regained his composure. a grin spread across his face as he tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “but i’m relieved to see you’re not a hardass...at least not yet.”

you took a slow, deliberate bite of the muffin, raising an eyebrow as you held his gaze. “yeah, we’ll see,” you replied, your tone smooth and teasing. “but i’m not here to be anyone’s 'yes-man.'”

the tension in his chest melted away as a genuine laugh escaped him. there was something about the way you carried yourself that both intrigued and unsettled him. most people were easy to read, predictable—but not you. you weren’t someone he could figure out in one conversation, and for some reason, that only made him more curious.

god, you were exactly what he'd always dreamed of. seriously, his ideal.

and even now, you still felt like a dream—especially now, standing in front of him on your third day in hawaii. your fingers absently twisted through your hair as you studied your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. “ugh, i hope it’s not over the top. how do i look?”

so fucking perfect, as always, is what he wanted to say.

but instead, he nudged your shoulder from where he was lounging in the office chair, the two of you waiting in the spacious meeting room before the ceo of kim corp and his partner. flashing you a teasing grin, he shrugged nonchalantly. “y’look fine, sweetheart. but, y’know, not quite as good as me.”

he couldn't help but savor the way your punch landed on his arm, the familiar warmth of your smile spreading across your face once again. it was the kind of smile that had started to feel like a constant, one he could easily picture lighting up his days if you'd let him.

“yeah, right. you can’t even tie this thing properly,” you teased, reaching over with quick fingers to fix his crooked tie. “see? much better,” you added, a proud smile tugging at your lips.

he chuckled, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink as that smile of yours worked its magic, making his heart stutter. leaning in closer, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “if you wanted to get your hands on me, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart. oh wait, you kinda did last night, didn’t you? i seem to recall someone ignoring their little pillow wall.”

“oh, shut up,” you glared at him, though the smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth betrayed your annoyance. “that was so embarrassing.”

baekhyun leaned casually against the conference table, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes. he was about to open his mouth, clearly ready to say something—something that would no doubt make you roll your eyes and laugh at his audacity—but just as he parted his lips, the door to the meeting room swung open with a sudden swiftness.

you both quickly snapped to attention, rising from your chairs to greet the mogul.

in walked junmyeon, the ceo of kim corp., impeccably dressed in his usual tailored suit, followed by none other than his trusted right-hand man. the air in the room immediately shifted—junmyeon exuded an air of quiet authority, while his partner’s presence was a magnetic pull that seemed to command attention effortlessly. but it wasn’t their professional demeanor that caught you off guard.

it was the moment jongin’s eyes landed on you.

a split second of recognition flickered across his face, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. he glanced between you and baekhyun, his expression turning from curiosity to disbelief. his lips parted, and the unmistakable shock was clear in his voice.

“wait... no fucking way.” jongin's eyes darted between you and baekhyun, disbelief written all over his face as the three of you stood there, mouths practically on the floor. “you two?”

your heart skipped a beat, the sudden jolt of recognition freezing you in place. baekhyun, too, went rigid, his usual confident demeanor faltering for a moment as he tried to process what had just happened. his expression went blank, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he, too, scrambled to make sense of the situation.

your mind raced, trying to make sense of the tangled web of connections. junmyeon, the ceo of kim corp., was already making his way toward the table, completely unaware of the tension hanging in the air. his presence was commanding, as usual, but today, his stride felt slightly out of sync with the uneasy atmosphere he was about to walk into.

as he reached the table, junmyeon paused for a split second, glancing between you and baekhyun with a raised brow. “ah,” he said with a smile, clearly oblivious to the awkwardness. “so you three know each other? well, this should be easy then.” he casually unbuttoned his blazer, the movement smooth and confident, before taking a seat across from you both. his tone was light, almost amused, as he gestured for jongin to sit beside him.

jongin, still looking between you and baekhyun with that same perplexed expression, slid into the seat next to junmyeon, his eyes never fully leaving the two of you. you could practically feel the weight of his unasked questions hanging in the air, and it only made the situation feel more surreal.

you sat frozen for a moment, trying to regain your bearings, while baekhyun seemed to settle back into his usual cool, collected self. 

“so, about this merger…” junmyeon starts.

the meeting had concluded with impressive efficiency. presentations delivered, contracts laid out neatly in front of junmyeon, everything falling into place perfectly. as he stood up from the table, he gave you all a brief, reassuring smile. “i’ll just make a quick call to the board members—unfortunately, their flight got canceled back in new york, which was why they weren't able to attend today. it's too bad. they're missing out on the beautiful weather here,” he added with a light chuckle before heading for the door.

the door clicked shut behind him, and suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. you felt the tension crackle almost immediately.

jongin was the first to speak, his voice low, but dripping with that signature sarcasm that could make even the most confident of people cringe. “i can't believe this,” he said, eyes flicking between you and baekhyun. his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long, the corner of his mouth lifting in disbelief. “you two are supposed to be here on a business trip AND you're also dating? really?” he scoffed, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation.

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, instinctively glancing at baekhyun. he was leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, expression unreadable.

jongin seemed to relish in the discomfort that had settled in the air. “you both are seriously going to get fired,” he continued, a wicked grin playing at his lips. “i’m telling minseok. you’ll both be out of a job faster than you can fucking blink.”

"i don’t recall there being anything in our employee contracts that forbade us from dating our coworkers." baekhyun tensed beside you, his posture rigid, as if he were ready to swing the moment you gave the word.

jongin’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards, his voice dipping into something low and bitter. “back when you and i were still together,” he drawled, his gaze flickering between the two of you with mock interest, “i remember how much you complained about baekhyun. god, you really couldn’t stand him.” amusement dripped from his words as he turned his attention to baekhyun, a smirk tugging at his lips. “funny how things change, huh?”

a flash of something—was it irritation? amusement?—passed over baekhyun’s face, but he stayed silent, allowing jongin to continue.

jongin's smirk deepened as the silence stretched on. “you’d be better off with me than this ‘incompetent little shit’, as you like to put it,” he said casually, like it was no big deal. his tone, though, was as sharp as ever, and you could tell he was testing both you and baekhyun—waiting to see how far he could push.

jongin's words hung in the air like a challenge, but before you could even process your reaction, baekhyun spoke, his voice smooth but laced with a dry humor that you knew all too well.

“yeah, i'm sure she told you about all the things i did to piss her off.” he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, the playful glint never quite leaving. “y'know, the stuff that made her so mad she couldn’t even look at me without wanting to throw something at my head.”

you rolled your eyes, not at all surprised by baekhyun's tendency to casually brush off every slight, but something about his tone made it clear he wasn’t rattled by jongin's comments.

he leaned forward slightly, his gaze flicking back to you, and a smirk tugged at his lips. “honestly, it’s not like i didn’t deserve it,” he continued with an easy shrug. “she hated me back then. hell, she probably still can’t stand me now.”

you glance at baekhyun, your brows knitting together in uncertainty, unsure of where he’s going with this. the air between the three of you feels charged, a quiet tension bubbling just beneath the surface. you open your mouth, ready to steer the conversation into safer waters, to defuse whatever this is before it spirals.

but then baekhyun speaks, his voice low and laced with a cocky edge that sends a ripple through the room. “i love pressing her buttons, though,” he says, his eyes flickering with mischief as he leans back, utterly unbothered. “she’s fucking hot when she’s pissed off.”

“what the hell?” jongin starts, his eyes darting between you both in disbelief. you could practically feel the heat rising in your cheeks, already overwhelmed by the absurdity of this whole interaction. “and you? you're just... fine with this? how the hell do you deal with him when i never got the time of day for even being mildly annoying to you?”

before you can even open your mouth to respond, baekhyun’s already stepping in, his voice laced with amusement, completely unfazed by the situation. "well, we fuck it out, of course," he says casually, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "oh! did she find you that repulsive that she wouldn’t even touch you when she’s pissed? aw, couldn’t be me."

jongin’s jaw dropped slightly, his face scrunching in a mixture of irritation and disbelief. “this is... ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, clearly done with the back-and-forth.

it was as if you were saved by the bell when the door suddenly swung open, and in walked junmyeon, his bright smile lighting up the room. “alright, everything's all good with the board. let’s get to signing.” he says, his tone cheerful and confident.

jongin, however, wasn't having it. he stood up, his frustration palpable as he interjected, “junmyeon, you can’t be serious. we can’t be doing business with these scumbags!”

junmyeon’s expression tightened for a split second, his calm demeanor shifting just enough to send a sharp, pointed glance in jongin’s direction—a look that unmistakably conveyed enough. “that’s enough out of you, jongin,” he said, his voice low and steady, yet carrying an undeniable authority. the words cut through the building tension in the room, effectively silencing it. “you’ll have to excuse my business partner here. he’s obviously not in his right head. maybe still jet lagged?”

after that, everything seemed like a blur—contracts were signed, signatures hastily scribbled in all the right places, and baekhyun, ever the troublemaker, took every opportunity to make faces at jongin from behind junmyeon’s back. the tension in the room was almost palpable as you tried to keep your focus on the task at hand.

then, with a casual smile, junmyeon added, “oh, and you two must have lunch with us soon now that we’re official partners. i’m sure the board would be quite pleased with you two.” the words lingered in the air, heavy with implication, and you could practically feel jongin's discomfort radiating from across the room. 

baekhyun, never one to miss a chance to stoke the fire, couldn’t resist. with that infuriatingly smug grin of his, he leaned forward, voice dripping with playful confidence. “of course, my girlfriend and i would love to,” he said just loud enough for jongin—exiled to a nearby table—to seethe in barely contained irritation. “won’t we, sweetheart?” 

as the meeting wrapped up, junmyeon stood, his smile practically glowing with excitement. “i can’t think of a better way to start the new year than with this partnership,” he said, his tone warm and genuine. “thank you both for your hard work and dedication, especially during the holidays. i know this isn’t ideal timing—most people would rather be with their families right now.” he paused, glancing between you and baekhyun. “but at least you two have each other to ring in the new year tonight. that’s something, isn’t it?” 

his words lingered, and you felt a strange mix of guilt and gratitude as you glanced at baekhyun, who, despite his usual antics, offered you a small, genuine smile.

and just like that, you found yourself gripping baekhyun by the lapels of his suit, half dragging, half stumbling as the two of you careened into the room. your head buzzed from the whirlwind of the night—the thrill of the merger officially sealed, the celebratory drinks at the beach bar baekhyun wouldn’t stop raving about, and the heady mix of alcohol and adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“careful now, sweetheart,” baekhyun chuckled, his voice warm and teasing as you both tripped over each other’s unsteady steps, the door swinging shut behind you. “can’t go ruining our streak now. wouldn’t want to kill each other on our last day, right? we’ve been on such a roll.”

his grin was infectious, and despite your mild frustration at his antics, you couldn’t help but laugh. the way he looked at you—mischief twinkling in his eyes, his tie loosened just enough to reveal the carefree confidence he wore so well—made your head spin.

“hey, baekhyun?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, as you glance over at him.

“yeah, sweets?” he responds casually, toeing off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket, his movements unhurried as if the weight of the evening hadn’t touched him at all.

he pauses, his back turned to you as he adjusts the cuffs of his shirt. then, slowly, he turns, a lazy smirk already tugging at the corners of his lips. “what, you didn’t like it?”

“that’s not—” you huff, crossing your arms, feeling the warmth of the alcohol make your words clumsier than usual. “that’s not the point, baekhyun. i just… wanna know why.”

he takes a step closer, the glint in his eyes unmistakable as he tilts his head, studying you with that maddeningly playful expression of his. “because it’s fun watching you squirm,” he says simply, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something that lingers unspoken between you.

“you’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrays you.

he lets out a soft chuckle, stepping closer until there's barely any space between you. “maybe,” he says, his voice dipping into a low murmur. he steps in even closer, his hand sliding effortlessly to your waist, pulling you just a bit nearer. “or maybe... i just like the way it sounds. my girlfriend.”

for the first time in either of your lives, you look up at baekhyun with something entirely new in your eyes. there’s a pink tint dusting your cheeks, softening the sharpness of your usual quips, and a sparkle in your gaze that practically screams that, to you, baekhyun puts the stars in the sky.

the sight freezes him in place. his confidence, always at an all-time high, suddenly falters. your expression, so full of quiet awe, makes his chest tighten and—god help him—his dick twitch in response. he coughs awkwardly, breaking eye contact and quickly retreating behind a mask of playful bravado.

“anyway,” he blurts, voice a little higher than usual, “did you see jongin’s face after? priceless. he looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.”

his deflection is so blatant it’s almost laughable, but you let it slide. the memory of jongin’s ashen face pulls a giggle from you, light and giddy, and baekhyun leans in just a little, clearly relieved that you’ve let him off the hook—for now.

“oh my god, yes!” you laugh, your words tumbling out between breaths as you press him back against the wall to steady yourselves. you’re drunk—on the victory, on the night, and maybe, just maybe, a little on him. “jongin looked like he was going to fucking explode.”

“see, sweetheart?” baekhyun’s grin is back, his cocky edge sharpened by your laughter. his arms wrap around you, drawing you closer in what could pass for a congratulatory hug. or, at least, that’s how it starts. “told ya i’d remind him you’re with now.”

but his hands settle lower than they should, fingertips pressing into the curve of your hips in a way that feels decidedly more possessive than celebratory. neither of you say anything about it, the moment hanging heavy in the air, charged with an electricity that neither of you can quite bring yourselves to disrupt.

“don’t even know why you dated that fuckin’ bozo in the first place,” baekhyun drawls, his voice dripping with smugness. his lips curl into a lopsided grin, the kind that always sparks a mix of irritation and amusement in you. “he’s not even in your league.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes with dramatic flair. “oh, gee, thanks. really boosting my self-esteem here.”

“no, no. not like that,” he says, his tone shifting as he leans in. his fingers catch your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes lock onto his. and god, his gaze—dark, hungry, and laced with something unspoken—sends a tremor straight through you. “don’t ever think it’s that way, stupid. you’re too gorgeous for him. besides,” he adds with a wicked grin, “he spoke like a man who couldn’t even find the clit.”

the laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, a mix of disbelief and amusement. but you recover quickly, your lips curling into a sly smirk as you counter, “well, he did find it.”

his expression shifts in an instant. the playful glint in his eyes dims, replaced by something darker, sharper. his brows knit together, and his jaw ticks as he processes your words, the muscle there working overtime. it’s satisfying—watching him squirm, just a little.

“but,” you say, leaning in close, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, your voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper, “wanna hear a secret?”

he doesn’t speak—doesn’t even breathe, it seems. he gives a short, barely-there nod, his body tensing under the weight of your words.

“he still never made me cum.”

his body stills entirely, as if your words have short-circuited him. his eyes bore into yours, searching for some sign of a joke, but all he finds is your growing smile.

“...never?” he finally breathes, the single word heavy with disbelief and something dangerously close to anger.

you lean back just enough to catch every flicker of emotion in his face, your grin widening as you deliver the final blow. “never.”

the air between you shifts, heavy and charged, as the weight of your confession lingers. you expect baekhyun to retort with his usual quick wit, some snarky comment that’ll have you rolling your eyes.

“i could,” he breathes, the words almost shaky, like he’s barely holding himself together. his breaths are ragged, his chest rising and falling faster than you’ve seen all night.

you blink, tilting your head in confusion, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone. “what?”

his eyes find yours, dark and unwavering, and he repeats himself, this time with a cocky edge curling his lips into that smirk you know too well. “i could made you cum, y’know.” he leans in, his voice thick with confidence and something more primal. 

his words send a shiver down your spine, but there’s a part of you—a defiant, playful part—that refuses to give in so easily. raising a brow, you let a sultry smirk spread across your lips. “is that an offer?”

the reaction is instant. baekhyun’s arms loop around your waist, pulling you flush against him with a grip that’s almost too tight, the kind that borders on possessive. you could swear you hear your bones protest, but you don’t care. not when his eyes are burning into you like this, not when his lips hover so close you can feel the heat radiating off them.

“it’s a promise, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with a hunger that makes your breath catch, sending a wave of heat crashing through you. the words land heavy in the air between you, and his unwavering gaze locks with yours, the intensity in his eyes almost enough to make your knees give way.

oh, that’s all you needed to hear—everything you’d been craving. and he knows it. he sees the way your skin prickles with goosebumps, how your body reacts to him without even trying. the way your lips part just slightly, almost like an invitation, and he swears he can hear that soft, syrupy tone in your voice before you even speak it.

“prove it to me then,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your eyes, daring him to follow through.

in that moment, the fireworks erupted in the distance, their deafening roar ringing in the new year as baekhyun’s lips crashed into yours with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. it wasn’t gentle or deliberate—nothing like the soft, romantic kisses you’d imagined. this was raw, primal, as if an invisible force had pulled you together, unrelenting and inevitable. every frantic press of his lips against yours felt like an explosion, a desperate, magnetic connection that neither of you could fight.

it was unlike anything you’d ever expected from byun baekhyun—no boundaries, no rules, just the overwhelming sensation of drowning in each other, caught in a storm of heat and desperation. he kissed you like you were his air, like he couldn’t get enough, and he was willing to hold his breath forever if it meant keeping you close.

his tongue swept into your mouth, exploring every corner, every inch of your lips with frantic need, as if he’d been starved of this moment for far too long. it was as if he’d forgotten how to breathe, drowning in the intensity of it, but never daring to stop, afraid that the second he did, he’d lose you.

and then, the fireworks in the distance—their loud, overwhelming explosions—felt like the very way he kissed you: impossible to ignore. each burst in the sky mirrored the fierce, unrelenting clash of your lips, echoing with intensity and raw need. the vibrant lights, fleeting yet brilliant, lit up the dark sky, just like the way his mouth claimed yours, igniting heat in your veins.

with every pop and crackle of the fireworks, his kiss deepened, more frantic, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. the colors above—bright, burning, alive—seemed to reflect the way he touched you, his hands pulling you closer, his tongue moving with desperation that matched the chaos of the display. it was a beautiful, reckless collision of sound and motion, and for that brief moment, nothing else existed. it was just you, just him, and the fire in his kiss, mirroring the explosion of fireworks lighting up the sky.

“ah, fuck—” baekhyun hisses, his voice low and strained as he pulls back just a fraction, delicate strings of spit snapping between you. his dark eyes drink you in, glossy and dazed with your lips swollen and glistening from his. “ya don’t know how long i’ve wanted to taste those lips of yours, sweetheart. i swear.”

he kisses you again and again, as though he couldn’t possibly stop, as though stopping might shatter him. his lips, his tongue—he’s everywhere, consuming and relentless, pulling soft moans from your throat when he slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. you’re dizzy with it, drunk on the taste of him and the faint, familiar sweetness of those strawberry lollipops you always caught him sucking on in the break room. and now? now, you’re the one he can’t get enough of, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

he pulls back slightly, his gaze capturing every soft sound that escapes your lips as his large hands knead your body through the fabric of your dress.

“ba-baekhy—” you gasp out, the words stumbling over your lips when he flips you, pressing you against the wall. his lips assault yours in a frenzy, peck after heated peck, desperate and needy. “what do you—mean—”

he groans, the sound rumbling in his chest as his lips trail down the quivering curve of your throat. “just… kiss me. damn, for someone who has such a gorgeous mouth, you sure talk too much, sweetheart.”

oh, and that was rich coming from him—though you barely get the chance to snap back at him before he’s already over it, deciding he’s done with all the teasing. if he’d even been teasing at all, that is.

in an instant, his hands are at the cold metal zipper of your dress, tugging it down with an easy motion, the fabric following with it as it pools around your waist, revealing more than you’re ready for. fuck, when did he even unclip your bra?

“you—” you try to speak, but the cool air in the room sends a shiver down your spine, your nipples hardening in the chill. the sensation only intensifies when you feel his stiff arousal pressing against your side, sending a hot rush of heat to flood your core. it’s more than just words now, and you feel the undeniable truth of it, the tightening in your thighs as you unconsciously squeeze them together. you shoot him a sharp, questioning look, your breath faltering slightly. “you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

baekhyun flashes you that familiar, mischievous grin, and his large hands move to cup your breasts, his touch heavy and possessive. “wanna know how many times i’ve pictured this, sweetheart? go ahead, ask.”

“no,” you answer quickly, though your voice trembles just slightly.

“why not?” he teases, his gaze dark and intense.

“‘cus you haven’t,” you respond, your words more a challenge than a statement.

without any warning, his hand comes down hard, a sharp slap landing on the soft curve of your ass. the sting leaves a fiery trail as his fingers linger, pressing firmly through the fabric of your dress, now hiked even higher.

“always have to talk back, don’t you?” baekhyun spits the words, his knee pressing between your legs. his grin, so innocently handsome, spreads across his face as he notices the soft moan that slips from your lips. he grinds against you purposefully, feeling your body shift under him. “why won’t ya ever, hah—believe me?”

his hand yanks your dress down, down, down, while the other forces your hips against his thick, muscled thigh. “let’s try that again,” he says with a wicked gleam in his eye, “ask me like the good girl you are.”

you swallow hard, fighting the instinct to push back, to refuse him. instead, your body betrays you, moving with desperation as you feel yourself grinding helplessly against his thigh. a whimper escapes your lips when his hand tightens around your hair, pulling your head back to force you to look at him. 

you swallow hard, your voice trembling as you ask, “h-how many times have you pictured this, baekhyun?”

“lost count after your first month on the job, sweetheart,” he mutters, his voice thick with hunger, a dark, almost predatory smile curling on his lips.

you want to fight it. you want to resist, be bratty, rebellious. but your body betrays you, moving on its own, too far gone to even think clearly. the way you grind against him, needy and filthy, makes you feel like you're losing control, sinking deeper into the heat of desire that surges through you.

baekhyun watches you, his grin darkening as his hands take hold of your hips, guiding you to grind harder, faster, pushing you to drown in the overwhelming sensations. “yeah, that’s it,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “that’s my girl. a secret for a secret, right?”

his words hang in the air, heavy with intent. “remember that time i ‘slept’ through the whole meeting?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, then sinking into your lobe with a sharp bite. “nah, wasn’t sleepin’.”

his tongue traces the spot he just bit, slow and teasing, his voice dropping even lower. “it’s just... i couldn’t stop staring at that cute little skirt you wore that day. so fucking short, so tight. couldn’t bring myself to face anyone, not after i spent the entire night with my hand around my cock, thinking about all the sweet, filthy things i could do to you.”

“god, you're so fucking nasty,” you gasp, your breath coming in shallow bursts.

“yeah, i know,” baekhyun purrs, his fingers dancing over the hem of your dress, the fabric now hanging loosely at your thighs. “don't pretend you're all innocent when you wear somethin’ like this underneath. drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy. how'd ya know red’s my favorite color?"

you didn’t.

his finger glides across the lace of your red panties, feeling the dampness through the fabric. he groans, deep and satisfied. “yeah, thought so... just as dirty as i imagined.”

with his theory proven, baekhyun hooks one arm beneath your trembling thighs, lifting you effortlessly. you let out a desperate sound when he smacks your ass hard, the sting sharp and delicious. “baekhyun!” you cry, your body arching against him instinctively.

“oh, i love that. say it again,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he steps slowly toward the edge of your shared bed. he takes his time, savoring the feeling of your drooling cunt soaking through, leaving a small dark patch on his suit. “i said, say it again.”

all it takes is a sharp slap to your ass and the honeyed drag of his name on your lips to make baekhyun splay you out like some desperate slut on the soft, silken sheets. your hands instinctively grab at his broad shoulders when he pauses, taking a moment to admire just how breathtaking you look. even better than any fantasy his mind could conjure.

“baekhyun,” you mewl, and he licks his lips, eyes glazed, entranced by the sight of you. he's unsure where to focus—on the needy, cockdrunk look in your eyes, the way your flimsy dress clings to the plushness of your thighs, or the glistening patch on your cunt, already wet and waiting. it’s all so mouthwatering. “baekhyu—ba—baek!”

the sound of your voice snaps him out of his daze. “what did you call me?” he breathes, his words low and ragged.

you bat your lashes at him innocently, feigning sweetness, “baekhy—”

“no.” he interrupts, his throat bobbing with a heavy gulp. his thumb presses against your puffy lips, dragging the same words out of you—wanting them to spill directly to his aching cock once more. “the other one. don’t play stupid with me, sweetheart. you know exactly what i’m talking about.”

oh, you do.

you feel your pussy clench, the anticipation building, and you whine out that little nickname again. “baek, please.” you add a slight quiver, just enough to make baekhyun’s lips curl into a soft “oh!” his breath catches, a low hiss escaping him as his hand instinctively moves to squeeze his bulging erection.

“oh yes, m'name sounds so fucking cute on your lips,” he groans. the sheets beneath you rustle with the movement as he urgently shifts lower, “sounds so fucking good it makes me wanna—”

RIP!

“—know if she sounds just as pretty as you do when you’re beggin’ for me.”

you're still reeling from the disarray left by your favorite dress, now reduced to a crumpled heap on the floor, the fabric torn and forgotten. a burst of irritation rises in your chest, your voice cutting through the air as you huff, “baekhyun, you're ngh—dead if you don’t replace that—”

before you can finish your threat, his hand strikes again, this time landing softly but deliberately on your inner thighs, where your skin is already heated with frustration. the edge of his fingers brushes your swollen folds, sending a shiver through you. “yeah, yeah,” he murmurs with a dark chuckle, “i'll buy you the whole fuckin' store if ya want me to.” his breath hovers over you, hot and teasing, as he leans in, his lips barely grazing your ear. “but first, ’m gonna make sure ya don’t dare call me that again.”

his words hang in the air, leaving you speechless—any retort you might have had is completely wiped from your mind as he leans in closer. his tongue, warm and daring, slides a slow, deliberate path up your slick folds, the sensation dragging a breathless whimper from your lips.

“look at that,” baekhyun murmurs, his chuckle dripping with amusement. he spreads your thighs further apart, greedily taking in the sight of your glistening arousal, shimmering under the dim light. “she’s more mouthy than you, if that’s even possible,” he adds, his voice a low taunt.

his tongue delves in once more, licking up your wetness in long, eager strokes. again and again, he teases and tastes, driving you toward the edge of madness.

“fuck—baek,” you gasp, your fingers threading through his soft hair as his tongue slips past your folds. a desperate arch rises from your spine, your body straining for more. “need you to—hngh—go faster.”

but all you get in response is his sultry, smug grin pressing against your trembling skin. his lips quirk up at the edges, his gaze locked on you with satisfaction. “so needy, sweetheart,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

“guess you’re all bark and no bite, huh?” you pout, your voice taking on a teasingly whiny edge, savoring the way the challenge flickers across baekhyun’s face. you watch as that cocky grin falls away, replaced by a look of frustration, and it’s almost too easy. “should i go next door and take jongin up on that offer?”

the words hang between you, sharp and goading, and you can practically see the shift in him—the way it twists his insides. before you can even take another breath, he’s yanking your legs apart, his face buried back between your thighs, his hot breath ghosting over your wet skin.

he’s relentless. his tongue slides up your throbbing slit, slow and deliberate, before it moves again, and again—up and down, teasing your sensitive folds with a rhythm that has you gasping in response. each stroke sends shivers racing through your body, but it’s the next move that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“f-fuck, oh baek-” you squeal when he suddenly pushes past that tight, resisting ring, his tongue plunging deep into you without hesitation, making your back arch off the bed. you hadn’t even had a chance to brace for it, the sudden stretch catching you off guard, leaving you gasping for air. “how are you in so deep—”

but baekhyun doesn’t answer. not with words, anyway. instead, his thumb glides up to your clit, pressing with slow, deliberate pressure. he circles it in methodical strokes, matching the frantic rhythm of his tongue, which buries itself deeper into your swollen walls, pulling more desperate sounds from your throat.

he’s messy—sloppy with the way your juices spill past his knuckles, dripping down his wrist, forming a glossy sheen that coats your thighs and the sheets beneath you. the cadence of his movements mirrors the hunger in his body, his relentless need to fuck you with his mouth the way he wishes he could with his cock.

you gasp, the sensation of his tongue sweeping up your clit sending a sharp jolt of pleasure running through you. it’s too much—too good—and before you can recover, he’s back at it, attacking that spot deep inside you, each stroke more determined than the last.

“f-fuck, s’too good,” you whimper, your hands clutching at the sheets as your body trembles beneath his. “fuckin’ hate how your big mouth is so—ngh—so good at this.”

a husky rasp of laughter escapes baekhyun’s throat, and before you can even react, he’s pinning your wildly bucking hips down with one arm, his grip firm and unyielding. “don’t ya dare run away now,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with lust. “you’re so cute when you’re like this, sweetheart. not done with you yet.”

the vibrations of his voice send a shockwave through you, dragging a fevered moan from your lips. “baek! baek! baek!” it spills out of you, louder with each crash of his soft tongue against your most sensitive spots. his tongue moves with precision, swirling over your clit—harder at the tip, softer at the curve—each flick making you writhe in desperate pleasure.

“yeah—yeah, yeah, yeah,” he groans, his words punctuated by the wet sounds of his tongue and your tight walls. “say my name like that.” his voice hisses with fervor, his tongue pushing deeper, straining against the way you’re squeezing him so tight it’s almost too much. every movement, every flick of his tongue, becomes a battle, but baekhyun’s determination is unwavering. it doesn’t matter if his fingers are cramping or his tongue is growing tired—he’s relentless. “louder.”

“b-baek!” you gasp, your body trembling under him, but the need for more has your hips grinding desperately against him.

“no, no.” his voice drops into a growl, and before you can process it, something cool and glossy hits your cunt in a harsh glob. you flinch, but baekhyun’s thumb is already pressing the slickness in, mixing it with the mess below. the obscene squelches fill the room, and your cheeks burn as your ears ring with the sound. “hear this, sweetheart?” he taunts, his gaze dark and focused on you, savoring the way your body reacts. “she’s louder than you.”

your eyes lock with his as he’s buried deep between your legs, his favorite position. the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his touch, it all sends you spiraling further into desire.

“my girl can be loud f’me, right?” he pulls back slightly, only to slam his tongue back in with a ferocity that makes your body shake. “say my name, sweetheart. say it loud so the whole fuckin’ island hears.”

“baek! fuckfuckfuck—’m close,” it's the last coherent thing you can manage to moan before everything inside you unravels. wave after wave of filthy pleasure crashes over you, so intense it leaves you breathless. your hands grip his hair tighter, using it to anchor yourself as you rock your hips, grinding down deeper, desperate for more. each flick of his tongue sends jolts of electricity through you, stars exploding behind your eyelids, making your body tremble uncontrollably.

baekhyun, utterly satisfied, falls silent, letting you take control as you ride his face through your high. you're completely lost in the sensation, dragging your slick, messy pussy over his tongue, over his mouth—again and again. each movement is a mixture of urgency and surrender, your body writhing as the pleasure pulses through you, until there's nothing left but the overwhelming heat of it all.

“baek,” you murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from the way his breath hitches at the mere sound of your voice. his body trembles, and you feel a rush of power course through you. “your turn.”

getting rid of baekhyun’s pants feels like an eternity, each moment stretching, tantalizingly slow. you’re gasping for air when he finally rids himself of his dress pants—along with those boxers, soaked with precum and clinging to his skin like a sin. the slick trail he leaves down his thighs, glistening and sticky, only makes your pulse spike.

and if you thought baekhyun was beautiful before, you realize in this moment, he’s nothing short of a masterpiece—his body a perfect blend of smooth muscle and raw need, carved with such sinful allure that you’re almost overwhelmed.

you can’t resist the temptation to wrap your palm around his throbbing length, feeling the pulse beneath your fingers as he jerks against your touch, a slick sheen of precum coating your hand. and your mind wanders, wondering just how he'd taste too—how it would feel to have all of him.

“hold on right there, my dirty girl,” baekhyun groans, his voice strained and desperate as he gently tilts your head, his lips pressing soft, heated kisses to yours. “as much as—fuck—you're squeezing me so tight, as much as this has been everything i dreamed of since that office ice cream party… i know i’m gonna cum the second you put that smart mouth on me, sweetheart.” his lips trail to your lower lip, sucking gently, possessively. “and you’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

you smirk, a playful glint in your eyes as you tease him, “not gonna let you live down that ice cream party, either, baek.”

his devilish smile flickers before he pulls you closer, steadying your hips with his hands as he pulls you into his lap. he spreads your legs wide, positioning you over his weeping tip, the heat of him already seeping into your skin. “oh, fuck off,” he mutters, voice thick with lust.

you hiss as you feel his warm breath against your sensitive pussy lips, the anticipation making you ache for more. “fuck you,” you retort, but it’s weak, shaky.

“no, sweetheart,” baekhyun chuckles darkly, his powerful thighs flexing as he plants his feet on the mattress, his body tense with anticipation. “i’m fucking you.”

and then, before you can even process the warning, he pushes—just the head of his cock, but it’s enough to make your body jerk with the force of it. the blunt, needy pressure of him fills you, and you gasp, barely able to contain the overwhelming sensation as he breaches you with a slow, relentless thrust.

he groans, his eyes struggling to roll back, unable to look away from the obscene way your swollen pussy lips stretch to take him in. each inch sinks deeper, your walls opening to welcome him, slick and needy. when you reach the tight resistance at your entrance, baekhyun’s breath hitches, his body twitching as he fights the urge to lose himself completely.

“fuuuck, just look at you,” he rasps, his voice a deep, guttural growl that has your walls clenching around him even tighter. the sound of his words sends a ripple through your body, making you mold even more perfectly to his shape. baekhyun throws his head back, a tortured groan escaping him as his balls tighten with every harsh slap of his hips against your ass. “shit, shit, shit—how that bastard had you... all to himself, and didn’t make this pretty pussy come every day? i’ll never understand.”

he pulls you down roughly, one hand locking at the back of your neck, tightening his grip. “so, why don’t we... rub it in his ugly face?”

the thought sends a wave of heat coursing through you. your hips stutter, grinding down to meet baekhyun’s punishing rhythm, your body arching into his with a desperate need that makes you ache for more. you can’t get enough, your movements driven by a hunger to feel him deeper, harder, completely consuming you.

his fingers, still lingering at your cunt, shift to tease your pulsing, sensitive nub, circling it with agonizing slowness. he plays with your clit between two fingers, a teasing pressure building that has you squirming beneath him. “can you hear how loud this pussy is?” he breathes, his voice rough, dripping with desire. “bet he can hear it too.”

and it’s true. the wet smacks of skin meeting skin are growing louder, messier, as the rhythm of baekhyun’s pounding cock becomes a maddening staccato. each thrust sends ripples through you, the squelching sounds of his movements amplifying the rawness of the moment.

but you refuse to be compliant, not yet. the familiar, buzzing heat of your climax starts to rise, teetering on the edge, but you want to break him just a little bit more. “nah, i don’t think he can,” you retort, a challenge in your voice.

“oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ regret that, sweets.”

baekhyun’s eyes darken, and you barely have time to register the shift before he’s using his strength to flip you, your back hitting the soaked sheets with a soft thud. he throws your legs over his shoulders, positioning himself with ease to plunge into you in a brutal, relentless mating press. he’s folding you into the new angle, and the change sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through you.

the angle shifts just enough for him to kiss your g-spot with each powerful thrust, the pressure bruising, marking you with every inch of him. it’s impossible to focus on anything else as he drills into you, his cock reaching deeper, harder, until he’s branding his name onto your sweet spots, pushing against your cervix with a force that’s unforgettable. he’s determined you won’t forget this, determined to leave his mark, so you can’t—won’t—forget.

“baek—” you squeal as his movements speed up, each thrust hitting you harder. you struggle to get the words out, your voice trembling with need, “baek, i’m close—”

“louder,” he grins, the command dripping with mischief. his hips are starting to burn with effort, his muscles tiring from the relentless pace, but he’s not about to let up—there’s still teasing to be done. “still can’t hear you.”

your voice is shot, barely a whisper as the pressure builds inside you, “baek, ’m gonna cum—”

“louder or ’m not gonna let ya,” he challenges, his breath ragged and unsteady.

“baek! fuck, fuck, fuck, ’m cumming!” you cry out, and before those desperate moans even leave your lips, it hits him—your walls clamp down on him, tight and slick, gripping him like a vice. your heels dig deeper into his shoulder, your nails raking down his pale skin in frantic, red-hot trails as you tighten around him, "'m cumming—ngh—"

and fuck, each slam of his hips is like electricity shooting up your spine, his rhythm unrelenting as he forces you through your orgasm, dragging it out until you feel like you might go insane from the intensity of it.

“god—fuck, you’re so—” baekhyun groans, the words dying on his lips as the pleasure takes over. it’s all he can manage before he’s cumming, thick ropes of his seed flooding into you with a brutal, consuming force. “so, so, so perfect f’me…”

with both hands lacing above your head, he pulls you impossibly deeper, grinding into you with each pulse, filling you to the brim. his body is out of control, his thrusts relentless, as he pumps wave after wave of his cum into you, like he’s trying to empty himself completely.

he shudders at the overspill, the excess of his release dripping from the corners of your sweet pussy, leaving a creamy ring around his tired base. too much, yet he continues thrusting mindlessly, the movements growing sloppier as he catches your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. “at least we didn’t fuckin’ kill each other, right?”

you smile into the kiss, your hips moving languidly against his, “didn’t do—hngh—the neighbors any favors, either.”

“it’s jongin, who fuckin’ cares? ‘pathetic dick’, my ass.” baekhyun’s grin widens, loving the sight of your sweet smile, the way your eyes light up just because of him. his voice softens, drawing out the words with a lazy smirk, “y’know... since we’ve been locked up in this hotel for the past few days and we’ve got most of tomorrow, how about we actually do something fun before we leave?”

you nod eagerly, your legs tightening around his waist, and for a moment, everything blurs into a haze of heat and desire. shit, this might just be heaven. “definitely need a break after that contract. we deserve some fun after the fuckin’ week we’ve had.”

his forehead presses against yours, sticky with sweat, his breath coming out in shallow pants. “‘fun’ is my middle name, baby.” his voice is unsteady, like he’s drunk off the way you’re looking at him, that familiar glare of yours knocking the air from his lungs. he chuckles, affection dripping from every word. “and we can use the company card too. minseok never even checks—”

you cut him off with a warning tone. “baek…” your brow arches, a familiar, irritated flicker of annoyance flashing across your face—the one he knows all too well. “don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into minseok’s card. he’ll kill you if he finds out. and that’s if i don’t kill you first.”

there’s a beat of silence.

“…baek…” you press, voice tinged with disbelief.

he hesitates, then, with a sly grin creeping up his face, mutters, “…is this a bad time to tell you i booked us that boat tour for tomorrow with it too?”

you stare at him, utterly deadpan. “yeah, you’re definitely getting pushed into the ocean tomorrow.”

ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ happy new year my cute lil babies!!! i had the best time writing this lmaooooo especially all the baekhyun x reader dialogue. after my last fic i kinda wished i'd made the male rivalry part longer, so this one’s extra full of it lol <3333 as always let me know what you think :') hehe love you all n i hope 2025 brings u nothing but good vibes. can’t wait to keep writing for u guys this year, mwah love youuuuu all!

IT ALL STARTS WITH THE SLOW, deliberate brush of his hand across your thigh. baekhyun has always been aware of his power over you, but tonight, there’s something more in the way he’s touching you—the tension between you two is crystal clear. his fingers, adorned with sleek silver rings, trail up higher until they find the heat between your legs.

"you look so pretty when you’re like this, you know?" his voice is low, teasing, the rasp sending a shiver through your entire body. you can barely respond, your breath caught in your throat as his fingers dip beneath your underwear, teasing the sensitive flesh, barely grazing where you want him most.

“baek—” his name tumbles from your lips in a breathy mix of a moan and a whimper, and the sound sparks something raw and primal in him. his cock twitches at the way his name spills from your pretty little lips, exactly the way he likes it. he smirks, eyes locked onto yours, his gaze filled with that devilish glint that tells you he’s about to ruin you in the most sinful fucking way possible. 

and then you feel it—his fingers. two slender, delicate fingers that press deep inside, curling ever-so-slightly as if he knows exactly where your body needs him. his rings—cold and hard against your burning skin—send electric shocks through your core, the sensation only heightening the intensity of his touch. it’s absolutely overwhelming, the contrast of his cool jewelry and the heat that’s pooling in your belly.

"god, you sound like an angel." his voice comes out strained, his control slipping just enough to let you hear how much he wants you. your head falls back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut as he begins to move—agonizingly slow. it’s deliberate. he’s so mean about it, teasing you in just the way that makes your body crave more. he knows exactly what he’s doing, pushing you to the brink, working you up until you’re practically panting, a pathetic little mess beneath him, desperate for more. his eyes glint with wicked amusement as he watches you helplessly buck your hips against his hand, chasing the pleasure.

you’re trying so hard to keep yourself together, but it’s impossible. every brush of his fingers pulls you deeper into the haze, and you can’t fight it—you don’t even want to.

every whimper, every twitch of your body under his touch feeds something deep inside him, his desire turning from smug amusement to something darker, more possessive. “those sounds alone are enough to make me cum, princess,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire.

the soft pads of his fingers brushes against your sweet spot, and your entire body jolts, a gasp escaping your lips. his pace quickens just slightly, each stroke hitting that perfect spot again and again, pushing you closer to the edge with every motion. and all the while, his rings—those god damn rings—remain at your entrance, cool and firm, grounding you in the reality of just how fucking good he’s making you feel.

you don’t even realize you’re gripping his wrist, trying to pull him deeper, harder, until he chuckles under his breath. "so fucking pretty when you’re desperate for me." his eyes meet yours, dark with desire, and the sight alone makes your pulse race even faster. 

he leans in, his nose and lips grazing your skin just enough to send a shiver straight down your spine. "i think my pretty girl deserves to cum, don’t you?" he murmurs, voice hot and raspy. as the words sink in, he picks up the pace, the wet sound of his fingers relentlessly sliding in and out of you filling the room. your delicious moans echo through the air, met with the quiet, devilish chuckles he lets out every time you arch or gasp in pleasure.

your body betrays you, arching instinctively against his hand, craving more of that delicious friction. “just like that,” you whimper, eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze, a pleading look behind your lust-filled eyes. “i need more... please, baekhyun, i’m almost there.”

“your wish is my command, princess.”

you feel the build of your climax approaching, the way it coils tight in your belly, threatening to snap any second. he knows it, too, the way your walls are clenching around his fingers, your moans echoing through your shared bedroom, how your thighs are trembling beneath his touch. 

and right when you think you can’t take it anymore, his voice cuts through the haze. “look at me,” he instructs, the command sending a fresh wave of anticipation through you. he twists his wrist ever so slightly, hitting that spot perfectly. the second your eyes meet his, you’re gone. your body arches off the bed, fingers gripping the sheets, but it’s his eyes that keep you grounded in the storm of pleasure.

your vision blurs, your body shuddering violently as you come undone around him, the pleasure so intense that it leaves you trembling beneath him. he keeps moving through your high, his fingers still stroking inside you, milking every last wave of your release until you’re nothing more than a panting, moaning mess beneath him.

when he finally withdraws, he brings his fingers up to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied smirk. "mmm, you always taste just as good as you look," he says, voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

you’re still trying to catch your breath, chest heaving, but all you can think about is how good it felt—how effortlessly he unraveled you. his smirk only deepens as he watches you, his eyes darkening with a promise that sends a shiver down your spine. a promise that he’s not done with you. in fact, he’s far from it.

unlocking your phone, you send him a playful text. “wow, it’s actually insane how your fingers were working just fine last night when they were inside me, and now they can’t text me back?”

baekhyun’s love for his video games are well-known, but his affection for you runs even deeper. he thrives on your playful teasing and the way you make him work for your attention. it’s a challenge he finds irresistible.

seconds after sending the message, he’s already read it. and it’s no surprise when his call comes through.

the moment you answer, baekhyun’s voice bursts through the speaker, filled with urgency. “aaahhh, i’m so sorry, baby! i totally lost track of time and didn’t realize you asked about dinner. please, give me another hour! the guys and i are on a winning streak right now, and i can’t just leave them hanging—chanyeol will literally kill me.”

you can picture his adorable pout and those pleading brown eyes. the image of him, guilt-ridden yet endearing, makes you soften.

after arriving back in town late last night, despite being exhausted, he went straight to you. the fatigue from the long flight was no match for the pull he felt toward you. the need to see you, to be with you, was stronger than any weariness. it was well past midnight when he quietly slipped into your room, his footsteps light as he approached your bed. you were fast asleep, oblivious to his presence.

he knelt by the edge of the bed, his gaze taking in the serene sight of you. with a gentle touch, he brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, wanting nothing to obstruct his view. the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains bathed your features in an ethereal glow. even in sleep, you were breathtaking.

his eyes traced every detail—the beauty marks on your skin, the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyelashes rested against your skin, and the slight pout of your lips that made his heart ache. your relaxed eyebrows seemed too perfect, too serene. he marveled at you, struggling to believe that someone as beautiful as you could be his.

moments like these made him fall deeper in love, leaving him in awe of the depth of his feelings. it took every ounce of his self-control to keep from showering your face with tender kisses.

he imagined how your lips would feel against his, the moment becoming even more passionate as his longing grew. his mind wandered to how your hands would pull him closer, and the heat between you would intensify with each touch.

just then, you shifted slightly in your sleep, a soft moan escaping your lips, bringing him back to reality. he wanted to freshen up from his flight before joining you in bed, where he could show you just how much he missed you and how important you are to him. he was eager to remind you of the boundless passion he had for you.

as these thoughts replay in your mind, guilt starts to gnaw at you. maybe you should let him enjoy his game a little longer. “actually,” you say, your words tumbling out, “kyungsoo messaged me a bit ago about grabbing some food and drinks. i haven’t caught up with him in a while, so maybe i could do that? i can come over to your place in a couple of hours when you’re free?”

you’re about to suggest an alternative when the sound of the game being paused reaches your ears, followed by some shuffling. before you can finish your thought, baekhyun cuts you off, his voice determined and a bit breathless. “nah, fuck that—i’m coming over right now to remind that pretty little head of yours just how good my fingers and my mouth really are.”

he knows kyungsoo’s no threat—they’ve met, and they actually get along quite well. but the idea of you spending time with another man still sparks a flash of jealousy deep within him. it’s an irrational feeling, one he can’t quite shake, even though he trusts you completely.

you’re slightly annoyed by how his jealousy makes you feel. you’ve never been the jealous type; in fact, you’ve always found the emotion quite exhausting and unnecessary in relationships. but hearing baekhyun like this, with that possessive edge to his voice—it does something to you. it makes you feel empowered, desired, and, if you’re honest, a little bit turned on. there’s something primal about the way he can’t stand the thought of losing you that stirs something deep inside, something you hadn’t realized was there.

you never expected to react this way, but the idea of baekhyun being just a little bit jealous, wanting you all to himself, awakens a thrill you can’t ignore. it’s a side of him that rarely comes out, and it only makes you want him more.

"i’ll be at yours in 10," he continues, his tone dripping with seductive authority. "i’ll take you out to your favorite spot after i make you cum a few times. does that sound good?'

oh, he’s fucking insane. ‘a few times’? you’re still sore from all the ways he took you last night. all day you've been feeling like you’re still dripping with the remnants of what seems like gallons of cum he left inside you. there’s no way he has anything left in him.

“what kind of boyfriend do you think i am?” he replies, a smile evident in his voice. “i’ve been away from my gorgeous girl for far too long. the least i can do is make sure you’re completely satisfied before we head out for dinner.”

before you can call his bluff, you scoff loudly. "yeah, yeah. put your money where your mouth is, baek."

his low chuckle sends a flush of heat to your cheeks and neck. you gulp when he says, "umm, actually, i’d rather have my mouth on something else... and now that i’m thinking about it, i am feeling kind of hungry. but probably not in the same way you are."

you’re left speechless, stunned by how quickly the playful banter turned into something so intensely sexual.

you hear a car door slam and the sound of an engine revving in the background. "wait, are you already on the way?" you glance at your phone, realizing you’ve only been on the call for two minutes.

"didn’t you just tell me to put my money where my mouth is? i’ll be seeing you soon, princess."

as much as baekhyun wanted to keep playing his game, he craved you a hundred times more. he could never get enough of you. after being in a relationship with him for a couple of years, you might have thought the sex would lose its excitement, and become less invigorating, even boring. that’s how it was in every previous relationship you’d been in.

but comparing your current love life to past experiences was a mistake. how could anyone ever measure up to him? no one has ever made love to you with the same passion or intensity as baekhyun. he stirs emotions in you that you’ve never felt before. the electric connection and the gravitational pull between you are unlike anything you’ve ever experienced until now.

baekhyun is known for his responsible nature. he’s always maintained a clean image, carefully balancing his public persona with his personal life. he has a strong sense of control, particularly when it comes to his indulgences. whether it's alcohol, late-night parties, or anything that could potentially tarnish his reputation, baekhyun manages his habits with precision. his friends and fans admire him for his discipline and his ability to remain grounded despite his celebrity status.

but with you, the usual rules don't seem to apply. you’re like a potent, irresistible drug, an intoxicating force that disrupts his usual self-control. unlike his measured approach to life, which he meticulously curates to maintain his ‘good boy’ image, your presence unleashes a side of him that craves indulgence beyond his typical boundaries.

when he’s with you, the usual moderation goes out the window. the way he desires you, the way he needs you, is all-consuming. you’ve become his ultimate temptation, a source of overwhelming pleasure that he can't resist. it’s as if you’ve unlocked a part of him that he usually keeps tightly secured—his craving for you surpasses any control he normally exerts over himself. he can't help but think that this may be unhealthy but at the same time, he can give two fucks about health when you and your body are on the table.

this desire for you is so intense that it feels like a high he can’t replicate with anything else. your touch, your voice, your scent—they’re all addictive to him. where he can easily set limits in other areas of his life, with you, he finds himself willing to push past those limits, to experience the pleasure and intensity of your connection more deeply.

just hearing your voice on the phone alone had made his dick twitch with anticipation, a physical response to the sultry promise in your tone. already, his mind was consumed by visions of the ways he’ll claim you tonight, the thought of his face buried between your thighs dancing vividly behind his closed eyelids. he could almost hear the honeyed moans that would spill from your lips, each one calling his name in desperate pleasure—music that makes him want to crank up the volume and lose himself in the symphony of your need.

the idea of you writhing beneath him, his mouth working relentlessly to make you cum repeatedly, ignites a deep hunger in him. he’s intoxicated by the thought of your taste, the way your pleasure would flood his senses, making him feel as though he’s already savoring the sweetness of it. the image of you bent over the sheets, your ass bouncing rhythmically against his pelvis as he takes you from behind, sends a jolt of raw desire through him. he’s pushed to the edge, the anticipation fueling his drive, making him eager to press the gas harder and faster, to make every moment of your pleasure as intense as the last.

he wonders if you’re already wet for him, if you’re lying there in anticipation, sprawled out on your bed. he imagines you touching yourself, your fingers gliding over your sensitive skin with the kind of urgency that drives him wild. the thought of you, alone and aroused, sends a jolt of excitement through him, igniting his imagination. he pictures the sheets beneath you, soaked and tangled, their disheveled state reminiscent of those intimate facetime calls after his shows, when you were so eager for his touch.

his heartbeat pounds against his ribcage, a steady thrum of anticipation that makes it hard to focus on anything else. his breathing grows heavy, each breath coming faster as he thinks about how you’ll be waiting for him. the image of you, lost in pleasure, is intoxicating, and he can’t help but grind his teeth, trying to suppress the growing need. his hand moves restlessly over the bulge in his sweatpants, seeking some form of relief that remains just out of reach.

glancing at the gps, he sees that there are only three minutes left before he arrives. the thought drives him to the brink of madness, knowing that just a few more moments and he’ll be able to indulge in the vivid fantasies that have been consuming him.

three more minutes.

two.

one.

within thirty seconds of parking, he’s at your front door, quickly entering the code and slipping inside. he kicks off his shoes with haste, his eyes darting around the living room and kitchen in search of you. his gaze zeroes in on your bedroom door, slightly ajar.

that’s when he hears you.

in three swift strides, he’s at your bedroom door, and in two more, he stands at the edge of your bed.

just moments ago, he was imagining this very scene on his drive over, marveling at the power of his thoughts. a smile curves on his lips as he wonders if he’s somehow manifested this moment.

his eyes lock onto your hands: your right hand nestled between your legs, your left gently caressing one of your breasts. he could lose himself in this intimate display for hours.

to baekhyun, the sight before him is pure art. you are the masterpiece, and he’s eager to explore every detail. his mouth parts slightly as he observes your fingers moving inside you, the raw, vivid imagery stirring something deep within him.

he knows that the pace you’ve set isn’t enough. you need his touch, his mouth. yet, judging by the flush spreading across his neck and ears, his ragged breathing, and the throbbing need straining against his sweatpants, it’s clear he’s the one who’s desperately craving release.

baekhyun steps closer to the edge of your bed, closing the distance between you. kneeling between your trembling legs, he dips his head, just inches away from your dripping core.

the sight of you is driving him to the brink.

"may i?" he murmurs before trailing soft, wet kisses along the inside of your right thigh, gradually moving toward your core. "i’m sorry for keeping you waiting, princess," he adds, his gaze filled with intense desire.

his eyes flutter shut as he plants another kiss right above your pubic bone. "i’ll spend these next few days showing you just how sorry I am."

the sight of him like this is driving you wild. looking down at him with your lips slightly parted, you nod, unable to hold out any longer.

you see the wicked smirk on his face as he positions his mouth above your throbbing clit, lightly brushing it with his bottom lip. the contact makes your body jolt and a soft whine escape your lips. his smile is devilish, and you know you’re in for a wild ride. "baby, i need you to use your words," he commands, his voice low and demanding.

"baekhyun, please, i can’t wait any longer. please, please, please. i need you," you cry out, your voice filled with desperation.

his cock twitches at your plea, clearly aroused by your desperation. "your wish is my command, princess," he responds, his own need evident in his tone.

baekhyun’s smile deepens, a blend of satisfaction and eager anticipation glinting in his eyes. he knows, with absolute certainty, that you’re wholly surrendered to him—mind, body, and soul. he draws nearer to your throbbing clit, his breath warm and electrifying against your sensitive skin. his tongue teases with a slow, deliberate stroke along your folds, each lick sending a shiver through you and making you gasp, arching your back in a reflexive, desperate response.

his tongue works slowly and deliberately, savoring every taste and texture. each stroke sends jolts of pleasure through your body, causing you to squirm and grip the sheets. he alternates between light, teasing touches and firmer, more insistent strokes, keeping you on the edge of anticipation.

his hands glide up your thighs, fingers gently pressing into your skin as if to anchor you in place. the sensation of his touch, combined with the delicious rhythm of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure crashing over you. you moan and writhe, your breathing coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

baekhyun’s pace quickens as he senses your mounting need. he latches onto your clit with his lips, sucking and flicking with just the right amount of pressure. his tongue dances in intricate patterns, making your body tense and shiver with every flick. the way his fingers are curled so deliciously inside you, driving you absolutely insane.

when you’re on the brink of breaking, he pulls back slightly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. he catches his breath, his face flushed with desire, and whispers, "i want to hear you come for me, princess."

the combination of his words and his relentless touch sends you over the edge. you cry out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure ripple through you. your moans are a mix of relief and ecstasy, filling the room with the sound of your release.

baekhyun doesn’t stop; he continues to work you through your climax, his touch becoming more fervent as he revels in the way you respond to him. as your breathing starts to slow and your body relaxes, he finally lifts his head, his lips glistening with the evidence of his efforts.

he looks up at you with a satisfied smile, his eyes still burning with the heat of his desire. "did you enjoy that, princess?" he asks, his voice husky and full of passion.

you nod, your voice barely a whisper as you catch your breath. "yes, so so much."

he rises to his full height, his gaze never leaving yours as he undresses quickly, his need evident in the way he moves. he positions himself above you, his body pressing against yours as he prepares to take you again. with every inch of his touch, he shows you just how much he missed you and how deeply he wants you.

"we’re not done yet," he warns, a mixture of anticipation and dominance in his voice. the promise makes you both nervous for the soreness that might come but excited and hungry for him all the same.

as he enters you, you both find a rhythm that’s both urgent and deeply intimate. the room is alive with the sounds of your pleasure, each moan and gasp underscoring the intense connection you share.

baekhyun’s grip on your hips tightens as his breath becomes ragged with desire. "god, baby, you feel so fucking wet and tight around me," he rasps, his voice rough and strained. his thrusts start to grow erratic and uneven, betraying his approaching climax. despite his own mounting pleasure, he’s determined not to come before you; he’s willing to do anything to keep you on the edge.

"how do you fit me so perfectly?" he murmurs, his voice breathless as he continues to drive into you. "it’s like this pussy was made just for my dick." each word is punctuated by a deep, forceful thrust, his breath coming in heavy, labored bursts as he loses himself in the rhythm of your bodies entwined.

"right there, baek, please, i’m almost there. don’t stop, keep going," you plead, your voice trembling with need. to him, your words are like a symphony, each plea a melody that drives him further. he hits all the right spots, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, making you feel like you’re about to lose your mind.

“this pussy is mine, do you hear me?” baekhyun growls, his voice thick with desire as he bites down softly on that sensitive spot on your neck, his movements unrelenting and intense.

you nod frantically, your body teetering on the edge of climax. “yes, baek, i’m all yours.”

“say it again,” he demands, his voice low and primal.

“i’m yours. all yours. i’ll always be yours,” you whisper, breathless and needy, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and adoration for his possessive nature.

baekhyun groans deeply at your words, his mouth moving to capture the moans spilling from your lips. “that’s my princess,” his tone a commanding whisper. “now be a good girl and look me in the eyes when you cum for me.”

his raw, lewd words blend with the sound of your bodies colliding and the way the tip of his cock rubs against that sweet spot just right. the combination is overwhelming, and as you lock eyes with him, savoring the way his possessiveness makes you feel so entirely claimed, everything fades into a blinding white as you reach your climax.

he’s fucking you through your high, his voice a steady stream of praise and encouragement, telling you how perfectly you’re taking him. as he watches you unravel, he can’t ignore the thought of how unhealthy his obsession with you has become. each time he sees you like this, he feels himself sinking deeper into the addiction. but at this moment, he’s completely indifferent to the consequences. all that matters is the overwhelming, consuming need to possess you, to hear you scream his name as if it's the only salvation you crave.

he’s on the verge of losing control, his thrusts becoming erratic and desperate as he nears his climax. when he finally hits his peak, he spills into you with such intensity, his cum painting your inner walls in thick, hot streams. the mingling of his release with your own sends shockwaves of raw, unadulterated pleasure through both of you. the visual of him filling you, his essence merging with your own, only amplifies the overwhelming ecstasy, each shuddering pulse of his release driving you both further into a haze so fucking intoxicating.

breathless and spent, baekhyun collapses beside you onto the disheveled bed, the sheets a tangled mess around you both. your bodies glisten with sweat, slick and intertwined, hair plastered to your necks and foreheads. he turns to you, his expression a mix of adoration and raw desire. as he captures your lips in a passionate kiss, you gasp, feeling the heat of his breath mingling with yours, your bodies still trembling from the aftershocks of your intense connection. the kiss is deep and so filled with love and passion, pulling you into a whirlwind of sensation that makes you lose your breath all over again.

"i love you so much, baby," he murmurs against your lips, his voice laden with emotion. he brushes the tip of his nose with yours before speaking again. "i can't even comprehend how much i love you. i never thought loving someone with so much intensity was even possible."

you sigh into his kiss, your voice soft but heartfelt. "i love you, too, baek," you both pull apart, looking at each other with hearts in your eyes.

he gazes at you with a tenderness that contrasts sharply with the primal intensity of your earlier moments. his loving look makes you feel both cherished and slightly self-conscious, your cheeks flushing with a mix of shyness and warmth. "what is it?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

"move in with me," he says, his voice gentle and vulnerable. i want us to share a home and build a life together. no more ‘my place or your place’ bullshit—i want to come home every day and find you there, waiting for me."

his words resonate deeply within you, swelling your heart with love and a rush of excitement. after a moment’s contemplation, overwhelmed by emotion, you nod, your voice steady and filled with promise. “okay, let’s do it. let’s live together.”

baekhyun’s grin stretches from ear to ear as he pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you with a possessive warmth. he presses soft, grateful kisses to the top of your head. "thank you. thank you. thank you," he repeats between each tender kiss, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

you giggle at his affection, savoring the tender moment. "but i get to choose the furniture," you tell him with a playful yet serious glint in your eye. as you look up, you interrupt his affectionate assault with a teasing smile causing him to pout. "and i want a room for all my books—a cozy reading area, like a sanctuary."

baekhyun’s eyes soften with adoration as he gazes at you, his love evident in every line of his face. "you can have everything you want, babe," he murmurs tenderly, pressing a gentle kiss to the spot between your eyes. "just as long as i get to drown in between your thighs every night."

his lewd comment sends a flush of heat through your core, intensifying the sensation as you suddenly feel his hardness pressing against you.

you flash him a mischievous smirk, unable to hide the effect his words are having on you. "already?" you tease, feeling the firm press of him against your core intensify, digging deeper with each breathless movement.

"i can’t help it," he breathes into your neck, his lips grazing your skin as he nibbles gently just above your collarbone. his hands reposition themselves, guiding his body over yours, readying himself for another round. "it’s like my dick is constantly hard for you."

just like baekhyun, your desire for him is insatiable—you’re always wanting him, always ready. that’s why you barely flinch at the sensitivity gnawing at your senses when the tip of his throbbing dick presses against your heated core. the anticipation only heightens your need, making every nerve in your body come alive.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close until your faces are mere inches apart. with a playful glint in your eyes, you tease, "our neighbors are going to hate us, aren’t they?"

baekhyun’s grin is wicked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "yes, they will," he agrees, his voice low and full of promise. before you can respond, he captures your lips in a fiery kiss, his urgency and desire palpable. the kiss is fierce and consuming, stealing your breath away as he deepens it, each movement charged with the intensity of his need.

"this is home,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice warm and soothing. his hands grip your waist, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as your bodies meld together in a passionate embrace. “you are my home.”

every kiss, every touch, shows how electric and real your connection is. it’s like the world outside doesn’t even matter—it's just you two, totally lost in this moment.

"you are my home," you repeat back to him.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 a/n: two songs inspired me to write this!!! linked in the title hehe omg baekhyun is so 🫦 in this lol can #confirm firsthand that this is how he lays down the pipe ok (not rly but i don't think its so far fetched)

baekhyun sits on the edge of his desk in his dimly lit home office, the dissertation on his computer screen long forgotten. his eyes drift to the sheer curtains, gently moving with the breeze from his open window. hours pass quietly, and his patience grows thin, stretched to its limit. hidden behind the ghostface mask, his deep brown eyes stay locked on you, his alluring neighbor next door.

outside, the world blurs into the background as he tunes out the laughter of the children in your care, his gaze completely captured by your captivating presence. earlier, he had seen the parents wave goodbye, their silly costumes hinting at a halloween party awaiting them. it was no surprise they chose you to babysit tonight; you were the life of the party, casting a spell on the kids in a way that even sabrina spellman would envy.

every movement of yours is etched into the chaotic corners of his mind. you embody perfection as you effortlessly play dress-up with the kids, sharing sweet treats and settling in for another tim burton film. that beautiful smile adorns your lips—a smile that, while it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, is enough. enough to delight the children, enough to maintain appearances. but baekhyun sees beyond the surface; he can read the subtle nuances that betray your true feelings. he knows that if these were your children—his and yours—you would shine with a warmth and devotion that’s unmistakable. the mere thought triggers a fire within him, sending a rush of desire coursing through his veins, and a low groan escapes his lips. but how could he ever convince you to have his kids when you don’t see him that way?

he knows he needs a plan—a way to draw you in and make you see the real him. in his mind, he's a catch, someone truly special. he tells himself he's a good guy, a smart one, too, with a promising career as a psychologist and a hefty retirement plan waiting for him. he believes he’s perfect for you, convinced that he could take care of you in ways no one else could. little does he realize, he’s always watching from the shadows, convinced that his intentions are pure, even as his obsession grows deeper.

and after all, he knows so much about you. he’s aware that you’ve recently moved here from a few towns over, stepping into a new life as a single woman with no kids. he would never forget seeing you for the first time. it was a sunny spring day, the weather was perfect, the moving truck parked in the drive way out front, while watching your family and friends help unload and organize the furniture in your new house. 

you’ve opened a small, cozy bakery, every pastry crafted with love and care. the warm, inviting space reflects your personality—painted in shades of your favorite color. scattered horror movie posters, especially scream, show your love for slasher films.

from his office window, he watches. he can see straight into your living room, where your tv bathes the room in a soft light. you’re always lounging on the couch in those tiny shorts that make his mind race. weekends are your time, dedicated to marathons of horror films, with scream playing over and over, clearly your favorite.

you’re all alone in that big house, and he can’t shake the feeling that you need him. he’d be the missing puzzle piece—fitting you perfectly. he imagines himself slipping into your life, the one who helps you at the bakery and shares your love for horror. he envisions nights where your screams of pleasure would align perfectly with the shrieks on the screen as he brings you to your climax, down on his knees before you, his head between your legs. 

baekhyun fondly recalls the day, just after your move-in, when the mailman mistakenly dropped your letters into his mailbox. a wicked grin spread on his face at the memory; finally, he could introduce himself. after thirty minutes of rehearsing his lines in front of the mirror, he stands at your door, donning his friendliest smile, excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. 

when the door swings open, he’s struck breathless by your presence—so devastatingly beautiful, you. he notices the broom in your hand, hinting that you’ve been tidying up. you wore denim overalls over a simple tank top. your hair is swept up in a claw clip, with a few loose strands gently framing your face. sweat glistens on your forehead, clinging to the sides of your cheeks, accentuating your expression of confusion.

“oh. um, hi? can i help you?” you ask politely, a hint of an awkward smile gracing your lips.

baekhyun snaps out of his daze, realizing he’s been standing there in silence. he clears his throat, shaking off the momentary haze before speaking, “hi, i’m your next-door neighbor, baekhyun. welcome to the neighborhood. um, i believe this is yours; it was in my mailbox.” he offers you the mail, his nervousness evident in his slightly trembling hands.

you invite him inside for a glass of lemonade, gratitude dancing in your eyes as you thank him for the mix-up. with a playful tone, you mention how you’re still getting used to the kindness of people in smaller towns. as you lead him to the kitchen, you apologize for the clutter of boxes and bubble wrap scattered around. he takes a seat at the table, casually glancing around while you fetch the drinks. his eyes wander to the living room bookshelf, where a few self-help books catch his attention. baekhyun, not missing a beat, shares that he’s a psychologist, mainly focusing on writing dissertations to bring fresh perspectives to cognitive psychology. you find his work captivating—so much so that you tell him, with genuine admiration, that people like him make the world a better place.

oh, if only you knew.

as you talk, you weave together the threads of your life—how you left everything behind after a painful breakup with the man you once believed would be you’d grow old and gray with. the memory stings, recalling how he would betray your trust with your best friend while you were away on business trips. you share how that heartbreak changed everything, ultimately guiding you to this charming old house that now feels like home. 

you explain how you quit your old job, a role that never truly fulfilled you. then, your eyes light up as you reveal your childhood dream of opening a bakery—a dream you’re finally chasing. you’ve even signed the lease for a cute little space right in the heart of downtown, a step closer to making that dream a reality. 

unbeknownst to you, as you sit beneath the soft glow of your kitchen light, baekhyun feels an overwhelming wave of desire wash over him. he’s rock hard beneath the kitchen table, ever since you opened the door and welcoming him in. he’s utterly entranced by the way your hands unconsciously glide over your bare thigh as you speak, igniting a fire within him. the light in your eyes sparkles with passion, your voice a melodic cadence as you share your visions for your bakery—the delicate pastries and savory sandwiches that will soon fill your charming shop. it’s all too much for him; you seem perfect—too perfect for this world.

then, as you lick the last drop of lemonade from the rim of your glass, the sinful thought of those same lips and tongue and how they’d feel on his aching dick pushes him to reach his climax. a shudder runs through him, and he bites back a groan, hiding it behind an exaggerated yawn. he blames it on the sleepless nights spent in research. thankful for the baggy black sweats he wears, he quickly excuses himself, a rush of embarrassment flooding his cheeks as he retreats, relieved that the fabric conceals the mess he’s made underneath.

after that, the interactions blend into casual small talk and fleeting waves of hellos and goodbyes, leaving him longing for more of those stolen moments with you.

he remembers spending hours diving into your social media after your first meeting, each scroll revealing new pieces of your story. in just a few hours, he learned so much about you. he knows your favorite foods, cocktails, and music, and he can name all the concerts and festivals you’ve attended, along with the places, dates, and people you went with. he’s familiar with all the vacations you’ve taken and the hobbies that make you smile. every like and dislike, every old post of you and your ex-boyfriend, painted a picture of who you are—one that captivated him completely.

thoughts of that past lover linger like shadows in his mind, the one you left behind in search of solace. the idea that someone could wound you so deeply, sending you fleeing to a new town, sets off a fierce rage within him. he clenches his fist around the knife resting against his thigh, its cold steel spinning slowly between his fingers, a dark reminder of the lengths he might go to. 

he could kill him. both of them—your douchebag ex and slut of a best friend. the thought excited him, a twisted thrill coursing through his veins. he imagined taking his time, savoring every moment as their lives faded away. a laugh might escape him as he’d watch the light leave their eyes, knowing he was doing it all for you—the love of his life. just the thought of your smile and the melody of your laughter quickened his heartbeat. he would go to any lengths to ensure your happiness, willing to pay any price to keep you safe. all you’d have to do is say the word.

just then, snapping out of his thoughts, the parents return, their footsteps echoing on the driveway before a knock sounds at the door. the children, who’ve been squealing with laughter all night, race to the entryway, eager to greet their parents, still decked out in their poorly chosen costumes. and finally—finally—they shuffle out one by one, leaving the house to fall into a peaceful, almost eerie silence, with only you left to occupy the night. 

this is it. the moment has arrived, the one he’s been anticipating all night.

baekhyun fished a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, the hastily scrawled digits smudged and jumbled—a chaotic reflection of his flustered thoughts. these were the personal details he had picked up while lounging on his porch, book in hand and coffee in the other, absorbed in the quiet of the morning. he could still hear the rhythm of your breath from your daily jog as you approached your house, your voice lilting with familiarity as you chatted on your phone, casually reciting your number to the person on the other end. with a decisive flick of his wrist, he pulled out his phone, his fingers dancing across the screen with a fluidity born from habit, dialing your number with a sense of anticipation thrumming in his chest.

his gaze remained locked on the window, watching intently as you casually tossed a bag of popcorn into the microwave, the scent of buttery goodness soon filling the air. you moved effortlessly, rifling through netflix’s horror category, your face illuminated by the screen's eerie glow. the flickering light danced across your features, highlighting your concentration as you searched for the perfect scare to accompany your night.

his anticipation tightens the air, but you don’t even glance at your phone when it buzzes. the silence on your end feels louder than it should, and baekhyun’s jaw clenches. a low, guttural frustration threatens to escape his throat, his grip on the knife at his side growing dangerously tense. he draws in a deep breath, the cool metal pressing against his palm. stay calm, he tells himself. his pulse thrums in his ears as he gives you one more chance.

the microwave chimes, a cheerful reminder that your popcorn is ready. you open the door, the warm, buttery aroma spilling out like a cozy embrace, wrapping around you as you pour the fluffy kernels into a bowl. your gaze shifts to the phone screen—an unknown number flashes, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "oh, fuck me," you mutter under your breath, barely loud enough to be heard. one of the kids must have left a toy behind again, refusing to sleep without it. you sigh at the thought, exasperation bubbling up as you reach for the phone, its persistent ringing cutting through the quiet.

"hello?" you answer, forcing a brighter tone, only to be met with silence—except for the faint, unsettling sound of heavy breathing on the other end. you have no idea that the caller is watching you through his window, eyes locked on your every move, his breath ragged as his hand strokes himself, utterly fixated on the sight of you.

you don’t let them get a word in. “go bother someone else, you freak,” you snap, cutting them off as you toss your phone onto the kitchen island with a frustrated clatter. leaning over the counter, you absentmindedly crunch popcorn between your teeth, your thoughts drifting. after hours of looking after a group of loud, sugar-fueled brats—who were mostly well-behaved—the last thing you need is some creep making prank calls.

when the phone rings again, a surge of frustration rises. you snatch it up, already preparing to unload a string of curses. but the words die on your lips the moment you hear the low, menacing voice on the other end. it snakes through the receiver, making your stomach drop. 

"you’ll be fucking sorry if ya do that again, sweetheart."

a sharp thud strikes the side of your house, the sound unsettling in the stillness of the night. your breath hitches, pulse racing. just a cat, you tell yourself, forcing down the panic that claws at your chest. you pull the phone from your ear, fingers trembling as you hover over the screen, daring yourself to hang up. you could call 911 in seconds. so fast. 

"don't test me." the voice on the other end, deep and edged with malice, seeps into your veins, freezing you in place. "or i'll have to come in there... and make you regret it." 

your throat tightens. compliance feels like your only option.

your mind is spinning with confusion, thoughts crashing into each other. are you really thinking about provoking this mystery guy, just out of curiosity? you've seen enough horror movies to know the warning: get too close, and you could end up cut to pieces the second he walks through your door.

“what do you want?” you manage to ask, your voice quivering like a fragile leaf in the wind, much to baekhyun’s delight. a smirk dances on his lips as he leans closer, tempted to retract his earlier words. the urge to break in and claim you overwhelms him, a primal instinct igniting within. the way you nervously bite your bottom lip and toy with the hem of your shirt suggests a part of you wouldn’t entirely mind if he did. he can sense it—the shiver in your breath, the heat rising in your cheeks—as if his voice alone is enchanting, stirring an undeniable desire deep within you.

the quiver in your voice sends a thrill through him, a captivating note of fear he savors like fine wine. “no need to be frightened, princess. don’t let those tears spill just yet,” baekhyun teases, his gaze piercing and calculating as he studies your every reaction. “just follow my lead, and i promise, nothing terrible will happen to you.” 

before you can form the words to question his intentions, he leans closer, a predatory glint in his eyes. “now, i want you to put on a little show for me. undress.” 

the thought of performing a sultry striptease for a mysterious, menacing stranger sends a thrilling jolt through you, awakening a passionate fire deep within. yet, it’s the image of your nosy neighbors catching even the slightest glimpse of the entire spectacle that truly makes your heart race, heat pooling low in your core. especially your irresistibly handsome psychologist neighbor—the one who sent your heart into a flurry the day he delivered your mail. the one who makes you blush every time you exchange a casual wave while jogging through the neighborhood, your pulse quickening at the mere sight of him. the one who occupies your thoughts late at night, a persistent whisper in your mind as you find yourself lost in fantasies, touching yourself in the shower, on the bed, and even on the couch. 

baekhyun, oblivious to this electric twist of your fantasy, doesn’t realize he wouldn’t need to intimidate you to stir this desire. just the thought of it has you growing increasingly wet, a delicious tension building with every pulse of anticipation. with a breathless flutter in your chest, you pull the phone away from your face, switching it to speaker mode to free your hands, your mind swirling with the provocative images dancing just beneath the surface.

“if you hang up on me again, i’m coming in, baby,” baekhyun purred, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as his gaze roamed hungrily over you. your heart raced as you slowly grabbed the bottom of your shirt and puling it over your head, revealing the smooth skin beneath, the absence of a bra heightening the tension in the air. the soft fabric slipped from your fingers, pooling on the hardwood floor like a forgotten memory.

“that’s right, angel. show me how soft those beautiful tits are,” you eagerly comply with his instructions, surrendering to the bewitching demands of the distorted voice on the line. your fingers find the hardened buds, pinching and teasing them, drawing out a moan that escapes your lips like a whispered secret. every touch is a spark of pleasure, a sweet indulgence for the faceless stranger lurking at the other end of the call.

baekhyun hums, the sound low and approving, sending a shiver straight through you. your mind races, painting vivid scenes of him pleasuring himself, every motion playing out in your head. "are you getting wet?" he asks, his voice thick with confidence and desire, completely unashamed.

“mhm,” you moan, the sound spilling from your mouth before you even realize it, your fingers swirling around the sensitive buds, lost in a haze of pleasure and anticipation.

“show me.” his voice drips with urgency, each demand more fervent than the last. your breaths come in shallow gasps, the heat of the moment thickening the air around you. you can almost envision him behind the glass, furiously pleasuring himself, absorbed by your every movement. a pang of desire surges within you as you long for him to emerge from the shadows, to reveal the beautiful mess he’s making of himself—flesh against flesh, desire laid bare.

“what's on your mind, princess?” baekhyun’s voice pierces the intoxicating silence, and you realize you’ve been lost in your thoughts, eyes tightly shut against the overwhelming sensation coursing through you. you feel a tingle ripple across your body, heat blooming in various spots as you instinctively begin to explore the terrain of your own desire, your fingers tracing the curves and dips that make you ache for him even more.

"how i love being bossed around like this." the words slip from your lips, dripping with a shameless allure, and the thrill of your own audacity leaves you breathless, too intoxicated to feel regret. a lush moan escapes as your fingers wander, seeking the neglected warmth between your legs, the rough fabric of your denim teasingly obstructing your touch. 

baekhyun’s eyes widen, a quiet laugh almost slipping out at how bold you’ve become. aren’t you an easy little thing? how fast did he get this unfiltered side of you to show—five, maybe six minutes? you moan softly in his ear as you find the perfect angle to touch yourself, waves of pleasure rippling through you. “oh, god,” you gasp, your voice shaky and soft. his breathing picks up, more frantic now, as he watches your every move.

“show me,” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing whisper that cuts through the stillness of the night. “spread your legs in front of the window, let me watch you.” 

to his surprise, your anticipation matches his own. you lean back, pressing your spine against the side of the couch, ensuring your silhouette is perfectly framed for his hungry gaze. 

he watches closely, his breath catching as you slip out of your shorts, the fabric gliding down your legs. you obey his command eagerly, spreading your legs the moment you're free, revealing yourself to him. the air feels electric, every move adding to the tension between you, pulling him in like a magnetic force of pure desire.

baekhyun’s tongue glides over his lips, drawn to the enticing glimmer that dances on your most intimate folds. “touch yourself,” he commands, urging you to imitate him. you find yourself in the cozy confines of your living room, curtains drawn wide open, exposing you to the well-lit street where the remnants of the halloween night linger. it's well past midnight; the trick-or-treaters have long retreated to their homes. the thought of being caught sends a thrill through both your bodies, a delicious shiver that only heightens the atmosphere.

your fingers glide over your throbbing nub, a sense of urgency building within you as you quicken your pace. baekhyun’s voice breaks through the haze, showering you with praise that excites your desire even further, pushing you to explore your body with passion under his lustful gaze.

“that’s right, baby,” baekhyun murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper that sparks a flame deep within you, sending shivers straight to your throbbing core. his pet names wrap around you like a velvet ribbon and you can’t get enough of it. “ya look so sexy, playing with your pretty pussy for me, princess. she’s drenched for me—so fucking soaked, just from the sound of my voice. you’re leaking onto those floors, all for me, aren’t you?”

he huffs into the phone, the breathless sound thick with need, feeling himself teetering on the edge of bliss. baekhyun fights the urge to shut his eyes, longing to immerse himself in the sensations you’re creating, but he can’t bear to miss a single moment of your tantalizing display. instead, he leans into his words, weaving a web of longing to stave off the impending climax, each syllable dripping with desire.

you’re caught in a fit of sobs and whimpers, completely unable to rein in your emotions. unconsciously, you part your legs as wide as they can go, igniting a delicious burn in your thighs that only heightens your desperation. “you don’t feel embarrassed? hah. playing with yourself like this for a stranger?” his words, juvenile and taunting, only fuel your growing need. you swallow back a sharp retort, wary of the consequences of your attitude. instead, your fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, a forbidden pleasure that leaves you breathless and craving more.

“i-i wouldn’t usually—hnnnghh” your words falter, swallowed by a breathy moan that escapes your lips, the rest of your sentence fading into oblivion. desire surges through you as you feel yourself teetering on the precipice of pleasure, mirroring his own urgency. in that moment, the conversation drifts away, leaving only the sweet sound of your shared, exasperated moans hanging in the air, a testament to the intoxicating connection between you. “but how could i resist? i like you telling me what to do. mmm, and i bet your real voice sounds even sexier.”

baekhyun grunts, his breath hitching as he grips himself, thumb gliding over the sensitive slit and spreading precum across the flushed tip. “don’t worry. you’ll find out soon enough, i promise,” he rasps, his voice low and rough like gravel. you can feel the urgency in his movements, hear the slick sound of his hand moving faster, and even though you haven’t seen his face, the vivid image of his throbbing cock, his eyes fixed on your trembling, bare body, consumes you. your vision fades to white, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you as you give in to the pleasure, squirting onto the window and leaving shiny streaks behind.

baekhyuns groans in your ear, his voice dripping with reckless abandon, echoing through the stillness of the night. he’s completely devoid of class, his primal instincts overpowering any sense of decorum. as he reaches his peak, he releases himself with a fervor that sends a cascade of warmth spilling across the window of his office, just as you did. 

breathless, he watches you through a haze of lust, his eyes heavy-lidded yet filled with a playful intensity. you bite your lip, a gesture that betrays your yearning for more, your body aching for repeated waves of ecstasy. is it possible you don't want this night to slip away into oblivion? 

“huh. i didn’t think i could do that,” you think outloud watching your juices slowly drip down the window.

“i bet ya could do it again. how ‘bout we use my fingers this time? if you’re a good girl maybe i’ll use my mouth, too.” he teases, a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. you can't help but shake your head and roll your eyes at the audacity of this mystery man on your phone.

“awwww, why not?” he whines, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. “don’t ya trust me?” his teasing banter lingers in the air, crackling with unspoken desires, making you feel breathless with anticipation.

you can’t quite wrap your mind around how he can ask you a question like that, as if the two of you aren’t complete strangers. it’s as if the memory of his earlier threats has been wiped clean, leaving only the enticing edge of his voice in its place. some twisted part of you takes the reins, shoving your common sense aside. “i’ll treat ya right,” he promises, his tone smooth like velvet. 

your eyes drop, embarrassment flooding through you as you notice the wetness he's drawn out of you with nothing more than his voice. a tightness forms in your chest, the fear of feeling foolish creeping in, but your arousal only grows, pushing aside any doubt. the tingling in your clit fades, shifting into a steady, throbbing rhythm—an unspoken invitation.

baekhyun watches with a teasing spark in his eyes as your shaky legs carry you toward the front door. in no time, he’s outside, making his way to you. he hears the soft clatter of you fumbling with the lock, and when it clicks open, it feels like an unspoken invitation for him to step inside. the tension between you hums, daring him to close the gap and take control, face to face. the air crackles with the thrill of giving in, charged with a magnetic pull that’s impossible to resist.

you fling the door open, and there he is—a tall figure standing silently in a ghostface costume. your eyes trail over him in confusion, pausing when they land on his shoes. you know those sneakers. the kind hypebeasts chase after, selling for a fortune after retail. only one person on this block would own them. only one.

and you’re sure you saw him earlier today through that very window your orgasm stains, wearing those exact shoes, hauling bags of groceries into his house.

“baekhyun?” you breathe, suddenly feeling small. a flutter of butterflies coursing through your stomach as your gaze lands on his right hand, gripping his phone. your number is glaringly lit on the screen.

“trick or treat?” his voice dances like a playful tune behind the mask, a teasing reminder of the pleasure he just gave you. he slowly lifts the mask from his face, letting it rest atop his head, revealing a smile so radiant it could light up the empire state building. the smile feels oddly out of place, totally clashing with the filthy phone call you just shared—a side you'd never expect from a psychologist.

and then it hits you—you don’t truly know him. you have no idea that, when you're not around, he slips the spare key hidden under the rock in your front yard and lets himself into your home. you’re oblivious to him wandering through your space, climbing the stairs to your bedroom, rifling through your drawers, trying to piece together the mystery of who you are. he’s desperate to learn you in ways your belongings might reveal.

you’d never guess that while you’re out early in the morning, heading to the bakery before dawn, he’s inside, using that same key. one hand is wrapped fisting himself while the other clutches your worn underwear, pressed against his nose, inhaling your scent like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

you remain completely unaware of it all. as his eyes lock onto yours, heat rushes to your cheeks, creeping up the back of your neck. 

you end the call, watching his screen fade to black, the sudden silence feeling heavier than it should.

wait, when did you give him your number? 

a shiver runs down your spine, an uneasy tension settling in. you try to push it away, but the feeling lingers like a whisper in your mind, urging you to stay on guard. you shake your head, convincing yourself you’re overreacting. it’s a small town; everyone knows each other. he must have gotten your number from someone else. or did you give it to him when you first met? maybe he found it on your bakery's instagram. yup, that has to be it.

feeling a surge of reassurance, you smile back at him. “i didn’t know psychologists enjoyed dressing up for halloween and playing pranks. i always thought doctors were above that,” you tease, your heart racing as he gazes down at you, a predatory glint in his eyes, as if he’s about to destroy you in the most tempting way imaginable.

“there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he replies, stepping confidently into your home and locking the door behind him. his voice is low and inviting. “why don’t i show you?”

he slides the ghostface mask back on, the sinister smile of the mask contrasting with the anticipation in the air. he steps closer, backing you into the living room, his hands slide to your waist, his thumbs drawing soft circles on your sides, sending a rush through your body. you can feel your heart pounding, the air between you buzzing with tension. you bite your lower lip, trying to hide a smile, but the excitement overflows, slipping out as a playful grin.

"you can do whatever you want with me," your voice low and dripping with promise as you guide him toward the couch. the low hum of tension crackles in the air as you straddle him, sinking onto his lap. the air is thick with tension as you settle onto his lap, straddling him. the moment your thighs meet his, you feel his hardened length pressing against your skin, lighting a surge of heat that races straight to your core. his hands glide up the smooth skin of your thighs until they reach your ass, where he cups you firmly, squeezing gently. your breath hitches, the sensation flooding you with anticipation as your body responds to the undeniable pull between you two. the sensation stirs something deep within, wetness pooling between your legs.

"but please, don’t kill me, mr. ghostface..." you whisper softly, your warm breath brushing against his neck, your lips almost touching his skin. you glide them upward, the gentle, teasing contact sending shivers of excitement between you. when you reach the curve of his ear, you linger just long enough to spark an irresistible shiver through him. “i wanna be in the sequel.”

 ੈ✩‧₊ a/n: thank u to this anon for the idea!!! i didn't think i would ever write something like this, but here we are. #neversaynever i guess. oh, and a happy halloweenie to those who celebrate!!!!! <3 what are you dressing up as? stay safe my precious babies love u lotz mwah

“Don’t piss me off.” You overhear Kyungsoo say to one of the other line cooks, making you gulp nervously. “Who the fuck prepped these tomatoes?! They’re all crushed!” He continues cursing to his kitchen. 

You’re shitting bricks right now. You have to ask Kyungsoo a substitution question and you were guaranteed to be yelled at. You can feel your pits grow moist at the thought of confronting him. 

“Um, sorry. Kyungsoo?” You try to speak up but the dishes and sounds of pots and pans are deafening. You clear your throat. “Chef?” 

“For fuck’s sake,” Your lips fold into your mouth as you finally catch his attention. The very sight of you is enough to piss him off already. You can’t breathe. “What is it, princess? I better not hear the word substitution come from that mouth of yours.” 

Your lips press into a straight line before you take a deep breath in. 

“Um,” You hesitate. “Table 2 was wondering if they could change the eggs in the eggs bene to ham.” 

Fuck. 

Kyungsoo slowly looks up at you and fucking glares at you. You can feel the tears well up as he prepares to yell at you. You see his jaw tighten, trying to hold back the last bit of sanity he had before he goes off on you. 

“Are you a fucking idiot?” His brows are knit together. The whole kitchen has stopped or at least moved slower to hear the absolute chaos that’s about to ensue. “What the fuck is wrong with you that you would have the fucking balls to come here and ask me to sub the eggs in a fucking eggs bene. The answer is fuck off. Get out of my kitchen.” 

Your eyes are blurred by your tears. You run out of the kitchen, completely embarrassed. You run past your manager who seems genuinely concerned and speed straight for the bathroom. You hide in one of the stalls to fully let yourself cry. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” You swear out of frustration, covering your face with your hands. 

You loved this job but ever since they hired this new head chef; your life has been miserable. You weren’t able to think straight. You were making rookie mistakes all over again: forgetting to print tickets, forgetting to bring people their ketchup, and most importantly, forgetting that you shouldn’t take what the mean line cooks say to heart. 

You couldn’t afford to quit this job. Literally everything else at this job was fun. You love talking to customers. You love your manager. You love the people you worked with. It was just him. 

You hate to be dramatic but this man made your life a living hell. 

You pull yourself together and take a deep breath in. “You can do this.” You encourage yourself. “Only 2 hours left.” 

You head to Table 2 to apologize on behalf of the kitchen for not being able to accommodate their egg allergy. “I would like to apologize but our chef is unable to substitute the eggs for- Is that ham?” You point at the customer’s plate, completely confused by the sight of the piggy meat sitting on top of the english muffin.  

“Yes, thank you so much for making this happen!” The customer beams at you, happily shoving a piece of his ham into his mouth. 

“Oh, of course.” You fake a smile before refilling his cup with water. 

You look back at the kitchen door, unable to piece what just happened together. 

The rest of your shift goes smoothly as you avoid going back to the kitchen for anything, asking your coworkers to grab any extra condiments for you instead. You’re helping close the front, mopping the last bit of the dirty floor when you hear the door swivel open. You watch Kyungsoo leave the kitchen with the same unfriendly face he always has. He almost passes you before you stop him in his step, lightly grazing his arm.  

“Thank you for making the sub.” You say, doing your best not to make your voice waiver.  

“Next time, lead with the allergy.” He replies, watching your hand on his arm. You drop it like his jacket is on fire. “Have a good rest of your day.” 

What a jerk. 

————

The brunch rush was extremely hectic this Monday. It was a long weekend which meant that there were a lot more people going out to eat than usual. You did not waste a single minute, making sure to refill everyone’s drinks, get everyone’s orders, and check on your tables regularly. You were finally getting your groove back.  

Until you make eye contact with the six-top at Table 5. 

Your eyes widen. Your chest drops to your ass. Oh, fuck me. You rush to the computer and type in their order as fast as you can. They’ve been waiting for 15 minutes and — 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You wince when you hear Kyungsoo yell through the walls. You need to hide. Quickly, if you still liked working here. You find yourself shuffling around, unsure of where to go next. You just refilled everyone’s cups. You struggle to find an excuse to hide amongst the customers. 

“Y/N!”  

Shit. 

You walk in the kitchen like a guilty puppy with her tail tucked between her legs. Your hands are clasped together behind your back, sweating profusely. Kyungsoo looks up and locks eyes with you, sad little puppy you. 

“Well, what the fuck? Is this your first time working during a rush? When a group of six comes in, you warn us. Is that so fucking hard for your pea-sized brain to understand? Fuck, you’re hopeless.” Kyungsoo’s voice grows louder, stronger, angrier. He’s fuming, his eyebrows raising every time he finds a new way to insult you. His eyeballs look like they want to pop the fuck out of his face. If this were a cartoon, there would be smoke coming from his ears. 

You can feel the tears well up again. Before you can even let them escape, you run into the walk-in fridge. There were way too many customers for you to hide in your usual spot. As soon as the door closed behind you, you burst into tears, falling to the ground and covering your face once again. 

“I’m such an idiot.” You whisper to yourself. The cold air feels refreshing after a good tearful cry. You take a deep breath, ready to go back out when the door opens. 

“Are you really hiding here when I just said there’s a rush?”  

You pout at the man who made you cry. He followed you in here too? He really will be the death of you. 

“I just needed a minute.” You swallow the bubble stuck in your throat. You wipe the remaining tears with your sleeves as you stand up. Your head lowers immediately when your eyes meet his intimidating pair. 

He stares at you a little longer and nods slowly. His arms are crossed, judging you from above. You can see why he got this far in life to work in a fancy brunch spot in the heart of the city. His stance was demanding, powerful.  

“I’m sorry. I forgot. I should have told you as soon as they walked in.” You can’t do anything now but apologize.  

He studies you for a second. You prepare for the next insult, for the next reminder that you are incompetent. Instead, he exhales through his nose. 

"Don’t be too hard on yourself.” You look up at him, surprised. Are these words of comfort? “It happens. Just try not to piss me off again.” Ah, there it is. 

He exits the cold room, leaving you alone. It’s weird. You don’t feel like a complete idiot anymore but you don’t feel completely comforted either. What you do feel is that Kyungsoo might not be a complete asshole. 

————

Life is so much easier with the new line cook (not Kyungsoo). The balance had been restored. When Sehun first called you princess and offered you free fries, you almost fell in love. Finally, a line cook who is acting the way he should be.  

You can tell it kills Kyungsoo every time Sehun defends you and says, “she’s just a girl”. To which Kyungsoo responds with “a girl without a brain”. It’s become somewhat fun and playful working with the kitchen. You haven’t cried since Sehun joined the kitchen staff and you are planning on keeping it that way. It’s great. 

You were opening the front today and hoping to get free breakfast from Sehun at this early hour. You skip to the kitchen with a gleeful smile, excited to see your new work husband. You immediately frown when he’s nowhere to be seen.  

“Oh, it’s you.” You’re met with a very serious looking Kyungsoo prepping the fruits, brows furrowed in complete concentration. The angry gremlin seems to have a sense of humour as he scoffs at your little comment. Not once tearing his gaze away from his stupid fruit. 

“No breakfast for you.” He practically sings mockingly, playful smirk appearing at the corner of his lips. You hope he doesn’t see you mock him, mouthing ‘no breakfast for you’ in the most condescending way. Sehun would’ve found it funny. 

"Devil’s spawn.” You mutter under your breath as you walk back to the front of the restaurant. 

You miss the way Kyungsoo chuckles as he continues to prep the ingredients. 

“Good morning my princess!” Sehun comes in through the front door right on time. Your eyes gleam, waving at him excitingly.  

“Morning Sehun!” You greet him happily. You look at him expectantly and flutter your lashes exaggeratingly. He laughs as he heads to the kitchen. You pout dramatically as he passes you. 

“Give me 5 minutes. I’ll make your burrito once I settle in.” Sehun peeks his head out the door. Your pout quickly turns into a bright smile.  

It grows a bit bigger when the small gap before the door closes reveals Kyungsoo glaring at Sehun. No breakfast for me, huh? You scoff to yourself before you start your day. You start by removing the chairs from the table. Then move on to cleaning and setting the tables.  

There has never been a better opener, you smile to yourself and admire your work. You head to the coffee station and start brewing the coffee. Sehun comes out just in time with two burritos in hand.  

“Oh thank you,” You practically moan. You’ve been craving this ever since he made it for you the first time you opened together. You take a bite. “Marry me?” 

“I already set the date, baby.” He beams, happy that you enjoy his cooking. He cheers his burrito with yours and takes a bite of his own. And you two eat peacefully together, standing behind the counter in fear of making a mess anywhere else.  

The peaceful bubble is burst when the angry gremlin walks in.  

He doesn’t say anything, just eyeing you two before he moves past you to get to the coffee machine. He sighs when he sees it’s not ready yet. “What do you even do here?” He shoots you a glare for not having the coffee brewed in time for his morning routine.  

“You can wait 10 minutes.” Sehun defends you. Kyungsoo eyes you both, shifting from one to the other. Until they set on you.  

He leans in closer and lowly whispers in your ear, “Don’t involve yourself with my kitchen staff.” 

You try to bite back a rebuttal when your breath suddenly catches, realizing how close he actually is. This is the closest you’ve ever been. You step back to expand the space between you. You would never even think to date a line cook. As a waitress, you’ve seen that burn way too many times. What you and Sehun had was just harmless flirting.  

You can feel yourself grow hot in anger. Kyungsoo had no business to forbid you from seeing anyone. You hate him so much. And you loathe the way he’s just lingering near you while you eat your burrito.  

The coffee machine is hissing while Kyungsoo waits like he didn’t just whisper the most infuriating threat in your ear. You’re frowning at him, in complete disbelief that he would even say something like that to you. Who did he think he was? The machine calms down, indicating that it was ready. You watch as Kyungsoo pulls his sleeves up to reveal his forearms. He reaches for a mug near the machine. His fingers grip the mug and flip it upright with ease. He pours the coffee into his cup, you notice the sharp line on his forearm for the first time, so toned and defined.  

Your breathing is becoming heavier as you observe all his movements. You can feel yourself getting hotter each second passes that he calmly sips on his coffee. Your eyes can’t help but follow the movement of his throat when he swallows. He looks up from his cup and eyes you instead. That one look is enough to have you forgetting how to breathe but most importantly, you’ve forgotten all about the burrito in your hand. 

When Kyungsoo returns to the kitchen, you catch Sehun take a bite of his burrito, unable to suppress the grin forming on his face. He knows. He just watched you thirst all over his boss. Over a cup of coffee. You couldn’t believe it either. 

“What the fuck?” You mouth quietly to him, brows raised, surprised by your own actions. 

"Babe, we’re going to have to cancel the wedding.” 

You throw a piece of tomato at him. 

————

There’s another rush and this time Kyungsoo does not hold back. Unfortunately for you, Sehun took the day off so Kyungsoo was being relentlessly mean to you and only you. Everything you did was wrong, wrong, wrong. He was nitpicking, nagging, all of the above. He took it all out on you. And you just had to take it.  

“Sure, take the whole fucking day to grab your food. All this counter space is all for you, princess.”  

Again, he was being such an asshole.  

“You wanna ease up a bit, huh?” You channel your inner Sehun and get the confidence to talk back to him. His jaw tightens, clearly bothered that you would stand up to him. He doesn’t say anything. You quickly grab the food for your table before he decides to go off on you again. “Ass.” You mutter under your breath, low but loud enough for him to hear. 

To your surprise, he actually does ease up. Well, he doesn’t talk to you at all after that. It’s enough to get you through the day. You haven’t made a single mistake. And you managed to get Kyungsoo to shut up on your own, all without Sehun’s help. You might treat yourself to some ice cream on the way home.  

“Y/N” Kyungsoo’s low voice catches your attention before leaving for the day. He’s standing near the door to the kitchen. His expression is dark and unreadable to you. You swallow nervously. You wave at your coworker who was closing for the day before you walk to meet Kyungsoo in the kitchen. 

You walk inside his workspace and stand in front of him. He’s leaning against a counter, arms crossed. He’s looking at you like he’s trying really hard to form his next thought. You’re holding your breath for what he’s about to say, prepared for whatever he has to throw at you. 

“I’m sorry for my behaviour today. It was unfair to release my frustrations onto you. I have no excuse.”  

He’s apologizing? You stare at him, surprised. You were fully bracing yourself for a screaming match, ready to defend yourself against him.  

“You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know I’m sorry.” He continues. His eyes never leaving yours. He doesn’t look nervous at all. If anything, it looks like he actually means it.  

He gives you a small smile before he pats you on your shoulder and moves to exit the kitchen.  

Your body moves faster than your mind, your hand shooting out to grab Kyungsoo’s forearm. Seeing him smile and pat your shoulder stirs something inside of you. Something that was encouraging you to act irrationally.  

His gaze drops to your fingers wrapped around his arm before lifting back to you. “What are you-” 

Kyungsoo doesn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before you crash into his lips, kissing him hungrily. You have no idea what’s come over you. But you are so fucking happy when his hand finds its way around your hips while the other naturally finds its place at the back of your head. You thank the heavens that Kyungsoo takes over the kiss, immediately deepening it. 

Before you know it, you were hoisted up onto the counter that he had just cleaned. His hands are gripping your hips firmly, massaging your sides. You can feel yourself getting wetter with his every touch. His lips move against yours with ease and without pause, barely giving you any room to breathe. He’s kissing you like he’s been holding himself back. And maybe you were too. 

Your fingers play with the neckline of his white t-shirt, wanting to take it off him entirely like it’s personally offending you for being in the way of you and his bare chest.  

“Don’t,” His mouth hovers yours, tickling your lips. Your mind goes crazy, anticipating what he’ll say next. “stretch it.” He kisses you again. 

You roll your eyes. Of course he would criticize you even with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Take it off then.” You snake your hands under his shirt, attempting to help him take it off. He shakes his head, grabbing your wrists and pinning them back to your sides.  

“Jongdae’s outside.” He says lowly, peppering your jaw with kisses. You tilt your head, giving him more access of you. 

Like that’s supposed to stop either of you. 

“So?”  

You hear him groan frustratedly in your ear before he grabs your ass and carries you in the direction of the fridge. “Wait.” You say, panicking. You don’t want to freeze your tits off. “It’s cold in there.” 

He grabs the handle with one hand. “You’ll live.” He says before yanking the door open and carrying you inside the cold room. He sets you down on a cold, empty shelf, before he continues to tackle your lips. A soft whimper escapes your lips when you feel the coldness of the metal seep through your jeans. He starts massaging your inner thigh as if to warm you up. 

“These jeans fit you so nicely.” He doesn’t even glance down to look at your jeans, sucking on your neck instead. The realization hits you all at once. He's been checking you out all day. And suddenly his anger and frustration start to make sense. Why he got so mad at you for ‘flirting’ with Sehun, the random ‘pep-talk’ he gave you in this very room the impossible substitution exception he made for you. All these moments begin to merge into one big blob of realization that oh my god Chef Do Kyungsoo has the hots for you. 

Your hunger for him deepens. You don’t even know where to start. Without thinking, you grab his chin and force him to look at you. His eyes are hooded, overtaken by lust and fixated on you like you are the only one he wants.  

“I want you, Kyungsoo.”  

Kyungsoo hears you loud and clearly, moving quickly to slide your jeans off. You gasp when you feel his cold fingers against your bare skin. “It’s so cold.” You whine again. He gets on his knees and looks up at you. “I’ll warm you up in a sec.” 

Your jeans were cast off somewhere on the floor, leaving you in your underwear. You catch him smiling at the sight of you, legs wide open for him, shivering, waiting for him. His cock twitches just thinking about it.  

He blows a warm breath between your legs, sending shivers down your spine. Then, sliding your underwear to the side, gives you a long lick. You gasp at the sudden heat of his tongue. “You taste so good.” He says before returning to your folds and lapping his tongue up and down the split. You can hear how wet you’ve gotten. Kyungsoo is drinking you in like he’s been thirsty all day and you are the first taste of water. 

Your thighs clamp instinctively when he decides to add his fingers, fucking you as he continues to swirl his tongue around you. He has to use his free hand to move your thighs apart, massaging you instead. Your eyes shut as you feel your climax approaching. Kyungsoo immediately catches on, applying a lot more pressure onto your clit, sucking, licking, doing whatever fucking magic he was doing to get you there. He hooks his fingers so he’s now hitting your sweet spot. You moan his name breathily to let him know. You can feel him smile at the sound of your pretty voice and increases the speed of his fingers.  

“Kyungsooooo fuuuuuuuckkk” You groan, gushing all over his face. Your hands grip his hair, pulling him closer to you as you ride out your climax. He doesn’t stop sucking, wanting to drink all the juices spewing out of you. Your clit throbs, overstimulated, now sensitive to every flick of his tongue.  

Kyungsoo finally pulls back and presses a hungry kiss to your lips. “I’m not done with you yet.” He wipes the small tear from the corner of your eye with a gentle swipe of his thumb 

“I’m not either.” You’re staring up at him with the same amount of desperation. As promised, you reach for his belt buckle and undo it hurriedly. Kyungsoo pets your head, running his fingers through your hair as if to tell you what a good job you’re doing. You bite your lip when you pull down his pants to reveal the tent growing in his boxers. You look up at him before you descend to your knees. Kyungsoo stops you mid-way before grabbing something from the shelves. He drops it to the ground. “Towels?” You tilt your head, unsure what they were for. It can’t be a makeshift bed, you chuckle to yourself. 

“I don’t want you to hurt those pretty knees of yours, princess.” Kyungsoo smiles, flicking your chin ever so slightly. This was the most romantic shit that’s ever happened to you. The usually condescending pet name for you has softened, blossoming into something almost tender. The realization that Kyungsoo was on his knees not too long ago and he didn’t grab those towels for himself is making your heart race. 

You immediately get on your knees and rush to work, eager to return the favour. You feel like it's Christmas morning the way you are unwrapping him like he’s your present. You pull down his boxers to reveal his girthy length. In awe, you tilt your head up to meet his gaze, in disbelief that this belonged to Kyungsoo. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused; you’ve definitely stroked his ego with that reaction.  

You snap yourself out of it and lick the precum off his tip, earning you a sharp hiss from Kyungsoo. His hand grips your hair ever so slightly; you feel yourself grow surprisingly wetter. You drag your tongue across your palm and spit on his dick before wrapping your hand around him, slowly stroking him up and down. You tilt your head sideways and run your tongue along one of his balls.  

“Oh fuck” Kyungsoo swears at the sudden touch.  

You tease him for a bit longer with your tongue before you taking one side in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue while your hand keeps pumping him up and down. You feel his cock twitch in your grasp.  

“You’re driving me crazy, fuck.” You glance up at him. Kyungsoo is looking down at you with pure adoration. You smile with your eyes as you continue to slobber over his ballsack, switching from one to the other. Saliva spewls out of your mouth as you take your time with him.  

“Fuck, slow down, princess.” 

You don’t slow down. 

Kyungsoo desperately needs you to suck his cock now. You were only at his balls and he already feels close to losing it. He grips your hair and forcefully removes you. You meet his gaze, out of breath, yet still smiling up at him like a brat.  

“You don’t listen.” He tsks, wiping the drool from your chin. He leans down to kiss you gently, his apology for yanking your hair. You didn’t mind it. It turns you on a lot more than you expected.  

“Now suck me off.” He murmurs lowly against your lips before straightening again and guiding your head back to him. Your eyes don’t leave his as you open wide and slide his length into your mouth slowly. Kyungsoo groans the moment you take all inches of him.  

“You’re so good to me. My princess.” His hand begins to move again, stroking your hair in slow, approving strokes. 

Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft, stroking him slightly as you bob your head up and down, swirling your tongue and sucking him in unison. The hum of the fridge fills the room, mixing with Kyungsoo’s moans and your slurping sounds. You were seriously hoping this fridge was as soundproof as Kyungsoo made it seem. You pick up your pace to Kyungsoo’s content. He’s close, his cock is twitching in your mouth. You’re a slobbering mess, drool spilling out of your mouth and leaking from your hand.  

Kyungsoo’s a moaning mess. “Fuck, princess. I’m so close.” You take your other hand and massage his balls. He groans, pushing your head closer to him as he empties himself in your mouth. You swallow every single drop. He releases his grip around your hair. Immediately, you show off your tongue to him, letting him know that you didn’t spill a single drop of him.  

“Ugh, you’re perfect, princess.” Both his hands fly to the sides of your face as he crashes his lips onto yours. He brings you back up to your feet and turns you around. He presses onto your back, lowering you so that you’re now bending over for him on the not-so-cold-anymore shelf. You look back at him, finding him stroke himself hard again as he stares at the view of your ass. 

“I can’t believe I get to fuck this pretty little pussy of yours.” He mutters, catching your gaze. He swipes his cock against your folds. “Shit, you’re still so wet.” You stare as he shows you wet you’ve become. You bite your lip when he shoves his fingers into his mouth to taste you. 

Without warning, he thrusts into you. You gasp at the sudden fullness, bending over so you were no longer facing him. 

His size was so thick. This was the first time you’ve felt like you were actually being stretched out. “You’re doing such a good job, taking me.” Kyungsoo praises you, hands massaging your ass and moving your hips back and forth as he fucks you. “Why can't you ever do a good job like this at work? Hm?” 

“Tell me you’ll do a good job next time.” Kyungsoo thrusts harder into you. You whimper, clenching around him out of surprise. “Answer me.” 

“I’ll do a good job next time.” You repeat after him. He pushes into you again, this time deeper. He halts, pressing his lips gently onto your shoulder.  

“Good girl.” He starts pounding into you desperately, recklessly. You squeal at the pure ecstasy. Kyungsoo has to wrap his hands around your mouth to shut you up. Maybe it wasn’t so soundproof.  

Kyungsoo is snapping his hips so quickly. Your eyes begin to well up in tears from how good he feels inside of you. He reaches down to your clit and applies pressure, rubbing you in circles in the same rhythm as he’s fucking you.  

You’re clenching around him, unable to take the overstimulation. “Cum for me, princess.” He practically growls in your ear, encouraging you to reach your end. You come undone to the sound of his voice like it was the password to your climax, walls clenching around him.  

“Kyungsoo” You moan, tiredly but Kyungsoo doesn’t stop fucking you. He continues, chasing his own. Not too long after, you feel him pull out of you and spill all over your ass. “Fuck.” He takes your chin in his grasp and kisses you so tenderly and so deeply. You forget where you are. You stay like that for a minute. 

“Is anybody still here?” Jongdae shouts out to no one in particular. “I’m closing the front!” 

“Yeah! In the fridge.” Kyungsoo shouts back. “I’ll take care of the back.” 

Using up what’s left of your energy, you turn back to look at him, surprised at how clear his voice was because you don’t think you can even croak out a sound. He laughs at you, kissing you sweetly on the lips. 

“Okay! Have a good rest of the day Chef!” Jongdae says his goodbye, interrupting the moment 

“You too!” Kyungsoo responds as he peppers kisses onto your back. 

“Fuck. Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” He pulls you up and helps you put your jeans back on. Your body was now sweaty, and it was a lot harder to put it on than to take it off. 

“Let me guess. Since the day you started here.” You scoff at him, having pieced together everything minutes ago. 

“Yes, fuck. And it didn’t help that you kept fucking up.” He presses his lips onto you again, never wanting to let a minute pass that he wasn’t kissing you. 

“Does this mean you’ll go easy on me now?” You ask sweetly, batting your lashes, hopeful. 

“Why?” He smirks, zipping his pants and fixing his belt. “You don’t like it when I make you cry?” 

“Oh, I love when you make me cry.” You say. “Just not when we’re working.”  

Kyungsoo chuckles. 

“Suck me off like that again and we’ll see.”  

“Still, I appreciate it.” You feel bashful, in spite of yourself. All semester, you’ve been watching this man at the front of the classroom, but it feels so different being with him alone. In lecture, he’s magnetic, explaining concepts with ease and humor. He takes every question seriously, and answers them in ways that makes everyone understand the topic better, even if they thought they did before. Being in such close proximity with him by yourself, though, is a new thing entirely. Having all that attention, that easygoing command of the room, focused solely on you makes you want to squirm in your seat a little bit. “I’m sure you have to get back home soon.”

“Hm… not really. I live alone, so I pretty much make my own schedule.”

“Alone?” you ask. You had always assumed someone as charismatic and, let’s face it, drop-dead gorgeous, would be taken. You try to sneak a glance at his left hand, but he catches the motion. He coughs awkwardly, interlacing his fingers together and pressing them against his lips, leaning his elbows on his desk.

“How can I help you today?”

You sigh, looking down at your hands, fiddling with the end of your skirt. “Well, I took your class this semester because I had a free elective and I’ve always wondered about psychology… but I’m afraid I like it too much.”

Professor Byun laughs. “Well, that’s wonderful! Why do you sound so down about it?”

“I graduate in a couple weeks,” you say. “With a degree in economics. I’ve never really been interested in it, but I’m good enough at math and I understand the concepts, so I stuck with it. But now…” Your voice trails off, and you have to will yourself to not choke up. “I’m afraid that I’ve signed myself up for a life that I don’t want.”

He frowns, dropping his hands to the desk. His expression becomes serious, then gives you a somber but reassuring smile. “I know it feels that way right now,” he says carefully. “But this is how life works. Trust me. You’re young, and you have time to make a career shift if you really want to.”

“But I—”

“Do you know what I have my Bachelor’s in?”

You blink. “I assumed Psychology…”

“It’s in Biostats.” He laughs. “I hated it. But just like you, I was good enough at math, and I understood everything. I was going to apply to medical school but I just couldn’t go through with it.” He rips a spare page out of a notepad and scribbles something down on it. “My good friend was doing a post-bac in Psychology and so I asked him to introduce me to the professor running it, and the rest is history.” He hands you the paper with a couple of emails, names, and phone numbers scribbled down. “These are some people I know that are open to post-bac’s that come from different backgrounds. And this,” he points at the last number, “is me. I’m pretty new to this university so I don’t have a formal lab set up, but I’m more than happy to be a contact for you if you want to keep pursuing this.”

The thoughtfulness of the gesture touches you. At most, you had thought that he would give you some generic advice and point you in the direction of someone who could help you further. But this was personal, heartfelt. “Thank you, Professor Byun,” you say, your voice barely coming out as more than a whisper. “This is so wonderful, I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” he replies. “Just out of curiosity, what aspects of the class specifically interest you?”

The two of you get wrapped up in conversation, completely invested in talking about various topics and concepts. It even gets to a point where you take out your notes, showing him the specific lectures that you found the most interesting. Professor Byun lights up completely, going off on excitable tangents and citing papers and names that mean nothing to you. He talks with the confidence and self-assuredness of an expert who’s been doing this for years, but with the passion of someone just starting out. It’s entirely captivating to watch and equally as fun to contribute to. A burst of pride blossoms in your chest every time he nods enthusiastically at your question, or comments on how astute your observation is. Time blurs together, and the two of you fail to notice the rapidly darkening sky through the window.

“So Aronson specifically disagreed with these two aspects of Festinger’s theory — ah!” A crack of thunder interrupts Professor Byun’s train of thought, causing him to jump a little in his seat. The cute gesture would have made you laugh if not for the dread and panic settling into your stomach.

“I forgot an umbrella,” you groan, looking outside. The sky has opened up in a matter of seconds, fat raindrops pattering against the ground. “And my roommates went home for the weekend so they can’t pick me up.”

Professor Byun is silent for a moment. “I can take you home.” You whip your head towards him and he backpedals, stammering over his words. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course. My car is right outside so I just thought—”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you interrupt him. “I just don’t want to impose on you more than I already have.” 

“You’re not imposing.” He smiles at you kindly. “If you’re fine with it, I’m happy to drive you.”

On the one hand, it’s a little strange to have your professor see where you live. But on the other hand, you really don’t want to call an Uber home. A small, tiny part of you also doesn’t want your time with him to end. Even if you don’t end up talking about social cognition on the drive home, his company is pleasant, filling you with a feeling of warmth. 

He drapes his blazer over your head moments before you step outside, shielding you from the rain’s assault. You follow him quickly to his car, which, as promised, is incredibly close to the building. He lets you type in your address in the car’s built-in GPS as he wipes rain droplets off of his glasses. 

The conversation on the way to your apartment shifts away from psychology to other aspects of both of your lives. You learn that Professor Byun has traveled to countless countries and loves to karaoke, and he’s working his way through finding the best cafes around the city. You give him a couple of your own recommendations, and lament moving back home to where there isn’t any good coffee. You might be imagining it, but you think that the corners of Professor Byun’s mouths tilt downward when you mention moving away.

All too quickly, you’re parked in the lot of your apartment building. “This is me,” you say, undoing your seatbelt. 

“Alright,” he says, a sigh hanging off the edge of the word. “I really enjoyed talking to you today.”

“Me too.” You look at him, the damp strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, the slight smile on his face. You notice that his glasses are still wet, a couple of droplets left around the rim. Before you can stop yourself, you reach out and gently pull them off of his face, wiping them on a dry section of your shirt. You place them back onto his nose, and as you retreat, you let your fingers linger on the side of his jaw.

He whispers your name, his eyes fluttering closed. “I’m your professor.”

“Not for much longer,” you say. “Tell me to stop, then.”

He swallows. His eyes open, looking at you with dark eyes. You think he’s about to say something, the way his lips part just a fraction. But what comes instead is a heavy sigh.

“Fuck it.”

He leans in, pressing his lips against yours. The rain continues to beat down against the windshield as he kisses you, grasping both sides of your face in his hands. He swipes his tongue against your bottom lip, groaning when you open your mouth to let him in. Your fingers find their way into his hair, tangling them in the strands at the back of his head.

You pull away, panting slightly. “Do you… do you wanna come up?”

He groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “I shouldn’t,” he murmurs.

“But do you want to?”

His gaze is already broken, shattered. Desperate. “I think you know the answer already.”

He walks alongside you politely, a respectable distance in between you two all the way to your apartment, but as soon the door clicks shut behind you, he’s on you, pressing you gently against the wood. His hands roam as he kisses you, from your back to your waist, down to the curve of your ass. Your hands are fisted in his shirt, and all of a sudden the boldness from the car melts away, replaced only with nerves.

Professor Byun notices. “You okay?” he asks, eyes searching yours for any signs of discomfort.

You nod shakily. “I’m just — I’ve never gone further than this.”

His eyes widen. “Never? Do you want to stop?”

“No,” you say firmly. “Please. I want this.”

He swallows hard, cupping your face. “Okay. But you need to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

You lead him to your room, the one thing you’re sure of how to do in this situation. Your bedroom, with your polaroids of friends on the walls and your study materials scattered about your desk, seems so juvenile in your professor’s presence. Any embarrassment you might have felt from that revelation melt away when he presses you against the sheets, slotting himself in between your legs. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking a mark onto your collarbone. He unbuttons your shirt, his lips traveling down to kiss each new inch of exposed skin. 

You shiver underneath him, torn between wanting to watch him as he touches you or to close your eyes, shielding yourself from the overwhelming situation. The lower he goes, the more your self-consciousness grows, but you can’t bring yourself to cover your body. You settle for grasping the sheets under you instead.

“P-Professor Byun…” you sigh.

“Baekhyun,” he corrects you, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He sucks another bruise next to your belly button, pulling your skirt and your underwear down your legs. “Call me Baekhyun, please.”

“Baekhyun.” It comes out as a whimper, and Baekhyun groans against your skin. He parts your legs, hooking his arms under your thighs. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispers. “Sometimes you distract me in class, you know?” He drags a fingertip up your glistening folds, eliciting a gasp from you. “Especially when you wear those skirts. Drives me crazy.”

“Please do something,” you plead. 

He smirks, lowering his face closer to your skin. “You want my mouth?” he asks, teasing.

“Mhmm, ah—” Your hips buck up when he licks up the length of your pussy. The sensation is both everything and nothing like you’d imagined. The heat of his mouth, the controlled pressure of his tongue, the hardening grip of his fingers on your thighs holding you in place. He starts slowly, lapping at your folds gently, getting you used to the feeling. You feel the tension, the nerves melting away, and he grows bolder in response. His lips close around your clit, sucking at the bundle of nerves. You’re totally unprepared for it, the sparks of pleasure that travel up your spine. Your hand flies to your mouth, pressing the back of your hand against your lips to muffle the sound that threatens to come out.

“Don’t do that,” Baekhyun pouts. The expression makes him seem boyish, juxtaposed against the sinful sight of him in between your legs. “I wanna hear every sound you make, baby.”

Your hand travels down to his hair instead, practically pushing him back down against your pussy. He continues his actions, alternating between flicking his tongue against your clit and sucking on it, coaxing every last whimper out from your lips. You feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, shallow at first and then plunging inside. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, arching your back. His fingers are longer than yours, reaching spots inside of you that you’ve never been able to reach. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please.” 

“God, you’re so tight,” he breathes. “You’re clenching around my fingers.” He eats you out like he’s starving, the obscene sucking noises joining the sounds of your whimpers growing louder and louder. The pressure in your body is building, a hot, overwhelming feeling deep in your gut. He senses it too, plunging his fingers into you faster and faster when your moans turn into high-pitched gasps.

“Getting close,” you choke out, your thighs trembling around his head. 

“Let go for me,” he says, staring at you with dark, lust-blown eyes. “I want it all.”

You snap, your orgasm crashing into you. You cry out his name, your entire body shaking under the weight of your release. He holds onto you fast, his fingertips digging into the plush skin of your thighs, lips still sucking at your clit. It sends little jolts through you even as you come down, the sharp aftershocks of pleasure making you tremble.

Baekhyun’s lips meet yours as he undoes the buttons of his own shirt. Your hands scramble downwards to undo his belt, frantically pulling down his trousers and underwear. His cock, heavy and leaking, bobs in between his legs.

“Hold on, I have a —” He fumbles in his wallet for a condom, rolling it onto his length. In the process, he shucks off his remaining clothing and you do the same, undoing your bra and laying before him fully bare. Your gaze roams the wide, toned expanse of his chest, the broadness of his shoulders. He notices you staring and smiles, somewhat self-consciously.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, positioning himself on top of you.

“How gorgeous you are,” you reply instantly, without thinking. 

He kisses you once more, nipping at your bottom lip. “I was thinking the same about you.” 

He hoists your thighs so that they’re wrapped around his waist, reaching in between the two of you to position his cock at your entrance. The tip of it brushes against your quivering cunt, sending a shiver up your spine. “I’m gonna go slow,” he whispers. “But tell me if it hurts too much.” 

He sinks inside you slowly, filling you inch by inch. It’s not painful, but it’s unfamiliar, and you kiss him to distract yourself from the foreign feeling. He thrusts shallowly, slowly, giving you the time to get used to the feeling. Baekhyun’s jaw is clenched, his eyes screwed shut with concentration, his breathing shallow and quick. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans through gritted teeth. “Oh my God, you’re perfect.”

“Faster,” you whisper. “I can take it.”

He drives his hips into you with more strength, more speed, unraveling you with each passing minute. The discomfort falls away, leaving behind devastating pleasure. You grip his shoulders, your moans falling from your lips uninhibited. 

“Look at me,” he grunts. Your eyes open and he exhales sharply. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses you again and again, whispering praises against your skin as he fucks you. The pressure is building once more, pooling low in your abdomen. 

He shifts you, pressing you down so that your knees are practically tucked into your chest, driving into you right at that spot that makes you see stars. You gasp, your nails digging into his skin. 

“Baek — Baekhyun, fuck, I’m coming!”

He moans brokenly, gripping your hips harder. “Me too, fuck, come for me, baby please.”

You shatter, time standing still as you come again. Your walls spasm around Baekhyun’s cock, and he loses it, pounding into you once, twice, before stilling, a raspy groan spilling from his mouth. “Shit,” he pants, pressing a kiss to your damp forehead. “You’re unreal.”

Delirious and head still spinning from the pleasure, all you can do is giggle. “I just lost my virginity to the hottest professor on campus and you’re telling me that I’m unreal.”

A cocky, lopsided smirk graces his features. “Hottest on campus?” he says. “Even compared to that one history professor?” 

You hum. “Hm, I guess he’s kinda cute too. But you’re better.”

He kisses you sweetly. “You should get some rest.” He goes to move off the bed but you grab onto his wrist.

“Please stay,” you say. “At least until I fall asleep?”

A torn expression crosses Baekhyun’s face. “Alright,” he says finally, laying down next to you. You fall asleep just like that, pressed against the warmth of his chest, one of his arms laying protectively around you.

Epilogue.

Your roommates have gone out to celebrate with their families and you have just bid your own goodbye to their hotel. Your cap and gown are strewn haphazardly on the floor of your bedroom, the congratulatory cards sit on top of your desk. The thrill of crossing the stage still thrums through your veins. You did it. A college graduate.

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. You swing it open to see Baekhyun standing there with a bouquet of roses. “I heard someone here just got a Bachelor’s degree,” he smiles.

You throw your arms around him, kissing his face all over. He stumbles backwards, laughing at your sudden display of affection. “You missed me this much?” he asks.

“Longest two weeks of my life,” you groan. After you had slept together, you and Baekhyun had agreed to keep your interactions to a minimum until after your graduation. Sitting in his class, pretending to be just another student was torture, but now it was all over.

“Do you want me to come in?” he asks, eyes glinting with glee. 

“You have a PhD and you can’t tell when a girl wants her boyfriend to come inside?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow in challenge. 

He beams at the new title. “Well, you know,” he says, dipping down to kiss you once again. He steps forward, pushing you backward into your apartment. “I’m still learning new things. I don’t just teach.”

The door clicks shut behind him and you’re already unbuttoning his shirt, pressing your body against his. “I can think of a few things you can teach me,” you whisper. 

He captures your lips in a searing kiss before tugging you towards the bedroom, tumbling into what you hope is the start of a brand new life together.

The air tasted like copper and smoke. You could feel the psychic scream of the city before you even saw it, a billion terrified minds painting the inside of your skull in shades of panic and pain. You’d been on missions before, plenty of them. But this was different. This was an invasion, coordinated, precise, and viciously effective.

Your team had been ambushed, split up and scattered across the war zone before you could even properly form up. Tony’s voice, usually a bastion of snarky confidence, was clipped and urgent in your ear.

“Alright, listen up, ducks in a row. Positions are scrambled. Cap, you’re with Thor on the west flank, that energy surge is your problem. Romanoff, you’re holding the south corridor. It’s a bottleneck, they’ll have to come through you. Clint, you’re her eyes in the sky. Big Guy, you’re with me, we’re punching a hole through the center. Spidey and girlie, you two are on the north ridge. High ground, support fire only. Do not, I repeat, do not engage directly. You see one of these things get too close, you run. You call it in. You do not engage. Got it?”

You heard Peter’s affirming “Sure thing, Mr. Stark!” through the comms, his voice a little too high. You just hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes scanning the chaotic skyline. The north ridge felt a million miles away from the south corridor. From her.

You found a moment of relative quiet behind a collapsed wall. You could just make out Natasha’s form in the distance, a red-haired wraith moving with lethal grace, holding the line against a tide of mechanical nightmares. Your heart clenched. You’d been with the Avengers for a year and a half now. Peter had found his mentor in Tony, a father figure in the man with the arc reactor. And you… you had found your family in the woman with the red ledger. She was the one who taught you how to throw a punch, how to disappear into a shadow. She was the one who, after a nightmare, didn’t offer platitudes, but simply sat with you in the dark kitchen of the Compound, making you tea in silence until your hands stopped shaking. She was the one who, when you’d called her ‘Nat’ for the first time, had just looked at you with those unreadable eyes and given you the smallest, softest smile you’d ever seen. She was your person.

You’d touched her arm before you’d slipped away to your post. “Hey,” you’d whispered, forcing a confidence you didn’t fully feel. “I’ll look for you when the war is over. An hour and a half from now.” You’d even managed a cocky grin, a perfect imitation of Peter’s. She’d given you a small, tight smile in return, a micro-expression that said be careful, detka more clearly than words.

That was forty-five minutes ago. The plan was in shambles. The enemy wasn't just strong; they were adaptive, their numbers endless. For every one you dropped with a psychic blast from your palm, two more took its place. You could hear the strained grunts and sharp commands over the comms. Tony’s voice was losing its sardonic edge, replaced by a cold, calculating strain. You were being pushed back, the perimeter collapsing.

And then, in the middle of deflecting a mind-probe from a hulking, multi-eyed creature, it hit you. Not an enemy attack, but a realization. A memory.

Weeks ago, you’d been complaining to Bruce in the lab, frustrated with a plateau in your power. You’d said, “If I could just… push more out. It feels like my skin is a dam, and only my hands are the floodgates.”

You’d seen him share a look with Tony. A quick, furtive glance. Then Tony had clapped you on the shoulder. “Floodgates are good, kid. Controllable. We like controllable.”

And Natasha… you’d asked her once, after a nightmare where your power had lashed out uncontrollably. You’d asked her if you could ever be strong enough to protect everyone. She’d held your face in her hands, her thumbs stroking your cheeks, her touch a grounding force. “You are strong enough,” she’d said, her voice a low, fierce promise. “You are stronger than you know. But strength isn't just about power. It's about control. About knowing when not to use it.”

They knew. All of them. They knew the fundamental truth of your power and they’d kept it from you. The more skin you used as a conduit, the greater the release. Your hands were the smallest floodgates. Your whole body… your whole body could be a bomb.

The realization was a cold, clarifying shock. You looked at the swarm of enemies between you and the centre of their formation, where their command ship hovered, shielded and untouchable. You looked at the scattered, overwhelmed figures of your family. Steve was a beacon of stubborn hope, but he was being overrun. Thor’s lightning was magnificent, but the horde was endless. And Natasha… you saw her duck and weave, a dancer in a massacre, but she was being pushed further and further away from your position. She was alone.

The choice wasn't a choice. It was a single, crystalline note of purpose.

A bomb is what you needed.

You abandoned your post without a second thought. You stopped fighting defensively and started moving, a single-minded missile. You used your blasts not to kill, but to clear a path, to knock enemies aside, to create a corridor of chaos that you sprinted through. You were a pinball of psychic energy, bouncing through the enemy ranks, getting closer and closer to the glowing heart of their operation.

“Hey- kid! Report! You are off your mark!” Tony’s voice crackled in your ear, sharp with alarm.

You didn’t answer.

“Girl, what are you doing? Get back to your position!” Clint’s voice, usually calm, was laced with panic.

You kept running.

You burst through a line of Chitauri soldiers, your heart hammering against your ribs. And there she was. Natasha. She was back-to-back with a Sokovian fighter, her face a mask of grim determination. Her eyes found you immediately, and for a split second, relief flooded them. Then she saw your face, the set of your jaw, the single-minded trajectory you were on, heading not away from the danger, but into its absolute core. The relief vanished, replaced by a dawning, gut-wrenching horror.

“No,” she breathed, the word lost in the cacophony of battle, but you read it on her lips.

She exploded into motion, a blur of lethal grace, abandoning her position to intercept you. She fought like a woman possessed, her fists and feet a whirlwind, her guns spitting fire. She was following you, trying to get a grasp on you.

You kept running.

You were close now. Ten feet. Five. She dispatched the last enemy between you with a brutal neck snap and lunged, her fingers closing around your wrist. Her grip was like iron, unbreakable.

“Hey! stop. Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” she gasped, her eyes, those beautiful, haunted green eyes, searching yours. They were wide with a terror you’d never seen in them before. “We find another way. We always find another way. Tony will come up with something- he always does.”

You looked at her hand wrapped around your wrist, then back up at her face. You saw the little lines of worry around her eyes, the smudge of dirt on her cheek, the way a strand of her red hair had escaped its confines. You saw your mom.

And you smiled. A real smile, gentle and sad and full of a love so big it felt like it would crack your ribs.

“So long, Mom,” you said, your voice soft, meant only for her. “I’m off to drop the bomb. So don’t wait up for me.”

You felt her grip tighten, her fingers digging in. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed, her voice breaking. “Don’t you dare, milyy. That’s an order.”

You twisted your wrist, not with strength, but with a precise, focused pulse of psychic energy directly into her hand. It wasn't enough to hurt her, not even near, just enough to break her concentration, to make her nerves fire erratically for a millisecond. Her grip loosened, and you slipped free.

You didn't look back. You couldn't. You just ran, as a scream ripped through the comms, a sound you’d never heard before, a sound of pure, primal agony. It was Natasha.

“HEY! HEY, PLEASE!” Her voice was a raw, ragged thing, quickly swallowed by the snarls of the enemies that surged to fill the space between you, cutting her off.

You ran, dodging, weaving, your body screaming in protest. The comm crackled with frantic, overlapping voices. Tony, demanding to know what was happening. Steve, shouting orders. And then, your own voice, calm and clear, cut through the chaos.

“Go back to the first position. All of you. Now.”

“hey- what are you doing?!” Peter’s voice was a terrified squeak. “bu- wha-? please!”

“What the hell are you doing, kid? Fall back to your position!” Tony’s voice was pure command, laced with fear.

“I love you guys,” you said, and you meant it with every fibre of your being. Then you reached up, pulled the tiny comm from your ear, and crushed it under your foot.

The silence was deafening.

You pushed on. The enemy seemed to part before you, confused by this small, lone figure charging into their midst. Or maybe they sensed it. The power building inside you. It wasn't a hum anymore, it was a roar. A pressure. It started in your core, a swirling vortex of pure psychic energy, and then it expanded. It flowed into your arms, your legs, your torso. It seeped into your fingertips, your toes, the skin on your face. You could feel it in your scalp, behind your eyes, in the very marrow of your bones. Every inch of your skin tingled, then burned, then thrummed with a power so immense it was terrifying.

You reached the centre. The command ship loomed above you, a monstrous steel leviathan. You were completely surrounded. Thousands of eyes, all fixed on you. You closed your eyes.

You thought of Peter, his goofy laugh and his unwavering loyalty. You thought of Tony, his gruff affection and his genius mind that always made you feel safe. You thought of Steve, his steady heart. You thought of Nat. You thought of her holding you after a nightmare, of her teaching you how to do a perfect somersault, of her braiding your hair before a press conference, of her quiet, fierce “I’ve got you, detka.”

I love you, Mom.

You could feel them pulling back. You could feel the sudden shift in the battle’s pressure as the remaining Avengers, however reluctantly, obeyed. They had no choice. They knew what was coming. They’d always known it was a possibility. They just prayed they’d never have to see it.

You stopped fighting the energy. You stopped channeling it. You just… let it be. You let it fill you completely. You felt it thrum through every inch of your skin, a billion bees humming just beneath the surface. You felt it surge inside every vein, a river of white-hot light. You felt it in every cell, a universe of power waiting to be born.

Then, you opened your eyes, and you let it go.

It wasn't a blast. It was a sunrise. A silent, expanding sphere of pure, white psychic force. It rippled out from you, passing through metal and flesh and bone as if they were mist. There was no pain. There was only release. For one eternal, suspended moment, you were everywhere, you were everything. You were the light.

And then, there was nothing.

In the shelter of the extraction point, a mile from the blast zone, the Avengers watched. A wall of white light bloomed on the horizon, silent and beautiful and absolute. It swallowed the enemy command ship whole. It swept across the battlefield like an eraser, and when it faded, the alien army was simply… gone. A few stragglers on the periphery stumbled, disoriented, easy pickings.

The silence that followed was heavier than any sound of battle.

Tony stood frozen, his faceplate retracted, his eyes reflecting the afterimage of the light as Peter clung to his sleeve like the scared child he was at that moment. Steve sank to his knees, his shield hanging limp at his side. Clint had turned away, his shoulders shaking. Thor gripped Mjolnir, his head bowed.

Natasha was the only one who moved. She walked, stiff-legged, towards the comms console in the jet. Her hand trembled as she keyed the frequency. The one that was hardlined into every Avenger’s ear comm.

“this is Natasha Romanoff speaking.” Her voice was a whisper, a fragile, desperate thing. “kid, respond.”

Nothing but static.

She tried again, her voice cracking. “detka, come in. The mission is over. We need you to… we need you to come to the base. Now.”

Silence.

“Please, milyy, answer me.”

The static hissed, indifferent.

She sank into the pilot’s seat, her hand still gripping the mic. Tony was beside her then, his hand on her shoulder. She didn't react. Her eyes were fixed on the silent speaker, willing it to come alive, willing a cheeky, breathless voice to fill the silence with an apology and a joke.

The ground team returned hours later. The battlefield was a crater of fused glass and silence. They found nothing. No trace of the enemy command. No trace of anything. Just the eerie stillness of a place where a bomb had gone off.

They found your comm unit, or what was left of it, a few small, melted pieces of metal and plastic. Tony held them in his palm, his face unreadable. If the comm was destroyed… if it was in your ear when it happened…

No one said it.

Back at the compound, the silence was a living thing. It followed them from room to room. Peter sat on your bed, holding one of your sweatshirts, his face blotchy and tear-streaked, staring at nothing. Tony couldn't look at the lab, at the spot where you and Peter would bicker over who got to use the good soldering iron.

Natasha went to her room. Your room. The one she’d had decorated for you, with the deep reds and cozy blankets, the bookcase filled with your favourite spy novels and the photo of the two of you on your first “official” girls' day out. She sat on the edge of your bed, her back ramrod straight. She didn't cry. The Black Widow didn't cry.

But as the hours bled into days, she found herself in your room more and more often. She’d trace the spine of a book you’d been reading. She’d pick up a hair tie from your nightstand and twist it in her fingers. She’d lie down on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the feel of your wrist in her grip, the sound of your voice.

The team tried to move on. They tried to debrief, to process, to exist in a world that had been saved at a cost they were only beginning to understand. But a fundamental piece of them was missing. A bright, loud, loving piece.

Days turned into a week. The memorial was small, private. Tony spoke about your courage. Steve spoke about your heart. Peter couldn't speak at all. He just stood there, clutching the sleeve of your sweatshirt, that he was now wearing.

Natasha stood apart, a solitary figure in black. She didn't speak. She just looked at the simple plaque with your name on it, a star. A tiny, permanent mark on the wall of a compound that suddenly felt like a mausoleum.

Later that night, she was in your room again. She was sitting on the floor, her back against your bed, staring at the faint, fading smell of your shampoo on the pillow. The compound was quiet, the others lost in their own grief.

A soft chime broke the silence. It was the motion sensor on the perimeter, a gentle alert that wouldn't wake the whole compound. She glanced at the holographic display that flickered to life near the door. Just a glitch, probably. A deer.

But then the sensor chimed again. And again. A pattern. Not random. Three short, two long, three short.

S.O.S.

Luke's voice echoed down the cement tunnel, scolding Thalia.

"Thalia, you can't be serious. You know we have to look out for ourselves. Didn't you hear her? She's only fought one real monster, if she can't protect herself then that puts us all in danger." His voice was cruel and pleading. He liked the way things were, just him and Thalia against the world. The thought of another person tagging along, completely defenseless? It spelled nothing but trouble.

"That's exactly why we have to bring her with us, she'll die out here! She says her father is Apollo, right? You know we need someone who can help with that." Your ears perked up, and you tentatively stood at the entrance of the tunnel.

"Don't bring that up right now, I'm gonna be—"

"Are you hurt?" Your voice now echoed down the tunnel as you fully revealed yourself. They had no idea how much you had heard, but they correctly assumed it was the entire conversation. The two demigods exchanged a look, Luke's eyes pleading to Thalia that she wouldn't tell you anything. Of course, that wasn't who Thalia was.

"Luke, show her, now." As always, Luke obeyed her. He lifted his shirt, showing a bloodied gauze wrap around his stomach. You made your way down the tunnel until you stood right in front of him. Slowly, you reached towards it as you looked up at Luke, your eyes asking permission. He nodded tightly, refusing to fully meet your gaze.

Tingles went through your body as you made contact with his bare skin. Luke felt the heat radiating off of you, a trait he assumed had to do with your parentage. You lifted the wrap to reveal a deep gash on his side, and you gasped as you saw it.

"How long have you had this?" You abandoned his side, instead dropping to your knees to sift through your back pack.

"Not that long..." When Luke refused to give a real answer, Thalia instead spoke on his behalf.

"A week, we've been cleaning it with alcohol, but that was the last bit of our wrap." Like an answer to their prayers, you produced a roll of gauze and a hooked sewing needle.

"I raided the nurse's office before I left school... and the craft room. Can you give me your disinfectant?" Thalia and Luke shared a look, a slightly embarrassed one, that left you confused. Your internal questions were answered when Thalia fished a bottle of Everclear from her backpack. You grimaced.

"That'll do." Right away, you got to work on Luke. He laid on the ground with a bag under his head like a pillow. He tried to suppress the pain, but when you poured on the liquor, a grunt akin to a scream made its way out of his lips. Thalia was beside him immediately, grabbing his hand. His eyes floated up towards her, the pain softening from his face as their eyes met. In that moment, it was clear to you what your place was in this trio. Despite that, you had proven yourself to Luke as a worthy companion, and from that day on he never doubted you again. Sure, you weren't the best at combat, but you were always there to save the day when the fight was over.

Thalia and Luke weren't really together, but he looked at Thalia the same way you looked at him. If Thalia was the sun and Luke was the Earth, you were the moon. It killed you sometimes, watching them together. She was completely oblivious to his longing stares, his constant protection, even the reasons behind he originally didn't want you to come along with them. In turn, he was oblivious to the way you constantly compared yourself to Thalia. It was impossible not to. Not only did she have the fully undivided attention of the boy you loved, but she was the most amazing person you had ever met. She was brave in a way you could never be, fearless in the face of adversity even when her life was on the line. You were just there.

Again, everything changed when your group grew from three to four. There had been no question about taking Annabeth in, but there had certainly been a conversation about what that meant for your group. It became clear quickly that you couldn't travel with this precious little girl, and that's when Camp Half-Blood was proposed.

Luke hated the idea. He had no interest in returning to what he described only as a "death cult." You and Thalia on the other hand were open to it. Your supplies were running low and it wasn't like medical supplies magically appeared out of thin air. Sure, Luke could steal them, but there was never enough for the amount of injuries you all sustained. You were exhausted from constantly stitching them up, patching up wounds you had no business mending on the streets. If there was a place you could go that ensured you and your friends didn't have to sleep under a bridge every night, you were more than happy to at least check it out.

Then, the worst possible scenario that could've happened, happened. Thalia stayed behind as you, Annabeth, and Luke ran into camp. Claps of thunder and streaks of light flashed behind you, but you pressed ahead, your hands firmly clamped over Annabeth's ears as she cried. You were almost to the barrier when Luke turned around, his heart stopping as he did. Instead of the beautiful girl he loved, there stood a pine tree that hadn't been there just moments before. The monsters were gone, there was no more thunder. Only rain.

You covered Annabeth's eyes as well now, turning to Luke for anything. Any proof that what you both were seeing was real. After that day, he was never the same. He was alive, but his heart had stopped.

The years flew by, but he never fully softened. Sure, he still had you and Annabeth, but nothing could ever take her place. After her transformation, your relationship had drastically changed. Now that there was no monsters to defend you from, he finally could let his guard down. Sometimes he thought about his hesitation to add you to their team of misfits, and he couldn't believe there was ever a time you weren't around. You should've been happy, you finally were seeing the real Luke, the one he hid behind snark and skepticism, but you knew there was something missing from him that you were never going to see— peace.

You and Luke were out in the woods, the way you spent many a Summer day. The sun was streaming beautifully through the leaves as you laid in the grass, its rays warming you and bathing you in gold. Luke sat beside you, watching you lay there. In moments like this, he found himself somewhat grateful to be at camp. Not to the gods, of course, but to Thalia. Even now, she was protecting you both. He silently watched your chest rise and fall, somewhere half between sleep and serenity, before you turned your face to him. He didn't care that he had been caught staring, but your face warmed as if you were the one caught.

"What are you thinking about?" You loved when Luke asked questions like that. You were all too familiar with the thoughts that plagued him constantly— Thalia, anger, confusion. Sometimes, when he needed it the most, he would ask you to tell him whatever you were thinking about so he could escape from his own mind for a moment. As always, you happily obliged.

"I was thinking about lunch, honestly," you admitted. It was such a trivial thing to be thinking about, but Luke liked that. It wasn't like you never thought about Thalia or your life before camp. Truly, you thought about it every day, and Luke knew that. The difference was that you didn't let it run your life. Luke pressed his forehead to his knees, his arms supporting this weight behind him as he laughed. You loved seeing him like that, vulnerably enjoying himself. While he wasn't looking, you snuck a look at his arms, the way his strong muscles held him up and were tanned by the sun. His hair, dark and curly, still found a way to glow in the light. He was beautiful, and you admired him any chance you could. Even after all of these years, your feelings for him never went away, if anything they grew.

As Luke was about to look back up at you, a horn blew in the distance.

"Wish granted," he joked, pulling himself up before reaching a hand down to you. You took it, enjoying the brief contact. Emerging from the forest, you blended into the crowds of campers all heading towards the pavilion to eat. When you both got there, you went your separate ways to your tables. You waited patiently for the first table to be dismissed, but that never came. Instead, Chiron made his way to the platform on the fringe of the pavilion, all eyes landing on him. He surveyed the room, his authoritative eyes glancing over the crowd of demigods. However, you could have sworn they lingered on you for just a moment too long. Then, he spoke.

"Campers, I come to you today with some news. One of you has been selected to go on a quest to recover Apollo's Golden Bow." Excitement immediately broke out, whispers floating throughout the crowd. You looked over to see Luke, his eyes suddenly dark. Chiron waited a moment before silencing the buzzing pavilion.

"Its whereabouts have eluded us for some time now, but after investigating reports of famine and disease, we are confident of its location. The camper selected for this quest is herself a daughter of Apollo, Y/F/N." Your eyes widened, your pulse quickened, but the world seemed to move in slow motion around you. Next to you, your siblings cheered, reaching out for high-fives. In a trance, you tried to celebrate with them, but you couldn't believe what you had just heard. You? You weren't even the counsellor of your cabin, but your father had chosen you of all of his children to do this for him. You couldn't ignore the voice in your head. You almost let me die on the streets, and now you are sending me to clean up your mess?

You were instructed to finish your meal before going to the Big House to receive the details of the quest, but your appetite was gone now. From across the pavilion, Luke was still eyeing you. When you met his gaze, he nodded towards the entrance, signaling you to meet him outside.

When you finally made it outside amidst the congratulations and obvious attempts at begging to be chosen as your quest companion, you saw him waiting for you. Anger was radiating from his entire body, followed closely behind by worry.

"Gods, there you are. I can't believe they are sending you out there, you know how many monsters are gonna be after you? How many want that bow?" You let him rant, feeling somewhat comforted by the concern he was showing. Underneath his typically calm and friendly demeanor, you knew this was the real Luke, the Luke who worried, raged, and who had everything he loved taken from him from eventually. Before he got too lost, you knew you had to reel him back in.

"Luke, please, you know why they chose me. If there are people who are sick, I have to help them. That's why I'm here after all, isn't it?" Luke knew that when you said "here," you didn't mean Camp Half-Blood. You meant this world, you meant the reason that you were alive in the first place. You had to save those people, the same way you had saved Luke and Thalia countless times. At that, he changed his tune.

"I'm coming with you then, I don't care what Chiron has to say about it." Your hands pressed on his shoulders, trying everything to calm him down.

"You know why you can't come with me." It was a half confession, breadcrumbs leading to the truth you held inside of you. Still, he wasn't convinced. Before he could respond, you spoke again.

"I need to do this without you, I've gotta help those people. If something were to happen to you—"

"Then I'll make sure nothing happens to me!" he cut you off. You were just as quick to do the same.

"You don't get a say in the matter, Luke." You turned away from him, hiding the stinging in your eyes. He didn't understand, he never would. You would rather die alone on this quest than risk putting him in danger. He said your name, quietly pleading that you would reconsider. There was no chance of that. Not wanting to hear any more of his attempts to convince you, you walked away. Luke could have sworn the world grew colder as you left him standing there, taking your warmth with you.

Chiron's instructions were simple. You were to take a bus to New Jersey with two other campers. There was a small town 50 miles west of Atlantic City, and it would take you about 7 hours to get there. Generously, Chiron provided you with $300, 25 drachma pieces, and suggestions on who to select as your companions. There was a couple of hours before your selection ceremony, then you would depart that night. You gratefully accepted and made your way out the door. As you reached for the handle, Chiron's voice stopped you.

"Might I make one more suggestion, child. Do not bring Castellan with you, under any circumstances." You didn't even bother to look back at him

"Wasn't planning on it."

You avoided his stare at the selection ceremony, his betrayed stare burning holes in you. When you chose your companions, you could've sworn you hear him talking to himself. Whatever he said, you were sure to get an earful of it when everyone else disbursed.

He made a beeline straight to you after you said your goodbyes to your companions and thanked everyone else for coming. They offered you well wishes, something Luke couldn't bring himself to do yet.

"What is wrong with you?" As soon as he said it, you couldn't help but roll your eyes. You had already made your mind up, who was he to try and change it? Well, you thought, if anyone were to convince me, it'd be him.

"There's nothing wrong with me," you bit back, "you aren't coming. It's already decided. Now please, don't make this the way we spend the rest of today. I'm leaving at nightfall." Your bus would be departing at 9:30, giving you the night to sleep through the bus ride. Of course, you would have to take shifts, but it was better than having to sit through an entire seven hour trip. At the mention of leaving tonight, Luke's exterior crumbled even more.

"Seriously? That's all you have to say?"

"Yeah, seriously, it is. Luke, don't you see I'm trying to protect you?"

"Well what about you? Who is going to protect you?" Silence fell over you both. Of course you knew Luke was worried about you, but there was more to it. You decided to poke the bear. Maybe it was selfish, but you needed to hear it now in case you never saw him again.

"Luke, what are you so afraid of? I know quests are dangerous, but I've got great companions who are looking out for me." Luke stared at you in disbelief. Were you that clueless?

"We were 'great companions' to Thalia, and look at her now." His tongue was sharp and full of blame. It was blame he placed squarely on his shoulders, but you couldn't help but feel like you were being accused of something.

"Exactly Luke, I couldn't help her then. No matter how much I sit up at night and wish I wouldn't have listened to her when she told us to run into camp, I can't go back. This is the only way I can protect you now, today." Guilt melted away Luke's emotional armor as he realized the implications of what he had just said.

"No, Y/N, you know that's not what I meant..." He tried to remedy the situation, but it was too late.

"It wasn't what you meant, but it's true. I know you'd give anything to have her back, but she isn't coming back. We're all we've got. I know you loved her, but you've got to realize that she made a choice, a choice to save us. If you keep blaming yourself forever, you'll never understand just how much her sacrifice meant. You'll never understand my choice, either." Luke was stunned, but he still gave one last attempt at persuading you.

"I love you too, you know that." His words didn't change anything, and a sad smile spread on your lips.

"Luke, you know it's not the same." Your words struck him into silence once again as he pondered what you meant. He had loved Thalia, he had wanted a life with her, but now she was gone. Sometimes, he felt like the tighter he held onto her memory, the tighter he held onto his love, the longer it would keep her alive. He hadn't realized that maybe, he had been holding on too tight.

That was the last time you saw Luke for a week. For a week, Luke stayed near the edge of the forest, waiting for you to return.

On the first night, he didn't sleep. You had barely made it onto the bus and he had already convinced himself you were in danger. Of course, you were. Half way through the ride, a monster had attacked and derailed your mission. You were abandoned at a rest stop, and it took almost all your drachma to pay the Gray Sisters to give you a ride to New York City so you could buy new bus tickets.

Day two, and Luke was a wreck. Bound by duty, he was training a group of young campers with their small swords, swords he felt they had no business wielding. His mind was elsewhere though, wondering if you had made it to the town safely, wondering what you had meant yesterday. Most of all, wondering why you had seemed so sad when he told you he loved you.

By the third night, he was a nervous wreck.

"It shouldn't take this long to find a golden bow. I mean, it's gold, shouldn't it be obvious?" He grumbled into dinner, forcing Chris to be the outlet of his anxiety.

"Dude, she is gonna be okay. She isn't the same little kid you met back then, she can take care of herself." That pissed Luke off beyond reason. The worst part was that he knew there was some truth to his words. You weren’t the same little kid, and neither was he. It wasn’t obvious at the time, but everything about them had changed.

Day four and five, Luke stayed busy. He slept in the grass where you two spent almost every morning together, not caring if anyone saw him sneak out past curfew. All he wanted right now was to be next to you, to see you smile, to watch you drift off under the blazing sun. Sometimes, he swore he could smell your scent in the wind. Both nights, he melted into the tuft of grass you had occupied only days before, the day you left.

After that night, he received a strict warning from Chiron that if he continued to sneak around, there would be punishments in order. He didn't care until Chiron reminded him of how disappointed you would be. That was enough to get him in line. All he cared about was what you had to say, what you were going to say when you saw him again. Without realizing it, for the first time he went a whole day without thinking about Thalia, without constantly replaying his memories of her to keep her alive inside of his mind. That day, he felt only for you what he had felt for her so many years ago.

A week had passed now. That morning, Luke woke up and checked the border of the camp like he had every morning since you had left. Just like every morning, he was relieved to not find you dead or your companions returning without you. While there was no evidence, he felt strongly within him that today would be the day you returned.

Luke only went to the dining pavilion once he was sure he had searched everywhere. He had slept through breakfast skipped his morning duties, something he was sure he would get scolded for later. Another habit he had picked up this week was giving real, genuine burnt offerings. His prayers were simple. Bring her back to me. He didn't know what he fully meant, but all he knew was that he couldn't fight the feeling that he was never going to let go of you again.

He was half way through his meal when he heard campers abandoning their tables. There was only one thing that could have meant. Immediately he abandoned his meal, running through the crowds all heading towards the edge of the forest. When he got there, he saw you. At first, he couldn't believe his eyes. Your arm was wrapped in gauze and you were limping slightly, but you were alive. He made his way to the front of the crowd as he shouted your name. Your eyes locked onto his and your pain melted again instantly. You hobbled towards him, dropping the Golden Bow that Luke hadn't even noticed on the ground behind you.

Luke crashed into you, holding your body tight against his. His words were indistinguishable, mutters of "I'm so sorry" and "I thought I lost you" streaming together. You tried to pull back to look at his face, but he refused to loosen his grip.

Chiron's voice interrupted the display of affection, congratulating you on completing your quest and acknowledging your bravery before dismissing the campers back to lunch. The crowd thinned out, but you stayed right there.

Finally, you were able to pull back. Luke's hands came to your face, scanning it for any sign of injury. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Luke, I'm alright. I'm right here." Your words calmed him none, his eyes insisting on confirming your safety themselves.

"What happened to your arm? Or your leg?" Worry was thick in his tone.

"I got slashed pretty bad, but I'm alright now. I've got to go to the infirmary to get some ambrosia, but it will be fine. The leg's from getting thrown around a bit. Nothing too bad there either though." Your reassurances fell on unwilling ears, but his heart instantly stilled as you reached up to touch his face. He didn't notice it, but he was crying.

"Hey, Luke, I'm here now..." He shook his head into your hand, trying hard to blink away the hot tears.

"I didn't think you were coming back, and we ended things so badly, I didn't know what to do with myself," he confessed. There was no point in hiding it now, he knew what he was feeling.

"I would never leave you like that. If anything, that made me fight even more. I knew we had to make things right." A sad smile made its way onto your face, a smile Luke only wished to kiss away. So, that's exactly what he did.

You froze at first, unable to believe that this was really happening. The kiss you had waited years for was now reality. He pulled away, looking deep into your eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner, I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. All this time, I've been using Thalia as an excuse. I didn't want to face how I felt, I was so scared of losing you." You hushed him, rubbing your thumb along his cheek.

"Don't apologize Luke... things have to happen in their own time. I'm just glad you see it now." Luke's lips curled into a smile, a soft laugh slipping through.

"How do you always know what to say?" You matched his smile now as your eyes rolled playfully. Instead of replying, your lips pressed to his, pulling him in deeply.