iye

Going bowling was common within your group of friends. You usually went at least two times a month, and to be honest you were a pretty average player (that’s what you told yourself), only striking once in a while (mostly if some miracle happened), but the most important thing was that you would have fun together.

That was the plan for tonight too. Going bowling and having fun. The only difference was that all of you were wearing a costume for the sake of Halloween, and your friends have signed all of you up for a competition in your local bowling alley.

Your palms were sweaty as you made your way down the streets. Although Seohee, your best friend, complimented your choice of costume, you felt very conscious of your body in the tight, black suit. You dressed up as Black Widow. No, not as Natasha Romanoff, more like Yelena Belova. Actually you loved her character, you even bought a blonde wig and an almost perfect copy of her costume from one of the comics. Luckily for you a big, glasses-like equipment was part of the outfit, so the upper half of your face was covered and no one could see how big your eyes grew from being so nervous.

Your friends joked around about winning the Halloween competition, and despite the tempting promise of free food, none of you really expected yourselves to win. You really weren’t that good. But maybe Lady Fortune will side with you just this one time.

Walking down the usual way to the alley, people looked at your group curiously. There wasn’t that many people dressed up, so you stood out from the crowd.

Men tended to check out your and Seohee’s body. You were stuffed in a tight costume, which hid every part of your skin, but exposed your lines and curves just as much. Not like you had anything to hide. But once again, you felt thankful for the costume for hiding your eyes too.

Seohee was the opposite of you. She was a fairy, her dress tiny, showing a lot of skin, which she covered in glitter. Fake wings bounced on her back with every step she took. She looked gorgeous, and on top of that she was an amazing bowling player.

“Ah, Y/N, I can’t believe you! You said you will dress up as a comic book character, and here you are, making men turn their heads after you!” Seohee pouted at you, acting as if you just killed her cat right in front of her. “At least leave some for me too, I might need someone to walk me home and comfort me tonight if we lose.”

“Then you should start looking now!” Songwoo chimed in your conversation, cheekily looking at the girl and you. “Y/N can barely score on her good days.”

“Hey! I beat you last time.”

“Yeah, because I was playing with my weaker hand.”

“And who asked you to do that?” You tried to defend yourself, but everything was a vain attempt. You were the worst player among your friends, and they loved to tease you about it. Well, this is what friends are for, aren’t they?

“You.”

Before you could say anything, Seohee grabbed your wrist and made you stop in your track. Songwoo stayed behind with you too, curious about the girl’s sudden exclamation.

“I understand everything now!”

“That’s a pretty big statement for you, Seohee.” You hid your smile in your hands as you heard the boy’s words.

“No, I mean, Y/N’s costume,” she held a big pause before continuing, making herself sound more dramatic. “It’s supposed to distract us from the fact that she sucks at bowling.”

“Hey, not you too!”

You shooed her away from you, but she just grabbed you by the shoulders and hugged you close to herself. Defeated, you shot dirty looks to Songwoo instead. He was eyeing you up and down; you could almost see the wheels turning in his head. You already felt tired from his idea, and you haven’t even heard it yet.

“Maybe… maybe you could walk up to the other teams when they try to bowl and distract them. You can’t score many points, but they wouldn’t either. It’s a win for everyone.”

“Except for me, of course.”

“Collateral damage.” He waved at you hastily, as you finally started to catch up with the others again. “Happens in every war.”

You really wanted to say something nasty and not so lady like to him (in all honesty, you wanted to swear at him like a sailor), but were stopped by someone shouting loudly close to you.

At the edge of the pavement someone wearing a Deadpool-costume was sitting peacefully and leaning their back against the wall behind them. You couldn’t see their face because of the famous mask, but it seemed as if they were looking at you. Then the words coming from them confirmed that too:

“Hello, Widow! Long time no see!” It was definitely a man. His words sounded lazy, you sensed that he was smiling behind the mask.

Your ears heated up, but they were hidden under the blonde wig. Seohee nudged your side with her elbow and whispered:

“Do you know him?”

“Doesn’t sound like anyone I know,” you shrugged, then replied to the man, giving into his game: “Wade Wilson! Not expected to see you around here.”

“What can I say? Heard you would be here, and I couldn’t refuse to come. I still remember the time when you sewed my head back on my neck, or was it just a special fantasy of mine?”

Suddenly Songwoo stepped between you two, holding his hands out in the direction of both of you as if he was trying to stop a fight from breaking out. His head snapped from you to the mysterious guy, then back to you, and again, back to him.

“Hold up! Do you know each other?”

“No,” you said at the same time he said ‘yes’. Turning to him bewildered, you doubted yourself for a second. “Wait, do I know you?”

“Of course, you’re my sweet Black Widow! Do you not remember me, Yelena? God, you’re hurting my feelings.”

You smiled and laughed at him. He was really good at playing Deadpool’s reckless character. You felt a little happier about dressing up as Black Widow. This man saw you as your costume, not for the body-line it gave you. It felt much better than receiving all those looks every other man gave you on your way here.

“We should go.” Seohee’s face scrunched up in a frown, her hands constantly motioning toward the bowling alley. “I have a feeling the others will make us pay for the food if we’ll be late. And I’m not gonna pay for everything because of the Deadguy.”

“Deadpool,” and once again, you spoke at the same time as the man sitting on the pavement.

“Okay, that’s just keeps getting weirder. Especially if you don’t know each other in real life.”

You sighed, slightly waving at the stranger, who saluted at you and even had the audacity of blowing you a kiss through his mask. Only the smooching sounds and his hand gesture gave away what he was trying to do. You caught it with your hands, thinking how you will probably never see him ever again in life after tonigh. So why not have some fun, and play into his acts?

A hearty laugh came from him as you waved goodbye.

The bowling alley looked nothing like it used to on a normal Friday night. Lights were low, neon figures and signs hang from everywhere just like various zombie, bats, spiders and ghosts. There was real-looking cobwebs on the scoreboards, the workers dressed in orange uniform, which made them very similar to a pumpkin. Cute pumpkins actually. One of them smiled at your group, Seohee more than happily returning the gesture. You couldn’t remember the worker’s name, and you were too far to read his name tag, but from his face you knew that usually he was helping your group out with the food and shoes if one of you left them at home.

Sometimes even you couldn’t believe why on the earth did you invest in bowling shoes, when your skills weren’t so great, but you did anyway, and today you thanked your past-self for it, because they seemed to be out of shoes. There was a lot of people tonight, despite it being Halloween. All of the groups dressed up as various characters and figures, you even saw a big someone wearing a ridiculously big SpongeBob costume (from their height he seemed to be a man, but you weren’t so sure). It didn’t look like cardboard, it seemed realistic from what you could tell. You also saw some other Black Widows, but they all wore the read-haired wig from the movies. You being the only Yelena so far.

“Thank God, they made everyone sign up beforehand for the contest, I don’t think we could even come in if it weren’t for it.” Songwoo dropped down on the seat next to you, starting to change his shoes too.

“Do you think we have a chance?” you asked absentmindedly. Scanning the area, your eyes seemed to be looking for something or someone, but didn’t know what exactly. You sighed, when failed to find it.

“With your skills? No. But even if you were the best player on our team, we still wouldn’t. I’d say we can maybe win one or two games, but from what I know about the other groups, they are way better than us.”

You nodded, tying a double knot on your shoelaces.

Low music hummed in the background, but the chatting of the people were too loud for you to realize what kind of song was playing. You only heard the low bass running through your veins, the drum’s vibration seeping in your legs from the ground.

You looked around once again, and a red and black suit caught your eyes, but then quickly disappeared in the crowd. Then Seohee came back with Minji, the mom of your group, both of them holding drink in their hands. Actually, Minji was holding two in her left.

A group had to consist five players – no more, no less –, which was lucky for your five-membered group. No one has to be left out, and you didn’t have to find one more person to play with for the promise of free food.

The fifth member was Yeonjun. The maknae in your group of friends, and your secret wild-card. He was short and skinny, the only one still going to college, and at first glance one would believe he can’t even lift a ball, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. Songwoo might disagree, but the youngest was definitely the best player among you. And his favorite thing to do was teasing you for sucking at bowling, which you let him do, because somehow he always made you forgive him right before you would really scold him. Maybe it was because he was too cute for his own good.

“Ah, noona, can you not play so bad this one time? Pretty please?” Think about the devil and he shall appear. Without real force you kicked your leg in the direction of Yeonjun, but he jumped away fast. “Is that a no?”

“That’s an ‘I’ll kick your ass if you don’t shut up’.”

“But, noona, you would never hurt me.” He sat down on your other side, and looked at you with big puppy eyes. When you said nothing he grabbed your hands, giving a light squeeze to your fingers. “Right?”

“Stop bothering Y/N, Junnie. There will be a point where even you can’t act cute enough for her not to kick your ass. And I might just help her by holding you down while she does it.”

You snickered at Songwoo’s words, who didn’t seem to care much about your bickering, his mind already focusing on the upcoming game. He stood up and started stretching a few steps from you. The maknae let go of your hand, but immediately hugged you tight, whining too close to your ears for your liking:

“That’s not true! Tell him, Y/N, that it is not true!” When you said nothing, he let go of you, disbelief making his eyes look rounder. “Are you siding with him now? Would you really kick my bottom?”

“When you are annoying me? Like right now? Without further questions.”

The place was hot from all those people being stuffed inside, so you took the half-mask off and put it away in you purse. Yeonjun scooted closer to you on the seats. This time you put a hand on his shoulders, mostly to held him back from hugging you again. Yes, he was a cutie pie friend, who usually used his cuteness to his advantage, but you really preferred your personal space to be kept to yourself. At least that’s what you told him all the time, but he just never seemed to listen, and was always hugging you.

Although, Yeonjun was like this with all of your friends. Hugging, holding hands, clinging to someone was the way he showed his love and appreciation, so you let him. In secret, you even enjoyed it, but never in seven hells would you admit that. You just bickered with him, made disgusted faces and grumbled when he hugged you, but nevertheless, you let him.

“Ladies, gentlemen and other entities, thank you for coming! Our tournament for finding the best bowlers in Seoul is starting right now. So I’d like to ask the first two teams to quickly warm up, enter their playing names and let’s start the first round! Team Scavengers and Team Bloody Suckers, you’re the first ones!” A familiar voice came from everywhere, booming from the loudspeakers; the owner of the bowling alley doing his best to speak like a ringmaster. “Now, everyone, because of the high interest, we have a long night ahead of us, but keep in mind that the winner team’s members will be enjoying free food every time they come for half a year.”

The area around the two middle lanes cleared out, people and players giving place for the called teams. The music got even quieter, merely hearing any sound from it now, but the crowd cooled down too. Everyone focused on the two teams as they walked up the front. Then you saw the same red and black suit from earlier, and Seohee shouted behind you:

“It’s freakin’ Deadpool!”

Her voice was loud, and you were pretty sure people even on streets could hear it. If they not, ‘Deadpool’ definitely did, as he turned around to look for the source of screaming. A lot of people looked at her as well.

You felt your face became red as you stared at Deadpool. You regretted taking the half-mask off, when you caught the guy turning his head in your direction, but not moving for a few seconds. Then his body relaxed and waved at you. Or maybe not you, but you couldn’t be sure, since his face was still hidden behind his mask.

“Hi, Tinkerbell! Hi, Yelena!” He shouted back in a ridiculous, high-pitched voice. His friend hit his shoulder, bending in half from laughing. You smiled at him, carefully waving back, feeling a little more comfortable, but the blush didn’t leave your face.

“Do you know him, noona?” Yeonjun whispered in your ear. Your eyes were still locked on the strange guy as he turned away hurriedly. His teammates all dressed up as the Avengers. Their opponent were vampires, giving off Dracula vibes.

The maknae nudged your side, bugging you for attention.

“I don’t. We just had a brief and weird conversation outside.”

“About what?”

“The guy is a comic book nerd too,” Seohee chimed in. She shooed Yeonjun away a little and sat on your lap. “I couldn’t decide whether he was flirting with Y/N, or just showing off his nerdy knowledge.”

“Probably both.” Songwoo finished his warm up, and dropped back next to you, his hands sneaking on the back of your chair. That’s when you finally realized that they were teasing you again, and had enough.

“Oh, God, when did this become a ‘Let’s be affectionate with Y/N!’ competition?”

You tried to push Seohee off of your lap, but she just laughed and stiffened herself, making your task harder, almost impossible. The two guys on your sides snickered, not helping you a bit.

“That’s enough, guys! Let her be! And don’t be naive, Y/N, you know how they always tease you after you let Yeonjun hug you for once.” At Minji’s words the two boys put on a serious expression, but their eyes still shined mischievously. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to the older girl, and she raised her glass, nodding along with it. You snorted when she winked at you with a smug look on her face; with her crossed legs and pose she almost looked like the Godfater’s reincarnation. It didn’t help that she dressed as a Men in Black agent. Probably she could lead the mafia smoothly, but would always complain about being afraid her people getting hurt. A fascinating scenario it would be.

“You are really shameless, noona! Winking at Y/N after telling us not to tease her,” Yeonjun muttered under his breath. The older girl either not heard it or decided not to hear it as she turned to the starting match. You also focused your attention on the two lanes, where the game went on.

You looked at the screen that showed the names of the players (or rather the names they chose to go by), and scrunched your nose. There was Thorroro, Golden Man, Hulkanator, Hawknose and Loey Wilson on the Scavengers team. They were all creative except maybe for the last one. You scanned over them, connecting the faces to the names. When you got to Deadpool, you groaned loudly. How can a guy with that witty talk, he showed you earlier, chose such name? What the hell is a Loey anyway?

But you had to give to him, he looked nice in that Deadpool suit. He looked tall with broad shoulders, cute butt, and long legs. You often forgot your eyes on him, gaze wandering up and down his body. He caught you watching a few times, head turning to your direction from time to time, waving to you when you didn’t look away fast enough.

As the game went on, you had to admit to yourself, that he was a great player. He bowled a strike twice, and always collected his spares nicely. You were nowhere near his league, so you hoped that if in some miraculous way you’d win your first game, you won’t have to compete against them.

But Lady Fortune didn’t listen to you. The Scavengers won. Your team – the Sassy Weirdos – won too, not thanks to you, of course. You could barely score, and your ball for spares ended up in the gutter. But you still won, and had to compete against Scavengers. Just like in a cliché teen movie.

“We can say goodbye for free food now.”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want next time we come, okay?”

“Or you could just play better for the promise of free food.”

You smiled at Yeonjun’s pouty expression, and pinched his cheeks. He whined in pain, holding his face in his hands, and he sounded so fake.

“And you still wonder why are we treating you like a child.” Songwoo patted his shoulder with sympathy, but he was grinning widely at the maknae.

“No! You simply treat me wrong!”

“Hey! I bought you candy yesterday and always take you out to eat when you whine so much about school work!” Seohee joined to your conversation too.

“Then you should do it without me having to whine for it.”

“Come on, baby Junnie, don’t act like that in front of the grown-ups,” Songwoo teased him more.

“Noonaaa! They are hurting me!”

The maknae ran to your back, only the top of his head and an accusing finger sticking out behind your shoulders, which was pointed at your friends. At this point even the other team was laughing at his antics. Your eyes went to the mysterious Loey-guy, who still didn’t take off his Deadpool mask, but you definitely could hear his laugh. The sound warmed up your insides, made your head dizzy.

“Noona, you should protect me,” Yeonjun poked your side with his other hand, his voice more sulky than ever.

“Am I really the right person for that?” You fired back at him. “Hm, baby Junnie?”

“Oh my God!” He finally said in his real voice. His forehead met with your shoulder as he gave up on winning any of you to his side. “I hate you all right now.”

“No, you don’t. You are just sour, ‘cause you didn’t get what you wanted.”

“See? I told you he’s a child.”

This time the maknae didn’t rebel against Songwoo’s words, just muttered some profanities under his nose that only you could hear. You decided not to comment on them; it would risk another whiny tantrum from him.

“Seohee, you’re first up,” Minji said, as all of you settled in the seats designed to your lanes.

She picked a pink ball, and with a perfect posture she bowled a strike. Stunned silence filled the air, and you already knew what she was gonna do. Turning around, she walked back to your seats with dangerously swaying hips. Her last bullet was blowing a kiss to the opposing team’s next player, a man dressed as Thor.

Murmurs went around in the crowd, everyone wondering how could the Scavengers beat you, what their plan would be, but you knew that they didn’t need one. Obviously your team had you, the clumsy one, who lost the points the others just gained to your advance. Seohee’s perfect strike will mean nothing in a few minutes. You all knew that, and couldn’t understand how did the crowd forgot your bad performance from the previous game.

The other weakling on your team was Minji. She either bowled a strike with her ball or it ended up in the gutter, there was no in between. Unfortunately the gutter was the more frequent option. And even with her crazy luck or curse, the others barely ever teased her about it. Maybe because she would really kick their asses, if they did so.

In a haze, you watched your friends play, one after the other, until it was your turn. You relaxed your stiffened posture as you stood up, feeling a lot of gaze on your back as you walked up to choose a ball. Picking and holding up a bright orange one, you tried to look confident. That is, until a booming voice called out to you.

“Go, Yelena!” You turned around, but already knew who that voice belong to. Not much to your surprise, Deadpool was waving at you enthusiastically. He even bowled a strike when it was his turn, and now he is encouraging you!

“Shut up, dude! It’ not the good time the flirt with her!” Someone shouted back at him from the crowd, making you blush furiously.

You decided to concentrate on your task, but was stopped once again as Loey-guy talked again.

“But she’s in love with me! She even sewed back my head to its place. I tell you, it was love at first sight!”

“Maybe she did it backwards.”

“I’d like to ask other players and viewers not to disturb the player during their turn,” came the owner’s voice from everywhere, but it was too late for you: your face already beat a tomato with its redness.

Taking a deep breath, you finally felt peace washing over your body. Ears turning deaf to the sound from everyone else, you only focused on the ball and the pins far from you. You took one step, two steps, three steps, your body bending in the learned form, fingers firmly letting go of the ball. Then your body immediately shot up and bent to left, hoping it would make the ball go more to that side than the right. You knocked down three pins. No, four. Well, it wasn’t that bad, you just have to collect the spares.

You picked a black ball this time, doing everything again, but when you tried to make it go a little more to the left than the first side, it ended up in the gutter on the left. Taking a deep breath, your head hung low. You knew you weren’t good, but it was different from playing only with your friends. There was a ton of strangers watching how well you did, their gaze turning you into a sweaty ball of nerves. Inhaling another deep breath, you straightened your back; on the lane next to yours Iron Man was preparing for his turn.

Minji and Yeonjun sent you a smile as you walked back to the seats, which were already rearranged on both teams’ side. Your seat’s back was turned to the back of the one where Deadpool sat. Your sour mood increasing a little when you noticed that his stupid mask was still on his head. Why couldn’t he just show his face? Wasn’t it too hot in here to wear a mask and a suit for hours?

“Wasn’t that bad, noona. It could have gone to the gutter immediately. At least you scored us some points,” said the maknae. You gave him a short nod, eyes on him, but all the nerves in your body was focused on the man behind you. His presence was overwhelming. “And who cares about free food? You guys can buy me meals all the time anyway.”

“Shut up, baby Junnie,” you shot back at him, but there wasn’t any edge in your voice.

“He’s not wrong, though.” A deep voice came from behind you.

You turned around in sync with the maknae, your face mere inches away from the masked face of the Loey-guy. He smells nice, you noted to yourself.

“Who is he, noona?” He asked once again, as if he was expecting a different answer than last time.

Yeonjun’s whisper was useless when you were sitting so close to the person he was talking about. The masked face turned in his direction, and the younger boy immediately leaned back a little to gain some space between themselves.

“I have no idea,” you said in a normal volume.

“You can call me Yeol, but Handsome God would be much more preferred.”

So this is where the Loey came from, you thought, he just wrote it backwards. You wanted to make a witty response, but your brain left you with nonsense thoughts. Like how his arms looked strong under the suit. And the tone of his voice was really nice, he easily could be a narrator for any movie. You would listen to it all the time. But still, that stupid mask…

“Yeah, we can’t confirm that since all we see is a mask. You could be the ugliest hyung in this whole place, actually. I bet noona would be disappointed if you had the scarred face of Deadpool, and still try to flirt with her.”

Yeol didn’t correct the maknae when he referred to him as hyung, or the fact that he was trying to flirt with you.

“He’s not flirting with me,” you said after a long pause, gaining a disbelieving look from Yeonjun and Yeol’s attention. In reality, you thought too that he was flirting with you, or tried to, you just wanted confirmation of it. So you tried to use reverse psychology. “Right?”

“Yeah. I’m totally not flirting. It’s just that my friend thinks you are cute,” he shrugged, not turning his head away from you. For some reasons you felt disappointed. This was not how you thought it would go. Hoping that it wouldn’t show on your face, you turned your gaze to the current player. Songwoo just collected all his spares, but the gap was only growing bigger between your teams.

“God, if you say that you are the friend, I might hit someone.” Despite his words and disgusted expression, you knew that the maknae was enjoying himself.

“Well,” Yeol said slowly. “I definitely not gonna say that now. But you might be right.”

“So you really were flirting with me.”

You even surprised yourself with how calm you sounded. On the inside, you were freaking out. Your heartbeat fastened up, palms getting sweaty, but feeling a little sour about not seeing his face yet. Looks aren’t everything, yes, but they did matter somewhat. Also, he was witty.

Yeonjun stood up. It was his turn soon, and he always spent some extra time picking out his ball.

“What did you think I was doing?”

“Being loyal to Deadpool’s crazy character?”

“Oh, that too, but it was mostly flirting.” A long, sticky pause. You held your breath, not knowing what to say. “How about this: you forget my lame confession about flirting with you and I teach you how to bowl better.”

“It wasn’t lame. And I don’t think there is any hope for me. All of my friends tried their luck with me, and I still can be happy if my ball doesn’t end up in the gutter.”

“But I haven’t tried yet. I’m the best bowling player in Seoul.” He leaned a little closer, as if he knew that his presence would make you dizzy enough to say yes without thinking.

“Okay, but I want to see your face beforehand.”

“Aw, I can’t just take it off here.” His voice was whiny, maybe he was even pouting.

“Why not?”

He leaned closer. If that silly mask wasn’t on his face, you would feel his breath on your face. Now you could only see how his chest rose and fell. His scent got stronger, filling your senses. It was an earthy smell mixed with some cologne. You couldn’t take off your eyes of him.

“People would see, you know, and then the mystery goes away.”

“That’s plainly stupid. I bet it’s goddamn hot in that suit and mask. And the people here probably don’t even care about your face, they just want to see how you play and how many point you score to your team.”

“But you care.”

You didn’t have the chance to answer or react. One of his teammates called out to him, referring to him as hyung, and he stood up with the speed of lightning, leaving you wondering about his words.

He was right, You cared about what he looked like. There was a rough image of him in your mind, but your wanted, no, needed to see him. You didn’t want to go home tonight without getting a full glimpse of him. And apparently he knew that very well.

After bowling a strike once again, he came back, sitting down on his previous spot and turning to you with his upper body. Suddenly, you wished you left you own half-mask on, so he would be in the same position as you. Rolling a blonde lock of the wig, you looked at lanes where the game took place. He stayed silent, but still could feel his eyes on your skin, your face.

The scoring board said that you were more than forty points behind. Nothing that couldn’t be turned around in a normal game, but it was your turn. That gap will only decrease by a few points or stays the same.

“When you’re letting go of the ball, don’t stop your arm in front of your chest. It might look cool, but you’ll be more precise of you fully follow up the movement.”

He’s tone was serious for the first time tonight, and you nodded at him with a surprised look. Then relaxing, you smiled.

“Is the teaching starts now?”

“No. I need a good reason for meeting you again,” he said it so casually, as if it was as obvious as his flirting tactics.

Instead of saying anything, you walked to your lane after picking a ball. It was red, and felt a little heavier than the previous one. You thought about the usual movements of your body during bowling, then reminded yourself about Yeol’s advice. Fully following through the movement with your arm. Doesn’t sound too hard.

“You can do it, Y/N!” Minji shouted behind you, making you nearly drop the ball. A solid laugh came from here and there as you lifted the red thing to your chest again.

You did everything as you remembered, and when it came to letting go of the ball, you purposefully raised you arm over your chest this time, not stopping it in the middle, as Yeol said. The ball knocked down six pins. You picked an another ball, repeating the same routine as you did, combined with Yeol’s advice, and to your own surprise you knocked down the remaining pins too.

Staring down at your hands in horror, your teammates ran up to you, cheering and hugging you, Yeonjun even asked how in the hell did you do that. You shook your head, not knowing what to say, only grinning like a mad woman.

Sitting back down, Yeol held out his hand for a high-five, his head slightly tilted to one side. You grinned at him, hitting your palm to his. He quickly grabbed your fingers with his glove covered one and squeezed your hand, then just as fast as it happened, he let go. Your smile slowly disappeared, and you had to shake your again to not read too much into this.

“Not bad. Now you just have to fix your posture a little more and you’ll be fine.”

“And you want to help with that too?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then take off the mask,” he chuckled at your sudden demand. This time he turned away his head to look somewhere else, contemplating your words. But he leaned closer, you noticed.

“So this is what it’s really about, huh?” he said, and your heart sink to your stomach for no reason, palms getting sweaty.

There was something in his voice – like he just solved the mystery of your existence, and finally found out everything about you. Or you just really started to read too much into things. Still, you felt nervous.

Then somewhat quieter, he continued: “You want to get into my pants.”

You snorted, and turned away from him, but leaned back on the chair anyway.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t hear you say no.”

You refused to answer or react, but felt him close to you. Probably leaned to your ear to tempt you more, and this way others won’t hear anything. Crossing your arms over your shoulder, you pouted, looking like a child who didn’t get what they wanted. At the same time you were conscious how the movement pushed you boobs higher up, making them look better. Did he notice?

“Is he bothering you?” Songwoo asked, his eyes going back and forth between you and Yeol.

“Tries,” you said.

“No,” he said.

“Okay,” Songwoo responded, then turned away, shrugging his shoulders.

Answering at the same time made you look at him, which was a big mistake. You immediately forgot about Songwoo, because Yeol’s face was indeed really close to yours. If it wasn’t for that stupid mask, you could have kissed him. Not like you were bold enough to kiss a stranger in public, who successfully swept you off of your feet, but he was… mesmerizing.

“I take off the mask, if you honestly admit it.” The raspy, low tone made you braver, feeling like an invincible woman. You looked down at the place on the mask where his mouth was supposed to be, hoping he would catch the sign. You heard him gulp.

“Admit what?”

“You want to get into my pants.”

“Isn’t the same goes for you?”

“True, I want to do the same. So?” You insides clenched at his confession. Pressing your thighs together, you straightened your back.

“Fine. I might want to get into your pants. There, so when can I take it off?” you whispered, eyes lingering between the mask and his suit-covered chest, not making it obvious which one you were talking about.

“Fuck,” he muttered with feelings, suddenly leaning away, leaving you breathless and confused.

The rest of the game went by in a blur. Yeol didn’t talk much to you afterwards, but always sit on the same chair, the closest one to yours. His head often turned to you. It felt like he was trying to say something, but didn’t how to put his thoughts into words properly. With each passing minute, a knot formed in your throat, not so sure about the whole thing anymore.

He seemed to be into the flirty back and forth between you two, but on the other hand he didn’t talk to you since you admitted that you were sexually interested in him. Was it even a good idea to hook up with a total stranger, whose face you haven’t even seen yet? He could be a murderer for all you knew. But what kind of murderer would sign up for a bowling competition with his friends on Halloween, dress up and act like Deadpool? It didn’t make any sense.

In the end, your team lost by a lot of points. You had to go back to a table in the back, so the next game could start on the two main lanes. You wondered if you should go up to Yeol and say something, or ask him what’s gonna happen next, or how this thing would go down.

Scavengers won, so he still had to play at least one more game, even more if they were really good.

“Do we stay and watch the other games?” Songwoo asked all of you as you gathered your drinks and bottles from the table to give place to the new players.

“I have more glitter on my body than a stripper. I didn’t do it for us to stay just an hour then go straight home,” Seohee frowned at the boy, who stuck his tongue out in response.

“I don’t think they hire fairies as strippers.” “Maybe they do in kinky clubs,” Yeonjun chimed in, then nearly poked a hole in your ribs with his elbow. His eyes grew wide as he looked behind you, pointing at a tall man in red and black suit. “I think your superhero, who flirts awfully, is looking for you. Do you want me to stay with you, in case he tries with something weird?”

“It’s okay. He won’t try anything I wouldn’t want anyway.”

The maknae opened his mouth to respond, but Yeol finally caught up with you. He looked at Yeonjun than at you, then back at the boy again.

“Oh, right, I still have to walk our stripper fairy back to her club, see you later, noona!” He spoke faster than you could comprehend his words. Taking your drink and purse away from you, he turned around, grabbed Seohee by her arm, who lingered behind with you, and dragged her to the table, where Songwoo and Minji already put their stuff down.

He cleared his throat, and for a few seconds none of you said anything. You could feel your friends staring daggers into your back, and when you looked at them to check if you were right, they quickly turned away, pretending they were doing something entirely else.

“So you wanted to see my face.”

With that, he got your full attention. Taking a deep breath, you nodded. He held out his hand, and you put yours into his, the gloves warm under your touch, his hold confident. You felt your body becoming lighter, like you were walking on clouds, as he led you away from the main area straight to the restrooms.

It felt just right holding his hand. Your head felt dizzy with excitement, as you followed him until he stopped in front of the men’s restroom, first shoving only his head inside, listening and checking if someone was in there. After deciding the coast was clear, you went in. Hearing the lock clicking behind you, you got got more nervous. Why does it felt a much bigger deal than just him taking off his mask?

“So what is Yeol short for? Is it a nickname?” you asked, when he didn’t say anything, only leaned his back onto the wall next to the hand dryer.

“It’s Chanyeol, actually.”

“Nice to meet you, Chanyeol. I’M Y/N.” Your voice sounded too formal to a situation where you basically were supposed to plan a hookup. He must have found it weird too, because he laughed; voice bubbling, the kind which made you smile. “Now that we are done with introductions, need help with that?”

Taking a few steps closer to Chanyeol, until you were standing in front of him, you pointed at his mask.

“Definitely,” voice raspy, deeper than you’ve ever heard, luring you even closer to him. “But I have to warn you: you might not get a chance to take a good look at me.”

Bold with your actions, you took the final step, closed the distance between the two of you, basically pressing yourself to him. You hummed at the sensation. His body felt warm and firm under the suit. You slowly lifted your hands, fingers quickly finding the edge of the mask. Voice coming out as a whisper, you asked:

“And why is that?”

“If you tease me like that,” his palm slipped to your hips, pulling you closer; his body not just firm anymore, his cock pressed hard against your stomach. “I won’t be able to hold back, and just kiss you right away.”

You smiled smugly, feeling confident and powerful, you pulled his mask upwards. Despite the circumstances, a chuckle slipped past your lips as you struggled with the fabric. It was like taking off plastic gloves of your hands: difficult and time consuming. A whiny ‘ouch’ left his lips a few times, but after his ears got out of the way, it was easy.

With the mask in one hand, you leaned back a little to finally drink his features in, and save them in your memory. And you didn’t have to be disappointed.

He was nothing like you imagined. Plump lips slightly opened, a freckle on his nose, three other on the right side of his face and two more on his jaw, near his ear – his ears, which stood out a little, giving him a little childish look. Brown locks of hair, fluffy, although damp from being trapped under the mask. They were a little wavy too, the kind which makes you want run your fingers through it repeatedly. And his eyes… Fuck, his eyes were fixated on your lip, a hungry light flickering in them.

One of his hands left your hips, and snaked up on your back, making you lean close to him. Your noses nearly touched. His breath fanned over your face. You swallowed hard, your mind filled with thoughts about what those lips could do to you in bed.

“So? What do you think?” His voice came out low and thick with lust, making you shiver.

“Would it sound bad, if I said that I just want to get you out of that stupid suit more than before?” He looked stunned by your sudden confession, but then the next moment he collected himself and smiled at you warmly.

“You are reading my mind.” Licking you lower lip instinctively, you watched him follow the movement with his eyes, even heard him groan. “Can I kiss you a little? Just to get a taste before going back out there?”

Instead of answering him, you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him. The moment your lips touched, his arms tightened around you, as if he tried to melt you into himself. It made all your thoughts run far away from you, and you didn’t even want them to come back if it meant that you could kiss more.

Chanyeol kissed you carefully, not trying to cross any invisible lines, but his hands constantly roamed around your body, making your blood boil and making your skin tingle. It has been some time since you’ve been with a man, and his hardness pressed between your bodies made a knot form in your stomach. You were getting aroused just by thinking about what he could do to you if all these clothes wouldn’t separate you.

A moan slipped past your lips when he licked them, then dipped his tongue into your mouth, tasting you fully.

A loud knock on the door startled both of you, the kiss cut too short for you liking.

“Come on, man, I have to take a piss, just let me in already!”Someone said, rather upset being stuck outside.

You felt you face turning from embarrassment, and Chanyeol’s ears tinted with the same color, although his eyes were wide from want. You slowly wiped away a little saliva from his lower lip, not knowing what to say. You felt breathless, you body begging for more kisses, more touches.

When the knocking repeated, you left the trance-like state, shaking your head and stepping away to go out, and probably embarrass yourself. He didn’t let you too far though, One arm snaking around your lower back, the other unlocking and opening the door, but only after wiping your skin under your lips with his thumb.

“I messed up your lipstick,” he explained.

A man dressed as an alien blinked at you in surprise, then quickly overcame the fact that you probably made out in the men’s bathroom, and barged in, going straight into the closest stall.

You scanned the place, looking for your friends, feeling too nervous to talk to Chanyeol about what just happened, or what could happen later tonight. Your legs still wobbly, you sighed. Chanyeol cleared his throat next to you, and your friends seemed to be nowhere in sight.

“I meant it, you know.”

“Which part?” you asked absentmindedly, fearing to look him in the eyes now, that you finally got rid off the mask. You looked down at the material in your hand, considering whether to give it back to him, or to take it with you.

“Where I said that I want to teach you to play bowling properly later on. And the ‘getting into your pants’ part too.”

The more you stared at him, the more his ears stuck out, even his fluffy hair couldn’t hide them. His eyes looked pure and convincing, when you looked into them. You held out the mask to him.

“I’ll be with my friends, until you finish,” you said, and smiled when confusion washed over his face. “The only question is: are we gonna go to your place or mine?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” he whispered as he grabbed your hand with the mask and pulled you to his chest. It happened so fast, you could barely register that he kissed you again, he let you go before you had the chance to kiss him back. “Did you really just asked whose place we should go?”

“Yeah. I thought that was the whole point.”

“Well, yes, but I never really thought my flirting would actually work.”

“We just made out literally five minutes ago, basically felt up each other, and you still think that I don’t want to hook up?” You were genuinely stunned. Was he playing a game with you? But the look in his eyes was so innocent, it couldn’t be that he was only toying with you.

Fortunately, there wasn’t many people around you, most of them were watching the games, only a few wandered around to go to the restrooms. Looking around, you waited for his response.

“I never really did this before. I mean hooking up with someone I barely know.”

“Oh. Well, if it helps, I don’t do that often either.” Your gazes met once again, and you smiled at him encouragingly, a little cheekily. “Only when a handsome guy, who dresses up as Deadpool, flirts with me lamely on Halloween.”

His shoulders lowered a little. After exhaling loudly, he returned you smile.

“Does it happen often?”

“That’s my first time,” you shrugged. Stepping closer to press your body to his again, savoring the feeling. You placed a hand on his chest, the other was still held captive by his hand. His hot breath fanned over your face. The knot in your stomach tightened, you had to press your thighs together, when he licked his lips in anticipation. “So, whose place it’s gonna be?”

“Do you live close by?”

Scavengers lost in the next round. Not because Chanyeol played terribly on purpose to end it faster, but the other team was truly better than them. They almost made it look like a game between professional players, it was a sight to remember.

Chanyeol’s balls were fast and accurate, the only sign that he wanted to end it soon. He often stole glances in your direction, where you sat with your friends. His face was hidden by the mask again, but your heart still beat faster whenever he turned to you.

Of course, your friends, especially Seohee and Yeonjun, tried to get you spill the tea about what just happened with the ‘Deadpool-guy’, as they called him (you kept his name to yourself), but you refused to say anything. While changing your shoes back, you hinted that you wouldn’t be walking home with them tonight, and might leave a little early, which was just adding fuel to the fire. Questions thrown at you faster than bullets, only stopped for a few seconds to breathe. You looked at Songwoo and Minji, begging for help with your eyes, but the girl looked back at you with surprise in her eyes, and the boy… well, he smiled like he was having the time of his life.

“Oh, stop it already!” You shushed them, when you finally had enough. “He seems nice, not a creep, and he’s interested in me too. So what’s so bad about hooking up with him? Seohee, you tell me all the time that I should find someone too.”

“Well, yeah, but didn’t mean that you should take home a complete stranger.”

“You do the same from time to time.”

Seohee opened her mouth, but words didn’t come out so she just shut it. Her eyes scanned your face, looking for something, and when she found it, a smirk appeared on her lips. She nodded, mostly to herself, then proudly said:

“You already made out with him!” Instinctively lifted your hand to your lips, remembering Chanyeol mentioning the smudged lipstick, and that was enough for Seohee, she pointed an accusing finger at you. “I fuckin’ knew it!”

Yeonjun snickered next to the girl, then his gaze wandered somewhere behind you for the second time tonight. After poking Seohee, she looked there too.

“You know what? I would take him home too,” the girl whispered cheekily, and looked into your eyes. “But promise to call me if something goes weird. I’ll call you in the morning, and if you won’t answer, I’m gonna march in there and cut his dick off.”

“Or worse,” the maknae added.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” you agreed.

Rolling your eyes, you turned around to check if they were just teasing you or Chanyeol was really coming to your table.

Well, he was coming. Tall, broad shoulders highlighted by the suit, the mask openly mocking you with hiding his face again. You already got a taste of him, now you couldn’t wait for more.

Abruptly, you stood up, realizing that if Chanyeol reaches the table, he’s gonna meet your friends, and they would probably make some jokes about you. He shouldn’t hear those kind of jokes, he might change his mind about going home with you or teaching you to bowl better.

Quickly gathering your stuff, you threw some money on the table, asking your friends to pay for your drink from it and said goodbye to them, all that before Chanyeol could come near them. As you walked to him, someone wolf whistled behind you, and you refused to turn around and check who it was. It sounded like Seohee anyway.

Chanyeol tilted his head, when you met him halfway, neither of you knowing what to do. A smile appeared on your lips at your own shyness. It seemed to ease his mind, grabbing your hand, and walking in the direction of the entrance.

“I have to admit, you’re a really good player.”

He turned to you, his hold tightening around your fingers.

“You haven’t seen everything yet. I just wanted to get over it fast. It’s a pity that we lost, but…” He trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively.

You walked back on the same path you came to the bowling alley, except this time you weren’t accompanied by your friends, but a handsome man, who still hid his figures behind the mask. You put back the glasses, hiding the upper half of your face too. You wished he would pull up his mask a little and kiss you, but was thankful he didn’t, because when he did that back in the restroom you nearly lost your mind, getting wet and moaning into his mouth.

His hand held yours firmly, sometimes turning his face to you, but quickly turning back watching the street in front of you.

You smiled at his antics. It only made sense when you glanced down at his crotch. His erection was straining against his suit. The same need and want must have running through his veins too. Luckily to him, there wasn’t many people out on streets, who would have noticed it.

Hands trembling a little while looking for your keys in your purse, as your reached your apartment, you let yourselves in. Chanyeol followed you closely up on the stairs, his palm often reaching for your hips, stroking your ass while he was there. You chuckled, not saying anything, just stopping and feeling him press up against your back, then running away from him a little. His laugh echoed in the hallways.

“You have a nice place,” he said as you finally arrived to your apartment.

After taking off your shoes and putting your purse away, you didn’t know what to do or say. You felt awkward, just standing in the small hall area. You watched as Chanyeol sloppily put his shoes next to yours, then finally took his mask off. Hair fluffier than ever, eyes shining and dark. He licked his lips, ruffling his hair sheepishly.

Hesitantly, he reached his hand out for you, gaze literally devouring you, and you just had to give in to him. You wanted to.

One hand snaking around your lower back, the other taking off your half-mask, throwing it next to your purse. Then his hand came back to your face, fingers running along your hairline, or more like the wig’s hairline.

“It’s a wig, right?”

“Yes.” You helped him taking it off, then pulling off the thin fabric too that held your real hair in place. As it came off too, dyed red locks flowed down, laying on your shoulders.

“Who knew life would follow the comics?” he asked, distracted by your hair.

“What do you mean?”

“Deadpool fell in love with Yelena Belova as Black Widow, but later on they found out that it was Natasha Romanov in disguise all along.” He twirled a lock of hair between his fingers. The redness seemed to be flying around on his palm smoothly.

At the same time you couldn’t take your eyes off of his lips. Lust took over you, body moving on its own as you pushed him against the door and kissed him deeply. He was only surprised for a moment, then he kissed you back just as hard.

It was much more needy and lustful than the one back at the bowling alley; teeth clashing, tongue fighting for dominance, hands roaming wherever they could reach on each other’s body. He could freely grab your ass now, shoving your hips together, his length pressing to your crotch and stomach, buttons on your suit biting harsh into your skin.

Lips busy kissing, hands busy unbuttoning his damn suit, that he looked so good in, but wanted him to take off. A long exhale escaped you when finishing with the buttons your fingers didn’t reach bare skin but the cotton of a t-shirt. He chuckled, voice resonating through your body as he leaned away a little. With half-lidded eyes he looked down at you.

“Don’t be too surprised that I have a men’s stockings underneath too.”

“Are you serious?” you asked, hands already dipping deeper in the suit to confirm what he just said.

God, he really was wearing a thin stockings. Since you went that far, you reached one layer further and deeper, caressing and grabbing his cock. He inhaled sharply, eyes closing for a second, then moaning loudly and bringing your face up for another kiss.

Massaging his erection slowly, you got wet from the noises he made. He was vocal, humming and groaning in your mouth, even whining when you did something he especially enjoyed, like running your thumb over his tip, smudging some precum over it, or cupping his balls, squeezing them lightly.

“The suit was hurting my skin without it,” he whispered after a long time. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Yeah, we should.” But none of you moved for a long time.

Leaving your lips, Chanyeol kissed down on your neck, unbuttoning your suit along the way, and leaving a burning trace of skin behind. You tried to continue undressing him with your free hand but it just didn’t work out. Not really wanting to separate from him, you were hesitant but took a small step back. He looked at you questioningly, body instinctively moving to close the gap fast. You held out a hand to hold him back, making him more confused. You smiled at him.

“I can’t take off your clothes if you keep kissing me like that.”

It turned his pout into a smile too. You pointed behind your back, then spoke up again:

“My bedroom is this way.”

Grabbing your shoulders he flipped you around.

“Lead the way, Y/N.” Your name sounded sinful coming from his lips. Tone low from want, you leaned into his touch as you marched into your room.

He wasn’t looking around, when you turned back to him; no, his eyes were fixated on you, your body, your face. Your stomach tightened in excitement.

No one ever looked at you like that. As if he was a thirty man stuck in a desert and you were a glass of water. His gaze made you just as intoxicated as his kisses.

Time and tension seemed to slow down, now it was more important to enjoy the moment than getting fast to the main part. You lead Chanyeol to your bed, making him sit on the edge, then finally peeled him out of his suit. A simply gray t-shirt hugged his upper body, a few tattoos littering around on his arms, veins popping out here and there. Fuck, he looked good. You stood between his legs. You noticed his stomach twitching, when you reached for the hem of the gray fabric, trying to pull it off in one swift movement. He held up his hands. With his ears sticking out, arms high up in the air, he looked like a child.

He had a really nice body. Toned arms, fine outline of abs, firm muscles hard as you caressed his skin. Nipples a shade darker than his lips, hard and pointy. You wanted to taste every inch of his body, knowing if he was as delicious as he looked.

He stopped you when you went for his pants, making you look him in the eyes.

“My turn,” he said.

He motioned for you to climb on his lap, caressing your thighs as you got on the bed and him, then firmly pressing you down on his lap. A soft moan escaped you as your core made contact with his length. It was hot and hard even through your clothes. His fingers, that were busy getting you out of the suit and revealing your bra-covered chest, halted in motion as you started grinding against his cock. You couldn’t hold back yourself anymore. You clenched around nothing, when he thrust his hips upwards, his hands working faster in getting you out of the black material.

Head buried in his neck, you suck bruises on the soft skin, and his shoulder and chest too, littering purplish spots on him.

“It’s okay, don’t stop,” he muttered when you stopped at a particularly loud whine from him, thinking it was because of pain. “I like it.”

You didn’t even notice when he unclasped your black bra, only feeling the cool air hitting your breasts.

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” he said, before his mouth closed around one nipple. Your breath hitched as he sucked, even bit down a little on it. Your hips moving in a slow rhythm, hoaxing soft sounds from him. “I won’t last long if we keep doing this.”

“Than better get naked fast,” you whimpered, not really trusting your voice anymore.

Clothes seemed to disappear afterwards, he undressed you with caring hands, but throwing the clothes without looking. His fingers dig into your skin when he pulled your panties off, a simple yellow cotton one, nothing special, maybe just the wet spot from your arousal on it. He looked up at you from between your legs, leaning on one hand, the other hiking higher and higher up on your thigh, until he reached your slit. Eyes dark with want, he asked:

“Do you want me to eat you out a little?” Then pressed his thumb down on your clit, drawing circles on it.

He took your whimper as a yes, because he didn’t wait. Only wetting his lips, and with that, his mouth was all over you. He kissed you down there like he did with the lips on your face: deeply, enthusiastically and with a lot of tongue. He had to put his arm on your stomach to hold you down, as you kept moving around. It was too much, the knot in your stomach growing bigger and bigger with every lick of his tongue.

Suddenly, he stopped, blowing air on your core, the coolness making you shiver.

Getting rid of his suit, pulling stockings and pants down in one go, your mouth watered from watching his cock spring free. It was long with a pink tip, a vein running along it, and hard. He smiled at your expression, hair messed up, sticking to his forehead. Chanyeol climbed above you. Resting one hand next to your head, he grabbed yours with the other and guided it to his length. It twitched when you wrapped your hand around him, the tip shiny with precum. Caressing his face with your free hand, and pulling him down for a kiss completely melting under his lips. Squeezing with your fingers, he rolled into your touch, his breath tickling your ear.

“Does it feel good?” you asked sheepishly, when he exhaled shakily.

“God, yes, fuck, I just…” he trailed off. “Do you have a condom? I want to be in you. Like right now.”

You squeezed his length again, his whimper echoing in your ears, then reached to your nightstand. You remembered putting some condoms away in there, thinking it might come handy in the future. You thanked your past-self for being mindful enough.

It wasn’t an easy task, though. Chanyeol kept kissing your body wherever he could reach, all while rutting himself against your mound, not missing grinding against your clit each again and again. Your hands trembled, accidentally pushing a book off the nightstand, but in the end you found what your were looking for.

After sitting up, he ripped the package and rolled the condom down on his cock. Your chest rose and fell quickly. Watching him, your hand slipped between your legs. After wetting your fingers with arousal, you drew eight-figures on your clit. You clenched hard again on nothing, waiting to feel him in you.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled, shuffling around in between your legs. Digging his fingers into your thighs, he pulled your legs wider apart, fully exposing you.

Settling comfortable, he slid the tip on your slit up and down a few times. You were more than ready for him. Finally sinking into you, you moaned loudly. Both of your eyes were locked on where you connected, watching as he disappeared in you inch by inch. Your back arched up as he bottomed out. He stretched you out well, you needed a few moments to get used to it; he didn’t look that thick at first glance. He was long too, filling you up fully.

His groaning grew stronger as he pulled out, then buried in you again. Then repeated it a little faster, a little harder. You whimpered when he pulled out, tip almost coming out, but never actually leaving your pussy.

“Can I try something?” He panted, lying down on you and kissing you.

Grabbing the closest thing you could found, you wrapped your hands around his arms, muscles rock hard under your touch. You could only moan, forming words was a complicated task with him nonstop pounding into you. He put his free hand under your head, holding himself up on his lower arm. Fingers getting lost in your hair, massaging your scalp, he repeated his question.

“I need you to answer, baby.” The petname made you sink further into oblivion, but he brought you back by slowing down his movements. He pulled out infuriatingly carefully, and pushed back even slower, but harshly whipped himself into you at the last inch. “What do you say? Can you put your leg on my shoulder for me?”

You nodded, swallowing hard as he picked his pace up again. Pushing himself up, his fingers snaked around your left ankles and pulled it over his shoulder just like he asked. You didn’t even came yet, and you were fucked out already. Skin glowing form sweat, hips moving as if he was dancing, you felt like exploding. This way he went deeper, hitting at a different angle, heat growing faster in your lower abdomen than before. You would come soon.

Lifting your hips, you welcomed his with every push. Chanyeol turned his head to your leg, kissing and biting down on your ankle to mute down his groans a little. It was no use, he was still as loud as you anyway. It was game over for you when he licked his fingers, putting them on your clit, sloppily drawing circles and pushing down on it a little.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, right before your hands fisted in the sheets, eyes widened as white hotness run through your body. You clenched hard around Chanyeol’s length, only soft ‘fuck’ exclamations leaving your lips.

He pushed your leg back down on the bed, falling on you, slamming his cock harder and deeper if that was possible. His muscles flexed under your touch when you splayed them across his back, then going down, squeezing his ass. You watched him closely, his eyes fluttering shut, smooth skin painted with hickeys made by you, wanting to remember it forever. Probably even make new memories like this with him.

Chanyeol moaned into your ear, kissing you once more. He shuddered in your arms. You could feel his length pulse in you, his body collapsing on you. His skin was hot against yours, lips kissing a wet trail across your jaw to your mouth.

His kiss was slow and comfortable, not driven by lust anymore, simply tasting you and exploring your mouth thoroughly. Cock soft, he pulled out of you. Chanyeol shivered when you took the condom off of him, throwing it out in the trash near your bed.

“It was good for you too, right?” he asked somewhat sheepishly, as you lay back next to him. His hands were instantly on your body, not teasing, just holding you. He blinked slowly. Lips dark and wet with saliva, you wanted to kiss him again.

“Yeah, one of the biggest orgasms I’ve ever had.”

“One of?”

“Let me keep my pride, okay? I can’t say that I had the best sex ever with a man we barely know each other.”

“Well, if you come with me on the bowling date I was talking about earlier, then we can get to know each other better.”

“Wait!” You shifted up to your elbow to look at him. “You meant a date when you talked about teaching me bowling?”

“What else could I have mean?”

“I don’t know.” Shivering as he dipped his fingers between your legs, teasing your sensitive clit and slit, his other hand hugging you to his bare body.

“But I can promise, if you go on a date with me, I’ll eat you out afterwards. Twice.”

Fuck, why does he have to sound so hot? You were getting wet again, soaking his fingers as he pushed one in you, moving it sensually in and out. A moan was threatening to slip out. You clenched when he added a second finger, waiting for your answer. You weren’t lazy either, palming his cock, feeling him grow hard again in your hand.

“I’ll say yes if you fuck me in the shower.”

what started as a lust-fuelled, one time thing has somehow spiralled into a daily occurrence for the two of you.

he's been staying back recently, under the pretense of keeping you company as you finish your work so that you don't feel alone in the large office this late at night.

no one else knows that he's been keeping you company in more ways than one.

so when junmyeon proposes you take a break for a little while, it doesn't take much for you to accept his proposal.

you've done quite a few things with him—hurried blowjobs under the desk before his meetings, cockwarming him when he's reading contracts, letting him spread you open against his desk and eat you out when he's fed up with work.

but this?

being pushed against the large glass window overlooking the bright lights of the city that are oblivious to what the two of you are doing, hours after everyone else has left? your breasts pressed against the cold glass, your entire body naked and exposed for anyone to look at while junmyeon's almost fully dressed behind you, peppering your neck with slow, sensual kisses that do not match the pace with which he's working his cock in and out of you?

it's a first. and it turns you on as much as it makes you nervous.

“make all the noise you want to, baby. no one's going to hear you.”

your head is spinning from the filthy sounds in the room, skin slapping against skin and the grunts junmyeon is letting out.

“r-right there,” you manage to pant out, hands scrabbling for purchase as junmyeon drills into that one spot that makes you see stars. “fuck, myeon.”

“you looked so good in the meeting today,” he whispers, voice a low, hot growl against your ear. “i saw chanyeol staring at you the whole time. is that why you wore that tight little shirt? you wanted to get a reaction out of me?”

“no, myeon, i—ah, fuck—of course not!”

“could've fooled me,” he says, nipping at your earlobe. “made me want to take you right there, against the table, with everyone watching. park should know what's not his.”

“’m yours,” you exhale mindlessly, only focused on chasing your high. you push yourself back against him to feel him go even deeper. “not his. not anyone else's.”

“mhm.” junmyeon snakes a hand down to rub your clit as he speeds up his strokes, rhythm uneven, the way it is when you know he's close. “going to take all of me like the good girl you are?”

Monday morning arrived with its usual sharp reality. Standing in the elevator, you watched the floor numbers climb, adjusting the collar of your blazer to make absolutely certain that the faint, fading shadow on your collarbone was completely invisible to the rest of the world.

When the doors opened, there he was.

Junmyeon was standing by the printer, looking untouchable. His suit was tailored to perfection, his hair was swept back, not a single strand out of place, and he was tearing into a junior analyst about a formatting error in a report. But then, his eyes caught yours.

For a split second, the mask slipped. His gaze dropped to your lips, then flickered to your neck, a knowing glint appearing in his eyes that made your skin tingle with the memory of his mouth on yours. He didn’t smile. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, a familiar, arrogant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re five minutes late.” His voice was smooth and professional. “Busy weekend?”

“I just like to make an entrance, Kim,” you countered, walking past him to leave your purse, purposely brushing your shoulder against his arm.

Junmyeon let out a sharp, scoffing laugh—the kind designed specifically to piss you off—and as usual, he spent the rest of the morning sabotaging your workflow. He accidentally forgot to CC you on a memo, challenged your data in the 10:00 AM briefing, and made sure to mention his sales leads at every possible opportunity.

It was infuriating. It was classic. It was exactly the kind of rivalry that kept the office gossiping.

The week was going to be long, and he was going to spend every second of it trying to get through your mind—and under your skin, but you didn’t mind. After all, you knew exactly how he looked when his suit was on the floor, and his pride was in your hands.

The BBQ restaurant was loud, filled with the sizzle of meat on grills and the boisterous laughter of a team finally letting off steam. Normally, a Wednesday night dinner would be a tactical battlefield for you and Junmyeon, but the atmosphere—and perhaps the several rounds of drinks—had softened the edges of the workday.

Junmyeon was sitting across from you, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the strong lines of his forearms as he expertly manned the grill. He was in his element, playing the part of the attentive manager, but his focus kept drifting.

While you were busy laughing at a story Minji was telling, you didn’t notice that your small dipping bowl was empty. Without a word, and without even breaking eye contact with the person he was talking to, Junmyeon reached over. He took your bowl, refilled it with the exact amount of sauce you liked, and placed it back in front of you.

A moment later, he noticed you struggling with a particularly large piece of galbi. Quietly, he picked up the kitchen shears, snipped the meat into perfect, bite-sized pieces for you, and nudged the plate closer to your hand. It was seamless—a silent, domestic habit that had no place in a professional rivalry.

Sora, sitting right next to you, went quiet. She watched the exchange with wide eyes, then leaned in close, her shoulder bumping yours.

“Okay… what’s going on with you two?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the clinking of glasses, but dripping with mischief. “Since when does Kim Junmyeon do table service?”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “He’s just doing the same for the whole team.”

“Uh-huh.” A smirk played on Sora’s lips as she watched Junmyeon subconsciously slide the best cut of ribeye onto your plate. “He hasn’t cut anyone else’s meat, babe. In fact, he just told Minho to get his own water.”

Minji caught it too, joining the conversation immediately. “If I didn’t know you guys hated each other, I’d say he looks like a man who’s already obsessed.”

“Exactly!”

“Look at him—he’s literally waiting for you to take a bite to see if it’s cooked right,” Minji added.

You looked up, and sure enough, Junmyeon was watching you through the haze of the grill smoke. He caught your eye, and for a split second, that arrogant, competitive mask was nowhere to be found.

“C’mon… he’s just being annoying,” you muttered to your friend, though your heart was hammering against your ribs.

“If that’s annoying,” Sora laughed, raising her glass to her lips, “then I need to find myself an enemy, fast.” Both of them laughed together while you tried to bite your tongue.

“I agree,” Hana added after being extremely quiet, observing everything with a mischievous smile. “It’s getting hot in here, huh?” She pinched your cheek, clearly mocking you.

“Please… shut up.”

The night stretched on, fueled by more rounds of drinks and the loud, comfortable chaos of the team. Even though you were sitting at opposite ends of the table now—having been separated by a reshuffle of seating—the air between you felt like a live wire.

You didn’t speak to him. You barely even looked at him. But you were acutely aware of Junmyeon in a way that felt almost biological. You could feel the exact moment his eyes drifted toward you from across the room; you could hear his low, distinct laugh even over ten other people talking.

It was a strange, magnetic tension that neither of you could explain to anyone else.

When the dinner finally wound down, and everyone spilled out onto the sidewalk to hail taxis, the cool night air hit you with a sharp clarity. The team was buzzing, exchanging hugs and drunken promises of “doing that every week,” but you stayed on the periphery, searching for your phone in your bag.

Suddenly, the space beside you grew warm.

“The driver is five minutes away,” Junmyeon said quietly. He wasn’t looking at you; he was looking at the traffic, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. “I put it on my app.”

“I can get my own uber, Junmyeon,” you replied, though the protest was weak. Neither of you drank that much, but somehow the alcohol had made your limbs feel heavy and your heart a little too open.

“I know you can,” he murmured, finally turning his head to look at you. The streetlights caught the sharp line of his jaw and the dark, unreadable depth of his eyes. “But I’m not asking.”

There was that dominance again—the quiet, effortless way he took charge that usually made you want to scream, but tonight, it just made your breath hitch.

The car was quiet, the city lights blurring into long, neon streaks across the window. Junmyeon looked like a completely different person in the dim cabin. With his head tilted back against the headboard and his glasses slightly askew, he looked human—vulnerable, even. His chest rose and fell in a slow, heavy rhythm that suggested he’d finally succumbed to the alcohol and the long day.

You let out a soft, huffing breath, leaning your head back as well. “Idiot,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the hum of the tires. “Acting like you’re so composed, cutting my food like that in front of everyone... you’re going to get us caught one of these days.”

You paused, watching the shadow of a streetlight pass over his sharp features.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you continued softly, thinking he was sleeping. “Being the most annoying person I’ve ever met and… the only one I actually wanna see at the end of the day. God—it’s frustrating.”

“I called it a talent.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Junmyeon hadn’t moved an inch, but his lips were parted in a lazy, lopsided smirk. He didn’t open his eyes, but he reached out, his hand fumbling blindly across the leather seat until his fingers found yours, lacing through them with a firm grip over his thigh.

“You’re… awake?” you stammered, feeling the heat rush to your face.

“Just resting.” His thumb began a slow stroke over the back of your hand. “And for the record, I wasn’t acting. You were struggling, and I know how much you hate asking for help, sweetheart.”

Junmyeon finally opened his eyes, though they were heavy and slightly unfocused behind his glasses. He turned his head to look at you, his gaze dropping to your mouth.

“By the way, you’re terrible at ‘hating’ me. Your voice gets all soft when you think I’m asleep. Adorable.”

You bit your cheek, a smile threatening to break through your annoyed facade. You quickly turned your face toward the window, looking out at the passing buildings to hide the way your lips were curving.

“Shut up, Kim,” you whispered, though you didn’t pull your hand away. “The alcohol is talking.”

“It made me honest.” His voice dropped to a low, intimate rasp as he pulled your hand toward his lap.

You looked back at him, your heart hammering. “Go back to sleep.”

“Yes, m’am.” He curved his lips before nodding at you, holding your hand tighter. The way he was looking at you, with that raw, unfiltered hunger, made you want to surrender all over again.

Of course, the elevator ride seemed to go on forever; the numbers on the display ticked by far too slowly. Junmyeon let you go in first and slowly stepped in behind you. Even when he acted quietly, he radiated a heat that was impossible to ignore.

“Go home,” he whispered, his hand ghosting over your elbow for a split second—a touch so brief it could have been an accident, if not for the way his fingers lingered. “Sleep. You look like you’re already dreaming.”

“And what would I be dreaming about?” you dared to ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

A slow, dangerous smirk ghosted over his lips. “Me. Obviously.”

“Then… you sure you want me to go?”

His eyes dropped to your lips; he couldn’t even answer your question. His mouth crashed onto yours as his life depended on it, wrapping his arm around your waist. Your fingers rapidly looked into his pocket for his keys, struggling to open the door when his lips slid through your neck.

“Fuck—I need you.”

“I know you do, Kim.”

The door slammed open. You didn’t even make it to his bedroom before his tie was wrapped around your fist, pulling him closer until you could feel the frantic thud of his heart against your chest.

It was like the heat in your bodies evaporated the alcohol in your systems. Effortlessly, Junmyeon carried you in his arms to take you to bed. His lips quickly found yours again, his fingers exploring every inch of your body that wasn’t covered by your clothes. Suddenly, his nimble hands slipped off your sweater and unbuttoned your blouse as his mouth trailed down to your neck and collarbone.

“What the hell did you do to me?” He sucked your lower lip, groaning when your fingers gripped his hair tightly.

“Hmm? Nothing… yet,” you purred, chuckling.

His lips curved. “You devilish woman.” Junmyeon just pulled away a few inches as his hands took his vest off, then his tie, and finally his shirt. Without breaking eye contact with you, he let his clothes fall piece by piece onto the floor. “Will you behave tonight?”

When he saw the look in your eyes—that defiant gaze that drove him completely crazy—he leaned in to kiss you once more, slowly, passionately, just like him.

But you weren’t waiting for permission. You knelt over the mattress, your fingers tangled in his belt, pulling on it until it loosened, unbuttoning his pants to take them off in a quick move that made him groan in surprise.

“Shit—”

Your palm met the searing heat against his boxers. His cock was semi-hard, but as your thumb began a slow, agonizingly firm stroke up the length, he let out a sound that was half-gasp, half-sob, reacting at every touch.

“Behave?” You found his eyes that spoke more than his own mouth. “Of course, love,” you whispered against his skin, your mouth trailing hot kisses down his sternum, leaving a wet trail until you reach his hip.

“Fuck—baby,” he choked out, his breath ragged, making his voice sound rougher. “Make me feel good.”

“Always.”

You moved lower, your lips ghosting over the ripples of his abs, tracing the soft trail of hair that led straight into the waistband of his boxers, discharging them in a slow move. You could feel the muscles in his stomach twitch and contract under your tongue. When you finally reached the tip, you looked up, watching his face through your lashes—the way his glasses were sliding down his nose and his lips were parted in a silent plea.

“Are you going to admit how much you need this?”

“I need it,” he rasped, his hands fisting on nothing. “I fucking need you. I’ve been sitting in that damn restaurant all night just thinking about you in my bed. Fuck—please... just take me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You took his cock into your hand, your thumb swirling over the weeping tip, and then you leaned down, your tongue taking a long, slow lick from the base to the crown.

Junmyeon completely lost it. His hips jerked off, a loud groan leaving his lips. “God, yes! You’re so fucking good at this... and so damn pretty.”

“Am I?” you whispered, before taking him into your mouth, your eyes locked on his.

Junmyeon’s fingers were trembling with the sheer force of the lust. “Fuck yes, doll. So damn gorgeous and mine.”

You pulled out, leaving a trail of saliva, kissing his base, wrapping your fingers around his cock, the heat of his skin searing against your palm. He was thick and pulsing, and the sensation of him jumping under your touch made a low, triumphant hum vibrate in your throat. You started a slow, deliberate rhythm, your hand sliding up to the very crown, squeezing just tight enough to hear him gasp.

“You’re so responsive tonight,” you whispered, looking up at him. “Such a good boy.”

“Y-yes—y’know I am,” he managed to choke out, his hands reaching down to bury themselves in your hair, his fingers tangling deep against your scalp. Junmyeon wasn’t pulling you away; he was anchoring himself, his knuckles white as he fought to stay standing.

That sly smile on your lips couldn’t be hidden even when you bit your lower lip. You leaned in and took his cock into your mouth, the sudden heat and wetness causing his knees to buckle slightly. You swirled your tongue around the ridge, focusing on every sensitive nerve ending until he was swearing—low, filthy words that praised and cursed your name all at once.

“Oh… Jesus. That damn mouth of yours.”

When you slid back out, replacing your mouth with your hand, he let out a frustrated, needy sound. You jerked him off with a relentless, punishing speed, your thumb grinding against the tip while your other hand reached down to squeeze him at the base.

“Fuck... don’t stop, please,” he begged, his hips starting to move in a raw, uncoordinated rhythm, thrusting forward into your palm. “I’m right there... Please—”

“So desperate.” But certainly, every time he begged you, it vibrated directly into your wet, aching cunt.

You dived back down, swallowing his cock again, feeling his tip hitting your throat. You could feel the muscles in his thighs trembling as he lost the battle with his own composure. Junmyeon began to thrust more urgently now, his hips snapping forward against your face as he chased his release.

The lack of air made you pull out, breathless, dripping spit all over your lips. You had him in a vice grip, your palm slick with pre-cum and spit. Every time his hips bucked too hard, you’d slow down, circling his tip with just the very point of your tongue, watching his eyes roll back behind his glasses. Then, before he could catch his breath, you’d plunge back down, taking him so deep your eyes watered, your throat tight and welcoming.

“Fuck—yes!”

The sound coming from Junmyeon was primal—a low, rhythmic growl that vibrated through your skull as his hands tightened in your hair. He was trying so hard to maintain his poise, his thighs corded with tension as he fought to keep his rhythm steady, but you were determined to win.

“Stop fighting it, Junmyeon,” you murmured against his skin, your thumb and forefinger teasing his balls, a slow, heavy knead that made his breath hitch. “Cum for me.”

“Shit,” he gasped, his grip on your hair tightening, his knees were visibly shaking. “God—you’re so fucking good... I’m coming—”

Junmyeon didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t. His body went rigid, his fingers trembling into your hair as he was breathless, broken, and completely yours.

You swirled your tongue around the ridge of his tip with a wet, frantic suction that was too much for him. Junmyeon finally shattered. He let out a loud, choked-off shout, his hands yanking your head closer as he finally came, the force of it sending waves through his entire body.

You didn’t pull away. You kept licking his tip, lips dripping, swallowing his seed, feeling the heavy, rhythmic pulses against your tongue. When you finally stopped, his cum was dripping from your chin, your fingers sticky. Junmyeon looked like he’d just survived a wreck—holding you weakly, chest heaving, his glasses lopsided and his eyes glazed with a look of pure, unadulterated ruin.

His hands were still shaky, but as he regained a shred of his strength, that stubborn, dominant streak flared back up.

He reached out, his thumb catching a drop of himself on your chin, but instead of wiping it away, he smeared it slowly across your lower lip, making you suck his finger completely. Defiant, you kept staring at him as your tongue circled his thumb, knowing full well that deep down, your body was crying out for a little more of him.

“Now it’s my turn to play, doll.” He leaned down, his face inches from yours. He didn’t hesitate; he crashed his mouth onto yours, tasting himself on your tongue, claiming the mess you made.

Junmyeon pulled back just enough to look you in the eye again, his thumb now teasing the corner of your mouth.

You bit his thumb, looking at him boldly, knowing exactly what effect you were having on him. “Is it?”

“You gorgeous brat.” That dangerous, dark smirk returning to his lips. “I’m not done with you.” He reached for your waist, his grip firm and bruising, his eyes darkening as he looked at the curves of your body still partially hidden by your lace underwear. “On all fours.”

Goosebumps traveled your body. The moment your knees hit the mattress, Junmyeon was behind you, his presence a heavy, suffocating heat. He didn’t wait for you to settle; his hands were rough and efficient, hooking into the sides of your lace panties and stripping them down your legs in one fluid, impatient motion, giving you a firm spank that caught you off guard, making you whimper and clench your inner muscles.

“Shit—Junmyeon!”

He let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated against your skin when he saw your state. “Look at that,” he rasped, his large hands coming up to grip your hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks as he pulled them wide. “You’ve been acting like a little saint while you’re absolutely fucking wet for me.”

“Junmyeon,” you sobbed, your head dropping as you braced your forearms against the pillows. “I swear to god, if you don’t stop talking—ah!”

You gasped as he suddenly leaned down, his mouth replacing his gaze. He didn’t ease into it; he buried his face between your flesh, his tongue lashing out to taste the slick, heavy mess in your pussy. The sensation was so sharp, so unexpected, that your thighs trembled and your elbows buckled.

“Fuck—you taste like heaven,” he growled against your skin, his hands shifting to lock around your waist, hauling you back up so you were arched and exposed.

While he made out with your cunt, he slid two fingers deep inside you, scissoring them with a ruthless, rhythmic speed that had you wailing his name into the empty room.

“Junmyeon!” you cried, your back arching as he hit that perfect spot deep inside. “Oh…”

His fingers moved faster; your fluids made the sensation even more pleasurable. “Tell me how it feels. Tell me how much you love being my fucktoy.”

You felt your knees weak, your eyes closed shut tightly, feeling completely exposed and his. “Ah—I love it,” you confessed, your voice a broken, filthy wreck. “I… Fuck—Junmyeon, you feel so good.” The words slipped from your lips without you even thinking about it.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his tongue finding your clit while his fingers stayed buried deep.

Your legs went weak when you heard that pet name. “Junmyeon… please,” you whimpered.

That soft chuckle made you grip the sheets, enough to know that he was playing the same game you had started. “Shit. So damn wet for me. Just for me.”

Junmyeon pulled out his fingers, making you whimper in fear that he would stop, but he didn’t. His mouth sucked so hard and desperately at your folds that the erotic sound coming from his mouth was enough to make your muscles clench, before his fingers were grinding against your clit.

“Oh… fuck. I-I’m so close.” It sounded like a plea in between ragged moans.

“Wanna cum for me, baby?”

“Y-yes!”

His words were enough to push you to the limit, just as he wanted. Your thighs trembled; the sensation you felt was so overwhelming that even his breathing made you shiver. Your whole body was jolted by an electric shock, pushing you to your first orgasm of the night.

Junmyeon didn’t let the silence last. He moved with a focused, predatory intent, shifting his weight behind you until you felt the searing, solid heat of his cock pressing against your entrance.

“Stay still, love,” he commanded in that deep, lower tone, making you breathe in.

Junmyeon shoved himself in, his tip dragging slowly through the slick mess his mouth had helped create. You were so sensitive that even that slight friction made your inner walls twitch in a desperate, involuntary rhythm.

“Oh… fuck,” he breathed, his voice right against your lower back, thick with a dark, satisfied hunger. “You feel so good.”

You couldn’t even form a coherent thought, you gasped, getting used to the sensation. Your hands scrambled forward, your fingers knotting into the sheets, knuckles turning white as you braced yourself. “Junmyeon... please.”

He held your waist with a grip that felt like iron, and he pushed forward. The first movement was agonizingly slow and consuming, his cock stretching you open, filling every empty inch of you. Your breath hitched and stayed stuck in your lungs—a heavy, overwhelming sensation of being completely claimed.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his forehead dropping against your shoulder blade as he buried himself to the hilt. “Every time... you feel fucking incredible.”

You let out a long, broken moan, your head falling to the pillows as you felt the sheer weight of him inside you. “Junmyeon—ah! You’re so deep.”

“I’m gonna be deeper,” he promised, his fingers digging into your hips to steady you. He began a slow, rhythmic pull-out, only to drive back in with a little more force. “You like that?”

“Ah—yes, yes!”

You sobbed his name into the pillow, your body arching as he found the perfect rhythm. The slow, deep thrusts were more torturous than the fast ones, forcing you to feel every ridge, every pulse, and every bit of his cock.

The slow, agonizing rhythm snapped. Junmyeon’s thrusts became harder, more territorial, driving deep into you with a force that made the headboard rattle against the wall.

You let your cheek rest on the mattress, trying to control your breathing, feeling your vision blur with each thrust. “Oh my god…” You felt his palm press against your head, pressing hard, causing your walls to contract once more, quivering in a mixture of desperation and pleasure.

“You like this, don’t you?” he rasped, his voice a jagged growl in your ear as he pulled your hips back to meet every punishing strike. “Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels to be filled like this.”

“Shit—” you sobbed, your head thrashing against the pillow. “You’re... fuck—so good.”

“Yes?” he chuckled, pressing his palm a little harder. “Your little pussy feels like paradise. So made for me.”

“Oh—god,” you moaned, completely breathless. “Just… just go harder.”

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he promised, his breath hitching as he felt your walls clenching desperately around his length.

Junmyeon reached forward, his hands finding the clasp of your bra and flicking it open with practiced ease, tossing the lace aside. As you arched your back, seeking more contact, he hauled you upright. He pulled you flush against his sweating torso, your spine pressed firmly against his hard chest. The contrast of his hot skin against your back sent a fresh jolt of electricity through you.

“Can you hold it back a little, hmm?” His breath made you shiver so much that all you could do was nod helplessly.

One of his hands slid up to your throat, his fingers curling around your neck with a firm, commanding pressure that stole your breath and replaced it with a dizzying, primal heat. His other hand was a frantic, possessive weight on your breasts, kneading and pulling at your nipples as he continued to fuck you from behind with a relentless, driving pace.

“Does it feel good?” he whispered darkly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your shoulder. “Just feel me inside, baby.”

You tried to nod, to answer, but the combination was lethal. The lack of air, the bruising pressure on your neck, and the sensation of him filling you to the hilt while his hand dominated your boobs pushed you straight over the edge. You couldn’t even whine; you could only let out a silent, open-mouthed gasp as your entire body seized, tearing up.

“Jun—ah!”

You hit your climax with a violence that shocked you, your inner walls squeezing him so hard it was almost painful. You were shaking, tearing up, your vision blurring as the pleasure peaked, clenching around him in rhythmic, desperate waves.

“Fuck!” Junmyeon let out a pained, guttural shout, his fingers digging into your neck as he struggled to maintain his own control. Your orgasm was dragging him under, the sheer suction of you making his own release feel like a ticking time bomb. “I’m... coming.”

“Ah! Do it.”

Junmyeon tried to keep his pace, but the way you were sobbing and pulsing around him was the final blow to his composure. He let out a guttural, pained sound—half-groan, half-sob. His cock throbbed inside you, thick and frantic, filling you with a heat that felt like it was reaching your very core.

“Fuck—y-yes, yes!” he whimpered, his forehead dropping against your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged, desperate hitches. He repeated your name like a prayer, a confession of total surrender that stripped away every bit of his own control.

Junmyeon didn’t pull away. He held you in place, his arm still locked around your waist, his hand slowly softening its grip on your neck, keeping your trembling body upright as your muscles began to fail. You felt your whole system shutting down, leaving you limp and heavy in his arms.

The silence that followed was heavy with the scent of sex and the sound of two people trying to remember how to breathe. Neither of you moved for a long time, the only connection being the erratic thud of your hearts and the cooling slick of sweat between your bodies.

You felt Junmyeon pulling out, his weight leaving the bed for a moment as you collapsed softly into the pillows, your limbs feeling like lead. You heard the rustle of tissues and the soft sound of him cleaning you up with a gentle, focused care that felt like a quiet apology for the bruising intensity of minutes before.

Junmyeon didn’t stay away long. He pulled the duvet over both of you, sliding into the clean side of the bed and immediately hauling you back against his chest. His skin was still hot, his heart thudding a slow, steady rhythm against your spine.

“Drink some water.”

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know that he had already left the glass of water and the pills on the nightstand. “I’m tired.”

“Then rest,” he murmured, his voice thick and heavy with sleep and a faint whiff of whiskey. “It was a long day.” He buried his nose deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply. “You smell so good.”

You let out a weak, shaky laugh, your eyes already drifting shut. “I smell like BBQ, sweat, and probably you.”

“No, no,” he grumbled, his grip tightening around your waist as he nuzzled further into your hair. “You smell like... you. And my favorite distraction.”

You couldn’t believe the absurdity of his words, but there he was making you laugh again. “God… you’re so dumb.”

Junmyeon was quiet for a long second, his breathing leveling out, before he spoke again, the words slurring just a fraction. “Did you call me dumb?”

“Junmyeon,” you moved in his arms to face him directly. His glasses were gone, his eyes were barely open, and he looked completely undone. “Are you drunk?”

He let out a huff of a laugh that ended in a tired sigh. “Yes,” he lied, using that as an excuse to lean in and kiss your lips, slowly, sloppy and messily, until his lips formed a slight curve that looked like a smile. “Very drunk.”

“Sure you are.” You smiled, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, the barely touch made him close his eyes. “Well… since you’re so honest right now, tell me. Who’s actually the best on the team?”

“You,” he answered immediately, his voice dropping to a low, rough whisper. “It’s always been you. You’re the only one who actually makes me work for it.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, but you played it off. “Okay, now I know you’re wasted. You’d never say that sober.”

“Mmm... maybe,” Junmyeon murmured, his eyes finally sliding shut for good. He moved even closer, his lips brushing against your neck as his voice trailed off into a barely audible mumble. “But you’re really good. That’s why I really like you. Just... you.”

Your heart did a violent somersault against your ribs. You felt that strange, warm ache in your stomach, the kind that had nothing to do with the sex.

“What?” you whispered, your breath hitching. “What did you say?”

“You. I like… you.”

“Junmyeon…”

But there was no answer. That deep sigh was the only sign that he had fallen fast asleep, leaving you frozen, replaying his words over and over in your mind.

He was just drunk—that’s all it was, you told yourself. But deep down, your heart kept pounding, wondering how much truth there was in his words.

The morning was a blur of caffeine and denial. You were staring into your coffee mug like the answers were written in the foam, standing in the silent break room. You tried, you really tried to convince yourself that it was nothing but a stupid joke.

The clink of the metal spoon against the ceramic mug was the only sound in the room—until it wasn’t.

“You left early.” The familiar voice ghosting near your ear.

You jumped, the spoon clattering loudly as you nearly slopped hot coffee onto your blazer. You didn’t even have to turn around to know it was him.

“Jesus…” you breathed, finally turning to face him, ending up physically trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. “You scared me.”

His lips curved, oblivious to the weight in your chest. “Good morning.” Junmyeon leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips, ready to continue when reality hit you like a truck.  

That’s why I really like you—looping in your brain. The ghost that made you spend the night staring at the ceiling, and getting out of his bed earlier than you expected. 

“Junmyeon—!” The panic filled your soul. You placed your trembling hands on his chest, doing your best to keep a few inches of distance between you. At the end, you were at work. “Someone… could see.” Your eyes darted around the room so quickly, afraid that someone might see you.

“Hey… hey, easy.” Junmyeon cupped your face to help you relax, stroking your cheeks with both thumbs. “There’s no one here. Just you and me.” There was a hint of the man from the night before. It wasn’t his usual competitive glare; it was something quieter, more observant. “Did something happen?”

Great. He didn’t remember. 

“No!” you lied, your voice a pitch too high. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked like you needed sleep.”

“I did,” he admitted, trying to catch your eye—which you were trying to avoid. “But I woke up to a cold bed and a very quiet apartment.”

You gave him a weak, strained smile, focusing intensely on everything but his deep gaze. “Yeah, well, I had to work. Besides... I didn’t wanna keep listening to nonsense.”

Shit. You said it out loud. You took his hands and moved them away from your face, feeling like a fool.

Junmyeon went quiet. He watched you for a beat too long, his eyes tracking the way your fingers were trembling slightly.

“Nonsense?” he asked, his voice dropping to that low, private register that always made your stomach flip. “Do you think that everything I said last night was just the alcohol?”

“Wasn’t it?” you countered, finally meeting his gaze, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. “You were wasted, Junmyeon. You said... you said things that don’t exactly fit our rivalry.”

Junmyeon rested both hands on the kitchen counter; now you seemed even more trapped between his body and the counter. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could smell his cologne. He didn’t look like he was joking. In fact, he looked more serious than ever.

“I might have been wasted, but I wasn’t lying,” he murmured.

“Oh… c’mon. You don’t even remember. Why are you so sure?” you said quickly, clinging to the lie as a shield.

Junmyeon sighed, looking down for a second and then back at you with a genuine, confused furrow in his brow as if he were trying hard not to lose his patience. “I-I remember telling you that you’re the only one on the team who actually keeps me work on it.” He let out a short, dry breath of a laugh. “That’s not nonsense.”

“No, not that,” you said, your voice dropping as you glanced toward the door to make sure no one was coming in for their morning caffeine fix. “I mean... after that. Right before you fell asleep.”

He stopped mid-motion. He looked truly lost, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t... I thought I fell asleep right after we talked about it.”

You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. You shifted your weight, crossing your arms over your chest and looking anywhere but at him. You tried to force a light, mocking laugh, but it came out sounding brittle. You reached up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you couldn’t suppress.

“God… it was so ridiculous,” you said, trying to regain your footing as his rival. “You were practically snoring, and then you mumbled that you ‘really liked me.’ Like... really liked me.” You shook your head, forcing another awkward laugh. “I mean, can you imagine? The whiskey really hit you.”

You waited for him to join in. You waited for the sharp, arrogant retort, for him to call you a liar or tell you that you were hallucinating his affection.

But he didn’t laugh.

Junmyeon didn’t move. He stood there with his hand still on the counter, his expression completely unreadable. The usual spark of competition in his eyes had been replaced by something different.

“Why…” he asked, his voice low and disturbingly calm, “is that so ridiculous to you?”

Instinctively, you managed to get away from him, your smile fading, your heels clicking against the linoleum as you tried to maintain some semblance of a professional gap. The air in the break room was suffocatingly small. Every time he stepped forward, you felt your resolve—and your heartbeat—fracturing.

“Junmyeon, stop,” you hissed, your voice a sharp, panicked whisper as you glanced frantically at the glass door. “We’re in the office. Someone could walk in at any second. You-you’re acting weird. Get it together.”

But Junmyeon didn’t pull back. Instead, he stepped directly into your personal space, forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “Acting weird?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerously steady. “I asked you a question. Why is it so impossible to believe that I like you?”

“Because we’re us!” you whispered back, your hands shaking as you tried to step back, failing completely. “We compete for everything. We... sabotage each other’s meetings. You don’t just... you don’t ‘really like’ your biggest headache, Junmyeon. It was the whiskey. You were drunk, and I was tired, and we… we need to just move on.”

“The whiskey just made it easier to say out loud,” he countered, his gaze dropping to your lips for a split second before snapping back to your eyes. Junmyeon looked frustrated, his usual composure replaced by a raw, stubborn honesty that terrified you. “Do you really think I’d let anyone else talk to me the way you do? Do you think I’d spend my nights with someone I just compete with?”

“Stop it,” you breathed, feeling your back hit the cold surface of the refrigerator. “Someone’s gonna hear you.”

“Let them,” he muttered, though he lowered his voice even further, leaning in until his breath was warm against your forehead. “Maybe I’m too tired to pretend. I said what I said because it’s true. I like the rivalry, but I like you even more. And the fact that you ran away this morning tells me you’re either scared, or… you feel the exact same way.”

“Shut up!” you hissed, your voice trembling. “I’m not—”

“Then stop running!” he challenged, his hand hovering near your waist, not touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t feel anything.”

You opened your mouth to give him a sharp, sarcastic retort, but the words died in your throat. 

“Look…” he breathed, looking up at the ceiling, a piece of furniture, your mug, anywhere, as if he were trying to clear his mind before continuing. “I know.” He finally met your anxious gaze. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I get it.” his head tilted, your foreheads touching as he closed his eyes in a gesture of total surrender. “But… please. Don’t walk away.”

“Junmyeon…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You closed your eyes just like he did, trying to find the strength to step back. “Stop.”

When you felt one of his hands on your waist and his lips on yours, you gasped in surprise. Your rational side was screaming at you to push him away, to shove him off, and to get out of there as soon as possible, but that something inside you completely betrayed you. Your hands clenched into fists in front of his chest, however, your lips moved with the same intensity as his.

“Stop…” you whispered against his lips, feeling a huge lump in your throat. “Please.”

Junmyeon slowly pulled away from your lips as if doing so caused him physical pain. When you met his gaze, he seemed just as vulnerable as he had on those nights you spent together.

“We need to stop,” you finally snapped, your eyes fixed on his chest, incapable of looking directly at his eyes. “For good.”

“What?” He sounded genuinely panicked. “Yeah… yeah. I know. We-we’re in the office, but—”

“No, Junmyeon,” you breathed and swallowed hard. With what remained of your strength, you pushed him away. You needed to get away quickly, before anyone saw you—or worse yet... before he made you change your mind. “Whatever this was… it’s over.” 

“Wait—” His voice came out as a trembling whisper, trying to grab the sleeve of your blazer in an attempt to stop you. “We can talk about it. I told you you don’t have to feel the same. I…” You could feel him clinging to the fabric of your clothes, while you were incapable of even looking at him. “Let’s talk later, yes? Just listen—”

“Junmyeon, please. Don’t do that,” you whispered, looking at his fist gripping your sleeve. “We had fun, yeah. But we both know this isn’t right. I don’t—”

“Then use me,” he blurted out, catching you off guard.

Stunned, your eyes met his again, unable to believe what he’d said. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Yes!” Junmyeon was desperate. He took your hands, begging you to understand what he was about to say. “Listen... I won’t say it again if my feelings make you uncomfortable. But I don’t want this to end. You’re right, we’ve been having fun, and we can keep doing this for as long as we want... as long as you want.” He let out an anxious laugh. “Fuck—I need you. I-I...”

The sound of muffled laughter and footsteps echoed from the hallway, growing louder by the second. The panic in your chest flared, a sharp reminder of where you were. To you, those voices were a lifeline; to him, they were a distraction from the truth he was trying to force you to face.

“Junmyeon, stop. This is insane,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of adrenaline and fear. “Whatever this is, it’s over. It has to be.”

His eyes widened, the raw honesty in them replaced by a flash of genuine hurt. “You don’t mean that. You’re just panicked because—”

“I do mean it,” you cut him off, your words sharp and cold, designed to be a killing blow to the tension between you. “It was a game, and it went too far. Last night was the limit. I can’t do this anymore.”

Junmyeon opened his mouth to argue, his hand moving as if to catch yours, calling your name to keep you grounded in that corner with him. “Sweetheart—”

“No!” you hissed, backing away. “We’re done.”

The door swung open, and two analysts from the marketing team strolled in, mid-conversation about a project. The shift in the room was instantaneous. You smoothed your blazer with shaking hands, schooling your expression into one of professional indifference, while Junmyeon froze.

He didn’t turn around immediately. He stayed facing the refrigerator for a fraction of a second too long, his shoulders tense, his head bowed. When he finally did turn, he looked like always—stiff, cold, and untouchable—but his eyes stayed locked on you, clouded with a silent, devastating realization.

“Good morning!” one of the analysts chirped, heading for the microwave.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice remarkably steady despite the weight in your chest. You didn’t look at Junmyeon again. You didn’t dare to.

You walked out of the break room without looking back. You had to protect your career, your reputation, and your heart. But as you walked down the hall, it felt hollow, and the image of Junmyeon looking defeated in his own domain was the only thing you could see.

“Hey! I was looking for you. I need your help.” Sora appeared out of nowhere to snap you out of your trance, taking you by your cold hand and leading you over to her desk. “Were you in there? Ugh, I bet he was bothering you again, wasn’t he?”

You grimaced, trying to look indifferent. “It’s nothing… just tell me, did you need my help?”

“Oh—yes!”

Every time you walked into the office, and he was there, your facade of professionalism never faltered. But the weight of Junmyeon’s gaze was a physical pressure against your back.

He wasn’t playing the game anymore. He didn’t sabotage your files or tease you in meetings. Instead, he watched you with a quiet, persistent intensity that made your skin crawl with guilt.

By Thursday afternoon, the stress had manifested into a blinding migraine. The fluorescent lights felt like needles behind your eyes, and the hum of the office was a dull roar.

You were slumped at your desk, head in your hands, when you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder.

“Hey,” Hana whispered, her voice laced with concern. She slid a bottle of water and two extra-strength painkillers onto your desk. “You’ve been really tense. What’s going on?”

“There’s something about this report that doesn’t add up.” There was some truth to your words, but you knew that wasn’t the main problem.

“Let me check—uh, Kim sent that? Go ask him,” she suggested the most obvious solution. “Hey, Junmyeon. C’mere!”

“Hana!” you hissed, trying to stop her, but it was too late.

The split second their eyes met was enough to realize that he was completely distracted, as if he’d been lost in his own thoughts.

“Y-yeah.” Junmyeon awkwardly got up from his desk and walked over to yours.

Hana, sensing the awkwardness of the situation, tried to step in, hoping that this would help you solve your problem. “Don’t be a dumbass and help her. I’m watching,” She gestured with her fingers, indicating that she would return to her cubicle but would remain alert.

Junmyeon just nodded in her direction, swallowed hard, and dared to ask: “What happened?”

“Did you check this before sending it to me?” You avoided his gaze at all costs; his eyes remained fixed on your monitor.

“Uh… yes?”

You sighed. “It doesn’t look like it.” Your trembling finger rested on the screen, right where the error seemed to be. “This is last week’s measurement. You didn’t even bother to update it, and you ruined the whole thing,” you said, trying to sound confident enough. “I doubt this week’s figure will still be the same.”

“Shit... I’m sorry. I’ll check it and send it back to you right away,” he apologized, trying not to make the situation worse. “Just give me a minute—”

“Don’t let this happen again, or don’t bother sending it back to me.”

His face seemed blank. Incapable of saying anything else, he just nodded before disappearing back to his desk.

Hana seemed just as surprised by your attitude as Junmyeon, approaching you again warily. “Christ… if you’d said that to me, I probably would’ve run off to the bathroom to cry.” She let out a soft, nervous chuckle. “Sometimes you really scare me.”

A sharp pain came over your chest—perhaps from anxiety, perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps from heartache. “Sorry you had to see that… I-I think I’m just too tired.”

Chanyeol was mid-laugh, telling a story about a botched client meeting, but he stopped when he looked over at Junmyeon. He sat slumped in the corner of a leather booth, his tie loosened and his gaze fixed on the condensation sliding down his glass. Even when he was there, drinking with his friends on Tuesday night, he looked… sad.

“Okay,” Minho said, setting his drink down and leaning forward, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by concern. “You’ve been staring at that ice cube for an hour. What happened? Work?”

“No,” Junmyeon muttered, taking a heavy swallow of whiskey. “Everything is fine.”

“Liar!” Chanyeol chirped, his sharp eyes catching the way Junmyeon’s hand instinctively twitched toward his phone on the table. “You’ve checked your notifications sixteen times. That’s not work, Minho. That’s a girl.”

But Junmyeon didn’t even snap back with his usual quick-witted defense. He just sighed, the sound heavy with defeat.

“Yeah…” Junmyeon said, his voice barely a whisper, thick with the alcohol and the weight of your rejection in the break room. “Whatever it was... she said it was over.”

Minho exchanged a look with Chanyeol. They had never seen Junmyeon like this. Usually, he was the one in control, the one holding all the cards.

“Who is she?” Chanyeol asked, genuinely curious.

“Doesn’t matter,” Junmyeon replied. “I think I lost her because I was too honest when I was drunk.”

As the night went on and the glasses emptied, Junmyeon’s professional wall crumbled completely. He wasn’t his usual self anymore; he was just a man who missed you. Under the table, out of sight of his friends’ eyes, his thumbs were flying across the screen.

Junmyeon didn’t hear them. He was just watching as every message he sent went undelivered—noticing he was blocked in your contact list.

He signaled the waiter for another refill, and then another, downing the amber liquid. He were trying to drown the memory of the way you’d looked at him—that cold, professional mask you’d donned to shut him out.

“Easy there, Champ,” Minho said, reaching out to steady Junmyeon’s glass. “It isn’t going anywhere.”

Junmyeon didn’t even look up. He just shook his head, his hair falling over his forehead in a way that was far too messy, even for him. “Every time I close my eyes,” he muttered, his voice trailing off. “I hear her telling me it was a mistake. God! It’s driving me crazy.”

Chanyeol leaned back, crossed his arms, and watched his friend with a mixture of pity and fascination. “You’ve really met your match, haven’t you? She must be something special to have you unraveling like this.”

“She’s a nightmare,” Junmyeon rambled, his head dropping back against the leather cushion. He started laughing, a dry, bitter sound that made the others go quiet. “She’s the most stubborn, frustrating, brilliant person I’ve ever met. She is… so beautiful. And I... I thought we had something real.”

“So tell her that,” Minho urged. “Call her.”

“I did! I sent a message. She’s ignoring me,” Junmyeon said, gesturing wildly with his phone.

“Ignoring you? Did she block you or…?” Chanyeol raised an eyebrow curiously. When he saw Junmyeon’s reaction, he knew he’d messed up, and Minho gave him a light smack. “Sorry…”

“She’s scared. She thinks if she lets me in, she loses it. But I-I just want to—” He cut himself off, his face flushing a deeper red as the alcohol stripped away his last filter.

“You want to what?” Chanyeol prodded, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I wanna tell her that I’d give up on everything if she’d give me a chance,” Junmyeon confessed, his voice cracking. He looked at his friends, his eyes glazed and vulnerable. “Is that pathetic? God—I feel so pathetic.”

They realized then that this wasn’t just a crush; Junmyeon was genuinely, deeply lost in someone who was his equal in every way.

“You’re not pathetic, man,” Minho said softly, sliding a glass of water toward him. “Well… maybe just a little.”

“He’s right...” Chanyeol added, tapping his glass.

“Aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”

“Okay, okay! That’s not the point. You’re just in over your head. Maybe you need to stop acting like you and start acting like this,” Minho suggested.

Junmyeon stared at the water, then back at his phone. He began typing another message with shaky fingers.

“Did she answer?” Minho asked a minute later.

“No…” Junmyeon let out a short, dry laugh, shaking his head. He took another slow, deliberate sip of his drink. “But I get it. She’s scared,” he whispered, his thumb ghosting over his phone screen again. “She doesn’t realize that I’m not trying to take anything from her. I just wanna be there.”

“You sound like you’re talking about a war, not a relationship,” Chanyeol pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Junmyeon emptied his glass again, the ice clinking loudly in the silence. “It is a war.” He was rambling now, his words slurring just enough to make his friends worry, but he never slipped. “I finally lowered my guard, and she used that moment to walk away. Now I’m just standing... waiting...”

Chanyeol leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he watched Junmyeon’s thumb hover over the phone screen for the hundredth time. “You know…” he started, his voice dropping to a suspicious, low tone. “The way you’re describing this girl—stubborn, sharp, always trying to get one over on you... it almost sounds like… well, y’know...”

Junmyeon’s heart nearly skipped a beat when he heard your name. For a split second, his mask completely shattered, but he covered it with a sudden, sharp burst of laughter that sounded a little too forced.

Minho let out a loud, scoffing laugh, slapping Chanyeol on the back so hard he jolted. “Man, the whiskey has finally rotted your brain. Have you actually seen them together?”

“I’m just saying, the ‘war’ thing fit—” Chanyeol started to defend himself, but Minho cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“They can’t even be in the same elevator,” Minho said, turning back to Junmyeon with a grin. “I saw them in the lobby last week. She looked like she wanted to staple his tie to the wall, and he looked like he was ready to fire her into the sun.”

Junmyeon looked down at his empty glass, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips—because of the irony. He nodded slowly, leaning back into the shadows of the booth to hide the way his eyes softened.

“See?” Minho chimed in, pointing a finger at Chanyeol. “Junmyeon wants someone who’s actually nice to him. Not someone who spends her lunch break figuring out how to sabotage his next presentation.”

“I guess you’re right,” Chanyeol muttered, looking slightly disappointed that his theory had been shot down. “I just thought maybe the hate was covering something else up. It happens in the movies all the time.”

“This isn’t a movie, Yeol,” Junmyeon murmured. “In real life, when someone says it’s over, you’re just left sitting in a bar with two idiots who don’t know when to stop talking.”

“Hey!” Minho shouted, laughing as he signaled for another round.

Junmyeon joined in the laughter, but under the table, his grip on his phone tightened. As he listened to his friends mock the idea of you two ever being together, the weight of the lie—and the silence from your side—felt heavier than the whiskey in his hand.

Chanyeol leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he swirled his drink. “If she’s that incredible, stop being a hoarder and invite her next time. Bring her next Saturday.”

Junmyeon’s expression shifted instantly, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated offense. He looked at Chanyeol as if the man had just suggested he sell his soul for a discount coupon.

“Invite her?” Junmyeon repeated, his voice dropping into a protective, territorial growl. “To meet you? Absolutely not!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Minho asked, feigning hurt while clutching his chest.

“It means you’re both idiots,” Junmyeon snapped, though a small, lopsided smile played on his lips from the alcohol. “She has a very low tolerance for nonsense. You two would spend thirty minutes talking about gym stats and bad puns, and you’d scare my girl away before I even got her to sit down.”

Minho let out a bark of laughter that drew eyes from the other tables. “My girl? Did you hear that, Chanyeol? ‘My girl.’ Oh, you are so down bad—you’re drowning!”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” Junmyeon muttered, his ears turning a bright, tell-tale shade of pink as he tried to hide behind his glass.

“Oh, you meant it exactly like that,” Chanyeol teased, leaning in and poking Junmyeon’s shoulder. “Look at him! He’s pouting because we called him out. Mr. ‘I-Don’t-Do-Emotions’ is over here writing invisible poetry about his girl who’s ‘too good’ for his best friends.”

“She is too good for you two,” Junmyeon defended, though he was failing to keep a straight face.

“What then? Should we bow when she walks in?” Minho continued, relentless now. “Bet she has him on a leash and he loves it.”

“Shut up,” Junmyeon groaned, burying his face in his hands as his friends erupted into a fresh wave of mockery.

“I bet he has a special ringtone for her,” Chanyeol whispered loudly to Minho. “Probably something soft and romantic.”

Junmyeon just sat there; he played the part of the annoyed friend perfectly while his friend laughed at his face, but inside, he just wanted to be with you.

By the time the taxi dropped him off, the cool night air had sharpened his focus, but the whiskey was still humming in his veins, fueling a reckless sort of hope.

Junmyeon didn’t go to his own door. Instead, he found himself standing in the hallway of your common floor, staring at the dark wood of your apartment door. His hand hovered inches from the surface, his knuckles itching to knock. It was far too late.

I shouldn’t, he thought, his heart thumping a heavy rhythm against his ribs. If I wake her up now, I’ll just prove her right.

He stayed there for a long minute, leaning his forehead against the cool frame of your door, whispering a silent apology to the silence on the other side. “Tomorrow,” he breathed. “I’ll make it right tomorrow.”

The walk to his bed seemed to take forever; his head was spinning, and it had nothing to do with alcohol. Junmyeon clumsily grabbed his phone and looked for your chat again. You hadn’t read any messages, of course—he was still blocked.

“It’s me again,” he muttered, tapping the voice message button. “Can we talk… please?” He sent it, but he didn’t seem convinced, so he continued: “Baby… I know I was wrong. I screwed up. But I need you to listen to me. Just this once, I promise. After that… you decide, please.”

Junmyeon threw himself onto the bed, taking off his glasses, exhausted, angry at himself for being such an idiot. He brought his hands to his face, wondering if that was enough, but he didn’t think so.

He rolled over onto his stomach to grab his phone again and sent another voice message:

“I’m such an idiot… I-I know I deserve your anger for not remembering what I said… for not saying it when I was sober, for not telling you to your face. God… I’m going crazy. I miss you, I want you… with me,” he sighed, his breath trembling. “I miss you… I miss you so much,” he whispered. “Don’t hate me, please… okay? I promise I’ll be better next time… if you give me a chance. Just one. Please, baby…”

“Okay, spill it,” Minji said, leaning across the table and ignoring her drink. She had been watching you like a hawk all night. “What’s going on in that head?”

By Friday, the neon lights of the lounge reflected off the cocktail glasses, but the vibrant atmosphere couldn’t quite pierce the fog in your head. Hana was the one who had finally dragged you out, insisting that it was girls’ night, while Sora spent the first twenty minutes of the night trying to find you a match on a dating app just to see you smile.

“It was a rough week, that’s all,” you said, your voice steady but your eyes fixed on your glass.

Sora rolled her eyes, clearly not buying the excuse. “Since when do you get a migraine over that? You usually live for that!”

“And Hana already told us you almost killed Kim Junmyeon yesterday,” Minji added, raising his drink as a sign of approval.

“Uh… it wasn’t like that—”

“It wasn’t?” Hana interrupted you. “Girl, you were this close to breaking his neck.” She gestured the distance with her hands.

“It’d have been funny to see that.” Minji couldn’t help but laugh as she imagined the situation. “Bet he used his free weekend pass today because of that.”

“Agree! But… if this rivalry turned into something personal—or if he said something that actually hurt your feelings—you can tell us,” Sora added.

“He didn’t hurt my feelings,” you snapped, a little too quickly. You caught yourself and took a slow sip of your drink. “I’m just stressed. Can we please talk about something else? Like Sora’s disastrous date?”

The girls took the bait, pivoting to laugh at Sora’s story, but you felt the weight of the lie sitting heavy in your stomach. You felt like a hypocrite. You were sitting with your best friends, pretending everything was normal, while you felt like a fool for thinking that you could just “switch off” your feelings.

The worst part was every time the screen on your phone flashed with a new notification, you felt a sharp, involuntary jolt in your chest. You’d reach for it with a speed that was far from casual, only to find a generic news update or an email. The disappointment that followed was a cold, hollow weight—one you were trying desperately to hide.

When it happened for the third time, you flipped the phone face-down on the velvet table a little too forcefully, remembering that, ever since the talk, you had decided to block him.

Minji didn’t say anything at first. She just watched the phone, then slowly lifted her gaze to yours, her eyes narrowing behind the rim of her glass. She wasn’t laughing along with Sora and Hana anymore.

“You’re waiting for a who,” Minji said quietly, her voice cutting through the ambient noise.

“What?” you asked, trying to sound confused as you reached for a fry you didn’t actually want.

“The phone,” she countered, gesturing to the device. “If it was work, you’d be annoyed. You’d be rolling your eyes and complaining about your inbox. But you’re jumping like a cat every time it vibrates. You’re looking for a name.”

Sora and Hana stopped talking, their attention snapping back to you. “Wait, is there a guy?” Hana gasped, leaning in.

“Is that why you’ve been so weird? Is it someone we know?” Sora joined.

“Girls—!”

“Wait, I bet it’s that guy from the logistics team,” Sora said, her eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint. “The one with the dimples who was helping you with the inventory sheets the other day. What was his name—Yixing! He was totally hovering!”

“Logistics?” Hana chimed in, leaning over the table. “No way, he’s too nerdy. I think it’s that consultant who was here for the audit. Doh Kyungsoo? He had that ‘I’m smart, and I know it’ vibe that usually makes you want to either fight someone or go to dinner with them.”

You let out a genuine, startled laugh, the absurdity of their guesses finally breaking through the heavy fog in your chest. “Yixing? The guy who spent twenty minutes explaining the difference between ‘shipping’ and ‘handling’? No. Definitely not him. And the consultant? No, no, no.”

“Oh, come on! Then who?” Minji teased, though she was smiling now, glad to see the tension leaving your shoulders.

“I am not waiting for any guy,” you said, shaking your head as you took a sip of your drink, the laughter bubbling up again. “You guys are literally inventing a whole story in your heads. It’s not anyone. I’m just... I’m just being high-strung. You know how I get.”

As the three of them went off on an even more ridiculous target—speculating if you were secretly dating a rival from a different firm entirely—you leaned back in the booth, the smile still lingering on your lips.

Inside, however, your mind was reeling. You watched them laugh and felt a wave of bittersweet irony wash over you. If only you knew, you thought, watching Hana act out a dramatic scene of you being “wooed” by a delivery driver.

“You’re so weird tonight,” Sora laughed, nudging your arm. “But it’s good to see you laughing. For a second there, I thought you were actually gonna cry over a spreadsheet.”

“Never,” you promised, clinking your glass against hers. “Spreadsheets are reliable. People are the problem.”

The laughter continued, and for a few hours, you let yourself be “one of the girls” again, hiding the truth behind a mask of shared jokes and absurd theories. You let them believe you were just being dumb for a night, even if the silence of your phone in your pocket felt heavier than ever.

The night went on, and you completely lost track of how many drinks you’d had. Sora was so drunk that she herself suggested ending the night there, so you all agreed. While they called a taxi, you said you’d go to the restroom first.

Sitting in the cubicle, you checked his chat again; your curiosity got the better of you, and you simply unblocked Junmyeon from your contact list. Within seconds, the messages started coming in. Twenty messages from the night before, including three voice messages—the last one nearly seven minutes long.

You giggled as you read them one by one—each one less coherent and later than the last. He’d clearly sent the audios while drunk, falling asleep in the process. In the haze of the alcohol, your pride felt small, invisible, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you hit the call button.

One ring. Two. Three. Your heart was drumming against your ribs.

From the other side of the line, the room was dark, the only light coming from the rhythmic glow of his phone vibrating somewhere deep in the folds of his duvet. Junmyeon groaned, his body feeling like lead after the two-hour run and the day’s emotional exhaustion. He’d fallen asleep with his clothes on after a quick shower, waiting for the sound of your footsteps in the hall—a sound that never came.

Junmyeon fumbled blindly, his fingers brushing against cold pillows until they finally closed around the device. He didn’t even check the caller ID; he just swiped the screen with eyes closed and pressed the phone to his ear, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.

“Hmm—hello?” Junmyeon’s voice came through, thick and rough with sleep.

“Why aren’t you here?” you blurted out, a giddy, reckless laugh bubbling up. “You said you wanted me, but... you aren’t even trying.”

There was a brief, heavy silence on the other end as he processed the voice waking him at 2:14 AM. Then, you heard the rustle of sheets and his voice sharpened, suddenly alert. “You—are you—where are you right now? Are you alone? Have you been drinking?”

“Yeees! Enough to know you’re being boring, Kim,” you teased, stumbling awkwardly within those four narrow walls. “Were you dreaming about me?” you purred and giggled.

“Damn it… stay exactly where you are,” Junmyeon commanded, his voice dropping into that authoritative tone that usually made you want to argue, but now just made you feel safe. “Don’t move. Give me the address. I’m coming to get you.”

“Hmm, no. Maybe I don’t want to be gotten,” you whispered, smiling like a fool at the door.

“Too bad. You called me. Now give me the address. Now.”

“Rude. I liked it.” You giggled, and then whispered the name of the lounge. “I might have only called because I have a secret for you. But maybe you’re too tired to hear it.”

“Tell me. Don’t hang up. I’m on my way,” he said at full speed.

Junmyeon didn’t even look in the mirror. He grabbed a wrinkled hoodie from the chair and his keys, bolting out the door with a desperate energy. The elevator felt like it was moving in slow motion, every second ticking by like a hammer against his skull.

“Hmm, no, no, no. Secrets don’t work like that!” A new notification suddenly popped up on your phone, warning that the battery was running low. “Shit. My phone’s about to die.”

Junmyeon threw himself into the driver’s seat. He peeled out of the garage, the tires screeching against the concrete as he fishtailed onto the main road. “Wait! Don’t—”

“See you later! Bye!” You hung up before he could say another word.

When you stepped back toward the street, looking for your friends, your expression had completely shifted. The haunted look was gone, replaced by a soft, secretive glow that you couldn’t suppress.

Minji was the first to notice. She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she looked at your face. Sora and Hana followed her gaze, their intoxicated confusion momentarily replaced by sharp curiosity.

“Oh—who was that?” Minji asked, her voice suspiciously sober for someone who’d had four mojitos.

“My uber. Just a friend,” you lied, though the curve of your lips betrayed you. “He’s... he’s in the neighborhood. He’s going to make sure I get home safe. You guys go ahead in the taxi.”

“A friend?” Hana squealed, clutching your arm. “At 2:00 AM? You are so busted! Who is that friend, huh?”

“Go on, get in the car!” you laughed, gently pushing them toward the yellow taxi that had just pulled up.

“Oh, no, no!” the three of them stopped you immediately. Even in the condition they were in, they wouldn’t just leave you alone there.

“I swear he’s already here! Just go!”

“No way!” Hana protested, grabbing your sleeve. “We are not leaving you on a dark street corner at 2:00 AM waiting for some mystery guy. We’re staying until we see the car!”

“I know him! It’s very safe!” you laughed, trying to gently shove them toward the taxi that was idling at the curb. “I’m a grown woman; I can handle a ride home. Plus, if you stay, you’ll just embarrass me by trying to interview him.”

“We will interview him,” Sora chirped, giggling. “I wanna know if he has a five-star rating.”

“Go!” you hissed, half-laughing and half-panicking as you saw a pair of headlights turning the corner—a car that definitely didn’t have an uber sticker in the window.

Minji looked from you to the approaching car, then back to your flushed, desperate face. A look of knowing dawned on her—she didn’t know who it was, but she knew you were far from being in danger. She finally sighed, grabbing the other two by their coats.

“Fine! But you are telling us everything on Monday,” Minji warned, pulling the protesting Sora and Hana closer to the taxi. “If you don’t text the group chat in twenty minutes, I’m calling the police and your mother!”

“Okay! Bye! See you Monday!” you shouted over your shoulder, already moving.

The plan to sneak away clearly failed spectacularly. Even with their taxi waiting, Minji, Sora, and Hana stayed planted on the sidewalk like a wall of stubborn, tipsy witnesses.

When the sleek black car pulled up and the engine cut, you didn’t even wait for the door to fully open.

Junmyeon stepped out of the car, looking worlds away in his casual hoodie, his face tight with genuine worry. He barely had time to scan the scene for trouble before you were a blur of motion, running toward him and throwing your arms around his torso with a force that nearly knocked him back against the car door.

“What—Are you okay? God, you’re freezing,” he muttered, his hands instinctively unzipping his hoodie and draping it over your shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep you safe, holding you closer. He immediately went into lecture mode, his voice stern but laced with relief. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out this late? You’re barely standing. Why didn’t you call me early? Why would you—”

“You’re not wearing them,” you whined, cutting him off as you pulled back just enough to frame his face with your hands. You began inspecting every inch of him, your fingers brushing over his cheekbones. “Where are your glasses, Junmyeon? I like the glasses.”

He blinked, completely thrown by your sudden change in tone. “I-I was sleeping,” he rasped, his voice softening as he realized exactly how much you’d had drank. He cupped your pouty face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “Why didn’t you call me earlier? Why did you let it get this late?”

“I just remember I had to tell a secret,” you whispered, leaning into his touch, your eyes half-closed.

“A secret,” he repeated softly. He leaned down, his heart beating fast against your chest. “Okay. I’m here. Tell me.”

You hugged him again, tighter this time, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You stood on your tiptoes, your lips brushing against his ear as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I like you,” you breathed, the confession finally out in the open.

You felt him go rigid for a heartbeat, his breath hitching in his throat. “What?” Junmyeon pulled back just an inch, his eyes wide and searching yours with a look of pure, disbelieving vulnerability. “What did you say…” he whispered, his voice thick and wavering.

“You heard me,” Your voice was small, the alcohol-induced bravery beginning to mix with a raw, honest heat. “God! It’s... it’s so annoying, but I do.”

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice cracking with a vulnerability you’d never seen. “Please... say it one more time.”

“I like you,” you repeated, your voice a little shaky but certain. “I really, really like you, Junmyeon—don’t look at me like that!”

In Junmyeon’s eyes, you were the most gorgeous person he had ever met. His heart was beating at full speed, feeling like he was still dreaming. He leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss that was soft, sweet, and full of the relief he’d been craving.

He was smiling into the kiss, noticing he wasn’t dreaming anymore. When he pulled back to breathe, you were the one who leaned in again—and again, and again, wrapping your arms around his neck, while he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You’re so warm,” you giggled, peppering his jaw with tiny, messy kisses. “And I see you’re not mad anymore.”

“I wasn’t mad; I was worried,” he confessed, his forehead resting against yours. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry for acting like that…” you murmured softly before giving him quick kisses against his lips as an apology. “I’m sorry, Junmyeon.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding on his chest, embarrassed.

Junmyeon kissed your temple softly. “It’s okay, love. Everything’s fine. I’m here, you’re here.” He took a breath, smiling. As soon as he glanced at the situation over your shoulder, his expression shifted—his smile turned a bit more mischievous. “I hate to ruin this perfect moment, truly... but I think your friends are currently questioning their entire reality.”

The fog in your brain cleared for a split second. You turned your head and saw Minji, Sora, and Hana still standing by the taxi, their mouths hanging open. They looked like they had just seen a ghost—or worse, their best friend making out with the man she’d hated.  

“Oh my god…” You gasped, your cheeks turning a violent shade of red. You let out a small whine of pure embarrassment and smacked Junmyeon’s chest. “Why didn’t you tell me they were still there!”

You tried to bury your face in his chest, but Junmyeon just laughed, a deep, victorious sound that echoed down the street. He didn’t look embarrassed at all; if anything, he looked proud. He kept one arm firmly around your waist and used his free hand to give the girls a polite wave.

“Do you ladies need a ride?” he called out, his voice smooth and perfectly composed. “The taxi seems to be waiting.”

Sora blinked rapidly, looking at Hana, who looked at Minji. They looked like they were trying to decide if the cocktails had been laced with hallucinogens. Without a single word, they scrambled into the back of their taxi with the speed of people fleeing a crime scene. Minji gave you one final, wide-eyed “we are talking about this” look before the door slammed shut and the car sped away.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you groaned into his chest, though you were smiling. “They saw everything! They’re never gonna let me live this down!”

“Let them talk,” Junmyeon said softly, smiling, hiding you in a warm hug.

The morning sun filtered through the cracks of the blinds, casting a soft, golden glow across the bedroom.

When your eyes flickered open, the first thing you registered was the steady, rhythmic rise and fall beneath your cheek. You were completely buried against Junmyeon’s bare chest, the skin-to-skin contact sending an immediate rush of warmth straight to your toes.

For a second, it was just peaceful. And then, the memories of last night hit you like a high-speed train.

Your cheeks instantly burned. A wave of pure, unadulterated embarrassment crashed over you. Desperate to escape reality, you scrambled backward and threw the duvet and sheets completely over your head.

Unfortunately, your sudden, frantic rustling of the blankets completely broke the morning quiet.

Beside you, a low, gravelly morning rumble vibrated through the mattress. Junmyeon stirred, shifting as the blankets were yanked away from him. When you peeked through a tiny gap in the sheets, you saw him blinking sleepily, his dark hair a messy, adorable halo around his face. But the moment his eyes adjusted to the room, a soft, incredibly warm smile broke across his face. He didn’t look annoyed at all; he looked completely enchanted.

As you tried to shrink further into the mattress, you suddenly noticed what you were wearing. It was a dark, oversized t-shirt—the exact same one Junmyeon had been wearing last night. Your mind went entirely blank. The absolute lack of memory only made your face burn hotter.

“Good morning, love,” Junmyeon murmured, his voice thick and deep with sleep. He shifted closer, reaching out a long arm to gently tug at the edge of the duvet you were hoarding. “Hiding from me this early?”

Panicking, you immediately closed your eyes tight, freezing your muscles and trying to force your breathing into a slow, rhythmic pattern.

A soft, amused chuckle echoed from beside you. Junmyeon didn’t buy it for a single second.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his hand resting gently on your hip over the fabric of his shirt. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against the outside of your blanket cocoon. “You’re a brilliant marketing strategist, but you’re a terrible actress.”

You held your breath, refusing to move, determined to commit to the bit even as your heart hammered wildly against your ribs.

“Still asleep, huh?” Junmyeon teased, his voice humming with affection. “That’s a shame. I guess I’ll just have to wait here—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Junmyeon reached over, his arm stretching out from under the covers to grab the device. He unlocked the screen, his eyes scanning the display as a look of pure, mischievous delight washed over his face.

“Oh… look at that,” he murmured, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “It’s your friends. They’re demanding to know if you survived the night.”

You froze beneath your blanket cocoon, your eyes flying open in sheer horror.

“They seem really worried,” Junmyeon continued, his thumb hovering over the screen. “As a responsible ally. I’ll just reply for you. Let’s see... ‘Morning girls, I’m completely fine and with my handsome boy—’”

“No! Don’t you dare!”

Panic completely overrode your embarrassment. You burst out of your duvet cocoon like a rocket, lunging across the mattress to snatch the device out of his hand. But Junmyeon, already shifted and sat up against the headboard, was entirely prepared for your counter-attack. He smirked and lifted his arm high in the air, keeping the screen far out of your reach.

In your sheer panic to stop him from typing, you lunged forward, your knees sliding across the tangled sheets until you climbed right over him, ending up sitting squarely on his lap. The sudden shift in gravity brought you face-to-face, your chests nearly pressing together.

Junmyeon’s arms instinctively came up to steady you, his hands resting securely on your waist to make sure you didn’t lose your balance and slide off. His eyes darkened with a sudden, intense warmth, tracking the flush that crept from your cheeks all the way down your neck. With a soft, surrendered chuckle, he lowered his high arm and placed the phone right into your hand.

You blinked, looking down at the screen, only to realize it was just his homescreen. No group chat. No texts.

“You...” you gasped, your fingers tightening around the device before leaving it aside. “This isn’t even my phone!”

“Tactical strategy, love,” he countered softly, his thumbs lazily tracing small circles against your waist, anchoring you to his lap.

You groaned, entirely defeated. With nowhere left to hide, you simply let your posture collapse forward, dropping your forehead against his bare shoulder and burying your face in his neck. “Ugh… I hate you. I actually hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t,” Junmyeon whispered, enjoying every second.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him as he sat there, holding you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. He leaned his head sideways, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your burning cheek, then another to the crown of your head, before his fingers gently guided your chin up to meet his lips. The kiss was slow, warm, and filled with a deep, quiet relief that made your heart skip a beat.

When he finally pulled back, still holding you tightly, Junmyeon was looking at you with a smile so bright and genuinely joyful that all your panic completely melted away. “So,” he murmured, “you remember what happened last night.”

“Of course,” you mumbled, a helpless smile finally breaking through as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “What kind of person would I be if I didn’t remember?” You gave him a quick kiss that made him smile.

“Y’know,” he whispered. “Last night, before you called me, I really thought I’d ruined everything.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him. “You really thought I wouldn’t call?”

Junmyeon nodded, a little bit embarrassed. “I thought I’d pushed you too far,” he admitted, his expression softening into something raw. “I was ready to come to your door again and stay there until you either talked to me or called security.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, hiding your face in his neck. “I’d have probably called security.”

“Sounds like you,” he chuckled, his arm tightening around your waist. “But then you called. When I heard your voice, I just needed to make sure you were okay. I needed to see you.”

“I missed you,” you confessed; the words slipped out of your mouth without you even thinking about it.

The immense happiness was reflected on his face. Junmyeon sighed, a long, contented sound that felt like he was finally letting go of a heavy weight. His arms wrapped around you more tightly, until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between you. “I missed you too, gorgeous.”

“You’re gonna suffocate me,” you teased, trying not to laugh. “Kim… let me breathe!”

“Never!” he protested, kissing your temple. “I can’t let you go after you stole my favorite shirt.”

“I stole it?” you asked, raising your voice in surprise—enough to make your cheeks flush again. You looked at him with genuine shock, getting caught with your lack of memories.

“You don’t remember?”

Junmyeon froze for a split second, a low, rumbling chuckle starting deep in his chest. It quickly turned into a full-blown laugh, and he hid his face in your neck, his broad shoulders shaking while you glared at him, your embarrassment skyrocketing by the second.

“What?” you demanded, smacking his bare arm softly. “What did I do, Kim? Tell me!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, finally lifting his head so he could look down at your flushed face.

“So, last night, after we got here, I got you onto the bed to get you some water. But you were completely compromised by whatever you drank. You sat up, looked at me, and decided you wanted to be... very close to me. Like, zero space between us.”

Your eyes widened as a horrible realization began to dawn on you.

“You started taking your own clothes off,” Junmyeon confessed, a completely fond, helpless smirk on his lips. “You were actively discarding the hoodie, your skirt, your blouse, trying to drag me down with you. And as much as I am completely, utterly helpless around you, I am not a monster. I refused to do anything that you wouldn’t fully remember the next morning. So I tried to stop you.”

“Oh my god…” you whispered, pulling the sheets all the way up to your nose, wanting the mattress to open up and swallow you whole.

“But you,” Junmyeon continued, his thumb reaching out to gently tug the sheets down so he could see your burning cheeks, “are a fiercely stubborn woman when you want something. Since I wouldn’t let you take your clothes off, you decided to take mine off instead. You literally grabbed my shirt and yanked it right over my head.”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with your hands.

“I didn’t even fight you on it,” he chuckled softly, his voice dropping into that warm, velvet register. “But since you were sitting there in just your underwear, shivering but refusing to admit it, I took my shirt and slid it right over your head to keep you warm. And the funniest part? You didn’t even protest. You looked up at me with these big, sleepy eyes, and mumbled that it was yours now.”

Junmyeon’s gaze softened into pure, unadulterated adoration as he looked at you now, his hand sliding to rest securely on your waist.

“You wrapped your arms around me like a koala and wouldn’t let go,” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your chin. “You insisted that you wanted me closer, so when I hugged you, you slept like a baby the entire night.” He smiled, his face inches from yours, enjoying your utterly flustered state. “I didn’t know you could be so needy, love. I loved it.”

You stared at him from behind your hands, your fingers peeking open just enough to see the absolute warmth radiating from his eyes. “I am never, ever drinking tequila again,” you whimpered, your voice muffled. “My reputation is entirely ruined.”

His fingers found your hands just to intertwine them with his, giving you a small peck. “Fuck that,” he whispered. “I just care about you. Tequila or sober, bratty or needy—I want all of it. Every single version of you.”

“Ugh… you’re too romantic for your own good, Kim,” you whispered, a soft, genuine smile breaking across your lips.

“Anything for my girlfriend.” He kissed your knuckles.

Girlfriend.

A massive, overwhelming wave of pure happiness rushed through your chest, so intense it almost made you dizzy—but right on its heels came that stubborn, defensive instinct. You narrowed your eyes, instantly shifting into a full, sulky brat mode. You deliberately crossed your arms, puffing out your chest and leaning back just enough to look down at him.

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, your voice dripping with artificial disdain as you pouted. “Who said I am your girlfriend, Kim?”

Junmyeon didn’t look offended at all. In fact, his smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He absolutely adored it when you got like this. The fiery, sharp-tongued attitude that usually terrified the marketing department was, to him, the most endearing thing in the world. He loved the challenge of you, the way you refused to just bend to his will.

“Oh? Let me see if I can persuade you,” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, dangerously register.

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a daring, deliberate smirk. “Oh, really?” you teased, your voice a playful, sultry challenge. “And how exactly do you plan on convincing me, Kim? Because I’m a very tough negotiator, and so far, your arguments are entirely lacking in—”

You didn’t even get to finish the word.

With a sudden burst of energy, Junmyeon gripped your waist and flipped your positions in one smooth, practiced motion. Before you could even gasp, you were flat on your back against the mattress, and Junmyeon was hovering directly over you, trapping your body beneath his.

“Junmyeon!” you gasped, your sulky facade instantly cracking into a giggle from pure surprise.

“I have plenty of arguments,” he whispered against your skin, smirking.

His fingers slid beneath the fabric of his oversized t-shirt, tracing the sensitive curve of your waist, moving higher, then lower, his palms warm and demanding against your soft skin. He knew exactly where you were ticklish, and exactly how to make you lose your breath. You found yourself half-laughing, half-whining, wriggling beneath him in a useless attempt to escape the delicious torment of his touch.

“Jun—Junmyeon, stop! That’s cheating!” you gasped out between giggles, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he leaned down and began kissing you messily—pecking your burning cheeks, your jawline, the sensitive skin of your neck, and finally smothering your laughter with a deep, chaotic, breathless kiss on your lips.

Any lingering desire to fight him completely vanished. Your arms instinctively reached up to wrap tightly around his neck, pulling him down until his weight was completely crushing you into the soft mattress.

Junmyeon slowly pulled back just an inch, his chest heaving, looking down into your eyes. “I want to do this right,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.

You could sense he was nervous, trying to find the right words. “Last night, when I heard you, my entire world clicked into place. I’ve spent the last year pretending that arguing with you was just about work, but the truth is, I was just… desperate for your attention,” he admitted. “You’re the only person who truly sees me. You challenge me, you ground me, you… you even bother me! But that makes me happy. Really happy.” He smiled, looking at you.

His honesty was reflected in his eyes; it seemed as if he were pouring his heart out in the sincerest way. You couldn’t deny that it made your heart flutter. You smiled, stroking his cheek gently, letting him continue.

“I want my life to keep feeling that way. With you.”

“Junmyeon…”

“Will you do me the absolute honor of being my girlfriend?”

You looked up at him, your chest aching with a love so profound it felt completely overwhelming. The playful, sulky brat from a moment ago was completely gone, replaced by a radiant, breathless smile that you couldn’t have hidden if you tried.

You wrapped your arms securely around his neck to pull him down and gave him a peck. “Yes,” you whispered against his lips, your heart hammering happily. “A thousand times, yes, Kim.”

Junmyeon let out a soft, shaky breath of pure relief and closed the distance, burying his smile in a slow, deep kiss that felt like a quiet vow between the two of you.

“But don’t you ever think I’d let you win this month!” you warned as soon as you pulled away from his lips. “That free weekend is mine!”

He chuckled softly, certainly loving that ridiculous rivalry you two had. “I am winning, love. By 5 sales, actually.” He announced with that smirk he showed just when he’s literally over you on the list, trying to end the discussion with another kiss.

“You cheated again!” you fought back, biting his lower lip hard enough to make him growl.

“Hey!” But he wasn’t mad at all; Junmyeon was the happiest man alive, and he really showed it. “You’ll pay for it.”

He leaned down and captured your lips again, effectively cutting you off from your next complaint. His hands explored your skin, leaving your panties aside in a quick move, making you both giggle as your fingertips slid across his back.

“I’m counting on it, Kim.”

a/note: if you've made it this far, let me thank you for taking the time to read this and for loving ewb as much as i do. for various reasons, i was feeling pretty unmotivated and i even thought that the first part would be my last fic for a long time, but receiving such lovely comments really lifted my spirits and motivated me to write again. truly, thank you so much. i love you all <3

You were still drained from last night and whatever reckless truce that happened.

The mattress shifted as Junmyeon moved, his heavy arm finally lifting from your waist. He didn’t bother being gentle as he untucked the covers, leaving your naked body exposed to the morning chill. You let out a frustrated whine at his sheer lack of manners.

“You’re remarkably annoying this morning,” you muttered into your pillow, your voice muffled, as you tried to tuck yourself into the sheets. “It’s dark outside, c’mon!”

Junmyeon let out a low, mocking laugh. Of course, he did it on purpose. “You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice grating on your nerves. You heard the metallic slide of a zipper as he stepped into his jeans. “Sunrises are inspiring, y’know?”

“Get out!” Tired of him and his effortless energy, you bolted upright, grabbed the decorative pillow beside you, and hurled it with every bit of strength you had left. Junmyeon leaned to the left, letting it thud harmlessly against the doorframe.

“Better luck next time,” he threw back, his laugh raspy and entirely too triumphant. “See you later, loser!” He was already halfway out the door.

Frustrated, you tried to make yourself sleep again, but when you were about to fall asleep, the distinct shut of the main door echoed through your quiet apartment. He was finally gone, heading back to his own place, which happened to be right next door.

The rivalry between you and Junmyeon was built in your first week; the air in the office seemed to sharpen whenever you both occupied the same room. You didn’t just disagree on everything; you two were capable of sabotaging each other if that meant the end of the other’s ego.

If you hit your sales goals, he tripled his. If he delivered a flawless presentation, you spent the next three hours perfecting a rebuttal that made his data look like a rough draft. You were both relentless, stubborn, fueled by a mutual, unspoken agreement that there was only room for one of you at the top. The “Seller of the Month” wasn’t just a prize anymore; it was the ultimate proof of superiority, and you’d rather work yourself to the bone than let him win.

The office had grown used to that tension between you. They joked about your rivalry, and saw the way you rolled your eyes when he spoke, and the way his jaw tightened whenever you took the lead in a meeting. They called it a personality clash, seeing it as an actual show.

Then came that team dinner.

The atmosphere was loud and celebratory, but you and Junmyeon were locked in your own private war. Both drunk, at the end of the table, arguing over a lead he’d clearly stolen from you.

The tension followed you on the shared taxi all the way home, finally boiling over as the elevator doors slid shut. You were barking at him, your face inches from him, fueled by months of suppressed adrenaline, ready to tear him apart—your finger poking into the fabric of his chest.

Junmyeon was tense. He didn’t argue back, at least, not with words. He moved closer, one hand slamming into the metal wall, the other one sliding down to grip your waist with bruising force. His mouth crashed onto yours to silence you. It was a collision. Stunned, you tasted his rage, but didn’t stop him. You pulled him into your space with a violence that surprised you both, your nails clawing through his shirt, searching for skin to punish.

By the time the doors opened to his—and your—floor, the war transitioned into something deeper. You two stumbled into his apartment, mouths still locked in a battle for dominance, trying to rip each other's clothes off.

The drinks had blinded you, blurring the hatred into a raw heat. Junmyeon backed you onto the bed, his movements jagged and demanding. He didn’t have to ask; your eyes said everything. You watched him drop between your legs, his eyes dark with hunger as he stripped away the last of your defenses.

When his mouth finally made contact with your soft skin, it was electric. He clearly knew what he was doing, tracing the sensitive lines of your inner thighs before focusing entirely on your pussy with a relentless hunger. Junmyeon was eating you out like he had been starving for months, his fingers hooked into your hips to hold you still while he drank you in.

“Shit—Junmyeon!”

Your fingers pulled his hair enough to make him moan against your folds. The sounds of wetness and his ragged, hot breath were so erotic that your legs were already shaking. He pushed harder, swirling his tongue in rhythmic circles until you were sobbing his name again, and again.

“Fuck…” he groaned. “You taste so fucking good.”

Junmyeon was winning. He knew it. You knew it, too. And yes, he wanted to be the only thing you could feel, the only thing you remembered as long as your inner thighs clamped his face, and your inner walls clenched at anything, already trembling against his mouth, knowing he was making you have the best orgasm in a long time.

But you weren’t finished. As soon as he tasted the last drop and hovered over you, your mouth crashed against his with possessive strength. When he finally sank into you, the sensation was overwhelming. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to force him to stop being gentle. Of course, he got your silent beg and fucked you like your body had been made specifically for him. Each trust was a claim, each movement a silent way to call you his.

You traded bites on the shoulders and neck. You scratched down his back, your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched up to meet him, like you were competing to see who would break first. Every time he hit that perfect, sweet spot, he’d let out a growl against the crook of your neck, and you’d respond by pulling him deeper, refusing to let him have the final word.

When the end finally came, it was a mutual destruction. Junmyeon collapsed over you, his skin slick with sweat and his breathing ragged, his weight pinning you to the mattress. You weren’t any better, your fingers trembling, debating whether to hold him or not. But... both of you refused to really move.

“T-this was a mistake, Kim,” you breathed, breaking the ice, your voice a shaky whisper.

Junmyeon shifted, his jaw tightening as he looked down at you, his eyes still dark and unhinged. “The worst one of my life.”

However, his hand was already sliding back down to your hip, his thumb tracing the jagged mark he’d left there. Of course, you did fuck again that night, and the next days after... and the next weeks, like hooking up and hating each other were part of a balance.

You walked into the office with your jaw set and your stomach growling, the lack of breakfast making your temper a live wire. The moment you rounded the corner, you saw him.

Junmyeon was leaning against the edge of your desk, looking infuriatingly composed in a charcoal three-piece suit that hugged his shoulders perfectly. The silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose were a direct insult to your exhaustion—he looked stupidly, effortlessly attractive for 9 AM, especially for a man who had spent the night losing his mind in your sheets.

“You’re a minute late,” he noted, checking his watch with a slow, deliberate movement. A small, mocking smirk played on his lips. “Having trouble getting out of bed this morning?”

“Move,” you snapped, dropping your purse onto your chair with a heavy thug, “if you don’t wanna die today.”

Junmyeon let out a soft, raspy laugh. “Rude.”

“Get off my desk,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. “Go hover over somewhere else and let me work.”

“Easy, easy. I was just making sure you hadn’t fainted from exhaustion,” he whispered, leaning in just enough for you to catch his scent. “You seemed quite drained.”

“In your dreams,” you hissed, your eyes flashing. “Now get out before I report you for being a pain in the ass.”

Junmyeon straightened up, adjusting his cuffs with a smug, triumphant look. “See you at the briefing. Try to keep up.”

He could be incredibly annoying for no reason, and the urge to punch his perfect features was clear now, but he escaped before you could do anything.

And just like that, the rest of the morning was a blur of spreadsheets and mounting irritation.

“Hey, Junmyeon,” Chanyeol said, pointing toward his own neck. “You okay? You’ve got a couple of marks right there.”

You froze. Your hand was hovering over the print button, almost crumpling the documents in your other hand, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Junmyeon didn’t even flinch. He reached up, casually adjusting his tie, his expression the picture of bored indifference. “Oh, those? Just a mosquito. A very aggressive one. I think it got into my apartment last night and wouldn’t let me sleep.”

“A mosquito?” Chanyeol asked, skeptical. “That looks more like—”

“Yeah,” Junmyeon interrupted, his voice flat and professional, though you caught the way his eyes darted toward you for a fraction of a second. “Anyway, about those quarterly projections…”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek. The mental image of Junmyeon growling into your ear while you sank your teeth into his neck was a vivid memory from last night. You kept your back to them, staring intently at the printer tray, trying to erase it from your mind.

Later that day, the only thing more hollow than your stomach was your patience. You marched into the break room, desperate for a caffeine fix to dampen the hunger pangs, only to find the source of your misery already there.

Junmyeon was standing by the counter, leaning over his mug with an air of smug tranquility. Just as he reached out to lift the steaming cup to his lips, you swiped it from under his hand with a fluid, practiced motion.

“Hey!” he protested, his hand clutching at empty air as he turned a sharp glare toward you. “That’s mine. Get your own.”

“Consider it a tax,” you snapped, taking a long, defiant sip while looking him dead in the eye. “It’s entirely your fault I haven’t eaten a single thing today.”

Junmyeon let out a low, raspy chuckle, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. The movement made the charcoal fabric of his suit jacket pull tight across his chest. “Are you really this worked up over a yogurt? It was a strawberry. You don’t even like strawberries that much.”

“It was my strawberry yogurt, you thief,” you hissed. “And you knew exactly what you were doing when you cleared it out of my fridge.”

“I was hungry,” he said simply, a playful glint in his eyes that made you want to kick him. “Besides, you’re much more interesting when you’re hangry.”

You reached past him, your hand diving into his open lunch bag on the counter. Before he could react, you snatched the last thick slice of crusty bread he’d tucked away. “Then I’m taking this.”

“Hey! That’s mine!”

You stood your ground, the stolen bread in one hand and his coffee in the other, feeling the familiar adrenaline that only he could provoke.

“That’s mine now,” you muttered, already backing toward the door.

“C’mere!” he retorted, his voice dropping into that dangerous, low register. “I don’t wanna repeat it again.”

You stopped at the threshold, a slow, predatory smile spreading across your face. You let your gaze drift pointedly to his neck, where the collar of his expensive shirt was still struggling to do its job.

“Junmyeon,” your voice dripping with sweet, faux-concern. “Maybe you should spend your lunch break hiding those ‘mosquito bites’. That’s a lack of professionalism, y’know?”

His smug expression didn’t just fade—it fractured to the point you thought his glasses had broken. For a split second, the composed version of him vanished.

Junmyeon opened his mouth to fire back—likely to remind you exactly who had left those marks—but the words died in his throat. He watched you stand there, defiantly chewing on his sourdough and holding his coffee like a trophy, and for once, he had no arguments.

You saw his jaw work, his eyes dark with a mixture of sheer annoyance and a kind of heat. Junmyeon looked genuinely surprised that you’d had the nerve to weaponize his own lie against him.

“Just… get out,” he finally muttered. He only had the heavy, frustrated weight of a man who knew he’d just been played at his own game.

“My pleasure,” you hummed, a purr of pure satisfaction.

You sauntered out of the break room without looking back, but you could practically feel his gaze burning holes into the back of your neck. He wouldn’t follow you, and he certainly wouldn’t admit to anyone that you were the reason for his sudden silence. Junmyeon was too proud to let the office know that his rival had just walked off with his breakfast, his caffeine, and his dignity all in one go.

As you rounded the corner back to your desk, the coffee tasted better than anything you’d ever bought yourself. You knew this victory was temporary—he’d likely spend the rest of the afternoon plotting a way to make you pay for the sourdough—but for now, the silence coming from the break room was the sweetest sound in the building.

“It was a record-breaking month,” the manager’s voice boomed in the sudden silence. “But as always, one person pushed just a little bit harder.”

Friday afternoon arrived. The stress was a living thing, fueled by the fact that the “Seller of the Month” announcement was a minute aside. Neither of you mentioned what happened again, but the way he watched you from across the meeting room told you he hadn’t forgotten the humiliation in the break room.

At the center of the room, your manager held the cream-colored envelope—the voucher for the weekend getaway.

You stood on the left, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your expression a mask of cold, professional indifference. Across the carpet, Junmyeon stood like a statue. He looked impeccable in a navy suit, his glasses catching the overhead light, but you noticed the way his fingers twitched against his thigh.

You felt Junmyeon’s gaze cut toward you. It was a silent prepare to lose. You tilted your chin up, your eyes promising him a slow, public demise.

“By a margin of only two sales.” The silence was deafening. “Kim Junmyeon is the new winner."

The room erupted into applause. Junmyeon didn’t jump for joy; he smiled with confidence, stepping forward, and took the envelope. He shook the manager’s hand, thanked the team, and then turned his head just enough to catch your eye.

The look he gave you was the look of a man who had not only won the war but was now deciding exactly how to punish his prisoner.

“Congratulations, Junmyeon,” you said, your voice dripping with a fake, honeyed warmth that you knew he absolutely loathed. You stepped forward, extending a hand. “Nobody deserves a break from all that strenuous effort quite like you do.”

Junmyeon took your hand, squeezing. He leaned in as if to give you a professional, friendly pat on the shoulder, but his hand landed on the back of your neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“Better luck next time, sweetheart,” he murmured, loud enough for only you to hear. “Maybe it’ll inspire you to actually hit your targets for once.”

“Aw, so arrogant.” Your smile never wavered as you leaned into his space, your lips almost brushing his cheek in what looked like a congratulatory gesture. “Don’t worry. I’ll be too busy taking over the accounts you’re neglecting.”

You moved first. Your coworkers swarmed in, effectively diffusing the lethal air between you and Junmyeon with their oblivious enthusiasm.

“Nice work, Junmyeon! That coast trip is gonna be worth it!” Chanyeol shouted, slapping him on the back with enough force to make him stumble a half-step forward.

Junmyeon’s hand dropped from the back of your neck instantly. “Thanks, man. It was a tight race,” he said, his voice smoothing out into that polished, professional baritone that always made you want to roll your eyes.

“And hey,” Minho said, turning to you with a sympathetic wince. “You’ll get him next month. You were so close. Seriously, just one more lead and he’d be the one sitting here looking miserable.”

“I’m not miserable,” you lied, forcing a sharp, practiced smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m just already planning his downfall. Someone has to keep his ego from floating away.”

“Well said!” Hana got close to you, holding your arm with a cheerful vibe. “Crash him!”

“Yup, you will need luck for next month, Kim.” Minji appeared with Sora, who was laughing.

Junmyeon let out a short, dry chuckle, tucking the voucher into his breast pocket with a flourish that was meant only for you. “Careful. Overconfidence is usually what leads to second place. But I appreciate the congratulations, guys.”

The group laughed, the tension you had been building in the dark corners of the conversation dissipating into mundane office chatter. Slowly, the crowd began to thin, people drifting back to their cubicles to finish their final Friday tasks.

Junmyeon didn’t give you a second glance. He simply turned his back on you, curving his lips in a smug smile, leaning over his desk to check an email. He knew he had pissed you off successfully.

You sat back down at your desk, not just feeling defeated, but with the urge to kill him slowly. You could see the back of his head, the way his dark hair was perfectly styled, and the way his shoulders looked broad and immovable in that suit, acting as if the win was purely professional. You hated that.

You spent the next hour typing with a ferocity that threatened your keyboard, your jaw clenched so tight it ached. Every time you heard the crinkle of the envelope from his side of the desk, your blood spiked.

By 5:00 PM, the office was a ghost town. You were still there, staring at a spreadsheet you had already finished, waiting for something. You heard the rustle of fabric, the click of a briefcase, and then his footsteps.

Junmyeon walked past your desk without stopping.

“Bye, runner-up,” he said, his voice cool and detached as he headed for the elevators.

The anger was a hot, jagged stone in your chest as you watched the elevator numbers count down. You knew how he worked; Junmyeon didn’t just play the game, he manipulated the board. He hadn’t won because he was better; he’d won because he was devious.

You waited exactly five minutes—long enough to look like you were heading home, but short enough to catch him.

The basement parking lot was a concrete tomb, smelling of damp air. You spotted his car immediately. As you approached, the driver’s side window slid down.

“Coming?” His voice was a low, gravelly vibration that skipped down your spine. He looked infuriatingly smug behind the wheel.

Your purse hung lazily off your shoulder as you walked toward the passenger door. You didn’t smile. You gave him the look he knew best—the one that promised you weren’t there to congratulate him, but to ruin his victory. You yanked the door open and dropped into the leather seat, the scent of his cologne immediately filling your lungs.

“You’re late.” His voice dropped into that dark, flirtatious register that only came out when the office cameras were off.

“Shut up,” you snapped. You reached across the center console, your fingers hooking into the silk of his tie and yanking him toward you with enough force to make his neck snap forward.

You brought your face inches from his, your lips ghosting over his jaw. “You cheated. We both know it.”

Junmyeon let out a sharp, ragged breath, his hands flying to your waist to haul you closer. A slow, dark smirk spread across his face as he looked at your mouth. “Prove it,” he challenged, his eyes flashing with that familiar, unhinged hunger. “Planning on punishing me for it?”

Junmyeon was enjoying it—the aggression, the way you treated him like a criminal. You slid your hand down his chest, feeling the muscle jump and tighten beneath the expensive fabric of his suit. His breath hitched, turning rough and shallow as he leaned into your touch, his own hands traveling up your back to pull you flush against him.

When your lips finally crashed into his, it was a collision of teeth and tongue, fueled by the bitter adrenaline of the afternoon. It was angry and desperate. He groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening as he prepared to take exactly what he wanted.

But the moment he tried to deepen the kiss, to claim the satisfaction of a second win for the day, you pulled back.

You broke the contact abruptly, leaving him breathless and leaning into empty air. You smoothed your hair back with a clinical, cold precision and leaned back into your seat, a sharp, triumphant glint in your eyes.

“Not tonight,” you whispered, your voice a lethal purr as you reached for the door handle.

Junmyeon was speechless, leaning toward you, his pupils blown wide, his hands still hovering near your waist as if he could physically pull the “yes” out of you. “What—where you going?” His fingers were grazing the fabric of your skirt.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you tilted your head, letting a slow, faux-sympathetic pout pull at your lips. You reached out, patting his cheek with a condescending softness that felt like a slap.

“Oh, Junmyeon,” you sighed, your voice dripping with mock pity as you watched the frustration boil behind his eyes. “You look so... desperate. It’s almost sad. But I’m afraid I’m not on the menu tonight.”

“What do you mean?” he hissed, his jaw tightening so hard you could hear the bone click.

“It means I have much better plans,” you said, checking your reflection in the front mirror, fixing your lipstick and hair. “The girls and I are heading out. Drinks, dancing, and absolutely zero mention of you.”

The mention of your friends—the same ones who had just been strengthening your resolve to kick his ass—made his expression shift from heat to pure, unadulterated annoyance.

“You’re really going to choose a night of cheap cocktails over me?” he challenged, his voice straining, trying to sound indifferent.

“In a heartbeat,” you whispered, leaning in one last time just to leave a kiss on his jaw, leaving a perfect red mark of lipstick there before yanking the door handle. “Better luck next time, sweetheart.”

You stepped out, the sound of your heels clicking sharply against the concrete like a victory march. As you shut the door, you looked back through the window one last time. He was sitting there, eyes closed, his tie crooked, his pulse visible in his neck, gripping the wheel harder enough to notice his frustration bubbling up.

You just kept walking, laughing all the way to the elevator, leaving him exactly where you wanted him: wanting more and having nothing.

Three rounds in, the alcohol had softened the sharp edges of the week, and you, Sora, Minji, and Hana were hunched over a sticky table, howling with laughter and absurdity.

“You know,” Minji said, her eyes twinkling with that specific brand of drunken mischief, “I was looking at the two of you during the announcement today. Despite all the ‘I hope you trip into a volcano’ glares... you and Junmyeon would actually make a terrifyingly hot couple.”

You nearly choked on your drink, a spray of gin and tonic barely missing the table. “Minji, please. I’d rather date a cactus!”

“I don’t know…” Sora chimed in, leaning forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking at him. It’s not just rivalry. It’s like he wants to... eat you. Or ruin you. Or both.”

“Yeah, my career,” you corrected, though your heart did a traitorous little flip.

Hana, never one to let a fire die out, poured more gasoline. “Oh, he’s definitely got that energy. Y’know, the one who looks like a perfect gentleman in that suit but probably has a whole different personality in bed.”

“Stop! This is ridiculous!” you laughed, trying to wave them off, but your face felt suspiciously warm. “He’s a robot.”

“A very attractive robot,” Minji countered, wagging her eyebrows. “C’mon. You’ve been in close quarters with him for months. Can’t you tell me you haven’t noticed the aura? He’s got that ‘good in bed’ energy. Like, really good.”

You had to bite your tongue so hard it actually hurt.

“I wouldn’t know,” you said, your voice remarkably steady despite the internal chaos. “I’m too busy trying not to get a headache from his cologne.”

“Bet he’s a biter,” Sora added thoughtfully, tapping her chin.

“Nah, he likes being bitten,” Hana corrected. “You haven’t seen his neck?”

“I saw it too!” Minji laughed. “It’s always the ones who look the most composed who are the most unhinged behind closed doors, huh?” She patted your arms, noticing you were deadly silent, swallowing your words.

The irony was so thick you could taste it. You were sitting there, while your friends spent twenty minutes dissecting the exact sexual prowess of the man who had been hooking up with you for months.

“You guys are obsessed,” you said, letting out a genuine, breathless laugh at the absurdity of it all. “I don’t wanna talk about my nemesis here! C’mon, it’s girl night!”

“Fine, fine.” Hana laughed, raising her glass. “But mark my words. One of these days, that tension is going to snap, and I’ll be nearby when it happens.”

It already snapped, Hana, you thought, taking a long, triumphant sip of your drink.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Minji said, her eyes widening as she slammed her glass onto the table. “I just remembered. You two live in the same building!”

The table went silent for a heartbeat before erupting.

“Oh, you’ve been holding out on us!” Sora squealed, leaning so far across the table she was practically in your lap. “That means you see him in the wild. Does he wear those suits to get the mail?”

“It’s just a building!” You tried desperately to keep your voice from trembling. “I barely see him.”

“Liar!” Hana pointed a finger at you, her face flushed with gin-induced excitement. “Look at her—she’s got that look. You’ve seen something, haven’t you? What is it? His gym routine? He looks good in gray sweatpants and sweaty?”

“Hana, stop,” you laughed, though the mental image of Junmyeon in anything casual—or nothing at all—was currently playing on a loop in your brain.

“Bet his apartment is just as cold and clinical as his office,” Minji mused, her mind clearly heading into dirtier territory. “All glass and chrome. Very American Psycho. I bet he’s the type who watches himself in the mirror while he—”

“Minji!” you gasped, actually laughing. “You’re officially banned from talking for the rest of the night.”

“No, tell us!” Sora insisted, grabbing your arm. “Have you ever been in his place? Or has he been in yours? Oh my god… imagine the tension in that elevator. Just the two of you, floor after floor, staring at the numbers, knowing you hate each other but also knowing he’s... well, he’s him."

You thought about that very elevator—the way the doors had hissed shut, the way he’d slammed his hands against the wall, the way you’d yanked his tie until he stumbled.

Shit.

“No… definitely not,” you managed to say, your face burning.

“She’s blushing!” Hana screamed, attracting looks from the neighboring tables. “She’s totally thinking about him! C’mon! If you don’t tell us right now, I’m gonna call him myself and ask.”

“You wouldn’t dare…” Though a part of you knew Hana was drunk enough to try.

“Then give us something!” Sora pleaded. “Just one detail.”

You took a long, slow sip of your drink, the cool liquid doing nothing to soothe the heat in your cheeks. You thought about the bite mark on his neck, the way he’d growled your name into the mattress, and the look of pure, unhinged frustration on his face when he cu—

You shook your head, forcing a look of mild boredom. “I saw him running once.” You offered a small, shrug-like gesture as if the memory was barely worth the effort to recall. “Late at night. He had headphones on and looked just as miserable as he does when I’m beating his sales numbers. We didn’t even speak. That’s the extent of our ‘neighborly’ relationship.”

“Just once?” Sora asked, her voice dripping with disappointment. “No late-night elevator runs for snacks? No bumping into him while you’re both taking out the trash in your pajamas?”

“I’m pretty sure he purposely takes the service stairs just to avoid the risk of seeing my face and ruining his night,” you lied, the words tasting like gin.

“That sounds like him,” Hana muttered, swirling the ice in her glass. “The man is so dedicated to being your enemy that he’d probably move out if he thought you were getting too comfortable.”

“Exactly!” you said, taking a long, casual sip of your drink. “He’s just a guy who lives in the same building and makes my life a living hell from nine to five.”

You leaned back, letting their chatter wash over you as they finally shifted the topic to Minji’s dating app disasters. Inside, your heart was still thudding a mile a minute.

Admitting the truth—that you knew exactly what he looked like when he was out of breath, or that he’d been in your bed at 3:00 AM more times than you could count—would change everything. You weren’t ready to share the satisfaction of having Junmyeon exactly where you wanted him.

But as you laughed at Minji’s stories, your hand ghosted over your phone in your purse. You wondered if he was still sitting in that car, fuming, or if he was already back at the building, waiting for the sound of your heels in the hallway.

The walk from the taxi to the elevator ride felt lonely, boring with the lack of his presence. When the doors hissed open on your floor, instead of turning left toward your own door, you found yourself standing in front of his.

You were so close to knocking, close enough to imagine him on the other side—maybe sitting on that leather sofa with a glass of bourbon, still wearing that navy suit, and fuck.

With a sharp, internal snap, you pulled your hand back. Not tonight.

You turned on your heel and marched the few steps to your own door. When you tried to shove the key into the lock, your coordination betrayed you; the metal slipped, clattering clumsily to the floor.

“Shit.”

As you reached down to retrieve it, the floor seemed to tilt. You caught yourself against the wall, fingers splayed against the cold surface as the evening’s drinks finally caught up with you.

The elevator doors opened again. Junmyeon stepped out, winded from his run and radiating a heat that seemed to close the distance between you instantly. He was dressed in a black shirt and shorts, a light running jacket clinging to his frame in all the right places. His hair was damp, his chest heaved with every labored breath, and a single bead of sweat traced a path down his temple before disappearing into his collar. He didn’t even look up at you first; he was adjusting his glasses.

“Enjoying the view?”

His voice sent a treacherous shiver down your spine, snapping you out of a trance you hadn’t realized you’d fallen into. Junmyeon moved with an effortless grace that your own buzzed senses couldn’t match, unlocking his door in one fluid motion and leaving it ajar—a silent invitation.

The alcohol in your system felt like it had suddenly evaporated. You tightened your grip on your keys, the metal biting into your palm, before you crossed the threshold and shut the door behind you.

“I wasn’t looking at you.” But your eyes were fixed on the way his clothes matched his body proportions perfectly.

Junmyeon chuckled, tossing his watch and keys onto the table. He turned back to face you. “Is that so?” He took a step closer to you, a dark, triumphant smirk finally spreading across his face. “Then why are you here?”

“I—just to clarify that. Yeah,” you stammered, the excuse sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “I should go.”

“Sure.” Junmyeon’s voice dropped to a low register. He didn’t move an inch back, but his scent was clouding your senses. “The door is right behind you.”

Your feet were stuck, and your gaze was locked on his lips, taking a step closer.

“That’s what I thought.”

As Junmyeon closed the final inch, your defenses evaporated. Your purse slid forgotten from your shoulder, and the keys you had been gripping so tightly clattered to the floor. You didn’t care. You reached for him, your composure snapping as you crashed your lips against his.

Junmyeon reacted instantly. He trapped you against the door, sliding down one of his hands, searingly hot, to find the hem of your skirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your thigh with a proprietary force that made your knees buckle.

“Fuck—I hate you,” you gasped against his mouth.

“Not as much as I do,” Junmyeon murmured, tearing his mouth from yours to trail a path of heat down your jaw. His lips found the frantic pulse in your neck, devouring your skin, leaving hot marks. Your fingers tangled desperately into his hair, pulling him closer.

You shrugged out of your blazer, the fabric hitting the floor to join your keys and purse. Junmyeon slid his hand further up your skirt, then rubbed his fingers against your panties. The sudden, hot realization of your own wetness made every sensation feel amplified, a deep ache settling in your cunt that only he could soothe.

Junmyeon’s mouth remained anchored to your neck, his breath hot against your skin, while his free hand began to work the buttons of your blouse with a practiced, agonizing slowness. He exposed more skin, centimeter by centimeter, following the trail of the fabric with hungry, wet, searing kisses.

Your hips began to buck instinctively against his hand, a silent, desperate plea for him to touch you properly, to rub harder against your folds. You were losing the battle, your breath hitching in broken gasps. You could feel the wetness of his tongue against your bra, his hot breath cooling against the fabric, claiming you.

Junmyeon pulled away barely an inch, looking at you with hungry eyes, his hot fingers leaving you shivering and bereft. You watched, breathless and whimpering against the door, as he brought his hand up between your faces. His two fingers were slick. Without breaking eye contact, he slid his fingers into his mouth, watching you gasp again.

Junmyeon licked them clean with his tongue, swallowing as he tasted you. The sight of his lips wrapped around his own fingers while he stared you down felt like it was certainly an erotic vow.

“Fucking delicious.”

His voice sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your core. You couldn’t even find a retort. All you could do was stare at his mouth, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs, waiting for him to finish what he’d started.

“Jun—”

The friction of the lace was gone, replaced by the searing heat of his bare skin against yours. Junmyeon slid two fingers downward, finding your aching folds and directly rubbing them again with a heavy, rhythmic pressure that made your breath catch in a sharp, broken gasp.

“What is it?” His voice was thick with a dark sort of pride, ghosting your lips. “So desperate, doll.”

Before you could snap back, he collided his lips against your mouth and drove his fingers inside your cunt. The sudden fullness made you whimper, your teeth sinking into his lower lip in a sharp, instinctive bite. Junmyeon’s mouth curved into a smirk against yours, savoring the sting, groaning. He knew he had you.

His pace quickened, his fingers curling inside you with a ruthless precision that forced you to cling to his shoulders. You arched your back, your spine hitting the door as you bucked your hips against his hand, chasing the friction. He hummed in approval, a low vibration you felt deep in your chest, before his lips began a slow, torturous descent.

“Fuck! Don’t stop—ah.”

Junmyeon trailed wet, lingering kisses down your throat and over the swell of your chest, his breath hot through the thin fabric of your bra. When he finally caught your nipple between his teeth, biting down through the lace, the double hit of pleasure made your head toss back.

The wet, rhythmic sound of his fingers with vengeance, the friction even more intense. Junmyeon began scissoring his fingers deep inside you, catching your rhythm and then shattering it by going faster, harder, until your senses were completely blinded. You were a live wire in his hands, your gasps turning into frantic, wordless pleas as the coiling heat tightened once again, turning into a searing, unbearable pressure.

“Shit—yes.”

You were right there, your body trembling, your vision blurring as you prepared to shatter. And then, with the surgical precision of a man who knew exactly how to break you, Junmyeon stopped.

“Son of a bitch!” You let out a desperate, strangled sound—a mix of a sob and a moan—as your orgasm retreated just as it reached its peak.

Your legs were shaking so violently you had to lean your entire weight against the door just to stay upright, your inner muscles twitching and aching for more. You looked at him through a haze of frustration, your eyes stinging with the sheer need of it.

Junmyeon was looking at you, his chest rising and falling in a steady, maddeningly calm rhythm, lips curved, and that triumphant chuckle.

“C’mon, honey. You can resist a little tease.” His voice was smooth and terrifyingly steady. He was so close to your face, you could feel his warm breath. “Right?”

“You... bastard!” you managed to choke out, your voice a fractured wreck of its former self. You tried to reach for him, but your coordination was gone, your body heavy and oversensitive. “Just—finish it.”

“But that won’t be fun,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to your mouth.

Junmyeon just watched you—watched the way your breath hitched and the way your hands clawed at his shoulders—completely unfazed by the storm he had unleashed inside you. He was the one in total control, and he was savoring every second of your undoing.

“Please—Junmyeon, please.”

“Can make an exception.”

The agonizingly slow drag of his fingers returned, a deliberate, torturous rhythm that felt like he was mocking your desperation. Junmyeon was playing with you, teasing your sensitized flesh with a casual cruelty that left you utterly powerless. You couldn’t even form a coherent thought; your world had shrunk to the point where his hand met your body. You bucked your hips instinctively, trying to force a faster pace, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of his forearm in a silent, white-knuckled plea for him to just keep going.

“So impatient,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against your jaw. He trailed his tongue along the sensitive line of your neck, his breath hitching.

Just as the frustration peaked, his fingers snapped back into a blurring, ruthless speed, sending a violent jolt of electricity straight up your spine, your head snapping back against the door. You whimpered, the sound broken and raw, but the fear of him stopping again was more intense than the pleasure itself.

“P-please,” you finally gasped out, the word shattering the last of your pride. Your eyes were shut tight, your body arching into his as the coiling tension in your core became an unbearable, white-hot knot. “Junmyeon, please... don’t stop. Not again. I can’t—I’ll do whatever you want, just—shit. Don’t stop.”

Junmyeon let out a low, triumphant growl, his teeth grazing your earlobe as his pace turned even more punishing. “Oh?”

He pushed you past the breaking point, his fingers relentless and cruel as he kept you balanced on that jagged, unbearable edge. He adjusted his rhythm just enough to keep the tension coiling tighter, turning the pleasure into a beautiful, agonizing form of torture.

“What is it?” His voice dropped. He stopped his fingers for a heartbeat, hovering just at the entrance of your cunt. “Wanna cum?”

The frustration finally broke you. Tears of pure, overstimulated desperation welled in your eyes, blurring the sight of his smug, hot face. You nodded frantically, your pride evaporated.

“Yes,” you choked out. “Yes, damn it. Yes!”

“Good girl.”

Junmyeon drove his fingers back inside with a brutal, blurring speed, his thumb finding that aching spot with a proprietary force. You whimpered into his shoulder as your orgasm finally crashed over you, a violent, bone-deep release that felt like an explosion.

Your inner walls clenched around his fingers in frantic, rhythmic waves, milking the friction as you bucked helplessly against him. Your legs gave out completely, leaving you hanging on his frame as your body was racked by tremor after tremor.

Junmyeon watched you with a look of dark, satisfied possession, savoring the way you were reduced to a trembling, sobbing mess in his arms.

Junmyeon carried you effortlessly, your arms locked around his neck, before he dropped you onto the middle of his bed. The moment your back hit the mattress, you reached for him, pulling him down into a raw kiss. Your hands roamed over him, desperate to find skin, and the friction was so intense he finally bucked under your touch.

He couldn’t resist you any longer as you finished the job with your blouse, tossing it aside. Junmyeon surged forward, his mouth hungry and desperate as he attacked your neck, his breath coming in jagged lunges. He made quick work of your bra, and when your skin was finally exposed to the cool air, he didn’t give you a second to breathe. He buried his face against your tits, his kisses desperate and wide-mouthed as he devoured you.

“Junmyeon... please,” you moaned, your voice a fractured wreck as you arched your body off the sheets. Your hips were already moving in a frantic, instinctive search for pressure. “I need you.”

Junmyeon pulled back for a single heartbeat, looking down at you, swollen lips and his eyes dark, hungry, letting you take his glasses off. Without a word, he yanked his shirt over his head, muscles tensing under the dim light, before he dropped between your legs.

“Yes—”

He stripped your panties and your skirt away with a ruthless efficiency, his mouth immediately finding the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Junmyeon trailed wet, searing kisses upward, marking every inch of you, his hands gripping your knees to keep you open for him.

“I know you need me, doll,” he rasped, his voice vibrating against your skin. “C’mere.”

Junmyeon adjusted his position until he could settle himself firmly beneath you. He made you sit right on his face, the heat of his skin meeting the slick, aching center of your pussy. Your legs were already trembling violently, your senses so overstimulated that the mere proximity of him made your head spin.

You felt his hands slide up to your waist, anchoring you in place, before he delivered a giant, wet lick that traced you from bottom to top. The raw sensation of his tongue against your slit made you gasp into the empty room, your fingers dropping his glasses aside, clawing at the sheets as you buckled over him, completely at the mercy of his mouth.

You lost it immediately, your body jerking on top of him as your damp, swollen folds met the relentless heat of his mouth. He wasn’t being polite; he was loud and messy, the wet sounds of his tongue lapping at you and his moans filling the quiet of the bedroom and making your skin flush a deep, frantic red.

Junmyeon was devouring you with a desperation that told you he’d been starving as much as you did. Every slow, heavy stroke of his tongue against your slit sent a fresh jolt of electricity straight to your brain. You were squirming, rocking your hips as you tried to find a rhythm, but he was too fast, too thorough.

“Ah—Junmyeon, fuck!” you choked out, your fingers finding his hair, practically pulling at the roots.

In a fit of pure, unadulterated lust, you tried to squeeze your inner thighs against his head, wanting to trap him there, to force him even deeper into your mess. Junmyeon let out a muffled, dark growl against your skin, his hands sliding up to your ass to grip you with a bruising force, holding you steady as he focused entirely on your clit.

Junmyeon began to suck at that tiny, overstimulated point of nerves, his tongue swirling around it with a rhythmic, drowning pressure. You were a complete wreck, your voice high and jagged as you cried out, your hips bucking uncontrollably against his mouth. He was making a total mess of you, the slick evidence of your desire coating his lips and chin, but he didn’t care. He just drank you in, his breathing ragged and loud between every hungry lap.

“Shit, shit, shit. Yes!”

You were completely undone, the friction of his tongue driving you into a fever state where the only thing that existed was the wet, rhythmic sound of him eating you out. You turned your head a second, your vision swimming, and saw that he had kicked his shorts and boxers down just enough to free himself.

His hand was clamped around his cock, his fist moving in a fast, punishing blur as he jerked himself off. You could see the veins standing out on his forearm, the sheer force of his grip as he squeezed himself hard, his knuckles white.

“Fucking hell—you’re so addictive,” he groaned, making your core throb with a renewed, agonizing intensity.

You couldn’t help yourself, your voice a broken, breathless wreck as his mouth continued to claim you.

“Don’t... don’t you dare stop,” you hissed, your hands grabbing the headboard as you bucked your hips against his face. “Fucking eat me. Ah—just like that.”

You turned your head again. The sight of him working himself to the rhythm of his own tongue lapping at your slit was too much. You tried to squeeze your thighs against his face again, wanting to feel the vibration of his growls deep in your bones.

Junmyeon let out a jagged, guttural sound, his fist moving even faster as he buried his face deeper into your pussy—his tongue swirling around your clit with ruthless pressure.

“Fuck!”

The second climax hit you far more violently than before. Your swollen folds were almost too sensitive to bear, but the relentless pressure of his mouth wouldn’t let you escape. You felt your inner walls contract in frantic, agonizing spasms, the orgasm finally snapping through you. A raw, jagged cry teared from your throat as you shattered completely, your entire body vibrating against him, digging your nails into the headboard.

At that exact same moment, Junmyeon’s own control finally disintegrated. His fist worked in one last, punishing blur against his cock, and he let out a loud, choked-off shout—a sound of pure, unbridled release.

His body jolted violently against your thighs, his muscles locking tight. The sheer force of the climax left him physically drained, his grip on your waist finally loosening as he slumped forward.

Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale against your skin, holding you as the aftershocks continued to roll through you. He lingered, his tongue moving in slow, languid strokes to clean you. The sensation was almost too much for your overstimulated nerves.

“Fuck,” you gasped, though your hands were still buried in his hair, pulling him closer.

When Junmyeon finally shifted, he pulled you up, his muscles slick and straining as he guided you to sit firmly on his lap. You were face-to-face now, your skin flushed and damp, meeting the beautiful, honest mess that was left of his control. He leaned back against the headboard, his chest heaving in heavy, jagged lunges. The tension that usually tightened his shoulders was gone, replaced by a raw, satisfied relief.

“You look far too proud of yourself,” you whispered, your voice a breathless wreck as you pushed a stray, damp lock of hair from his forehead.

“I think I’ve earned it,” he rasped, his eyes hooded and dark with a proprietary heat, smirking. “I didn’t know my name could sound that filthy in your mouth.”

“You arrogant bastard,” you breathed, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips.

“And yet, here you are,” he countered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, his thumbs digging into your skin.

“Just because your tongue does better things than fight me back.” Testing the waters, you reached down, your finger tracing the hypersensitive tip of his length.

The contact made him hiss a jagged curse, his entire body jerking involuntarily. “Fuck—you vixen!” He winced, the pleasure-pain of the post-orgasm sensitivity hitting him hard, but he did tilt his hips into your touch.

“What? I’m just admiring the mess you made,” you teased, your finger circling his tip again, watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the sheets. “You were louder tonight, Junmyeon. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Don’t start,” he warned, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “I wasn’t the one begging tonight.”

“You’re the one who pushed me there,” you countered, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear. “You wanted me desperate. Needy.”

Junmyeon let out a long, shaky exhale, his head falling back against the wood. “Y-yeah. I wanted to ruin you.” He looked at your hand again, watching with a dark, mesmerized intensity as you continued to stroke him. Even though he was spent, even though he was raw, he let you touch, his breath hitching every time your skin grazed his.

“You’re addicted to this,” you whispered, looking up at him, curving your lips. “To me.”

“Completely,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a vulnerable, honest low.

You shifted your weight and wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his length. Junmyeon let out a sharp, fractured breath that sounded almost like a sob.

“Oh, Kim,” you whispered, leaning in until your lips grazed his ear, curving your lips. “Reduced to a shaking mess because I’m barely touching you?”

You started to jerk him off, your rhythm slow, designed to draw out every ounce of his sensitivity. Junmyeon hissed a string of jagged curses, his head snapping back against the headboard, his eyes squeezed shut as his body jolted.

“You like this, don’t you?” you purred. You leaned forward and sank your teeth into his lower lip, biting just hard enough to make him groan.

“Fuck…” he gasped, his hands coming up to grip your waist with a white-knuckled intensity. He tried to pull you closer, his hips bucking upward in a desperate search for more, but you held him back, keeping the pace agonizingly steady.

“Uh-uh.” Your hand tightened slightly as you moved up to his tip, watching his throat move as he swallowed hard. “You enjoyed watching me struggle, hmm? You liked making me wait and beg.”

You leaned back just enough to look at him—his hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen, his eyes desperate. Junmyeon looked completely undone.

“Now it’s your turn,” you purred, your thumb circling the sensitive tip of him until his breath hitched and stayed there. “I think I’m going to keep you right here for a while. I want to hear you beg.”

“You—you cruel woman,” he rasped, his eyes fluttering open, dark and hazed with a mix of pain and pure, unadulterated lust.

“Uh-uh. I’m just playing your game,” you countered. “Don’t complain when I use it all on you.”

You pulled your hand away with a sharp, clinical suddenness, mirroring the exact cruelty he’d shown you. Junmyeon’s hips bucked reflexively, chasing the heat that had just vanished, and he let out a strangled, desperate sound that was half-growl, half-sob.

“Don’t—” he rasped, his eyes snapping open, wide and hazed with a frantic kind of need. He reached for you, his fingers brushing your waist, but you pulled just out of reach, moving back on the bed.

“What?” Your voice was airy and teasing as you watched him tremble. “I thought maybe you liked the wait.”

“Shit—please,” he groaned, looking utterly wrecked, his chest heaving, his pride lying in tatters on the floor. “Don’t do this. Please… fuck, I’m begging you.”

“Are you?” You knelt between his legs, your shadow falling over his flushed skin. You reached out, your finger grazing the slick, pearly cum at his tip, and then you brought them to your lips, tasting him right in front of his eyes.

Junmyeon let out a hissed, jagged breath, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the sheets.

“Who’s in charge, Junmyeon?” you whispered, your eyes locked on his.

“Fuck,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “Y-you are. Just... please, do it.”

Satisfied with the brokenness in his tone, you leaned down. You started by swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown, catching every drop of his sensitivity. Junmyeon groaned, his hands flying to your hair, guiding you, his fingers trembling against your scalp.

Then, you took him into your mouth, swallowing him whole.

The low, guttural sound he made was pure animal instinct. His hips began to move lazily, a rhythmic, desperate thrust against your mouth as he fought to stay conscious. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat sent a violent jolt of heat straight to your own cunt; you were so wet you could feel your inner walls clenching around nothing, aching for a fullness that only he could provide.

“Fuck... yes! Right there.” His voice was a fractured wreck as his grip on your hair tightened, anchoring you to him. “Don’t… don’t you fucking stop. I’m gonna—shit.”

Junmyeon was completely at your mercy, his breathing turning into sharp, frantic hitches as your tongue worked over him, driving him toward a peak that he couldn’t escape. He was loud, messy, and entirely yours, his swearing turning into wordless pleas as he teetered on the very edge of his sanity, his chest heaving, his hip colliding uncoordinated with your face.

You reached down with your free hand, your fingers curling around him to squeeze his balls with a firm, proprietary grip, while your other hand jerked him with a fast, ruthless rhythm.

“Ah—yes, baby,” he choked out, his hands tangling desperately in your hair. “You’re fucking killing me. Shit—”

“Shh,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to give him a messy kiss. “You’re doing so good for me, Junmyeon. Such a good, obedient boy.”

“Don’t—” he groaned, a jagged, broken sound. “Please.” He shut his eyes, his hands trembling.

“What?” You smirked, grazing your lips on his, jerking him off. “You like it when I call you good boy?”

He barely nodded, probably ashamed that the lust was deeper. “Fuck, please... just finish me. Please?”

“I didn’t hear you.” Your fist squeezed harder. “You like it?”

“Yes! Fuck—I do!”

Satisfied, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him deep, swallowing his whole cock. Junmyeon groaned so loud that it made your own core pulse with a frantic, wet ache. You were a winner, and you both knew it—you could feel it in the way his muscles were locked tight, the way his swearing turned into a high, frantic whine.

“Yes, ah—yes!”

Junmyeon finally broke. With a loud, guttural groan, his body jolted violently. He came with a force that was staggering, hot sperm hitting the back of your throat as he pumped into your mouth. You coughed, trying to take every bit of him, even as it became too much to swallow, the excess dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

Junmyeon was completely overwhelmed, his body racking with aftershocks so intense his legs were still twitching against the sheets. He slumped back, his hands finally falling limp from your hair, his breathing coming in shallow, sobbing gasps.

You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, a triumphant, predatory smile on your face. You were covered in him—your lips, your chin, your skin—and the sight of him so utterly destroyed and overstimulated made you feel more powerful than any boardroom victory ever could.

You leaned down and mashed your mouth against his, a slow, sloppy kiss that was pure mockery. You deliberately smeared the slick evidence of his orgasm across his lips, tasting yourself and him all at once. Neither of you gave a shit about being clean; you were both too far gone, completely feral and obsessed.

“Tastes good, hmm?” you whispered against his mouth, your lips wet and glistening. “But you look like a fucking mess, Kim.”

Junmyeon let out a dark, ragged chuckle that sounded more like a growl, his eyes snapping open with a dangerous, predatory spark. “You think you fucking broke me? You think you’re in control because you can make me beg?”

Before the words could even fully leave his mouth, he gripped your waist and flipped you onto your back with a sudden, bruising force. The weight of his sticky, warm body pinned you flat against the mattress. You immediately felt the scorching heat of him—thick, heavy, and hard again, pressed right against your slick cunt.

“I’m gonna make you eat every single one of those words,” he rasped, his voice dropping to a filthy, gravelly whisper.

Junmyeon didn’t ease into you. He slammed his hips forward, burying his entire length inside you in one deep, ruthless thrust that bottomed out completely. You let out a sharp, high-pitched whimper, your toes curling as your overstimulated walls, raw from the previous orgasms, clenched around him like a vice. It was so intense that you reacted purely on instinct, arching your spine and biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Fuck—” Junmyeon groaned, tasting the copper on his tongue and immediately driving into you harder, his pace turning fast and punishing. “Fucking bite me again, you little psycho. Shit—you’re so goddamn tight.”

“Shut up and just fuck me, Junmyeon!” Your hands flew to his back, your nails digging into his skin and dragging down until you left long, angry red tracks. “Don’t you dare slow down—I wanna feel every fucking inch of you.”

“You like it rough, huh? You like it when I don’t give you a choice,” he half-growled, half-chuckled, his breathing coming in heavy, jagged lunges as the headboard began to slam violently against the wall.

He reached down, grabbing one of your thighs and pulling it high over his shoulder to open you up even more, angling his hips to hit that exact, agonizing spot inside you over and over again. He had you whimpering, incapable of saying a word but raw moans from your lips.

“Yes, doll. Look at how open you are for me. Shit—who owns this pathetic, aching pussy right now.”

With a low growl, Junmyeon slid his hand up from your waist, his palm wrapping around the front of your neck. He pressed down firmly, pinning you to the pillows. The sudden, heavy pressure on your throat sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight to your core. Your internal muscles reacted instantly, contracting violently and clenching around his thick cock.

“Fucking tight,” Junmyeon choked out, his jaw tight as your raw, hyper-sensitive walls squeezed him with an agonizingly perfect grip. “Say it. Who owns you.”

“You—you do,” you whimpered, your voice breaking, tears of pure, unadulterated pleasure blurring your vision as he absolutely devoured you from the inside out. “You do, fuck... Junmyeon—you feel so good. I’m gonna—”

“No, baby. You don’t cum until I tell you to,” Junmyeon swore, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, his face flushed and his jaw locked in pure, obsessive lust. He slowed his pace for two agonizing strokes, grinding his pelvis hard against yours, making the friction so thick and wet it was deafening. “Swear to me, love. Swear you’re never gonna let anyone else touch you like this.”

“N-never,” you sobbed out, your hips instinctively bucking up to meet his heavy, brutal thrusts, completely addicted to the pain and the pleasure of him stretching you open. “Fucking ruin me, Junmyeon, please…”

You didn’t push his hand away. Instead, your fingers scrambled up to grip his forearm, your nails digging into his skin—not to pull him off, but to anchor him there, silently demanding that he keep the pressure exactly where it was and push even deeper inside you.

“More,” you gasped out of breath, the word getting caught in your throat as tears of intense, overstimulated pleasure welled in your eyes and spilled down your temples. “I’m yours—I’m fucking yours!”

“That’s it. All mine,” he rasped, his own control disintegrating as his movements turned into a blurring, frantic frenzy of pure friction and sweat.

Neither of you could handle the raw, hyper-sensitive heat for more than a few minutes; it was a race to the absolute edge of your sanity, both of you completely lost in a blind, chaotic rhythm that was burning you both to the ground.

His heavy, sweat-slicked body was betraying him; every time he slammed deep inside you, a violent tremor would wrack his spine, his muscles locking up before he dragged himself back to plunge into you again. His lips were parted, his jaw strained so tight it looked like it would crack, and he was being incredibly loud, letting out deep, animalistic grunts and breathless curses with every heavy, wet thrust that echoed through the room.

“Jun—ah, please,” you choked out breathless, the sound barely escaping your throat as tears streamed down into your hair. Your hips bucked up on instinct, chasing the brutal friction, completely addicted to the agonizingly perfect pressure of his hand and his body. “I’m—I’m close—fuck, I can’t—”

“I know,” he growled, his gaze dark and hazed with an overwhelming, dangerous level of lust as he stared down at your wrecked face. Junmyeon finally freed your leg, but not your neck. He leaned down, his chest crushing your breasts, his mouth finding your ear as his hips accelerated into a blinding, frantic frenzy. “Just one… one more second. Shit—together. I wanna feel you crushing me.”

You nodded weakly. The raw sensation between your slick, swollen folds was deafening, a sloppy, desperate mess of skin against skin that threatened to burn you both down. Your fingers were clawing uselessly at his forearms as the pleasure became too intense to bear.

The press of his hand on your neck vanished the exact moment he lost it. A sharp, ragged gasp of air rushed back into your lungs just as your shared climax hit with a devastating, paralyzing force. Junmyeon’s control completely disintegrated; his hands slammed into the mattress on either side of your head, curling into white-knuckled fists as his entire body locked tight.

“Fuck…” he growled breathless.

You scrambled to hold him closer, wrapping your arms and trembling legs around his sweat-slicked frame, desperate to bridge any remaining distance, wanting to feel every single inch of your skin fused together. Inside you, his cock was throbbing violently, filling you up so completely that it felt like an electric current was surging through your veins. Your entire body was trembling, caught in a wave of violent, uncontrollable spasms.

Junmyeon couldn’t help himself—he gave a few final, sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts, rubbing your clit with his own thumbs, sending you entirely over the edge. Overstimulated to the point of delirium, you squirted against him, a high, fractured cry tearing from your throat and burying itself in the crook of his neck. You bit down on his shoulder, your nails anchoring deep into his back, riding the wave until he finally stopped moving altogether.

“Jesus Christ—Junmyeon!”

With a final, low groan, Junmyeon collapsed, his exquisite, heavy weight crushing you into the mattress. Neither of you moved an inch. You just lay there, a tangled tangle of limbs, sweaty, wet, and completely spent. Your internal walls and his muscles were still twitching with aftershocks as you both gasped for air.

Junmyeon let out a tired, breathless chuckle against your collarbone, the tension completely melted from his frame. “Fuck,” he rasped, his voice a deep, gravelly ruin as he tightened one heavy arm around your waist, pulling you securely against his side. “We... we need a shower.”

A breathless, exhausted laugh bubbled up from your chest, your lips brushing against his damp shoulder. “But you’re carrying me.”

“Deal.”

After the warm water of the shower had finally washed away the sticky, frantic evidence of the night, Junmyeon carried you back to the fresh side of the bed. The cool, clean sheets felt like heaven against your scrubbed skin, but you didn’t stay apart for long. Almost immediately, he pulled you against his chest, molding his body to your back and draping a heavy, possessive arm over your waist. He buried his face deep into the damp curve of your neck, his nose hidden in the strands of your hair as his breathing slowed into a deep, rhythmic hum.

“Junmyeon?” you murmured. “That was my shampoo?”

He let out a lazy and completely unbothered song, shifting just a fraction, tightening his grip on your waist as if trying to physically anchor you into silence. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

You could hear the sheer exhaustion filling his lungs, his voice gravelly and weighed down by the sleep he was desperately chasing, but your curiosity got the better of you. “Don’t play dumb. You bought it, but you clearly haven’t used it. Why is it in there?”

“I like the smell,” he mumbled defensively into your neck, his breath warm against your collarbone.

A tiny, knowing smile tugged at your lips. Junmyeon had bought your exact shampoo just to have it ready for the moments you stayed over, a quiet gesture that felt incredibly loud.

Intrigued, you carefully rolled over within the tight circle of his arms to face him. The movement made him let out a soft, disgruntled groan, but he didn’t let you go. You blinked through the dark, finding his sleepy face just inches from yours. His eyes were tightly shut, his hair soft over his forehead, and his swollen lower lip was pulled into a faint, exhausted pout.

You reached up as you gently cupped his face. Your thumb brushed just below his eye, tracing the soft, relaxed skin. “Buying my shampoo just so when I’m here. Who knew my biggest rival was actually such a softie?”

Junmyeon let out a low, gravelly chuckle that vibrated right against your fingertips. “I’m not soft,” he mumbled, his voice thick and entirely ruined by sleep. “I’m practical. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“It was also a practical move that you faked ending your run just when I came home?”

His eyes stayed shut, his arm tightening around your waist. “What the hell are you talking about? Please… go to sleep.”

“Liar,” you persisted, a sleepy, goofy smile spreading across your face as you remembered the struggle at your apartment door. "You were running with glasses, Junmyeon. You don’t do that. You just came because you saw me coming, fumbling with my keys, and then, you had the nerve to mock me.

“You were fumbling,” he murmured, a soft, amused laugh escaping his lips as he buried his face further into your hair, incapable of denying your accusation.

“I was perfectly sober,” you corrected, letting out a soft, absurd chuckle. “Those three cocktails didn’t even exist in my body. My system completely neutralized them.”

“Sure, sure.” He curved his lips, his voice thick with sleep. “We’ll see how that ‘neutralized’ system feels when the morning comes, and you’re begging me for aspirin.”

“Ugh, I hate you know me so well. But… you will give it to me just because I’m your favorite rival. Admit it.”

“Not quite sure,” he whispered back, finally wrapping his other arm around you to pull you completely into his space. He let out a long, heavy sigh. “Maybe just for tonight.”

“Still wrong,” you mumbled. “I’m your only rival. Everyone else just lets you win. You’d be bored to death without me.”

Junmyeon let out one last, quiet chuckle; the sound felt warm and private. He shifted slightly, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

“Maybe you’re right.” His voice dropped to a low, sleepy confession. Before you could say another word, he guided your head down, nudging you until your face was completely hidden in the warm crook of his neck. “Sleep,” he whispered against your hair, his hand pressing firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you tucked safely against him. “No more talking for tonight.”

You didn’t protest this time. Letting out a soft sigh, you wrapped one arm securely around his torso, anchoring him close. Your leg slid instinctively between his, lacing your limbs together under the heavy duvet until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between you.

As the heavy, comfortable silence of the room settled over you both once again, a quiet smile spread across your face, your eyes fluttering shut as you melted into his hold. And, against your hair, completely hidden in the dark (and the soft scent of your shampoo), Junmyeon was smiling too—neither of you truly knowing just how deeply the other was already losing the risky game.

"Stay a little longer.” Chanyeol’s voice is low behind you. His arm is lazily draped over your waist, pulling you in closer so your back was firmly pressed against his chest. Smiling, you reach for his hand.  

But there is no hand. Chanyeol isn’t here. And you’re alone in your bed. 

It’s been a week since that day in Chanyeol’s car. He didn’t reach out the next morning to apologize like he always does. He didn’t chase after you after the breakup. You got the hint. 

He was done with you. 

Tears prickle your eyes once again. Completely numb, you don’t move from your bed.  

Your eyes scan the condition of your room. It’s not exactly messy but there is a garbage can overflowing with tissues and a half-eaten plate on your study desk. You sigh, you should probably clean a bit before Minji shows up. 

Even though she knows you are in the trenches at the moment, you’d still like to clean up for her, having Junmyeon’s nagging forever engrained into your brain. Your body feels heavy. You drag your feet and pick up the still heavy plate: you barely ate. You did try though, at least for Junmyeon who was doing his best to feed you and make sure you weren’t skipping any meals. 

You’re throwing away the leftovers when Minji shows up at the door with Junmyeon. You must have not heard the knock. She smiles shyly at Junmyeon first then you and goes straight to your room. 

As your smartest friend, Minji has taken upon herself to come over every day to give you an impromptu class of all the courses you’ve missed during the week.  

Junmyeon has also not nagged you once this whole week about having a messy room or skipping your courses. He is unsurprisingly supportive and by your side through it all. When you let him, he talks to you about other things to take your mind off of his best friend. He makes sure you eat, bringing you and Minji little snacks when you study together.  

He’s happy you have someone like her by your side. Minji might be his favourite of all your friends. 

“Thank you Junmyeon,” Minji smiles at your brother who is setting some cut up fruit down on your desk.  

“You’re welcome, Minji.” He smiles back, adding a playful tone to her name to which she giggles at.  

You raise an eyebrow as you watch the two shamelessly flirt in front of you. Minji has never been the type to be subtle. It’s a big reason why you were friends. She was sweet but was never afraid to call you out on your bullshit. She was the one friend who knew just what to say to get through that tough skull of yours.  

“Your brother is so handsome. You don’t mind if I ask him out, right?” She asks as he barely gets past your door. Oh wow, she was really going for it now. Because there is no way she thought he didn’t hear that. 

“No, I don’t mind.” You tell her, but she’s barely paying attention, already texting who you’re assuming is Junmyeon on the other side of the screen. “Can we please focus so I can get back to crying myself to sleep?” 

“Right.” Her tongue sticks out between her teeth before pressing send on her long blue bubble. She gets back to work, explaining Chapter 8 as closely to the professors’ lecture as possible. You were so grateful to have a friend as smart as Minji. You would have probably failed by now if it weren’t for her. And to think she’s doing this all from the kindness of her heart.  

Or to bone your brother. 

Whatever, you try not to think about it too much. You’ve done enough thinking. 

It’s 8pm when you are able to repeat the lecture back to Minji with full confidence. It’s the first time you’ve smiled since Chanyeol. Minji’s cheekbones begin to hurt from how proud she is of you. It’s a small win but she’s just happy you haven’t totally given up. 

“Minji, you’re a godsend. Thank you so much for everything. I promise I’ll be back next week. I just... can’t... right now.” You pull her in for a tight hug.  

“It’s really nothing. It helps me too. I’m very down to do this again even after you come back to classes.” Minji is a literal guardian angel coming for your rescue. You have never had a friend like her before. “I do have to go though. Don’t cry yourself to sleep. And eat whatever Junmyeon gives you.” 

“Yes, mother.” You escort her out the apartment and surprise, surprise, Junmyeon is out of his room in a heartbeat to bid her farewell as well. They are so obvious, it’s killing you. You and Chanyeol were never this obvious with Junmyeon. You were a bit envious of how effortlessly they were flirting: without a care in the world of what you thought about it. You wish you had been like that. You wish you could’ve gotten over whatever fears and insecurities you had. You probably would still be with Chanyeol by now. 

“What are you thinking about?” Junmyeon snaps you out of your daydreaming. You’ve been in your head a lot lately, finding comfort in there than in the real world. You didn’t even realize Minji had already left. Junmyeon waits for you to answer as he locks the door and rearranges the shoes at the front door.  

“You and Minji are really cute.” You say, catching Junmyeon off-guard. He straightens awkwardly.  

“Oh, t-thank you.” He stumbles on his words, taken by surprise by the sudden compliment.  

“I wish I was like that with Chanyeol.” You say blankly, feeling so, so numb inside.  

“Why weren’t you? You know I wouldn’t care.” He tilts his head, genuinely curious, like he’s been asking himself this all week while you hid in your room. 

Yes, yes, you did know and yet, you still managed to freak yourself out. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug and suck in a cheek nervously. He watches you, brows furrowing when he sees you’re thinking extra hard again.  

“Junny, I think I need help.” 

-------- 

Junmyeon worked his grown-up magic and got you matched with a therapist within weeks. You’ve heard of horror stories where it would take months. You have no idea how he managed it but wow, were you grateful for him. If someone told you that Junmyeon single-handedly hung the moon every night, you would believe them. You look at your brother driving with stars in your eyes; he really is the only constant in your life. You don’t know what you would do without him. Snapping you out of your daydreaming, he puts the car into park and turns to you.  

“Okay, call me when you’re done okay?” Junmyeon says with a comforting smile. “I’ll stay around the neighbourhood.” 

You nod, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Junny.” 

You get out of his car and walk up to the door of the now familiar private studio. You knock and your therapist, Joohyun, enthusiastically answers the door.  

“Y/N! Come in, come in.” Her calm and friendly voice always manages to ease the tension you feel every time you walk up these stairs. This is your third visit with her and you were really starting to like her. She listened to you pretty well, you think. She didn’t cut you off or ask you a bunch of questions that made you want to cry like you thought a therapist would. 

“Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” She gestures to the couch you’ve grown familiar with. You sit on the bouncy green couch and take a pillow for you to hold, exhaling the deep feeling out of your chest as you find a comfortable position.  

“So, how are you?” She starts and you don’t know why but your heart starts beating a little quicker. It’s your third session. There should be no reason for you to be nervous.  

“I’m fine. And you?” You ask, heart racing and clearly not fine, but you don’t really think much of it. 

"Just fine? Why is that?” She questions you and you’re taken aback. She’s never asked you why before. 

“Because I’m not crying right now?” You try to joke, but you forget you’re at a therapy session. And Joohyun doesn’t laugh at your sarcastic jokes. 

“Does ‘not crying’ mean the same thing as feeling fine?” She asks another mind-blowing question, at least mind-blowing to you. Her facial expression is hard to read, still holding a small smile on her lips.  

“Oh.” You think for a second, then laugh at yourself. This must be the part people warned you about therapy. When you told your friends that you were going to start seeing a shrink, they all told you to prepare to cry – this must be it. You feel like she’s about to hit you with some therapist magic. You were getting nervous again. “I guess not.”  

Joohyun nods with that comforting smile that lets you know to keep going.  

“I really miss him.” You start, rubbing the pillow and circling the button on it nervously. “I think about him a lot.” 

“What do you miss about him?” She tilts her head, hair falling so nicely on her shoulders. 

“Everything, actually.” You laugh and bite your lip. “I miss how nice he was to me.” 

“Are people generally not nice to you?” She frowns ever so slightly. There isn’t a single wrinkle on her face. She doesn’t look like she’s ever been stressed a day in her life. You wonder if she has a therapist for her problems or if she is just gifted in beauty and mental health. 

"Mmm, I wouldn’t say they’re not nice. I think I set people off the wrong way. I feel like I come off too strong sometimes. Like... I scare them away. I don’t know. That’s just what I think, but then again, I have friends who don't think I’m too much. Chanyeol said I wasn’t too much but I think I was.” You slow down when you notice Joohyun note something in her little notebook. You shouldn’t let it psych you out but it just does. 

Joohyun then hums and twirls her pen with her fingers.  

“When was the first time you’ve felt this way?” 

You blink, not expecting that question. There are a lot of surprise questions today. You take a moment to think. It’s just always been a thing for you. You can’t pinpoint a single moment.  

“I’m not sure. Maybe sometime in high school?” You know you should continue but you’re not sure how to. Your whole life, you’ve been told you were too much, that you were hard to get along with, difficult. 

“Anything in particular that made you feel like you were a lot? It doesn’t have to be the first time.” Joohyun slightly nudges you to continue, offering some help for you to get there. You bite on your bottom lip a little harder, thinking deeply this time, your lips were starting to feel dry from the constant biting. The first thing that comes to mind is Jongin. The push and pull of your relationship. The need to be enough for him. 

“I think, maybe, with Jongin? My first boyfriend. We were on and off a lot. He liked to say I was overbearing and possessive but then would beg for me back, and the cycle would just restart. It was confusing. I don’t know how I got out of that.” You laugh at yourself and how reckless you were with your heart. Joohyun never laughs when you poke fun at yourself. She keeps a straight face. 

"And when he said you were ‘overbearing’, how did that make you feel?” 

Your brows furrow. She was really making you do mental gymnastics here. This was not at all how the first two sessions went.  

“It didn’t make me feel good.” You purse your lips. “It made me feel like I had to change for him.” 

“Change how?”  

“Like, to be less reactive, emotional, needy. Just, a lot less.” You shrug. This wasn’t anything new that you were resurfacing. You knew that the relationship was toxic and it very much had a huge impact on your relationship with Chanyeol.  

“How did that work for you?” She looks up from writing in her notebook and taps her pen on the book.  

“Not well. He still cheated.” You scoff. You know you sound pathetic.  

"What made you take him back every time?” Her hand rests under her bottom lip pensively. 

“Well, I loved him. When you love someone, you have to work hard to stay together.” You say, a bit defensively. “Right?” You try to get validation, but she doesn’t give it to you. 

“And when it ended for good, what happened then?” 

You remember feeling relief but also feeling so lonely. You didn’t have many people to lean on at the time. Junmyeon wasn’t living at the house anymore. And your dad... Well, he wasn’t there. 

“I felt alone.” You finally say and this seems to spark interest in her. “But everyone feels alone after a break-up. I don’t think I’m an exception.” 

You suddenly feel the need to explain yourself, continuing without her follow up question. 

“I wasn’t alone, alone. I would invite friends over when my dad wasn’t home. And Junmyeon would call and visit sometimes when he had the time.” You ramble on about your childhood. 

“Did you feel like your dad was there for you?” 

You frown, how did we get here? Oh, she was good. You’ve always thought your issues stemmed from your mom’s passing, but you never really addressed it. It was kind of just ‘common sense’? 

“I mean, my dad and I never really got along. Ever since mom died, he was never really home. He worked a lot. Had to pay the bills somehow. He mostly came home to sleep and eat but that’s it. We never really talked.” You tell her the story like you’ve rehearsed it a hundred times. 

“That sounds lonely.” She empathizes with you. “What did your dad think about you inviting people over?” 

“He hated it.” You scoff. “He came home early once when I had a little get together and got really upset. He sent me away to live with Junmyeon so that Junmyeon could ‘discipline’ me.” 

“Did that work?”  

“I mean, kinda? Junmyeon was always a pseudo-parent to me. It’s easier to listen to someone who actually seems to care about me. I also didn’t feel the need to invite people over because Junmyeon was always there, and he always seemed to want to hang out with me.” You’re not sure why but your eyes were beginning to sting thinking of your brother. “He made me feel welcome in his home. He didn’t make me feel like a burden or overwhelming. I know he probably thought it but he would never tell me that. I really love him for that.” 

Joohyun grabbed a box of tissues behind her and handed it out to you. Confused, you touch the side of your face and feel the tears that escaped the corner of your eye. You shyly grab a couple with a smile. She returns the warmth, smiling back at you.  

"It sounds like you felt safe with Junmyeon.”  

“I was. I am safe with him. I think he is the only pillar in my life. I ask for help and he will be by my side right away.” You pause. “He helped me get here.” 

“He’s a really good person to have in your life.” She smiles softly, seemingly happy that you have someone to lean on.  

“Yeah,” You smile, dabbing a tissue at the corner of your eye. “I’m very lucky to have him.” 

"And Chanyeol?” She asks gently. “Do you think you were lucky to have him too?” 

You don’t know why you’re even surprised by her questions at this point. With a deep inhale and slow exhale, you answer her. 

“Of course. He was always so reassuring and patient. There were times we would break up and we’d quickly kiss and makeup. But it wasn’t like Jongin. When Jongin and I got back together, we didn’t - couldn’t - apologize to each other. One of us would cave and it would be like nothing ever happened. Chanyeol... Chanyeol knew how to talk to me. He knew how to say sorry. He just... knew how to ‘handle’ me, I guess? I don’t know. He was really good at the whole communication thing.” Your lips purse as if that would prevent any more tears from falling. You miss him so much. “He would always reach out first and ask to talk. But this time, he didn’t do that. I guess I could’ve reached out too. But I’ve never had to. I don’t think he’s coming back. And I don’t know how to deal with all of this. I really don’t know.” 

Joohyun nods then gives you a reassuring smile as she has been doing all session. 

“That’s okay. That’s why we’re here.” She shuts her notebook and places it on the side table next to her. You glance at the clock. Your eyes widen when you see there are only 10 minutes left. “I’m going to give you a little homework. I want you to start recognizing what makes you feel safe.” 

A short laugh escapes your lips, your hands fly to cover your mouth. “Sorry. How do I do that?” 

“You can start by using the people who you know bring you a sense of safety and peace of mind.” 

“People like Junmyeon?” You ask innocently for clarification. 

“Yes, and Chanyeol.” She replies with a smile. You can’t tell if she’s playing with you. 

“I- Chanyeol too?” So you ask for more confirmation. 

“He might not be here right now but that doesn’t erase the countless times he’s showed up for you and made you feel safe.” 

-------- 

Junmyeon’s car is parked right in front of the studio. He’s smiling, texting on his phone. You exhale and reach for the handle, yanking it open and shutting it close a bit too aggressively for Junmyeon’s taste. It takes one smile from Junmyeon for you to slam your head onto his dashboard and groan. 

“Hey, how was it?” Junmyeon teases you and laughs when you give him the middle finger, cheek smushed onto the dash.  

“Alriiiiight.” He folds his smile inside his mouth and shifts gears to drive. A classic third session, he laughs to himself. 

-------- 

Your new life consists of three things: studying, therapy, and hanging out with Junmyeon and Minji. 

The two were now officially a couple. It didn’t take long for them to get together. It’s been about 4 months now, and they have been tied to the hip every single day or at least, it feels like every single day. They started a bit slow as not to rub it in your face, but you were way too preoccupied with studying and passing your finals to even notice.  

Your grades have surprisingly gone up to above average, earning you a 2.8 GPA to your father’s content. 

“See, I told you it would be good to have her move in with you.” He had told Junmyeon one night over the phone when your brother thought you were asleep. Junmyeon could only sigh and tell him that you worked really hard to get better grades and that it was not Junmyeon’s credit to take. Your father simply changes the subject, clearly over being “proud” of you. 

You’ve learned not to take his words to heart and that “I am doing my best” and “I am enough” and should not rely on my father’s approval. You think you won therapy.  

Junmyeon and Minji, your safe people – as Joohyun puts it - make sure to celebrate your small wins every chance they get, buying a cake tiny enough for the three of you every single time you wouldn’t crash out when the old you absolutely would have. Just last week, you celebrated your first month of not asking Junmyeon (or asking Minji to ask Junmyeon) for a Chanyeol update. It was all going well.  

“I’m gonna call him.” You say proudly.  

Junmyeon and Minji look at you in horror.  

“What?” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, hun.” Minji is disapproving right away while Junmyeon looks like he wants to bury himself seven feet in the ground. 

“But it’s been 4 months. I go to therapy. He would be so proud.” You show four fingers to the pair of disapproving stares.  

All you want to do is celebrate your small wins with Chanyeol too. You want to show him that you have changed. You’re all healed up now. He can come and get you whenever he’d like. You can imagine his reaction: he would smile widely and hug you in his arms so tightly that you’d run out of air. God, you miss him. 

“You are so right. But wouldn’t he be even prouder if you didn’t cry every time you hear the name Hyemi?” You yelp at the name. Minji’s tone is sarcastic, not intentionally being mean but it hurt nonetheless. 

“I think Minji just wants you to focus on yourself first.” Junmyeon finally speaks up and acts as your big brother. You sigh, now that they were dating, you now have two responsible people to care for you (two people to talk you out of your stupid ideas). 

You used to be able to ask Minji for Chanyeol updates through Junmyeon. Your brother refused to talk about his best friend to you, warning you that it was a bad idea to keep tabs on him. Because, “what if you hear something you don’t want to? then what?”  

And he was right.  

The moment you found out through Minji that Chanyeol had not been asking about you, you were distraught. You couldn’t function for at least a day or two, heartbroken by the thought that he simply does not care about you anymore. Junmyeon and Minji worked overtime to get you back to a functioning human. You haven’t asked about Chanyeol since then, deeply heartbroken by his lack of interest in you. 

“That was a bit harsh, Minji. But I get it.”  

You bite your lip for the next suggestion that’s about to pop out of your mouth.  

“Although... do you think we can skip the cake and actually do something fun this time? It’s summertime and I can’t be eating cake every week.”  

-------- 

You should have known when the couple agreed to go out for “fun” that it would be somewhere lame like a ceramic café and you would be home at a reasonable hour.  

“Minji, what happened to you? We used to have fun.” You say as you paint your mug a pretty shade of purple. At least Junmyeon was paying.  

“This is fun!” Minji reaches for some of your purple and paints dots on her mug. She then leans towards Junmyeon in search of a different colour. “Could you please pass the green, honey?” 

“Honey? You guys are already acting like an old married couple.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at them. Junmyeon smiles, loving the comment, and hands Minji the green. “Who showed you this place anyway?” 

“You know, I can’t remember.” Junmyeon frowns, trying to think of the poor friend who recommended this place and is slipping from his memory. When you think of painting a customized mug, your mind goes straight to the type of people who go to ceramic cafés: couples on a first date, old couples who ran out of things to do and very, very sad single people. 

The bell from the door rings and your attention turns towards the person entering the room absentmindedly.  

You freeze. 

Your breath hitches when you see the familiar Stussy baseball cap and that fucking Nike compression shirt. Your heart races as you watch him move so normally, like he’s just out doing an errand. The side of his smile peeks out, sending your heart to go on an adventure over the moon. You try to stretch your neck to see a little more of him, secretly hoping he would catch your gaze, sweep you off your feet and take you away to start over again. 

The reality is that he doesn’t look back. 

Junmyeon and Minji haven’t seen him either, too focused on their projects and backs facing Chanyeol’s direction. You watch him put up two fingers and you frown. The lady behind the counter smiles before disappearing to the back to pick up his two mugs.  

Two mugs. 

Two mugs? 

Why did he make two mugs?  

The grip on your paintbrush tightens without thinking. 

You shake your head and exhale. You should not care this much anymore, you tell yourself. Your mind is thinking it: the possibility that he might have gone on a date here, but you refuse to let yourself spiral and risk losing all the progress you’ve made. Still, your eyes sting at the image of him starting over with someone new. 

You exhale, easing the tension built around your chest. 

He’s not yours. He’s not yours. You chant to yourself. 

The bell rings again and he’s out the door in a blink of an eye. 

-------- 

You don’t see Chanyeol again after that. You don’t hear about him at all. It’s like he never even existed.  

It hurt to see him go from the man of your dreams to a stranger in a year, but you suppose it had to happen this way to get your current life. 

You’ve finally passed all your courses with remarkably high scores, bringing your cumulative GPA to a 3.2. Your father has finally acknowledged your hardwork and praised you directly, and not through Junmyeon.  

It was surreal to be standing in front of your smiling father, a bouquet of pink lilies in hand. You pout at the image before you: your little family. Here, to support you on your graduation day. Your tears well up when you run into Junmyeon’s arms for the biggest hug.  

“Thank you so much for being there for me, Junny. I couldn’t have done it without you.” You pull away from the hug slightly to tell him with the brightest smile. Junmyeon smiles just as brightly if not brighter before squeezing you in for a second hug.  

“That was all you, Y/N.” He says before letting you go.  

You step to the side and face your father who points the bouquet for you to take. Your father stands awkwardly, unsure how to congratulate you. Things weren’t exactly fixed, but they are on their way there. Instead of grabbing the flowers, you go in for a hug too. He melts into your arms, holding onto you as tightly as the last time you allowed him to.  

“Congratulations, my baby girl.” He mutters, not letting you go, afraid that this moment won’t last long. Equally scared, you squeeze him just as tightly. 

“Thank you, daddy.” Your voice is small, reverting to when you were seven and your mom was still alive, your dad was your hero and your brother was just a brother. 

Junmyeon is the first to interrupt the moment. “Shall we head to the restaurant?” 

You both nod, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes.  

You take the time to linger in the blissful moment. 

You had your brother, your dad back in your life, and Minji. You would be lying if you said you didn’t care that Chanyeol wasn’t here to see it. He was always supporting your studies back when all you wanted to do was go out and dance. He pushed you to do better and you never did, never listened. Despite wanting him here, it was best that he wasn’t in your life anymore. 

“Is it okay that I invited Minji and her family?” Junmyeon asks once you arrive in the car. He knew it was okay, but this was your day too. 

“Of course. Are you...?”  

Before you could finish your sentence, he takes out a green velvet box from his pocket. Your jaw drops in excitement. “Can I see??” You squeal. He’s been talking about this for a long time now. He asked you to investigate about 5 months ago. You used your sneaky skills, courtesy of Jongin, to good use, stealing her phone when she wasn’t paying attention and recording her entire pinterest wedding board. 

Junmyeon opens the box to reveal the most beautiful 2 carat cushion diamond with a silver band.  

“It’s beautiful, Junny. She’s going to love it.” Your smile reaches your eyes and Junmyeon knows you mean it. He hides it back into his pocket and releases the biggest sigh, huge grin on his face. 

“I think so too.” Junmyeon says, pausing a bit. You wait for him to start the car but he thinks a little longer. “Dad, could you pass me the pink bag?” 

Your dad immediately eyes the bag behind Junmyeon’s seat and hands it to him. You frown, you had told him no gifts. He’s done enough for you already. 

“I know you said no gifts, but this one is special.” He hands you the pink bag which you take cautiously. You open the bag and remove the crinkly paper covering the gift. Your eyes light up and you squeal in excitement.  

“What is it?” Your dad asks from the backseat, very curious on the type of gift that gets you squealing like this.  

“The special Twinkle Twinkle box!!!” You exclaim and Junmyeon laughs as you lunge towards him for another hug. “These have been sold out for a year. Where- How?” 

He shrugs, “I got it at work.” 

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. They don’t restock special editions.  

“When did you get this?” 

“Last month.” 

You freeze. There was no way they were making new ones a month ago. This had to be- 

Chanyeol. 

Your fingernails dig slightly into the box. 

“Oh.” You say, realizing the truth. But you don’t say anything. “T-Thank you again, Junny. It really means a lot to me.” 

Junmyeon smiles, unaware of your innocent act, and starts the car to drive to the restaurant. 

A smile inhibitedly appears on your own face as you thought of him. 

-------- 

The year coming up to the wedding is a bit hectic, especially in the last few months.  

You finally got a job at an office. It wasn’t exactly what you’d pictured but the salary was enough for you to live on your own and move out of Junmyeon’s, despite their protests. “You don’t have to leave!” Minji said, pouting. She was finally going to have a sister and she was so excited to live with you. But you knew that this was the perfect time for you to move out. You didn’t move too far though. Junmyeon, who also didn’t want to see you leave, conveniently found a place right above. Just for you. 

“You can come visit anytime! This is your second home.” Junmyeon said, trying his best to convince you to at the very least not move out of this building. He loves having his little sister around. The three of you have become somewhat of a unit and you were their official third wheel (unable to find a proper date of your own). Although, Junmyeon did end up being the third wheel once when you went to a concert and Minji was hugging you like she was your boyfriend.  

There was never anyone serious enough to introduce them to. You started dating again about 6 months ago, mostly going on blind dates Jane set up for you.  

But Jane... Well, she never really had the best judgement, so not many were up to your newly high standards. You can’t even explain why you entrusted her with your dating life. You would have gone to Minji but she wasn’t as well connected as Jane was. 

This brings you to your next point. You got a puppy! The loneliness was slowly taking over and you couldn’t handle it anymore. Junmyeon was never keen on having one at his apartment and with the extra space you were going to have and lack of significant other, you thought this would be the perfect time to get the puppy little you has been dreaming of. Just like the inseparable trio you were, you dragged Junmyeon and Minji to an animal shelter to find you a four-legged companion.  

“Are you sure you don’t want a cat?” Junmyeon eyes all the large breeds and lack of smaller ones. “Getting a big dog as a first pet is a bit...”  

"It’ll be fine. The landlord says it’s okay as long as it’s not a huge disturbance.” You walk through the hallway of dogs. Your heart sinks when you realize you can’t take all of them home.  

And then, you make eye contact with her. 

The most beautiful seal-looking dog is looking at you with her tongue out, waving her behind excitedly. You knew right then. 

“I want her!” You point before running towards the staffy behind bars.  

Minji squeezes Junmyeon’s hand tightly when she sees him physically panic.  

“That’s a high energy dog.” He says, very, very concerned.  

“And I am a high energy person! Think of all the hikes we could go on.” The volunteer approaches you both and opens the cage for you. Your beautiful seal-dog jumps on you enthusiastically, wetting your entire face. You fall on your behind as you coo and pet her. 

“You hate nature though.” Junmyeon responds doubtfully. His sister, the one who gets her lashes and nails done every month, does not seem like the type to enjoy hiking. 

“Because I’ve never been hiking.” You shine the brightest smile at him and he can’t help but soften his gaze. 

“Do you even own hiking shoes? You know what, nevermind. Whatever, you can do whatever you want.” He shakes his head, a defeated grin appearing on his face. She was kinda cute. 

“Yay!” 

-------- 

The rehearsal dinner comes a lot sooner than you wanted it to. 

The room is a lot louder than you expect it to be. There is a bunch of chatter and glasses clinking. Your eyes scan the room nervously, thumb rubbing on the glass of the champagne flute.  

You were very excited to officially have Minji as a sister-in-law but this only meant one thing. 

You would be facing Chanyeol tonight. For the first time in two years.  

The many therapy sessions prepared you for this, and yet you were still shitting bricks. You couldn’t help but spend an hour fanning your pits with the canva made menus you printed for the event. 

“He’s running late.” You nearly shriek when Minji sneaks to your side. She laughs at you and you slap her jokingly. “Relax. You’ll be fine.” 

"Oh god,” You chug the entirety of the flute and set it down on the table. “Do I at least look hot? Do I look like I have my shit together? Because I don’t. Seal didn’t eat her supper before I left. Maybe I should go check on her?” 

Minji slides the chair so she sits and places her warm hands on your clammy ones. “Yes, yes, and no. I promise you everything will go so well. Just breathe.” 

You release a slow exhale, keeping eye contact with Minji. You instantly felt better, that and the champagne was finally kicking in, giving you an extra confidence boost. There is only about an hour left to this thing. You can last an hour. Maybe you can convince Junmyeon to let you leave a bit earlier.  

Minji smiles when she sees you stand up from your chair and start to walk around the hall. You mingle with Minji’s cousins and whoever you can find to keep your mind off Chanyeol. 

It’s outstanding the amount of exhales and sighs you’ve audibly made tonight. Joohyun says you were ready to face him. You like Joohyun. She makes your brain organized. You trust Joohyun’s opinion.  

10 minutes pass... 20 minutes pass and Chanyeol is nowhere to be seen. 

You hate to admit it but you were disappointed. You prepared so much mentally that it felt like you studied for nothing. You thought that, maybe, if you were to see him at the rehearsal dinner, it would be a lot easier tomorrow at the wedding.  

It’s true that things don’t always go the way you want it to. 

“Junny, I’m gonna go now. I have to check on Seal.” You find Junmyeon and give him a quick peck on the cheek. 

“Okay. You should get one of those cameras so you don’t have to leave so early next time.” He frowns as he checks the time. It’s not even the end of the night yet.  

“I know, I know. I will.” You pat the side of his face gently. “Tell Minji I’ll see her tomorrow. She might not let me leave if I see her.” 

Junmyeon only nods before he wishes you a good night.  

You really did have to check on your dog. She usually eats her meals right away. It was weird of her not to.  

In an instant, you find yourself in the lobby of the hotel, waiting for the valet to bring back your car.  

The breeze from the outside urges you to look at the entrance. 

That’s when you see him enter through the revolving doors like clockwork. It was like a scene out of a drama. He was moving in slow motion and you swear there are cherry blossoms flying around him. His hair looked like it was slicked back but with time and sweat, had fallen back to its original state. He was sporting silver frames, a dress shirt and a black tie. He looked like he had just gotten off work and hurriedly got ready for this dinner. But you didn’t care, he looks as good as the day you left him.  

He’s frowning and moving hurriedly, clearly stressed that he is ridiculously late to his best friend’s rehearsal dinner. Your breath stops when his head turns your way. 

Then he smiles. 

Joohyun didn’t tell you that your heart would be racing this fast. She didn’t warn you that you would forget how to smile, shock overcoming you when he shows his pearly whites first.  

He points towards the exit and tilts his head. “You’re leaving?” He asks, looking a bit disappointed, and you simply nod with that stupid grin on your face. He’s as dreamy as the first time you saw him. Back when he was just a crush and you didn’t think someone like him would ever like a chaotic girl like you. 

He takes a step towards you and then stops to glance at his watch. He bites down on his lip and looks at you one last time. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

You nod, maybe a bit too quickly, but Chanyeol seems to love it, widening his own grin. 

You wait for him to disappear from your vision before you drop yourself on the receptionist’s desk.  

“Did I look stupid?” You ask the receptionist who is trying to suppress a laugh.  

“No ma’am.” 

-------- 

Your day immediately begins with chaos with Junmyeon’s first crisis.  

You go into sister mode and go downstairs to help him, leaving Minji in your apartment with the rest of the bridesmaids.  

“You called me to fix a button?” You raise a brow when Junmyeon hands you his blazer and a sewing kit.  

“Please, Y/N. It’s important to me.” Junmyeon pouts, shoving the items closer to you. Rolling your eyes, you grab everything and get to work.  

“Doesn’t Chanyeol know how to do this kind of stuff?” Your mind conveniently thinks of Chanyeol who seems to have an affinity with creating. You remember ripping your skirt at a club and he happened to have a small sewing kit in his pocket. He saved you from a night of holding onto your skirt. Though, he would have given you his jacket if you needed. 

“Yeah, but he’s only meeting us at the venue.” Junmyeon sucks you back down to earth from your reminiscing.  

“Right.”  

-------- 

The second mishap happens at the venue. The flower girl decided to have a fit right before she was scheduled to walk down the aisle. 

You pop your head through the door searching for a replacement. Your eyes scan the crowd for a kid, literally any kid, when you get distracted by Chanyeol at the end of the aisle with Junmyeon. 

Your heart rate increases gradually when you see how stunning he looks in his suit and tie. 

He catches your stare immediately as if he can feel it. His brows furrow when he sees the worry on your face and he very obviously mouths the words “what’s wrong?”  

“Flower girl.” You mouth back and pretend to toss flowers from your imaginary basket.  

Your heart does a little hop when he looks like he’s holding in his laughter at your attempt at charades. Feeling the adrenaline of having to find a replacement flower girl, you enter the room and look through each aisle for a child. You scan every single row to no avail. You sigh, returning to the back where the flower girl was throwing a tantrum. Maybe you could talk to her.  

You open the door and freeze. 

Chanyeol is already there: crouched to the little girl’s level, picking at her basket and taking a flower to hide behind her ear. She blushes with stars in her eyes, no longer tears. Your heart stutters when he stands up and holds her hand. His eyes find yours. He smiles and asks you where to go without words. You point to the front of the line where the bridesmaids were standing. He nods and leads her there before disappearing again behind the doors. 

You can hear yourself breathing loudly from the quiet interaction. He was so quick to come to your rescue. You didn’t even ask him for help. You shake your head: that’s just who he is, you convince yourself. It didn’t mean anything.  

There is a reason why he didn’t reach out, you remind yourself. He’s just being nice. 

You release a deep exhale before finding your place in line. 

You nod at the wedding coordinator and she starts the music. 

-------- 

It does not stop being hectic for you. Now that the coordinator knows that you are willing to help with anything to make her life easier, she has you doing all sorts of things. She has you placing name cards on tables, fixing bows on chairs, whatever task she desperately needed help with. 

You were eager to help, but it was now feeling like you were becoming the event planner and not the groom’s sister.  

“Y/N, I need you to stand here real quick and let me know when the vegetarian plate comes out.” She’s dragging you without even hearing your response. Now that you think of it, she didn’t even ask you. She’s ordering you to. You frown as you’re being hauled near the kitchen’s doors where the servers are coming out of.  

“I’m sorry, why do I need to wait? Isn’t that the waiter’s job?” You look at her with a confused expression on your face. She clasps her hands together in a begging manner. 

“Just please do this.” She says, handing you a walkie-talkie, presumably to call her when it does arrive.  

So, you do this.  

But you don’t like it. You’re sighing as you watch everyone else laugh and mingle. Your eyes find Junmyeon and Minji. They’re going to every table and taking group photos. You smile, you can’t believe you got front row seats to their love story. It feels almost bittersweet that you had to breakup with Chanyeol for them to get together, but if this is the outcome in every alternate universe, you would do it over and over again to watch them fall in love. 

You then find the man of the hour within the crowd. He’s sitting down at a table talking to a woman. There is a sudden twinge in your heart when you see her reach out to him and settles her hand on his forearm. And it feels like you’re back in the past, watching him flirt and be friendly with another woman in front of you. Not knowing how to steer away from the view, you watch them for a little longer before deciding this wasn’t healthy. You’re about to face away, distract yourself and find something else to watch. 

But then you see it. 

He lowers his arm and her hand falls into thin air.  

He dodged her hand. 

She’s a bit stunned but she continues their conversation, placing her hands back on her lap.  

All the fights you had about Chanyeol letting women get touchy feely with him and flirt with him rush back into your mind. The way you felt crazy for simply asking him to “not be so friendly, tell them you have a girlfriend, and to not let them fucking touch you”. He told you that he had to be polite and it would be rude if he didn’t hug them back.  

This moment... Just proves he was capable of that change. 

It’s upsetting to see that he was able to do this without you as his girlfriend, but you suppose you did change too. If this were two years ago, you might have thrown your heel at her from a distance.  

A waiter comes out of the door with an obvious vegetarian plate, breaking you out of your reverie. You mumble a quick apology before snatching the plate from his hands.  

Once you’ve run around in circles around the entire venue looking for the coordinator, you find her lounging in the hallway. Your jaw tightens as you watch her type on her phone, walkie talkie nowhere to be seen. You hand her the plate begrudgingly.  

“Oh thank you so much! I’m starved!” She exclaims, huge grin on her face.  

Did you just- Your eyes shut and you release a long and deep breath when you realize you just waited for her food like you were her personal assistant. This is not a fight you want to have today. You breathe in and slowly exhale, turning around to walk back into the reception and hopefully, enjoy your brother’s wedding. 

You return to your seat and finally get the chance to eat the (cold) chicken and mashed potatoes waiting for you. You honestly don’t care at this point. You’re just glad that the waiters didn’t take your plate away, considering everyone else was done with theirs. You take your first bite and practically moan, this is the best cold meal you’ve ever had. You’re so happy that everyone else at your table is elsewhere so you can be alone in privacy with this meal. It’s embarrassing at this point how aggressively you’re attacking it. You really hope no one interrupts - 

“Y/N?”  

You look up with stuffed cheeks and a gravy covered lip. You painfully gulp the remaining food down your throat when you see Chanyeol’s amused smile above you. You hurriedly wipe your mouth with the napkin on your lap. 

“Chanyeol.” His name comes out of your mouth for the first time in years. It feels uncanny on your tongue, like it’s meant to be said but you can’t believe you’re letting it come out of your mouth.  

“Can I sit?” He asks, already pulling out the chair beside you. He sits when you nod, giving him permission to disrupt your dinner. He looks nervous too. You can tell by the way he’s playing with his fingers, cracking them one by one.  

“Well, you’re hard to reach today.” 

You raise a brow and tilt your head curiously. “You’ve been watching me?” A smile creeps on your face slowly. 

“Kind of hard not to.” He’s looking at you with that cheeky smile of his, just like he used to when he teased you. It’s getting really hard to be cool and composed around him. You don’t know what to do with your hands either. The nerves get to you and you start picking at the gems on your nails. 

“How have you been?” You try your best to be confident, but it’s impossible to be when he’s looking at you with the same fond and kind eyes as he used to 2 years ago. You’re sure you stuttered the words. You can’t be too sure. 

"I’ve been good. I’m starting a new job next week. I’m going to be my own boss!” He says excitedly, fingers now relaxed. “And what about you? How’s the new doggie?” 

Doggie. 

Your brows furrow, taken aback. Chanyeol realizes your confusion and immediately straightens himself. 

“Oh! I just- Junmyeon mentioned you got a dog recently... I’m sorry. Is it weird to ask this?” He stumbles on his words in an attempt to save face.  

It’s your turn to sport an amused smile. It’s inevitable. He outed himself for asking Junmyeon about you. And you can’t help but be a menace about it. 

“So you’ve been asking about me?” You rest your elbow on the table, side of your face resting on the palm of your hand. Chanyeol exhales slowly when he watches your hair fall so nicely on your shoulders. He’s controlling himself.  

“I- No- Well, yeah.” He admits, his ears turning red in embarrassment. “What? You don’t?” 

"I mean, not anymore.” You raise a playful brow.  

Chanyeol snorts. “Fine! You caught me. How is Seal?” Your smile grows into the biggest and brightest grin when he says her name. He really has been asking about you. Your heart beats at a million beats per minute.  

“She has a bit of an upset stomach but she should be fine. What else do you know about me?” You’re curious now. Junmyeon had you convinced Chanyeol could not be bothered to even speak your name. Your thoughts run wild while you wait for him to give you a response. The DJ switches from an upbeat song to a slower love song, encouraging couples to flood the dance floor. Your eyes shift to the many couples standing up to join the newlyweds, a bit envious. 

You hear Chanyeol chuckle. You turn to see what he’s laughing at because he can’t be laughing at you.  

He stands up and reaches a hand out to you. 

“Come dance with me.”  

Butterflies instantly fill your stomach, fluttering crazily inside you.  

You nod and enclose your hand with his as you bite your lip nervously. He sends you that reassuring smile when he pulls you up, your legs unable to move on its own. You wonder if he can hear the deep breath you just took. His fingers feel the same, warmer even. Every ridge and vein are as how you remember him. It’s exactly as you left it. He is exactly how you left him. 

He moves you through the crowd and finds a spot for you two. Your hand settles nervously on his shoulder as his find a spot at the middle of your back. His eyes don’t leave yours and yours don’t leave his. You’re stuck to each other, afraid this moment will end. 

“Let’s see... What I know about you...” He starts, lips curving, eyes filled with fondness. “I know that you got your own place. Congratulations, by the way.” Your steps follow his pace easily as you waltz to the slow rhythm of the music. 

“Thank you.” You say almost too quickly, so you can hear more about you through his eyes.  

“I know you graduated with a 3.2 GPA. I know that you’re starting a new job, though Junmyeon hasn’t mentioned where. I’ll make sure to ask that next time.” He continues, his smile growing when he sees your lips curve. “Hmm, what else?” 

“I’m also single.” You add.  

The room immediately brightens the way Chanyeol beams at you. Your heart can’t take it. It’s beating so fast for him.  

“Huh, I guess I forgot to ask that too.” He jokes, pulling you closer to him. Instinctively, you lie your head on his chest. Chanyeol sighs as he lays his cheek against the top of your head. 

“I missed you, Yeol.” You mumble in his dress shirt. You can feel the familiar beat of his heart. He squeezes you tighter in his hold, never ever wanting to let you go. 

“You have no idea.”  

-------- 

After a night of dancing (slow and fast), you and Chanyeol slip out of the party and decide to split a cab together. He has an arm around you while you rest your head on his chest. It’s a bit insane how easy it is to fall back into his arms like this. You suppose it’s just routine for you two. You don’t want this night to end. You don’t ever want to leave the comfort of his warmth.  

When the taxi parks in front of yours, there’s a silence between you two, unsure how to say goodbye after the night you just shared. Chanyeol breaks it and bids you a goodbye with a quick peck on your temple before letting you go from his grasp. You bite your lip and find the courage to say the next thing that spews out of your mouth. 

“Do you want to come up and meet Seal?” 

Chanyeol blinks once, then nods like he’s hypnotized by you. He hands the driver cash before following you out of the car. You walk forward but leave a hand behind you and wiggle your fingers. You hear him jog to you. His fingers interlace with yours easily as if no time has passed.  

It’s not long until you reach your apartment, not once letting go of his hand, not even to unlock the door.  

“Okay, so, she’s a bit special. You’re going to have to wear my slippers and kind of let her sniff you or else she might not like you. She doesn’t really like men. She only likes Junny.” You warn him, looking back to see his brows raised in curiosity. You discovered her aversion to men when you would bring home dates and she would hide in the corner of your living room to get away from them. She had only been nice to one guy who wore your slippers and one her own, came to the conclusion that he must be friendly. 

You open the door slowly to see your grey blob of a dog sprawled in front of the door, close enough that the door almost hits her. She scrambles to greet you, jumping on you immediately and giving you one big lick at the side of your face. Chanyeol closes the door and catches her attention. She drops back on her four paws and tilts her head. The panic slowly sets in as Chanyeol struggles to find the slippers you were talking about.  

“Seal... Wait-” You say when you see her wiggle her butt. 

Seal doesn’t let him grab the slippers, tackling him with kisses before he could even lean down to swipe the pair. His back hits the door, falling from her weight on him. 

“I think she likes me.” He says on the floor with Seal snuggled on his lap, petting her gently. 

“Me too.” You smile softly at the scene before you. Chanyeol in his dress shirt with a crooked tie, blazer abandoned at his side, and your one and only baby girl together in your apartment.  

You lean against the wall and remove your heels. You don’t fail to see Chanyeol look at you in amazement. He could never understand how to remove them for you. In a daze, he gently nudges Seal aside to follow you to your living room.  

The room is decorated with warm colours, orange curtains, plants sprawled in different parts of the room. There’s a vinyl player with records hanging on the wall above it. The furniture seems vintage yet still trendy. It’s very you. 

He follows you as you plop down to your couch. He’s about to sit next to you when Seal steals his spot. He chuckles, settling for a cushion over. 

“I really like your place.” His eyes wander your apartment a little longer as his fingers tap on his thighs. “Did you decorate it yourself?” 

“Mhmm,” You nod proudly. “I got a lot of my furniture secondhand too.”  

“Oh, that’s really cool! It’s really nice. Very warm.” He nods with you and it’s silent again. You curse yourself for being so awkward suddenly.  

“Umm, would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Hot cocoa?”  

Chanyeol perks up at the sound of a hot beverage. But you think it’s because he’s glad you’re saying something to fill the silence.  

“Hot cocoa sounds really good right now.” He replies with a polite smile. With that, you quickly get up and get to work, heading to the kitchen and grabbing two mugs right away. 

You don’t realize you would be accompanied by two followers right behind you. 

“That’s a cute mug.” Chanyeol’s voice is low behind you. You turn to look at him. He’s leaning at the doorframe of the kitchen entrance with Seal by his side, her smile wide and tongue sticking out, happy to be included.  

“Thanks. I made it myself.” You don’t think anything of it. 

“Oh at the ceramic café?”  

You freeze. The memory of him picking up the two mugs rushes to your brain.  

“Y-Yeah.” You pour some milk into one cup. 

“I used to go there a lot.” He says casually. You pour milk into the other as you contemplate letting him know that you saw him there. 

“For dates?” Oh fuck. Why did that come out so easily? “S-Sorry! Don’t answer that. It’s none of my business.” 

Your focus is concentrated on the mugs. As you put one in the microwave, you feel Chanyeol approach you and reaches for the other.  

“No, not for dates.” He envelops your hand and you lift the mug together to set it next to the other. You retreat your hand first, feeling guilty for bringing out the old you. He reaches for the side of your face and gently nudges you to look at him. He has that reassuring smile on. The one that didn’t always work on the first try. And yet, it’s working now. 

“I just really, really liked decorating mugs.” He says before leaning in. You flutter your eyes shut, anticipating his kiss. He pauses. “Look at me.” 

You open your eyes at his request. 

His eyes scan every corner of your face, memorizing every detail as if he hasn’t been dreaming of this moment – of you for two years. 

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He mutters under his breath, like he’s talking to himself, convincing himself that this is real. That you’re really here in front of him. “Can I?” 

“Please.” 

His lips finally touch yours in the most delicate and hungriest way. He’s being careful with you like he’ll scare you away but you both know that you’ve only ever wanted each other from the moment you walked away from his car.  

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud when he reaches for your waist and pulls you in, deepening the gentle kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck as you attempt to pull him closer as well, but you end up getting on your tippy toes anyway. Chanyeol moans when you swipe your tongue against his bottom lip, begging for him to let you in.  

He grabs your sides and hoists you up onto the counter, careful not to hit any of the ingredients of the hot cocoa that will most likely be cold cocoa by the time you’re done.  

He nudges your knees and you spread your legs open, inviting him in instantly. He tugs your thighs so you can wrap your legs around his waist. He groans against your lips when your heat rubs against his clothed groin.  

The microwave rings, bursting both your bubbles. You lean back, breathless. He chases after your lips, hating the gap you just created. “Do you still want hot chocolate?” 

Chanyeol shakes his head, eyes still on your lips and tongue wetting his own, before hurriedly putting a hand on the nape of your neck and pulling you back so your lips were once again connected. “Your room?” He mumbles, tickling your lips.  

“The only room that’s not a bathroom.”  

“Okay, smartass.” Chanyeol chuckles as he carries you to your bedroom. He shuts the door behind him, leaving poor Seal on the other side. You’ll make it up to her in the morning with a long walk. Chanyeol drops you to the ground and turns you around so you’re facing the door. He undoes the ribbon of your halter dress, letting the satin dress drop to the floor with ease. Chanyeol releases a shaky exhale at the sight of your body.  

“It’s just like in my dreams. My perfect girl.”  

You feel yourself burn red hearing those words again. You’ve dreamt of this too. Each touch feels so real. It sends jolts across your spine. You watch as he grazes your waist, appreciating every curve you so graciously let him touch. Every kiss along your back has your knees weak. Chanyeol squeezes your breasts and finds your lips, kissing your mind away. You forget you ever lost him, finding this so familiar and routinely. 

He spins you around. “I can’t believe I ever let you go.” He showers your jaw with kisses. “I love you so much.” 

You flatline.  

The tears begin to well up.  

“Oh baby,” He holds your head between his hands and kisses you. “Don’t cry please. We should be happy.” 

“I just- I hate that I had to lose you to be better.” You say as he wipes the tears away. You bite your lips, pouting.  

“We both had to grow, my love.” He says, kissing you on your cheeks, your forehead, every surface he can find on your perfectly perfect face. “I’ll show you how you never really lost me.”  

He lowers himself and gets on his knees, settling his head between your thighs. He gives you a light kiss on your inner thigh.  

His eyes find yours as he kisses your warmth over your lace panties.  

“You’re so pretty like this.” He whispers so close to your skin. “Standing here… Waiting just for me.” 

Pushing the lace aside, he drags his tongue across your folds, long and slow, humming shakily as he takes in the reality that is you. His mouth opens a bit wider, taking all of you in as he laps your slit rhythmically. You can hear how wet you’ve become by the way he slurps all of your juices.  

Your head falls back with a sigh when Chanyeol starts sucking on your clit. He’s drinking you in slowly, taking his time to taste you, remember every single touch that makes you lose it. And he’s succeeding. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair.  

“M-More,” You manage to moan out.  

“Hm?” Chanyeol hums, sending vibrations on your cunt. “You want more, my love? I can do more. Tell me.” 

He circles your entrance lazily with his middle finger, waiting for your answer.  

“Yes please.” You say breathily. 

Chanyeol doesn’t need to be told twice. His mouth is back on your body instantly, pressing his digits inside of you. He’s adamant on giving you anything you want.  

The image of you struggling to stay up, your knees becoming shaky each time his tempo increases, fuels something inside of Chanyeol. He’s been craving this moment. The spark that reignited tonight was now in full flames. He wanted you and he is going to get you back. 

His fingers curve inside, hitting that familiar spot Chanyeol knows like the back of his hand. Feeling this move again, you know exactly what he’s trying to achieve. He wants you to unravel for him. You squeal, grabbing onto his hair while the other grips onto his shoulder. Your orgasm hits like a thunderbolt, sending jolts all over your body. He hums victoriously as you clench around his fingers, letting them stay inside you a little longer to feel every single pulse you make around him.  

Chanyeol barely had anything to drink tonight but was drunk off you. 

He finally disconnects himself from your body, coming up to reach your other set of lips. A switch was flipped in Chanyeol. He thought he wanted you before, but now, feeling you cum all over his fingers, he needed you. He needed you to be his tonight. 

And you, the same.  

You needed Chanyeol right away. You needed to have him inside of you, to fill you completely with him. You basically rip his dress shirt, not being careful with the buttons. You really don’t care. Chanyeol helps you take off the dress shirt and tie. You pull on his belt buckle and drag him to the bed. You sit down and pull him so he’s standing between your legs.  

His smile grows at your neediness, unbuckling his belt and removing his pants altogether. “You’re getting a little impatient.” 

“I need you, Yeol.” You whine, tugging on his arm to get him on top of you right away.  

Chanyeol chuckles at your desperate plea and leans down to meet your lips.  

“My love,” His voice is low and soft, but you can still hear the slight amusement in his voice. He holds your hands in his and pushes them above your head. “Look at you. So precious and so ready for me.” 

He lets go of one your hands and uses it to line himself up to your entrance, wetting his tip with your juices. You moan as he pushes a little inside, then pulls out. He repeats this until you’re squirming under him. He smirks when your free hand tries to move his so he could stop teasing you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He swats your hand away, putting it with the other in his hold so you were trapped.  

“Chanyeol, please.” You whine impatiently, body arching into his. 

He tsks, lips inches away from yours. “Were you always this whiny, hm?” He bites on his bottom lip as he looks at you watch his lips, wanting them on you without a single care where they go. 

“Were you always this chatty, my love?” You bite back, getting impossibly frustrated that he wasn’t just fucking your brains out. The smile on Chanyeol’s face has grown tenfold, loving that you just called him your love. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re giving him a bit of an attitude. 

He flips you around with a yelp. He’s still holding you by the wrist with one hand, your hands now behind your back as you try and take a peek. Chanyeol admires your backside a little longer before taking his other hand and squeezing one of your ass cheeks tightly. He leans forward and gives you a kiss; you whine when he leaves your lips wanting more. You attempt to wiggle your way out of his hold, wanting to turn around and take control. 

“Stay still, love.” He says, leaving traces of kisses along your back. He softly places a kiss on your spine, your lower back, and finally your warm cunt. His eyes shoot back up, knowing you’re still peeking behind, and he smirks, licking your folds one last time before he lines his hard member up to your entrance. “You taste so fucking good, baby.”  

He finally frees your hands but lets his body fall closer to yours so he was now over you, face inches away from yours. You lick his bottom lip teasingly. He bites his own before tackling yours, kissing you hungrily. It drives you crazy when you can still taste yourself on his tongue. But it drives you even crazier that he is still teasing you, rubbing his tip all along your slit, wetting his dick with your juices. 

Impatiently, you wiggle your butt and manage to get his tip slip inside of you.  

“Oh fuck, baby.” Chanyeol groans from the unexpected feeling of your walls around him. He thrusts into you and you take all of him, moaning inside of his mouth.  

“Yes, Yeol. Fuck me, pleaseee.” You beg him without any shame. You needed him desperately. There was never anyone that could fill you up so easily the way he does. There wasn’t anyone who knew how to get you off as many times as he did. You missed having somebody who knew you as well as he did. Most importantly, you missed him. 

“Baby, you’re taking me so well. Look, your walls are swallowing me so perfectly.” He urges you to look but only he has the perfect view of his cock sinking into your cheeks: a truly beautiful sight to see. His thrusts are slow and controlled, gradually sending you into madness as you’re feeling so much and yet, you still want more.  

Your ass moves as you attempt to speed up his pace but a quick slap to your cheeks stops you. Chanyeol grabs your hands and drags them near the sides of your face as he lowers his body, so his whole weight was on you.  

“Be patient, my love.” He moans breathily in your ear. “I want to feel every inch of me fill you up. I fucking missed all of you. I want – need to feel this all night, my love, please.” 

The butterflies in your stomach flutter from the sound of his voice pleading to take his time with you. You melt under him, turning your face slightly to kiss him. 

The kiss is slow and wet, taking your time to get to know the familiar shapes of your mouths and distracting yourself from the antagonizing slow place, but fuck did it feel good. He sucks on your tongue gently while he continues to thrust into you, deeper and deeper.  

His little grunts in your ear send you on a frenzy, and you moan in his mouth for more. Your headboard was hitting your wall at the same rhythm, leaving a mark on your freshly painted walls. Chanyeol’s mouth is all over your face, kissing every surface he can find. He buries his nose in your hair and moans at the scent of you. His pace quickens as your aroma fills his body.  

“Your smell is so – fuck – so addicting.” He swears between thrusts and you know he’s getting close. You try one last time to nudge him with your ass, but he grabs it with one hand and squeezes it tightly, not letting go.  

“Baby, you don’t listen, huh?” He scolds you, but you can hear the smile in his tone. He knows what you want. You know he does. In an instant, he picks up his pace, fucking you at an impossible rate, just the way you’ve been begging him too.  

Your hair is messy, sticking on his skin and yours. Your face is planted onto your pillow as he breathes heavily near your ear, grunting and moaning against your sweaty skin. It’s so quietly loud as you focus on reaching your high. He peppers your cheek with more kisses. You turn slightly to capture his lips onto yours for the finale.  

He hits that spot endlessly, pushing that button one last time before you’re falling apart all over his dick. You unintentionally bite onto his bottom lip, earning you a moan from Chanyeol as he fucks you through your climax until he fills your walls with his cum.  

“I love you so much, my baby, my love, my perfect girl.” Chanyeol stays inside of you for a bit, moving his hips slightly to push his cum deeper into you.  

“Yeol, I don’t think I can ever be without you again with how much I love you.” Your eyelids feel heavy but you smile through the drowsiness, in love with the way Chanyeol was caressing you and peppering your body with kisses. You feel like you’re finally home the way he’s holding your hand from behind. You gently stroke his pinky with your thumb. 

“Let’s try again, baby.” Chanyeol plays with your hair with his free hand, twirling a strand around his finger. Your gaze finds his eyes as he awaits your answer. He wants you and you want him. That’s for certain.  

But there’s a little voice at the back of your mind screaming at you to really think about this. 

“Chanyeol...” You say his name with a bit of uncertainty. 

"No, you can’t say no. You just said-” He lets go of your hair and really looks at you, slowly pulling out of you and flipping you around so you would look at him and he could knock some sense into you. “Please, Y/N.” 

His eyes are pleading, begging for you to say literally anything else other than that 2-letter word.  

It’s your turn to reassure him. 

“It’s not that.” You start, placing a hand on the side of his face. He leans into it, kissing the palm of your hand and squeezing it in his own. “I just... I was so toxic. Every time I saw you with another woman... I wasn’t - couldn’t think straight. No matter how many times you tried reassuring me. It wouldn’t stick. And I always ended up... hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I’m still learning and I- It came out a bit tonight when you mentioned the mugs... I don’t know if I can say that I’ll never be that way again. I don’t trust that I’m never going to freak out again. And you deserve to be with someone who is secure and won’t cause you anymore trouble.” 

His eyes soften, then kisses the tip of your nose. 

“Two years ago, you would have thrown that mug at the wall.” Chanyeol laughs softly as he wipes the tears you didn’t know you’ve shed. You exhale a sorry excuse of a laugh, not knowing where he’s going with this. The image is a bit scary yet funny. It’s comical to think that you wouldn’t even think to do that anymore. 

“Do you know why you’re my perfect girl? When I walked into Junmyeon’s apartment and saw you for the first time at the dining table ‘studying’ with your books sprawled open, music blasting from your laptop, and singing – god, you have such a beautiful voice, I think I really and truly fell in love with you right then and there. You’re so loud and chaotic. You have this- this immense energy that fills up the entire room that can’t be replicated.” 

He’s holding you like you’re the only thing in this room that matters. He’s looking at you with stars in his eyes. You can’t help but cry even more in his arms, overwhelmed by his love. 

“I love how intense you are. Of course, yes, I hated it when we fought but it wasn’t entirely on you. That was my fault too. I made you feel unsafe and uncomfortable with the way I acted with women. And I’m so, so sorry it took me this long to fully understand it.” He continues, thumb rubbing against your cheek gently. 

“I’m not saying we’ll be perfect as soon as we get back together.” He says with a smile on his face, tears also falling out of the corners of his eyes. “I’m saying that you’ve already come such a long way and we can only get better from here... I want to figure this out with you. I want to grow and learn with you. So please, by all means, freak out all you want, as long as we come back to each other at the end.” 

A soft laugh escapes your lips.  

You can’t help but take a look at the two years it took for you to get here. If it weren’t for Junmyeon, Minji, and Joohyun, who knows where you would be right now? If it weren’t for your desire to be better for him and for yourself, would this be even happening right now?  

You take one last look at Chanyeol who is waiting so patiently for you to say something, anything, before you tackle his lips. You feel Chanyeol’s lips curve into a smile as his hand slips into the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. 

It took 2 years, but you finally felt safe enough to go into this relationship with absolute faith in him.  

“Let’s try again.” 

Chanyeol’s lips are on yours in milliseconds, knowing that from now on, there would be no more leaving, no more suffocating lonely nights without you. He would do everything in his power to make you happy and forever his. 

You pull back a bit to study his smiling face, giving yourself a second to truly admire the man of your dreams. The man who has always shown you patience and love.  

He was yours. And you were his. 

And you will never let that change ever again. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve hung out with this group of people. It wasn’t unusual for you to be at game night. Jongin, Kyungsoo, Baekhyun and you. That was the game night gang.  

Once a month, you get game night. One game night with your 4 friends. 

It’s to your surprise that you see the familiar, tall and no longer lanky man sitting in your spot of the couch.  

“Chanyeol?”  

Your ex-boyfriend is here. In your spot.  

Your brows furrow. Chanyeol smiles sheepishly as if he knows he shouldn’t be here.  

“Hi.” His smile looks stupid. You wonder whose idea it was to invite him without asking you first. 

You move to sit across from him, choosing to sit on the carpet rather than a chair. Kyungsoo plops down beside you and mutters, “He just got dumped.” He’s leaning closer to you so can hear him, your shoulders now touching. “Baekhyun didn’t want him to be alone.” 

“Mm, I know the feeling.” You say aloud, looking in his direction, hoping he hears you.  

Jongin comes in with the board game in hand, setting it on the table. You get on your knees and help him place everything. Baekhyun shows up not too long after, sitting in between Jongin and Chanyeol.  

The tension is thick. You’re placing the hexagons a bit aggressively, very annoyed with the situation. No one is choosing to address the elephant in the room. They’re just watching as you angrily move the game pieces around.  

The game is finally set, and you drop all the different coloured packs in the center, free for everyone to choose.  

You take the red. Chanyeol takes the blue. 

Everyone picks their settlements. Nobody is talking but your actions are so loud – so angry and loud. Kyungsoo has to tap your thigh to check you. “Be nice.” He warns. You glare at him. But Kyungsoo doesn’t take your threat seriously, raising his brows to challenge you.  

"Couldn’t you have given me a warning?” You ask. This time, you look up at Jongin and Baekhyun. They look like deers in headlights. They knew this was coming. Jongin gulps, “It’s just one night.” 

Chanyeol is awkwardly shifting in your spot.  

“Ah, are you uncomfortable?” You shoot him a look, your anger quickly growing every second he reminds you of his presence. The first dice hasn’t even been rolled, and you were already crashing out. “But seriously, why was I not consulted?” 

“Because you would have said no.” Jongin explains. “Chanyeol’s our friend too.” 

“You should have uninvited me for tonight.”  

“You’re our friend too.” Baekhyun quickly says. “It’s been four years. Why can’t we all be friends? Like before?” 

“That is the result of your friend’s poor planning.” 

-- 

It was a Wednesday when your life changed. You were studying in the library after school. Normally, you would be studying with Kyungsoo but he promised to help Jongin with an assignment. Jongin was a year younger than both of you. He grew up with Kyungsoo; family friends since they were children. You knew Kyungsoo from sitting beside him in your first science class. You found that he was one of the competent ones, so you chose him for all group projects. The friendship came a little after that.  

Chanyeol’s backpack covered with rock band pins made its way into your peripheral vision. You looked up and shot him a polite smile. Kyungsoo and him were friends. Not really sure why. Chanyeol was like an energy drink while Kyungsoo was more like an apple juice – plain but sweet.  

You went back to writing your essay draft on your laptop.  

A folded piece of paper is being slid across the table and appears in front of you. Your eyes shift down. It has your name on it. Your gaze finds its way to Chanyeol who is looking at you expectantly. He wants you to open it. 

You sigh; you’ll never get this draft done.  

You unfold the paper to reveal a love letter. Your heart stops. 

You’ve never been confessed to before. 

You read it; your attention switching from the letter to a very nervous Chanyeol. You did not see any of this coming. Chanyeol was a year above you: a senior. He was an athlete, played bass in the school’s band, part of the yearbook committee. You could go on. Chanyeol lived a different life than you did. You had no idea he could be interested in someone like you. 

The only time you spent time together was at lunch time. It was Jongin, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, Chanyeol’s friend Baekhyun and you. But you mostly spoke to Jongin and Kyungsoo.  

So yeah, this came out of nowhere. 

The end reveals a checkbox. “Yes” or “No”. You cross out your answer and slide the paper back to Chanyeol. 

“What do you mean no?” Chanyeol says aloud, earning a “shh” from other students trying to focus. He bows his head ever so slightly before he’s moving his chair to sit beside you instead of across. 

“I mean, I don’t really know you.” You whisper. “And it would be inconsiderate to make things awkward for Kyungsoo.” 

“It wouldn’t be awkward.” He argues, furrowing his brows. “We’re all friends.” He slides the paper back to you. 

“You’re friends. We’re acquaintances.”  You slide it back to him, challenging his game. “Besides, this year is very important for college applications. I can’t be distracted.” 

“Just one date. I promise if you don’t have fun, I’ll stop insisting and we can go back to ‘acquaintances’.” 

It could be fun. One date should be harmless. 

-- 

Game night’s tension had grown tenfold. You were turning red while Chanyeol sank further into the couch. He’s a coward for keeping quiet. You want to call him out on it.  

“Do you have anything else to say?” You press, eyes shooting daggers at him. Chanyeol cringes, nose scrunching from the direct attack. "Did you think this was a good idea?” 

“It’s been four years...” He mumbles, barely audible for you to hear. Unfortunately for him, you are hyper focused on him, and you hear everything.  

“You never think, huh? We share a friend group and not once have we ever shared a room together. What makes you think I am now on good terms with you?” 

Oh god, Baekhyun mutters, his back retreated to the sofa. Chanyeol glances at Baekhyun who looks back at him apologetically. He exhales. 

“We’ve dated other people since. I don’t talk badly about you. I don’t understand why this still hurts you like this. Four years!! Our friends are tired of us.” He takes a pause. “They’re just trying to be good friends to me. I don't expect you to be my friend. But please. Try and put your feelings aside for them.” 

“Fuck you.”  

It doesn't take a genius to see that no one is taking your side on this. You storm out. 

-- 

10 minutes.  

You’ve been waiting for 10 minutes for Chanyeol to meet you after school. 

“We’re going to miss the bus.” Kyungsoo finds it weird that you’re not rushing with him. You didn’t tell him about Chanyeol. It was a precaution in case this date doesn’t go well.  

“Go without me. I have something I need to do.” You say, shooing him away before Chanyeol decides to be punctual.  

“I don’t know what you’re up to but just know, I know you’re up to something.” Kyungsoo shrugs, leaving you alone to catch his bus. Your attention shifts back to the staircase. Isn’t it usually the man’s job to wait for the woman on a date? Maybe not. This is your first date, after all. 

Chanyeol appears; a couple other friends are hovering around him. You wonder if he forgot about you. He finds you in the crowd of students escaping the confines of school. His smile widens and he raises his hand to wave at you. He goes down the stairs a lot faster than his friends and races to your side. “Hi.” His grin makes him look stupid.  

“You’re late.”  

“Sorry! Everyone needed something from me today.” He explains. “Are you ready to go?”  

You stare down at your hand: now interlaced with his. How’d he do that so smoothly? You nod, brows still furrowed, thinking too hard at the sudden physical touch.  

“Awesome! Let’s go!” Chanyeol is tugging you outside. 

Chanyeol is warm.  

Chanyeol makes you feel warm in the winter air. 

You decide the wait might be worth it. 

-- 

It doesn’t take long for Kyungsoo to follow you outside. You exhale, thanking the heavens for giving you Do Kyungsoo.  

He brought your purse you left behind in anger. You take it silently. He understands.   

You don’t exchange words for now. Instead, you walk in silence together. Your hands are shoved in your pockets. It’s freezing. 

Kyungsoo hands you a heat pack from his pocket which you also take quietly, letting the warmth melt seep into your hands. Your gaze is focused on the pebble you’ve been kicking since Baekhyun’s apartment. You wonder how far you could take this little guy. You accidentally kick it left. Kyungsoo kicks it back to your side. 

You halt, finally looking up at your friend.  

“Oh,” Kyungsoo rushes to hug you, noticing how tear-streaked your face had gotten. “I’m sorry. Baekhyun really thought it would be fine. It was very last minute. Chanyeol had no idea it was game night. He didn’t know you would be there.” 

He’s rubbing your back comfortingly. You can’t help but sob in his arms.  

“I promise I would’ve told you if I had known in advance.” Kyungsoo slightly pulls you away from him, making sure you see how serious he was. “Love you, okay?” 

You nod, wiping away the tears from your eyes.  

Four years... 

Four years and you were still crying over your first love. 

-- 

A first date at the buffet was definitely not what you had on your Bingo card for today. Chanyeol seems very excited to bring you here. The waiter shows you to your table. Chanyeol pulls the chair out for you. You raise an eyebrow, a bit confused. He sits down too. Maybe you heard wrong. 

The waiter leaves. 

“Alright,” Chanyeol stands up from his seat and rushes to your side, hand reaching out to you. You burst into giggles because Chanyeol’s attempt to be a gentleman at a buffet is hilarious. “Come on.” Chanyeol laughs with you, insisting you take his hand.  

You grab it and let him drag you around the buffet. 

You each grab a plate and go crazy, returning to your table with a mountain of food. You had noodles, fries, sushi, chicken wings, pizza, fried rice, calamari, hot dogs and a burger, just cause. Chanyeol had whatever you had but double the amount. Your jaw dropped at how high he got his stack. He could have just gotten another plate. Chanyeol doesn’t forget to pull the chair out for you once again, making you laugh over the same joke. 

“First date and I’ve already taken you around the world.” He says proudly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“Such a man of culture.” You laugh and this makes Chanyeol grin so intensely that you notice a dimple on the side of his cheek. Was that always there?  

"You have no idea!!” He beams, clearly proud of himself. “Dig in!” 

“I don’t know how you’re gonna eat all that” You say, concerned yet still impressed.  

“I bring 2 lunch boxes to school.” He pauses. “You really didn’t notice?” 

You sit at the same lunch table and he’s right, you had never noticed.  

“And you thought we were acquaintances.” He says, popping a fry in his mouth. “We’re barely even strangers.” 

You snort and choke on the bite of rice and hot dog, laughing at his comment. Was he always this funny? It was so easy to laugh with him. Slowly, you were starting to see the appeal of Park Chanyeol. 

The conversation was easy with him. Chanyeol made sure to ask you your favourite foods, your favourite subject in school, and whatever other favourites you might have. He looked at you like he was memorizing the moment. You were surprised at how much you were enjoying his presence. You found yourself leaning in closer to him when he laughed, catching yourself grin wider than usual. It felt easy being around him. You wanted to be around him all the time. 

For someone you had never thought to even spare a glance at, Chanyeol was impressive. 

-- 

“Thank you for walking with me.” You say, failing to make eye contact with your best friend. “Please tell the others I’m sorry.” 

Kyungsoo nods, smiling softly. “They know.” 

“Come here.” Kyungsoo pulls you in for another hug. “Don't beat yourself up too much about this. We understand.” 

“Thank you.” You give Kyungsoo one last squeeze before heading into your apartment building. 

It’s quiet. 

You turn on the lights to your tiny space and drag yourself to the fridge. There are tomatoes, green onions and eggs. You purse your lips; you’re not up for an omelette. Frustrated, you shut the door and grab a glass of water instead.  

You walk to your bed in your living room/bedroom/the all-of-the-above space and drop yourself on the pile of plushies. One in particular is staring at you, menacingly. You frown, turning the brown bear around to face the other side of the room. “It’s not you. It’s your dad.” The biggest sigh escapes your lips. Your hand rests on your chest, pressing down as you try to regulate your breathing. It was working well until you heard a vibration from your nightstand.  

You sit up to grab your phone. 

don't answer🪦: hey. kyungsoo said you got home safely. I just wanted to check on you. 

Your heart sinks. He went four years without checking on you. What makes today any different? 

You throw your phone on your bed in frustration. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? 

If you could, you would leave this place and start anew in a different country. Alas, you are just a college student and that will have to wait until after graduation. Your back retreats to your mattress, letting yourself stare at the ceiling a little longer. 

You didn’t want to see him tonight. You weren’t ready. You weren’t ready to revert into that insecure 16-year-old who believed Chanyeol’s promises. His awful little sweet lies. 

Your phone buzzes once more.  

don't answer🪦: im sorry about tonight. 

-- 

You only allowed Chanyeol to bring you here after you finally got your essay draft completed. He didn’t make it easy for you either. He was distracting, loud and purposefully making you laugh. He was lucky you chose to study in the cafeteria rather than the library. Otherwise, you would have never agreed to go on this second date. 

Chanyeol chose, to your dismay, the arcade. You don’t play games. And the arcade itself was overstimulating. The neon lights were so bright, and the sound effects were blasting through every game loudly. 

"Chanyeol,” You say, looking around the very loud atmosphere around you. “I don’t know if I’ll like this.” 

“It’ll be fun. You like games, right?” He smiles at you, resting his hand on your lower back. Your stomach flutters. You’re scared to move, afraid he might notice and pull his hand away. 

“Board games...” You say quietly. Board games are quiet. Board games don’t need obnoxious loud noises to be fun. 

“Games are games.” He says before he’s dragging you to the basketball hoops. 

“Here,” He inserts a coin in the machine. “I promise you won’t regret it.” 

You purse your lips, trying to resist the game. It counts down and screams “Go!!!”. You panic, grabbing a ball and throwing it aimlessly. It goes in. You turn to Chanyeol who is excited, he motions for you to continue. You grab another and throw it right in the net again. Chanyeol’s mouth is wide open in excitement. He’s shouting and encouraging you.  

“DOUBLE POINTS!!!!” The machine yells at you and something clicks in Chanyeol. He runs to your side and grabs a ball, helping you get twice as many balls in the hoop. Before you knew it, it was over. 

“NEW HIGH SCORE!!!” The machine celebrates, spitting out a bunch of tickets for you. 

“We might have just discovered that you’re a baller prodigy.” Chanyeol says breathily, smiling down at you proudly. You bite your lip embarrassingly, trying your best to suppress the growing smile on your face. 

This game flipped a switch in you because you were now scavenging for new games to play, to Chanyeol’s enjoyment. You find a booth. Curiously, you move the drapes aside to reveal guns. Chanyeol is shocked to see your eyes gleam at the scene.  

"Let’s try this one!” You quickly get in the booth and shove all the tickets you’ve accumulated on the floor. Chanyeol laughs at your excitement and gets in beside you. He closes the curtain and inserts the coins. 

The game starts and it’s set in a zombie apocalypse. Your reflexes are surprisingly quick. You’re so into it. You yell at Chanyeol to focus because he’s missed half of the team head shots. He starts laughing, finding you yelling hilarious. You get annoyed when he misses another combo head shot.  

“Chanyeol!” You yell, snapping a glare at him. Your gaze softens when you find him staring at you already. He smiles softly before placing a hand to your cheek. He leans forward, “What are you doing?”  

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He smirks, finding you cute. 

“Oh.” You pause. “Okay.”  

You let him come to you, his lips press on yours lightly, so soft and careful not to scare you away. There are fireworks forming in your stomach. Your first kiss left you breathless and wanting more. 

“Do you wanna play more games?” Chanyeol whispers, his forehead resting on yours. 

You nod. 

It doesn’t take long until you are able to afford the teddy bear sitting at the top shelf. 

-- 

"He’s going to be there.” Kyungsoo warns, looking at you carefully for a reaction. You don’t give him any.  

“It’s fine. It’s Baekhyun’s birthday.” You shrug, grabbing two purses and holding them up for Kyungsoo to pick. 

“Baekhyun’s first birthday with Chanyeol and you.” He points at the brown one. “I like this one. Goes well with your jeans.” 

“Whatever, as long as he doesn’t breathe my space, we should be fine.” You say, throwing your black purse on your bed. Kyungsoo winces, he got you that bag. It wasn’t expensive but not cheap either. “Sorry.” You say when you see him tense. 

Kyungsoo has always been the more careful one out of you two. You both were but you grew to be a bit careless through the years, courtesy of Park Chanyeol. 

“Ready?” Kyungsoo asks for the fifth time. You shake your index finger at him before whipping out your camera on your phone.  

“Mirror selfie! We look hot.” You set him in front of the new golden moroccan mirror you found at a garage sale. Kyungsoo turns around so he’s facing you instead. You smile, popping your hip out a bit more to create a curve. You place your hand on his shoulder while he places his own in his pockets. You snap the shot. Kyungsoo looks over and nods, grinning.  

“That’s nice.” He says happily. “Okay, let’s go. Baekhyun’s gonna freak if we don’t get these beers to his place soon.” 

“Okay.” You post the picture on your story. 

-- 

Chanyeol is helping slice limes in the kitchen when you walk in with Kyungsoo. You’re a lot louder than you used to be, shouting at Baekhyun for rushing you. He doesn’t move from his spot, instead he goes on his phone while everyone greets you warmly at the door. He’s tapping through random stories: food, hike, promo. It’s the same thing he always sees. He puts the phone down and decides to continue cutting the limes. 

And then he hears it. 

♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬゚。 Strike a pose. Hold it, don’t move. ♫⋆｡♪₊˚♬゚。 

It’s a song he hasn’t heard since high school. He looks over his shoulder at his phone and finds Kyungsoo’s story with a girl. She’s hiding her face with her phone and has her hand on his shoulder. Chanyeol looks up at Kyungsoo’s voice and sees you wearing the same outfit as the girl on his story.  

“Hey Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo greets him with a friendly smile.  

“Hey.” Chanyeol says blankly, before returning to his limes. He waits for Kyungsoo to head to the living room before checking his phone again. He holds onto the screen with his thumb and examines the story a little longer. This must be at your place. Kyungsoo would never own such an ornate and sophisticated mirror like that. His eyes are now focused in, getting every detail he can about your life. He’s not entirely sure why he’s so curious.  

His eyes find something. 

He zooms in, thanking the update, and finds the bear from your second date, cutely facing the mirror from your bed. Chanyeol notes that it’s away from the other plushies. He then realizes. Your username is at the top of the story. You unblocked him. 

Chanyeol is quick to click on your username. It brings him to a beautifully curated profile, memories of your life without him. There’s a coffee shop picture. There are many outfit pictures. You look nice. It’s a big difference from the school uniform. He observes the few Kyungsoo photos in your photo dumps, sucking in his cheek.  

“Chanyeol! Are you almost done? We wanna take a shot!” Baekhyun calls over. Chanyeol sets down his phone and brings the cutting board full of limes and salt shaker.  

“Here you go~” Chanyeol smiles, offering everyone a lime. Kyungsoo grabs one for you but you refuse. Chanyeol snorts, of course, you don’t drink. He thinks to himself. 

“Happy Birthday Byun Baekhyun!” You exclaim, grabbing a shot and putting it in the air. Chanyeol’s eyes widen. No chaser?! 

He takes his shot, not once taking his sight off you, completely impressed. 

-- 

You’ve been sipping on your Hennessy, sitting on the couch and observing the crowd. Kyungsoo comes back to you. He’s had many drinks and if you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t think he was drunk. You know for a fact he’s gone based on this interaction. 

“Have you met Suho?”  

A man with a bright smile appears before you. He has his hand out waiting for you to shake it. You laugh at Kyungsoo who is grinning at you, drunk out of his mind. You stand up and shake the handsome man’s hand.  

“You were supposed to top off my drink, Kyungsoo.” You tease him before sizing up Suho, looking him up and down. He’s wearing an oversized shirt, baggy jeans and a backwards cap. You must admit. Kyungsoo knows what you like. 

“I asked him to introduce me to you, if that’s okay.” Suho says, smiling at you. He doesn’t hesitate to check you out too. 

“That’s more than okay.” You say and Kyungsoo takes that cue to walk away, choosing to grin at you two from afar. 

“So, Kyungsoo tells me you’re a Communications major. How is that treating you?” Suho asks about you to your surprise. He’s sitting beside you now on the couch. You’re leaning back with your henny in hand.  

“It’s going well. I want to go in public relations. And you?” You tilt your head in curiosity, keeping your form on the couch. Suho shifts a bit, laying his arm on the top of the couch and finding his hand reaching for your hair. He plays with it absentmindedly. You don’t pull away. 

“I’m in finance.” He smiles, hoping that would impress you somehow. It does. “I hope I’m not being too forward. I’ve seen you around the campus before. Once I saw you here at Baekhyun’s, I had to come talk to you.” 

“No, you’re being perfect.” You smile widely. “Cheers?” You raise your cup and he clinks his with yours. Your eyes don’t leave each other as you take sips of your drinks. 

-- 

Chanyeol is leaning against the wall in the hallway. There is an uncomfortably perfect view of you and a guy on the couch. You’re laughing with so much ease with him. The sound of your laugh makes his chest tighten. He is hit with a mix of nostalgia, protectiveness and another feeling he isn’t entirely sure of yet.  

He notices the way he’s playing with your hair. He frowns, jaw tightening when he sees you tilting your head like you used to with him when he taught you something new. He missed seeing you look up at him with curiosity.  

"Chanyeol?” A small voice calls out, breaking his gaze. He turns to the sound and finds an attractive woman staring up at him like she has stars in her eyes. She laughs at his blank stare, slapping him flirtatiously. Chanyeol flinches at her touch, making him realize how much he hates this. 

He hates seeing you with that guy. It’s not his place anymore. And yet, he wants to grab you away and into his arms instead. He’s completely forgot that he was dumped just last week.  

Chanyeol exhales, gulping his entire drink and leaving the poor woman alone in the hallway. Chanyeol does something so stupid. Something so thoughtless. 

He sits in the opposite couch, right in front of you. You don’t notice him at first. But he waits, sipping on the newly refreshed cup in his hands. 

It’s only when the guy says something funny that you have to throw your head back and laugh that you see him. And he’s glaring at you. You raise an eyebrow and decide to return to your conversation with him. Unfortunately for you, the guy notices your distraction and turns back to find Chanyeol lounged in the armchair. Chanyeol smiles and raises his glass challengingly. He doesn’t say anything. He watches the guy whisper something in your ear. In an instant, you get up with him and you’re both heading out the door. Chanyeol shakes his head. He’s confused. Frustrated. You were supposed to crash out on him. You were supposed to care. You were supposed to spare him another glance. 

But you didn’t. He watches your figure disappear through the door. 

-- 

It’s game night at Baekhyun’s the next time the group (and Chanyeol) decide to meet. You remember to get there ahead of time to claim your space on the couch. Kyungsoo laughs at how unsubtle you are. You don’t care. You smile at him, teeth showing.  

“Why is she so giddy?” Jongin questions, bringing the new game to the table. He sits on the floor, letting you and Kyungsoo hog the couch. 

“She met Suho at my birthday.” Baekhyun grins, feeling proud of his accomplishment of befriending the finance major and inviting him to his birthday. “It’s been a month now. How’s that going?” 

Jongin gasps with the biggest smile on his face. “No wonder!! I can’t believe I couldn’t go!!” 

“What’d you guys do on your first date?” Jongin is excited. If there is one person that would be interested in the romantic cheesy parts of your life, it would be him. Kyungsoo can only hear so much.  

“We had hot pot then played pool. It was very chill. I like him.” You smile, the thought of Suho makes it hard not to. Jongin swoons. He decides the floor is too far for him. He gets up and nudges Kyungsoo to move which he does, annoyed.  

“That’s adorable. You love hot pot and pool!” Jongin exclaims, wrapping an arm around and squeezing you tightly around him.  

“Who loves hot pot and pool?” Chanyeol returns from the washroom and the room goes silent. Everyone is hiding a smile and Chanyeol figures out they’re talking about Suho. “You like hot pot and pool?” Chanyeol asks you before sitting down on the same armchair he once stared Suho down in. You shiver at the memory. You choose not to answer him. 

“Come on guys, we can talk about Suho. We’re all good friends –” “You're not my friend” You cut him off immediately. “Like I said, we’re all good friends and I expect to hear details from my very good friend about her date. Now, please share.” Chanyeol crosses his leg and props his chin on top of his palm. To which you fake a smile and simply say “No.” 

The guys laugh in unison. Baekhyun pats his friend on the back. “You’re being ridiculous, you know that right?” He mutters quietly for only Chanyeol to hear. Chanyeol fakes a laugh as Baekhyun moves past and sits at his feet. 

“This isn’t fun.” Chanyeol pouts, crossing his arm and sinking further into the armchair. 

“What are we playing?” Kyungsoo decides to change the subject, grabbing the blue box from the table. “Wavelength?” 

Jongin grabs it excitingly, taking the wheel out and placing it upright. He explains the rules quickly. It’s simple. Someone gives a hint and the rest need to guess where the needle lands on the wheel to get the four points. It’s one of the easier games you get to play.  

“Who wants to start?” Jongin asks, excitingly. He’s expressed how much he’s been wanting to play this game. The group finally agreed he could bring it.  

“I will.” Chanyeol sits up and grabs a prompt. He smirks at the first one and places it on the board.  

Everyone looks at you. 

You didn’t wear your contacts today. “What does it say?” You ask Jongin, but Chanyeol responds instead. 

“Bad first date on the left, Perfect first date on the right.” He says blankly. You can’t read his expression. 

“Dinner at a buffet.”  

He smiles at the memory. You don’t.  

“Oh, that’s left all the way.” You say, pointing at the far-left side of the wheel, wanting to hurt him the same way he did at his graduation.  

“I have to agree. Buffet just seems so childish.” Jongin leans over to the wheel and moves it all the way to the left. “Does everyone agree?” 

Kyungsoo and Baekhyun stay quiet. They’re smart to keep silent. Chanyeol and you weren’t playing the game; you were bickering like old lovers. 

“Just reveal it.” You say, impatiently, still staring at Chanyeol who reveals the wheel. 

The four points are all the way on the right. 

"I don't think you understand the game.” Jongin is the only one surprised, laughing at Chanyeol.  

“She knows what I’m talking about.” Chanyeol points at you ever so slightly, blink and you’ll miss it. You frown and steal the wheel from the table. You can hear Jongin mutter to Kyungsoo: What’s happening? 

“My turn.” You say before finding a prompt. You spin the wheel and reveal the placement you want them to guess. You place the wheel back to the table. “Green flag on the left, Red flag on the right.” 

“Disrupting someone while they study.” You say, eyes never leaving Chanyeol. You’re both in this weird competitive game that he started.  

Jongin hums, leaning forward to consult with the others. “I mean... It sounds like a red flag.” 

“And she likes to study,” Baekhyun adds. "But like, what do you mean by disrupt? Could it be like bringing snacks to the table? Because that would be a green flag.” 

Kyungsoo glances at you and reads you like a book. “I think it’s somewhere in the middle.” 

Chanyeol isn’t saying anything, letting the group take control of the conversation. He knows how annoyed you would get when he would “study with you”. He looks upset you would bring it up again. 

Jongin moves the needle to the middle but a little more green flag leaning. “Are we good with this?” 

Kyungsoo and Baekhyun nod their heads, agreeing to Jongin’s decision. You reveal the wheel.  

They get the four points. 

You almost blow your cover, wanting to laugh at Chanyeol’s utterly confused face. He really thought he was doing something, trying to be nostalgic. Kyungsoo leans back to smirk at you. “Oh, you’re mean.” He mouths, only for you to see. He brings his index finger out and swipes it twice with his right index. 

You shrug, “good job guys!” You’re smiling at Chanyeol who is now beginning to realize that this is your way of messing with him. He tilts his head and smiles. 

If you want to play, he’ll play. 

-- 

Chanyeol’s legs are resting on your lap while you organize your notes for your final. You were ready but with Chanyeol’s graduation being next week, you wanted to be prepared in advance. He’s scrolling on his phone: his memes are loud, but you’ve learned to tune them out.  

You lean back to look at the final draft. You smile at yourself then turn the screen to Chanyeol. He looks up, hearing you finally shift under him.  

“Wow, that looks really good.” He says, almost rehearsed. He’s been acting hot and cold with you lately. He has his legs on you, but he can’t even pretend to be happy about your notes. You understand it’s not exactly Oscar worthy, but it’s important to you. 

You think you should say something. You choose to stay quiet instead. 

“What should I wear next week?”  You ask carefully. 

“For what?” He doesn’t look up. 

You bite your lip, trying not to cry. You might be overreacting, but this feels like he’s growing bored of you. 

“Your graduation.” You respond quietly, careful not to spook him. You finally caught his attention. His expression softens as he notices your worry. And like a switch, you start tearing up when he looks at you. It just feels like an end is coming. 

“Baby,” Chanyeol moves his legs and crouches in front of you. He moves your laptop to the side. He has one hand on your thigh, the other rests on your cheek. He wipes the fallen tear. “Why are you crying?” 

“Are you bored of me?”   

“No!” Chanyeol is quick to deny but something unreadable flashes in his eyes. 

“Then why are you acting like this?” Your bottom lip feels like it’s shaking from how anxious you’re getting ready for finally confronting him. 

“I’m so sorry. I think finals just stressed me out. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.” He apologizes and brings his lips to yours softly. You're instantly comforted by him, feeling your shoulders release the tension you didn’t know you were holding. 

In that moment, Chanyeol dissolves all your worries. Even if only for a little while. 

-- 

mr do kyungsoo 🐧: im runnin a bit late. do u think i can pick u up at baekhyun’s instead? 

you: sure, wtv’s easiest for you. 

Luckily for Kyungsoo, you started getting ready for the night hours ago. Unfortunately for you, you planned to wear heels the whole night. You think for a second. Baekhyun is a good 15 minutes walk from your place. You can bring sandals and leave them in Kyungsoo’s car afterwards. You nod, agreeing with yourself.  

You angle your mirror so that your bed is in the frame. You’re wearing a long white dress with a slit. You lay down on your bed, boosting your butt up to prove you’ve been working on your glutes. Your legs are showing, moisturized and shiny. You cover your face with your phone and snap a shot.  

You review the picture and gasp.  

“I am so hot.” You hype yourself up before posting it on your story, leaving a caption: "@d.o.hkyungsoo i will be late”  

Ding - +1 notification: @d.o.hkyungsoo has commented on your story 

“can u pls start walking -.-” 

You burst out laughing before you run to the door to grab your heels, purse, keys, and sandals. You decide to take out your ID, leaving your wallet behind. You don’t expect to pay for a single shot tonight.  

You’re walking as fast as you can without sweating but it’s the summer and it’s scorching out. You take out the mini fan from your purse. You were hoping to save the batteries for later, but you are left with no choice. 

Kyungsoo is already parked in front of Baekhyun’s building when you get there. You rush to the passenger’s seat, opening it to find Baekhyun beaming at you.  

“What the-” 

“Sorry princess, you snooze you lose.” Baekhyun sticks his tongue out to rage bait you. You pout at Kyungsoo who looks at you apologetically. You shut door and head to the back to find Chanyeol at the very end. 

“You guys made the long-legged freak sit in the back?” You grin, finding his knees so close to his chest hilarious. You hop in, leaving the space in the middle empty. Baekhyun laughs hard and you know that this was his idea.  

“By the way, you look so hot. I had to rewatch your story to make sure it was you. We’re gonna get so many free drinks.” Baekhyun turns his whole body so he’s facing you. He gives you a thumbs up and you beam at him. Squeezing his cheek as a thank you. 

“You look really nice.” Chanyeol says casually, reminding you of his presence. You thank him quietly, your heart tightening at the compliment. 

You squeal when the door opens to reveal a very sweaty Jongin. He motions for you to move. Your eyes widen in panic. 

“It’s so hot, please move.” You move to sit next to Chanyeol, your open leg is now touching his jeans. You attempt to put space between you but Jongin is so sweaty that you’d rather be touching Chanyeol than him. You offer him the fan which he takes quickly. 

Kyungsoo starts driving while Baekhyun takes care of the music. Jongin passes you a water bottle and you take a sip. You cough, not expecting it to be vodka. Chanyeol pats your back, helping you clear your throat.  

“A warning, Jongin.” You glare at him. He knows you hate vodka. 

“Here, try this.” Jongin hands you a different water bottle. This one is brown.  

“Ah, so you do have redeeming traits.” You take a gulp, the drink bringing you comfort, you don’t realize Chanyeol's hand is now resting behind you, almost touching your shoulder. You do remember to share, passing the bottle to Chanyeol. Your fingers touch at the exchange; it sends shivers down your spine. You watch as he downs the cognac easily. You exhale, the attraction becoming overwhelming.  

Chanyeol leans forward to hand Baekhyun the bottle. You hold your breath. He is so close. You can smell the mix of sweat and his cologne. It was intoxicating.  

It doesn’t help that Baekhyun is playing the most sexual songs he could find. Desperate to remove those dirty thoughts of Chanyeol out your mind, you down the vodka. 

“Woah,” Jongin steals the bottle from you. “I know your tolerance is high, but we got all night to get there.” 

The rest of the ride is spent with Baekhyun and Chanyeol arguing and laughing over something childish. You don’t really care, focusing on other things. 

“You might want to tone down the fuck-me eyes.” Jongin whispers in your ear, careful not to let Chanyeol hear him. You gulp, you must be obvious if Jongin, of all people, can notice you. 

“Alright, we’re here. Give me that.” Kyungsoo shuts the engine off before stealing one of the bottles and downing it, hoping to get tipsy quick enough so he can sober up first. You hype him up, screaming for him to finish the bottle. Kyungsoo indeed finishes the brown liquor like a champ. “Let’s go!!” You shout excitingly. Chanyeol laughs at you before opening the door and waiting for you to come out. He extends a hand out for you. You take it, making this the first time you’ve held his hand in four years.  

Kyungsoo eyes you both, suppressing a smile as not to scare you. He finally gets a look at you and his jaw drops. He is already very tipsy.  

“You look stunning.” He spins you around, stealing you from Chanyeol who simply shuts the car door, not thinking much of it. “Come.” He drags you to the start of the line, much to everyone waiting’s dismay. 

You immediately get the gang in, your face card working overtime.  

-- 

Chanyeol is stunned by the way you’re carrying yourself. The you he knew was a lot more reserved, timid, and very much the opposite of who you’ve become today. He kind of loves it. 

The bass is loud; he can feel the floor shaking. It’s dim but he sees you in that white dress perfectly. The slit... He watches you move like you know exactly who’s watching. 

He knew you had changed but tonight, you’ve really proven yourself. Suho is a lucky man. 

Baekhyun leads the group to a booth. You dance your way there. Chanyeol can’t tear his eyes off you. It felt wrong but he, technically, was not doing anything wrong. He follows behind you, trying his best to focus on the music instead. 

It’s hard when you slowly back up to give the others space. Your back is so close to his chest. You’re so close, he can smell the vanilla in your skin. He tries to back up but he’s at the edge already, any further and he’s falling off the platform. “You okay?” You ask, head turned to him as you continued to dance. He nods, a little too quickly. “Yeah, you?” 

“Peachy.” You confirm. Chanyeol gulps when you turn your gaze forward and start dancing. Your hips sway to the rhythm of the music. Chanyeol is doing his absolute best to resist touching you. His hands are moving awkwardly, avoiding your body. 

His breath stops when you reach behind you and grab his left hand to rest on your hips. He’s never touched you like this. He feels so guilty. None of this feels real. 

“You're gonna get us in trouble.” Chanyeol mutters lowly in your ear. You look over your shoulder, your lips now in his vision. You are so close.  

“With who?” You ask before turning back to continue to dance. Your hand rubs his, encouraging him to keep them at your hip. 

Chanyeol exhales, letting himself fall under your spell. 

-- 

Suho and you broke up a week before today. You initiated it when you felt like he wanted something a lot more serious than you did. You realized that you weren’t ready for any of the things he wanted.  

He was ready to settle down, and you were just starting your life. This led to tonight. You begged the guys for a night out. You wanted to dress up nicely and just dance the breakup away. 

“Bring Chanyeol.” You suggested. And everyone looked at you like you had completely lost your mind. 

“Park Chanyeol? Your ex, Chanyeol?” Jongin tries to confirm, making sure you are not insane. You nod, laughing at their reactions.  

“He’s fun.” You say simply. Fun and Chanyeol should not be synonyms in your dictionary. 

Kyungsoo has an eyebrow raised at you, grinning at you because this time, he has no clue what you’re thinking. He’ll make sure to ask you privately what you’re up to. 

“I guess Chanyeol’s invited!” Baekhyun exclaims. 

-- 

Somehow, you have Chanyeol backed into a corner and away from the others, your arms are around his neck and his around your hips. His grip grew confident, no longer resting loosely. You’re staring at Chanyeol with a new pair of eyes. This isn’t the same high-school Chanyeol. This is one that works out, his muscles are being shown off in this black wifebeater. You exhale; it’s never been like this. You have never touched Chanyeol this way. And he’s never touched you like this. With lust. And so much want and desire. 

“You’re dangerous.” Chanyeol says, his neck lowered so you can hear him. “When did you become so confident?” 

You bite your lip and reach for his chin. You lower it and inch yourself closer to him. “Don’t worry about it.” Your lips brush against his before you turn around and grind against him. You feel his hand lower to the open slit of your dress. His warmth now touching your skin. His breath is warm against your neck.  

“I’m not worried. I’m impressed.” He’s speaking to you in such a low raspy voice that you’ve never heard before. You can feel him hovering over you. Your stomach is flipping, content to be in his embrace. “You used to be so...” 

“What? Uptight?” You scoff, laughing at him trying to find the words describe you. “I’m not here to reminisce. Just dance with me.” 

Chanyeol does just that. He dances with you to the slow songs, to the upbeat songs. It feels like it’s just you two in the room. Everyone else is irrelevant. Your heartbeat is thumping so hard, following the bass of the club’s. You wonder if Chanyeol can feel how strong it’s beating for him. 

He has you twirling around. You’re both dancing like idiots. It takes Baekhyun to force you both to take a break. You’re both laughing as you take a seat at the booth.  

“Where’s Kyungsoo?” You search for your best friend, excited to tell him everything.  

“He went to get you water.” Baekhyun says as he eyes both you and Chanyeol playfully.  

“Oh, I’ll go find him!” You get up quickly, still a little tipsy. Fortunately for you, Chanyeol has been paying for the shots. Unfortunately, you were too occupied to work for free shots for the group. Your dress stood no chance when your body craved Chanyeol’s. 

You are quick to find your best friend who is still waiting at the bar for your water. Like a magnet, the bartender comes to check on you. Kyungsoo’s jaw drops, offended.  

“Can I get you anything?” He asks you and you smile, letting him know that Kyungsoo has been waiting for some waters. He apologizes and you gain a free round of shots. Kyungsoo is suddenly no longer upset with the bartender.  

“Thank you!” You flash the sweetest smile you could come up with. Kyungsoo brings the tray back to the table. The bartender flashes a smile and welcomes you to come back when you need another. 

“Our girl finally came through.” Baekhyun beams at the free drinks.  

“Finally!! I was worried about Chanyeol’s card.” He says, patting his friend on the back. Chanyeol’s stupid grin tells you he’s exactly where he wants to be and no regrets were made. You share the smile, finding your way back to his side. Baekhyun is surprised at your sudden action, scooching over so he gives you the space beside Chanyeol. You plop down, smiling at Chanyeol, your shoulders now touching. Jongin and Baekhyun are doing their absolute best to hide the excitement, but it’s radiating out of their faces. Kyungsoo is the only calm one. He shoots you a small smile before raising his shot glass.  

“To our princess’ white dress!” Kyungsoo cheers, clinking his glass with everyone else’s. Chanyeol cheers with you, remaining eye contact with you. You both down the drink with no chasers.  

“You’re so beautiful.” He says, looking at you like he’s memorizing your face. You want him to kiss you. You want his lips on yours. You want him to make the move.  

He doesn’t. Instead, he looks away and exhales.  

Confusion rushes through your brain. You frown and purse your lips. You thought... 

Filled with anger, you drink the glass of water then head back to the dance floor. You find the nearest man who looked like they liked to dance and approach him.  

You spare one more glance at Chanyeol who isn’t even looking at you, too preoccupied with the empty shot glass.  

You feel like you’re at his graduation, waiting for him to look at you like he used to again. 

— 

You’re wearing a white dress, knowing how much Chanyeol loved the colour on you. He asked you to meet him at the library after the ceremony. You arrive earlier than he does, nervous out of your mind. 

Your worry diminishes when you find Chanyeol slowly walking his way to you, his robe is open, so you see the suit you picked out together. But he’s not smiling. The anxiety builds up again when he doesn’t reach to hug you or lean in for a kiss.  

You’re breathing heavy now, unsure of what’s happening. 

He says your name. It’s not in a positive or a negative tone. It’s neutral. 

“I’ve been thinking about us…” Chanyeol starts, now avoiding eye contact with you. 

Oh god, it’s happening. You think to yourself. He’s breaking up with you. 

“Now that I’m going to college. I thought it would be a good idea to take a break from us. I have so much love for you, but I think it would be best if we separated.” He says it all in one breath like he’s been rehearsing this the whole day. 

You feel the tears well up in the corners of your eyes but you don’t let it. You stay strong. 

“Okay.”  

-- 

Chanyeol doesn’t notice you’re gone at first. He thinks you’re coming back. He’s still replaying the way your lips almost brushed his, how close you were all night, the way you were waiting for something, anything from him and he didn’t give it to you. He frowns, examining the shot glass.  

When he looks up, you’re not back yet. 

You’re far away. On the dance floor again. Without him. You are instead in the arms of another man, moving freely. And looking so good. God, do you look good. He thinks of the man being able to smell the vanilla on your skin.  

Chanyeol’s stomach drops at the thought.  

“What just happened?” Jongin is leaning forward, squinting at the same image Chanyeol is watching. “Weren’t you guys-” 

“Yeah, they were.” Baekhyun says flatly. 

Kyungsoo exhales, already aware of the situation. He’s not surprised or angry, just disappointed and tired. Chanyeol attempts to stand up, then sits back down. Up, then down. It’s painful to watch. His chest feels heavy like his heart is weighing him down, afraid you’ll reject him. 

“I’m so confused.” Jongin is the only one asking the questions. The two others already aware of Chanyeol’s idiocy. “You guys were dancing for hours. You were attached to the hip. What did you do??”  

Chanyeol is back in his seat, turning his attention to Jongin. “Nothing!”  

Baekhyun looks offended. “Exactly, you did nothing. You idiot.” 

“What was I supposed to do? Kiss her?” Chanyeol defends himself, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I can’t do that to her. You guys are acting like I’m a villain.” 

"Oh my god, you’re, like, actually stupid.” Baekhyun rubs his temples, frustrated with the whole situation.  

“What?” Chanyeol snaps, very offended by Baekhyun’s comment. “She’s with Suho! I have to respect that. I don’t even know if what we did on the dance floor was technically allowed. God, we were so close...” He mutters the last part, almost audible for the guys to hear, but really, it’s only for him.  

Baekhyun freezes. He turns his attention to Kyungsoo who is suppressing a smile then to Jongin who is deeply confused. He laughs. Chanyeol’s brows furrow, sharing the same frown as Jongin. 

“They broke up last week.” Baekhyun says casually, doing his best to stop his laughing. 

“What?” Chanyeol asks quietly. He’s not sure he heard him right. 

"She planned tonight. She wanted to blow off some steam and dance her little heart away.” Baekhyun gestures to you, where she’s wrapped up in someone else’s arms. Chanyeol feels another sting to his heart. “She told us to invite you.” 

Chanyeol can feel his stomach turn. He feels sick.  

You encouraged the closeness. You wanted him near you. You wanted him to touch you.  

You initiated everything. 

You waited for him to kiss you and he didn’t.  

“You literally had her in your arms.” Baekhyun says, making Chanyeol want to throw up even more. He looks up at you again, watching you laugh at whatever that man was saying. He watches as you glow, your smile illuminating the whole club.  

His legs finally decide for him. There is no hesitation. There is no pause. There is no time to think. By the time he realizes he's moved, he’s already behind you, watching the man whisper something, apparently, hilarious. 

The man notices Chanyeol first. His smile disappears and he leans in to whisper something in your ear. You finally turn around to face him. 

He swallows, “Can we talk?” 

-- 

It usually feels nice to be out in the summer night. It’s hard to enjoy it when Chanyeol is just standing there, not saying anything. 

“Did you bring me out here to stare at me?” You’re the first to break the silence, waiting for Chanyeol to say something. Your arms are crossed in front of you. 

“What?” It’s like you snapped him out of a trance. 

“You asked to talk but you’re just staring at me.” You say nonchalantly. The summer cold breeze feels nice on your skin. It’s sobering you up. “If you have nothing to say, I’d really appreciate going back in there and getting shitfaced.”  

“I was trying to be respectful.” Chanyeol finally says something. He’s standing with his hands in his pockets.  

“Your hands were on my thigh. Respectful to who?” You laugh, finding his excuse to be a bit ridiculous. “What kind of girl do you think I am?” 

“I don’t know! You changed a lot.” Chanyeol is quick to defend himself. You scoff, clearly he hasn’t changed. “I didn’t want to put you in a bad position with Suho-” 

“So, after letting me grind on you, practically dry hump you, you decided it was a good idea to... what? Not kiss me? That’s where you draw the line?” You’re smiling but you feel like you’re going crazy. “You have to stop deciding what’s best for me.” 

His mouth opens. Then closes. 

“That’s not fair.” He says, frowning. “I didn’t know you were broken up.” 

“I get it.” You pause. “But I’m not 16 anymore. You don’t need to be careful with me. I can decide what I want. And tonight, I wanted you. But clearly, you didn’t feel the same.” 

Chanyeol just stands there, listening to you express yourself. 

“You’re the one who taught me that if someone wants to leave, you let them. So, let me leave now. You’ve made yourself clear.” You’re no longer the girl who would hold in her tears. You don’t need to cry to explain how you feel. You turn back to the club, finished with what you had to say.  

Chanyeol frowns and is quick to follow you. “Wait,” He says in a rush to get you to halt. “I do want you. I’ve wanted you ever since you yelled at me at that first game night.” 

He comes in front of you, staring deep into your eyes now. He’s looking for your okay to continue. You just stay quiet and in place, not making any attempts to walk around him. 

He takes that as a go ahead. 

“Just... Give me some credit here. You’ve changed a lot in the past four years. In the best way possible.” 

You tilt your head, unimpressed. “Is that all you have to say?” 

“No,” He replies quickly. “I don’t think I was in love with you back then.”  

“Ouch.” You interrupt again. 

“I’m not done.” He says, putting a hand up to you. “I did have so much love for you. But that love felt safe and predictable. You were always so careful and reserved, scared to say the wrong thing. It felt like you were never going to tell me how you really felt.” 

You blink, staying quiet and no longer interrupting him. 

“So I think that’s why I pushed you away, even though I still cared for you. I decided separation was better for both of us without consulting us. It’s what made sense at the time.” He continues. “I know now that; I was probably just scared. Scared you wouldn’t understand where I was coming from.”  

He exhales, the heaviness in his chest finally being lifted after these four years. “Seeing you again, at that game night... You were so loud and passionate. I had no idea you had it in you. I always thought I would be the one to bring it out of you... and somehow you did it without me.” 

He approaches you, not touching you but close enough to feel each other’s warmth.  

"I think I’ve fallen for you.” He admits, searching for any hint of joy, sadness, love in your eyes. He can’t read you. “I love how confident you’ve become. I love that you take charge. I love how you aren’t afraid to call me out.”  

You’re speechless.  

“I don’t expect you to instantly be mine or whatever.” He says, biting his lip. The streetlights shine over him and you’re finally seeing him. “You don’t need to decide anything tonight. I’m fine with just dancing with you all night.” 

You smile widely, locking your arms around his neck. You stand on your tip toes and Chanyeol is quick to take his hands out of your pocket and rest them on your lower back, supporting you. He leans down and pauses, letting you take charge this time. His eyes find yours and they are shining under the moonlight. He smiles when you pull him closer and press your lips on his softly. You move your lips slowly, your heart beating out of your chest.  

Chanyeol pulls you in tighter, wanting more of your taste. You let go, leaving you both breathless. He‘s chasing after your lips. “I think the others might get worried.” Chanyeol absentmindedly nods and follows you back in the club hand in hand.  

-- 

Unbeknownst to you, Kyungsoo managed to get all of you in the car that night. You spent the entire night in Chanyeol’s hold, never once letting you go. He held you as if he was promising you he wouldn’t.  

You never expected to want to be in his embrace ever again. When he showed up at game night the first time, you hadn’t realized how much you still cared. Before you knew it, you were looking forward to seeing him at these hangouts. You looked forward to arguing with him. You were excited to tease him.  

Tonight, you just wanted to be with him with no expectations. 

Jongin and Baekhyun went in Baekhyun’s room while you and Kyungsoo shared the spare bedroom. Chanyeol had volunteered to sleep on the couch. Kyungsoo had to rip you from him, insisting that Chanyeol needed a sleeping buddy too. Your best friend was not having any of it. He knew the two of you would not be getting any sleep if he allowed this. 

“Don’t sneak out. Go to sleep.” Kyungsoo warns as he tucked you in bed extra tightly, you felt like you were in a stray jacket. ”Say it. Say you won’t go and see Chanyeol. You both need to sleep.” 

“I will not sneak out to see Chanyeol.” You lie through your teeth. You can’t tell if Kyungsoo believes you but he shuts his eyes, exhausted. 

You wait until his breathing settles and you’re sure he’s knocked out. You slide out of bed, making sure to not make any sounds. You place a pillow in your place as if that does anything. The biggest smile creeps up on your face when Kyungsoo doesn’t move. You tiptoe to the living room to find Chanyeol lightly snoring on the couch, a blanket barely covering his body, leaving his feet uncovered. 

You slide the blanket off his body and smile at the little scrunch on his face, annoyed at whoever is waking him up. His face softens when he sees you. He pulls you in so you’re now straddling him. His hands move to your cheeks; he’s beaming, face glowing at the sight of you on top of him.  

“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” Chanyeol speaks softly, as not to wake the others.  

The mischievous smile creeps back on to your face. “I miss you.” You lean down to peck him on the lips. He hums, tired.  

“I miss you too.” He pats you on the head so you lay on his chest. He moves a bit so you find the space beside him. You’re now in between the couch and him, your legs tangled with each other’s. You see his eyes start to shut, you pout, tapping on his nose to wake up. 

“Don’t sleep.” You say, wanting to talk to him a little bit longer. “When we wake up tomorrow, we won’t be alone.” 

He chuckles, “Okay.” He thinks for a second. “What’s your favourite colour?” 

“What?” You start laughing quietly, in disbelief of his question. He’s giggling with you, knowing how ridiculous he sounds.  

“Answer quick before I fall asleep.” He says, trying not to shake too hard from laughter. 

“Blue.” You say, rubbing his chest absentmindedly, not thinking too much about your answer. 

“You never pick blue when we play Catan.” Chanyeol looks at you with a bewildered look.  

“That’s because I didn’t want you to get your favourite colour.” You giggle, smiling like a crazy person.  

“Oh, you’re insane.” He whispers, his laughter shaking you both. 

“And yet, you fell in love with me right then and there.” You whisper back, lips tickling his jaw before you kiss it softly. You hear his heartbeat grow faster.  

“I know, I must be equally insane.” He squeezes you closer if that’s even possible, his hand is playing with the shirt Baekhyun offered you. It’s bothering him a bit that you’re not in his clothes, but that’s a discussion he’ll choose to bring up later.  

You’re both suddenly aware at how quiet it is. The window offers the city’s night lights, twinkling softly into Baekhyun’s living room. There are no interruptions. It’s peaceful.  

“Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if we just...” You pause, a bit nervous to ask. “continued to date?” 

Chanyeol is quiet. You can see the gears turn in his head. 

“Yeah,” He finally responds. His fingers are now playing around your wrist that’s resting on his chest. “But I don’t think we’d ever end up like... this.” 

You tilt your head up and raise an eyebrow at him. “Like what?” 

“Like... Comfortable with each other. Comfortable to yell and express ourselves. Comfortable to admit when we’re wrong. Sixteen-year-old you would have never scolded me like that.” He explains, and unfortunately, you agree.  

"I was really upset that day.” 

“I know.” He takes a deep breath before kissing you on your forehead. “I’m sorry.” 

“I missed you though.” You admit, smiling in his chest.  

"Did you? You had me blocked everywhere.” He laughs in your hair. “I think I tried typing your username at least once every month to see if I was free.” 

“Well, that’s embarrassing.” You pretend to try and get up. He laughs, pulling you back down to rest on him.  

“You’re so annoying.” He teases you before the sleep starts taking over. You watch as his eyes flutter, doing his best to resist the temptation.  

“You can sleep if you want.” You suggest, not really caring if he does or doesn’t, as long as you’re still in his arms when the morning comes.  

“I can stay up.” He whines, now hugging you like you are his personal teddy bear. 

“You’re sleepy.” You say shortly.  

“One more kiss.” He tilts your chin up slightly with his finger.  

You smile, reaching up to kiss him. Your lips find each other again, finding your rhythm immediately. It’s slow and deep. You don’t want the kiss to end, not wanting to say good night just yet. He reaches for your leg and pulls it softly over him so you’re back to straddling him. You can feel his member under you. You moan when it rubs against your heat. You’re both not letting each other breathe. 

His hands are now massaging your bottom, making you move against him. He groans softly on your lips, hands tightening, never wanting to let go of you. 

You slide your fingers down his pants. You find his member and start stroking slowly, lips sealed to his. You’re both trying your best to keep quiet, moaning in each other’s mouths like it’s helping. His hands move from your ass to your wet slit, pushing aside the boxer shorts.  

He takes a peek at your underwear. You’re wearing a red thong underneath, to Chanyeol’s delight. 

“I don’t know how I feel about you wearing this under Baekhyun’s clothes.” He says finally give you both a second to breathe. 

“Shut up.” You attack his lips again, feeling like they’re getting numb.  

Chanyeol slips one of his fingers inside you, then another, and then a third. Your mouth opens in ecstasy, unable to keep out with the makeout session. Chanyeol definitely never touched you like this before.  

You’re both stroking each other to the same rhythm, muffling your moans in each others bodies. Your face is hiding in his chest while his is in your hair. 

“Fuck,” You feel yourself getting close. “Can you fuck me already?” 

Chanyeol is quick to listen, taking out his cock for you to sit on.  

“My princess,” He says, kissing your neck. “Your carriage awaits.” 

You snort before lining yourself up with his dick. You slowly come down on him, so wet that it slides in easily. Chanyeol’s grip around your hips tightens as you take him whole. He starts thrusting into you, slow but with intention. You move with him, building a rhythm together. He’s moaning your name in your ear, the rhythm slowly increasing in speed. You’re both a mess, trying to catch each other’s climaxes.  

“Come here,” He motions for you to kiss him before he starts fucking you harder, his arms are wrapped around you tightly. You want to scream, groan, moan anything. You’re grabbing his hair as you feel your release. A tiny squeal escapes from your lips as you tighten around him. Chanyeol continues to thrust into you, finding his own. You feel his cum cover your walls and his grip loosens.  

“That was a good kiss.” You tease, finding your breath. He chuckles quietly. He tiredly reaches for the tissues on the table and cleans you up.  

“Good night.” He kisses the top of your head. 

You both fall asleep within seconds. 

— 

Kyungsoo is the first one to wake up. He isn’t surprised that you’re not anywhere near the bed. He grabs his glasses and slowly creeps up to the living room. 

He pauses and chuckles softly at the scene before him.  

You’re sleeping on Chanyeol’s chest on the couch. Your arms and legs around his body. The blanket is no longer on any of you.  

"Figures,” He mutters, grabbing the blanket and draping it over you. He shakes his head before returning to the bed to catch some more sleep. 

-- 

“Fuck,” Baekhyun exclaims, waking both you and Chanyeol up.  

“Why? What happened?” Jongin trails behind him, his hair sticking up in different angles. He follows Baekhyun’s line of vision and his jaw drops at the view of you and Chanyeol scrambling out of the couch. 

“I owe Kyungsoo $20.” He says, sadly. “Happy for you guys though.” 

Kyungsoo shows up in the living room. “Oh good, everyone’s up. I can make us breakfast.” He puts his hand out to Baekhyun who is confused. Baekhyun reaches for his hand which Kyungsoo quickly slaps away. 

“My 20.” He says flatly. Baekhyun groans before grabbing his wallet in his room. He places the bill in Kyungsoo’s hand begrudgingly. He then turns to you and says, “You can keep the clothes by the way.” 

You throw a pillow at Baekhyun before Chanyeol hugs you from behind, finally feeling at peace.  

☆ — junmyeon

gently and slowly at first—his lips finding your inner thighs before his tongue makes contact with your slit. his breath is already ragged at the first touch, like he really wants everything at once.

“so beautiful, so soft.” junmyeon’s praises are endless… until he’s making out with your cunt. his hands slide down your legs, resting them on his shoulders, sinking deeper between your thighs.

junmyeon definitely doesn’t want to hide how lost he is in you and your taste. moans escape his lips as he laps you up like a hungry animal, burying his nose in your clit just before parting your folds with his own fingers, letting his tongue explore your entire slit.

junmyeon won’t stop you. he loves it when your hips sway over his mouth, or when your hands can’t help but grip—or pull—his hair, yes… especially when your thighs press against his face as he’s assaulting your clit—trapping it between his lips, sucking, and moving his tongue in a madness circled rhythm—all to give you pleasure.

he’s obsessed with those little moans and how your body starts to lose control just before reaching its limit—shaking, gasping for breath. rest assured, junmyeon won’t stop until you cum for him, and when it happens, he’ll make sure to drink every drop as if it were the most delicious elixir he’s ever tasted, licking and sucking every drop.

as if that weren’t enough, he continued kissing your thighs, your sensitive bud, until he reached your abdomen on a gentle, slow trail of wet kisses. he looks up at you, his face is flushed, his lips swollen, and that knowing smile tells you everything: he’s completely obsessed with the way he just made you break.

☆ — minseok

sloooow burn. minseok approaches you with a steady, burning intent that makes your skin prickle before he even touches you. he takes his time, his mouth trailing downward in a path of fire. he leaves a map of darkening marks along your waist and across the soft skin of your belly, his teeth grazing you just enough to leave a reminder.

minseok hooks his fingers into the lace of your panties, pulling them down, slowly, pressing his lips against your inner legs with soft kisses. he observes, loving the way your lips part as you wait for him.

minseok grant it—starting with soft, delicate kitty licks along your folds. the first contact of his tongue is light, teasing, and maddeningly brief, sending a fresh wave of tremors through your entire body.

as minseok hears those broken whimpers escape you, his composure finally starts to fray. he sinks deeper, his hands sliding under your hips to lift you toward him. he buries his face in your cunt, his tongue shifting from those light, teasing touches to a broad, firm lap that claims you entirely. yes, he lets you guide him because his mouth becomes a frantic, hungry thing as he sucks and swirls with a rhythm that pushes you right to the edge.

“my sweet girl.” his voice is a low, gravelly vibration between your thighs, letting you shatter.

after cleaning you, minseok will work his way back up in a slow trail of wet, messy kisses to your lips, murmuring how much he loves you. of course, he doesn’t pull away at any moment; he stays there, holding you close, more romantic, more clingy than before.

☆ — yixing

he knows your body better than you do, his hands mapping out your skin—slow, his lips ghosting over your breast, your abdomen. there’s a raw, unraveled edge to his breathing that tells you his restraint is paper-thin.

“i know how you like to be touched, babe,” he raps against your skin. “don’t hide it.”

yixing takes off the rest of your clothes with a steady hand, his eyes never leaving yours, loving the way you whimper under him. he leaves a trail of deep marks along your body, especially along your inner thighs.

oh, and when yixing finally met your pussy, he’s obsessed. he gives you those firm licks, watching with a predatory satisfaction as you begin to tremble. he knows that specific tremor is the signal that he’s already won.

he buries his face between your thighs, his hands sliding down to grip your legs and hike them over his shoulders. he sinks deep, his tongue lapping you with a hungry madness. yixing’s a man unraveled. he loves a little too much when your body shivers as his mouth plays with your clit.

“lemme see how much you can take, love.” his fingers part you wide, exposing every sensitive inch to his relentless tongue, and then, he slides two of his fingers inside your cunt.

his fingers and mouth will work hard enough to make you a moaning mess, lacking control of your own body. he knows you want more, so he traps your clit between his lips, sucking with a merciless intensity that makes your vision blur. his fingers push you further than you thought you could go, dragging out the pleasure until you’re gasping, your thighs crushing against his face as you finally reach your limit.

when you cum, yixing cleans you with his own mouth, drinking you in like a thirsty man, his tongue making sure to savor every drop. he knows you’re sensitive; your whimpers confirm it when he pulls his fingers out, immediately finding your mouth to make you taste yourself on his lips.

“you were perfect,” he whispers, his lips curving in a smile and his thumb tracing the curve of your hip.

☆ — baekhyun

he’s sharp, playful, but incredibly possessive. baekhyun doesn’t need to guess; he knows exactly where you’re at, and he’s going to use that to make you lose your mind.

his hands are moving over you with a confidence that says he knows you too well. he skips the formalities, his mouth meeting yours in a deep, wet collision before he breaks away to leave a trail of damp, marking kisses all over your throat and chest.

“you’re already so whiny for me, huh?” he chuckles.

baekhyun loves the chase. he strips you with hunger, his eyes dark. he doesn’t dive in immediately; instead, he changes his tactic to maximize the torture. while his mouth marks your inner thighs with bruising kisses and the occasional sharp nip of his teeth, his thumb finds your clit. he rubs it in a relentless, agonizingly perfect circle, watching you unravel under his hand.

“you like that? or… you want my mouth there instead?”

baekhyun buries his face between your thighs, his tongue a total takeover. his hands reach up to guide your own fingers into his hair, forcing you to hold him there while he works. yes, he’s hungry. he laps you up with broad, wet strokes, his nose grinding against you while he talks dirty against your skin, moaning softly.

baekhyun loves it when your hips buck and sway against his face, trying to find more of him. he traps you there, his tongue moving relentlessly. “cum for me, babe,” he murmurs against your wet skin.

baekhyun drinks you in as you shatter, his tongue lapping you up until the very last tremor leaves your body. then, with a cocky smile, he pulls back just enough to lick his sticky thumb, his eyes locked on yours the whole time. he chuckles before trailing wet, sloppy kisses back up your body, claiming your lips in a messy, breathless kiss, smirking in between, his hands already sliding back down to your hips.

☆ — jongdae

jongdae approaches you with a reverence that feels almost holy. he takes his time, his eyes crinkling with that soft smile. he starts by mapping your inner thighs with slow, lingering kisses, his voice a low, melodic hum of praise against your skin.

“you’re so perfect, you know that?” his breath is hot and damp against your body.

jongdae eats you out at his own agonizing pace. his tongue is soft but carries a desperate, underlying hunger—as if he’s trying to memorize the exact shape and texture of your slit with every stroke. he moves with a rhythmic precision, his mouth wide and warm as he claims you.

of course, he never has enough. jongdae groans softly against your wet skin, a deep, vibration-filled sound that tells you exactly how much he’s enjoying your taste. to double the sensation, he finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing it in a slow circle that matches the movement of his tongue.

“that’s it, love.” he watches the way your fingers dig into the sheets, his eyes never leaving the way your body reacts to him.

when you arch your back or let out a broken moan, jongdae responds with a deeper, more urgent lap of his tongue. he’s like a man starving for a very specific elixir, drinking you in until you’re shaking and pleading for the end. he won’t let you reach the peak alone; he stays right there, his thumb and tongue working in perfect sync until the very last tremor fades.

☆ — chanyeol

he’s a storm of affection before the clothes even hit the floor. chanyeol is all touch—hands roaming, lips constantly finding yours, his deep voice vibrating against your skin in a stream of breathless praises.

when his mouth finally meets your pussy, chanyeol doesn’t just stay there, groaning. his hands are everywhere, possessed by a restless need to map out every bit of your skin. one second, he’s gripping your thighs to pull you closer; the next, his large palms are molding to your ribs or cupping your breasts. his ragged breath is so hot that you could feel him moving through your slit, catching your clit in his lips, sucking so hard that your body instinctively curves toward him, your back arching off the sheets.

he’s addicted to your taste. chanyeol finds your mouth again in a sudden, surprise kiss, moaning at your favor as his tongue tangles with yours. you’re lost in the heat of his kiss that the graze of his fingers against your folds sent a jolt through your spine, making you jump.

before you can even catch your breath, he’s sliding two long fingers inside of you. he stretches you out with a smooth, rhythmic confidence, and then, he breaks the kiss just to dive back down, feeling the wet, heavy slide of his tongue against your clit.

“so fucking delicious.” that deep rumble vibrates against your cunt.

his tongue works with no stop, circling, while his fingers continue to drive into you, filling you until you’re a sobbing, shaking mess. of course chanyeol doesn’t pull away when you break. he keeps torturing you with his fingers inside, feeling every internal pulse of your orgasm, his tongue catching every drop of your pleasure. he stays until you’re limp and breathless, his face eventually flushed, lips swollen, and a triumphant grin.  

☆ — kyungsoo

kyungsoo is a quiet storm between your thighs. his breath is ghosting over your sensitive skin, his chest heaving with a secure, practiced confidence. oh… and he claims for sure. he buries his face in your pussy with a sudden, firm intent that leaves you gasping.

he’s instantly obsessed with your taste. kyungsoo sucks you so hard that your hips begin to move against him in an uncoordinated rhythm. you’re practically vibrating under the pressure of his mouth, your body trying to find a way to escape the intensity and sink deeper into it all at once.

his hands move to your hips, his fingers digging in with a possessive strength that holds you perfectly still. he isn’t going to let you go that easily. as your fingers find his hair, fisting in the strands in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, he only pushes harder.

his tongue is hungry, exploring every hidden inch of your cunt. he pushes deep, broad, and firm, mapping out your heat with a methodical pace that feels like it’s reaching into your very soul. he breathes heavily against your cunt, the hot air fanning over your clit and sending fresh jolts of lightning through your nerves.

you feel your body betraying you—losing all sense of pride or restraint—as you begin to bed. kyungsoo loves the sound of your undoing. he responds by trapping your clit between his lips, and then his tongue moves in that maddening rhythm while his nose grinds against you.

kyungsoo doesn’t flinch when your orgasm hits, violent and all consuming. he holds you through the shaking, drinking you, savoring every drop, lazily cleaning you up with a slow, possessive worship.

☆ — jongin

jongin is all hands and heat from the start. he craves to feel the way you react to every inch of him. he starts by rubbing your folds with a slow, heavy pressure, his thumb circling your clit while he leans up to claim your lips in a deep kiss. he explores your cunt with a quiet intensity, his breath hitching as he realizes how wet you are for him.

with a sudden intent, jongin inserts two of his long fingers inside you. he doesn’t just push, he slides them in with a rhythmic, confident grace that makes you back arch off the sheets. as he finds his pace, his lips begin their slow agonizing descent down your body—past your breasts, over your stomach—until he finally meets your pussy.

his hungry, plump lips tell you everything—how much he’s been starving for this, how much he’s been fighting the urge to just lose it. he sucks and laps you up with a frantic, wet energy, his tongue broad and firm as he really claims you. his fingers work in perfect sync with his mouth, driving into you with a steady, deep friction that leaves you whimpering his name.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” he rasps against your wet folds, his voice vibrating.

he loses all his control as he hikes your legs up, holding them steady over his shoulders so he can bury himself against you. jongin is like an animal, his nose grinding against your clit while his tongue and fingers move in a madness-driven rhythm. he’s relentless, his ragged breaths fanning over your sensitive heat, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

he waits for your release like a predator, his hand digging into your thighs to keep you grounded. when you finally shatter, jongin doesn’t pull back. he cleans every single drop of your pleasure as if it were the most precious thing he’s ever tasted. he’s physically incapable of leaving your folds; even as the tremors of your orgasm rack your body—and his hands—his tongue continues its worship, his fingers stay buried deep inside you, feeling your walls clenching around him.

☆ — sehun

sehun doesn’t ask too much. there’s a sudden shift in his mood before he drags you into his space. he surely doesn’t care if you’re dressing up or something; if he wants you, he takes you. he holds you steady with a grip that is firm and unapologetically possessive, his large hands anchoring your hips as if to remind you exactly who you belong to,

“don’t move, babe,” his voice dropping into that slow, dangerous register, like commanding.

sehun starts by leaving a trail of dark, deep marks along your inner thighs—bruises and nips that he knows only he will see later. he loves the idea of your skin carrying his signature. when he finally moves to eat you out, he’s a messy, dirty eater in the best possible way. there’s no restraint; he’s all wet heat and broad, sliding tongue, his mouth wide as he devours you.

sehun is completely addicted to the way you taste. he doesn’t just lap at you; he buries his face against your folds, making out with them, his nose grinding against your clit while he lets out low, guttural moans that vibrate directly into your sensitive skin. he wants you to feel his hunger, to hear how much you’re unraveling him.

“shit… you’re so wet for me.” he pulls back just enough to see the mess he’s making before diving back in.

raw and relentless, he uses his tongue with a frantic energy, pushing deep into your folds and sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking and your voice is a broken string of whimpers. he loves the friction, the way your body bucks back against his mouth for more.

of course sehun will drink every drop of your release. he’s messy, his face flushed and wet when he finally looks up at you. he licks his lips slowly, a cocky smirk playing on his mouth as he leans in to kiss you.

Junmyeon wasn’t a quitter or a proponent of secrecy by any means, but he believed in giving into surrender if there were too many things beyond his control. With you, he’d been made to confront a question: what if, instead of weighing his options on a scale of reason and righteousness, he went ahead and did whatever felt right anyway?

Five months later, you’d dragged each other into an empty rehearsal hall — the collar of his pink sweater vest crumpled within your fist while he kissed your neck, and your back leaving its imprint against the window while his palm burned into your thigh — all because he’d chickened out on kissing you at your doorstep after your date the night before, the Notre dame roses he’d bought you filling the air with a decadent sweetness that had made your skin crave for the heat of his mouth.

“Or we can stay here”, he replied, rooting himself back into the present — a gift he’s lucky to be sharing with you, pun intended — and his hands fixate on the little star, perpetually crooked from constant movement, that rests above the apex of your collarbones. Satisfied with how it sits against your skin, he lets his eyes meet yours. “Order in and watch the Eiffel Tower from afar.”

Your eyes squint in consideration, thoughts wisping at the corners of your eyes before you scoff. “You’re getting old. Whatever happened to the man who used to drag me to museums and monasteries at sunrise?”

“Tell that to the cold you’ll have if we get caught in the rain”, he huffs in reply, entirely too fond and in love beyond reason as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips slow down — to watch your breath catch and your chest rise beneath your white cocktail dress. It never gets old — the way your shared attraction for each other still stands tall, still makes both of you quiver in moments both mundane and miraculous. Helpless against his poetic tendencies, he thinks of Wordsworth’s deathless yew tree: an anomaly of nature and nurture that survived the tempests of time, with fear and hope, silence and foresight, all gathered under its canopy to celebrate what seems to succeed despite the endless adversities of life. If he’s the light that illuminates a meadow, you’re both the forest and the sun — capable of holding fire and fruition simultaneously. “You always fall sick so easily, and never get checked up.”

As if in agreement, the skies rumble with roiling thunder, and the clouds that huddle over the horizon are illuminated by a flash of lightning that almost eclipses the reign that the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe hold over the Paris cityscape. The lace curtains beat against the windows, and you turn to look at them in surprise, before returning your gaze to him again, a wry smirk at the end of your lips. “You got what you wanted, huh? As always?”

“As always?”, he quips, dropping his arm to the curve of your hip, feeling the subtle friction of your skirt against his touch before tugging you close, grip firm and faithful at the small of your back. “As if you aren’t more than capable of having your way with me.” Before you, life was a palette of situations, each colour something between a whisper of hope and a warning of fatigue. With you, he’s learnt the nuances of both tenderness and tension, every day a new canvas for the two of you to turn into something masterful — between the blues of bliss and the pinks of pleasure, the crimsons of conflict and the silvers of silence, you’ve made artists and muses out of each other. “As if you don’t enjoy getting what you want out of me.”

Your smirk dissolves into a teasing grin as you clear your throat bashfully and look away, eyes finding the streaks of sunset in the distance, tremors of lightning cutting through the cool greys and saturated oranges. Before too long, your head finds the cleft of his shoulder blade, one hand at the side of his waist as you sigh. “We needed this, didn’t we?”

Junmyeon is hardly unaware of what you mean. Between the exertions of your jobs and the tenacities of your tempers, there had been some exchanges that weren’t ideal — he’d had to postpone date nights a few too many times, and you’d let yourself stay distracted out of spite when he’d made himself available. After arguments that started in the kitchen, continued in the bedroom and did not end the morning after, he’d let himself become frantic, like someone on the verge of failing at something they’d devoted their life to. Eventually, it’d been you who had cornered him, hair dripping water onto his skin and the floor after you’d overheard him crying in the refuge of the shower, and held him until he’d divulged the vagaries of his headspace, his head pressed into the valley of your chest. After you both came back into the landscape of your living room, he looked both relaxed and determined in a way he only does when his mental chemistry has been altered somehow, and before you retired for bedtime, there were two one-way tickets for Paris sitting in his email inbox.

“I just needed you”, he whispers, overwhelmed all over again by the degree of his devotion for you that never wavers. “It is unfair, the way we tend to disregard what is right in front of us. I’m not looking to repeat that mistake anytime soon.”’

“Jun, I’m not asking for grand promises. Because life”, you pause, managing to somehow push yourself even closer to him, and a flash of lightning in the distance makes you tremble, “will test us at all times. It’s not a dealbreaker if I’m not with you every waking hour, but it is when you let things fester in your mind until it cuts you off from what we have built with each other so painstakingly.”

And it’s true: because you’d also fallen into those patterns earlier in the relationship. Conquered by critiques of yourself during your first rounds of cognitive therapy and subsequent medication, you’d somehow lost yourself in the melee of altered outfit sizes and changing mirror reflections. It had come to a head when Junmyeon tagged along to shop for clothes before a trip to Stockholm for your cousin’s wedding, later finding you inconsolably crumpled on the dressing room floor, torn between your instinct to judge yourself and your need to accept the idea that nothing that is merely skin deep truly matters in the long run.

It’d taken somewhere over two years, with his unwavering support, counselling and physical training, for you to relegate that part of your overthinking mind down into the trenches, but you’d come out stronger and much more reassured about yourself — the idea that you were, above all, a soul deserving of love and care regardless of the body that contained you, has not left your side since then.

“I know”, Junmyeon says, leaving a sound kiss on the top of your head before you look up at him with a watery smile, for which he kisses you again, playful presses of his lips at your nose until you giggle and shove him away. “And I love you. You drive me crazy, and you’re so bad at doing dishes, but I love you.”

“Don’t bring up the dishes when you haven’t spring-cleaned your closet even once since we moved in together.”

He snickers at that. “What can I say? I’m a sentimental curmudgeon. But you love me like that.”

The gleam in his eyes when he professes his confidence in your feelings for him makes you weak in the knees, even after all this time, and you pull him by the collar into a kiss, his lower lip caught between both of yours. The street below carries with it the melody of an accordion, and he smiles against your mouth, hands travelling up your dress, settling at the lines where the silk ends and your skin begins, the cold of his rings leaving the slightest arch in your back. It only makes you tug him back to you again, intent on etching your name on the air he invites into his chest, fingers clutching at the blue satin of his shirt until it creases within your grip, an imprint of your indelible hold on everything he is.

It is Junmyeon who pulls away finally, dropping a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth before winking at you and walking away towards the mini bar in the hotel suite, the collar of his shirt still rumpled from your grasp on it earlier. “If we’re staying in tonight—”

“— because you wanted to”, you quip without missing a beat, leaning back against the life-sized French window that brings in the muddled scents of sugar, coffee and impending rain.

“Because it’s in our best interests”, he replies, suave in the way he balances flirtation and factuality, “we better make the most of it.”

You watch him from your spot, attentive hands pouring merlot into two stemmed glasses, ripples of deep red kissing the insides of the vessels. Much to your delight, he’s been growing his hair out recently like he used to have it back in university, and you’d always thought that it frames his face so well. The overhead lights, dimmed for the mood, reflect off the sapphire in his shirt as he hunches over to return the bottle of wine to its place, the muscles of his back flexing from the action. You sigh and lean further against the window, as if to ice the growing heat of your skin against the air breezing in from the streets.

He doesn’t fail to catch you, even when you pretend to look away and take in the turning skies outside. “Since when do you get shy about staring at me?”, he contests, knowingly so, trudging back to you with helpings of wine for the two of you. “It’s not like I hate it.”

“When have you ever shied away from attention?”, you scoff, just to get back at him, and maybe to make him laugh in that one way that he does when you try to get even with him. “You’ve always thrived when people gawk and gape and drop their panties for you.”

Junmyeon presses your glass into your open hand, thumb purposefully grazing the inside of your wrist a little too long, then lets his arm fall to your side, the touch burning into the swell of your hip. “Even when they did, your panties were the only ones I was after. What do you think about that?”

Your lungs suddenly feel shallow, emptied of air and instead filled with a feral longing for him, even though he's right there, with words and touches solely meant for you. Choosing to rein yourself in, you sip your wine, lipstick staining the rim with a dark pink, casually letting yourself take him in again — and this time, his awareness of you is tenfold as you do it. “I have nothing to say for it, you made your choice”, you finally say, but not without the slightest of smirks concealed behind your glass. “You have to live with it now.”

“In case you can’t tell already, I have no complaints”, he says, stoking the already obvious sparks of desire, lips pursed in amusement. “Speaking of choices, care for a game?”

You perk up, easily excited at the prospect of a challenge. “You did want to make the most of the evening, so why not?”

Junmyeon leads you back out onto the balcony, hand firm at the small of your back, and you observe that the skies are now a silken shade of black-blue, occasionally rendered silver by streaks of distant lightning. His glass is nearly empty, so he runs back in and gets the bottle of merlot from before, then takes the chaise lounge across from you, looking resolute and ready for whatever he’s planning for the night ahead, his figure leaning over the table in careful curiosity. “Truth or dare?”

The next sip of your wine empties your glass by more than half, and your boyfriend eagerly tops it off for you as you consider your reply. “I’ll start easy. Truth.”

“Chicken.”

“Don’t be an ass”, you chuckle, “use your breath to make your question worthwhile, instead.”

Junmyeon leans back then, arms resting in his lap as he thinks, eyes slipping down the neckline of your dress in obvious interest, so you kick him under the table. “Question, mister man.”

“Fine, fine.” He scoffs, then tilts his head at you, the textbook image of mindful mischief. “You know how I feel about this dress.”

You turn away, drinking from your glass, shoulders rising in recollection — you’d been out to get something for a high-profile work dinner Junmyeon was taking you to, much to your complaint because you weren’t looking to spend money on something so grandiose that it’d only be fit for fancy evenings like this one, and while your work also takes you places, no authorised affair on their end required you to dress up in anything besides your usual formals and trusty black dresses. Regardless, your boyfriend had decided to play at being a sugar daddy and buy you ‘whatever your eyes stayed on more than five minutes’. The kind lady at the aisle you were roaming had shown you towards the new arrivals from earlier that day, and you’d been riveted by the flattering lines and the silken sheen on the white dress. Junmyeon had looked stricken when you’d held it up for him, bouncing off to the trial rooms before he could say much else. Seconds into fitting into it, you’d been greeted with borderline frantic knocks and when you opened it, he’d crowded into you, gently pushing you back in before closing the door and locking it. Turning you around so your back was against his chest, he’d kissed along your neck, teeth pressing into the ridges of your collarbones, firm hands slipping down until they'd found the ends of the gown and dragging back up, finally settling at the curves of your hips, toying with the elastic of your panties. “We’re getting this, but you’re not wearing it to the event. Pick something else for that”, he’d said, looking at you in the full-length mirror up ahead, fingers sinking to the front of your underwear and teasing the wetness building there. “This one’s mine.”

You’re pulled back into the present when you catch Junmyeon laughing. “Earth to y/n?”

“Sorry, got lost for a second there”, you chuckle your thoughts off, echoes of heavy breathing and fogged mirrors pushed to the back of your head for the moment. “Come again?”

“I asked”, your lover says, smirking a little too brightly, all too soon, but tries to hide it behind his glass of wine. “What’s one thing you want to try in bed that we haven’t already done?”

Swallowing back the air that catches in your throat at his rather risqué query, you think carefully, but then, letting your deviousness take hold, you continue your train of thoughts while dragging the end of your stiletto along the inside of Junmyeon’s leg. “You and me, as always, but not in bed”, you reply, curt and unbelievably calm for the kind of words that had just left your mouth.

It’d be a vague response for most people, yes, but Junmyeon isn’t most people: if by ‘not in bed’, you’d meant the kitchen, the couch or the shower, it would make no sense, because those bases had long since been covered, repeatedly so. Which means.

“It’d be fun”, you continue, draining the rest of your wine in the glass. “To wonder if people can see and hear how good you make me feel.”

The farthest that things had ever gone with the two of you beyond the bedroom was in that damn changing room a year and a half ago: it’d been intense, and you’d come out of there dishevelled and giving off obvious signs of someone who had just had the time of their life — but it’d ended with him making you come hard enough to scream behind his hand over your mouth, and nothing more. Hence, given your undying appetite for him, you’d lived with your secret wonderments since then — how he’d take to this idea of yours, how he’d react, and if it ever comes to pass, if it’d be as primal and ardent as you imagine it to be with him.

You pause when Junmyeon catches your wandering foot between his legs, holding it there while his gaze spans over the entirety of you, and then lets it drop back to the floor. “Your turn”, he says, quieter than before.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Chicken.”

“Touché”, he fires back, a pearly grin carved onto his face. “Maybe I’m in the mood for candour as well. Who knows.” Leaning in over the table, Junmyeon refills your glass, then his own. “Do your worst.”

You lean back in your chair conspiratorially, sipping your merlot and holding his gaze, so as to actually be able to think without letting yourself get lost in the labyrinth of how unreal he looks tonight. You’re biased, clearly, but he’s not looked so present and genuinely confident in a while, and you’re more than happy to be the sole audience to the way he could outshine every last star in the sky. There are spells when you’re drowned by your own pessimism, finding it so outlandish that he would choose you to share his heart and home with. During one of those times, you’d come home to him having fallen asleep on the couch, glasses askew and book upturned over his chest. Picking up the book, you’d found a page dogeared over a quote that was to stay with you for good:

Love him. Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?

Smiling, you set down your glass, then clear your throat to get his attention. “When was the first time you knew you wanted me?”

Junmyeon smirks at that. “You’re letting me win easy. We’ve talked about this, it was at the theatre society—”

“Not the first time you thought of asking me out.” Fanning out your legs under the table, you resume your little unsaid game of footsie with him. “I mean, the first time you wanted me in your bed.”

His expression shifts so quickly at that clarification, you’d think he’d seen a ghost behind you. But since it is Junmyeon, he recovers well, playing up his enthusiasm so as to not make you feel like you’ve indeed asked something that he’ll find difficult to answer. For a while in your relationship, keeping both your past experiences in mind, he’d been mindful of being too audacious about how he desired you. While that conversation was eventually had — because holy shit, while you loved it when he was the perfect gentleman, but there were only so many chaste cheek kisses and forehead pecks outside your door that you could’ve lived with.

“There has never been a time when I’ve not wanted you.”

“Let me make it easier for you, so you can be as candid as you’d promised to be ten minutes ago.” Never one to back down from a place of advantage, you persisted. “The first time you ever saw me across the way and thought, yes, I’d take her back to my place and fuck her within an inch of her life. Tell me about it.”

You see the visible gulp he does, the swell of his throat rippling as he swallows back air, and you’re slowly getting the sense that he might forfeit. Knowing him as closely as you do, you can’t imagine how sordid or embarrassing something would have to be in order to forever stay a secret between the two of you—

“About a month after you’d joined the drama club.” For some reason, Junmyeon now starts to look relieved, a chuckle lacing his words as he speaks. “It was a Spring Weekend lunch at Zeta Delta Xi. I had rehearsals, but Sehun and Minseok had all but dragged me there so they didn’t have to drink wine and eat spaghetti all by themselves. About three minutes into getting myself a drink, I found you on the other end of the room, with this guy holding your glass for you while you tied your hair back from your face. You weren’t looking my way, your arms were up at your head, and the pink dress you were wearing was backless. You weren’t standing close by any means, but weren’t far enough for me to tear my eyes off you.”

A frisson of guilt runs through you because if you’re not too inaccurate with your memory, he’s talking about the same afternoon as the one where you’d also spotted him — looking delectable in a white crewneck and a black leather jacket, ice blue jeans that were ripped at the knees and fit snugly around off his firm thighs as he sat at one of the high chairs with his friends. You’d purposefully evaded Junmyeon that day, choosing to all but glue yourself to your classmate, Jongin, to keep your mind off the seemingly ridiculous crush that had been taking over you.

“Then the dude said something and you laughed, throwing your head back and some of your hair came loose,”, your lover continued, “and he tried to fix it for you while you had your drink. My grip almost broke the glass I was drinking from, that’s how bad I wanted you.”

A bead of water meets the heated slope of your cheek as you listen to Junmyeon’s version of the incident, but you’re too far gone to care — all you think and breathe now is the image of him, draped in lust and leather, thighs clenched in need as he watches you from his chair with surplus interest and perhaps some mild envy. In all honesty, nothing had ever transpired between you and Jongin — he was a delight to be around, but neither of you ever quite got around to feeling or doing anything that might’ve resulted in a relationship. You’d stayed in touch throughout university, and even after, until he’d moved to Moscow to become a ballet prodigy under Bolshoi.

Nevertheless, you regard the man sitting across from you now, looking simultaneously tender and tenacious as he watches a slight drizzle fall over the streets, then turns back to you with pupils so black and blown out that you could see the balcony lights flickering in them. He then leaves his seat, stalking over to you in all but three steps. “If it were for me, you’d have been bent over the lunch table with my hands up your dress and on your tits for the rest of the afternoon. And if we still had time and you weren’t fucked out, I’d have had you on your knees for me, just to see how your hair frames your face while you suck my cock.” You’re pretty sure your mouth is hanging ajar by now, but he simply gives you one of his stoic smiles, a slight tinge of victory shining through it as he wipes a streak of rainwater off your cheek. “But I’m a patient man at heart, and I wanted you as more than just a good lay. Always have, always will.”

“My turn”, you somehow eke out, clutching at his wrist before he moves it away, far too ravenous to even consider the idea of losing his touch. “Dare me to do something. Anything.”

It’s raining steadily now, your curls coming off their updo and clinging to your face. As you try to shake some of the water off, you’re stopped in your tracks — Junmyeon slips his hand off your cheek, to the back of your neck, and with a slight tug, pulls you into him. His shirt has begun to stick to him, blue silk looking like he’s worn the ocean around himself for the night. Pulling out the pin that was keeping your hair in place, he leans in, his thumb chasing a drop of water that trickles from your chin, down into your cleavage where the dress ends.

“I’ll make it easy for you”, Junmyeon whispers into the corner of your mouth, breathing onto your skin and leaving trails of fire in its wake. “Kiss me.”

You’re thrown into a desirous haze thereafter, because his grip on your neck and his mouth against yours is a drug unlike any other. He shivers and almost arches into you when you slip your hands under his shirt, the rain heightening turning every touch and thought into liquid heat. You think you’ve surpassed every possible level of longing for him by the time his lips even reach your sternum, and you gasp into the drizzle covering the both of you when he pushes you back, holding you down against the balcony table.

“Tell me you meant it”, he rasps, water clinging and dripping off the ends of his words. “What you said earlier. About wanting to know how it’d be.”

You notice how he keeps losing his mental compass as he speaks, sights invariably slipping to your chest where your dress has soaked through to the skin. Hooking a finger onto the buttoned end of the shirt, you pull him even closer, and armed with a sudden burst of courage, you take both his hands and cup them onto your breasts, pushing them downward until the dress slides off, until it stops at the swell of your belly. The white lingerie you were wearing underneath is translucent from the rain, and you unhook it from the back, letting it fall to the floor. You might be bare for all of the world to see, but you only ever want his eyes on you.

“I hope you can tell”, you whisper, leaning in to sip the rain off his jawline, “that I only ever say what I mean.”

Something breaks open in Junmyeon then, because he doesn’t hold back in the slightest thereafter. Fingers clasped around the flesh of your naked waist, he puts his mouth on your breast, teeth pressing onto your hardened nipple until you cry out. His other hand shoves the rest of your clothes down, until you’re only covered at your lower half. Despite your daze, you somehow still manage to tug at his drenched shirt until he gets the hint and unbuttons it, letting you throw it off his arms when he’s done. Already, even in the muddled light of the balcony, you can see the marks blooming along the line of your sternum, and by the time his tongue reaches your lower belly, you’re breathless, looking down at him from behind your dripping lashes as he purposefully holds your gaze and bites down on the supple skin there.

“It’s my turn now, right?”, he grunts, “give me a dare.”

If you had any restraints left in your system, he’d just about done away with them with those words. “Taste me”, you say, hand firm at the back of his head where his hair has grown into soft waves. “Make me come with your mouth.”

“Right here?”, he replies, nose pressed to your panties as he speaks, teeth biting onto the lace until it gives way. You groan, head thrown back as he kisses you there, but a prompt smack to the inside of your thigh flings your eyes back open and makes your knees buckle. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Right here. I want you right here, I don’t care who sees.”

The first swipe of his tongue against your clit has you keening, and your knees almost knock into his face but he holds them still, knuckles pale as he keeps you where you are. “You’d drown me if you got any wetter”, he says, hot breath against your core making you squirm closer to him. “My very own water nymph.”

He then shifts his grip to the backs of your knees, urging you to sit on the table you were leaning against, and when you’re settled, he veers up to let one hand squeeze your breast. You hold onto his wrist, enjoying the sensations brewing in you — the chill from the rain, paired with his touch, driving you towards madness swifter than you’d have ever imagined, and your moans get mixed with his own as he basks in the passion that only he gets to share with you.

“I could get off just from this”, Junmyeon says, pulling away from your cunt for a breather, but replacing his mouth with two of his fingers to continue moving you towards your orgasm. Curving them into you, he then laps at your clit, lips wrapping around it to savour you further. “Watching you fall apart. Because of me.”

“Don’t stop.” You’re practically holding onto the table for dear life by then, tasting the rain on your tongue as you speak. “You’re so good to me, please don’t stop.”

His fingers become relentless at that, and he continues to please you like you’d oh so sweetly begged for. “Feels good, baby? You wanna come?”

You nod frantically at that, clutching at his scalp almost painfully because every movement he makes carries you just that much closer to your release. “I’m close.”

“Good, because”, he says, pausing midway, and then does something he’d never done before — his teeth press onto your swollen clit, and your back bows off the table immediately, like an arrow flung into space, and you’re coming with a prolonged cry of his name, gushing liquid heat on and around his open mouth. He takes it all, broad sweeps of his tongue licking you clean, and you keep spasming around his fingers that are still inside you, the hardwood table beneath you rocking from the impact. You inhale deeply, lungs burning for air, and realise that the rain has stopped now. Managing to detach from the surface you were on, you look down and Junmyeon is still there, lips and chin glistening with your cum, wet kisses pressed to the inside of your thighs to soothe you. “I wanted to try and see if that works”, he says, grinning against your skin.

Despite your shallow breaths and your unkempt being, you sputter out a laugh , then urge him to get off his knees. “You’re literally so stupid”, you say, before kissing him soundly, tongue licking into his mouth and tasting yourself there. “For making a joke after making me cum hard enough to pass out.”

Junmyeon, in a blatant display of strength, then drags you off the table and carries you into the suite. “You’re so wet”, he jests again, “and the rain is responsible for only some of it.” Almost as if on cue, his legs fold, and you scramble off him, laughing with reckless abandon as soon as your feet touch the ground. He looks miffed, but chuckles anyway, rubbing his thighs for effect. “My legs were gone by the time you came, okay? It’s cold out there.”

“My knight in shining armour is getting old, huh?” You giggle, but hold onto him, because your own balance is not to be fully trusted just yet, thanks to his … skills. “Wanna lie down, good sir?”

“Running your mouth a little too much, huh?”, he says, a mild warning to his tone, before picking up an unused towel off the edge of the bed. Running it over your head, he dries your scalp off the residual rainwater that was still there. “As if you weren’t just screaming my name on an open balcony in the middle of Paris.”

You subdue yourself a little at that, then let your hands travel down his pants. They’re wet from kneeling on the rain-covered floor, but you still feel him there, half-hard and warm. “It’s my turn again, so you can dare me to do something that shuts me up”, you whisper into the crevice of his neck while he’s still drying your hair. He pauses then, towel falling off your head as he tugs you back into himself, thumb coming up to caress your cheek, then settling at your lower lip, almost as if asking for permission.

“If you weren’t so prone to falling sick, I’d have made you do it outside.” His fingers slip down to your throat, then grip it just slightly, just enough to make your eyes widen and your breath falter. “Would’ve asked you to strip me down and suck me off.” He then picks the towel off the floor and covers you with it, because you’re naked and still drenched. “But I’m a gentleman, after all.” He fucking winks at you, goes off to kindle the bedroom fireplace, and tilts his head at the armchair in front of it. “Warm up, I’ll get us some clothes.”

Before he could tread off, you pull him back, and walk him back towards the chair instead. “I think we'll be just fine for now. Give me a dare.”

Effectively shoved into his seat, Junmyeon watches you kneel in front of him, dragging your hands up his thighs as he thinks of what to say next. As you lean up into him, your towel falls off, and he eyes the ample curve of your ass as you undress the rest of his outfit, bare breasts brushing the insides of his dress pants. “I so want to just have you on your back”, he breathes out, “right here on the floor, and fuck you into next week.”

“That’s not a dare”, you smirk, tugging at his waistband until he gets the hint and shifts his hips, letting you pull them down his legs. “Try again.”

Now completely naked, Junmyeon lets you have your way for a while, your hand gripping the length of his shaft and stroking a little too slow for his liking, but making him gasp for air just the same. Your mouth follows after, licking around the head of his cock until he’s all but lying flat within the confines of the armchair, abs clenched as he tries not to lose it already, hand groping at your hair for more.

“I’ll come”, he exhales somehow, “if you keep doing that. I’ve been holding back for quite some time.”

“Then make me do something else”, you reply, tongue swiping along his length as he watches you, lips pink and teeth-bitten. “If not, then I’ll choose my own dare.”

Your lips wrap around his cock immediately after, and he keens into the backrest with a groan, the velvet heat of your mouth like a cliff he stands at the edge of before he inevitably falls over. Hair haywire from his fumbling touches, you hollow out your cheeks before taking him all in, breath heavy and nasal as you hold him at the back of your throat, feeling his thighs tremble on either side of your face, before he’s pushing at your shoulders, pulling you off his cock, watching the teary edges of your eyes and the strands of spit drooling off your chin, then kisses you deep and hard, his tongue against yours like the blade of a knife.

“Lie back. Right there. The bed’s too far.” When you scoot to the spot near the fireplace, he clambers over, pushing the towel under your back, his expression shifting from pure lust into something so deeply devoted that it makes your toes curl. “Carpet burns. Let’s avoid them”, he whispers, a fond smile looped around his words.

“Hey”, you blurb, pulling him in close by the arm until he’s flush against your front, on top of you. “I love you.”

Junmyeon finds his place between your legs, your knees on either side of his flexed back as he holds himself above you, his thumb running along the blush that’s colouring your cheekbone. “Not more than I love you. Wanna try something? Since you wanted a dare?”

You nod, breath heavy in anticipation, and he inches further until he’s straddling your belly. “Squeeze your tits for me, sweetheart”, he says, before leaning in for a quick kiss, then pressing the leaking tip of his cock into your cleavage and thrusting carefully, the friction burning against the tender flesh there and making you throw your head back in ecstasy. When he’s found a steady rhythm, he adds his own hands to the mix, toying with your hardened nipples.

Leaning back into him, you watch as he fucks your tits, brows clenched in pleasured restraint. Feeling devious, you open your mouth, letting your tongue lap at his cock every time he thrusts towards your face, and he grunts before pushing even closer to you. “Baby always wants her mouth full, huh? Didn’t get enough earlier?”, he rasps.

“Never enough”, you manage, grinning as you lave his cock with your mouth until he pulls away, making you pout.

“Your turn now”, Junmyeon says, settling back between your legs, his shaft grazing your clit every time he moves, and when you buck your hips up for more, he presses you back down onto the carpet, your thighs pinned down under his grasp. “You gotta ask nicely, sweetheart. In words.”

You sigh. “You know what I want.”

“Ask”, he whispers, voice and words sweet enough as he kisses along your neck, making you moan with the occasional bite of his teeth that, you know, will show up in the mirror come tomorrow morning. “And you shall receive. Anything you need.”

Relishing the luxury of his mouth, you think, and right as his attention reaches back to your breasts, you tug at the back of his hair, enjoying the way it makes his groin push into yours. “Remember how you said you love me?”

“As if I can ever forget”, he jests, then kisses the corner of your lips fondly. “Yes, I do. What about it?”

“Just for tonight”, you say, playing with his gold tiered chain that dangles from his neck, grazing your breasts when it moves. “Fuck me like you hate me. Can you do that?”

Junmyeon physically jolts against you at that, leaning away to look at your face, and then his mouth pulls into a blatant smirk. “A dare is a dare, I guess.”

Before you can even blink, your knees are being folded back into your chest, and one of your hands is clasped to his above your head. His other hand clamps onto your thigh, and then he’s inside, robbing you of all the air in your lungs. The pace he sets is borderline punishing, and you cry out with every thrust. “That’s what you want? To be taken like a harlot?”

You laugh out in pleasure, nodding against his cheek as his face tucks into your neck, fucking you into the floor with everything he has. “Your harlot. Because no one else gets to fuck me like this.”

“Shut up”, he snaps, feeling the full extent of what you’d asked for as your gaze shift into blissful obedience before falling shut. “Whores don’t talk back. They just take what they get.” He then grips your chin, thumb pressing into the groove of your throat like a warning of sorts. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

Your eyes flash open at that, and you focus back on the familiar burn in your gut and the flex of his arm beside you. Holding one hand out, you tug him closer with a hand to the back of his neck, moaning into his mouth. “You make me feel so good. I’m close.”

“Already?” Junmyeon pulls out at that, making you rut against him in need, but then his hips lurch against yours, bottoming out in one fell swoop, your cry almost drowning out the slap of skin against skin. “That desperate for me, baby?”

“Always”, you sob in relief, “please let me cum for you.”

The blistering rhythm of his cock inside you, paired with his hand on your throat, has you teetering over the edge of oblivion. “Please”, you cry out again, “I’m so close.”

His own hips start to falter then, so you know he’s barely keeping it together until you cum. Locking your knees at the small of his back, you clench your walls around him, heels digging into his ass as he grunts and pushes into you like a man crazed for his high. “I’m gonna cum inside you”, he says, his voice a low growl echoing in his throat, and you feel the edges of your orgasm starting to creep in. “And you’re gonna take it like a good little slut, and cum for me.”

Nodding feverishly, you squeeze around his cock again, and he almost snarls when he cums, warm bursts of his release filling you as he furiously rubs at your swollen clit, making you tighten even further, and then you’re coming, tears melting down the ends of your eyes as you scream. He keeps stroking your clit until you’re sore, but you take it, still intoxicated from all the pleasure you’ve felt in a single night. A smile finds its way onto your lips, turning into a sigh when you feel him softening inside you, and then he’s kissing you, as if claiming you all over again, nipping at your lower lip.

“Hope I didn’t take it too far”, he whispers, suddenly shy from the earlier events. “I know you asked, but I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“You’re still inside me, love”, you giggle, pecking his cheek in understanding. “That wouldn’t be the case if I didn’t enjoy everything you’ve done tonight.”

Junmyeon is the man you love, but after all, he’s just a man, and he’s just as silly as they come. He slobbers you with wet kisses all over your face in pure delight, and you laugh through it, pinching his arm to make him stop. “You’re literally such a menace.”

“Your menace”, he quips, then sees you cringe — it’s his cum leaking out of you, onto what is probably a very expensive carpet that neither of you own, and both of you chuckle at that. “Bath time?”, he asks, kissing your nose.

“Carry me?”, you pout, “I can’t feel my thighs yet.”

Junmyeon shuffles you off the floor then, arms holding you bridal-style as he walks towards the bathroom. “As long as you don’t complain if I”, he pauses, then pretends to fall over, just to get on your nerves, “accidentally drop you. I’m getting old, as you’d said.”

“I hate you.”

“Say that”, Junmyeon grins, then graces you with another kiss before shutting the bathroom door behind him, “to all the people who saw and heard us fucking on the balcony.”