kaede

INSPIRED BY : MORNING DEW (Donk) - Beyoncé

You stir slowly in the sheets, the summer heat already pressing down like a thick blanket even at 9 AM. Sunghoon’s arm is draped possessively over your waist, his bare chest flush against your back, skin slick with a light sheen of sweat from the night’s exertions and the warm morning air. The AC is on in the corner of the bedroom, doing little to cut through the humidity. Your body aches in the best way ; thighs sore, lips still tingling from countless kisses and rounds that melted into the early hours.

“Baby…” Sunghoon’s voice is low and raspy, still thick with sleep as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm against your damp skin. “We have to get up. Brunch with Jake and Jay in an hour.”

You groan softly and press back against him, refusing to open your eyes. “Three more minutes,” you mumble, pulling the thin sheet higher over your bodies even though it’s already too hot. Leaving his strong arms and the scent of his skin with the remnants of last night feels wrong.

He chuckles, the sound passing through his chest into yours. One large hand slides down your side, gently squeezing your hip as he tries to coax you awake. “Come on, Y/N. You know Jay will text me ten times if we’re late. Again.” His lips brush your shoulder in persuasive kisses, trailing toward your collarbone. When that doesn’t work, he shifts, rolling you onto your back with effortless strength so he can hover over you, messy dark hair falling into his eyes. You finally crack one eye open, squinting against the sunlight filtering through the curtains. Sunghoon looks unfairly good even half-asleep ; flushed cheeks, sharp jaw, and a lazy smirk playing on his lips. However, as your gaze drifts lower, you notice it instantly : the huge bulge of his morning wood straining against the front of his boxers, thick and hard, tenting the fabric right above where his thigh presses between yours.

A slow heat blooms in your stomach. “Hoon…” you murmur, one hand instinctively sliding down his toned abdomen until your fingers graze the waistband of his boxers. “You sure we have to leave right now?”

He groans, forehead dropping to yours, there’s amusement in his eyes along with clear desire. “Don’t tempt me. You’re the one who said yes to brunch yesterday—before I fucked you senseless.” Still, he stays close to you. His hips roll forward just slightly, letting you feel the full, hard length of him against your thigh. “If you don’t get that pretty ass up, I’m carrying you to the shower myself.”

You smile sleepily, fingers teasing along his hardness through the thin material, feeling it twitch under your touch. The ache between your legs returns with interest, but the distant ping of a phone ; probably Jake wondering where you two are ; reminds you both of reality. Sunghoon sighs, kissing you deeply once, slow and lingering, before he forces himself to sit up. The sheet pools around his waist, doing nothing to hide how ready his body still is for you. “Shower. Now. Together. But no funny business or we really will be late.” He stands, offering you his hand with a raised eyebrow, his morning wood proudly on display. “I don’t want to explain to the guys why we look so…tired.”

You reach out quickly and grab his hand before he can fully pull away, your fingers wrapping around his wrist with gentle insistence. Sunghoon pauses, glancing back at you. You look up at him with those pleading eyes ; still heavy with sleep and leftover desire ; and whisper, “Just a kiss, please? Then we’ll get up.”

He stares at you for a beat, clearly fighting an internal battle. His jaw tightens, even though the way you’re looking at him, all warm and tempting in the morning, makes his resolve crumble. “You’re being stubborn right now,” he mutters, a fond smile tugging at his lips despite the words. With a defeated sigh, he climbs back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he settles over you again. His body presses you into the sheets, hot skin against hot skin. One of his hands cups your cheek as he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss. Soft at first, nearly sweet, but it quickly turns hungry, with tongues sliding together, breaths mingling in the already stifling room. You melt beneath him, fingers threading through his messy hair.

Without breaking the kiss, Sunghoon’s hand slides down your body with ease. He grips the back of your thigh, lifting it and hooking it around his waist, pulling you flush against him. At the same time, his other hand tugs your underwear down your legs in a single move, then quickly shoves his own boxers lower, freeing his throbbing cock. It’s muscle memory at this point, how many times had he done exactly this in the middle of the night?

The thick head of his cock brushes against your bare heat as he rocks his hips forward, teasing your entrance while he kisses you harder, swallowing your soft moan. Sweat beads along his spine from the summer heat, but neither of you cares. “One kiss,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice rough with need, “and now look what you’ve done…”

You smile into the next kiss, rolling your hips up to meet him, encouraging him closer as your thigh tightens around his waist. The brunch with Jake and Jay is quickly becoming a distant afterthought. You feel him pause right there, his body tense above yours, cock heavy and hot over your inner thigh. Sunghoon pulls back just enough to look down at you, that signature smirk curling his lips as his eyes gleam with mischief and lust. “What are we even going to tell the guys when we show up late?” he asks, voice low and teasing, one eyebrow raised. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thigh, still hooked firmly around his waist.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Not my problem,” you reply with a playful shrug, your fingers tracing lazy patterns down his sweat-slicked back. He lets out a quiet laugh that turns into a groan as he shifts his hips. He reaches down between your bodies, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, and slowly rubs the swollen head up and down your slick entrance. The pressure makes your breath hitch every time he nudges against your clit, coating himself in your arousal.

“Fuck…I don’t want to think about it right now,” he murmurs lowly against your lips, rough and needy. He keeps rubbing sluggishly, pressing just barely inside before pulling back again, drawing it out until you’re squirming beneath him. The summer heat makes everything feel more intense ; skin sticking, breaths short, the room filled with nothing but the sounds of your shared breathing and the faint creak of the bed.

His forehead rests against yours, eyes half-opened as he watches your reaction to every stroke. “What’s with you being this wet already?" He teases softly. You whimper as he keeps teasing you mercilessly. He pushes the thick head of his cock inside you, stretching you open just enough to make your walls flutter around him, then pulls out with a wet pop. He does it again and again ; slow, shallow dips that leave you aching for more, your hips chasing him every time he withdraws.

“Fuck, Hoon…” you breathe, nails digging into his shoulders.

He finally gives in with a low groan. In one smooth thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, filling you completely. Your back arches off the bed as he starts thrusting ; deep strokes that make the headboard tap softly against the wall. The heat in the room only intensifies everything : skin slapping skin, sweat making your bodies glide together, your thigh still hooked tightly around his waist.

Just as the rhythm starts building, his phone begins ringing loudly on the nightstand. Sunghoon curses under his breath but doesn’t stop right away, thrusting a few more times before he reluctantly slows. He pulls out of you with a slick sound, shifting down the bed in one move. As you were about to protest, his broad shoulders push your thighs apart and his mouth is on you. His tongue drags hot and flat through your folds, licking up your wetness before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently. You moan loudly, fingers threading through his hair as he eats you out with hungry strokes.

The phone keeps ringing. On what must be the final ring, he reaches over, grabs it, and answers without pulling his mouth off you. “Yeah?” he says, voice muffled and graveled. He flicks his tongue faster against your clit, two fingers sliding into you and curling perfectly as he speaks.

You hear Jake’s voice faintly through the speaker, firing off a ton of questions—where are you guys, why aren’t you there yet, did you oversleep again?

He lifts his head just enough to speak clearly, lips and chin shiny with your arousal. “I’m eating breakfast right now,” he replies casually, then dives back down, sucking on your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you steadily.

Jake laughs on the other end. “Dude, we’re literally about to have brunch. Why are you eating already?”

Sunghoon chuckles against your pussy, the vibration making you bite your lip to stifle a moan. “I was really hungry while getting ready,” he answers casually, voice slightly breathless. His tongue circles your clit faster as he adds, “Give us like…twenty minutes. We’ll be there.”

He hangs up without waiting for more protests, tossing the phone aside and focusing entirely on you again. His mouth works you harder, fingers curling deep as he looks up at you with hungry eyes.

“Better come quick, baby,” he murmurs against your soaked folds, smirking. “We’ve got brunch plans.”

But sex was never the issue, the issue was that ever since he started suppressing his DNA with that universal inhibitor chip, he was holding back.

Even after you told him he doesn't need it—the second he could feel himself slipping, he'd pull back, the minute he got worried that he couldn't control his strength, he'd slow down.

You hated it.

Sure you'd still cum multiple times, but that was besides the point.

And of course you told him just as much, "Jake, you know you can let go a little?" you'd say, watching as he stumbled around his Queens apartment with a heap load of bedding.

"Baby, I am letting go!" he called back, voice completely muffled by the pile of sheets threatening to swallow him whole as he blindly searched for the washing machine.

"Jake." you sigh watching him, he gave up entirely, a web shot from his wrist with a quiet thwip, sticking neatly to the little round washer door. One sharp tug later, it swung open, and Jake triumphantly shoved the heap of bedding inside before kicking the door shut with his foot.

"Y/n, I'm not risking it."

One night, you decide to take matters into your own hands, though maybe not in the way Jake was expecting. You're observing him as he occasionally types, talking to his AI Evie about possible anomalies with the universal inhibitor chip. He's laying back in his office chair, head thrown back in that cute way he always does whenever he's trying to figure something out.

You stay where you are in the doorway, arms folded loosely across your chest as you watch him. His room is dim except for the cool glow of three monitors, all throwing shifting blue light across his face. It paints sharp lines over his features, catching on the bridge of his nose and the curve of his lip as he frowns in concentration.

"No, Evie, cross-reference the fluctuation reports after the Midtown incident," he sighs, "Not before."

Usually, he'd notice you before you were even there—your heartbeat or footsteps enough to give you away, but the chip was suppressing more than just his strength. Even his senses had become noticeably dimmed.

You pad across the room in silence until you were standing directly behind him. Only then did you lean down, draping your arms around his neck, resting your chin on top of his head.

Jake physically jumps. "Jesus—"

A startled laugh escapes you as he grabs your forearm on instinct, before immediately relaxing.

"You didn't hear me?"

"I definitely did not hear you."

You smile to yourself, "That's kinda my point," you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, before letting the next linger against his temple—trailing down to his cheek.

"Baby.." Jake breathes, his hand on your forearm flexes a little as his head lolls a fraction to the side, giving you access.

"I told you, the chip isn't helping you," you say quietly, lips brushing against his jaw. "It's making you doubt yourself."

"It isn't—"

"It is."

He lets out a slow breath, already aware he is not winning this argument. You twist around his chair, swinging a leg over his lap and settling there. Jake's hands automatically find your waist, steadying you against him—without that familiar confidence. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, like he was measuring the pressure without even realising it.

"Jake, you're not gonna break me." you whisper against his lips, your forehead resting against his as your voice drowns out Evie's announcement that the cross-reference was complete.

"I know." he says softly, leaning back just enough to look at your face properly.

"Liar." you murmur, feeling a surge of annoyance at his continued act. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the hair on his nape, just above where that chip sat.

"Y/n, I'm trying to protect you." he says quieter. His thumb sweeps across your cheek, the corner of his mouth lifting into a fond smile. He's looking at you like you're being stubborn in the most endearing way, but that was currently infuriating you.

"I don't need protecting Jake, you can't choose between being Spiderman and being you." you look between his eyes, as if that'd make him hear you, make him listen to words you've repeated since he created that fucking chip. "You're both."

"It's not that simple."

"No?" you challenge, eyebrows lifting.

"No." he shakes his head once, "Baby, I'm not taking it off." he says before pressing a chaste, almost apologetic kiss to your lips.

Your jaw tightens, "You think that's gonna make it better?"

"..Maybe."

Your fingers brush the collar of his hoodie, smoothing it flat. Jake's attention stays on your face until your fingertips disappear beneath the edge. The cool metal sits exactly where you knew it would, nestled against the back of his neck.

Jake's eyes widen for a split second, but by then it was too late. A tiny click.

"Wait—"

But the device was now between your fingertips.

Jake stares at you in a stunned silence, watching as you hold it between your fingers for exactly half a second before flicking your wrist. The chip clinks against the hardwood floor somewhere behind him.

For a heartbeat, nothing happens. His jaw stays parted, but then his breathing turns uneven, hands dragging down to your thighs—gripping as if he's trying to ground himself.

"W-what did you do." he says, breathing getting heavier—unstable as though the room had suddenly become too loud. His pupils dart around the room, taking in details all at once—the faint hum of the monitors, the washing machine still running somewhere down the hall, the distant traffic outside, and beneath it all, your heartbeat.

"I took it out," you answer simply, head tilting as your hand slides to his jaw.

"You…" He swallows hard, blinking rapidly. "Y/n…" his head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to suppress the arachnid genes.

"B-baby.. get off me," he gasps. Before you could protest, he gently—but firmly lifts you from his lap and set you back on your feet. He staggers a step away from the chair, one hand bracing against the edge of the desk—the other rubs over the back of his neck where the chip had been moments before.

"Jake, look at me."

His voice cracks, "Just… give me a second."

You take one cautious step toward him anyway. When you reach for his wrist, he instinctively turns to face you, but his eyes stop you in your tracks. The warm brown you know so well has vanished beneath an inky darkness stretching over his sclera. Every instinct in his body struggles to recalibrate as he was looks at you with overwhelming intensity.

Slowly, carefully, he reaches up and wraps a hand around your wrist—not tight enough to hurt, just enough to stop you from taking another step.

"Do you have any idea," he says, his voice rough from the effort of keeping himself composed, "what you just did to me?"

"Yeah Jake, I do." your free hand lifts up to cup his jaw.

"Don't." his jaw flexes beneath your palm. Yet instead of pushing you away, his grip on your wrist shifts, drawing you a fraction closer until your bodies are barely separated. His nose brushes lightly against your jaw as he takes one slow, controlled breath.

"Baby.. this is still you." Your hand slides up from his jaw to the base of his neck, scratching softly the way you know he loves. Jake almost growls at the feeling, teeth grazing your jaw as his hands snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. He simultaneously walks back until your calves hit the edge of the bed.

Jake knows what it feels like to lose control. The arachnid genes had spiked many times before and it was always the same. Always that same veil of anger over every thought, every decision. Jake Sim is not an angry person. Usually. He doesn’t get mad at anyone, especially not at you.

None of that matters right now, not when all he can hear is you, your breathing, the way your heart is hammering against your ribs at his proximity.

Jake's nose brushes against your jaw again, grazing until he reaches just below your ear. He takes in another measured breath, relishing in your scent. "Mm, haven't been able to smell you in weeks," he whispers quietly, almost strained.

"I know baby, isn't this so much better?" you ask, completely unaware of the heinous thoughts currently rummaging through your boyfriends head.

He pushes you back onto the linen sheets, crawling over you—his hands trail down your arms, lips in a grin you hadn't quite seen before. In one smooth motion, he pulls your arms up by your wrists, holding them together over your head.

"Uh-" Your eyes widen, looking between his charcoal eyes. "Jake—what the hell?" you say cautiously, mildly concerned.

"What?" he almost sneers, "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I want you to trust yourself more, you don't need—it." you answer firmly, writhing a little against his hand.

Jake's barely listening, his lips press hot and open-mouthed against your ear, "You wanted this." he breathes, licking your lobe harshly.

You suck in a breath, "J-Jake, are you even listening—"

"Mm," he hums, free hand pulling your face close by the back of your neck. He crashes his plush lips against yours, all teeth and tongue and your only response is a muffled noise against him.

"Jake—listen," you manage between kisses.

"Oh I heard you Y/n," his hand releases your neck, trailing down your neck, chest, stomach—down to your core.

"You pissed me off just to get me to fuck you harder didn't you?" he sneers, breath hot.

You pause, lips opening to say exactly nothing, stomach twisting sharply. Well.. no? You want your boyfriend to accept he doesn't need to suppress his DNA, but..

"Really?" Jake scoffs against your lips, his veiny hands push through the gap in your sleep shorts, to find your pussy completely soaked with arousal.

He lets out an amused breath, "Look at you.. this wet for me?"

You writhe in his hold, but to no avail. He doesn't even flinch—doesn't even need to readjust to keep your wrist in the hold of his long fingers. He's still breathing heavily, acutely aware of how hard your heart is beating in your chest.

"Nervous?" he purrs, lips jutting out into a mock pout.

"Shut up." you snap, pushing your face towards his. Jake's grin is smug, infuriatingly so, as he presses his mouth against yours. His fingers brush against your folds and he dips his head just to lick at your jaw—as if the taste of your skin was enough to soothe his hunger.

"Brat." he sucks your chin slowly, tongue brushing against your skin as his eyes flutter shut. By now your body is so so hot, and your cunts aching for him to do more than just play with your arousal.

"We should t-talk—about, ah-stop that," you say weakly.

His blackened eyes open, lips still wrapped around your chin. His fingers rub up and down your slit, slowly, with barely any pressure. Jake pulls back enough to look at your body bending into his, he laughs as he wipes the spit with the back of his hand.

"Then tell me to stop." he challenges, "C'mon."

You lips purse together as you breathe harshly though your nose, hyper-aware of his fingertips prodding your hole, barely enough to penetrate.

"Stop fucking teasing me." you hiss, teeth grit. Jake's eyes narrow, somehow darkening further if possible. He tuts, head tilting to the side. You are completely fucked.

His fingers release your wrists, but the thought of moving didn't even have time to enter your consciousness, because he had already webbed your wrists to the headboard. The warm thickness of his organic webbing has you completely bound.

And maybe you'd be happier about Jake being able to use his organic webs, (without a web explosion) if you weren't currently stuck in them.

"Jake." you warn.

"Such a fucking brat." he sits back, eyes flitting over your body, completely ignoring your protests. You whine feeling his hands trace down from your shoulders to your hard nipples. Your nipples are clearly peaked under your tee, Jake wastes no time tracing around them, agonisingly slowly.

The feeling sends shivers down your spine, "Jake—please."

He ignores you and presses one last agonisingly sweet kiss to your parted lips, then he licks down your neck to your covered tits.

You watch him through heavy breaths, his hair is messily falling over his forehead, his blackened eyes narrow in concentration, lips swollen and pink, and his cock is straining against his joggers.

He looks stupidly hot as he lolls his tongue out and licks over one of your nipples, rapidly flicking over the fabric. His eyes meet your half lidded ones and the corner of his lip lift in amusement at your body arching into his mouth. Fucking cunt.

"Jake—enough mmph, I get it— I fucked up." you grit, but Jake barely looks up and just continues sucking—one hand holding your arched body against him as his spit darkens the shirt.

"Still tryna be mouthy?" he asks between sucks. You writhe against the webs, shaking your head in a poor attempt for mercy. Maybe you thought pissing Jake off would get him to fuck you harder, but you didn't expect him to tease you until you were writhing and whimpering under him, like some common whore.

He releases your nipple with a pop, a smirk gracing his lips as his palm cups your slick pussy through your shorts. Instead of pulling the damp fabric down like any regular person, he rips them off. Easily at that.

"What the fuck—" you whisper, watching as his lip gets caught in his teeth, the way he it always does when he sees your cunt. Even behind the sea of black you could see the hunger, the heavy breaths as he composes himself.

"Just tell me what to do—please." you whimper properly, cracking just a little. His eyes almost light up, despite being completely soulless.

He shifts up, "Gonna cry? And I'm not even inside you." he whispers, breath hot against your ear.

Your jaw tightens slightly as you suck in a breath, "Not gonna fucking cry."

"No?" his fingers press into your cheeks as his free hand continues dipping ever so slightly into your dripping pussy. You shake your head once, breath mingling with his.

In one smooth motion he rips off his joggers and boxers. His long thick length springs up, bouncing against the tee he hadn't bothered to take off. Jake's entire body was in an overdrive he'd never felt before, not like this.

He was so fucking hard, an unusual amount of pre-cum beading on his mushroom tip. He leans over you, hiking your leg over his hip and thrusts hard into your sopping pussy, tip kissing your cervix. His lips part in a harsh groan as he studies the way your jaw hangs open with a shuddering gasp, your eyes are squeezed shut, tears pricking the corners.

You're so fucking full, panting as your cunt desperately tries to accommodate his pulsing cock, which felt..bigger?

"What's wrong Y/n?" he breathes teeth grit. Your pussy flutters around his cock, Jake's eyebrows furrow as his hips snap back and forth. His fingers are digging into your hips as he fucks you on his cock.

"F-fuck—Jake." you breathe barely, your head tilts back, tits bouncing with every thrust.

"What was that? Did you say harder?" he pulls you closer by your hips (despite your hands still being tied) and grinds so deep into your cunt you can feel the delicious pressure sending a wave of heat—rushing through your head. His head falls back as he groans and starts pounding again, faster this time.

"Nnngghh!!" your back arches, eyes fluttering, you pulse hard around his cock, feeling your stomach tighten, "God—Jake—please!"

He leans forward a little, "Please what?" he demands, cock curving perfectly against your walls.

"Please—please let me—cum," you cry, tears finally leaking down your face in thick droplets, broken moans vibrate through your body.

He moans low and lewd, the sound fills the room, along with the wet smacking of your skins, the evidence of his pleasure has heat breaking out over your body. Jake could swear this is the hottest thing he's ever seen, his cock twitches against your gummy walls, watching you whine and cry and blabber utter nonsense just because he's balls deep.

"I'll be—g-good-I promise I will Jake." you whimper, eyebrows furrowing as you pull against the webs, wrists now aching.

"Oh—yeah? You will?" he tilts his head, mimicking your whiny tone with the most patronising fucking pout you've ever seen. Were you not spluttering and writhing beneath him you'd probably be cussing him out but instead:

Your lip trembles, "Mhmm yeah, please- let me cum Jakey," He slows his pace, one of his hands slide up to your chin as he leans forward, still driving into you just at an agonising pace—keeping you on the edge.

His lips brush your jaw and his hot tongue traces your tear stained cheeks, "Sluts don't get to cum so easily baby." he says almost softly, still mocking.

"No-no—I'm sorry—please," The veins and ridges of his cock slide against the walls of your pussy, in and out, so so slowly. That tightness in your stomach stays stagnant, infuriately so.

"Shhh just let me—ah use you." Jake was deep enough to have your hips shaking with each thrust. His words getting broken by sharp inhales every time your pussy clenches, like it's trying to strangle the cum out his cock.

"Use—me nghhhhh-close—please i'll do anything,"

"Anything?" Jake breathes, responding faster than lighting.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you nod erratically. His hand shifts down to your thigh, holding your leg in place and his length stills, as deep as it can go. You were barely there at this point, spluttering and stammering. Mind completely numb.

Jake's cock grinds against your cervix as his hand snakes down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that send sparks flying down your spine.

"Gonna breed this pussy Y/n."

The knot in your stomach tightens, and all Jake can do is watch your beautiful face contort as he starts ramming past your swollen lips, sticky obscene sounds echoing through the room.

"Cum—now." he commands through a gritted pant.

The coils snaps past it's limit, sinking deep and bursting in the form of a clear-ish stream soaking your thighs and Jake's cock.

"—Ah holy fuck—you fucking squirted?" His hips stutter as he rides you through it, though your panting and crying.

Jake wasn't even bothering stifling his own noises, entirely entranced with how your pretty eyes roll back into your skull. With one final thrust his body lurches forward against yours, thick spurts of cum staining your walls as he pushes his swollen tip as far as it can reach.

Your head is lolled back as you pant, desperately trying to catch your breath. Jake was barely out of breath, if he was it was because he was still recovering from your pussy draining his balls dry.

The blue glow of the monitors cast harsh lines across the side of his face, it made that mean grin stretched across his face look even more sinister, if possible.

"Baby.. w-what are you—" he cuts you off and leans forward, kissing your parted lips as he reaches up to undo the thick webbing around your wrists, it was so abrupt you barely register as he guides your arms around his neck—lips still pressed to yours.

"On your knees."

"J-Jake—I can't—."

"Awe baby, you said anything remember?" He doesn't wait, just flips you over himself, you barely have the strength to hold yourself up on your elbows. Your cheek presses into the pillow as he enters your battered, sopping cunt, your eyes fluttering with a broken cry.

"Tell me you wanted—ngh this.." he breathes rough, watching your thighs vibrate beneath him.

You nod into the pillow, swallowing a thick glob of saliva before gasping through a sob. Jake's hips smack against the plush of your ass, skin rippling with each shove.

His rough palm stretches out, hand cocking back before cascading down against your ass with a piercing smack. Your back bends into a crescent with a noise that could barely be described as human, heat tingling around the area—burning in harsh waves.

"Use your fucking words. I know you can."

Jake sucks in a sharp breath at the feeling of your walls closing in, his enhanced senses amplifying the delicious suffocation of his cock. His eyes almost roll back, it was beyond dangerous and yet so fucking addicting.

"I w-wanted this—so bad—wanted you to fuck me—harder," your voice is hoarse, rough and muffled against the pillow.

"I-mmm I know you do."

His arm stretches out, huge hands grabbing your forearms, and pinning them behind your back. Jake pulls you back against his chest with one hand, breath ragged against your ear.

"You know, I can hear, everything Y/n." he derides, studying the side of your face with narrowed eyes, "I can hear your filthy cunt begging me for more, I can hear you struggling to breath on my cock." you whimper in response, apologies spilling out as he completely stills his movements.

"God Y/n, why didn't you tell me you're such a fucking slut." he drawls.

Your lips are wet with spit, your hair is falling over your face awkwardly, strands sticking to your parted lips. Jake's free hand, reaches around, his calloused fingers brush your trembling lips—sweeping the loose strands out the way.

He pulls the hair over your shoulder, holding it in a loose pony tail. His hips have stopped their relentless pounding, but his length is still buried deep, tip nudging that spongey flesh that has you spluttering weakly.

"Does my baby wanna make it up to me?" he purrs low, breath fanning your ear. You turn your head a little, lips jutted out, eyes glazed. Jake tilts his head, eyes boring into yours with a curve to his lips, one that has your stomach twisting.

"Yeah—yes Jakey I'll b-be good," your words come out as barely a whisper. Jake's fingers grip your chin, turning you further so his lips are brushing your wet cheek.

"Yeah? you gonna be a good girl? he whispers.

"Mhm yeah-I will."

He bares his teeth, tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

For the next however long, Jake would be in-between your legs, sucking and slurping at your used pussy, over and over. Usually he'd start slow, he'd kiss your thighs to your core, licking softly as his pretty nose nudged your nub, he'd keep going until you'd tremble beneath him.

But now? he's devouring your mixed cum, tongue lapping up the arousal like he's never gonna have the chance again.

His black hair is tousled under your hands, his lips are soaked with your arousal. Jake's completely focused on your writhing body and every intake of breath he hadn't been able to hear these last few weeks.

Your body writhes against his splayed hand across your stomach, it keeps you pressed down into the now soaked sheets. His tongue demands your attention, the muscle thrusts into your cunt at an alarming pace.

At this point your eyes had spent more time in the back of your head than on his, your hand tugging at his hair pathetically.

He pulls back for half a second, "Harder." His free hand hooks around your thigh, pulling you so his face is buried impossibly deeper into your cunt.

Jake's tongue alternates between licking at the milky arousal, and thrusting his tongue as deep as he possibly can, over and over, even as you cry and tell him you can't anymore. Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling as your thighs clasp around his head.

"Fuck—taste so fucking good," he mewls, even your slick is amplified in the sexiest way, he could probably cum at the the smell of your pussy alone.

You can't respond, not while your ears buzz, beyond overstimulated. You were both completely covered in a sticky layer of sweat, and each others cum.

At first you had tried to respond, but you'd lost the ability to think long ago, words spiralling into broken cries and gasps.

His fingers part your lips, slipping into your stretched hole, he revels in the way you cry out—back lifting off the bed for nth time. His tongue flicks your nub as his fingers plunge in and out setting a devastating rhythm.

Your vision has been fading in and out in waves, and your lower abdomen is sinking into a deep heat, entirely overwhelming.

Unintelligible words spill out in a voice you barely recognise as your own and all you can do is chant his name in-between sharp pants and whines. But even those words fizzle out eventually.

"Look at you, you can't even speak?" he rasps before filthily spitting directly onto your swollen bud, he adds a third finger, ramming it into you with the filthiest squelching.

His puffy lips suckle around your clit, hand still stretching across your stomach and your entire body jolts as your hand in his hair tightens into a fist. Your hips rock against his face, drowning in pleasure. An involuntary moan rips it's way out of Jakes throat against your clit.

"Go on, fucking slut, fuck yourself on my face."

You sob as your hips pick up the pace, pussy grinding against his tongue, even as your body lurches at the overstimulation. Jake's moan comes out low, almost a purr as he simultaneously stretches his tongue out, it dangles loose and wet, swaying side to side in a lazy, rhythmic motion.

The vibration has you locking up and your orgasm shatters through on you. A barely audible scream shakes through your aching body as your vision goes completely white. Your face is soaked with tears and sweat and your clit is aching in pulsing waves.

He groans low as your cum coats his lips and chin, his mouth suctions to your slit as he attempts to catch as much as he can. Jake's fingers don't slow, they keep that treacherous pace against the beaten walls of your pussy.

"Too—ngnh-much!" you whimper, all high and shaky.

"Really? You were begging for it earlier." he tilts head in faux innocence, zeroed in on every micro expression. God he's so fucking annoying.

"One more f'me." His fingers and tongue continue their assault as his cock ruts against the bed.

At this point there was no noises coming out your mouth, which was hung open. Your hand bats at his shoulders, toes curling in a feeling between pleasure and pain. His head cocks up a little at the batting, but when he catches your expression, he just laughs.

"I know you love this Y/n."

He shifts up onto his knees and finally removes his fingers and Jake pushes his hardened cock back into you. His long fingers knead your tit roughly, head tilting back as he chases his own pleasure, using your body, like you're nothing more than his fuck toy.

Your eyes flutter as you drift between consciousness, and Jake's hand finds home, splaying across your neck—with barely any pressure. It doesn't take much for his cock to burst thick pearly ropes of cum inside you, a few thrusts and he falls forward, panting into your neck.

His fingers find your clit pushing you over the edge once again, your teeth sink into his shoulder, a scream muffling into that tee he hadn't bothered to take off. Jake barely flinches at the pain, finally stilling his movements.

You collapse further into the bed as your shared pants echo though the room. The air is warm and heavy, carrying the lingering scent of sweat and tangled sheets, but neither of you find it in yourselves to care.

For a few minutes you both just lay there, completely spent, his cock still throbbing inside you, your cunt simultaneously pulsing. Gradually, you feel the tension leave Jake's body, his senses dull, and the hormone levels seem to settle.

His face is still buried in your neck, breath ragged, and for a moment you think his DNA was still fluctuating. But then he shifts a little, and pulls his head up to look at you. Instantly you notice the light had returned to them, bright brown eyes staring back at you instead of those bottomless pits.

"Y/n—fuck." His wide eyes look between yours—almost like he was assessing the damage, "Shit baby, did I hurt you?" he stammers, a little anxious and embarrassed.

"No Jake—I mean, in the best way." you say, he immediately notices how raspy and hoarse your voice is. He pulls back completely and sits up, his gaze darting over your face, your shoulders, anywhere he could find evidence that he'd pushed too far.

"Jake." your lips crook up into something soft and fond, his head snaps back up to your face, head tilting like a kicked puppy.

"I'm so sorry Y/n—I shouldn't hav—" you cut him off by snaking your arms around his neck, pulling his sweaty head right back down against you.

"Just shut up," you say against his hair, "You know I've been telling you to just trust yourself," You thread your fingers through his damp hair, scratching lightly against his scalp.

His limbs relax a fraction, arms tightening slightly around your waist. "I've seen you when you're fluctuating and that wasn't even 10% of your power." you continue, voice barely a whisper, "You controlled it."

For a second he doesn't say a word. Then you feel a puff of air against your neck and he buries his face further into you, "I hate that you're right."

For a moment you both stay in that same position, mind blank. Partially because he fucked you so hard your ability to form thoughts had dissipated. Jake's mind is also blank, well as blank as it can be when your senses, strength and reflexes are 40 times stronger than the average human.

"Besides, it was hot." you say after a moment, a small grin stretching across your face.

Jake lets out an almost breathless laugh into your neck, "Really was hot," he presses gentle kisses under your ear. You agree bobbing your head in a lazy nod.

"You loved it hm?" he asks pulling back once more, confidence returning.

"Jake."

He laughs softly, catching your lips as his palm rubs your hip slowly, trailing down. Fuck this man.

"Jake." you repeat between his kisses.

He hums low, vibrating right against you, but that doesn't stop his fingers from scooping up the pool of cum still leaking out of you.

You physically jolt as if electrocuted, "No- I am so serious, no more." you shake your head firmly as your hand wraps around his wrist—in a poor attempt to stop him. Average human vs a super human by the way.

"Relax baby." he purrs, unfairly sparkly puppy eyes on display. Even as your brain tells you not to listen, your body listens anyway.

His fingers push the seed back between your twitching lips.

"I told you I'm going to breed you, didn't I?"

PERM TAGS ـــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ @xionvlog @voucearse @chyukiz @angelshedevil @firstclassjaylee @shouldergangsterrj @multistanerrrrr @kristynaaah @mailovesreading @justpassingdontworry @wonkiipiilled @imsojuliaaaaaa @sugadaddymyg @cralessia @hauntsoul @simjyyyn

It was normal for you and Jake to text or call quite sporadically throughout his work day, him slipping away for a quick few minutes phone call or a short text prior to engagements. He didn’t have to, you made it clear to him numerously, but something didn’t quite sit right in his spirit if he didn’t make the effort to reach out to you in the midst of his hectic schedules. That day was no different — a brief text message conversation and a two minute phone call. However, it was different. His texts were shorter, more spaced out and disjointed than usual. His tone in the phone call was short and almost carried some air of irritability that you couldn’t pin point. Your boyfriend had mentioned in passing that it was one of those days, but you had no way of preparing yourself for just how tough his day was.

Jake usually made a habit of announcing himself as he let himself through the door; he had familiarised your reading habit and knew you were holed up in your shared bedroom — it was his attempt to not frighten you and let you know that he was not a burglar who happened to somehow have the key to your house. However, nothing more could be heard beyond the front door slamming shut. A frustrated huff that could be heard afterwards informed you that the door slam was not intentional. There was the shuffle of him slipping out of his outdoor shoes into the house slippers located at the front door, followed by heavy footsteps which grew closer and closer. Soon, your boyfriend’s body crossed the threshold of the doorway of your shared bedroom. “Hi baby,” you chirped, folding down the top folder of the page you were scanning and placing it on your bedside table. “Oh, hey love,” he murmured in response, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You eyed him carefully as he shrugged his bag off his shoulders and slung it to the corner of the room, as he actively endeavoured to forget about it for eternity. Your eyes squinted inquisitively, now knowing that your mind wasn’t running amok with thoughts of Jake’s inexplicable negativity. As he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, you decided to go straight for it. “What’s wrong?”

As soon as you spoke, his movements paused for a brief second, as if he thought he was doing a better job at hiding his emotions than he truly was. Jake continued to shed his outer layer without saying a word, the silence so stretched and thick that you thought he had ignored you completely. He finally responded after what felt like an eternity of no response. “Work was… a lot,” he started carefully. He didn’t turn to hold your gaze like he usually did and instead turned towards the vanity that sat across from the bed, slowly removing the few rings that adorned his long, slender fingers. Spying his face through the reflection in the mirror, his eyebrows were furrowed in clear agitation, jaw working through whatever unspoken carnality he held in his chest. “It’s not even like something happened in particular, I just feel… tense. Like I haven’t been able to really rest. It’s getting to me now.” His voice was gentle, despite all the physical attributes to his subdued anger. When he realised he could no longer stall himself by undressing himself from his outdoor accessories, he finally turned to meet your eyes. His eyes were soft, always were, but tiredness flickered within his orbs. He raised a hand to run through his hair, revealing the dark grey underlayer of his locks. Your eyebrows knitted together with concern. This side to Jake was not foreign to you, but it wasn’t common either. You hated to see him so bothered, so stressed, and not being able to take it away instantaneously. You opened your mouth, ready to spew a slew of ways for him to get his well deserved rest, until he spoke those faithful words.

“I need to relax.”

His voice suddenly sounded so small, so vulnerable and his facial expression suddenly loosened. Your heart pounded in your ears and heat raised to your face as you allowed your body to slowly settle. Relax didn’t mean what it meant to most people between you and Jake; it was a code word. Relax meant that he wanted to relinquish control for a few hours, forget about his responsibilities temporarily and, most importantly, submit. You thought you were mistaken, analysing any clues to inform you of such, but Jake remained determined. He stood very still at the foot of the bed, forcing himself to maintain eye contact despite every nerve in his body demanding to reject it. With a slow swallow, you took a deep breath through your nose and offered a slow blink. As arousal pooled in your most private place, what it took to position yourself where Jake needed you most took no effort at all. “You know what to do, don’t make me say it,” you drawled. Jake sharply took in a breath, as if to not have expected you to agree, but complied without a thought of hesitation.

As you slowly maneuvered your legs to hang off the side of the bed, the young man made his way in front of you. Your eyes never left his own as he sunk down, lower and lower, until his knees made contact with the floor below him. He fixed his eyes on you earnestly, eyes glossy with need for you. His lips glistened under the soft glow of the bedroom light in a dull manner from him licking his lips mere seconds ago. His venous hands remained on his clothed thighs, ever so trained and obedient. Your legs widened to accommodate his bigger frame while you leaned forward to caress your finger over his cheek. His internal battle was a quick and lost one — his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into your warm touch, as if to be the one thing he had been searching for all his life. Your heart softened, wanting nothing more than to scoop him in your arms and cuddle the night away, but you knew you didn’t truly want that. You knew he didn’t need that the way you knew he needed you. “Sweet boy,” you whispered, taking him in from his delicate lashes, the dusty pink which colored his cheeks, the the similar pink of his lips. At the affectionate title, his eyes opened up once again, not unlike a dog being called to its owner. Despite the pang of arousal it sent straight to your core, your carefully placed expression meant that it was something that Jake would fail to read.

“Yes?” He whispered. In the state he was in, he was like a sponge, so ready to soak up any and all words that tumbled from your lips. The hand caressing his cheek quickly moved to grip his jaw, ensuring there was no opportunity to escape your gaze despite how tempted he was to. The grip on his jaw allowed you to feel his veins move under his skin as he gulped. “What do you want me to do to you?” you quipped. Asking him a question when he was far gone was always a treat — you could almost see his mind searching for the words to string together if you looked deep enough into his eyes. He gulped once again, before his lips parted. “Please, I want you to touch me,” his voice said weakly. It was then that one of the hands raised to smooth over your thigh, his touch still grounding despite your sweats that covered your legs. While you could earnestly say that it was a trick that worked on you, it didn’t mean that you weren’t displeased with his behavior. Your eyes dropped towards his veiny hands wrapped around your thigh, then slowly back up to his own. Paired with your expression of indifference, it was an unspoken interaction that held a dictionary’s worth of words. Almost immediately. Jake’s hand retracted and fell on his lap once again, eye contact finally broken as he stared down at his lap in clear shame. “I-I’m sorry, please baby, please,” Jake whimpered. Tongue in cheek, you were swayed. A single gesture for him to get up was all that he required.

He rose to his feet almost immediately, large hands clumsily curling around the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head, exposing his lean figure. His torso exposed the efforts of his high intensity career, chest and stomach wound tight with toned outcome. Your eyes followed a particularly thick vein which protruded from his bicep as his shirt slid down his arm down to the floor by your feet. Your fingers made quick work of his belt which kept his dark slacks clung to his slim waist and soon it fell limply at his feet, prompting him to obediently step out of them. The sight of his boxers were not lost on you and you didn’t even think to pretend not to look. While he wasn't fully hard, the weight of the bulge was evidence of a man who was at least partially erect. If that didn’t inform you enough, a small, dark spot developing around the end of his bulge was evidence enough. Above you, Jake sucked in a sharp, shaky breath as his hands dutifully clasped behind his back. With a single finger, you curled your digit around the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down to his feet in one fell swoop. Jake, ever expressive but obediently silent, just barely stopped a tiny, strangled whine from escaping his throat. Though partially erect, the heaviness of his thick girth meant that his cock still somewhat hung between his thighs when released from its clothed cage. Saliva accumulated in your mouth immediately, but ever stoic, you remained appearing unaffected.

Then, you swung your feet back onto the mattress you were previously laying on and positioned your legs wide and far apart. The young man followed suit; carefully climbing on the bed and situating himself carefully between your legs and his bare, wide back pressed against your chest. From your position, you could see how his eyelashes fluttered, his pink mouth falling slightly ajar as if he failed to take in sufficient breath by breathing through his nose alone. You witnessed the moment that the hairs of his arms stood to attention the second your hand wrapped around his bicep, running your fingers over his skin while your other reached over to your bedside table to retrieve a bottle of lube. you had no doubt in your mind that the precum that Jake was producing and would go on to produce would be more than enough lubrication, however you were particular addicted to how much you could fuck Jake’s brains out with your hands alone — the slick provided by the lube never failed to make his brain dysfunctional. As his cock, still ever hardening, drooled onto his thigh with effort, you squeezed a generous amount of lube onto your palm before smoothing the substance over his girth. Though he tried to maintain the same resolve you held effortlessly, you could easily hear the way his breath hitched and his body immediately stilled.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock while your other hand took a firm hold of the rest of him, delicately spreading the lube over his length. “Tell me about your day,” you murmured. The hesitation from Jake informed you that it was the last thing he expected to hear out of your mouth given the context, but he would be stupid to not listen to you, not when your hand was so soft, so warm, gripping him just right. “U-Um,” he gulped, gathering all the words he could generate in that moment. “We had training for the choreography for the new - fuck - comeback, t-the snippet I played for you the other night,” he explained steadily yet breathily. His cock adequately slick, your fist started at a steady pace, stroking him with ease. His head lulled back against your shoulder as he released a small whimper, his length twitching and his tip still leaking into the crevices of your lithe knuckles. “Oh yeah, that sounded cool. I was thinking about what the choreography would look like in the shower this morning actually,” you hummed, tone level and passive as if they were sharing a conversation over coffee, not while you were effectively taking his soul with just the palm of your hand. As you responded, Jake let himself get lost in the sensation. You could tell he wasn’t truly connected to the chatter, and so you let him for some stretched seconds until you continued to speak. “What was the choreography like then?” you cooed, twisting your wrist expertly as your hand moved up and down. Jake whined lowly, his hands holding onto your knees. “It’s really fast and uh…” he trailed off as your pace quickened. The slickness of your fingers massaging his shaft filled the room with the lead sound, whir your eyes moved from his pulsating length to the man’s distant expression. He wasn’t far off drooling, you could tell. “Was it hard baby?” you urged him softly. “Yes! Yes,” he moaned.

Your pace slowed ever so slightly so the hand that gripped the base of his cock moved to his weeping tip instead. Your thumb pressed against the wet slit and moved the pad of your thumb back and forth, stimulating his most sensitive spot. Jake cried out and pathetically rutted against your hand, chasing a level of pleasure that you knew too well he would struggle to handle. Beads of sweat rolled in on themselves and ran down his face and onto his neck, where you carelessly flattened your tongue to lick it up and attach your lips. You started to suck and nip at the crook of his neck while humming in satisfaction. Jake was helpless at this point, heady and whimpering your name. “Please baby, please, please, pl-ease - oh my God,” he whined. His voice was beginning to crack with effort, and if you flicked your eyes up, the tears welling up in his eyes seemingly glittered under the room’s light. “Oh darling boy,” your voice softened after you detached from his neck. The spot bloomed a brilliant red, sure to bruise adequately as the evening grew. “What’re you begging for?”

The hand stimulating his tip dropped down to his balls and you took them in your hands, gently massaging them between your fingers while you set an unforgiving pace with your hand stroking his cock. He was rock hard at this point, tip wet and angry. Jake’s hand moved to the sheets underneath your bodies instead of your legs to grip them in between his fingers, knuckles whitened from the sheer strength behind his hands. Only further moans tumbled from his lips, your words clearly just passing through his ear canal uselessly. With a soft sigh, you immediately stopped your strokes in favor of simply gripping the base of his cock, the hand on his testicles favoring just simply laying on his twitching thighs. Jake’s eyes immediately snapped open in shock, a short gasp leaving his lips. “W-wait, why?” he mumbled in shock, his chest still heaving. “I said, what are you begging for?” you enunciated once again. The lightness in your tone was gone, replaced by the aloofness you had adopted prior. His eyes looked around wildly, as if to still be coming to terms with the sudden loss of stimulation. “‘S just a lot… just for you to keep going,” he explained with a quiet voice. You sighed silently and pressed a soft kiss against his rouge cheeks as your hand built up another pace. The hand on his thigh moved to similarly grip his angry dick, both hands now moving up and down. Almost immediately, his head lulled back against your shoulder as a deep groan left his throat.

Your eyes flicked upwards towards the vanity mirror across from the bed and you carefully spied Jake’s features. The sounds falling from him were devastating, but the sight was even better. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he attempted to swallow down saliva into his throat that was rapidly drying. Your bruising on his neck was apparent, tying the image of positive sin up nicely. “Oh, you’re so good for me Jakey,” you cooed. Your praise was sufficient enough to draw a broken whine from him, as if to be agreeing without saying such. Jake was shaking now, all over, while the little pathetic shreds of composure he had remaining was actively being destroyed. You could tell he was growing close. “S-so-so good, I’m so close- so close, I can’t hold it,” he whimpered loudly. Sure enough, his cock was beginning to twitch against your knuckles. On any other day, you wouldn’t have had a problem with asking him to hold it on account of the fact that he told you he couldn’t, but you weren’t that cruel — especially when he had such a tough day. “You wanna cum baby?” your voice softened. The only thing that could be heard in the room were the damn near disgusting slicks of your hands massaging his cock, his whines which were dangerously near to sobs and the shuffling of the bed covers beneath the two of you as his hips twitched and moved up to fuck himself more into your hands. “So bad, I-I’ll be so good, I pro-omise, please mama,” Jake moaned. As much as you’d like to say the unexpected pet name left you unaffected, the throb in your sopping core informed otherwise. However, you put up a good front; simply humming in response to his words and continuing your pace despite your wrists beginning to ache in a dull manner. You took a long minute to respond, despite the pitiable pleases and fucks that tumbled from his lips. You enjoyed when he was this far gone, at the mercy of your words and your fingers. While his cock twitched angrily in your grip, you leaned close to his ear while fixing your eyes on the mirror across from the bed belonging to the vanity table. “You better look at how pretty you look in the mirror while you cum for me,” you instructed gently. Ever obedient, Jake forced his watery eyes open and fixated on the mirror to the best of his ability, pink lips still uttering your name and other slurring profanities. “Thank you - oh fuck.”

Just as the words fell from his mouth, his hips thrusted into your fists one last time, urging his girth to spill hot, white seed on your knuckles in strong spurts. Your speed slowed but never ceased, your eyes spying the way his face flushed a deep red. A strangled cry ripped from his throat just as his orgasm wracked his body like a tidal wave. While he took prolonged blinks, his heavy lidded eyes remained trained on the mirror. You peppered small kisses underneath his ear while his orgasm rode its course, until his devastating whimpers reduced to heavy breaths, until his quaking thighs reduced in intensity. His head lulled back against your shoulder as he continued to catch his breath. You allowed him to catch his breath for a short minute before speaking. “You know better than to not clean yourself up,” you remarked flatly. Jake blinked blearily, lost but willing to be instructed. Carefully, you let go of his softening length with one of your hands and brought it to his mouth. Picking up his head, his shaky hands held your wrist carefully, as if scared to break fine china, and slowly licked up his own cum, humming while doing so.The hand left on his length began to stroke him again slowly, causing his rhythm to temporarily halt but overall fail to disrupt his flow. He dutifully flattened his tongue and clean the back of your hand, your knuckles, the crevices between your lithe fingers. Your breath hitched just for a moment, a crack in your armour, and you were sure that Jake didn’t miss it. It didn’t take long until your hand was completely free of his spilled cum and his focus was fixated on your hand moving on his cock once again, sending sparks of overstimulation through his spine. “‘S too much, please give me a s-second,” Jake protested quietly, as if he truly did not want to complain but his hand had been forced. Without missing a beat, your hand sped up and you cut him a look from the side. “Are you complaining?” you spoke simply. Immediately, he shook his head, but followed it up with a soft no upon realising you would not be satisfied with a non verbal answer. With that, you continued to stroke his cock mercilessly, ignoring his soft cries. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes once again, but he willed them to not overflow. Soon, his length stiffened once again and you freed him from his torture just as his cries reduced to moans once again.

Once he was rock hard once again, you gently tapped his shoulder. That was enough instruction to cause him to shakily get to his feet, breath still uneven. You got up behind him and began to strip down, pulling your top over your head and undoing your bra. Jake almost immediately settled back down on the mattress as soon as you got up. His eyes were still absent yet still remained trained on your body which you readily exposed. Soon, you were bare. Normally there was some healthy yet small level of self consciousness you felt being exposed, but you were so wet that it didn’t even cross your mind. “Oh fuck,” Jake cursed silently. He watched you climb over his body carefully, large hands gripping your hips to steady you and make sure you perform the maneuver safely. “Baby, you’re so pretty,” he murmured once you had settled down. His eyes raked over your neck, your breasts, your bare torso, your core slickened with your arousal caused by Jake’s unwavering obedience. You felt his cock twitch angrily yet pitifully against your thigh, the remnants of lube smearing against your skin in a memorable touch of your past activities. “You’re so pretty too, love,” you spoke softly. Your hand traveled up to his neck and wrapped your fingers around it, not quite applying pressure but simply fixing his head to position itself in a manner where he could not escape your gaze. Although he usually had no issue with maintaining eye contact when prompted, the effect of your action is not lost on him; a soft, stifled whimper could be heard from his throat.

“How bad do you want it?” you quipped with a small mischievous grin. Just as Jake parted his lips to speak, you adjusted yourself so you sat directly on him, your wettened folds sitting snug against his hardened girth. Almost immediately you moved your hips against him, a sigh falling from your lips as your swollen bud became stimulated from the friction created with his veins. You could almost see the moment you stole the breath from his lungs simply from staring into his eyes before. The man who once knew exactly what to say was rendered effectively speechless. Still, he wouldn’t disobey you. “So, so, so bad. I need you please — you’re so soft ‘nd tight ‘nd… warm…” he groaned lowly in response. Your cunt shamelessly drooled on his cock to the extent that strings of arousal dropped between you and him when you raised yourself slightly. You gripped the base of his cock firmly and tapped the head of his dick against your clit with enough force to make you jolt. The grip Jake had on your hips tightened as he swallowed down a moan dryly. “Please, I-I need you so bad,” he urged once again. All strength had been stripped from his tone and exposed the true desperation hiding behind it. If that wasn’t enough of an indicator in isolation, the tears that sprang to his eyes almost immediately informed you of such. Finally succumbing to his soft, devastating pleas, you lined his throbbing girth up with your entrance and slowly slid down, working your way through the brutish burn of the stretch. A soft hiss left your mouth, but the burn was addictive and meddled messily with the pleasure of the fullness. Thus, you didn’t hesitate for a second. Jake, on the other hand, was trying his dear hardest to not cum straight away. The iron grip on your hip which foretold of a nasty bruise told you enough, but his quivering lip and the few tears he had been painfully holding finally falling down the redness of his cheek attested to it further. It was only when your hips fell plush against his own that you let out a breath that you weren’t even actively aware you were holding.

You took a long few seconds to allow your walls to scramble around his cock, rushing to align itself and stretch around him. You simply breathed deeply through your nose while your hand dropped from his neck to one of his hands on your hip, picking it up in your grip and intertwining your fingers together. That was enough to ground the both of you, where the sensation of simply existing in that moment was euphoric. “S-So… hah, tight,” he moaned wantonly. Almost immediately. you slowly began to rock your hips back and forth on him. A soft moan fell from your lips, your head rocking back. Jake leaned forward and raised his other hand from your hip and moved to cup your breast in his veiny hand. His tongue darted out and laid against the underside of your nipple while his lips wrapped around it, sucking earnestly while whining against you. The sensitivity in your peaks shot straight to your core, coaxing more sounds of pleasure from you. “You’re such a good boy,” you cooed between soft pants. You began to bounce up and down, placing both your hands on his chest. The burn of the stretch was still lingering, but the pleasure crawling through your veins made you not mind it entirely. Jake’s mouth fell open, guttural groans escaping his throat. The few tears that had rolled down his face dissipated onto the pink of his lips, the wet trail being the only testimony to their presence. You could feel the slight tremble of the young man’s thighs beneath your own every time you descended on his length, but that wasn’t enough for you.

You adjusted yourself to get up on your toes, moving your hands to grip the headboard behind Jake’s head. His eyes suddenly went wide, able to participate in what was to come, but the only thing that left his mouth was raggedy breathing. While your own thighs were quaking slightly simply from the previous stretch of his dick, your newly found strength enabled you to begin raising your hips and slamming them down on his own with reckless abandon. Your hips raised until just the tip of his cock remained nestled in you, but brought yourself down with a force which knocked the length out of both your lungs. You were punishing yourself in the best way. The new angle meant that the head of his cock jabbed your sweet spot with perfect precision, making you whimper. “Ho-holy shiiiit,” Jake moaned shamelessly. The way his cock massages your walls perfectly was mind numbing, but it was something you couldn’t fully succumb to at the time; not when your status quo was making Jake jelly. It seemed you were succeeding; his arms fell limply at his sides and he looked up blearily at you, his mouth ajar and only mere whimpers of your name falling from him occasionally. It was as if he was between worlds of being unable to bear your punishing hips, what with his lingering oversensitivity, and also not being able to get enough of the way your cunt weeped around him and squeezed his cock, threatening to milk him of all the cum he could possibly spill for a week. Despite how far gone he was, he found enough strength to raise a hand to plant on your bouncing ass, helping you as the burn of your position crept along your knees and thighs. You were barrelling closer and closer to the finish, quicker than you previously anticipated. Maybe it was the way the slick of your pussy coated him more and more, making his girth glisten under the low light of the room each time you raised your hips, or even your sounds becoming higher as you became a slave of your own making, but Jake took notice of it immediately.

With an unexplainable bound of energy, his other limp hand snaked around your thigh to press his thumb against your clit in tightly-wound circles. Your gasp was noticeable, loud, uncontrollable. “D-does that fe-eel good mama?” he groaned lowly. “It feels so p-perfect Jakey,” you cried out. Your pace began to stutter, failing to carry the same depth as before. Ever observant, Jake’s grip tightened on your hip as he adjusted himself to be able to thrust up into you, meeting your weakened hip movements. Despite taking on physical control, you knew he was still under your thumb at your beck and call. “Make me cum baby, I’m so cl-close,” you panted, one of your hands on the headboard falling to his chest once again, but this time rolling his nipple between your fingers. His whimpers remained loud, his voice even beginning to crack from effort, but his fingers and hips never stopped even as his own orgasm loomed. “Yes baby,” he responded quickly. You began to move your hips once again to meet his own, resuming the deep strokes you were subjected to before.

It didn’t take long.

Burying your face into the crook of his neck, your eyes rolled back as your orgasm fell in waves over your body. “Jaaaake,” you moaned in a voice that did not belong to you. Your body shook like a leaf in the wind above him, the hand on his chest slowly becoming your nails dragging across his skin. Similarly, Jake’s voice cried out shortly after you as his length began to twitch within your walls unloading rope after rope of cum deep against your cervix. He too completely slumped under you, spent and more than satisfied. Your hips rocked slowly and gently as he filled you up, causing you to shakily moan. The both of you said and did nothing for a while, still and throbbing, warm and glowing. The hand in your hip drew idle nondescript shapes into your lower back, your breath radiating pure heat against his pulse.

You soon moved slowly, body still shaky, and reached for a small clean towel which laid close to the vanity table. You crawled over to your boyfriend and gently cleaned his softening length which caused him to whimper. “You’re a good worker, Jake,” you murmured as you gently cleaned between his thighs. Your eyes flicked upwards to meet his eyes. The same eyes met you, so ready to listen but this time, a little more worn down. His hair was mussed in his face, slightly covering his eyes and some stray strands stuck to his forehead by sweat. His face remained flushed but was gradually lessening in its rouge. His lips were swollen from repeated licking and biting. His breathing still somewhat uneasy, he reached for a water bottle on the bedside table and flicked it open, taking several deep gulps. You grinned softly, knowing he was already anticipating your instruction to hydrate. “You don’t need to be so hard on yourself, you know that.” He listened earnestly while you peppered kisses trailing upwards to his mouth: his thigh, his hip, his lower stomach, his abs, his chest, his neck, his jawline. You finally let your lips touch, soft and grounding. His hand raised to cup the side of the neck as his lips moved carefully against yours with care of a person that did not want to break you. He broke the kiss to take the towel from your grip and motioned for you to lay down beside him, which you did. Mirroring your past movements, he wiped in between your legs so gently that it felt like he was ghosting over you. It made you shudder. “I know, I think I just got… really overwhelmed today,” he mumbled. Tossing the towel aside, he took the water bottle he had just drank from and handed it to you. Just like him, you tipped it back and drank its contents, feeling refreshed. “At least I only have a radio appearance tomorrow… but… thank you,” he smiled gratefully. You were mindful in returning the smile as you handed him back the water bottle. “Anytime baby.”

As Jake sank down on the pillow beside you, the heaviness of his eyes were telling. You carefully untucked the sheets from underneath your bodies and threw it over the two of you. He immediately snuggled into the new environment, pulling you into an embrace. Your hand raised to his head to massage his scalp. His eyes immediately fluttered shut in response. As he drifted off, you paid attention to his body slowly falling slack around you, yet his grip on your waist remained firm. It was the gentle rhythm of his heavy breathing that brought you under finally.

“C’mon baby.. What’d I teach you? Use those words.” Jake looks down at you with furrowed brows, stealthily running his middle finger down your aching core, barely pushing past your creamy folds to see how you’d react.

Your head tips back, a whimper catching in your throat at the sensation—it feels like everything, but weirdly, nothing at the same time? “P-please, Jake.. Wan’ your fingers s’ bad!”

“There’s my girl. Wasn’t so hard, yeah?” His fingers dip back out of your pussy, faintly coated in the milky fluid that is your previous orgasm (and his). He lays beside you, gently elevating his upper body with spare pillows before patting his lap.

“C’mere, pretty.” You climb in between his legs with an eager and shaky breath, pressing your back against his chest. Jake’s warm and calloused palm skims over your thigh, his free hand wrapping around your waist to keep you in place.

“Lift them up f’ me.” You’re quick to oblige, hiking your thighs up and parting your legs. “There y’ go..” he murmurs, his warm breath puffing against your earlobe as he presses his lips against it.

Your body shudders at the sensation, fighting the urge to clamp your thighs shut as Jake’s hand slowly glides in between your legs, trailing towards your tender cunt. “Touch me, Jake—please!”

Your desperate babbles are cut short by a small, “Shhh,” before his middle and ring finger slowly stuff themselves inside you. You quietly gasp, the familiar sensation of his digits invading your slick, velvety walls and plunging into your spongy spot prompting your back to barely arch off his chest.

His grasp around your waist tightens, holding you down as your pussy spasms around him, legs trembling with every stroke of his fingers. “Ah-ah, baby. Y’ wanted this, right?”

All that escapes your mouth is a string of incoherent pleads and sobs, hips mindlessly grinding into his palm. Your puffy clit grinds against his rough skin, the pads of his fingers simultaneously pressing against the spongy spot that tenses your stomach.

The only apparent sounds in the room consist of your dripping, squelching cunt, your choked mewls, and Jake’s occasional praises. It’s so obscene—but all you can think about is releasing yourself on his hand and cleaning it up with your tongue.

“O-ooh, fuck! Need t’ cum, baby!” Your cry echoes through the room as Jake’s fingers continue stretching you open, repeatedly pressing against your spot until your fleshy, creamy walls clamp tighter and tighter.

“Oh yeah? This little pussy needs t’ cum? Y’ gonna clean the mess off my fingers?” He taunts as if it were a chore, but it’s all you look forward to doing. “M-mmhfm! Fuckfuckk!”

Your thighs flutter, the pressure in your stomach snapping as his fingers plunge into your pussy once more. Your mouth hangs open, toes curling, a surge of ecstasy rushing through you.

“C’mon, pretty. Make a fuckin’ mess.” Jake’s groan goes in one ear and out the other as your juices gush onto his fingers, sobbing and digging the back of your head into his chest.

Jake’s hard shaft presses against your ass as you cum on his fingers, and lord.. He did everything in his will to not cum (untouched). “Mphh, that’s it. Messy girl, aren’t ya?”

You chuckle softly, lips parting as Jake brings his orgasm-coated fingers to your lips. “Suck, baby.” Just as he utters the first word, his fingers get stuffed in your mouth. You hum in contentment, breathing through your nose as your head slowly moves.

It’s almost as if you were sucking his cock—gently rocking your head, tongue licking on the underside of his fingers. Your taste buds are infiltrated with the gooey, savoury mess that is your cum.

Jake’s boner is raging by this point, painfully poking against your ass and begging for any friction. The way you take his fingers, tongue swirling as you suck them clean.. It makes him think you were made for this. And you were!

“Oh—fuck, baby.. Last time? Please?” Jake whines against your ear with ragged breaths, tapping his leaking cock against your skin.

You’re in for a looong night.

But of course, riding with the girls is fun too.

Your focus can be a bit singular when Jake is around, so it's nice catching up properly. Together, you yell along to PinkPantheress with all the windows down, while Minjeong keeps her eyes on the road ahead. Slower songs in the group playlist give you chances to debrief, and laugh to the point of tears remembering some of the shit Aeri puts up with from some of the world's most questionable men. 

jaeyunie: How's the drive? 

you: it's really good actually i'm having a lot of fun rn, you're genuinely so jealous of all the fun i'm having i can't even talk rn i'm just so busy having fun without you.

jaeyunie: Wrong. You're so wrong I'm actually laughing at you, Yongie.

jaeyunie: I'm jealous of Minjeong getting to drive you around :( 

Jake is always… saying things. Things that give you butterflies, and then give your butterflies butterflies too. 

you: that could've been you.

jaeyunie: I KNOWWW I KNOW IT COULD HAVE I PROMISE YOU I KNOW

jaeyunie: Quit making me feel bad at work. 

you: soz. 

jaeyunie: Found out why Jaehyun and Yunjin broke up btw, more of an in person story though so remind me when I see you

you: YAYYYYYY can't believe they even dated genuinely how do they know each other.

jaeyunie: Discord !!! 

you: i have more questions 

“What you have, YN, is five seconds to put that phone down before I throw it out the window,” Yizhuo says, leaning over the centre console to scowl at you. “And if I hear a word about Jake Sim at any point in the next two hours, I'll throw you out the car too.

“I'm allowed to text my best friend,” you mumble, but you put your phone down anyway, tucking it under your thigh.

At the exact same time, in the exact same tone, all four girls say, “Ouch.”

“Best friend…“ Minjeong trails off, running a hand through her silky blonde hair. “I think you might have it worse than Aeri did with Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo was Aeri's ancient ex-boyfriend who used to smack himself on the head and call himself stupid whenever he made a mistake. Maybe if the thought wasn't so funny, you might have taken offence, might have stepped up to your or Jake's defence. In unison, Jimin and Yizhuo smack their foreheads and say, “Stupid, stupid Jungwoo.”

While you and Minjeong erupt into a fit of cackles, Aeri groans, slumping in her seat. “Don't remind me.”

“Wasn't he, like, forty or something?” you ask.

“He was thirty,” she corrects, defensive. “And that was two years ago, guys. I've done better.”

“I'd consider any guy who doesn't send shirtless selfies with the message, aren't I a big strong boy, to be better,” Jimin points out. “Even Donghyuck was better, at least he didn't send you any messages.”

“Jesus, I get it.” Aeri groans. “Can we go back to bullying YN for her made up problems?”

For a moment, no one says anything, and eyes dart around the car while trees and stretches of motorway blur by through the window. This thing with Jake — your friendship — has become a source of mild irritation with the girls, a bit of a touchy subject. Something you complain often about though make no effort to change. Attempt to change. Relationships, of all kinds, take two unfortunately, no matter how desperately you wish you could take control of Jake's brain and rewire him to like you back. For fear, perhaps, that Aeri's comment might have hurt you, it seems the silence is yours to break.

“You're on your own, Aeri. Yizhuo said we're not allowed to talk about him,” you say, turning the radio up so loud that SZA's new single makes the speakers rattle. 

“No, she said you can't talk about him.” Minjeong turns the volume right back down. 

“Yizhuo?” you ask, desperate for her to agree with you. 

“I'll allow it.”

“You like him, he likes you—your problems only exist in your weird, YN brain,” Jimin says, speaking for Minjeong. And apparently for Aeri and Yizhuo too if their disjointed chorus of, exactly, is anything to go by. 

There's no restraining the pit in your stomach. You've seen Jake like someone before, seen it a million times. How he turns to mush when a pretty girl so much as smiles at him, goes out of his way to be wherever she is. You know they're wrong, and that only makes your stomach feel worse. 

Jake tells you absolutely everything, whether it concerns you or not, anything he finds out is something you're going to find out as well. The guy's an open book, with you at least, and can't lie to save his life—by omission or otherwise. If he fancied you, you would know. In fact, he would have told you as soon as it occurred to him, blurted it out. 

“Only one of those things is true and I don't want to talk about it,” you say, unlocking your phone to text him again. 

At your request, they drop the subject. Minjeong goes on a rant about how the dress she ordered for graduation arrived yesterday, one whole month after the ceremony.

you: are you really not coming at all……..

you: you used to be so fun dude i miss you

“YN!” Yizhuo yells, reaching for your phone. 

“Done! I'm turning it off, see?” It does not help that you have a picture of Jake as your lock screen, which shows as you hold the power button. For the sake of your phone, and your life, you make a show of opening your bag and shoving it to the bottom before pulling the zipper shut. “Happy?”

In the rear view mirror, Yizhuo grins, leaning back and closing her eyes. “Very.”

At the rest stop, all of you get out to stretch your legs and pee, grabbing enough snacks to feed a small country before piling back into the car where Jimin takes over for the rest of the drive. You fall asleep as soon as you rest your head on the window, bass buzzing against your skull as your eyelids get heavier and heavier. 

It's only one long blink until Jimin parks in the driveway.

The Kim family holiday home is a sight to behold. A sprawling wood-clad fortress by the beach that has seen you at your best and your absolute worst. You and your friends have spent summer after summer visiting this large slice of heaven on earth, hoping its original pine floors and floor-to-ceiling kitchen windows will keep all of your secrets. So much has happened here, changed here, it's hard to believe you only stay for one week at a time. That so many of your life's keystone moments could be boiled down to twenty-eight sweaty days over the last four years. 

On the couch in the den, Aeri gave you first and only tattoo, a shaky five-pointed star right between your shoulder blades that your mother still hasn't seen even after three years. That was the summer before you and Jake spent two rounds of sardines hidden in the wine cellar. Pressed chest to chest between cool rows of sauvignon blanc, it's the closest to kissing you two have ever gotten, and you're certain if his phone hadn't started ringing, your lips would have bridged the centimetres-wide gap. And maybe then, you would have had something to talk about before bed beyond, that was… and, yeah, it was. 

When you get to your room at the very end of the hall, you dump your bag by the door and throw yourself onto the bed, spreading out like a starfish. It feels huge without Jake here to share it. Whether or not there's any real need for you to share a room on this trip is up for debate, but for as long as Jake doesn't make a complaint, you won't either. That first summer, you won rock, paper, scissors and got first pick of a room all to yourself, Jake lost and got stuck sharing with Jay. Before bed that night, he came to check on you and fell asleep at your side. It happened the next night too and by night three, with your heart pounding against your ribs, you suggested you might as well share the room. He agreed. 

On the pillow by your head, your phone vibrates. It's him.

jaeyunie: I have a job, dude. You gotta try it !!!

jaeyunie: I miss you more though :( 

you: i have a job too you know. i work at the very beautiful woman factory

jaeyunie: Ohhh I get it now…that explains a lot

jaeyunie: You're employee of the month then, yeah?

The great big grin stretching your mouth is humiliating, even in a room by yourself.

you: i've heard this before jaeyun thank you

you: wyd

He replies with a selfie, he's lying in bed frowning, the sweetest thing you've ever seen. On the wall behind him, you see his steadily growing collection of Polaroids. You're in almost all of them. 

jaeyunie: Tired af rn I'm gonna slump very soon wbu send a piccc

jaeyunie: Texting w one eye open wanna see you before the end

you: and you look very cute doing it

At his request, you take a selfie right where you are — after tilting your head a little to show your bare neck and tugging the neckline of your tank top down just enough to show the top of your lacy bra and adjusting your boobs in said lacy bra to make them look a bit bigger — sending it without thinking too hard about it.

you: our bed feels so empty bruh what are you doinggggggg

Jake types and deletes for a while before his message finally comes through.

jaeyunie: Noooo darling I'm sorryyyyyyy

jaeyunie: My pretty Yongie holy shit look at you

jaeyunie: Yk if I could be there I would bruh. I'm requesting PTO for next summer as we speak

jaeyunie: Fuck I really miss you :(

The squeal that comes out of you is wretched. Worse than the grinning from earlier, the grinning you haven't quite stopped doing as you writhe around on the bed. Maybe it's for the best that he's not coming this summer, he'll miss you more. And text you all about it. 

A throat clearing in the doorway snaps you out of whatever chokehold Jake seems to have on you from the other end of the country. It's Yizhuo and she's not pleased. 

you: yizhuo has a Water Gun so i have to go but sleep tight ok ily + imysm 

jaeyunie: Ilymmmmmmm

“I'm up, okay? No more Jake, I promise. Just put the gun down,” you plead, getting up from the bed and leaving your phone face down on the sheets. In the doorway, she doesn't budge, only closing one of her eyes and aiming the bright orange nozzle with one arm. “I'm coming, Yizhuo. It's alright.” In a very brave display, you don't even jump to check your phone when it vibrates. 

You make it out unscathed, joining the rest of the girls in the kitchen. Open cans of beer litter the worktop, and Jimin's speaker plays at full blast. You can hear Travis Scott so clearly you're not convinced he's not yelling in your head. Locating the blender is a five-woman task, and you celebrate by making a heavy handed cocktail while waiting for the takeaway Minjeong ordered in advance to arrive. 

Tonight is girls’ night, the first of the summer so far. Tomorrow, the guys will arrive and your group will be mostly complete. On Sunday, your birthday, Sunoo finally gets back from Erasmus, and everyone else will be here for the rager you throw every summer. 

Everyone but Jake anyway.

Minjeong's garden — her mum's garden — is beautiful, always more so than you remember during the gloomy remainders of the year, when you're lying in bed at night, replaying your summer memories and trying to fall asleep. Tipsy lengths swam across the pool; falling asleep on the linen couch, just out of sight behind Ms. Kim's pink cosmos; crawling through the gap in the fence to get their teeny private strip of rocky beach to skinny dip in the ocean—when it's quiet enough, you can hear the tide kissing the shore. An otherworldly saturation permeates the entire yard and even photos don't do it justice. Brilliant turquoise swimming pool and lush green grass. If your friends notice it too, how brightly everything shines out here, they don't mention it. Nothing bad could happen to you out here, you're certain you could weather any storm on earth if it was happening in this garden. 

With the long table and sliding glass doors at your backs, the five of you sit on the warm concrete by the pool, an excess of takeaway bags and boxes strewn between you. It's not so much a sharing platter as it is a, this is my dinner for tonight and tomorrow until we eat out on Sunday, situation. As nice as the quiet is, just you and the girls and no threat of being thrown into the pool by Heeseung and Sunghoon, it's a little strange without the boys. Jimin pushes her container away, every last morsel of jalfrezi eaten up, while your dinner still hasn't arrived. You watch as she sighs into the night sky, leaning back on her palms and envy her full stomach while yours rumbles quietly. 

“I don't know why you insist on ordering from Ayaz every summer when you know how long they take,” she says when she catches your eye. 

You toy with a loose thread on the hem of your nightdress. “It's my favourite.”

“Favourite? They're not even the best Greek place on the high street,” Minjeong points out. 

And she's right, unfortunately. Last summer, you and Jake took a trip to Gyros Heaven after the club and well… went to actual heaven on the first bite. However, though apparently none of your friends care, tradition is tradition, and when you first came here, you and Jake ordered from Ayaz and what followed was the best summer ever. Too much is changing this summer, too much already has changed. Graduation, job offers across the continent. In other continents. This could be the last summer you all get together like this and no one seems to care. Jake isn't even coming, and the other boys are skipping the first night. You've already checked the Nessfest website five times since you came outside, just to make sure something hasn't happened to cancel the whole thing.

Call it superstition or batshit crazy, you will have your chicken and lamb gyros with a bucketload of tzatziki to dip it into no matter how obnoxiously late it arrives. It's reliable, as close to something you can control as possible, their constant latecoming a complete non-variable—maybe the only one you have left.

You check the Nessfest site again. Refresh your emails. Reread the ticket confirmation. Text Jake.

you: do you ever feel like everything is changing in a way that none of us have any hold over haha

“It'd be kinda funny if they arrived early for once though,” Aeri says. “Like symbolic, you know? We've finished uni, we're starting our careers — our lives — maybe Ayaz could do with some change too.”

“I think I would shoot myself in the face if that happened,” you say, but it doesn't come out as light-hearted as you'd like for it to. 

Yizhuo lets out a surprised chuckle behind her cup, lips swollen and red from her extra hot tteokbokki. “Are you okay?” she asks, seeming truly concerned. 

You nod, smiling, even though you wish desperately for Jake to show up somehow. Materialise out of thin air or something, lift himself out of the pool and say, surprise! That was really funny, Yongie! HAHAHA that was just so silly! Isn't she so silly? He'd know you meant what you said, but he'd be able to swing it well, to add to it with his universal charm and help you land. Laugh first, properly, so you and everyone else could join in. 

“Well if they came early I wouldn't have gotten to sample your dinners, check for poison and all that,” you point out.

To this, they laugh, genuinely. Thank fuck. It's easy to laugh now that they are. 

Now that Aeri's laughing even harder as she turns her phone for you all to see. It's a picture of Jay leaning against one of the walls in the student union, posted to Sunghoon's Instagram story. He's dead asleep with his eyes and mouth half-open. To his credit, Jay's a good drinker. Never too rowdy or too emotional. Nor too argumentative or romantic. He's sleepy though, more so than usual. This photo is just one more in a folder of near-identical photos. Jay sleeping at the dinner table, Jay sleeping on the driveway of his childhood home. If you can think it, he's slept there. In the queue for Thirsty Thursday after pres. And, though not photographed, once during sex. 

“Well, it's nice to know he's enjoying the Pickle Club party they absolutely couldn't miss.” Yizhuo rolls her eyes, taking an irritated bite of her last chip. “Come on, it's gonna be our last time seeing some of those guys.” Her Jay impersonation is scarily accurate. “Suck my dick, Jongseong.”

You and Jimin can't stifle your laughter, exploding into cackles when your eyes meet. 

“At least Jaeyun has an actual excuse, if he can't get off work it can't be helped, but the rest of them… I swear to fucking God—” Minjeong cuts herself off with a sip of her drink. “Whatever.”

“It's not like he works weekends,” Yizhuo points out.

The desire to leap to Jake's defence is overwhelming, second nature even, but you bite your tongue. You had the same thought when he told you he wasn't coming. Asked if he couldn't even make it just for the weekend. I don't know if it's worth driving so far just for a night or two, Yongie, he said, while you tried not to burst into tears or punch him in the face.

“How about no boy talk?” Aeri suggests, taking a screenshot and sending the picture to the groupchat. All of your phones light up at the same time, buzzing against the concrete. “Not until they get here anyway, can't really avoid it then.” 

As soon as she says it, a message from Sunoo lights up your phones once more. It's a screenshot of the folder in his phone with all of the Jay sleeping pictures in it and the total is at 400. 

“If they get here,” Yizhuo mutters, raising her glass. “Cheers, then.”

All of you raise your drinks and clink them overhead, as a chorus of cheers! rings out loud enough to settle the unease in the back of your mind, even if only for a moment. You take a slow sip of your sun-warmed beer and the doorbell goes behind you.

Your dinner is here, right on time. 

The night slips away before your eyes, and it doesn't feel like long until you find yourself brushing your teeth after a cool shower in the en-suite. It's weird not seeing Jake's things with yours on the countertop. His cologne in the light blue bottle, his watch next to yours between the sinks. The bedroom is worse though, by far, one suitcase and one pair of house shoes. One body in the bed.

As much as you love this house, you hate this bedroom. All of its large windows are on the right side, giving you a beautiful view of the beach, the water. At night, the moonlight kisses the ripples, making it glitter. Having this ocean view however, means the lighthouse at the end of the dock casts its blinding beam into the room with a startling frequency. Even with your eyes screwed shut, you can see the shifting light behind your eyelids. 

Your phone lights up as soon as you get comfortable, Jake's name on your screen, stinging your eyes.

“You alright, Yongie?” he asks, calls out more like, as if he wants you to hear him over the distance and not just through the phone. 

Holding it an arm's length, you ask, “How drunk are you?”

“I just saw your text,” he says, ignoring the question you asked, but his softer vowels and higher pitch answer for you. He's tipsy. “Thought you were excited to spend time with the girls tonight, darling.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling your cheeks burn. “I was just being stupid that's all.”

Jake says nothing and over his silence you hear the boys laughing. Hear the opening and closing of a door muffle the laughter.

“That was actually your chance to tell me I could never be stupid.” To this, you hear his smile so clearly it's like he's here with you now and despite the ache in your chest, you can't help but smile too.

“I was thinking, Yongie,” he says. “I get it freaks you out, and that's valid, but I don't think everything's changing.”

“Ever heard of hyperbole?” 

“Ha ha. That was really funny, Yongie. Aren't you just so silly?” There's some rustling on his end before he speaks again. You can picture him quite clearly, lying down on the end of his bed, his hair covering his forehead, long enough to graze his eyelids by now surely. “How about we try and think of something that's never going to change so you can focus on that instead?”

If you'd been having this conversation last summer, you would have said this trip with no hesitation, but even this, your teenaged promise with — at the time — Jake's friends, feels less and less secure with each passing minute. Slipping like sand through your fingers. This summer, here, right now, you've got nothing.

“How about I come up with something?” he suggests after a while.

“Please.”

Jake doesn't seem as stumped as you, continuing right away. “You love me, right?”

“Sure.” You chew on your lip, concerned like you've made some grand admission, bared some precious part of yourself for him to look at. To hold up to the light and inspect. 

Another audible smile takes over his voice. “And you know I love you too, Yongie. That's not going to change.”

Heat lashes your cheeks, coats you from head to toe as your heart thumps away in your chest. That Jake can speak so definitively, with such conviction always scares you. He might be the most sincere person you know, completely earnest for earnestness’ sake no matter what. Everything he cares about he gives the utmost attention to, and you're no exception. He's proven that time and time again, he's proving it now. And yet, that nagging voice in the back of your mind won't quiet.

“But—”

“No, YN,” he says, interrupting you. “But nothing, I always will and you can count on that.” There's a certainty in his voice that forces a flutter in your stomach, a smile on your face. A certainty that makes you desperate to believe him. It feels like a necessity. “Change can be a good thing, you know. I think most of the time it's a great thing,” he adds.

“Why is it so scary then?”

“I'm not sure, darling,” he says quietly, like he really wishes he could give you an answer, like he's disappointed that he can't. 

You sigh and he yawns, though he vehemently denies sleepiness when you accuse him. “Good night,” you say anyway.

“Good morning,” he says, and it's the start of an endless back and forth.

The sound of the smile in Jake's voice only makes you smile too, heats you up from the inside out and reminds you just how lucky you are to have him at all, whether he's right next to you or on the other side of the country. “I'm really glad we're friends, Jake.”

A moment passes before he speaks, you can't even hear him breathing down the line. “Yeah, Yongie, I know,” he says before clearing his throat, sounding more awake than earlier. “I'd better get back to the guys. See you when you're back, yeah? I miss you already.” 

Jake doesn't even wait for your response before he cuts the phone and you can't keep your eyes open for long enough to think much about it as you fall asleep. 

Nessfest is a geographically confusing Loch Ness-themed carnival hosted on the east coast of Scotland. As is tradition, you attend every summer and spend the whole day catching sun and eating pastries. And like every year, you are staunchly against getting on any ride that can just be thrown up and taken back down again at a moment's notice, so you're stuck holding bags while everyone else straps themselves into swinging lawsuits waiting to happen. Without Jake, who's scared too, you have to do it all on your own, taking your job of live-texting him updates very seriously.

you: aeri threw up after the tilt-a-whirl

you: again

The sun is relentless, baking the concrete and your skin. Your feet are already tanning around the crisscrossed straps of your sandals, paler bands of skin on your shoulders where your tank top straps rest. Alone under a parasol next to a ride with five loop-de-loops in a row, you're on high alert, craning your neck and trying to spot the guys in the growing crowd. They were meant to meet you at the house this morning, but last night's drinking rendered them horizontal until noon. 

And that is okay. Change is okay. 

Inhaling slowly, holding the breath, and exhaling slowly is easier in the shade, but there's nothing you can do to stop the sweat beading along your hairline, no matter how many times you pat it away with the back of your clammy hand.

you: what are you even doing rn

you: please tell me if you're sleeping it's in the car next to hee otw here :/ 

“There she is!” Jay calls out in a hoarse voice, waving with his whole arm when you turn around. At the sight of him, and Heeseung and Sunghoon trailing behind, your stomach drops. Jake really isn't coming. It's strange seeing everyone without him. Seeing the boys without him. He was your first friend, your only good friend until you went to uni together. And even then, all the friends you have now were his friends first.

If it weren't for all the handbags you were wearing, you'd have jogged over to meet them halfway, but alas. They're gracious enough to do the jogging on your behalf, all three of them pulling you into the middle of a group hug and jumping around you. There are more long, sweaty limbs than you'd like to be embraced by at any one time, but you've missed them so much you can't find it in yourself to complain. Not properly anyway.

“Any chance you left someone in the car?” you ask, squinting up against the sun at them. 

Heeseung pulls air through his teeth and shakes his head. “Sorry, princess.”

“No worries though, birthday girl. You won't even notice he's not here!” Sunghoon grins for a split second before pressing his lips in a flat line, saluting and standing at attention like he's ready to serve his country through the fulfillment of Jake duties. “Can't share the bed though, bossman said no way,” he says, taking the girls' bags from your shoulders, so he can carry them. You don't stop him when he takes yours as well. To his credit, he looks kind of wonderful, a buff, compression-shirt-wearing ten out of ten with five handbags slung over him. 

“Give me some of those,” Heeseung mutters, taking Jimin's and Minjeong's bags for himself. “Making me look bad.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “You do that on your own. Look after your fucking hair, man.”

It's hard not to laugh at that, at least until Heeseung cuts his eyes at you anyway—that shuts you up quite quickly. Now that the guys are here, there are more targets for the line of fire, and you're not about to do the noble thing and take the fall for Heeseung. You wouldn't even do that for Jake. 

you: stupid stupid jungwoo son or heeseung's fried hair daughter? 

Unconcerned with how he looks, Jay cranes his neck to watch as the Loch & Key hurls your friends through the air. “Are—uh… are you guys mad at us? For missing last night?”

“Not any more than usual.”

He hums, resting his hands on his hips. “That's good then. A relief, I guess.” 

Ice cream wielding children rush by you, glittery green butterflies and purple thistles painted on their smiling faces. Their soft laughter makes you grin as their exhausted parents, miniature backpacks slung over their shoulders, trail after them, weaving through you and the boys while mumbling their apologies. Jake would think it adorable if he were here, clutch his heart and coo over their tiny giggles and hurried waddles. He's always been good with kids, relating and playing with your little cousins better than you ever have, braiding hair and coaching football. He'll be a great father and his children will be very lucky. His partner. It's easy to imagine him running after his own kids like that, keeping up though, and happy to do it. Just the thought of it, future Jake, father Jake, warms your skin, your cheeks. 

Meanwhile, present Jake, childless Jake, is ignoring your texts. Missing your birthday. You turn to Heeseung who's scrolling on his phone. “How was Jake before you guys left? He's airing me.”

He lifts his head at once, affronted by the very notion apparently. “Nah, no way. He drank the most last night, for sure. Didn't even wake up to say bye, dude's gonna be hungover 'til at least Christmas.”

A grin splits your face at the revelation that he's suffering for his crimes against you and your date of birth. The universe is fair and just after all. “Was it worth it at least? Your Pickle Party?”

“Pickleball, YN, ball,” Heeseung corrects, though Pickleball Party is not as fun to say. “I was fucked, man, can't really remember it if I'm honest. How about you though, how was your night?” 

“I figured as much, we saw the photos, but my night was so good.” You're not even exaggerating, you hadn't realised how much you needed time with just the girls until you got it. “And I have all of my memories.” 

“I remember enough to know Jake was with me and not you so…“ He shrugs with a shit-eating grin on his face, and he's very lucky you love him because if not, you would have pushed him to the ground instead of nodding nod with your jaw clenched, and muttering, yeah, well. 

Free from Loch & Key's deep blue clutches, the girls stumble down the stairs and into the waiting arms of the boys. Anyone watching might think it had been years since they'd seen each other, rather than a handful of days. It wells your eyes to see them all like this, overjoyed already just by the promise of the next few days spent together. Meanwhile, you struggle to adjust to the sight of them without Jake, feeling the void already. At least you've had time to get used to missing Sunoo, seeing as he left a year ago now, but even he'll be here tomorrow. As Jimin reaches out to pull you into the group hug, you think of Jake. Miss him.

you: what time do you get in tmrw?

suntori: like 9 pm ish at the airport and then ten thousand hours in the car to get to the house

suntori: pls get me a nessfest '26 shirt !!!!!!

“To the bar!” Aeri calls out, pointing in the direction of the margarita truck you frequent.

Heeseung actually shudders. “Sober weekend for me I think, sorry guys.”

Even though he mumbles his agreement, Sunghoon is the first to follow Aeri, Jimin, and Yizhuo through the crowd. Around Heeseung and Jay's waists, Minjeong snakes her arms. “Hair of the dog, boys,” she says, pulling them. “Hair of the dog.”

Under an air conditioned gazebo, you crowd around a picnic table and Jay buys you an Irn Bru margarita in a pitcher. Sitting across from you, Sunghoon tries the first sip of it and hums, his eyebrows knitting together. “It's good, you know. Surprisingly.” He slides the pitcher back over to you, but you slide it back.

“We can share it.”

As if terrified by your offer, his eyes widen and he shakes his head so hard his sunglasses slip from his hair down onto his nose. “No way, YN, I actually can't. Because you'll want me to drink again tonight and tomorrow and for the rest of the week. What do you know about moderation?”

“Not much.” You shrug, taking the drink in your hands and moving the straw to take a big gulp. It is good. Surprisingly. 

you: having a pitcher of irn bru marg u are so jealous rn

To sober Sunghoon's credit, he does a pretty good job as a Jake stand-in. Holding all the bags and phones while you sit in the shade, even standing if there's only one seat free so you can take it. The two of you eat candy floss and caramel coated popcorn while he gives you a play by play on last night's jaunt and follow the group from ride to ride, passing a yard glass of melting blue raspberry slushy back and forth. He even tries — and fails — to win you a stuffed animal to add to your collection. As the sun inches lower and lower, the crowd only gets denser, the lines longer. You and Aeri wait twenty minutes to use the toilet, shuffling into the same stall because the attendant is too busy scrolling through short-form videos with her volume on full blast to stop you. You pee first then Aeri goes. 

“I feel like a grandma, dude. I'm tired already.” Laughter and squeals and techno music muffle her voice as she shimmies her jean shorts back up over her hips.

Only when you've fully processed what she said does a groan rumble in your throat, agreeing wholeheartedly. There are still nine hours until midnight, never mind whatever godforsaken time it'll be when you crawl into bed and sleep. Alone. “Call me Jay the way I'm gonna nap at any opportunity.” You lean against the stall door with your mouth open and your eyes half-shut to make her laugh. 

“Him and Heeseung are kinda opposites like that, don't you think?” she asks, following you to the sinks. “Heeseung only has to close his eyes to fall asleep and that's before a drink.” 

“Was that last year or the year before when we lost him because he was sleeping behind the marg truck?” 

Aeri cackles, shaking her wet hands out in front of her. “Could Heeseung Lee report to guest services?” she says in a flat tone, just like the tannoy that had blared through the entire festival that day. “That's Heeseung Lee to guest services, please.”

You leave the toilets with your sweaty arms linked together, only to find everyone laying out in the grass. Sure enough, when you reach him, sober Heeseung is dead asleep on his stomach with his head on his arms.

you: was i annoying on call last night or smth… my bad my bad

To this, finally, Jake replies and right away. 

jaeyunie: Neverrrrr ❤️

jaeyunie: I miss you sooooooooo much

jaeyunie: Can call before bed if you're free? Facetime and we can watch Bee Movie if you want

you: ok. i miss you an adequate amount. i always want.

Next on Yizhuo's tight schedule, is the least intimidating, but by far most popular ride at the whole festival. The Rock Ness Monster—a Viking ride with peeling green paint where the boat curves towards the bottom. She bumps your hip with hers. “Are you two coming with?”

“Who's gonna hold your bags if we do?” 

“Ugh.” Sunghoon's head falls back, clearly sick of standing around while all the slightly terrifying, so-called good stuff happens on these insane portable roller coasters. “Don't be such a baby, YN. Even Jake can ride a viking boat.”

“Wow, Hoon,” you say, nudging his ribs with your elbow. “It's almost like we're two different people.”

At his side, Minjeong actually laughs out loud. “Could've fooled me.”

The burn in your cheeks is immediate, the sting behind your eyes. That no one leaps to your defence, that you feel like someone else should in the first place, is unsettling. Embarrassing, more like, to stand there, sandalled feet glued in place, body heavy with alcohol stirring in your sinking stomach, sweat laden and overheating. Saying nothing while your friends look around at one another and Jay mutters, “God damn.”

“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes. You're not in the mood to argue, not sure if you even have much of a case, so you leave everyone's bags at your feet and take the first step towards the Rock Ness queue. “Let's go then, since you all want to so badly.”

You walk quickly and blink even quicker, the only thing that could possibly worse would be to cry and bring the mood down. It's not even really that serious. Not at all. Your friends follow in silence while you pull out your phone to text Jake. Do you think I'm too dependent on yo—sense and shame wash over you, pulling your thumb down to the backspace key and clearing the message. Who cares what your friends think? Even Jake can ride a Viking boat, well so can you! It's not even about him anyway. You like roller coasters, it's just that these particular rides, with their semi-permanent nature, freak you out a little. 

At your place in line, a rush of peach hits you and two long arms wrap themselves around your middle. Minjeong. “My sweet lady,” she mumbles. “I'm sorry for saying that.”

Worse than everyone thinking you follow Jake around like a lovesick puppy, is them feeling bad for you, feeling bad about bringing it up. And here you are, with no Jake to follow, ruining everyone's mood. “It's fine,” you say, picking at the fraying hem of your jean shorts. “It's true anyway, I guess.” That's probably what annoys you about it, that she wasn't wrong.

Minjeong kisses the top of your shoulder, her lip gloss sticky on your skin. “We're all a bit too attached to be fair.”

As if to prove her point, the two of you stay clinging to each other, a sweaty waddling mass as the queue grows shorter and shorter until it's your turn to get on. You press your palm to the side of Nessie's carriage for good luck, safe travels maybe, like boarding an aeroplane, and end up sandwiched between Heeseung and Jay, bare thighs sticking to each other and the hot seat. It's a bit of a tight fit, squeezing all of you into the same row, against some kind of safety regulation surely, but the teenaged ride attendant barely looks up from her phone except to push the bar down over your laps. It's fun though, even you can admit that. Fun to laugh and squeal with your friends while Nessie's hinges do the same, rocking you back and forth and back and forth again. 

Heeseung's hair is dry as straw and the heat does nothing to help, so that when you get off the ride, wobbly-legged, it sticks up at all angles like he's been electrocuted. Yizhuo can't stop laughing, reaching up to ruffle the strands. A few of them break off when he does, flitting towards the ground, dusting his shoulders. 

“Jesus, Heeseung. Do you want a hair mask or something? A buzzcut, maybe?” Minjeong asks, her own bleached hair silky and long, a testament to her twelve step haircare routine. 

He rolls his eyes with a smile on his face. “It's not that bad.”

“It's literally breaking off in her hands,” you remind him, taking a tuft from his shoulder so he can see it.

“Good thing it's my hair then,” he says, yanking the cap from Jimin's head and putting it on his own to hide what's left of his hair. 

Yizhuo wipes her palms together and Aeri scowls. “Sure, buddy—not for much longer though.”

Sunghoon's film camera goes everywhere with him, but he doesn't trust anyone else but Jay to use it—and even that took proof of him studying up on film and passing a twenty-question quiz. With it — now that you've all reconvened after a much needed, well-timed nap — the two of them capture every single moment, a flash going off in some part of the garden no matter what. Jay standing at the grill in his Meat Master apron. Aeri pouring shots at the table. Yizhuo putting a pink tiara on your head at ten minutes to midnight. Heeseung and Jimin making out on the linen couch. Minjeong napping on the unicorn float. He gets a photo of everything and Jay gets a photo of him in the kitchen doorway flexing all of his muscles like a bodybuilder. 

Right when the clock strikes twelve, all of you run and jump into the pool, waking Minjeong who rolls over into the water with a start. A rowdy chorus of Happy Birthday begins before you've even managed to resurface, waterlogged and tipsy in the deep end as your favourite people celebrate you.

“Your shots!” Jimin cries out, pushing her hair out of her face. “You need to start your shots!”

You get out of the pool as fast as you can, running towards the table to get your phone before going into hiding. Jimin doesn't take long to follow, but a text from Jake stops you in your tracks. He'd sent it five minutes ago, right at midnight. 

jaeyunie: Happy birthday, Yongiiieeee!!!!!!! I love u so bad, ur my bffieee, I hope today is really special and I'm sorry I can't be there, but I promise I'll make it up to you, yeah? Can't wait to see youuuuuuu 💘🐉

The smile on your face is immediate, and if you weren't surrounded by all of your friends, you'd squeal. But you are, so you slip through the sliding doors back into the house and lock yourself in the downstairs bathroom to squeal — and hide — there. When you call Jake, he picks up right away, his handsome face filling the screen. 

“Hey, birthday girl,” he says, a breathtaking grin stretching over his lips and showing all of his teeth. “How are you feeling?” 

You're not sure where to start. How to properly express just how much you miss him. Closing the toilet lid, you take a seat and settle on telling him you're mad at him instead. “I'm very, very mad at you.”

“What have I done now?” His eyebrows shoot up and his voice is low, deep, which is very cool and very normal. 

“You ditched me.”

When Jake laughs, it fills the room like he's right here with you. “I'm not the one who drove all the way across the country, Yongie. You ditched me, alright? If anything, I should be very, very mad at you.”

“You can't be mad at me on my birthday. Maybe another day?” Against your arm, the tile is so perfectly cool you have to resist pressing your entire body to the wall. “Do you have one in mind?”

His smile only widens. It's unjust that someone so beautiful would be so far away—that that someone would be Jake. “Whatever you say, Yongie—I won't be mad at you today. Tomorrow though? I'm pissed tomorrow.”

Just the thought of it sends a rush of heat to the base of your stomach. You've sat in the stands at enough of his football games, and various other sporting stints, to know just how pissed he can get. And just how good he looks when he is. His clenched jaw and squinting eyes. The crease of his eyebrows, how his neck goes red. Pissed at you would be new, though. Nice, maybe. 

“I look forward to it,” you admit. “Will you show me Layla now? She's way more exciting to look at.”

The smile falls from his face right away. “Should I die?”

“Not just now. Maybe tomorrow while you're mad at me.”

“Have I ever told you how funny you are?” He squints a little, getting closer to the screen. “Where are you?” 

“I'm hiding in the bathroom. I think Jimin's waiting to force twenty-two shots down my throat.” Just the thought of it makes you shudder. At sixteen, taking a shot for each year of your age was a badge of honour. Now, however, not so much.

“You're in the bathroom? Downstairs, right?”

“Yeah, that's what I just said.”

“Open the door then.”

“Is my signal fucked?” You look at him on your screen, tilting your head. “I just told you Jimin's waiting to give me alcohol poisoning, I can't go out there for at least another twenty-four hours.”

“Wow.” Jake frowns. “I drove all this way and you don't want to see me?”

The words pull you up from your seat so fast you almost smack your head on the wall. “You did what?”

“Open up, Yongie.” This time, when he speaks, you hear him through your phone and through the door.

Hanging up, you adjust the straps of your bikini and straighten your tiara in the mirror, peeling back some of your soaked hair. For how much time you spent in the sun earlier, and in the pool just now, you look quite nice actually. A healthy glow to your slowly tanning skin, a slight dark ring of mascara around your eyes that thankfully looks more fun party girl than tearful party girl. You take a deep breath, it's only Jake after all—a fact that does nothing to ease your racing heart.

“Are you really out there?” you ask through the door, desperate to prolong the time apart that you'd loathed maybe one minute ago.

He lets out a chuckle, knocking gently on the wood. “I promise.”

Like something from your dreams, and just like he said, Jake's standing there with a huge grin on his face. He's the greatest thing you've ever seen. “Surprise!” he says. “Happy birthday.”

“How are you—” You pause, shoving his shoulder just to make sure this isn't a very realistic hallucination. Against your palm, his shoulder is very solid and very real. “How are you here?”

Jake's smile curls into something sheepish, his hands resting heavy on your waist. Burning your wet skin. “If you could take a week off from the beautiful woman factory, I figured I could take some time off too. Turns out having a desk job involves a lot of scrolling through r/niceguys and drinking free Gatorade.”

“You…” There are a million ways to end that sentence, but you settle for hugging him instead. He laughs, soft and happy, taking you into his strong arms. He smells like home, like the sweet citrus and bergamot that crowds all of your memories. It's only been a week since you last saw him, but it feels like a lifetime now that he's here. “I can't believe you're here,” you mumble into his T-shirt.

“You know I'd never miss your birthday, Yongie. Not for anything.” Jake brings his hand to the back of your head, gently stroking your wet hair. “I meant it when I said you could count on me.”

Tipping your head back is a small devastation, you miss his chest as soon as you leave it, but the sight of him is worth it. Of Jake and his sweet round, smiling cheeks, his dark eyes meeting yours right away. “But I thought you—” Realisation sets in belatedly, cutting you off. “So you lie to me now? Great. Your employment has made you ugly, Sim Jaeyun.”

He's the furthest thing from ugly you can think of, especially when he's smiling like this at you. Because of you. “Occupational hazard,” he says. “I'm being really brave showing my face right now, but I was sweating in my ski mask.”

“Good call. And speaking of, I didn't take time off work, I'm working remotely.”

Jake's grin takes up half of his face and sends your heart into a frenzy. “My bad, Yongie. Of course you are,” he says, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “You must be the exception, your employment's only made you prettier.”

“It's hard work being employee of the century,” you admit.

“Yeah, darling. I'm sure it is.” Before you can respond, or fully process the heat coating every inch of your skin, he speaks again. “How does twenty-two feel so far? I only have a few more months left to get ready, so you have to tell me everything.”

“So far?” There's no platonic way to say that twenty-two is perfect because he's here, so you shrug. “Not sure—” At the sound of Jimin's voice over his shoulders you flinch, hiding behind him even though it's too late.

“There you are!” She's wielding the tall bottle of Pineapple AU the boys got for you. Your gift. Yay! “Don't worry, you don't have to take all the shots right now, you can spread them out over the day. Eleven now, eleven later.” She looks a bit like she's had twenty-two shots.

“Jeez,” Jake mutters, getting a good look at her flushed face. 

“I'll come find you, Jimin.”

This seems to be enough to satisfy her, for now at least, and she disappears back down the hall, utterly unsurprised by the sight of Jake.

Alone again, finally, he smiles down at you. “I'll help with your shots, alright? Looks like I've got some catching up to do anyway.”

“Me too.”

While Jake gets changed, you head back outside and jump straight into the pool to shock the heat from your skin. It works. Until he walks through the sliding doors and into the garden. His black swimming trunks sit low on his hips. Arms bigger than usual when he crosses them over his chest, eyes flitting around the space until he finds you and smiles. Your heart beats in your throat as the rest of your friends spot him and rush over, enveloping him in happy hugs and excited chatter. They ask him about the drive and work and catch up like it's been months. Nobody mentions his huge arms or his toned stomach that seems more and more defined every time you see it. Jay hands him a beer and he pulls the tab while watching you, laughing at something, he waves at you, all alone in the pool now that everyone's bagged their spot in line at the Jake meet-and-greet.

Good for them.

You swim lazy laps to give your heart something normal to race over and he finishes his entire can before breaking away from the group and backflipping into the pool. You hate yourself for being impressed, feeling a bit like a ten-year-old girl fancying the fastest boy in class. This feeling, you know it well, because you were that girl. Jake was the boy. And now, when he resurfaces right in front of you, his hair sticks to the edges of his face. He doesn't push it back.

“Good evening,” he says, voice already taking on its soft drunken state.

“You're stealing my thunder, Jakey. At this rate, I'm sure you'll wear red to my funeral, or do the splits during the eulogy, or something else attention-seeking,” you huff, splashing him. “It's my birthday, you know.”

“Trust me, Yongie. No one could ever steal your thunder.” He grins, taking the pink tiara from your head and putting it on his own. It suits him. “And we're dying on the same day, remember? Joint casket.”

“I'm starting to regret our blood pact.”

“Our blood pact?” he repeats, incredulous. “How many times do I need to remind you that someone waited until my middle finger was gushing blood before she backed out?” 

“I was fourteen!” 

“I was thirteen!”

“And you were so, so brave.”

A moment passes while Jake seems to think about that. The pool lights him up brilliant and blue, water slipping in fast rivulets down his skin. Though not a new feeling, it's definitely an irritating one, an embarrassing one, to be jealous of the water. Jealous of how close it gets to be, tracing his cheekbones and acne scars, his stubble. And all with no consequence, no teasing or accusations of feelings. Feelings of any kind. Your hands twitch at your sides, pruned and desperate. Splashes sound from the middle of the pool, though neither of you look to see who it is. There's no need. You could recognise Jay's squeals and Aeri's laugh with your eyes closed. The price of summers and all the seasons in between spent together, you suppose. You'd pay it over and over happily if you could. If it meant you could always have this. It'll be difficult on Wednesday, when you all go back home and get ready to split off into your corners of actual adulthood. 

“I'm a coward now, is that what you're saying?” 

“I wouldn't have used those words, but I'm glad you did.”

Jake rolls his eyes and says, “Most people are actually nicer in the summer, you know.”

“Yeah, to you maybe. Because you look like that with your shirt off,” you say, surprising yourself and him.

He tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. “What does that mean?” 

You've already swum into the deep end of this conversation, so it's not hard to say, “I think you underestimate how much justice your body does you, Jaeyun.”

“That means a lot coming from you.” With a smile on his lips, he reaches out, toying with the string on your bikini. Cool water slips from his skin onto yours, painting a trail down your body and back into the pool. His dark eyes follow it the whole way, neck, collarbones, chest, until his gaze hits the surface, lingering on the flimsy blue cups holding up your breasts. It all happens so quickly, his staring and the pounding of your heart. The hitching of your breath. Of his. How he swallows, gulps, like maybe this is affecting him as much as it is you until he says, “You're a dream, YN.”

The word strikes you anew, your name from his sweet mouth. He so rarely calls you by your name that it's always thrilling whenever he does. Only ever beautiful, special, when he's the one saying it. And at the end of a sentence like that no less. A dream. Said so simply and just for you. You should be over this by now, over him, but still — again — your breath hitches and a flare of warmth sets your skin ablaze. 

“You know that though, don't you?” Jake's voice is quiet against the sounds of everyone else — cans and cups clinking, lyrics screeched off-key — yet it's the only thing you hear clearly. “I've always known it.”

On his head, your pink tiara sits crooked. He almost looks silly. He does look silly, and maybe, if he'd said literally anything else, this fact, this sight, would make you laugh. But no, he didn't say anything else.

Attraction and romance are not the same. You know that well enough. It's taken a lot of kissing frogs to drill it into your head, but you've done it, and you know. Regardless, hearing those words from your Prince Jake is doing a very good job at shaking that knowledge loose. It's only when your back hits the tile that you realise you've drifted into the corner of the pool. He lets go of your bikini, palm resting by your arm on the pool's edge, boxing you in.

To your silence, he says, “I guess I gotta say it more.”

“Is that right?” you whisper.

When he nods, the tiara falls with a measly splash, bobbing along the surface between you. Neither of you lifts it.

“You've got a lot of catching up to do then. Like, ten years worth.”

“Thirteen,” Jake corrects. “Thirteen years worth.”

“I look forward to it.”

A smile breaks out over his face as he picks up the tiara. All the chlorine has spoiled the rhinestones, turning them matte. Gently, he pushes your hair away from your face and sets it on your head again, fixing the little combs so it stays in place. “You're beautiful, Yongie. You're very, very beautiful,” he says. Admits, maybe.

You let out a breath, hoping it can pass for a laugh. Hoping Jake doesn't notice how all of your breaths have been coming out in a bit of a hurry. “Well, I don't work at the beautiful woman factory for nothing.” 

It's Sunghoon's announcement of a very friendly game of chicken fight that breaks up your… moment. You're thankful, actually, it gives you some room to breathe, to smile like a maniac while Jake looks over his shoulder at the group. Nobody has to tell you to get out of the pool, you don't waste a second hoisting yourself over the edge. Jake does the same, trailing water all the way over to the electric grill where he dries his hands and ties Jay's apron around his waist. 

“You hungry?” he asks. “The real Meat Master's back in town, baby.”

“Not really.” You scowl, taking a step away from him. “And don't let anyone else hear you say that, okay? They won't be as kind as me.”

Red covers his cheeks and his ears and his neck as he heads for the kitchen. “Yeah,” he says. “You're probably right.” 

Despite this, his blunder, you can hardly tear your lusting eyes from his body, the flex of his muscles as he walks, the cinch of his little waist, swimming trunks sitting low enough to show the dimples in his lower back. How the water trickles slowly from his shoulders down, the warm kitchen lights making him glow. 

A pair of dripping arms wrap themselves around your waist from behind, making you flinch as Minjeong's chin rests on your shoulder, easy to identify by her touchiness alone, but her shimmery peach tanning oil gives her away. Her damp skin sticks to yours. A kiss pressed to your cheek. “I take it you like your present?” she coos, rocking your bodies back and forth. “It was my idea by the way, to surprise you, if you were looking for someone to thank.”

How touching, that your friends care enough to deeply upset you with your biggest fear and then quickly resolve it like nothing happened. Maybe change, as Jake had said last night, isn't as bad as you think. More than anything, you're alarmed by the fact that the best gift you think you could possibly receive is his presence. How disturbing, that you love him this much. 

“Thank you, Jeongie,” you say, dragging the E for as long as you can. 

Again, she kisses your cheek, mumbling, of course, against your skin. “What was that in the pool? You two all pressed up in the corner…“ Her voice trails off into a whisper as Jake comes back outside with a plate of samgyeopsal and chicken sausages and mushrooms in his veiny hand. Maybe you are hungry after all. “It was extremely hot to watch, I think he was genuinely a second away from tearing your bikini off.”

The thought of it makes you shudder, what might have been were you two alone out here, if Jake wanted what you did. Wanted you. If he'd tugged on the string of your bikini top and taken what you want him to have. You're a dream, YN. You can't help the heat in your cheeks and between your thighs, can't help but watch as his thick fingers turn the knob that starts the grill. As they skewer sausages and slabs of halloumi before carefully placing them on the rack.

Minjeong uses her clammy hand to close your mouth. “Fuck,” she mutters. “I think I get it now.”

Before you can tell her to back off, she's running over to the pool, waiting to sub in for someone. It'll be Yizhuo most likely, who keeps throwing herself from Sunghoon's broad shoulders, for no reason other than liking the feeling of falling into the water. He's too polite to express his frustration, but you can tell from the way he rolls his eyes every time she does it.

“They're pants,” Jake says, nodding over at them as he flips the skewers. “Utter pants.”

You wrap yourself up in a Spider-Man beach towel and sink into the chair closest to the grill, to him, sitting with your legs crossed. “It'd be unethical to play against them, seeing as we're professionals and they're… well, they're pants, like you said.” 

Last spring, Sunghoon announced in the chat that you'd be playing chicken fight for money, and it was all you could to do to take up Pilates in preparation—you had probably the strongest core out of everyone here, and together, you and Jake robbed your friends blind, then blew your winnings on a weekend trip to Naples to celebrate. This year however, you and Jake are barred, and your core strength has gone to shit without something to motivate you in the gym. 

It's for the best probably, your practice rounds were always garbage because you couldn't focus with Jake's head between your thighs or his huge hands gripping your soft flesh. The way his breath would hitch if you tugged on the right strands of hair by the nape of his neck.

Fuck. 

Pushing some of your wet hair back from your neck, he smiles down at you. “I took three of your shots, by the way.” 

“My knight in sweaty, muscular armour, wow, Jake.” Looking at him now, with the overhead lights making him glow around the edges, the sweet curve of his pink lips, it's like looking at an angel. He is an angel, you are absolutely certain. Your lovely, beautiful, soft-lipped angel. “I could kiss you,” you blurt out, covering your mouth with your hand to keep in the rest of your thoughts.

He laughs at that, a rushed exhale that he doesn't address before blowing on a skewer of halloumi. It's hot, clearly, because he huffs around the little chunk he bit off. Again, he blows on it then holds it out for you. “Here, Yongie,” he says softly. “Careful though, yeah?”

For a short while, you eat like this, sharing a Heineken with Jake until, naturally, at the sweet sizzle and smell of pork belly coming off the barbecue, everyone comes rushing out of the pool and over to the table, filling all the seats around you. Jay helps plate the food as Jake shuts off the grill, taking off the apron and mumbling at you to sit properly. It's hardly a second after your feet hit the warm tile that he sits in your lap, settling with his back pressed against you and his plate in his lap. To calm your pounding heart, you have to breathe manually, in for three and out for three, but it's to no avail as Jake plays with your fingers and passes food from his plate straight into your mouth. Trying to follow the conversation is impossible in these conditions, so you strain to listen to Tiffany Day's album whispering out of the speaker and chew on yummy samgyeopsal, ignoring the feel of his fingers on your lips every time he feeds you, ignoring how he makes a point to look straight at you, into your eyes whenever he does. 

At Jimin's request you take a shot and then another, both poured carefully into your mouth by Jake who can't stop laughing. 

“My good girl!” she cheers, a proud smile on her face as she points at you with her chopsticks. “Two down, twenty to go!”

You take another two, then down a full glass of water.

As the guest of honour, you're relinquished of clean-up duty, and your friends diligently snatch anything you dare to lift or stack to help. Your adamance gets Jake kicked out too, the two of you relegated to the linen couch. As soon as you sit down, he pulls your legs over his. His hand covers your knee, tracing shapes into your skin with his thumb. Sometimes it feels like he has to touch you at all times, like his life depends on his proximity to you—sometimes it feels like yours does too, to him. Given the years you've known each other, the years you've gone on like this, you should be used to it. You're not. When he touches your necklace, the star pendant resting on your chest, you have to put in effort not to shiver. 

“I can't believe you still wear this,” he says, the words garbled by a yawn. 

“I haven't found one I like better. What's your excuse?” you ask, nodding towards the identical star sitting beneath his collarbones. 

“Feels weird when I take it off. It's like a little piece of you or something.”

“Or something,” you repeat, understanding. 

It was a Christmas gift, years ago now. They both were. Something you saw that simply screamed Jake. Apparently, he thought the same, seeing the exact same necklace and hearing your name instead. It felt like fate when you exchanged presents that Christmas Eve, and even now, though most days you forget you have it on, you're not convinced it wasn't. 

With his rosy knuckles heavy on your skin, the necklace feels brand new. Jake has a funny way of making things feel new, making the simplest of moments exciting just because he's there. Swimming. Eating pork belly. Sitting on the couch. He lets go of the star, tucking your wet hair behind your ear before squeezing your knee.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“I'm just happy, Jake. I'm very, very happy right now.”

“Good, Yongie. I'm very, very happy too.” He yawns again. 

You roll your eyes, but you can't stop smiling. Can't stop the flutter in your stomach. “My thunder, Jaeyun. Leave it alone.”

When Jake yawns for the third time, you decide to retire, ignoring the chorus of boos that follow you back inside until he slides the back door shut. “Should I lock it?” he asks.

You actually have to think about it before you shake your head, leading the way up to your room.

In bed, showered and sleepy, the two of you lie very still, staring up at the ceiling. It's far too hot for a duvet, but you can't sleep without being covered, so a thin white sheet sticks to your skin. Each time the lighthouse beams into the room, the two of you laugh into the quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” A giggle breaks through your question, bright white shining through the window.

“Anything, Yongie.” He's more tired, and tipsy, than he let on downstairs. You can hear it in his voice, how slow and whiny he's being. “You know that.”

“Does you being here mean you didn't get me a present?”

Turning to look at you, Jake scoffs. You don't dare to look at him. You can't. Still, he asks, “Am I not enough of a gift?”

For the better you think, he has no idea how much his being here means to you. “I mean… maybe if we were watching Bee Movie or you'd brought Layla with you.”

“Okay, Yongie. Fine. I see how it is.”

Right when you look at him, the lighthouse sends another beam, carving his face out of the shadow. This time, you can't laugh. Can't do much more than stare at him. The curve of his pretty lips, his sleepy eyes on you. Pink on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose. You feel very lucky getting to see him like this, and your birthday of all days. 

“I'm kidding,” you whisper, afraid of what your voice might sound like if you speak properly. “Kind of.”

Mercifully, the beam slips out of view, leaving him in the dark. No matter though, because you can make out his silhouette as he sits up and leans over the end of the bed. He opens the drawer of the nightstand and puts a small velvet box into your hands. “It's not Layla, obviously, but I hope you like it anyway.”

“We'll see.” 

Sitting up too, you lean on the headboard and open it. A thick heart-shaped pendant greets you, a locket, you realise when you take it out. The metal is cool in your palm and the light shines through the window, showing you what's carved on the front of it. Your stomach drops at the sight.

“Happy birthday, YN.” Jake clears his throat. “It's a dragon.”

When you first met, the first thing he ever told you was that his zodiac sign was a horse. You were nine years old back then, a Leo, and the first thing you did when you got home was look up animal zodiac signs on the family computer. The next day, you got to class and proudly told him that you were a dragon—your favourite of the twelve animals available. Yong, he said. That's dragon in Korean. Unfortunately though, like every other 2002 baby, you were a simple horse, but the nickname stuck.

“Yongie,” you say, heart beating in your throat as you run your finger over the tiny dragon. 

He's smiling when you look at him, clearly pleased with himself. “Yeah, Yongie.”

Every last detail of this moment latches onto you with unbearable strength. Small wings against your thumb. Laughter ringing out from the next room. Jake. His eyes on you. His gorgeous smiling face and the tumble of butterflies in your stomach at the sight of that smiling face. Summer's hot claws sink into you, leaving their mark on your sweaty flesh. If he asks again, how twenty-two feels, you hope you can relay this to him. And you hope you can sound very platonic and normal when you do.

“Can you… would you help me put it on?”

“Of course.”

You face the windows and unstick your hair from your back. Jake's hands are warm, burning your skin as he loops the necklace around your neck and fiddles with the clasp. Time seems to slow, his breath fanning the nape of your neck. Against your ribs, your heart races. It doesn't settle even when he's done and his touch is a memory.

“There,” he whispers, the sheets rustling as he moves away.

“I love it, Jaeyun. Thank you.” You can't look at him. Not now. Not with tears stinging your eyes. Instead, you wrap your hand around the locket, warming it in your palm. The word feels small, not enough for the swell of your heart in your chest. Not enough for the tumbling in your stomach.

“Good, Yongie. I'm glad, that makes me really happy.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I didn't put a picture in it, but if you have one in mind, I can take you to the printer and get it sorted out.”

“That would be really nice.”

For a while he says nothing. And you don't move. You don't even squint when the light shines through the glass, frying your retinas. Before you see Jake, you feel him. Feel the solid heat of his chest pressed to your back, feel his hair tickling your thigh when he cranes his neck to look up at you. In the dark, concern scrunches his eyebrows. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, Jake. I just—” Saying the words always feels like torture, like you're being punished for your feelings. As if unrequited love isn't punishment enough. You have to swallow around the lump in your throat before you continue. “I really, really love it. I love you.”

His smile crinkles his eyes. “And I love you,” he says. Easy as ever. Because when he says it, he doesn't mean anything more than those words. Anything more than a friend loving a friend in the way they should. “More.”

You don't, you think. You couldn't. “I know,” you say instead.

When Jake rolls over, lying on his back again, you curl into his side. If you can't have him the way you want to, at least you can have him like this. Cuddling in bed despite the sticky heat, his arm around your waist, your head on his chest. Falling asleep together. As friends.

You wake up to your phone ringing on the nightstand, alone in the bed. Jake's side of the bed is still warm when you touch it, his scent tickling your nose. It's ten a.m. and your mum yells into the phone, “Happy birthday, sweet pea!”

Her voice is loud and lovely as always as you pull the phone from your ear. “Thanks, Mum,” you mumble, still adjusting your eyes to the broad daylight and bright sun beaming into the room. “Really.”

“You sound tired, are you still in bed?”

“It's ten in the morning.”

“That's practically five p.m. to you,” she points out. “Hangover?”

“Not really,” you say. “Not yet.” This morning has been gentle to your body, because you were gentle-ish last night. Tomorrow morning, however, you're not sure will be the same. Admittedly, with Jake at your side and your necklace burning hot against your skin, sleep was hard to come by.

“Where's Jake? Can you put him on the phone?”

“I don't know, I just woke up.”

Without another word, your mother hands the phone to your father who says, “Hey, love. Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, Dad.”

“Is Jake around?” 

“No,” you say, and the conversation doesn’t last much longer.

Birthdays are very strange, only made stranger with each year that passes. People from all dark corners of your life creep out to greet you. Failed situationships — your fault — worming their way back into your life with an HBD! Since starting university, your messages have been relatively quiet, since you've been spending your birthdays here with everyone who you actually want to hear from.

You're on your tenth variation of, thank you, angel, when Jake opens the door. “Ugh,” he groans, looking over his bare shoulders at you. “I really hoped you'd still be asleep, I haven't even lit the candle yet.”

“Candle singular? Wow, Jaeyun. You really didn't have to. I'm honoured,” you say, though no amount of sarcasm could calm the fluttering in your stomach or cool the heat on your cheeks.

Jake's grinning when he turns around, clearly proud of himself and the stack of pancakes he's holding. Stuck into their syrupy centre is a glittery candle in the shape of a two. “Happy second birthday, Yongie!” he says, kneeling by the side of the bed.

You can't help but grin. “I'm two!”

“This was funny in my head,” he mumbles, scrunching his nose. “If you can believe it.”

“It's funny in mine too.” 

He lights the candle and tells you to make a wish. Screwing your eyes, you do just that, blowing out the flame in a hurry so you can look at him again. At the lopsided curve of his pretty lips. Jake climbs back into bed beside you, making sleepy conversation while you eat your birthday pancakes—until he falls asleep anyway, keen to complete his eight hours. 

Fed and watered, you wash your dishes in the sink, liking the rush of the warm water on your fingers. The repeated motion of dragging the sponge over your plate. It’s actually fun to do it, to see your progress with each swipe, to have complete control over an outcome. Now that you’re here, enjoying yourself, you tackle the surfaces too, cleaning the stove and the countertops until they sparkle, and Aeri gasps at the sight of you, running into the kitchen. She clambers over the countertop to reach you quicker, handprints left on the dark wood, but you can wipe those up later. 

“No way, no way, no way!” she squeals, taking the locket in her hands to get a good look. “I hate to give credit to a man, but this is perfect, YN. I'm so happy for you.” She wraps her arms around you in a tight squeeze, unconcerned by the dripping sponge in your hand. “How did he tell you? Am I the first to find out?” 

You don't even have time to process or share in her excitement before Yizhuo comes in from the garden, wet hair pulled into a knot at the top of her head. “Find out what?” she asks, pulling her blue towel tighter around her body. 

“I was just about to ask.”

“He gave her the necklace,” she explains, gesturing with both arms to emphasise the the. 

Pushing her sunglasses up, a flicker of recognition dances across Yizhuo's face, widening her eyes at your chest when she crosses the room. “Great news, obviously, but I'm not sure how this changes anything.” She hugs you too, kissing the side of your head. “Seeing as you were fucking in the pool last night anyway.”

“Who was fucking in the pool?” Sunghoon asks from the doorway, wet hair clinging to the harsh lines of his face. At the sight of the necklace, he smiles, jogging over to join you all, hugging you just like the girls did. “Took him long enough! Good birthday so far then?”

You pry his ginormous arms off of you, squirming to freedom and stepping away. All of them watch you with huge grins, some of the happiest faces you've ever seen, but before anyone else can come in and continue this ridiculous game of broken telephone, you set the record as straight as possible. “No one was fucking in the pool, no one told anyone anything. What the fuck are we talking about right now?” 

Aeri's smile drops. “Wait, so how did you get that?”

“Jake gave it to me, which you seem to know.”

“And he didn't say… anything?” Yizhuo's eyebrows furrow. 

“Not much more than, happy birthday, and, it's a dragon.” 

“Oh, okay. Ignore us then.” Sunghoon clears his throat. “Pool?” 

And so begins a birthday like any other, at least since you started university anyway.

You laze around the garden, day drinking lightly and snacking heavily. Taking bikini pictures for Instagram and slipping in and out of heat-induced naps until it’s time to get dressed and head out to dinner. 

At the same long table in Seaside Gusto, you sit between Jake and Jay like always. You and Heeseung switch cocktails because you like each others’ better, and at Minjeong’s request, everyone goes around the table and shares something they love about you. 

Tears sting your eyes, beyond touched by all the nice things they say, no matter how silly some of them are about it. Yizhuo loves your boobs and butt; Sunghoon loves your summer birthday, because there’s always something to look forward to after exams; and Jimin loves your commitment to overthinking, crediting it with solving all of her problems with no stress on her end. For Minjeong, it’s your loyalty, and Aeri says you paint her nails the best. Heeseung loves your pretty face, and Jay loves your honesty. Last to go is Jake who only stares down at his plate, his silence making your leg shake under the table—now the only quiet one in the restaurant. 

Nobody says anything or makes a sound at all, save for your fork scraping parmesan around your plate. “Wow, Jaeyun, am I that bad?” you ask, and it’s supposed to be a joke but you just sound upset, pathetic. 

So much so that his face softens and he shakes his head, hand resting on your bouncing knee. “Are you kidding?” His voice is soft, laced with a concern he usually reserves for when the two of you are alone. 

When you don’t respond, Jake clears his throat to get everyone’s attention, taking a sip of water before speaking. “I was thinking about the right way to say this, but I guess it’ll be easier to just start talking and see where I end up, you know? Like Jay kinda.” There’s a smile on his face, handsome as ever, but he’s fidgeting with his trouser leg, scratching the side of his chair, tense even though he’s made you all laugh.

It’s been an age since you last saw him this nervous, this uncertain, so long that you’re just pleased you remember how to calm him down. You take his hand in yours, playing with his fingers the way he liked when you were younger. It takes a beat, but, sure enough, his shoulders fall and his shallow breaths level out. 

“I was really shy as a kid, sensitive, so I had no friends until I met YN. She was the first person to make an effort with me, or to make me feel like I was worth the effort, I guess,” Jake says, giving your hand a squeeze. 

Some twisted combination of his admission and the pressure is all it takes for your tears to spill, running hot and fast down your cheeks. That anyone could have looked at sweet little Sim Jaeyun with his missing incisors and been anything other than adoring hurts your stomach, that anyone could have made him feel less than, and for all your closeness you had no idea. Your vision blurs, the lump in your throat heavy when Jay hands you his napkin. It’s for the best that Jake doesn’t look up from your locked hands in his lap. 

“Everything I know about friendship I learned from her. So what I love about you, Yongie, is that you care a lot about others, and you cared a lot about me, you know?” 

Around the table, all of your friends coo and fuss over Jake until his face goes bright red. The heat in your cheeks burns with the same frenzy, spreading to coat your neck and chest. It’s only now that he looks at you, wet-eyed and smiling. Beautiful—always beautiful. 

“That was perfect, Jake. You said it perfectly.” 

With a brilliant smile on his face, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and leans towards you. “I really think you saved me, YN,” he says. 

For dessert, the butterflies in your stomach have a giant wedge of tiramisu with a candle in it, and because your heels ache your feet, Minjeong gives you a piggy back all the way home. Curled around Aeri, you take a nap on the couch in the den and right when you blink your sleepy eyes open, everyone else is setting up the house. 

Together in the en-suite, you and Jake get ready for the party you can already hear starting downstairs. Music rumbles in from all angles while he gargles mouthwash and you take your makeup off with a cotton pad. It's always fun getting ready with him, even if you take significantly longer, because he doesn't rush you. He's like Minjeong in that way, or any of the other girls, there's just something nice about doing it with someone. Sharing gossip and mascara, spitballing graft techniques and peeing in the same stall. 

It’s only your life-threatening crush that makes him different.

Swiping the cotton pad over your eyes, it’s hard not to think about what he said at dinner. You’d been such similar children, bonding quickly over LEGOs and wrestling and painting your nails. It was you who showed him Rayman Origins and he who showed you Hannah Montana. It didn't matter very much that he was a boy, didn't matter at all, he was just Jake. Your friend. Your person. And how much easier it was then, to be around him. To be hugged by him, to have your hand held, without reading into it. Without wondering how long you'll be able to have him in this way before he inevitably meets someone who doesn't like how close you are. How he tucks your hair behind your ear or calls you darling.  

He blocks your view of the mirror with his face, leaning in. At the sight, at his closeness, your stomach does a twirl. Splotchy red around the perimeter, a handful of freckles dotting the bridge of his nose. “What's the matter?” Jake asks. 

“Nothing.” Your voice comes out softer than you'd like, hardly a mumble over the music.

His gaze flicks around your face, catching every feature before catching yours again. “Your eyes are all watery,” he says, but doesn't move out of the way so you can see in the mirror or have a try at breathing normally.

It's only when you blink that tears fall. Not a lot, but enough for him to frown. You can't even begin to explain what you're crying about, at least without giving yourself away. He cups your cheeks with his hands, thumbs wiping your tears away, and making your breath hitch. 

“Hello,” you mumble, sniffling.

A smile plays at the corners of Jake's lips, giving way to a tiny curve. “Hey, YN.”

“Hi.”

“Do you wanna skip this thing? Sneak out and see the lighthouse instead?”

As tempting as his offer sounds, sitting out on the edge of the dock and eating salty fish & chips while the sun goes down, you're a little too excited for tonight to pass it up. This could be the last birthday you celebrate with all of your friends under one roof for a while now that everyone's employed. You shake your head, leaning into his touch. “I'm good, Jakey. Just really happy.”

“Good, Yongie,” he says, a bright smile covering his face. “I'm glad.”

You're not crying anymore, you weren't ever really crying — not properly anyway — but Jake doesn't let go and you don't move away. The moment stretches for longer than you're sure is fully friendly, long enough that your eyes catch his lips, long enough that you notice when his eyes catch yours. His furrowed eyebrows smooth out before raising for a split second. He's everything, the entire world and more standing right in front of you, with your face in his hands. 

It occurs to you now, like this, the fundamental difference between a need and a want. You need to have these summers here with him and everyone else, to fall asleep in his arms and wake up sweat drenched on opposite ends of the bed. Need to have him by your side no matter what, in your corner. Jake. Your Jake, as he's always been and always will be. What you want though, is to lean in, to kiss him. To feel his thick bottom lip pulled between yours, to feel the soft flesh between your teeth, his tongue in your mouth and yours in his. 

And as if he's read your thoughts, heard them, something changes in his face, hardens for a beat as he clears his throat and lets go of you, backs away until he hits the counter. “Fuck,” he mutters, rubbing at his hip and looking everywhere but at you. “Did you—uh, you wanna finish up by yourself?”

A salt-coated thorn pokes its way into your chest, jabbing the him-shaped wound in your heart. This chronic ache, your chronic affection, souring before your very eyes and making it easy to foster irritation towards Jake. Genuine irritation for the accent he won't let go of, and the stupid phase he had where he only let you feed him if you moved the utensil like an aeroplane. For his stupid brown hair that always dries perfectly even though he doesn't do anything with it. His eyes, his big, round eyes, and the way they get all sparkly when he's talking about something he cares about or to someone he loves. When he's talking to you.

“Not really,” you admit, though he is clearly desperate to be away from you and you from him. 

A new desire for both of you. Surely. If it weren't for the knots in your stomach, you might be fascinated by it. That you've known Jake this long and are still discovering new sides to him. Prickly ones. You'd been so sure you knew him, all of him, so sure that you liked all of him. Loved.

This though — the crease of his brows, the set of his jaw, the distance — whatever it means, is quite bad. Feels quite bad. Yet, when you open your mouth to continue, it's to say, “I don't want to go downstairs on my own.”

As if nothing happened, as if he hadn't been repulsed by your closeness, he nods and sits up on the countertop with a smile. The pointy corners of his curved lips, and the crinkle of his nose and eyes, are enough to quell your irritation. More than. It's like seeing daylight, like the sun coming up on a winter morning to melt the snow. That's just how friendships are though, isn't it? How it is to have friends and to be a friend. Minor offences resolved instantly, forgiven, over nothing more than a look or a smile. Friendships are neat in that way—friendships like yours, bloated by the stench of your unrequited feelings, however? Not quite so neat. Too much has changed here already, more than what you can afford, and it's all you can do to keep things exactly as they are. 

While you continue getting ready — washing your face, moisturising your legs — the two of you jump from one topic to the next and he is gracious enough not to mention your tears, or how he leapt away from you. “Has this been your best birthday yet?” Jake asks, leaning back on his palms. 

“You know what, I actually think, yeah. One regret though…“ You trail off, turning your head to spray deodorant. 

“Is it that we didn't order more toasted ravioli to bring home and eat later?”

“How'd you know?” 

Jake is smiling when you look over at him, patting his toned stomach and sighing. “Because I'm lowkey hungry again.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, predicting that your own hunger won't take long to follow.

“Fuck is right,” he agrees solemnly, pressing his lips into a flat line. 

Now that your armpits are sufficiently deodorised, you only have to get dressed and put on lip gloss. The lip gloss part is easy, of course, but you've been warring over two coverups in your head since you started packing, so you need a second opinion. Bringing your options from your suitcase, you hold them up side by side for Jake to see. “Which one's cuter?” 

He purses his lips, eyes flicking from left to right. “Both of them are cute.”

“Can you not annoy me right now, please?” You sigh, resting your hands on your hips while he watches, an amused slant to his lips. “Don't be such a boy about it, Jake, pick one.”

“Try them on and let me see, darling.”

Leaving him in the bathroom to get changed by yourself, you take off your T-shirt behind the closed door and ignore how much you liked the sound of his voice when he said that. Liked the way it felt to be told what to do. You tie up your pink bikini, pull a black crochet minidress over the top of it and adjust the low-cut back in the mirror before showing him. Instead of saying anything, reacting at all really, he just sits there, his wide eyes trailing over your body. 

Still, though, in the face of Jake's silence, there's no stopping the burn in your cheeks or the flutter in your stomach. “This is—uhm… you're supposed to tell me how I look.”

“Yeah, no, for sure, yeah,” he says, snapping into motion and clearing his throat. “Will you twirl for me?”

Again, you do as Jake requests, twirling as slow as possible while willing the twitching corners of your lips to stay put. Neutral. Relaxed. You know you look good, of course you do, you wouldn't have brought this dress if it didn't look good on you, if the low back didn't make your waist look smaller and your butt look bigger. Something about him though, about how he looked at you, like he thinks it too, thinks you look good is more than enough to take your breath away, so that you have to focus on breathing to do it effectively. 

He's leaning forward with his arms crossed over his lap, chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes flick upward to meet yours, but he can't hold your gaze, looking up at the ceiling instead. “You look… Yeah, Yongie, nice.”

“Thank you for the glowing review,” you mutter, turning to leave, as if your heart isn't racing.

The next time you join him in the bathroom, you're wearing the white dress, and before he asks you to, you twirl for him, as slowly as you did earlier. This dress is just as short as the first, more sheer though, and the low cut is in the front instead, showing off the centre of your bikini top, your cleavage mainly. Now that you're wearing it, you might like it a bit better, preferring how your necklaces sit against your skin. 

Jake's face and ears are beet red, his mouth ajar but nothing comes out. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, suddenly unsure about the pink bikini you'd bought specifically to wear tonight, and fidget with the neckline, covering your chest as much as you can. “I'd change though, if I wore this,” you say, smoothing it over your hips. “Like white bikini instead, I think it'd look better at the front.”

His eyes fall to your chest, to the locket, and then lower, stuck on the pink fabric, on your boobs. He gulps but he can't look away, doesn't even try. “I think you should wear that one, wear it exactly like that, with the pink.”

“Yeah?”

Jake nods, clears his throat. “You really are a dream, YN. I meant it when I said it.”

Neither of you says anything about that, or the way his hands shake while he takes pictures of you and adjusts your poses. It's basically forgotten about by the time he leads the way to the party, humming along to Minjeong's playlist and holding onto your hand. Despite this, your coming downstairs together, you lose him to the crowd quite quickly. The first hour of your night is mostly just hugging people and accepting snacks from paper plates while having the same conversation five hundred times—how have you been? Great! What are you up to these days? Not much. Having a good birthday? The best! Your necklace is so pretty! Thank you, it's from Jake. Aw, you two are so cute! Haha… yeah. 

You pose for pictures and receive tall, sparkly gift bags of wine or vodka that you leave on the kitchen counter and garden table so everyone can help themselves. With Nishimura Riki, you have two Jimin-issued shots, bringing your total up to eight out of twenty-two. To Huh Yunjin, you put in a good word for Jay, talking him up like he's the second coming of Christ or the best thing since Compeed blister patches—like he's Jake, basically. And it's over Yang Jungwon's broad shoulder that you finally reenter the garden for good, while you kick and scream, begging not to be flung into the pool while he laughs maniacally. 

“I thought you liked swimming!” he calls out, as if you are ten metres away, while approaching the water. 

Trying to reason with Jungwon is like trying to reason with a crazy person—you are mostly certain Jungwon is a crazy person. It's for that reason that you screw your eyes shut and brace yourself, though the touch of the water never comes. Instead, it's warm linen on your skin when he drops you. It's Jake at your side on the garden couch when you open your eyes. 

He's laughing and it's the best thing you've ever heard. “You should've seen your face,” he says through his cackles. “Fuck, Yongie. That was great.”

All you can do is close your eyes and enjoy the sun, enjoy the sounds of your friends enjoying themselves and the music and the chatter, the splashing in the water. The heat of his skin through your dress, the weight of his arm around your shoulders. Literally anything other than Jake's annoying laugh. It's only when he stops that you open your eyes again and he's staring with his lips parted, his eyebrows pulled together just a little. Your smile is involuntary, immediate, and he looks away as fast as he can, ears burning red. 

Jake doesn't look at you until he's cleared his throat. “Food time,” he says, and lifts the most brilliant plate you've ever seen from the other side of him. It's heaped like a buffet plate with all your favourites. Gimbap, pizza, fried chicken, and chips with cheese on top. 

You lick your lips despite yourself. “That looks so good,” you groan, far too lazy to get up for your own. 

“It's yours.” 

“Really?” 

Smiling Jake nods his head and you kiss him on the cheek, mumbling, thank you, into his skin before turning your attention to the plate. You take a bite of everything before starting on the chips. Melted cheddar nearly burns the roof of your mouth, but still, undeterred, you chew on, having worked up quite the appetite with all of your socialising. At your side, Jake twirls the end of your ponytail around his finger and explains the inner workings of the Doki Doki Literature Club roleplay Discord server that Jaehyun and Yunjin crossed paths on. 

“It was also like seven years ago,” he points out. “I can't even tell you what I was doing online at age fourteen.”

“Oh, you were looking up how to kiss on my laptop and actually fainting when my mum brought it up at dinner,” you supply since he asked, laughing despite yourself because even after all these years, the image of him crying at the table then passing out still cracks you up. 

Jake, however, not so much. You're the only one who finds it funny, this secret you've decided to die with, this secret he continues to deny. A disbelieving scoff comes from him, eyebrows touching his hairline. “I'm telling you, YN, that was not me.”

“Yeah and it wasn't me either, so who does that leave?”

“I don't know, Yongie, it must've been a ghost or something.” Jake shrugs, affronted, like always, by your longstanding, well-founded accusation. He was the only other person who knew that your password was JaeyunFan1511, because he was the one who set it to that. “Do you believe in those?” 

“Sure.” 

“Anyway…“ And he continues, ignoring your laughter. As the story goes, Jaehyun and Yunjin had been in a locked roleplay channel with a couple of others before exchanging social media and learning they lived relatively close to each other. Their friendship fizzled out after a few months, but when they bumped into each other at a uni party last summer, they hit it off and got together. “But he was still in the server, and he had an RP girlfriend! He had two! And neither of them were Yunjin.”

Setting your slice of pizza down, you look over at him, parsing his face for any indication that he's taking the piss. “Are you, like, trying to be funny?” 

“I wish, Yongie.” Jake shakes his head. “That's everything I know, I haven't talked to him since he told me.”

You sigh, leaning further into him. “Onto better things at least, for her, now that the coast is clear for Jay.”

“Mm, I'll have to wingman that tonight.”

“I already started.” 

Jake's lips curl upwards. “Are you having fun though, darling? I'd say I'm doing a pretty good job of letting you keep all your thunder, right?” 

With a mouth full of gimbap you nod your head, chewing a little more before mumbling, “Yes to both.” 

He chuckles when he looks at you, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb, which is obviously fine and doesn't set off a flutter in your stomach or a hot flush in your cheeks. He smells faintly of sunscreen and chlorine, water dripping sporadically from his pool-darkened hair. It's cold when it hits your thigh, a nice contrast to the heat by your knee, where your sweaty bare skin touches his. 

As if she'd been watching you this whole time, just waiting for you to finish eating, Minjeong snatches you from the couch as soon as you're done and drags you over to the big long table where she covers your eyes with her hands. There's a lot of shuffling and mumbling before the entire garden erupts into a disjointed chorus of Happy Birthday, and when Minjeong uncovers your eyes, Jake is holding your cake in front of you, chest and neck glowing orange from the lit candles. He's the only thing you can see. The only thing that matters. 

“Make a wish, Yongie,” he says, and his voice is so gentle there's a sting behind your eyes as you screw them shut. 

Making the same wish as this morning, and all of your birthdays since your tenth, you blow out the candles and wish for Jake. 

After the cake and all the pictures, the energy doesn't seem to deplete. If anything, the music gets louder, your friends getting rowdier. About an hour later, in the bathroom upstairs, you take a minute to yourself, recharging before stepping carefully over and around the people talking and making out on the staircase. You're halfway down when the front door swings open and Sunoo walks in. 

Caution to the wind, you sprint towards him and into his arms, giggling when he lifts you up off your feet. “Hola, señor, welcome back,” you mumble into his collarbone. Pulling away, you take a beat just to look at him. It's only been a month since you all visited him in Barcelona for his birthday, but it feels like an age has passed by without the sweet smiling scrunch of his nose and eyes. Without the lemon tang of his cologne or the warm sound of his laugh. The group is complete at long last, your birthday really beginning now at half eleven at night. 

His eyes are big and wet when he opens them. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he says, sounding just as moved as you. “Fuck, I thought I was gonna miss it.”

You lug Sunoo's suitcase up to the room he and Heeseung always share and help him unpack. “I wanna hear everything,” you squeal, plugging his charger into the socket by his bed. 

“No way, tonight's all about you! And I can't believe you didn't tell me Jake finally gave you that necklace.” He reaches out to look at it, brushing over the baby dragon with his thumb. “It's even better than the pictures.”

You roll your eyes but can't stop the smile on your lips. “Jeez, not you too. It only happened last night.”

Sunoo pulls two bottles of Spanish wine from his suitcase and sets them down on the dresser next to Heeseung's aftershave. “Look, I'm just glad it happened at all. Now it's your problem instead of ours.” 

“What’s my problem?”

“Jake’s whole I'm in love with Yongie thing,” he says, delighted by his own bad Australian accent. “I mean, it was sweet, obviously, but it gets to a point, you know. Did you freak when he showed up yesterday?”

It does not feel as good as you thought it might to hear that. It actually does not feel good at all. So much so that if it weren't so surprising, you'd have glossed over it, pivoted to something else. Asked how to say, excuse me, Sunoo, what the fuck? in Spanish or something. But it is, to you, extremely surprising, so you say, “Jake's what?”

And Sunoo's eyebrows pinch together, his head tilting. “He’s been saying he was gonna confess with that necklace for as long as I've known him. Is that not what happened last night?” Now that you're looking at him, really looking at him, you see that his hair is shorter than it was last month, by quite a lot actually, so it doesn't flop over like it would normally. Weird. 

Weird that you didn't notice, not that he cut it, it looks good. Suits him. “I like your haircut.”

“Thank you?”

“I have to go.”

Sunoo bursts out laughing, bewildered. “If you say so. Talk later, Mrs. Sim!” 

In the safety of your bedroom, alone with your swirling thoughts, you pace back and forth, stepping around your open suitcase and the mess of clothes within instead of moving it to the side. It might be nice to organise though, to complete a task you have full control over. Logically, you know you don't have time to do it, but physically, before you can help it, you're kneeling on the hardwood floor emptying out your bag to repack. You fold up your underwear, rolling it neatly to fit in the zipper compartment with your socks. Swimming costumes are next, bikinis and one-pieces separated. Then it's tops, skirts, shorts, and dresses. And lastly, the black coverup from earlier. 

It doesn't take as long as you thought it would, tidying up, nor do you feel any better, so you unpack again and do it twice more. Zipping up your now colour-coordinated suitcase, you wheel it into the corner of the room where Jake's is, so it doesn't get in your way. This time when you pace, you clutch your locket. Jake's locket, technically, if the years he spent holding onto it mean more than the night and day you've had it. Quicker and quicker, you pace the room, but your thoughts won't break, you can't get through to them, not properly. 

Jake, AKA Mr. Change Isn’t All Bad, wavering in the face of his own ideology while expecting you to take it on board, to trust him. Is he a hypocrite for keeping this secret? Are you? Obviously he was going to tell you at some point, to confess, the locket is proof of that. Proof that a day would eventually arrive when all of this would come from Jake. A day he imagined could have been on this trip. This week. Between yesterday and Wednesday. Any day since he got the locket.

If change is good, if it can be good, why did he keep this from you? 

At the sound of the door opening, you halt in your tracks, startled to find Jake standing in the arch behind you when you turn around. “Good evening, milady. Hath the night treateth thee well?” he asks, stepping into the room and greeting you with a deep formal bow. Light from the dock sweeps in through the window, showing off the grin on his face.

You can't bring yourself to share in his amusement, and you know it's bad when the clear sound of his giggles doesn't summon the same giddy butterflies it normally does. For once, his smile does nothing to move you, to settle your nerves. If anything, his smile scares you, makes you feel worse. That he could be so happy with the way things are, so unwilling to change, even for the better, makes you feel a bit sick. It hurts your throat to swallow, to say the words, we need to talk, when you blurt them out.

In the light once more, his smile falls and his eyebrows rise. “Sure,” he says. “Can I pee first?” 

“No.”

“Okay, so I wasn't actually asking, YN. Obviously I'm gonna pee if I need to.”

“I'm coming with you.”

Jake lets out an amused breath. “Come on then.” With each step he takes towards the bathroom, the floorboards creak under foot—they do the same when you follow.

Against the locked door, you play with the hem of your dress, folding it up and up and up until your stomach is out before letting it go, the stretched cotton unravelling to graze your thighs again, before repeating the action. Your thoughts are scrambled, zipping by too quickly for you to get a proper hold on any of them, at least for long enough to figure it out. His feelings and yours, deep enough to discuss and share with others, to wish and complain, say, finally, in the face of the smallest hints of reciprocation, yet kept from each other and for all this time, behind closed mouths that begged to be fed. Closed mouths that still beg. You and Jake, and Jake and you, watching and waiting for divine intervention, some act of God or His blessed hand, of Sunoo as it turned out. 

The toilet seat hits the lid and the rustle of fabric follows—his swimming trunks. You can't stop your wanting gaze quick enough, looking from your thighs to glimpse the untanned skin of his hips, his thighs and his small ass for longer than necessary, feeling your heart rate quicken before you screw your eyes shut and his pee hits the toilet water. 

There's nothing weird about this. Mostly. You've peed in front of all of your friends. It's just that now that you're here, with him, this doesn't really feel like the right time to say everything you need to say, to get everything that's been weighing you down all these years off your chest. This definitely could have waited, at least for a moment where he wasn't standing with his soft dick in his hands. You're good at waiting after all, it's par for the course in your situation, though Jake hasn't quite taken to patience yet. 

“Yongie?” he says, for what you're realising is the second time. 

The toilet flushes. 

“Huh?”

“What's the matter?” Jake asks. He's at the sink when you open your eyes, spots along the edges of your vision, along the edges of him. It takes a second for him to come into focus, his face flushed more than earlier with a worried look cast across it. Thick eyebrows drawn together, squinting eyes searching face. “You look terrified.”

You can only laugh then, pressing yourself against the door, because that's exactly how you feel too. Turning stomach and racing heart. Palms slick with sweat. Under Jake's gaze, you wipe your hands on your dress and give a smile that feels about right. “No, not at all—” You clear your throat, shaking your head. “—Sunoo's here.”

His face breaks out into a grin as he turns to the mirror, soap suds forming on his skin. “Fuck,” he says. “Finally!”

“Yeah, no, exactly. It's just that he said something really weird about you.”

And even weirder than Sunoo's words, is Jake's reaction. How his smile falls, and his body goes completely still for the fastest second—you'd have missed it if you blinked. “What'd he say?” he asks, clearing his throat afterwards then clearing it again. 

“It was about us, I guess. That you… He said that you love me, Jaeyun.”

“Ah.” He lets out a breath, shoulders falling, seeming relieved. “Obviously I love you. And I love Layla, and Minjeong, and Jay, and everyone else.” 

“Mm, obviously. Uh, the way he said it though, how he put it, it was like you might love me the way I love you.”

His eyebrows raise for a split second. “Oh, yeah? And what way is that?”

“More than I should,” you admit quietly and as scared as you are, it feels nice to say it. To get it off your chest. 

If Jake heard you, or registered what you said, cared even, he gives no indication, only turning off the tap and shaking his wet hands over the sink. It would hurt less if he'd thrown up or said, ew, or, yuck, out loud. If he'd laughed. Anything but silence, anything but the way he approaches you only to dry his hands on the plush white towel by the door. It is unbearable to stand here in this, the aftermath, with Jake watching you from hardly an arm's length away. Still, you can't bring yourself to leave, hostage to your feelings and his reaction — or lack thereof — to them. You know now, just how much you love him, because the only thing you want to do is hide your face in his chest, to feel the beat of his heart against your cheek.

When he finally speaks, it's to say, “More than you should?”

You can only nod. 

“Would that be okay with you, Yongie?” Jake asks, and the softness of his voice betrays his worry, the depth of his concern. He tucks your hair behind your ear, his hand trembling against your skin. A spark at the contact. “If I loved you like that, I mean? More than I should?”

“Yeah.”

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, but he doesn't give in. Doesn't take his hand from your cheek or take his eyes off yours. “Are you sure? Because you look pretty upset about it.”

“It just, it scares me a bit,” you tell him, and it's the understatement of the century. If his eyes fell even slightly, he'd see your heart beating out of your chest, begging to be held in his hands, to be looked after by him, like always. 

“That's okay.” Jake bites his bottom lip, watching you for a beat longer before taking your hand in his. He brings your palm to his bare chest, pressing it against his warm skin, right over his heart as it races away just like yours. “See, Yongie? It scares me too, a lot.”

He's trying, trying hard, laying himself bare, his literal heart in the palm of your hand, but it is not a comfort. For as long as you've known him, he's only had two real fears, needles and roller coasters, the only two things on earth he can't be pressured into. Otherwise, he spends a lot of time tempering your fears, weathering your storms for you — at least in the moment — dismantling them in a matter of sentences, but this, his honesty, Jake at his most vulnerable, is only scaring you even more. 

You're being unfair. You know you're being unfair. Jake is gentle and accommodating and patient, and if you, for all of your flaws, are allowed to be scared, then so is he. You gulp and gulp again, trying to talk yourself down the way he usually does. And if anything, him opening up to you like this, showing this to you, can only be a good thing. He trusts you, he still trusts you, so things haven't changed that much. 

Not yet. 

“I know it's not what you want to hear, and I can't promise it'd be perfect or even easy, but I can promise that I'm always going to love you,” he admits, his voice so gentle and so sure. “I always have, YN.”

Like they tend to do, his words sink into you, that sweet look in his brown eyes taking over until you feel it too. Feel his certainty as if it's your own, his earnestness. The great rise and fall of his chest as he breathes intentionally, holding a deep inhale before releasing it. Over and over until his heart steadies itself, slowly but surely—the more you watch, the more you feel your heart doing the same thing. Feel the fear subsiding, feel butterflies swirling in the pit of your stomach, feel a smile breaking free.

“Always?” you ask as excitement takes its first breaths within you.

Finally, he caves too, letting a smile curve over his pink lips, a breathy laugh coming out as he nods his head. “I think so, but I only realised when you gave up on our pact,” he says. “I thought I was crazy, slicing my finger open like that just because you asked. And even while I was bleeding out, halfway to death, I wasn't mad you bailed on me, I was just happy to be with you.”

It's hard not to laugh hearing that, at the memory. After he'd done it, he lifted his hand to show you the tiny dot of red on the tip of his middle finger where he'd pricked himself with a safety pin, and flashed you a nervous smile, braces peeking out between his lips. The sight of it, of him, your wounded Jaeyunie, moved you to tears. Great full-bodied sobs that definitely would have alarmed his parents had they been home, or his older brother if he wasn't too busy yelling at his TV screen over a game of FIFA Street. You were beside yourself, apologising profusely because you just couldn't do it, not only would it hurt, but it was extremely unhygienic and do you know how many blood-borne diseases there are out there, Jaeyun?

And just like he said, he didn't get mad or even upset, he simply bandaged his finger and took you into his arms, stroking your hair until you calmed down.

“I think I was too busy trying to hide how I felt to notice that you felt the same,” you admit, in awe of the fact that while your heart had been secretly beating in his direction, his was doing the same in yours. In awe of the fact that right now, you can feel his heart racing again.

“Been a while since then though,” Jake points out, only continuing when you agree. “So I guess things won't change too much between us, right? Since we've loved each other this long, it'll be the same, don't you think?” 

Sometimes it feels as if he holds the key to more than just your heart, but to the anxious muddle of your brain as well, so that he always knows what to say to nip your fears in their buds. And has the patience to do it all over again, reassuring you as best he can when they rear their ugly heads once more. 

“Actually, I think there's one thing we could change,” he adds.

Tilting your head, you're pleased to find that the idea of something changing sparks curiosity rather than dread. “What is it?”

“We could, like…“ Jake has to stop to giggle, covering his mouth with his hand as he tries to calm down. “Like, kiss, you know?”

“I'd like that, but I think we could do a lot more than just kiss,” you suggest, and it's all it takes for him to cut the laughter. 

Effective immediately—every last trace of amusement gone like it was never there in the first place, simply imagined. Replaced by his teeth biting down on his bottom lip and turning the pink white under the pressure. There's something there, to the look on his face, like his gears are turning slower and slower, overheated and lust-laden as yours at the sight of him. Jake's eyes trail every inch of your body, catching on your curves through your sheer cover-up, bright pink bikini beaming through white cotton. His palms scorch your waist when he takes hold of you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Like what, gorgeous? Had some ideas myself, but I wanna compare notes with you.”

Butterflies, heat and awful, awful thoughts descend on you like a sudden shower. Your legs hooked over his shoulders, his teeth in your neck, grazing and biting, his pretty face all screwed up before his jaw falls slack; whimpers and whines and grunts and moans; his thrusts getting quicker, sloppy, until he comes, without a condom obviously. The ease with which you can conjure the thoughts, the clarity of the image and its familiarity is humiliating, that they've occurred to you on many a night spent with your hand between your thighs. 

For fear of him seeing your thoughts written all over your face, you bury it in his chest and screw your eyes shut. “Don't be so untoward,” you mumble into his skin, liking the faint nip of salt on your lips when you lick them.

“You were untoward first,” he points out and you can hear his smile in his voice. “You're so hot, Yongie, don't be shy.”

When you muster up the courage to look at him, the pretty red kiss of alcohol and sunburn on his cheeks makes you smile, lips quirking into a giddy, horny curve. In his eyes though, where there had been heat, deep desire, there's only softness. A gaze that is so startling in its tenderness, in its pure love, that it makes your breath hitch in your throat before you ask, “What is it?”

“You love me,” he says reverently, as if he's informing you or he's only processed it now, taken it in.

“And you love me.”

Jake smiles, giving you a firm nod. “Yes, ma'am,” he says, leaning in to finally — finally — close the gap between your mouth and his. 

Your mind blanks completely at the feel of it, of his plump lips on yours. A gentle brush at first, like he's testing the waters, like he doesn't know you're utterly gone for him. He licks slowly along the seam of your lips before you open up to him, and then, suddenly, it's everything. It's the taste of the beers he's had to drink tonight, the slip of his tongue over yours, of his damp hair through your fingers. A decade's worth of want, for him, for this, unfolding and collapsing in and around you.

There's no telling where your mouth ends and his begins, no discernment between bumping teeth and smiling lips, nor the shallow breaths exchanged from one to other. Your bodies are as close as they could possibly be, your Jake warm and solid and so in love against you, no room for anything to get between you. Not even his dick that presses thick and hard into you, long, more so than you'd ever realised.

At the first roll of your hips against his, Jake's grip on your waist tightens, a needy groan rumbling through his chest and into yours as he grinds back even harder. A lick of heat sets your body alight, taking over, so that before you even register it, you're pushing his hands lower, down over the curve of your ass. Moaning at the feeling of his greedy palms slipping under your dress, under your bikini bottoms to grab at your bare skin, to squeeze, to smack. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, the word hot against your mouth. “You're perfect, you know that?”

From your lips to his, a breathy laugh passes, an endless flutter going off in your stomach.

“I'm serious, YN.”

“Good.”

Jake smiles, that boyish grin that's never really changed, that's always had the same effect, always makes you smile too. But it doesn't stick around for long, as his focus seems to shift instead towards rocking his hips with yours. The pace he sets, enforces, is maddening, slow enough for you to feel every last inch of him on you, and with dizzying clarity, how he throbs and twitches. Yet, you miss him for the split second he pulls back before he's on you again. You're not sure you'll ever have enough, no matter how much he gives you, you probably won't be fully satisfied until you can peel his skin off and wear it over yours. For now though, you won't pretend there isn't a pool in your bikini, hot and sticky desire gathering between your legs. He presses wet kisses to your cheek, trailing down your neck and latching onto the sensitive spot that makes you weak in the knees, a shiver rolling down your spine as he holds you tighter. 

On an exhale, you cry out his name, head against the door, nails sinking into his biceps. With his head on your shoulder, he lets out a jagged breath, his hips stuttering to a halt. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“You did not,” you mumble, amazed by him, by the new heat coming from his swimming trunks and how you somehow want him even more. 

It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, never mind speak, but finally, he says, “I did, Yongie. I promise I'm not usually so fast.” He almost sounds distraught, humming when you stroke his hair, scratching at his scalp with your fingernails.

“My sweet baby.” You can't stop yourself from smiling, from asking to see. 

“I'm soft and I know it looks disgusting in there. Need a shower, YN.”

“I don't mind.”

He chuckles, lifting his head to peck your lips. “Go ahead, but don't say I didn't warn you.”

It's probably only because he's Jake, and you love him, that the sight doesn't repulse you when you pull back his waistband and take a look inside. Strings of cum connect the fabric to his soft penis and dark pubic hair. He groans at it, turning his head, but you can't look away. “Can I taste it?”

“Sure, Yongie, do what you want.”

What you want is to suck him off, so while Jake covers his eyes with his hands, you get down on your knees and take his dick into your mouth. It's warm and bland mostly, save for the slight salty tang hitting your tongue.

“YN,” he whispers. “What are you—shit.” 

You pull off, stroking him with your hand and liking the heat of it as his tip starts to flush, the soft pink turning richer, redder. “I've never tasted it before, and you said I could,” you explain simply, eager to continue, to sate the pulse between your thighs. 

“Yeah, but I…” Jake blinks hard before looking down at you. He's very handsome like this, with the sheen of sweat on his skin, shining under the bathroom lights. The thick length of his neck is flushed too, his ears. Your heart stutters against your ribs, your cheeks heating up as he bites down on his bottom lip and sighs. “You wanna suck me off, darling?”

Instead of answering with a simple, yes, you answer with a kiss to his tip, tonguing tonguing his slit while working your hands over the rest of him. It might be pretty if it weren't so big. 

“Always so gorgeous, aren't you? Doesn't matter what you're doing,” he mumbles, pushing your hair away from your face with a soft smile. “It's yours, baby, take it all, yeah? Know you can.”

Desperate to please him, to have him in every single way, you open your mouth as wide as you can to take him in, relishing the weight of him, fully hard, on your tongue, the sting of your stretched lips at the corners. It's all you want, all that matters, to keep hearing those sweet little sounds, soft murmurs of your name along with praise. To see the look on his face, disbelief written all over it. Clear in the knit of his brows, his eyes wide for as long as he can keep them open, his swollen lips stuck ajar. It's getting to you, how much he seems to like it, like that you're the one doing it, so much that you can't help but press your thighs together as you bob your head, chasing friction, pressure. 

His hips stutter whenever your tongue flicks at the underside of his head, making him grunt. “Just like that, YN, fuck. You know exactly what I like,” he tells you, fingers getting lost in your hair, guiding you back and forth along the length of him, rougher than he seems to realise. “Think this pretty little mouth was made just for me.” Whether Jake means it or it's just horny rambling, it makes your heart race anyway, because you think the same, think it so deeply, so entirely, you feel yourself clenching around nothing.

And when he comes for the second time it's with his tip at the back of your throat and your name on the tip of his tongue. Muttered curses spill out of him as you keep sucking anyway, paying no mind to the hot drops of his release slipping onto your chest and thighs. All the while, you tongue at his slit so he whines, whimpers, and throws his head back, until he can't take it any longer, pulling out. Falling to his knees. You can't resist him, wiping his cum from your skin and sucking your fingers clean. Sucking on his thumb when he strokes your cheek. Leaning in and taking his bottom lip between yours to suck on that too. 

“So good, baby,” he mumbles, breathless. “Way too good.” 

The heat in your stomach doesn't subside, if anything, it spreads. Especially with the way he looks down at you, his eyes boring into yours, warm pools of deep brown and all the love in the world. “I love you, Jake“ you say, and it feels like the first time. Fresh and exciting and giggle inducing. It is the first time, technically, saying it in this way, for him to hear and understand exactly how you mean it. “I really love you so much.” 

“I love you so much too,” Jake says, and it's so much better to hear it from him. He pecks your lips, smiling when you lick into his mouth. “And I'm sorry about earlier, didn't mean to push you like that, yeah?”

A chance for both of you to catch your breath, to calm down, only comes when he gets into the shower. You brush your teeth, liking the dull ache in your jaw and the raw feeling in your throat, skin glowy and radiant after you wash your face. On cloud nine, you sit on the end of the bed to wait for Jake, but you can't sit still. Leg bouncing frantically while you drum your hands against your bare thighs. Restless, you get up and once again, pace the length of the room, this time with a grin you can't control playing on your lips. This surplus energy comes in handy though, because when Jake joins you in the bedroom, he wastes no time getting his head between your thighs and evening the score. 

Now that you and Jake have kissed once, a few times — a hundred — it’s impossible to stop. And each time is better than the last. First thing in the morning, you share giddy kisses in bed. And again right after brushing your teeth. Alone in the kitchen, you kiss against the countertop. And again by the pool after he swims four laps to impress you. 

His arms flex to show his muscles as he lifts himself out of the water, droplets running down his skin, racing through the dip in his chest, his abs. He’s already starting to tan, a clean line around his hips where the golden skin turns lighter under his shorts. Just the sight of it, the memory of it and everything else you saw last night, heats your skin, tugs your lips up at the corners. Jake straightens his waistband before extending a huge hand to help you up from the concrete, pulling you into him and pressing his lips to yours again and again. He giggles into your mouth, palms holding your hips to his. It’s hard to kiss like this, with both of you grinning against each other’s lips, but you don’t stop trying. 

“I. Love. You,” he says between pecks. “So. So. Much.”

You will never tire of hearing him say that, even though it’s the other thing you can’t stop doing now that you’ve done it once. It comes out at every opportunity, for Jake at least, you’ve been having fun teasing him, verbally opposing the flush in your cheeks and the grin on your face. “I. Know. You. Do.”

Unimpressed, he pulls away to look down at you, and seeming to notice your squinting eyes, he turns you around so the sun heats your back and his chest instead of your face. Now that you can see him properly, you can see that his smiling lips are covered in lip gloss. Most of his face is covered in it, shiny pink on his chin and cheeks, the tip of his nose. “Say it back,” he mumbles into your palm while you clean him up, though it’s no use, because you press your lips right back to his. 

“It. Back.” 

“Not. Funny.” 

You pull away, playing with the wet hair at the nape of his neck, twirling the longer tufts of it around your fingers. “Why are we laughing then?” you ask, struggling to stop.

Jake’s eyes and nose are scrunched, happy creases all over his face. “Because it’s funny watching you play hard to get after last night,” he whispers, and the uneven slant of his lips undoes you. “You’re a very bad actor, Yongie.”

Unfortunately, he’s got you there. It was like he’d hypnotised you, cast a spell so that the only things you could say were his name, and I love you. Every single time he touched you made it worse, each stroke of his tongue or brush of his fingers had you reeling, his name hardly more than a desperate cry or a sob—never mind the sight of him kneeling between your legs breathing heavily, his lips and chin covered in you. 

Completely defenceless, shameless maybe, you pull the only card you can. “Yeah, well, you’re hard.”

“Your. Fault.” He pushes your hips back so you can’t feel him pressed against you. “Love. You. Too. Much.”

The smile that curves your lips is reflexive, a knee-jerk reaction just like the butterflies in your stomach. “I. Love. You. More.” Flustered and giddy and giggling, you run away from him and all the way up to Minjeong’s room, flinging the door open. 

She’s laying on her beautiful four-poster bed, scribbling into her diary, but she abandons it at the sight of you. “Holy shit!” she says, covering her mouth. “You had sex last night.” 

You let the door swing shut behind you, biting your lip to stifle a smile. “I wish.”

“Those words don’t match your afterglow.”

“It’s thirty degrees, MJ. I’m sweating.” You roll your eyes, climbing into the bed next to her. “And there’s no such thing as an afterglow when you kiss someone—we would’ve heard about that by now. Although he did finish in his shorts, so I guess we did hook up.”

Minjeong’s eyes are like saucers. “Jake what? Just from kissing?”

“Kissing?” Yizhuo asks from the doorway. “You kissed Jake?” 

“They’ve been kissing all morning, I could see them from my window,” Aeri supplies, slipping past Yizhuo and into the room. It’s just like yesterday in the kitchen, except the telephone is working perfectly. “It was gross, in a cute way, I guess.”

“And he came in his shorts!” Minjeong squeals, kicking her feet.

This development, revelation, has Aeri and Yizhuo’s jaws on the floor, gasping as they rush over to the bed and leap onto the duvet in front of you. Having had your first and last sexual experiences during the summer before university, you’ve never had a story to share during debriefs, always in the listener’s shoes eager to hear more. 

Spurred on by the thrill of evoking this reaction, you can’t help but say, “Then he came in my mouth!”

Clearly as delighted as you, the girls break out into giggles and applause, nudging each other and hugging you, smiling from ear to ear. Your heart is racing in your chest, the smile on your face aching your cheeks, as they set off in a chorus of oh my gods and finallys. Maybe in the grand scheme of things — at least in your group — a blowjob was hardly anything to write home about, hardly anything to warrant more than a hum or a nod or a what else, but your having given one, and having given one to Jake, made the very admission seem like some kind of generational disclosure, some unique foray into sexual exploration. Made you something of a pioneer, an innovator even. 

Like air from a popped balloon, the story launches out of you, from picking your coverup and eating on the couch, to Sunoo’s slip-up and watching Jake pee, absolutely no detail is spared. Especially not when it comes to the feeling of Jake’s head between your legs. The whole time, your cheeks burn furiously and all of your words come out a mile a minute so you have to take a deep breath at the end, the girls watching you with varying levels of shock painted on their faces. 

It’s Minjeong who speaks first, tilting her head. “So he’s just as pathetic as he looks? That’s really hot, like, I’m sorry but he’s extremely hot.”

“Right?” Aeri nods. 

“I wouldn’t have thought to use that word…” You trail off. In theory, it seems a harsh thing to say, pathetic, but the more you think about it, the more objectively true it becomes. His little moans and whimpers, how easily he got hard in his shorts, how easily he finished. Pathetic. Maybe he is a little, but you like it, love it, feel a shiver down your spine at the thought. “It was sweet in the moment, how I said his name and he just fell apart, but yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Yizhuo sighs, shaking her head. Her cheeks and neck are flushed red. “I’ve never looked at him like that, but… I understand you so much better now, YN. You guys are freaky as fuck, I have to respect it. And I’m a thousand percent sure Sunoo did that on purpose.”

You hadn’t considered that, but it was the exact sort of thing he would do, losing his patience faster than the rest of you and taking matters into his own hands. After all, you and Jake had waited years, and it only took Sunoo a handful of minutes to confess on his behalf. There was no reason to wonder though, it was just as likely he’d gotten the same idea as everyone else had in the kitchen, and sharing your thinking, Aeri says, “I think he just saw the locket and thought the same as we all did.” 

“Uh uh.” Minjeong shakes her head, lifting her phone to show you the screen. It’s her text thread with him.

Minjeong: Jake gave her the necklace and didn’t say anything, he’s so fucking stupid. They’re just gonna be friends forever atp all bc he thinks he’ll scare her off

Sunoo: LMAOOOOO poor guy has rocks for brains BUT not completely doomed he just needs our help

Sunoo: *MY help

“That’s a little mean,” you mumble half-heartedly. “It was me being stupid.”

Yizhuo pinches the bridge of her nose. “If you and Jake kissing means we have to be nice to him all the time, I’m voting against this relationship.”

“Yizh—”

“All in favour of JakeYN breaking up right now, say, aye.”

Right in front of you, all of the girls raise their hands and from the doorway, Jimin gawks at you. “JakeYN doing what?”

“Well, we’re not even really…” You trail off, only realising now that you didn’t exactly put a word on what the two of you are. “Together in the official sense.”

Yizhuo sighs. “Oh, Lord.”

For Jimin’s sake — and yours — you tell the story again from top to bottom, while Aeri, Minjeong, and Yizhuo listen again, just as eager and nosey as the first time, oohing and ahhing at all the same parts. Jimin has a lot more questions than they did though—is he big? Yes, Jimin. Thick? Yes, Jimin. He looks like he’d whimper, does he whimper? Yes, Jimin. 

With everyone caught up to speed, you rush to your room — relieved to find it empty — and bring your suitcase into Minjeong’s so the girls can help you pick out something to wear to the beach. Luckily, it’s perfectly organised, with all of your swimming costumes neatly rolled up next to your underwear so you don’t have to take everything out to find all of them. At the end of the bed, you stand in a row appraising the spread of your swimwear.

“I think you need to wear the world’s tiniest bikini, so these are out,” Jimin says first, taking all of your one pieces and rolling them back up the way you had them packed. Whether or not she receives the mental thanks you extend her way is anyone’s guess. 

“Your ass looks best in this one.” Yizhuo lifts the blue bikini you wore on Saturday night. 

Aeri rebuts with a strappy black bikini in her hand. “Your boobs look better in this one though.”

“No, that’s your Instagram bikini,” Minjeong says, shaking her head. “You can’t do anything if you wear that.”

“I guess I could take pictures for Instagram,” you point out, not really caring which bikini they pick, obviously you like them all or you wouldn’t have brought them. The main reason you’re even letting this decision spiral into such a big thing is that you’re having fun with the girls, having fun feeling fully like you’re part of them, one of them. Mostly, your attachment to Jake is harmless, but it comes at the expense of this sometimes.

With her arms around your waist and her chin on your shoulder, Jimin speaks right into your ear, making you squirm. “Or Jake could take pictures,” she sing-songs, and you can picture the waggle of her eyebrows. “Wear the black one, YN, he’ll like it. And I’ll like it if he doesn’t.”

Heeding her advice, you take the black two piece from Aeri. “He’ll definitely like it, he’s a boob guy for sure.”

“I think he’s a you guy,” Minjeong says, gathering up your swimming costumes and packing them away. “What do you mean for sure?” 

A pang of heat burns your skin, flooding your cheeks. You can’t even look at her — or any of the girls — eyes darting to the pastel pink painted wall on the other side of the room. The white trim and sheer white curtains. Fanning your face, you finally say, “He was all over them basically, like, in bed.”

From Minjeong’s vanity, Aeri scoffs, spinning around in the fluffy desk chair to glare at you. “For a story you told in grave detail, it seems like you missed out a lot of details.” 

“You know what they say.” You shrug, feigning nonchalant like you’re not grinning from ear to ear. “A true gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, ladies.”  

“Okay, so you’re obviously not a true gentleman considering you described the exact movement of his tongue on your cl—” You cut Jimin off with your hand over her mouth.

“Jesus,” you mumble. “I was there, alright? I get it.”

As you’d expect for two p.m. in the dead of July, the beach is heaving. Families dot the sand with bright parasols and screaming children, while lines of vendors sell ice cream and hot dogs and chilled water for more than what’s reasonable. In the middle of it all, on a mass of beach towels, you and the girls drink cider and beat the same long-dead, stupid, stupid Jungwoo–shaped horses as always. 

“You could ditch the first two movies and still make sense of the story, Revenge of the Sith is clearly the best.” Aeri huffs, putting her book down to defend her favourite of the prequels. “The Phantom Menace was boring as fuck, you only like it for Padmé’s dresses.” 

Even though you’re not part of the conversation, at this accusation, you have to speak up. “No one’s watching Phantom Menace for the dresses, Aeri. Everyone knows Padmé’s best dress is at the Naboo picnic in Attack of the Clones.” 

“Thank you!” Jimin pats you on the back, pleased that you’ve come to her defence. “I never even said Phantom Menace was the best, I just like it. Obviously Revenge is better, I mean, isn’t Anakin such a big, strong boy in that one?” 

Aeri doesn’t even dignify that with a response, at least not with words anyway. Instead, she puts her head down, face in the towel and lets out a scream louder than your laughter, causing families and couples to look around in terror.

Regardless of the crowd, and oblivious to Aeri’s mounting irritation, the boys do keepy ups in a tight circle with varying degrees of skill. Jake doesn’t drop the ball once, neither does Heeseung. Sunoo does well enough to keep Jake happy. Jay’s very good at kicking the ball, but not so much at the aiming of the ball, which leaves poor Sunghoon sprinting off to the shore before he has a proper chance to play.

It doesn’t take long before Jay gets kicked out and a visibly irritated Jake calls time out. “Yongie,” he yells, waving with both of his arms, lips spreading into a stomach-fluttering grin. “Hey, darling! Sub in?”

You shake your head, pointing over at them. “Jay’s right there!”

Jake actually laughs at that, his head falling back. “We need someone good, Yongie, please?” 

“No, thank you.”

His lips curl downwards, pushing out into a pouty frown, but you remain strong, unswayed no matter how cute he is, no matter how much every last fibre of your body cries out to be near him. You’re already tired from the heat, and — having opted for the picture bikini in the end — not actually dressed to run around the beach anyway. Seeming stumped, Jake stands there with his hands on his hips, watching you, perhaps trying to communicate that he’d really like to be spending time with you at the minute. At least, that’s the message you’re trying to send him, willing him to ditch the game altogether and join you on the blanket, though he does no such thing. 

It’s Sunghoon who calls Aeri over to play instead, and with a grumble, she swaps with Sunoo so the game can continue. They even work up a rally, now that Jay’s been relegated to ball boy, and before long, Yizhuo runs over to join in too. You and Jimin and Sunoo stay safe on the blanket, watching over napping Minjeong and taking turns to wake her up so she can turn over. 

“One more question.” Jimin lifts her head from her book, looking out at the group for a beat before she looks at you. “Was he good?” 

“At what?”

“In bed.”

A smile tugs at your lips before you can help it, destined forever to giggle and blush at the memory by the looks of things. “I’d say so, I don’t have much to compare him to, but…” You trail off, looking over your shoulders before leaning in and whispering the rest. “He made me finish twice.”

“Twice?” Sunoo repeats, eyebrows shooting up.

“With his mouth, yeah.”

“So that’s the kissing he was talking about,” he says with a slow nod.

Jimin nudges him, muttering his name, unimpressed. He nudges her right back, rolling his eyes. “What? He’s the one who said a true gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Jeez.” She sighs. “You two really are perfect for each other.”

Fighting your smile is futile, so you don’t bother. You’d have to agree with her, eternally thankful that she sees it too, even if she’s told you in a ridiculous context. Pushing your sunglasses up into your hair, your eyes find Jake right away, latching onto the sight. The flex of his back as he stretches this way and that, muscles accentuated by the slick sheen of sweat. The bob of his glistening Adam’s apple in his throat. The tipping back of his head whenever someone drops the ball, how he groans in frustration. 

“Hoon, you totally had that, are you fucking kidding?” Jake’s red in the face and pinching the bridge of his nose, but Sunghoon only shrugs, laughing as Jay runs off towards the shore to collect the ball. 

This side of him amuses all of you, the loveliest, most patient person any of you know losing his cool over the slighting thing if sports are involved. His hyper-competivity is probably the reason he’s always been so good at football, that he takes it seriously, more meticulous on the pitch than with anything else. 

For you though, Jake in this state, all riled up and irritated, is a guilty pleasure. The clench of his jaw, the way he rakes his hand through his wet hair, how he cuts his eyes at Sunghoon, seeming more annoyed by the way he only laughs harder. These tics, and them existing on Jake, force your heart to race, skipping beat after beat against your ribs to no end. 

“Sunoo,” you say, leaning forward to get a good look at him. “Tell Jake if he ever feels like being ungentlemanly, he doesn’t have to hold back.”

His ears burn red and he hums in response, giving you a thumbs-up.

“You’re disgusting, YN.” Jimin gives you a discerning look from top to bottom as if she’s relearning you, reassessing, and, clearly liking what she sees, she grins. “I love it.”  

You can only smile because you love it too, love this side that he brings out of you, this side that you don’t have to keep to yourself anymore, this side that Jake loves as well—Jake who still stands irritated amongst the group. You’re drawn in completely by the pinch of his eyebrows, by the way his frustration melts away as soon as he catches your eye. The crease of his brows smooths over, and his lips curl up when you blow him a kiss.

Apparently deciding he’s had enough of the game, he comes bounding over the way Layla normally does, further committing to the bit by laying down on top of you, his front to your back, like a hot and gangly weighted blanket. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he presses tickly kisses to your skin, pecking a trail up to your cheek where he stops and mumbles, “D’you see me play, Yongie? Was I good?”

“Yes, Jake, very,” you say through a smile that aches your cheeks. 

Instead of thanking you, his response is to roll over so he’s lying on his back and pulling you close. Everywhere he touches, your skin is on fire, soft fingertips hotter than the shining sun against you. Giddy giggles trickle out of you like water from a tap, endless as the ocean, even while he kisses you—a messy liplock that you can hardly focus on for the thudding of your heart in your ears, for the way your friends cheer and applaud behind you.

He pulls away and it’s an affront, though he’s still smiling, the pointy corners of his lips quirked up and beautiful as he looks at you, breathless. “Why didn’t you wanna play with us? You know you’re my favourite teammate.” 

“This isn’t really a sports bikini,” you explain, liking the way his hand falls from your back to your hip, twirling the string. “One deep breath and I’m flashing everyone.” 

Jake nods, patting your thigh and letting his eyes fall to your chest. “I can tell,” he says, laughing on an exhale as his hand comes up between you, pulling the black cup more securely over your left breast. “Instagram bikini.”

“Mhm.” You give him a peck, but he holds you against him, his hand slipping into your hair to keep you right where he wants you, which apparently is as close as humanly possible just to kiss you.

It’s never just kissing with Jake though, that’s the thing, and you’re not sure it ever could be. More than lips on lips and tongue on tongue, it’s a full body experience. It’s your knee slipping between his, your foot stroking his calf, it’s his dick hard against you, his hands slipping over your body. The lick of heat in the pit of your stomach, the lightness in your head and in your body like none of it is real, like you don’t really exist. But you could never complain, not when his soft lips move so savouringly over yours. Not when his tongue licks into your mouth with such care, drawing hushed whines out of you, out of him, deep and slow like he wants to feel every single part of your mouth, like he wants to fall into you, to become one.

Unconcerned about anyone else, Jake lets his hand slip over your ass, cupping it gently. And as much as you like it, you lift his hand to a decent height on your waist, making him chuckle. “Couldn’t. Help. It,” he tells you between kisses and breaths. “Not. Sorry.”

“You’re a disaster, Jake,” you whisper, even though you’re smiling, even though the only thing keeping your hands out of the front of his shorts is that they’re too busy tugging his hair. “No decorum at all.”

“I’m saying this in the most respectful way possible, but it’s kinda impossible for me to have decorum when you look like that. I mean, now that I’m allowed to touch you after all these years of wanting to, Yongie, it’s all pent up.” His gentle voice doesn’t match his words or the hungry look in his blown eyes. 

You gulp, and the only thing you can think to say is, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Look so good in black, in everything.”

“Thank you.” Holding eye contact is a feat, but there’s nowhere you’d rather look than at your sweet Jake, no matter how much your cheeks burn. 

“Such a perfect girl, YN, even look good in nothing,” he says, and you can hear in his raspy voice, see in his lidded eyes, feel on your stomach that he wants you in a way he can’t have you on the beach, but it just sounds earnest. Sweet. 

The smile on your face and the cold sweat on the back of your neck answer for you. At once, it’s affirming and terrifying to hear these things from him, these things that only ever existed in the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind, nestled away behind the wholesome stuff. Cuddles and held hands. Forehead kisses, wearing his hoodie. These things you’ve only ever let out late at night by yourself. All you can do is hide your face in his chest and feel the rumble of his laughter on your nose.

“Don’t need to be shy, Yongie, not with me,” he mumbles, kissing the top of your head. 

Leaning back, you face him again, liking the freckles forming in the middle of his face, scattered over the broad bridge of his nose, the red pimples on his forehead and chin, this face you’ve come to know better than your own. As if it’s your own. How could you ever be shy with him? Your bestest friend, your… whatever he is now. Dread casts a cool shadow over you at the mere thought. You press a soft kiss to his lips, but it doesn’t help.

“I’m not shy, this is just weird,” you admit. “No offence."

“What’s weird?”

Motioning into the space between you, you cringe at the way Jake’s face falls, though briefly. He clears his throat before he speaks. “You don’t like… us?”

“I do, Jake. I love it, I just…” You press your lips together and wait, either for Jake to supply the rest of your sentence or the world to come to its fiery end, saving you from the duty of salvaging what you’ve so quickly torn apart. Neither happens, so you push on, ignoring the ache in your chest. “I pictured this for so long that having it, having you, is a bit weird. Not in a bad way, it’s just… as if it’s not real or something, like I’m dreaming.”

Jake pinches your waist, making you cry out and you hear your friends cheering behind you. “See, Yongie? Not a dream. Dreams aren’t nearly as good as this,” he says.

He’s right, but just like he said they wouldn’t, things have changed a lot. Good change — amazing, even — but that doesn’t make this any less surreal. Doesn’t tamp the fuzzy feeling when he kisses you or tells you that he loves you, nor the way he seems to glow whenever you look at him. After all, the sun can’t rise if it doesn’t set, and dream or not, you’ll have to wake up eventually. 

Seeming to realise he hasn’t quite soothed you, he changes his tack, stroking your hair and pecking your lips. “Does all of it feel like that or just right now, Yongie?”

You take a moment before responding, trying to feel more in the moment than in your head. Over your shoulder, your friends chat and bicker and laugh, the same as everyone else around you. By Jake’s head, the coarse sand is hot on your palm, slipping easily through your fingers. Against you, Jake is solid, he is warm and waiting. Patient. Yours. On his collarbone, there is a purple bloom in the shape of your mouth. It’s enough to ease the tightness in your throat so you can say, “Just right now.”

Jake doesn’t speak right away, only eyeing you instead, slowly like he’s taking you in. He gulps before he speaks. “I think that’s alright then, Yongie. Because even if this is a dream, I’ll be sleeping right next to you when you wake up, won’t I?” he asks, waiting for your response. You nod, so he continues. “And I’ll love you just as much as I do right now.”

You have no idea how you got so lucky, how someone could possibly love you this much—how that someone could be the one person you’ve wanted so badly all this time. His heart and yours beating in tandem, towards and for each other, bound by a single thread of gold or something greater, and you had no idea.

“Okay,” you mumble, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “Now I’m shy.”

Holding you tight, he presses his lips to your ear. “So am I,” he admits. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you say back, and it feels more honest than before, better somehow. Better to hear the spread of his lips into a smile, to feel it and his heart racing against his chest. Against you.

Being this close to him is addictive, to deeply inhale his citrus and sunscreen scent, and taste the salt of the ocean on his skin, is maddening. A hot, shaky breath hits your shoulder when you lick his neck, fingertips sinking deeper into your flesh. 

The promise of food wasn’t enough to separate the two of you, but the smell of food wrenches you apart, forcing you to join the circle of your friends eating burgers and hot dogs and chips. 

And even as you sit cross-legged, laughing and talking with everyone else, Jake’s hand rests on your thigh, and your hand rests on top of his. At least until it’s actually time to eat, and he splits his burger in two while you do the same with your hot dog, giving each other the bigger half—you don’t even have to check to know he’s taken the pickles out. With your thumb, you wipe ketchup from the side of his mouth and he adjusts the cup of your bikini and both of you giggle at the fuss your friends make about it.

Once everyone’s done eating, Jake volunteers the two of you to take away all the rubbish, stuffing carrier bags with styrofoam containers and wooden cutlery and empty cans. He carries everything over to the bins and you do all the sorting before rejoining your friends hand in hand. By the time you reach them, they’re all scattered, split off by activity—napping, drinking, and reading. With you two back, another activity starts: planning. “Are you free tomorrow, darling?” Jake asks, his arm heavy around your shoulders.

“Yes, Jakey.” 

A smile plays at the corner of his lips and he nods his head, but he keeps his gaze locked on the shore no matter how long you stare at him. “Same,” he says.

“Cool,” you say, grinning. 

Red scatters slowly over his ears and neck, nipping his cheeks as they lift with his smile and finally, he looks at you. Eyes wide and golden in the sun, brown hair blackened and slicked back with seawater save for one stubborn strand over his forehead. He looks like a prince and your heart stutters in your chest at the thought. 

“Well… since we’re both free tomorrow, how about I take you out, Yongie?” 

“Like, on a date?” you ask, covering your mouth with your hand for fear of screaming at the top of your lungs. 

Jake chuckles, taking your wrist in his hand and tugging it down. “Yeah, gorgeous, exactly like a date. Just you and me.”

Heat overtakes you, flooding your cheeks and your neck and swirling in your stomach, an endless stir all throughout your body like a shaken can of fizzy juice. “Yes, please,” you say, but it’s more of a squeak.  

“You’re so cute,” Jake says under his breath, pulling you close to kiss your temple. “I’ll pick you up at eight, alright?”

And even though you’re staying in the same house, you nod and tell him, “I’ll be ready at seven. I’m ready now.” 

As he said he would, at eight p.m. sharp, Jake knocks on the door of the bedroom you share to pick you up. And as you said you would be, you were ready at seven. 

In the external sense at least, because you’ve spent an hour admiring your reflection and taking pictures in the short white linen dress that the girls picked out for you. On the inside, you feel about as relaxed as a fish out of water, your stomach and its contents flipping and flopping. It’s just a shame he arrived before you thought to repack your suitcase or alphabetise your bodycare on the sink. But none of that matters in the end, because when you open the door and see Jake standing behind it, smiling, you can’t even remember what you were so worked up about. 

“H—” His eyes widen, looking you up and down and down and up before he clears his throat and he tries again. “You look so beautiful, Yongie.”

“So do you.” 

The giggle that he lets out is contagious, passed between your mouths in a kiss that lasts too long. Taking your hand, he leads you through the suspiciously quiet house, hardly a trace of your friends at all as you step out into the garden, going all the way to the back behind the shed. Jake climbs the stile in the fence first, then helps you over with his hands on your waist. On steady ground, you don’t pass up the opportunity to press a kiss to his soft lips. 

“I love this dress,” he tells you. “My. Beautiful. Girl.”

Despite the grin on your face, still you keep your mouth on his. “Always. All. Yours.” 

“Lucky, lucky me,” Jake says through a smile, giving you a peck and then another before pulling you through the clearing and out to the beach. 

Generous perhaps, to call it a beach, this little private strip that’s more giant slabs of glittering rock than sand along the shore where you all used to skinny dip until a rogue jellyfish stung Jay’s ass. A smile splits your lips at the memories, a happy warmth in your chest that only heightens and spreads at the nod of Jake’s head towards something behind you. On the rock furthest from the water, is a cosy-looking nest of blankets and cushions, lined at the outer edge with fairy lights, and a wicker basket in the middle of it all. 

“You like it, Yongie?” he asks, a sheepish look in his curious eyes. 

“Jake…” You trail off, unable to find the words to express how much you love it. How much you love him. 

Behind him, the tide rushes against the rocks, a constant crash that rivals the thud of your heart, darkening the slabs and making them glossy. In your silence, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, scrunching his nose. “I know it’s not much, but I didn’t want to wait until we got home to treat you.” His voice is but a murmur over the ocean, and still your stomach sinks.

“Are you joking? Jake, no one’s ever do—” Realising how wrong you are, you have to stop mid-sentence, because someone has done something like this for you before, because Jake is always doing things like this for you. Always going out of his way to show you he cares, to make you happy. “It’s perfect,” you say. “It’s absolutely perfect.” 

Together on the blanket, Jake lets you open up the basket, beaming as you fawn over the crisps and dip he picked out, the nice cocktail cans and yogurt-covered pretzels, the banana chips. And a delighted laugh comes out of him when you lose your mind at the sight of a clear container with honeydew feta salad inside, chili crisp tickling your nose as soon as you take the lid off. “Look how thin you sliced the cucumbers!” you all but squeal.

Jake, who only ever slices his cucumbers in thick strips, is blushing, beautiful red breaking through his smiling cheeks. “Jay helped a little bit with that, but it was mostly me once I got the hang of it.” 

Fuelled by love and hunger and a quick kiss, you continue through the basket. Japchae, tinfoil wrapped ham & cheese toasties, and perfectly pinched dumplings. Raspberries dipped in dark chocolate, and a foggy tub of pork belly. It’s more food than you’re sure you can eat, but you’re happy to try. Apart from what he’d obviously picked up, it’s clear he made it all himself — with maybe some help — and all for you. 

Your giggles are instantaneous, light and giddy, as Jake joins in. “So this is why I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen all afternoon?” 

He nods. “Worth it?”

“More than,” you whisper, liking the pleased smile on his lips. Looking into the basket once more, you find a heap of shiny gold foil beaming up at you. “Holy shit,” you manage through a laugh. 

“What, baby?” 

Like a magic trick, when you grab the first condom, an endless string of them follows from the depths of the basket and you can’t stop laughing, genuinely having to fight for breath. “I was wondering what we were gonna have for dessert.”

Jake doesn’t share in your amusement though, his face falling as he snatches them like they might hurt you, and says, “I didn’t put those in there!”

“Are you sure?” 

“I swear.” 

Even though you believe him, you can sense the evening taking a turn towards how-to-kiss-gate and nip it in the bud immediately, giving him a big hug and assuring him that you know he wouldn’t do that, all while stifling your laughter and stroking his hair. 

With Jake’s mood all taken care of, it’s time to tuck in and the food he prepared is just as good as it looks. The japchae light and the pork belly tender, sweet salad with a perfect kick. You can’t help but moan around each bite, around his fingers when he feeds you raspberries, constantly losing track of the conversation as it goes. Patient as ever, Jake only repeats himself or reminds you gently, accepting your apologies with a smile, seeming happy just to be here. Just to be with you. As the heat of the sunshine wanes, so too does your hunger. Having tried everything, you at least feel satisfied when you tap out, pushing your plate towards him. He’s not faring much better than you are, though he does finish off your pork belly. The more time you spend out here, the more you notice how lost he gets in the quiet, frozen in place, staring into the distance. 

All it takes to steal his attention from the glimmering shoreline is you squeezing his knee, gaze finding yours, lips curling into a dizzying smile. A lingering peck pressed to your lips, your cheek, and then, “Can we talk about something?”

“Mhm.”

Looking down at his lap, Jake clears his throat and says, “I know a lot has changed between us since your birthday, but in my opinion it’s all been good. What do you think?” It’s only when he’s finished speaking that he looks at you.

“It’s different, but it feels right,” you admit, mirroring the grin that spreads on his lips. “I’m happy, Jake. You make me happy.” 

Seeming a bit more sure of himself, he nods, locking his fingers with yours, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. “I’m the same, I mean you’re exactly what I want, Yongie. You’re who I want. You always have been, and you make me so… I just get so excited when it comes to you, even if I read your name somewhere or I hear it, my heart beats out of my chest.” 

As he says the words, your heart does exactly that, beating so fast and so hard you can hear it in your ears, feel it in your throat. You can’t believe this is happening, that any of this has happened over the past few days, that tomorrow, when you wake up in the morning, it’ll be to pack your bags and go home. 

“And I feel really sorry that you had to hear it from someone else first, but I love you, YN. I love you so much. I wanna do everything with you, and more than anything, I’d like to be your boyfriend,” Jake admits, only taking a beat to breathe at the end. “Is that… would you like that as well?” 

Fuzzy warmth finds a home in your chest, blooming and spreading and forcing giggles out of you. Nodding your head, it’s all you can do to hope he can read your mind like he always has. More than anything, Jake, you think. You’re all I want. Like a penny to a magnet, your lips find his, drawn in over and over and over again. You can’t even help it. Can’t help but hold his face in your hands. Can’t help but say, “I. Love. You.” Hardly noticing you’ve been kissing for so long until your knees start to ache against the blanket. 

You pull away and don’t wipe your lip gloss from his smiling face. 

Once the two of you manage to stop giggling and kissing and lingering and kissing again, packing up the picnic is an easy task. You hand empty containers to Jake who places them neatly in the basket, same with your cutlery and cans and wrappers.

It really doesn’t take long at all and with pursed lips, he latches the basket shut, patting the top and staring out at the shore before saying in a quiet voice, “I really am sorry about the condoms, Yongie. I’m sure it was just one of the guys trying to be funny or something.”

“I know, I know, and I thought it was funny, baby, it is funny. We’ll just take them back to our room and see how many we can use tonight,” you suggest, already looking forward to later, hoping that he’s looking forward to it too, though his expression betrays nothing.

Jake’s eyes flick over your face and he finally smiles, a slow, lopsided, butterfly inducing curve of his lips as he takes your locket in his hand, pulling you closer for a quick kiss. “Lower your expectations, my love. Promise you’ll be happy even if we only use two?”

Your stomach does a swoop at that, my love. “I’d be happy even if we didn’t use any,” you tell him, breathless. 

“That would kill me, YN, alright? I’m serious,” he says, with a great big grin on his face.

“Well, we’re dying on the same day, remember? Might not be too bad.”

Even though he chuckles, he rolls his eyes, seeming to give in. “Whatever then, have it your way.”

You hum, shaking your head as you push Jake’s hair from his face to get a good look at him. At his freckled nose and lopsided smile. “Obviously if you want to use a condom we’ll use one, Jakey. Or two just like you said.”

“I don’t,” he admits, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

A smile curls your lips and a flutter stirs your stomach. “Not before the sun goes down, I want to see it.”

“Sounds good, love. Later then.” And with the matter settled, he kisses your forehead. Then the tip of your nose, then your lips. Unlike the first two though, this kiss is lingering. This kiss is the press of bodies against one another, thighs and hips and chests and lips. It’s Jake’s soft hair between your fingers, his big hands slipping to your waist, holding you as tightly as possible. Like this, you kiss and you kiss and you kiss, separating only for the time it takes to tug his T-shirt up and over his head—all plans of watching the sunset long forgotten.

Still attached at the mouths, Jake lays you down on the blanket, his palm clutching your hip through your dress as he settles between your thighs. A lick of molten need consumes you at the weight of his body on yours, at the closeness of his lean frame. How you’re connected everywhere it matters. Damp press of sweat-slick skin on linen. Grind of rough denim on soft lace. Tug of hair between fingers and warmth of whimpers passed from his mouth to yours and right back. 

Wet kiss after wet kiss from neck to collarbone, shallow breaths warm your skin from collarbone to heaving chest, tearing a desperate sound out of you. Teeth on linen, tugging at the neckline of your dress, trembling hands coming up to help, to pull it down and hook it underneath your bare breasts.

Jake pulls away and it’s like seeing God, your breath hitching at the sight of him, at how the setting sun filters through his hair, catching him at the edges so that he glows. His chest rises and falls heavily as he looks down at you, his eyes blown and latching onto your breasts, inching slowly upwards along the shiny saliva path he’s left behind. From his swollen lips, the word, God, falls, a gravelly sound, ragged like it came from the depths of him, enough to make you shiver. He lets his palm roam the length of your body, over your stomach and up between your breasts until his long fingers slip over your shoulder to straighten your locket on its chain. 

“Oh my fucking God,” he says, eyes tracking the same path before they flick up to meet yours. “You’re so…” He shakes his head. “So, so beautiful.”

Causing this reaction, being the one to get to him this much, and seeing it, is a rush unlike anything else you’ve ever experienced. In this state, this stupor, you could probably ask him to do anything, tell him, and he would, and only on the basis that it came from you. Inexplicable heat pools between your legs at the mere thought.

“Thanks.”

An unbearable beat passes, scored by the whisper of the breeze and the kiss of tide against rock, before Jake wets his lips and says, “What’d you say, gorgeous?”

“You want them in your mouth, don’t you?” Your wavering voice betrays your nerves, but if he notices, he doesn’t seem to care. 

His pretty mouth falls ajar, wordless lips closing and opening again until he gulps, nods his head.

Spurred on by his level of engagement, his willingness and pliancy, there’s nothing you can do to stop your mind from running wild, alight with possibility, the future suddenly an exciting thing for as long as Jake is with you. It’s this, your certainty, your desire, that levels your voice when you speak. “Are you gonna be good and hurry up then?”

“Fuck,” he whispers before clearing his throat and speaking softer than you’ve ever heard. “Yes, love. Gonna be good for you, gonna be so good.” He’s already leaning in. 

Taking your nipple between his teeth, Jake has you gasping, has your back arching up towards him as his tongue flicks out over the sensitive skin to soothe it. A cry of his name, a huffed breath, a shudder at every tug, at every lick, at every moan he lets out around you. Caught up in the feel of it all — of his sweet mouth and muffled whines, of the knot tying itself in your stomach — you don’t even notice that his hand has left your other breast until his thick fingers press on the lace between your thighs.

Chasing it, the pressure, your hips buck, grinding until Jake curses under his breath and pulls away. To the chill of the air on your wet chest, you sigh, opening your eyes to the sight of your beautiful boyfriend kneeling between your spread thighs. Straight teeth dent plush bottom lip. Heavy eyelids blink slowly. Pink flush on his cheeks, his neck, spreading to his chest that heaves with his breath. Your toes curl against the blanket. He looks about as good as you feel—looks better. Unsticking the damp cotton, Jake pushes your underwear to the side so the breeze rushes against you, cool and overwhelming and drawing a gasp from your parted lips. 

His eyes fall as he spreads your wetness from your slit up to your clit and groans. “Love how wet you get for me, YN, always feel so good.”

Every last inch of your body responds to his touch, to him and the low sound of his voice, to the slow push of two thick fingers into you. Clamping together, your knees knock with a smack, thighs trapping Jake’s wrist where it is. The tension in your stomach is immediate, hot and heavy as he curls his fingers where they are, just brushing right where you need him to.

"Good, baby,” you manage, breathless. “Like that.”

Parting your knees, he pushes further and the sweet pressure sends a burst of blinding pleasure throughout your writhing body. A twist of the knot in your stomach, a moan torn out of you, stars behind your closed eyes at the sound of the smile in his voice. “Such a pretty girl, aren’t you? Don’t know how I got so lucky.”

As always, seeing Jake smile far surpasses hearing it, that broad curve, lips red and puffy around his perfect teeth. It takes your breath away to see him like this, to hear those words from him when it’s exactly how you feel—Jake, Jaeyun, your pretty boy, and you, Yongie, the luckiest girl in the world. Especially when you notice the way his other hand is tucked into his shorts, moving slowly under the denim. 

“I wanna see, Jake,” you say. “Take them off.”

Not a second goes by before he undoes his belt and button and fly with one hand to push his shorts down. On the front of his white briefs is a dark patch where his dick strains against the cotton, precum seeping through it. A pang of hunger strikes you, tongue wetting your lips as he thumbs at the damp spot and mutters, fuck, tugging the fabric out of the way. His leaking tip is shiny and red, same as his lips. Veins curve around the rest of him, leading your eyes down his twitching length to where his fingers are wrapped around the base, unmoving. 

“Should I…” Jake trails off. 

“Please.” You nod and without missing a beat, he spits into his palm and starts stroking. 

Save for the pretty way he whines and shudders, how his nose scrunches up and his muscles tense, there’s nothing particularly special about the way he jerks off. What’s mesmerising though, what really winds you up, is the fact that it’s Jake’s big hand on Jake’s big dick. That and the fact that he’s timing his strokes with the pump of his fingers into you. The fact that the wet sound between your legs is only getting louder and lewder. Feverish heat laps at your bucking hips, ravaging your body from the inside out.

“Don’t wanna—” you blurt out, taking a moment to catch your breath, to figure out what you’re trying to say. “I don’t wanna finish like this. Need it now. You.”

“Thank fuck.” He takes his fingers straight from inside of you to his mouth, humming around them. “So good,” he mumbles, shaking his head while your cheeks burn. “You’re so perfect, YN.”

Butterflies fill your stomach, tugging your lips up at the corners. If it were up to you, this moment would never end. Jake, apparently, has other ideas though, asking, “So are we using a condom or am I dying today?” 

His question takes a second to process, to make sense of over the pounding rush of blood in your ears. “The second one,” you whisper with a smile. “And I will miss you so, so much.”

A glorious smile curls his lips, a sweet chuckle coming out of him. “Not for too long, love.” He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your knee. “You sure though? Sounds silly, but you’re allowed to change your mind, YN.” 

“I know.” You can’t resist reaching for him, unsure if you can stomach another second without. Against your palm, his hair is soft between your fingers. Behind him, the sun’s last rays cling to the violet sky, streaking it orange. Something twists in your chest at the sight, at the sight of Jake’s brown eyes, shining like brilliant pools of amber. There’s nothing you’d change about any of this, let alone your mind. “I’m sure about this though,” you say, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “About you.”

Jake leans into your touch, lifting his head and kissing your palm when you cup his cheek. “Me too, Yongie. I’m certain.” That certainty is warm against your skin, muffled and earnest. “Forever,” he says and this is the moment you don’t want to end.

You can’t help but take his forever to heart, because it’s a promise he’s always kept. There isn’t much for you before Jake, your memories few and far between up until he moved to your school. “Yeah, Jaeyun. Forever,” you say, and when the words come out, you are absolutely certain that there won’t be much after him either.

The moment it finally happens, you’re kissing. That slow nudge of Jake into you, the complete shrinking of the world to that burning point of your connection, the melting of two bodies into one. His shallow thrusts deepen with each push and pull of his hips until he’s filling you all the way up over and over, further than you thought possible. Pressed to your chest, his heart races just as fast as yours, beating in perfect sync. Hungrily, Jake’s lips move over yours, but his hips still against you, buried to the hilt and staying completely flush—as if the kissing, the brushing of tongues and taste of you, is the point of it all.

I love you, he says, and you say, I love you, too. On a desperate, whiny loop, those three words spill from one mouth into another, back and forth for ages until you can’t tell if it’s him saying it or you. 

Until he finishes with a cry of your name, arms giving out so his full weight presses you down. Until you finish right after, shuddering and full and so in love.

As is tradition, you all spend this last morning together. Bright and early, the kitchen is alive at eight a.m., all ten of you moving sleepily around each other while Sunghoon’s lock in playlist blares through the house. After four summers of this, you’ve gotten it down to a science, so that no one is in anyone else’s way and nothing needs to be reheated. It takes forty-five minutes, but with all of the dishes on the garden table, everyone sits around it, ready to eat the breakfast you all helped to make. 

Your plate is about as full as can be, with Jay’s gamjajeon, Jimin’s buttered toast, Sunoo’s fried eggs, and Heeseung’s pork belly all warring for space on its surface. Exactly where he wants to be, Jake sits in your lap and his plate has your overflow—his Buldak carbonara, Yizhuo’s stir-fry, and your bacon. 

Nosey as ever, your friends barely allow you to have a bite before grilling you and Jake, desperate to know what happened at the beach to make you guys come back so…

“…Weird,” Yizhuo says. “If you hadn’t been holding hands I’d have thought you called it off.” 

Around gulps of Aeri’s coffee and spoonfuls of Sunghoon’s assorted cereal, everyone nods and mumbles their agreement. Now that everyone knows about your reciprocated feelings — now that you and Jake know — it seems your friends would prefer one big debrief rather than you with the girls and him with boys. Most of the time, the morning after begins with a group FaceTime call, or a detailed rundown in the chat to catch each other up, so it’s not totally unusual to share everything with everyone at once, and of course, now that two members of the group have hooked up, the next natural step would be to tell the group together. This fact, and your knowledge of said fact, don’t make it any easier for you to find words that accurately convey the genuinely life-changing sex you had last night. How afterwards, you undressed each other reverently to fuck like animals in the shower. 

Seeming not to share your reservations, Jake has no trouble speaking. "We weren’t being weird,” he says through a yawn, even though you definitely were. “We were being in love, Yizhuo, you should try it.”

“Yes, but you’ve been in love for as long as we’ve known you, and we’ve never seen you like that.” Minjeong squints over the top of her sunglasses, pointing an accusatory spoon. “Obviously you fucked out there, but — and no offence — was it bad?”

Before you can leap to the defence of your and Jake’s sexual prowess or show them the video you took last night and ask, does it look bad? Aeri sighs, shaking her head. “They didn’t, I counted and all ninety condoms were in the basket, they didn’t even tear one from the strip.”

“Ninety? Aeri, we gave them eighty, you bought the boxes,” Sunoo says, smacking his forehead twice and going, “Stupid, stupid Jungwoo.” 

Around the table, laughter is immediate and as you wrap your arms around Jake’s waist to hold him closer, you can’t help but wish you had even one more night to spend together. Can’t help but wish you’d been even a tiny bit less in your head about him all weekend so you could’ve gotten the fullest out of this time with everyone. Only one person isn’t fighting for breath through their cackles, and it’s Aeri who only rolls her eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, because none of you have ever been with someone questionable.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she scoffs and points in your direction. “YN is literally dating Jake,” she says and everyone laughs again, even Jake, who you know is only pretending not to be irritated. 

After breakfast, it’s a heated game of rock, paper, scissors that leaves Aeri, Heeseung, Jimin, and Sunghoon on kitchen clean up duty while the rest of you are left to your own devices. Thankfully, you had the foresight to pack your suitcase, and then Jake’s, before breakfast, so all that’s left is kissing and triple-checking that you have everything you came with. 

It’s an hour before Minjeong calls up the stairs that it’s time to leave and you’re standing alone in the en-suite, staring at your reflection. Only five days have passed since you left home with the girls, but already you look so different, feel so different. A healthy glow kisses your tanned skin and the semi-permanent bikini straps on your shoulders. Your lips rest in a curve you can’t straighten out. And your locket sits under the star pendant on your chest. Jake’s locket, maybe, if the years he’s held onto it mean more than the days you’ve spent wearing it. Running your thumb over the tiny dragon, the metal is warm in your palm. Changed by the love of those you love — Jake, your friends, and the sun — you can only look forward to what might change next, knowing no matter what, you won’t have to go through it alone.

From the doorway, with his baseball cap backwards and glasses low on the bridge of his nose, Jake is already watching you. His small smile turns into a broad grin, showing all of his teeth as he lets out a happy sigh. Crossing the room to be in his arms is the absolute least you can do, sinking into his chest as he pulls you close. You tip your head back to press a kiss to the base of his neck, making him giggle. 

“You ready to go, darling?” 

You’re not ready to go, not really—you never are. Already, you want to relive the last few days, see them again with those same fresh eyes. See them with your knowing eyes and make the same decisions a million times over, because all of them have led you here, lead you to this. To Jake’s lips on yours. Regardless, you nod and say, “I am.”

In the middle of the driveway, warmed by the blazing sun, you hug all of your friends as though you’ll never see them again, as if you don’t share a flat with Minjeong, or won’t see everyone at Heeseung’s on Friday for movie night. For what it’s worth though, they all hug you the same way, with tight squeezes and mumbled I’ll miss yous and get home safes. 

Once you’ve hugged your way around the circle, you end up in Jake’s arms again, squealing when he lifts you up off your feet. His fingers grip your sides as tight as he can, warmth in your chest at the feeling and a smile on your face even as you try to wriggle free. But over your shoulder you hear the girls burst into laughter, hear Jimin cry out, no way! And there’s something to it, the disbelief in her voice, the sheer joy, that stands out to you, that tugs your heart in her direction, in theirs. You can’t ignore it, can’t ignore how much you hate the thought of having to hear about it from Minjeong at home later. 

“Would you mind if I went home with the girls instead?” you blurt out as soon as Jake sets you down on your feet.

The smile on his face doesn’t falter at all, it widens, his eyes searching yours. “That sounds like fun, Yongie. I guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah, Jake, see you later,” you say, and for the first time, the thought of being away from him doesn’t make you feel sick. 

© zreamy (2026), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let me know your thoughts !

“Mmmff, y’ taste so good, bunny.” Jake’s chill breath against your perky nipple sends a shiver down your spine, one hand fondling that same breast while his anchoring one rubs circles on your hip, easing his palm on your bare skin.

A whimper falls short from your lips, eyes fluttering while Sunghoon’s fingertips curl into the pillowy, throbbing spot that makes your toes clench and thighs spasm. “Hmm? Can’t talk? Your boyfriend’s complimenting ya, baby.”

The sound of your lewd, pussy squelches and the smacking of Jake’s lips nearly drown out Sunghoon’s words—you almost feel too humiliated to answer.

Your nipple gets caught in between Jake’s teeth as he gently bites it, dragging his canines along the sensitive peak. A gasp tangles in your throat, struggling to let out anything besides a choked breath.

Jake’s gaze stays locked on your reaction, chuckling as if it was his intention to halt your response completely. “C’mon, honey.. ‘M talking to you. Does that feel good?” Jake’s brows furrow as his tongue circles around your areola, the warm and slick muscle causing your nipple to be significantly more swollen than the neglected one.

“Y-yes—Jake! Oh, fuck..” Your back arches off the cushion, pussy clamping Sunghoon’s fingers with every stroke of his digits against your glazed, tender walls. “Tight one, aren’t ya.. This pussy’s sucking my fingers in,” Sunghoon murmurs, zeroing in on your facial expressions.

“Mmph, you’ll get used t’ it, just needs some dick.” Jake’s voice vibrates against your skin, fingertips massaging the plush of your breast before your cunt loses the overwhelming sensation it felt just a second ago. Sunghoon pulls his fingers out, all glossy with your slick, leaving your hole throbbing and wet in front of him.

God, your face was flushed out of sheer embarrassment—not even Jake left you feeling this vulnerable. “W-what?” Your ragged breaths begin to ease, but who said you didn’t hope to cum on his fingers?

In unison, Jake’s mouth latches off your tit, inching closer to your earlobe. “Y’ think he can fuck this pussy like y’ deserve, hm? Show him how messy she can get?” You nod frantically, willing to do anything just so he can obliterate your cunt again.

Sunghoon imitates your nod and frazzled expression, mocking you as he says, “What’s this? Do you always forget how to talk?” You swallow what feels like a ginormous lump, avoiding his gaze as a deep pink rises to the surface of your cheeks.

You felt both pairs of their eyes on you, the sensation of Jake’s thumb drawing circles into your hip barely distracting you before speaking on your behalf. “That mouth’s good f’ nothing anyways. She can only suck some dick, ‘s that right?” His thumb reaches to toy with your bottom lip, swiping it down until your bottom teeth peak through.

“Uh-huh..” you shudder, voice just above a decibel. You already feel something moist and hard rocking against your thigh, just to peer down and see that Jake’s precum is leaking through his boxers. “Look what y’ did, angel.. Now I need t’ fuck that pretty little mouth.”

Jake’s palm lands on your cheek, gently slapping it before pushing his thumb in your mouth and accumulating all your saliva. You wince, looking up at him as he kneels beside your head, lowering the fabric until his cock springs out, the oozing tip already nudging your lip.

Sunghoon frees his own shaft from his boxers, fully erect and flushing crimson—to say you weren’t infatuated with your boyfriend’s friend’s dick was a lie. Saliva almost dripped from your mouth at the sight, the prominent veins seeming like they’d caress your creamy walls perfectly.

Sunghoon hardly dips his thumb past your folds, gathering your wetness that he produced through his fingers before bringing it up to his lips and licking the glaze. “Shit, she’s sweet.. Might have to eat her next time.”

Jake peers back at Sunghoon. “Did y’ say something?”

Sunghoon shakes his head before aligning his head with your entrance, pushing inside in one swift motion as Jake’s cock already found its home in your mouth. You gasp around his shaft at the abrupt discomfort, your folds struggling to accommodate Sunghoon’s girth.

You flinch as his hips move back and fourth, lips stretching around Jake’s cock, his tip nearly sliding down your throat. “Loosen up, slut.” Sunghoon groans at your tautness, digging his nails into your thighs as he presses them closer to your chest.

“G-give her a—ah.. Second,” Jake defends, thrusting his hips in your mouth, completely intoxicated by the sensation of your warm mouth taking him. You gag around his shaft, fighting between moaning at the feeling of Sunghoon destroying your pussy or suppressing your slurps and choking.

A few more strokes in, and the discomfort indeed turned into pleasure. Your snug and supple walls envelop Sunghoon’s cock, quickly beginning to spasm from your previous, suspended orgasm.

“Hah.. all you needed was some dick, huh? Nasty bitch,” Sunghoon falters, hips smacking against yours. To an extent, you were nasty, but this wasn’t your idea!

Jake repeatedly hits the back of your throat, prompting your gags to be the most evident sound in the room, followed by skin slapping while tears drip down the sides of your face.

“N-nmmghf! Gunf cufm!” Any and every word you managed was muffled by Jake’s cock.

“What’s that, honey? I can’t hear you.” Jake looks down at you with a conceited grin, feasting on the view of you being a dirty mess—mascara-smudged tears trickling down your face, faint bruises left on the breast he sucked, gagging on his cock while being wrecked by his best friend.

You sob in response, walls spasming around Sunghoon as you go tunnel vision. “Dumb fuckin’ girl.. All she can think about is being stuffed until she’s a mess,” Sunghoon murmurs, hissing when he feels his tip throbbing inside you.

“Isn’t that right, baby? Y’ just a little slut for us to fuck?” Jake mocks, your cry echoing through his shaft as you promptly finish, limbs trembling as the boys follow after.

A cumshow would be the proper word for it. Jake’s hips stutter as his hot load shoots down your throat, cock throttling against your tongue as your juices gush onto the sheets, followed by the loss of fullness as Sunghoon pulls out and spills himself on your stomach.

You loved being used by your boyfriend and his best friend.. Probably more than you should.

Exhibit A: Him wiping sauce from your mouth.

“Here, baby.. You got somethin’.” Jake’s thumb swipes the lush, savoury sauce from the burger you were eating off your mouth. You felt every little ridge from the texture of his hands as it smeared over your pillowy lips.

They gently parted as he finished, breaths turning shallow, and your thighs pressing together in a silent frenzy. “There y’ go,” he smiles, licking the sauce off his own finger. You struggled to bring the burger up to your mouth again, going tunnel vision as you wished he’d push his thumb past your lips, letting you suck the condiment off his own—

“Y’ not hungry anymore, baby?”

Oh, right. Even food couldn’t wash away the dirty whim in your brain.

Exhibit B: Him applying lip balm for you.

“Can you put that on for me, baby? My hands are all dirty.” Your head pointed towards the small tub of lip product on the table, signaling Jake to apply it for you.

He complies in a blink, twisting it open and using his index finger to pick up a small amount. There’s a fine gap between your lips as his finger lands on them, coating your bottom, top, and the corner of your lips with product.

The tip of his finger accidentally nudged your limp tongue when he worked on your bottom lip, mumbling a small apology before his digit left your mouth. You lost all semblance of reality, but a part of you hoped that he’d let you swirl your tongue over his index finger, savouring the taste of his skin and your cherry-flavoured balm until the pad of his finger would press down on your tongue, causing drool to slip—

“Baby? ‘S that all you wanted?”

You nod, shooing him off as you swallow, the dryness in your throat making it uncomfortable.

That said, you’ve had all these occurrences where you (horribly) fail to conceal your primal desire for Jake’s fingers in your mouth.. And you expect him not to act on it when he has every chance to give you what you need?

“M-mmphhf.. Fuck, Jake!” Your sharp cry echoes through the shared bedroom as your back digs into the mattress, thighs hiked up to your chest as your boyfriend’s cock persistently glides into your sopping cunt.

One of his hands is glued to the underside of your thigh, fingertips pressing into your plush, his free hand occasionally smacking your clit. Crimson rushes to the surface of your face as Jake throws his head back, adams apple prodding through his throat as he basks in the snug, warm, and silken feeling of your walls around his cock. 

“Yeah.. This pussy takes me just like it should, ‘s that right?” Your response is nothing but a string of whimpers before another slap strikes your clit, prompting your body to shiver and your pussy to clamp tighter. “Ah—Yes!”

You gently jolt with every drive of his hips, vision becoming constricted as each nudge of his tip against your g-spot teeters you closer to your climax. Jake takes a mental note of your pulsing heat and accumulated slick on the base of his shaft, sensing that you’re close. What better way to reward your orgasm with his fingers in your mouth?

It clicked in his head like a switch. His hand reaches toward your face, placing his thumb on your bottom lip and pressing on the softness while simultaneously wrecking your poor cunt. “Y’ gonna suck on m’ fingers like a good girl, yeah?” You nod like a puppy reacting to a treat—lord, was it humiliating.

Plap! Another smack to your red, puffy clit. “Words, baby.” You wince at the abrupt sting, moans getting caught in your throat as Jake barely slows his pace, continuously plunging his cock into you as gushy, obscene sounds fill the air.

“Y-yeah..” you manage, parting your lips wider for the insertion of his fingers. To say you’ve been waiting for this moment was an understatement.

“There ya go,” he coos, before stuffing his index and middle finger in your mouth. Your lower stomach rumbles with a fuzzy warmth you’ve yet to feel, and suddenly, the slight discomfort of his cock splitting you open withdrew.

Your tongue slowly licks along his digits, gently bobbing your head up with every suck as you’re obligated to breathe through your nose. “Yeah, that’s it.. Keep sucking them jus’ like that.”

Your eyes bat before closing, his fingers coated with your saliva as his anchoring hand rubs your clit. “Mpphgf,” you whimper, thighs twitching as you’re brought impossibly closer to your release. “Keep suckin’, come on.”

Saliva drips from your chin as you continue slobbering on his fingers, eyebrows furrowing as his thumb bullies your overstimulated bud. “God, aren’t you fuckin’ beautiful?—Suckin’ on my f-fingers.. like—Fuck!” Before he’s even done praising you, his hot ropes of cum shoot inside you, coating your walls with his seed.

You simultaneously cum, whining around his digits before your sucking comes to a halt.

He pulls his cock out of your cunt, alongside his fingers before using them to collect the mixed fluids oozing from your hole. His fingers look disgustingly gorgeous—all slick from your saliva, his pads trickling with cum.

He brings them up to his lips before inserting them in his mouth, savouring the salty fluids coating his tongue. “Tastes s’ good angel.. You wan’ me to use my fingers more often?” The sight alone could’ve brought you to your second orgasm, but part of you wishes that he put them in your mouth instead.

You nod, hoping that next time, you can be rewarded with the combined flavours of your juices on his fingers!

you drop your bag by the door and pad down the hallway in socks. the door to his streaming room is cracked open. you peek in.

he’s focused. completely in the zone. one hand on the mouse, the other occasionally lifting his energy drink. chat is flying by on the second monitor. he laughs at something someone typed and leans closer to the mic.

“chat, i swear if one more of you tells me to touch grass—”

you slip inside without a sound and gently shut the door behind you. the click is soft enough that the mic doesn’t pick it up. jake still hasn’t noticed.

you stand there for a second, just watching him. the way his throat moves when he swallows. the way his fingers flex on the mouse. he’s so deep in the stream he doesn’t even hear you cross the room.

you drop to your knees beside his chair.

jake glances down out of pure reflex — and freezes.

his eyes go wide. his mouth opens. for a split second pure panic flashes across his face before he forces his expression back to neutral, eyes snapping forward to the camera again.

you smile up at him, innocent as anything, and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants.

his voice stutters slightly on the next sentence.

“y—yeah, no, i’m fine, chat. i just… thought i saw something.”

you tug his sweatpants and boxers down just enough. his cock is already half-hard from the sudden adrenaline, and it thickens the second your fingers wrap around it. jake’s free hand grips the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turn white.

you lean in and lick a slow stripe up the underside.

his hips twitch. a sharp inhale crackles through the mic before he covers it with a cough.

“sorry, chat — drink went down the wrong pipe.”

you take him into your mouth properly, warm and wet, sinking down until your lips meet your fist. jake’s thigh tenses under your palm. he’s still trying to talk, still clicking through the game, but his voice has gone tighter, lower.

“uh-huh… yeah, i see that play. no, i’m not tilted—”

you hollow your cheeks and suck.

jake’s sentence dies in his throat. he quickly hits the push-to-talk button off for a second, drops his voice to a rough whisper only you can hear:

“baby— fuck— are you serious right now?”

you just hum around him in answer, the vibration making his stomach jump. then you start bobbing your head in slow and deep movements, one hand stroking what you can’t fit, the other resting on his thigh so you can feel every time he tenses.

he turns the mic back on, forcing a laugh that sounds almost normal.

“chat’s being weird tonight, damn. why is everyone asking if i’m okay? i’m fine. totally fine.”

a donation alert goes off. someone tips a bigger amount than usual with the message: you good, jake? you keep spacing out lol

jake’s laugh is strained. “i’m good, i promise. just focused.”

you take him deeper, nose brushing the soft fabric of his hoodie, and swallow around the head of his cock. his free hand flies to your hair, not pushing, just holding, fingers trembling.

he’s leaking on your tongue now. you can taste how worked up he is. every time chat asks a question he has to answer, his voice cracks just a little. every time you drag your tongue along the vein on the underside, his hips stutter like he wants to thrust up into your mouth but can’t without the chair moving on camera.

“yeah, no, i’m not leaving the stream early,” he says, clearly answering someone. “why would i—”

you pull off just long enough to whisper, “because you’re about to come down my throat on live.”

jake’s eyes squeeze shut for half a second. when he opens them again they’re dark, desperate, still locked on the monitor like his life depends on it.

you go back down, faster now, wetter, the slick sounds mostly drowned out by his game audio and the music he keeps playing in the background. still, every so often a filthy little noise slips out of him before he can stop it.

chat is starting to notice something’s off.

mjno1fan: jake’s face is so red lmao bro is breathing like he just ran a marathon is he okay?? someone check on him lol

jake forces another laugh, voice rough. “you guys are reading into nothing. i’m just warm. the hoodie, you know? but i'm too lazy to take it off.”

you take him all the way to the base and swallow again.

his whole body locks up.

he slams the mute button on his mic, drops his head forward, and comes with a quiet, broken groan, pulsing hot across your tongue. you stay there and take every bit of it, swallowing around him until he’s finished, thighs shaking under your hands.

when he finally mutes off and turns the mic back on, his voice is wrecked in a way he tries (and fails) to hide.

“…anyway. i think i’m gonna wrap it up soon, chat. i'm feeling kinda tired all of a sudden, must've been that soda i had earlier.”

there’s a flood of laughing emojis and suspicious messages. jake doesn’t even try to read them. he just ends the stream as quickly as he can without looking completely unhinged, waits until the “stream ended” screen pops up, then rips his headset off and looks down at you still on your knees between his legs.

you sit back on your heels, wipe the corner of your mouth with your thumb, and smile up at him like nothing happened.

jake stares at you for a long second, chest still heaving.

then he laughs, low and disbelieving, and hauls you up into his lap, kissing you hard and messy, tasting himself on your tongue.

“you’re insane,” he mutters against your mouth. “completely insane. i almost died. chat thought i was having a medical emergency.”

you loop your arms around his neck, still smiling. “you didn’t end the stream though.”

“because i couldn’t think straight enough to press the button,” he shoots back, already half-hard again against your thigh. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you kiss the corner of his mouth. “so… same time tomorrow?”

jake groans, drops his forehead to your shoulder, and starts laughing again — helpless, fond, and still a little ruined.

“we’re going to get caught one day,” he says.

you just hum, fingers sliding back into his hair.

“maybe. but not tonight.”

© jongst4r, 2026

You met in the library every Tuesday afternoon. Same table, same corner, same routine. You were already there when he walked in, and you felt that familiar flutter in your chest.

He dropped his bag on the floor, and you watched him settle into the chair across from you. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his hands through it. He looked tired but happy, that easy smile already on his face.

"Professor let us out early," he said, grinning.

"Lucky you."

"Lucky us." He leaned forward. "Now I get to spend extra time with my favorite person."

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed. The usual performance.

"Your favorite person? What about Heeseung?"

"Heeseung doesn't bring me cookies."

"You only like me for my baking."

"And your cute personality." He grinned.

You laughed softly, the soft, sweet laugh you'd perfected. It made people think you were shy and made them want to protect you.

Jake fell for it every single time.

"You're studying already?" He peered at your notes. "Midterms aren't for another week."

"I like to be prepared."

"You're going to get a perfect score. You always do."

"It's not about perfect scores." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's about understanding the material."

He chuckled then his eyes lingered on you for a moment too long. "Hey, are you free this weekend? The boys are having a party, nothing crazy. Just people."

You tilted your head. "People?"

"Okay, lots of people. But it's at Jay's place, so it'll be chill. Well, as chill as Jay's place gets."

You considered it. You'd been to a handful of parties with Jake before, and you'd spent the night in the corner, sipping water and smiling politely while his friends tried to talk to you.

"Maybe," you said. "I'll think about it."

"Don't think too hard." He grinned. "You might hurt yourself."

You swatted his arm. He laughed.

And you watched the way his eyes crinkled, the way his whole face lit up and you thought about how easy it would be to tell him the truth.

But you didn't. Because whatever this was, was too much fun.

The party at Jay's house was on a Saturday night.

You wore something soft and innocent. A pale pink loose top that fell off one shoulder, jean skirts that were just tight enough to be cute but not too tight. Your hair was down, and you'd put on just enough makeup to look like you weren't wearing any.

You fitted the image of the innocent sweetheart so perfectly but deep down you were a girl who was anything but innocent.

The house was packed when you arrived. Music vibrated through the walls, and the smell of cheap beer and drunk students filled the place. You pushed through the crowd, smiling politely at people who recognized you, nodding at the ones who called out your name.

Y/N! Hey! You made it!

The sweetheart is here!

Where's your boyfriend?

You laughed at that one. Soft and shy. "Jake's not my boyfriend. We're just friends."

"Sure," the guy said, winking. "Whatever you say pretty."

You found Jake in the kitchen, surrounded by his friends. His head was thrown back laughing at something, his whole body relaxed in a way it never was around you. Around you he was careful and gentle. Like you might break.

It used to make you feel special. Now it just made you want to scream.

"Y/N!" He spotted you and crossed the room in quick strides. "You came."

"Told you I would." You smiled up at him. "You look nice."

He always did but tonight he'd made an effort dark baggy jeans, a fitted white shirt, his hair pushed back from his forehead. He also looked like he'd been drinking.

"You look nice too," he said. "You always look nice. But like. Tonight. You look really-" He stopped himself, clearing his throat. "Do you want a drink?"

"Water's fine."

"Of course it is." He grinned, reaching into the fridge. "Water for the sweetheart."

You watched him, your expression soft and eyes wide. The perfect picture of innocence. Jake's hand found the small of your back, a warm, possessive weight as he introduced you to yet another friend whose name you'd forget in seconds. You smiled, demure, your fingers curled around a glass of water that had long gone warm. You were the perfect picture of sweetness, his sweetheart, the girl who sipped water at a party full of cheap beer and bad decisions.

"I'm gonna grab another round with the guys," Jake leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "You okay here?"

You nodded, your lashes fluttering. "I'm fine. I think I'm going to find the bathroom."

He kissed your temple, a soft gesture that made something in your chest tighten, though you weren't sure if it was guilt or amusement. "Don't wander off too far."

You gave him a delicate smile, the kind that made him melt and slipped through the crowd. The hallway to the bathroom was darker, the music muffled by the walls. You pushed the door open, but before you could step inside, a hand shot out, caging you against the wall.

"Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart."

Your heart didn't jump. You knew that voice, the voice that had haunted a handful of late nights a couple weeks ago.

Jeno. A knowing smirk curling his lips as he looked down at you. He was taller than you remembered, or maybe you just forgot how he towered.

"Jeno." You let his name roll off your tongue. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, probably." His eyes dipped down, tracing the short of your skirt and the way your chest rose and fell. "Looking for trouble."

You laughed, a soft breathy sound that wasn't quite innocent. "I'm not looking for anything."

"No?" He stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing yours. He tilted his head, his gaze sharp. "Does he know what you look like when you're not playing the part?"

A shiver ran down your spine and he saw it. The way your breath hitched and he laughed. His hand slid to your waist, fingers digging into the soft curve of your hip.

"Been thinkin about you," he murmured, his mouth trailing down the column of your neck. "Thinking about that night. You remember?"

"Which one?" you whispered, your voice dipping into something husky, something that wasn't the sweet, water drinking girl Jake thought he knew. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Fucking brat." He nipped at your collarbone and you arched into him, a soft, approving hum escaping your lips.

You let him push you a little farther into the shadows, let his hands wander, let his mouth find yours. It was all heat and teeth and a quiet desperation. His tongue swept against your lower lip, and you bit down, just hard enough to make him groan.

"Still a menace," he breathed, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

You licked your lips, tasting him, tasting the lie you were about to tell. "Maybe," you said, tilting your head, all innocence and invitation. "Catch me later."

He grinned, a flash of white in the dim light. "Count on it."

And then he was gone back into the party, leaving you pressed against the wall, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You took a moment to compose yourself. You smoothed your skirt, ran your fingers through your hair, and checked your reflection in the tiny, cracked mirror by the bathroom door. Your eyes were bright, your lips a little swollen, your cheeks flushed.

You walked back to the living room, weaving through the crowd until you found Jake. When he saw you, his whole face softened.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours.

You leaned into him, letting your body sag against his like you were exhausted and overwhelmed. You pressed your face into his shoulder, and you could feel the steady thud of his heartbeat, so steady so trusting.

"Just a lot," you murmured, your voice muffled. "Can we go? I think I need some air this party is a lot for me."

His hand came up to stroke your hair, gentle, so fucking gentle. "Of course. Let's get you out of here."

He said his goodbyes, slapping backs and shaking hands, his arm never leaving your waist. You walked out into the cool night air, and he opened the car door for you, his eyes soft with concern.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, buckling his seatbelt.

You looked at him, the streetlights casting shadows across his earnest face. You smiled, slow and sweet, and reached across to squeeze his hand.

"I am now," you said. "Let's go."

And as he pulled away from the curb, you let your head fall back against the headrest, your lips curling into a secret, satisfied smile.

The warm morning air hit you as you walked across campus, your bag slung over one shoulder, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Jake walked beside you, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, rambling about something his professor said that made no sense. You nodded along, making the right sounds of interest, your mind still half asleep.

Then you saw him.

Jeno was leaning against the brick wall near the exit, his arms crossed, that lazy smirk already in place. His eyes found you instantly, dark and knowing, and your step faltered for just a fraction of a second.

"Hey, sweetheart," he called out, pushing off the wall and walking toward you. "Been looking for you, as always."

Jake's brow furrowed. He glanced between you and Jeno, his posture straightening. "You know him?"

Before you could answer, Jeno was there, too close, his voice dropping low. "Where were you last night? I waited."

You felt your stomach flip. "I left early," you said, keeping your voice even and your eyes innocent. "I wasn't feeling well."

"Bullshit." Jeno laughed. "You weren't feeling well, or you were feeling too good? Because I remember you feeling pretty damn good when we were-"

"Back up," Jake cut in, stepping between you and Jeno. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, almost like a warning. "She said she wasn't feeling well. Take the hint."

Jeno's eyes flicked to Jake, assessing him. A slow grin spread across his face. "Oh, this is him? The best friend?" He looked past Jake, straight at you. "You didn't tell him, did you? About us?"

Your heart hammered, but you kept your face soft, confused. "There's nothing to tell. We talked a few times. That's all."

"Talked?" Jeno's laugh was louder this time. "Is that what we call it now? Because I remember your mouth being pretty busy for just talking."

Jake tensed, his jaw clenching. "What are you talking about?"

"Jake, ignore him," you said quickly, reaching for his arm. "He's just trying to cause trouble. He's always been like this."

Jeno's eyes narrowed. "Always been like this? Baby, you used to love the way I am." He stepped closer, ignoring Jake entirely. "You gonna pretend last night didn't happen too? Or the other nights when-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, your voice trembling just enough. You pressed closer to Jake, letting your fingers curl into his sleeve. "You're scaring me."

Jeno's smirk faltered. For a split second, something flickered in his eyes confusion, maybe even hurt. But then it was gone, replaced by cold amusement. "Right. Of course. You're so good at that, aren't you? Playing the victim."

"Get lost," Jake said, his voice hard. He stepped forward, putting himself fully between you and Jeno. "She said she doesn't know you. That's enough."

Jeno held up his hands, backing away slowly. His eyes never left yours. "Fine. But you can't run forever, sweetheart." He winked, a cruel, knowing gesture. "We both know you'll come back eventually."

He turned and walked away, hands in his pockets, whistling some tune.

Jake stood there for a moment, breathing hard. Then he turned to you, his expression softening, concern replacing the anger. "You okay? Did he hurt you?"

You shook your head, letting your eyes well up just a little. "I don't know why he's like that. We barely even talked. He just... he won't leave me alone."

"Hey, hey." Jake pulled you into a hug, his arms warm and solid around you. "It's okay. He's gone. I'm not gonna let him bother you."

You buried your face in his chest, letting out a shaky breath. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Always," he murmured into your hair. "Come on, let's get you to class."

You walked together, your hand in his, your steps slow and careful. Jake kept glancing at you, checking, making sure you were okay.

"Oh, by the way," he said, breaking the silence. "I'm going out with the boys for dinner tonight. But I was thinking after, I could come over? Watch the new Toy Story with you?"

You looked up at him, your smile soft and grateful. "I'd like that."

"Cool." He grinned, squeezing your hand. "I'll bring snacks. The good popcorn."

"My favorite," you said, your voice sweet as honey.

You walked into the building together, and Jake held the door for you, his gaze warm and trusting. You stepped past him, and for just a second, over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of Jeno across the quad. He was watching you still, arms crossed, that smirk firmly back in place.

You turned away, your smile never wavering. You let him watch. You knew exactly what you were doing.

The restaurant was buzzing, warm light spilling over the table where Jake sat with his friends. The whole crew, all of them crammed into a corner booth, drinks half empty.

Ni-ki was scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to the conversation, when he suddenly burst out laughing. Like, full on wheezing, slapping the table, tears forming in his eyes kind of laughing.

"Bro, what the hell?" Jay asked, reaching over to smack his arm. "You good?"

Ni-ki couldn't even speak. He just shoved his phone across the table, pointing at the screen. "Look. Look at this idiot."

Sunghoon grabbed it first, his eyebrows shooting up. Then he started laughing too, shaking his head. "Oh my god. Oh my GOD."

"What? What is it?" Sunoo leaned over, and within seconds, he was cackling, covering his mouth.

Heeseung took the phone, read whatever was on it, and let out a low whistle. "Damn. Jeno's down bad."

Jake frowned, setting down his beer. "What about Jeno?"

"Your girl's got that man whipped," Ni-ki said, still giggling. "Look."

He passed the phone to Jake. It was Jeno's Instagram story a photo of him looking all love sick, texting someone, with the caption: "She left me on read again. Should I double text? Asking for a friend (it's me, I'm the friend)."

Jake stared at it for a second, then let out a weird laugh. "Wait, you think he's talking about-"

"Bro, who else would it be?" Jay laughed, grabbing the phone back. "Your girl's got him wrapped around her finger. It's actually kinda sad. Look at him bro he's a mess."

"Okay, but that's crazy," Sunghoon said, scrolling through more of Jeno's story. "Like, look. He's posting thirst traps now, because she didn't reply."

Ni-ki was wheezing again. "Bro is on his hands and knees for her. Literally posted a black screen with 'come back' in the lyrics of some sad song."

"He's got it baaaad," Sunoo added, wiping his eyes.

Jake was quiet, but he was smiling, a little confused. "I mean... she's sweet, but she's not like... she's not that type of person to entertain him. He's such a fuck boy and well she's innocent, she's never even-"

"Wait, wait, wait." Jay held up a hand, choking on his drink. "Did you just say innocent?"

"Yeah?" Jake blinked. "She's shy. She's not into all that stuff. She told me-"

"Bro." Heeseung leaned forward, a grin spreading across his face. "Are you serious right now?"

"What do you mean?"

Ni-ki was still scrolling on his phone while laughing. "Okay, okay. Let me tell you something. Do you know Yeonjun? Basketball guy?"

"The star player? Yeah, I know him. What about him?"

"You know the championship game last semester? The one where he went crazy and dropped like 40 points?"

Jake nodded slowly.

Ni-ki was barely containing himself. "Apparently, your sweet, innocent girl gave him a little pre game 'motivation' in the locker room. If you know what I mean."

Jake stared at him. "What?"

"Like," Sunghoon made a gesture with his hand near his mouth, "you know. The good luck kind."

"Bullshit," Jake said immediately. "She would never."

"Oh, she would." Heeseung was laughing now too. "And she did. The whole team was talking about it. Walked out with her lipgloss smeared and everything. He played like a god that night."

"There's no way-" Jake started, but Jungwon cut him off.

"Okay, okay, but that's just the start. You guys heard about the threesome rumor, right?"

"The WHAT?" Jake's voice cracked.

Sunghoon was wheezing now. "Oh my god, yes I have. Bro, there was a rumor going around last year that she-"

"Okay, I don't think it was confirmed," Jay interrupted, still grinning. "But people were saying she had a thing with two guys from the soccer team. At the same time. In the equipment room."

"THAT'S NOT REAL." Jake's face was red now, his eyes wide. "That's literally not real. She wouldn't- she's not like that."

"She literally gave good luck head to a basketball player," Ni-ki said flatly. "In a locker room. Before a game. With other guys in there."

"I could've sworn she told me she was studying that night!" Jake yelled, throwing his hands up.

His friends all looked at each other for a second. Then they burst out laughing again.

"Bro..." Sunghoon shook his head, wiping tears from his eyes. "I hate to break it to you, but your girl is far from innocent."

"She's literally got Jeno begging and Jeno never begs," Heeseung added. "And you're over here thinking she's never been touched? She's been touched, man. By a lot of people probably."

"And you think she's shy," Sunghoon added, snickering. "She's got three different guys on the line and you think she's shy."

"That is crazy," Ni-ki laughed even more seeing Jeno post a picture of you and him cuddled up with a corny caption in attempts to get you back. "Bro is literally the backup option and he doesn't even know."

"I am not the backup option," Jake snapped. But even as he said it, his voice wavered.

They all stared at him for a second.

Then Heeseung lost it. "Oh my god. You are the backup option!"

"NAH, HE'S THE SAFETY NET," Jay shouted, cackling.

"The nice guy," Jungwon added. "The one who takes her to dinner and walks her to class while Jeno gets the late night texts."

"This is the funniest thing I've ever heard," Ni-ki wheezed, slamming his hand on the table. "Bro thought she was saving herself for him!"

"Guys, she literally has Jeno posting love songs for her at 1 AM," Sunghoon snorted. "And she's probably still responding to him. While you're over here playing Toy Story with her."

Jake's face was burning. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched under the table. "Okay. That's enough."

But they couldn't stop laughing.

"This is insane," Heeseung said, shaking his head. "You were out here thinking she's this innocent little angel while she's got damn near the whole campus on speed dial."

"I'm leaving," Jake muttered, pushing back from the table.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Ni-ki called after him. "Bro, don't be mad. It's just funny! She's got you both wrapped around her finger and you don't even know."

Jake grabbed his jacket, his face of embarrassment. "I'm not wrapped around anyone's finger."

"Sure you're not," Jay called after him, still laughing. "That's why you lend her your sweaters and she wears them while making out with Jeno!"

"SHUT UP!" Jake yelled back, but his friends just howled with laughter as he stormed out of the restaurant.

The cool night air hit his face. He stood there on the sidewalk, breathing hard, his phone feeling heavy in his pocket.

He pulled it out. Your message was still there, sitting pretty: "Can't wait to watch Toy Story with you tonight. You're the best <3"

He stared at it for a long moment.

And then, despite everything, despite all of it, he laughed. A dry, humorless, disbelieving laugh.

He was literally the backup option. The nice guy. The one you watched Disney movies with while you're out there doing all that.

He shoved his phone and started walking to your place despite his head and heart racing.

The door clicked shut behind Jake, and you were already there, all soft smiles and warm eyes, your hair falling in gentle waves around your shoulders. You were wearing one of his hoodies and you looked so sweet, so perfectly innocent, that something twisted painfully in his chest.

"Hey, you're early!" you said, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. "I was just getting the popcorn ready. Toy Story's all queued up."

He didn't hug you back. His hands stayed at his sides, stiff and unmoving.

You pulled back, your brow furrowing. "Jake? What's wrong? You seem off."

He walked past you into the living room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He stood there for a moment, staring at nothing.

"Jake, you're scaring me," you said softly, coming up behind him. "Talk to me."

He turned around slowly, his eyes searching your face. "My friends told me some things tonight."

"Okay?" You tilted your head, that perfect confused expression on your face. "What kind of things?"

"About you." His voice was tight. "About Jeno. About... a lot of stuff."

Your face didn't change. Not even a flicker. "Jake, I already told you. Jeno's obsessed with me. He's been spreading lies-"

"They weren't lies." His voice cracked. "They showed me his story. The picture of you. On top of him. Wearing my hoodie."

You went very still.

"They told me about Yeonjun too," he continued, his voice getting stronger, harder. "The basketball player. The locker room. Before the championship game." He laughed bitterly. "And I was sitting there telling them you were innocent. That you'd never been with anyone. That you were shy and sweet and-"

"Jake-"

"And then Sunghoon mentioned the soccer players," he cut in, his eyes burning. "The threesome rumor. And I didn't want to believe it. I thought they were messing with me.

You opened your mouth, but he kept going.

"They were laughing at me, you know. All of them. Because I was sitting there defending you like an idiot. Ni-ki was literally crying he was laughing so hard. Saying I was the backup option. The safety net. A nice guy who takes you to dinner and watches Disney movies while everyone else gets-" He stopped, his voice breaking.

Your face had gone pale, but you recovered quickly. You stepped closer, reaching for him.

"Jake, listen to me-"

"Why did you lie to me?" His voice was quiet now, raw. "Why did you make me believe you were someone you're not?"

"Because I was scared." you said, your voice trembling. "Jake, I was so scared. I knew what you thought of me. You looked at me like I was this... this pure, good person. And I wanted to be that for you. I wanted to be the girl you thought I was."

"But you weren't."

"I know, and I hated myself for it. Every time you looked at me with those eyes, like I was something special, I felt so guilty. Because I knew I didn't deserve it.

He stared at you, his expression unreadable.

"But I wasn't pretending about you," you continued, your voice breaking. "I wasn't pretending about how I feel. You're the only one who's ever made me feel like I mattered. Like I was worth something. All those other guys? They were nothing. They were distractions. But you-" You reached up and cupped his face. "You're everything, Jake. You're the only thing that's ever felt real."

He didn't pull away. He stood there, frozen, his heart warring with his head.

"I don't care about Jeno," you whispered, your thumb stroking his cheek. "I never cared about him. He was just someone to pass the time. But you? You're the one I think about when I can't sleep, the one I want to come home to. You're the one who actually sees me."

"I don't even know who you are anymore," he said, but his voice was weaker now.

"Yes, you do." You pressed closer, your bodies almost touching. "You know me better than anyone. You know I make bad choices because I don't think I deserve good things. But when I'm with you, I feel like maybe I could deserve them. Like maybe I could be better."

His hands came up, hesitantly, to rest on your waist.

"I was so scared you'd leave if you found out," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I couldn't handle that. I can't lose you, Jake. You're all I have."

He swallowed hard. "I don't know if I can trust you."

"Then let me prove it." You rose on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

He didn't respond at first. He just stood there, stiff and uncertain. But you didn't give up. You kissed him softly, gently, your fingers threading into his hair, your body pressing against his.

"Please," you murmured against his lips. "Please don't leave me. I can't- I can't do this without you."

"Baby..." His voice cracked.

"Let me make it better," you whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "Let me make you forget all of it. Everything they told you. Everything you saw. Just let me show you how much you mean to me."

"I don't know-"

"Shh." You pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't think just feel."

You kissed him again, deeper this time, your tongue tracing his lower lip. His hands tightened on your waist, and you felt the tension in his body start to ease.

"Jake," you breathed against his mouth. "I only want you. I've always only wanted you."

He let out a shaky breath. "You mean that?"

"I mean it with my whole heart." You pulled back, looking up at him with those big, wide eyes. "I know I messed up. I know I lied. But I'll spend as long as it takes making it up to you. Just please don't leave."

He was quiet for a long moment. Then slowly, his hands slid up your back pulling you closer.

"I'm so stupid," he muttered.

"No." You shook your head, pressing another kiss to his jaw. "You're not stupid. You're kind, and sweet. You're everything I don't deserve."

"Stop saying that."

"It's true." You kissed the corner of his mouth. "But I want to try. I want to be the girl you think I am."

He cupped your face in his hands, tilting your head up. His eyes searched yours, looking for something. Whatever he found, it must have been enough, because he let out a long shaky breath.

"God, I'm so whipped," he muttered.

You let out a soft laugh, pressing your forehead to his. "Good. Because I'm whipped for you too."

And then his mouth was on yours, hungry and desperate, all his doubts and fears melting away. You walked him backward until his knees hit the couch, and he fell back, pulling you down with him.

You straddled his lap, settling comfortably against him, your hands resting on his chest. His hands gripped your thighs, his breathing uneven.

"Let me make you forget," you whispered, leaning down to kiss his neck. "Let me be the only thing you think about."

"You already are," he breathed. "You always have been."

You smiled against his skin, your fingers working at the buttons of his top.

"Good," you murmured. "Then let me show you what you've been missing."

Jake's hands were already pressing into the warm skin of your waist. You could feel him hard beneath you, his breath coming faster as you grind down against him.

"You gonna take care of me?" he asked, voice rough, hands sliding up your back.

"Mmhm," you hummed against his neck, kissing a slow path up to his ear. "But you gotta tell me what you want. I don't know anything, Jake. You gotta show me."

He let out a breathy laugh, his fingers tangling in your hair. "You're so full of shit."

"Am I?" You pulled back, looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes. "I'm just a sweet innocent girl who never did anything with anyone. Remember? Never slept with Jeno, never gave Yeonjun good luck head, and never ever did I have a threesome. You told your friends that. You told everyone that."

His jaw tightened. He flipped you over so fast you gasped, your back hitting the couch, his body caging you in.

"You wanna play that game?" His voice dropped low, dangerous. "Fine. Let's play."

He yanked the hoodie up over your head, tossing it aside. Your chest was bare underneath, and his eyes darkened immediately.

"Look at you," he muttered, his thumb brushing over your nipple. "You been hiding these under my hoodie this whole time?"

You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. "Jake..."

"Shh." He leaned down, his mouth hovering over your nipple. "I'm showing you, remember? Since you don't know anything."

His tongue circled your nipple slowly, teasingly, before he took it into his mouth and sucked hard. You cried out, your fingers gripping and tugging his hair.

"Fuck," he breathed, pulling back to look at the wet mess he made all over your chest. "So perfect. I've been thinking about these for months. Dreaming about them. And you just let me walk around like an idiot while you were letting everyone else-"

"Jake, please-"

"Please what?" He pinched your other nipple, rolling it between his fingers. "Please stop? Please keep going? Use your words, baby. Since you're so innocent."

You whimpered, squirming beneath him. "Please don't stop. Please touch me."

"That's more like it." He lowered his head again, switching sides, his mouth hot. His hand traveled down your stomach, slipping past the waistband of your shorts.

"So wet," he murmured against your skin. "For someone who doesn't know anything, you're pretty good at soaking through your panties."

His fingers found your clit, circling slowly, and you bucked against his hand.

"That's it," he coaxed. "Show me what you like."

You rolled your hips, chasing his fingers, your head thrown back. "More, Jake. Please. I need-"

"You need what?"

"You. I need you inside me. Please."

He pulled his hand away, and you whined at the loss. But then he was standing, pulling you up with him, his eyes dark and hungry.

"Bedroom. Now."

You stumbled down the hall, his hand on your ass, pushing you forward. The second you reached the bed, he had you face down on the mattress, your shorts and panties ripped down your legs.

"Look at that," he breathed, his palm smoothing over your ass. "All mine. You know how long I've wanted this? How many nights I've laid awake thinking about bending you over."

He smacked your ass hard, and you cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure jolting through you.

"Count," he commanded.

"One," you gasped.

He spanked you again, the sound echoing in the room.

"Two!"

Another. Harder.

"Three!"

"Good girl." His hand soothed over the reddened skin. "See? You can follow instructions when you want to."

You heard the rustle of his jeans, the sound of his belt unbuckling. Then the mattress dipped, and his body was behind you, his chest pressing against your back.

"You want this?" he asked, his lips at your ear, his cock pressing against your wet folds. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," you breathed. "Please, Jake. I need it."

"Need what? Say it."

"I need your cock. Please. I need you to fill me up."

He pushed inside you in one smooth stroke, and you both moaned. He was thick, stretching you, and you gripped the sheets as he bottomed out.

"Fuck," he groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "So tight. Fuck, baby. You feel so good."

He pulled out slowly, then slammed back in, and the sound you made was almost inhuman.

"That's it," he grunted, setting a brutal pace. "That's my good girl. Taking it so well."

His hand snaked around your front, finding your clit, circling in time with his thrusts. You were already close, the pressure building.

"Please don't stop," you begged. "Please, I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me," he commanded. "Cum on my cock."

And you did, with a cry of his name, your walls clenching around him. He didn't slow down, fucking you through it, chasing his own release.

"Jake," you whimpered as he kept going, overstimulated but not wanting him to stop. "Jake, it's too much-"

"One more," he moaned. "You can give me one more."

He pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your back. Before you could protest, his head was between your thighs, his mouth on you.

"ohh-" You jolted, your hands fisting in his hair. "Jake!"

He was relentless, his tongue lapping at your folds, his lips sucking your clit. He groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body.

"Taste so sweet," he murmured. "Could eat you all fucking night."

And he did. He worked you with his mouth until you were an absolute wreck, until your thighs were shaking, until you came again with a broken sob, your hips bucking against his face.

He pulled back, his chin glistening, and kissed his way up your body.

"One more," he said, his voice hoarse. "I need one more, baby. Can you do that for me?"

"I don't- I can't-"

"Yes you can." He kissed you, and you tasted yourself on his lips. "You're gonna take it. All of it."

He reached for his phone on the nightstand, but before he could even unlock it, it started buzzing in his hand. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening slightly.

"It's Heeseung," he muttered, looking at you with an unreadable expression. "They're probably checking on me. Making sure I didn't do something stupid."

He answered the call, bringing the phone to his ear, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah?"

You could hear the muffled sound of voices on the other end, laughter in the background.

"Bro, you good?" Heeseung's voice crackled through. "You stormed out so fast. We were getting worried."

"I'm fine," Jake said, his voice steady, calm. "I'm at her place."

"Oh shit, really?" Jay said, yelling in the background. "Did you confront her? What happened? Is she crying? Did you-"

"I'm handling it," Jake cut in smoothly. "We talked, it's fine."

You watched him, a slow smile curling on your lips. He was so composed, so in control. It was almost cute.

You shifted on the bed, crawling toward him on your hands and knees. His eyes flickered to you, a warning in them, but you just tilted your head innocently.

"Jake? You still there?" Sunghoon's voice came through.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm here."

You reached out, your fingers trailing up his thigh. His breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

"Okay, well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay," Heeseung said. "You seemed pretty wrecked earlier."

"I'm fine," Jake repeated, his voice tighter now. "Really. Everything's good."

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. His hand came up, trying to push you away gently, but you just smiled against his skin.

"Bro, you sound weird," Ni-ki's voice chimed in. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just tired." Jake's voice was strained now, his jaw clenched. "Listen, I gotta go. We'll catch up tomorrow."

"Wait, wait, wait-"

But you were already sliding down his body, your fingers wrapping around his cock. Jake's hand shot out, grabbing your shoulder, trying to push you back.

"Behave," he hissed under his breath, his eyes wide.

You just grinned up at him, all innocence, and lowered your mouth to him.

Jake sucked in a sharp breath, his hand flying to his mouth to muffle the sound.

"Jake? Hello?" Sunoo's voice piped through. "You still there?"

"Y-yeah," he managed, his voice cracking. "I'm here."

You took him deeper, your tongue swirling, and his hips bucked involuntarily. He gripped the sheets, his knuckles white.

"You sure you're okay, man?" Heeseung asked, sounding suspicious now. "You're breathing kinda heavy."

"Just... just tired," Jake choked out. "Long night."

You hummed around him, a soft, satisfied sound, and he nearly dropped the phone.

"Okayyyy," Jay said. "Well, we'll let you go. But seriously, if you need to talk about what happened-"

"Don't need to talk," Jake cut in, his voice strained. "I'm good. Everything's good. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Alright, bro. Take care."

"Bye."

He hung up and threw the phone onto the bed, his head falling back as a groan escaped his lips.

"What the fuck," he breathed, his hand coming down to grip your hair. "You're insane you know that?"

You pulled off just long enough to look up at him, your lips swollen, your eyes wide. "I just wanted to help you relax. You seemed so tense."

"Tense," he repeated, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. "You're going to be the death of me."

You smiled and took him back into your mouth, deeper this time, your hand working what your mouth couldn't reach. His hips bucked again, his fingers tightening in your hair.

"That's it," he groaned, his voice dropping lower. "You want everyone to know what a slut you are? Huh? You want them to hear?"

You moaned around him, loud and deliberate, your eyes fluttering closed.

"Fuck," he hissed. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You want them to know. You want everyone to know exactly what you are."

You pulled off again, a string of saliva connecting you to him. "Maybe," you whispered, your voice husky. "Maybe I want them to know who I really belong to."

He grabbed his phone unlocking it, his thumb swiping to the camera. He held it up, angling it so it captured you perfectly on your knees. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and your hair tangled in his fist.

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

You obeyed instantly, your tongue darting out.

"Good girl." He smirked, pressing the record button. "Now show me what you do best."

You took him into your mouth, your eyes locked on the camera, a practiced, hungry look on your face. He let out a low groan, his free hand tightening in your hair.

"That's it," he breathed. "Look at you. So desperate for it. So hungry."

You moaned around him, your throat working as you took him deeper.

"Fuck," he gasped, his hips starting to thrust. "You love this, don't you? Love being on your knees for me."

You hummed in agreement, your hands gripping his thighs, pulling him closer.

"God, you're so good at this," he panted, the phone shaking slightly in his hand. "Look at you. Look at how well you take it."

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard, and his head fell back with a broken moan.

The room was thick with heat, sounds of your ragged breathing and the slick, wet noises that filled the space between you. Jake had you positioned just how he wanted. On your knees, your lips stretched around him as he fucked your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice strained. "Eyes on me."

You obeyed, looking up at him through your lashes, tears streaking your cheeks, saliva dripping down your chin. The sight of you like this, all wrecked, desperate, utterly his made his head spin.

"I'm close," he warned, his voice tight. "You want it? Want me to-"

You nodded frantically, your eyes begging, and he let out a strangled cry as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed everything, your eyes never leaving his, and when you pulled off, you licked your lips clean.

He pulled you up onto the bed, pushing you onto your back. "Open up," he said, and you obeyed immediately, your mouth falling open. He stroked himself a few times, then painted your lips, your cheeks, your chin with thick ropes of white. He moved lower, aiming for your chest, letting it drip down onto your tits, watching it pool in the hollow of your collarbone.

"Fuck," he breathed, his chest heaving. "Look at you. Look at what you let me do to you."

You were a mess with his cum splattered across you, dripping down your neck, pooling on your skin. And you loved every second of it.

He reached for his phone. "Don't move," he said. "I need to remember this."

He snapped a few photos of your ruined face, messy chest, the way you looked up at him like he was the only person in the world. His thumb swiped through the gallery, admiring his work.

You watched him, your heart racing. "Who are you gonna send those to?"

Jake glanced at you, his brow furrowing. "Huh? No one. They're for me. I was just gonna keep them."

You sat up slowly, letting the sheets fall away from your body. You reached out, trailing a finger down his chest. "Really? Just for you?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, setting the phone down. "Why? You want me to-"

"Maybe." You bit your lip, looking up at him through those innocent eyes that he knew by now were anything but innocent. "I want everyone to know who I belong to. Wouldn't want them to think I still belong to Jeno."

Something dark flickered in Jake's eyes. "Such a whore. You want everyone to see you like this? Want the attention?"

"Maybe," you repeated, your voice dropping to something low and sultry. "I want everyone to know I'm yours. Not his. Not anyone else's."

He swallowed hard, his cock twitching at your words.

"You want me to send it to the group chat?" he asked, his voice rough. "The boys? Want them all to see what you look like when you're being Jake's good girl?"

You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his ear. "Send it," you whispered. "Show them. I don't care. I just want them to know. I want everyone to know that I'm yours and only yours."

He pulled back, searching your face. "You're serious?"

"I've never been more serious about anything." You reached for his phone, pressing it into his hand.

He opened the group chat, the one with his six friends from the dinner. His thumb hovered over the screen.

"This is crazy," he muttered. "They are hornballs they're probably gonna-"

"Send it," you urged, your voice a low purr. "Don't you want them to see what you do to me? Don't you want them to know I'm yours?"

He selected the photos, your ruined face, messy chest, and desperate eyes. His thumb hit send.

"There," he said, tossing the phone aside. "Now they know exactly who you belong to."

You pulled him down into another kiss, your arms wrapping around him. "Good," you whispered against his lips. "Because I was always yours."

His phone started blowing up on the nightstand notifications piling up one after another. Jake reached for it, but you grabbed his hand, threading your fingers through his.

"Leave it," you murmured. "Focus on me."

He looked at you messy, ruined, beautiful and something possessive flared in his chest. He forgot about the phone, forgot about the boys, forgot about everything except the girl in front of him.

"Yeah," he breathed, leaning down to kiss your neck. "Yeah, okay. Just you."

The phone kept buzzing, but neither of you cared.

You positioned yourself on top of him, your hands resting gently on his chest. The weight of you settled against his thighs, and you could feel him beneath you, still hard and ready. But you didn't rush. You took your time, letting the moment stretch, letting him watch you.

"Hey," you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Look at me."

His eyes found yours, hazy and warm, full of something that made your chest ache. You kissed him again, slow and deep, your tongue sweeping against his in a lazy rhythm.

"I've got you," you murmured against his mouth. "Just relax."

You reached down between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance. The tip pressed against you, and you let out a soft breath, your forehead falling against his.

"Ready?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, princess. I'm ready."

You sank down onto him, inch by inch. Your mouth fell open, a quiet moan escaping your lips as he filled you. His hands came up to grip your hips, but he didn't push or pull. He just held on, his thumbs stroking gentle circles against your skin.

"Fuck," he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut. "You feel..."

"Good?" you finished, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Incredible," he corrected.

You stayed still for a moment, letting yourself adjust to the feeling of him inside you. Your hands cupped his face, tilting his head up so you could look into his eyes.

"You're so beautiful," you whispered, and you meant it. In this moment, with his lips parted and his hair sticking to him, he was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

He let out a shaky laugh. "You're the one who's beautiful."

You shook your head, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "No, it's you. It's always been you."

And then you started to move.

Slow at first, your hips rolling in a gentle, circular motion. You rose up and sank back down, letting him feel every inch of you. His hands slid to your waist supporting you.

"Jake," you breathed, and his name on your lips made his eyes flutter shut.

"I'm right here," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."

You kept your pace slow, unhurried, savoring every moment. Your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm, like you'd done this a thousand times before.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his neck, trailing soft kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. He turned his head, catching your lips in a sweet soft kiss.

"This is..." he started, but he couldn't finish.

"I know," you whispered against his lips. "I know."

You could feel the tension building in his body, the way his breath caught with every movement.

"Don't stop," he breathed. "Please love don't stop."

"I won't," you promised. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

You could feel yourself getting close, the warmth building low in your belly. Your movements became a little more urgent, a little more desperate, but still slow.

"Jake," you gasped. "I'm close."

"Me too," he managed. "Together. I want to feel you cum with me."

You nodded, your forehead pressed to his. "Okay. Together."

And then it hit you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you. You cried out, his name a broken whisper on your lips. You felt him follow, felt his hips buck up into you as he came, a groan escaping his throat.

You collapsed against him, your bodies tangled together, both of you trembling and breathless. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Stay with me," he murmured into your hair. "Just stay here. Please."

You smiled against his chest, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. "I'm not going anywhere."

He tilted your chin up, catching your lips in a soft, tender kiss. Then another. And another. Each one softer than the last, each one saying everything words couldn't.

Then he laughed, a disbelieving, breathless sound.

"What?" you asked, propping yourself to look at him.

"I was so mad at you," he said, shaking his head. "And then you-" He gestured vaguely. "And now I barely even remember what I was mad about."

You smiled, innocent as ever. "That was the point."

He pulled you down, kissing you softly.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips. "I know I shouldn't. I know you're probably gonna destroy me. But I love you."

You kissed him back, your fingers carding through his hair.

"I love you too," you whispered. "And I'm never going to hurt you, Jake. You're mine. And I take care of what's mine."

He believed you. Of course he believed you.

And that was exactly how you wanted it.

he looks unfairly good tonight. black shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, a couple of buttons undone, hair slightly messy like he ran his hands through it on the way over. people notice him the second he steps in. they always do.

at first he stays close. he gets you a drink, leans down to murmur something stupid in your ear that makes you laugh, keeps his fingers hooked in the back pocket of your jeans like he can’t help it. for a little while it feels normal. then the night starts shifting.

it begins with a girl from one of the partner brands — tall, shiny hair, and that easy confidence that comes with being used to attention. she appears at jake’s side while you’re mid-conversation with someone else, touches his arm to get his attention, laughs too brightly at something he says. jake smiles back. it's the polite kind of smile at first. then the warmer kind. the one that crinkles his eyes. the one he usually gives you.

you watch from a few feet away as he angles his body toward her, nodding along, letting her lean in closer than necessary. his hand gestures while he talks, and at one point he rests it lightly on her shoulder when she pretends to stumble in her heels.

it's nothing outrageous. nothing he couldn’t explain.

but you know him. you know the difference between polite and interested, and right now he’s giving her the version of himself that used to make your stomach flip when it was aimed at you.

your drink suddenly tastes too bitter.

you try to shake it off. you talk to other people. you smile when someone compliments your outfit. but your eyes keep drifting back. every time you look, jake is still there — refilling her glass, tilting his head to hear her over the music, letting her fingers brush his wrist when she emphasizes a point. at one point he laughs, head moving back, and the sound lasts just enough for you to catch it.

something hot and ugly twists under your ribs.

he glances over then, like he can feel your stare. his eyes meet yours across the small crowd. for a second he just looks at you. then the corner of his mouth curves up, slow and knowing. he doesn’t look away. he holds your gaze while the girl keeps talking, and you realize he’s enjoying this. he likes that you’re watching. he likes that you’re bothered.

you turn away first, jaw tight.

the next hour is a slow exercise in restraint. jake drifts between groups but somehow always ends up with a different girl orbiting him — a stylist who keeps touching his chest when she laughs, a model who asks him to help her with her necklace so she can tilt her head and bare her throat. each time his attention lingers a little longer than it needs to. each time he finds your eyes afterward, checking. measuring. looking pleased with whatever he finds there.

by the time you step outside for air, your pulse is thudding in your throat. the night is cooler out here, quieter. you press your palms against the stone railing and try to breathe through the sharp, irrational hurt sitting in your chest. it’s not like he’s cheated. he’s barely done anything. and still.

footsteps approach behind you. jake’s voice is light when he speaks.

“you’re quiet tonight.”

you don’t turn around. “am i?”

he comes up beside you, close enough that his arm brushes yours. “you’re jealous.”

it’s not a question. you hate how easily he can read you. you hate even more that he sounds almost fond about it.

“you’re imagining things,” you say.

jake huffs a soft laugh. “am i? because you’ve been watching me like you’re planning my murder for the last forty minutes.” he leans his hip against the railing, studying your profile. “it’s kind of hot.”

you finally look at him. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and you’re transparent. very.” his voice drops, warm and teasing. “i like when you get like this. all tense and quiet and mean. i can see it in your eyes. it makes me want to drag you somewhere and remind you you’re the only one i actually leave with.”

the words should soothe something. instead they scrape. because he still did it. he still let those girls get close, still smiled at them the way he smiles at you, still checked to make sure you were suffering through it.

you push off the railing. “i’m going back inside.”

jake catches your wrist, thumb stroking once over your pulse. “hey. don’t be mad for real.”

you pull free and walk away without answering.

inside, the music feels louder. you head straight for the bar, ask for something stronger, and force yourself to engage with the first friendly face that appears. it happens to be a guy from a previous project — tall, easy smile, the kind of open flirty energy that usually rolls off you without sticking. tonight you let it stick. you laugh at his jokes. you let him touch the small of your back when he leans in to speak over the noise. you don’t step away when his hand settles there a little longer than necessary.

it feels petty. it also feels good in some kind of way.

you catch jake’s reflection in the mirrored shelf behind the bar almost immediately. he’s standing with a small group again, but his attention is no longer on them. his eyes are locked on the place where the guy’s hand rests against you. his expression has gone flat, the earlier playful amusement wiped clean.

you hold his gaze deliberately, then turn back to the guy with a brighter smile, shifting closer so your shoulder presses against his arm. the guy says something you barely register. you nod anyway, fingers brushing his forearm as you answer.

jake’s jaw flexes.

you do it again a few minutes later with someone else — a different guy, one who offers to get you another drink and stays beside you after, hand settling casually on your waist while he talks. you let it stay. you even lean into it a little, head tipping toward him like you’re sharing a secret. across the room jake has stopped pretending to participate in his conversation entirely. he’s just watching, eyes dark, mouth set in a hard line.

when you finally excuse yourself to the restroom, you only make it halfway down the hallway before a hand closes around your arm and pulls you into a quieter alcove near the emergency exit.

jake cages you in against the wall, body tense, voice already edged.

“what the hell was that?”

you look up at him, pulse kicking, and let a small smile curve your mouth. “what was what?”

“don’t.” his voice is low and tight. “you let him put his hands on you. both of them. you leaned into it.”

“and you let half the girls here put their hands on you,” you answer sweetly. “you refilled her drink. you fixed her necklace. you kept looking at me afterward like you wanted me to see it.” you tip your head, still smiling. “why is it okay when you do it but not when i do it?”

jake stares at you. something volatile flashes through his expression. “because i was messing with you. because i wanted you jealous. because it was a game.”

“so is this,” you say.

his hands flex against the wall on either side of your head. “it’s not the same.”

“isn’t it?”

for a second you think he might actually raise his voice right here, where anyone could walk past. instead he leans in closer, forehead almost touching yours, breath warm and sharp.

“you’re doing this on purpose.”

“so were you.”

jake’s eyes drop to your mouth. his voice comes out rougher. “we’re leaving.”

“are we?”

“yes.” he pushes off the wall, grabs your hand, and starts walking. his grip is firm enough that you feel it in your wrist. he doesn’t look back to see if you’re following properly. he just expects you to keep up.

the ride home is silent and thick with tension. jake drives with one hand locked on the steering wheel, the other flexing against his thigh. you sit in the passenger seat watching the city lights streak past, still half-smiling to yourself because you can feel how wound up he is. every red light makes his jaw tighten further.

by the time he parks outside your place, the air in the car feels combustible.

inside the apartment he kicks the door shut harder than necessary. you barely get your shoes off before he turns on you.

“you don’t get to do that,” he says, voice rising. “you don’t get to let other guys put their hands on you because you’re pissed at me.”

you drop your bag on the counter, still calm, still needling. “and you don’t get to flirt with half the party just to watch me squirm and then act shocked when i return the favor.”

“i wasn’t actually interested in any of them—”

“and i wasn’t interested in any of them either.” you step closer, chin tipped up. “why is it okay when you do it but not when i do it, jake?”

his name on your tongue like that, soft and taunting, is the last straw.

jake closes the distance in two strides, hands framing your face roughly as he kisses you. it’s not gentle. it’s all the frustration of the night poured into the press of his mouth, the sharp edge of his teeth, the way he backs you toward the bedroom without breaking the contact. you kiss him back just as hard, fingers already fisted in his shirt, because the argument has nowhere left to go except this.

he gets your clothes off like they’re personally offending him. shirt first, then the zipper of your jeans yanked down with impatient hands. when you’re finally bare on the bed he stands there for a second just looking at you, chest heaving, eyes almost black.

“you’re mine,” he says, voice still rough. “you don’t get to touch other people like that. you don’t get to smile at them like that.”

you push up onto your elbows, still needling even now. “then maybe you shouldn’t either.”

jake makes a low sound and climbs over you, mouth finding your throat, your collarbone, the upper curve of your breast. he bites hard enough to leave marks, then soothes the same spots with his tongue like he can’t decide whether he wants to punish you or worship you. his hand shoves between your legs without preamble, two fingers sliding through the wetness there and pushing inside.

“already soaked,” he mutters against your skin. “was it the fighting or the fact that you got me like this?”

you gasp when he curls his fingers. “both—”

he works you open roughly, thumb dragging over your clit in tight circles until your thighs start shaking. the whole time he keeps talking, voice low and heated against your ear.

“those guys don’t get to touch you. they don’t get to make you laugh like that. they don’t get to put their hands on your waist like they have any right.” his fingers thrust deeper. “only me. only i do.”

you come with a broken sound, hips jerking against his hand. jake doesn’t give you time to recover. he pulls his fingers free, shoves his own clothes off, and settles between your thighs, cock already hard and leaking.

when he pushes in it’s in one long, deep stroke that knocks the air from your lungs. he doesn’t start slow. he sets a hard, possessive rhythm immediately, hands braced on either side of your head, eyes locked on your face like he needs to watch every expression he drags out of you.

“this is what you get,” he pants, thrusting harder. “you rile me up on purpose and then act surprised when i fuck you like this.”

you wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper, still able to find a breathless smile. “you started it.”

jake growls and kisses you again, messy and open-mouthed, hips snapping forward with enough force to shift you up the bed. one of his hands slides down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider so he can grind against your clit on every stroke. the wet sound of it fills the room. so do your moans, louder now, and the rough edge of his breathing.

“say it,” he demands. “tell me who you belong to.”

“you,” you manage. “only you—”

“damn right.” he drives into you harder, angle shifting until every thrust hits that spot that makes your vision blur. “no more touching other people. no more letting them put their hands on what’s mine. understand?”

you nod frantically, already close again. jake slips a hand between you to rub your clit, and the dual sensation tips you over with a cry. you clench around him hard. he follows a few thrusts later with a deep, guttural sound, burying himself to the hilt as he comes, pulsing hot inside you.

for a while the only sound is the two of you trying to catch your breath. jake stays braced over you, forehead dropped to your shoulder, body still trembling through the aftershocks. eventually he presses a softer kiss to the side of your neck, then another to your jaw, the anger finally bleeding out of him.

“you drive me crazy,” he mutters.

you run your fingers through his hair, still smiling a little. “you started it.”

he huffs a weak laugh against your skin. “yeah. i did.” he shifts just enough to look at you, eyes softer now. “no more games like that. not with other people. next time i want you jealous i’ll do it without letting anyone else touch me.”

you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “deal. as long as the same rule applies to you.”

jake kisses you once, slow and lingering. “deal.”

he pulls out carefully, winces at the mess, then tugs you onto his chest anyway, unbothered. his hand strokes up and down your back in lazy passes while your heart rates slowly settle.

outside, the city keeps making noise. inside, the argument is over, and jake’s arms are locked around you like he’s still making sure you’re right there. that you aren't leaving.

you close your eyes, smile against his collarbone, and let yourself enjoy the fact that for all the mess of the night, you both ended up exactly where you wanted to be.

© jongst4r, 2026

face sitting/riding, attempted 69-ing, fingering, unprotected sex, handjob, creampie, messy pussy eating (twice), squirting, ass slapping, doggy style, passionate sex, crying. (the smut is really just a bonus)

This is not a good look. Walking down the fourth floor hallway of the honors housing building barefoot with your tiny dress and your heels in your hand is definitely not a good look. You’re pretty sure the honors students are not impressed to see you in such little clothing on this bright Saturday morning but you can’t even bring yourself to give a damn. Your face is twisted into a scowl so severe that one guy carrying a basket of clothes actually steps aside to let you pass, your hair is still messy from last night and yesterday's mascara is faintly smudged beneath your eyes.

Saturday mornings on campus are always strange, especially in Jace's building, the residents here think they're so self righteous cause they've probably already gone for a jog, written three essays and finished a research paper and it's not even nine yet.

You can barely register any of it because you're too busy replaying last night in your head for the hundredth miserable time. The Friday night date you had been looking forward to had started out badly and ended up even worse, the guy, whose name you're sure your brain will repress, spent twenty minutes talking about cryptocurrency. And if that wasn't enough, when the bill came, he leaned back in his chair with this smug little grin and said, "So...am I paying for this just to not take you home after, or what?"

You physically shudder remembering it. God, men are actually sick in the head. Maybe you're actually sick in the head too cause humiliatingly—you followed him and now that the sun is out and you can think clearly you know it was just your horniness that drove you to such a terrible decision.

It had been weeks, maybe even months since you'd been in with anyone and after two drinks and one existential crisis in the restaurant bathroom mirror, you'd convinced yourself maybe the mediocre man deserved a chance.

What a mistake.

You feel irritation surge through your body all over again and by now you've reached Jace's door. Not even bothering to knock, you shove it open dramatically. "Jace, I swear to God I think it's finally time for me to try celibacy."

Jace is sat up in his bed in gray sweatpants and a compression shirt, glasses sliding down his nose as he looks up from his laptop to blink at you slowly. "Mmm? Why?"

You kick the door shut behind you, "Cause men are the worst and I'm tired of kissing so many frogs just because I want a prince!"

"Tell me more."

He says softly and sets his laptop aside as you dramatically throw yourself onto the end of his bed with a groan loud enough to let him know you're genuinely upset. You stare at the ceiling before you start ranting again. "First of all, he had the personality of a plastic spork and I'm not even joking, the conversation was so bad, like a solid three out of ten."

"This man," you continue, pointing accusingly at absolutely nothing, "had the audacity to insinuate that he would only pay for dinner if I was going home with him!"

Jace's eyebrows immediately pull together. "What? That's so messed up."

"Exactly." You sigh before sitting up abruptly again. "He said it like he thought it was charming and sexy too. Like I was supposed to giggle and throw my panties at him across the table."

You watch as Jace grimaces at your words, "Please tell me you didn't stay after he said that?"

Damn. How do you tell your best friend that not only did you stay you actually went home with this guy and had sex with him? If you could call that sex. "I was very horny, okay? I'm literally ovulating and I thought ugh maybe the sex could be good?" Yeah, that works.

"Oh come on, Y/n. You're better than that." He seems so disappointed in you that you have to try to ignore the fact that he even let the conversation get this far.

"And not to add to your disappointment but the sex absolutely sucked. Just added a body to my count and that brings me to a whoppingggg...two." You say and start giggling to yourself.

Jace lets out the most disbelieving laugh imaginable. "Oh my God."

"It was so bad, Jace. Like genuinely horrible. I've had more chemistry with self checkout machines." You’re glad that manages to get a startled laugh out of him. "He kept asking me if I liked that every three seconds."

If you'd just slow down to take a look at your best friend's face, you'd see a smirk you'd never seen before but of course you don't cause you're so mad at the whole situation, more at yourself too. "And then when I tried to like guide him a little?" You gesture wildly. "He got defensive."

"Hmm, defensive how?" He asks, eyeing you weirdly now. "Defensive like when I tried to guide his fingers to my actual clit he—"

Your words are cut off by the door swinging open and your irritation immediately flares at the sight of who is standing in the doorway, shifting your gaze back to the twin on the bed, you let out a groan of annoyance. "Seriously, Jake? Can you give us five minutes of peace?" you mutter, rolling your eyes toward the doorway, expecting to see Jace's twin brother hovering there with his usual grating smirk.

But instead the room just goes dead silent and curiosity forces you to actually look at the person standing in the threshold. You rake your eyes over him, ready to snap some insult about him intruding on your conversation but the words die in your throat. Because why is he standing there so confused and wearing his brother's clothes and carrying his textbooks?

Why is the custom silver bag chain you had to hunt down for Jace's birthday hanging from Jake's bag?

Your stomach drops in a sickening free fall sensation. If that's Jace...then who the hell are you sitting next to?

"What are you even talking about?" the twin standing in the door asks, his voice threaded with a weary frustration. He looks between you and the bed, his brow furrowing deeper. "Jake, I told you—I don't know how many times I have to say this—stay the hell out of my room when I'm not here. Why are you even here?"

You slowly turn your head to look at the person sitting on the bed and he's already watching you, his gaze no longer just amused, it's now sharp and terrifyingly aware of the fact that you have just realized exactly who he is. He's also completely dropped the persona of his brother he'd been carrying, there's something in the way his eyes can go from earnest and sweet just like his brothers to predatory so quickly.

This isn't the first time, maybe that's why you feel the sting that makes your vision blur with heat so quickly. Jake has made a sport of this, a twisted game of shadows where he slips into his brother's life just to see how long it takes for you to figure it out. But your anger isn't just directed at him this time around, it's the way he makes you feel so stupid you can't stand. You've known Jace for years, he's your best friend and yet you just laid your entire sexual history bare to a predator in a compression shirt because he mirrored an earnest tilt of the head and a quiet "Tell me more."

Jace lets out a breath that sounds more like a groan, "Jake," he says in a frustrated but practiced tone. "Get off my bed. Now."

Jake doesn't move immediately, still lingering in the dip of the mattress and watching the way your chest pants with outraged breaths. Only when Jace takes a step further into the room does Jake finally rise, moving with an infuriating lack of urgency and stretching in the mirror. You watch as his muscles pull taut against that borrowed shirt—Jace's shirt.

"Relax, professor. I'm leaving," Jake says, his voice losing the faux earnest quality he'd used to bait you just a moment ago. Now he's just Jake, arrogant and loud Jake. "Mom called. She wanted me to tell you that if you don't call her back by six to confirm for Sunday dinner, she's going to stop by your lab and embarrass you in front of your recluse friends."

"That could have been a text, Jake. A five second text. You didn't need to come here."

Jake tilts his head, a lazy, jagged grin cutting across his face. "I know," he smiles wider, the amusement dancing in his tone. "But where's the fun in a text? I prefer the personal touch."

He begins to move toward the door, his shoulder intentionally brushing yours as he attempts to pass. But then he stops and leans in, letting the heat radiate off his skin in a way that makes you want to scramble backward but you're pinned by the stupid audacity of his proximity.

His lips hover inches from the shell of your ear, dropping his voice into a low volume that Jace couldn't possibly catch over the sound of his own frustrated rustling.

"For what it's worth, baby doll," he breathes, "I could definitely get you off. And I promise you wouldn't have to show me where anything was. I'd find it just fine on my own."

You immediately recoil as if he's physically burned you, it’s like a violent shudder of disgust racks your frame. He doesn't even wait for your slap him or scream at him, he thinks the chuckle that lets out is enough and with that he walks out of the door, leaving the air behind him feeling way too overcharged.

You remain sat on the bed as your heart hammers unevenly against your ribs. Across the room, Jace is already moving, you notice his hands trembling slightly while he tries to set his textbooks down with a finality that suggests he's trying to ground himself.

It is a familiar but such an exhausting dance.

You and the Sim twins have been in each other’s lives since before you could even form any memories. Since you were born barely a week apart, you were raised as a collective—like a trio bound by the inseparable bond of your mothers. Your childhood photos are a blur of shared birthday cakes and matching grass stained knees in a suburban neighborhood that felt like it belonged to the three of you alone.

Jake is technically the older one by a mere four minutes, a fact he used to brag when you were younger but the order of birth was rendered irrelevant a long time ago by the overwhelming difference in their personalities. Jake has always been some kind of force of nature, you found him childish even back then, to you he vibrated with a restless energy that left everyone exhausted in his wake. By the time you were sixteen, the neighborhood had already collectively decided that Jace was the older one because he was the one who carried all the responsibility, the one who navigated the world with a quiet dignity while Jake was busy being a headache to his parents.

Now they have become the very definition of a cliché, they are two halves of a whole that refuse to touch. It's why Jace occupies this sterile sanctuary in the honors housing, where he’s surrounded by the scent of old ink and high expectations while Jake is deep in the trenches of his frat house across campus.

"I'm sorry," Jace says, his voice finally breaking the heavy silence. "I should have changed the code to the door. I told him last time he crashed here."

You swallow hard on the bile still sitting at the base of your throat. "Ugh, he’ll literally never change, he’s just the worst. He sat there and pretended to be you and listened to me talk about my date from last night!" You raise your voice but the genuine guilt on the familiar lines of Jace’s features makes the anger in your chest soften into a dull flickering. It's the same face you've turned to for comfort for two decades and yet for a fleeting moment on that bed, you still hadn't been able to tell the difference.

"What did he say to you?" Jace asks, his tone cautious as if he's afraid the answer will scare him. "At the end. Before he left."

You wave a hand dismissively like you’re trying to physically swat away the lingering vibration of Jake's voice in the room. "Nothing. Just him being the typical douchebag he's been since forever," you mutter, though the heat still throbbing in your neck tells a different story.

You've spent the better part of a decade perfecting the art of hating Jake Sim and by now it’s a necessary armor, a defense mechanism against the wild gravitational pull he exerts on everyone around him. But as you look at Jace, you're hit with the stinging irony of your own history.

Irony because before the hatred came, all you had for Jake was love. At six years old you were convinced you’d be marrying him and had scrawled Mrs. Jake Sim in the margins of your coloring books with a confidence that only a child can muster, fully believing that life would eventually find you in a white dress and a life spent chasing him.

That was, until the day he decided to bless you with your earliest and most vivid memory of him. You can still see him standing in the driveway of his family home, gap toothed with devilish grin on his face as he looked you dead in the eye and delivered a piece of information that shattered your world.

"You know you were supposed to have a twin too," he had said, his voice flat and terrifyingly casual for a six year old. "But you got so hungry, you ate her in your mommy's belly."

The trauma of that statement had sent you straight into an inconsolable grief that lasted for hours. You had cried until your chest ached, genuinely horrified by the monster Jake had told you that you were. And then, Jace appeared by your side with a half melted watermelon popsicle and a hand on your shoulder. He hadn't laughed at you or teased you, he did sit with you in the grass and told you it wasn't true, effectively choosing your side over his brothers before any of you could even realize what was happening. That was the day the pedestal for Jake crumbled and the one for Jace was built.

You look at Jace, seeing the way his eyebrows are still knit together in that worried arch. "I hate the fact that I still can't tell you two apart when he's playing his little games...it makes me want to scream."

Jace moves closer. "It's not your fault," he says softly while his eyes search yours. "He's spent twenty two years learning how to mimic me just to get under people's skin. Especially yours."

You quickly brush off his statement by bringing up something else. Jake does not get under your skin.

"You know, you really should swing by the apartment from time to time, Jace," you say, clearly trying to shift the focus. "Unless you want Jake and his frat bros to completely take it over. Your parents got it for both of you, after all."

Jace just shakes his head with a look of real burnout crossing his face. "I'd rather not," he admits, taking a seat at his desk. "I can't study with the smell of cheap beer and whatever bullshit he's invited over."

You notice he looks a little distressed, a little distracted even and you know it’s not just because of Jake. "Where were you anyway?" you ask, squinting at him. "You look like you got a B or something."

"I was just grabbing coffee," he says but then he pauses, only to whisper the other half of his sentence. "With Jungwon."

You practically squeal and the bad date along with Jake's creepy comments are momentarily forgotten as you lunge at him, grabbing his arm. "Oh my god! Tell me everything. I need all the details like right now!"

Jace sighs, looking down at his feet. "I don't know. I don't think he's even into guys."

You pull back to give him a look of total disbelief. "Are you kidding? Of course he is! He literally hooked up with Sunghoon—you know, Sunoo's ex? It was a whole thing last semester."

Jace laughs but it sounds a little forced. "That was just a rumor, Y/n. Nobody actually knows if that happened."

"If it was such a rumor, then why would Jungwon want to hang out with you so much...alone?" you counter with a stubborn cross of your arms. "Men don't just hang out that much without a reason."

Jace lets out a real laugh this time, shaking his head at your logic. "He's probably just trying to get closer to you," he says, his eyes fixed on yours for a second too long.

"What? That's ridiculous," you huff. "Who would go through all that effort just for me?"

Jace looks away with a certain smile on his lips as he mumbles under his breath, "You have noooo idea."

"It's not just Jungwon," he continues, his voice sounding small and a little tired. "You don't realize how many guys have pretended to be my friend just this year, hanging out in the lab, offering to help with my notes, only to eventually pivot the conversation to you. They all want to know what you like, if you're single or if I can put in a good word."

You stare at him, feeling a familiar ache in your chest again. While you're busy dealing with mid tier dates and Jake's constant nuisance, Jace is dealing with a different kind of problem.

Your mind drifts back to the summer after freshman year when you were home from college, sitting on the edge of your pool with your feet in the water in the humid night air. You'd always had a hunch, like a quiet feeling that Jace's lack of interest in the girls in your small town wasn't just about all his focus being on his studies. So when he finally told you he was gay, it felt like a missing piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place and you were just glad it only took one semester away from your hometown for him to feel safe enough to realize who he truly was.

But that safety is still such a fragile thing because no one else knows, not their parents and definitely not Jake. Jace is terrified of what their reaction would be, he’s worried that his family's approval, which is something he's worked so hard for with his honors status and exemplary accomplishments would vanish in an instant.

And that’s exactly why every time Jake makes a crude joke about you and Jace being a secret couple or asks if you're finally giving Jace some sugar, you just take it. You let it happen, either rolling your eyes or firing back a witty comment, just letting Jake believe whatever he wants because you’d much rather the world think you're sleeping with your best friend than risk unintentionally outing him before he's ready.

"I have some idea," you say softly, patting the space on his bed next to you so he comes over and sits with you. "But maybe Jungwon is different? Maybe he's the one who actually wants to know about you."

Jace offers a weak but hopeful smile, unfortunately it fades quickly when he speaks again. "Even if he did...what then? I'm not even out out yet, I’m literally pretending to be someone I'm not. It's a lot to ask of someone."

The contrast between them is enough to give you whiplash. It's always been this way and you hate how Jake gets to be the reckless one, living his life at full volume without a single care for the consequences. You can still remember the awkward silence of their hallway back in high school with the sound of girls leaving Jake's room in tears, his trail of broken hearts just another part of his bad boy charm. He's always been free to be exactly who he is, no matter how messy it gets.

And then there's Jace, who is ten times the man his brother is and he stays huddled in his shell, scared to death that being himself will cost him everything. It makes your chest tight with sadness. He's spent his whole life being the reliable twin just to keep the peace while Jake burns the house down and gets a pass for it.

But you don't let yourself linger on the pity for too long, you know Jace hates it when you get that look in your eyes so you shake your head and force a bright grin onto your face.

"Listen, the lit majors are throwing a party tonight," you say, turning to face him with a spark of excitement. "And I'm telling you, it's not like those sweaty, overcrowded frat parties on greek row where your brother hangs out. It's actually always chill from what I’ve heard. You should invite Jungwon. I'll be there the whole time, so you won't be alone."

Jace's eyes go wide and he immediately starts backing up toward his headboard. "No. No way. I can't just...ask him to a party. That's too much."

"Oh, shut up!" you yell, launching yourself off the bed and tackling him onto the mattress. He lets out a startled oof as you scramble to grab his phone from the desk. "Life is all about risks, Jace! You're going to be an old man wondering what if because you were too scared to send a blue bubble?"

"Y/n, give it back!" he pleads, laughing even as he tries to reach his phone first but you're faster, pinning his arm down with your knee and waving the phone triumphantly. "You'll never know if you don't try! Do you want to spend tonight staring at a textbook or staring at him?"

He groans, his face turning a deep shade of red but he finally stops fighting. "Fine! Fine, just give it here. I'll do it."

You hand the phone back with a satisfied smirk and watch over his shoulder as his thumbs hover nervously over the screen. After a long, shaky exhale, he taps the send button. "There," he says, sounding too breathless for someone who just sent a text. "It's sent. If he says no…just pray he doesn’t say no, Y/n."

The next minute is straight up torture. You and Jace kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed shoulder to shoulder, both of your gazes locked onto the dark screen of his phone praying to god Jungwon just replies now. When it finally vibrates, the notification banner pops up—

Jungwon: Sounds like fun, meet there?

You let out a deafening squeal, hauling yourself up on the bed to jump up and down it with enough force to make the springs groan. "Yes! Oh my god, Jace! He said yes!"

Jace stares at the screen having his mouth hanging open in sincere astonishment. "Wait, no way," he whispers, locking and opening his phone again as if he expects the text to disappear. "No way he actually wants to go."

"What do you mean no way?" you say, dropping back down and shaking his shoulder. "Jace, look at yourself. You're literally so hot! You're going to go to that party and give him that good dick." The words are out of your mouth before you can filter them and for a split second, you freeze. You stop jumping and look at him with a dead serious expression. "Wait...are you a top or a bottom?"

Jace's face turns to a beautiful red and he buries his face in his hands, letting out a muffled, embarrassed groan. "I don't know! God, Y/n, let me actually kiss a guy first before I have to figure all that out!"

He starts to laugh, the tension finally breaking as he sits on the bed and leans back on his elbows. He looks at you with a cheeky twinkle in his eyes that is usually reserved for his brother. "You know, if you think I'm so hot, that means you also think Jake is hot."

The way your smile instantly vanishes is almost comical, you scowl at him. "No. Absolutely not. That is completely different."

"How?" Jace asks, grinning now because he knows he's got you. "We're identical, remember? Same face, same hair, same everything."

"That doesn't matter," you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. "Being hot also involves having a personality and yours doesn't make me want to walk into oncoming traffic. Jake's does."

Jace laughs so hard, he's clutching his stomach and falling back onto the bed. "Hmmm, you didn't think that when you were six though," he teases, his eyes dancing with mischief. "I remember you specifically calling yourself Mrs. Jake Sim over and over, just so nobody would accidentally think you were talking about me."

"Shut up!" you yell and grab a small paperback from his nightstand to chuck at his head. He ducks just in time and the book thudding harmlessly against the wall. "I told you that in confidence, you jerk!"

Your fake anger fades quickly because you feel determined to help your best friend. "Okay, enough of that. We need a game plan," you say standing up and heading straight for his closet. "By the end of tonight, I want you tongue deep in Jungwon's mouth."

Jace winces at your words and a bashful look crossing his face. "Could you maybe...not put it like that? Please?"

Ignoring his plea, you start flicking through his hangers, tossing aside his more boring, oversized sweaters. "If we're doing this, we're doing it right. You need to look like the honors student of his dreams but you know? Approachable."

As you sift through a row of button downs, you look over your shoulder at him. "So, what is it anyway? What do you actually like about Jungwon?"

Jace quietens down and you can almost sense his expression softening into something genuine and vulnerable without even looking at him again. You can bet he's staring at his hands. "He's just...he's really observant," he says softly. "Most people just see the smart twin or the quiet one but when Jungwon talks to me, it's so different. You know he didn't even know I was a twin? He makes me feel like I'm actually being seen for who I am, not just what I am."

You stop moving just to coo at him. "Awwww Jacieee, that is literally the sweetest thing I've ever heard. Okay, now I'm even more committed. We are finding you the perfect outfit."

‎ ₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒⊹

The rooftop of the english building is alive with low indie music and the soft glow of string lights but Jace is currently vibrating at a frequency that might actually shatter glass. He is shaking so hard you can feel the tremors coming off him in waves.

"I can't do this," he hisses, his face is slick with a layer of nervous sweat that the cool night air isn't helping. He reaches for the buttons of the jacket you spent twenty minutes picking out, his fingers fumbling. "It's too hot. I'm leaving. I'm going to go home and solve some differential equations."

"Jace, stay still," you whisper, swatting his hands away from his clothes. "You look incredible. Stop trying to undress! Someone will see!"

"Why are you so nervous anyway? You've hung out with him plenty times." You're genuinely trying to understand your best friend.

"Yes! But this is the first time I did the asking!" He whisper yells. "My socks," he groans, leaning in close so only you can hear his crisis. "Y/n, they're soaked. My feet are literally swimming in sweat. It's disgusting. I'm going to slip in my own shoes and fall on him."

You open your mouth to say ew and tell him that is way more information than you needed but the heavy metal door to the rooftop creaks open.

"Oh, you're here?"

Jungwon walks in, looking effortlessly cool in a loose cardigan. He blinks and a small smile forms when he sees the two of you. "Hey, Y/n. It's nice to see you again."

"Hi, Jungwon!" you say in a tone that's a little too bright. You give Jace a sharp shove with your elbow, nearly knocking the wind out of him so he's forced to acknowledge the guy.

"H-hi," he manages but his voice a little higher than usual it makes you want to cringe and coo at the same time—poor Jace.

Jungwon gestures toward the music and the crowd of lit majors. "You guys want to move over there? It's actually not too crowded near the edge."

"Oh! You know what?" You take a dramatic step backward, checking your phone as if you just got a life altering text. "I think I see...my friend? Over there? Yeah, I definitely have to go talk to her. It's a whole thing."

Before Jace can grab your arm and drag you back into his panic, you've already started backing away and as soon as Jungwon turns his back to lead Jace toward the far corner, you catch Jace's wide and comically terrified eyes. You mouth the words calm down with exaggerated lip movements, then proceed to wrap your arms around yourself to make a ridiculous show of making out with the air to remind him what the end goal is even sticking your tongue out at flicking it for good measure.

Jace looks like he wants to die on the spot but he takes a shaky breath and follows Jungwon further into the party.

The second they walk away leaving you standing alone at the door, the adrenaline fades and the reality of your situation finally sets in. You look around the rooftop and realize that while the vibes are great, you don't actually know a single person here. You're the engineering and fanfiction girl in a sea of people debating the symbolism of some nineteenth century poetry.

So to avoid looking like a total loser, you pull out your phone and start scrolling through old texts, pretending to be deeply engaged in a conversation with absolutely no one. You're just about to consider making a break for the exit when a familiar voice cuts through the indie folk music.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

You look up and you're instantly relieved to see a familiar face—Sloane, a girl you spent three grueling weeks with last year trying to finish a group project for an elective class.

"Sloane! Hey!" You tuck your phone away, happy to have a human shield. You exchange the usual pleasantries, asking about her classes and how her pet hamster is doing. But then she randomly tilts her head and looking around. "Who did you come with? I didn't think this was really your scene," she asks with a friendly grin.

"I came with Jace," you say, nodding toward the corner where you can just barely see the back of Jace's head near Jungwon.

Sloane's eyes go wide and she beams making her whole face light up. "Really? Oh my god! Jungwon is going to be so excited!"

You feel your heart skip a beat but you lean in anyway cause your internal gossip radar pinging at max volume. "Really? Why?"

"Are you kidding?" Sloane whispers, leaning closer like she's sharing a secret. "Jungwon has had this cute little crush on Jace forever. He's been trying to figure out how to tell him for months but he was worried Jace was way too into his books to notice him."

You let out a loud gasp and grab Sloane by her arm maybe too hard. "Really?! Jace likes Jungwon too! They're literally over there together right now. That's why I'm standing here all by myself—I am the ultimate wingwoman!"

"No way!" Sloane squeals, mirroring your excitement.

In an instant, the two of you have completely abandoned any sense of cool lit major chill and now you're just two girls huddled in the corner of the roof, squealing and gushing over how perfect they are for each other, occasionally peeking over your shoulders to see if any progress is being made.

"Do you know Jace was literally vibrating. I had to tackle him and steal his phone just to get him to send the text. He was convinced Jungwon wouldn't be into him," you laugh, shaking your head as you rest against the rooftop railing.

Sloane cackles and nearly spilling her drink. "Are you serious? I was sitting with Jungwon for at least twenty minutes trying to convince him that his text wasn't too thirsty. He was so worried he sounded like he was trying too hard!"

The coincidence is almost too much to handle and when you both turn your heads at the same time to peek over towards the edge of the roof, you see Jace and Jungwon tucked away in a pair of mismatched lawn chairs in the corner, far away from the thickest part of the crowd.

Jace must have finally stopped sweating through his socks because you catch a glimpse of him saying something with that softly sincere look he gets when he's actually comfortable. Whatever he says absolutely works because Jungwon throws his head back and laughs, the string lights catch the bright spark in his eyes and Jace doesn't look away, it's like he can't, so he just watches him with a hopeful expression that makes your heart swell so much you think it could burst any moment.

"They are going to be the cutest couple on this entire campus," Sloane gushes as she clutches her chest. Then, her expression shifts slightly and she lets out a little sigh mixed with a laugh. "It's so crazy how different Jace is from his twin. I saw Jake at a party last week and...yeah. Night and day."

You immediately roll your eyes so hard it almost hurts. "Tell me about it," you groan as the image of Jake smirking on Jace's bed flashing through your mind. "Living with that guy's ego is like living next to a literal sun. He's exhausting but he's always been a total hazard."

"I heard he got banned from the library for a semester because he yelled out some obscenity his frat bros dared him to," Sloane whispers.

"That sounds like him," you mutter, glancing back at Jace who is still looking at Jungwon like he's the only person on the roof. "I honestly don't know how they share dna. Jace has the soul of a poet and Jake...Jake has the soul of a frat boy who thinks body spray is a substitute for a shower."

You start praying the topic randomly changes but instead your heat drops straight to your ass at Sloane's next words, "Oh, speak of the devil."

You turn your back to see what she's referring to and there he is, at the makeshift bar. Jake is leaning against a table and deep in conversation with some girl who looks like she's already falling for his usual routine. A wave of nausea hits you because the last thing tonight needs is Jake spotting Jace and Jungwon together, you know he's either going make a scene or find a way to ruin the moment with one of his personal jokes and Jace would probably never recover from the embarrassment.

You feel the panic rising in your chest but when you whip your head back toward the lawn chairs, the corner is empty. Before you can freak out, your phone vibrates in your hand. It's a text from—

Jace: We're heading back to my dorm. I think it's going well? See you later!

You shove the screen in front of Sloane's face and the moment she reads his text, the two of you let out another synchronized squeal. It's the ultimate victory because they left before Jake could see them.

Unfortunately, that squeal acts as a homing beacon for the one person you wanted to avoid. You can practically feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up as his familiar presence closes in and the air suddenly smells like that expensive cologne he uses to hide the fact that he probably hasn't done laundry in weeks. He completely misses the sight of Jace and Jungwon slipping through the rooftop door because his focus entirely on you.

"Well, well," Jake says in a tone that makes your skin crawl, he immediately steps into your space and ignores the way you stiffen. He lets his eyes travel down your outfit with that same look from earlier when you were giving him all the details of your sex life. "That's a very pretty dress, baby doll. What aisle of the candy store did you come from? Cause you look incredibly sweet tonight."

You scowl and let your face twist in disgust at his stupid words. "That is the worst line I have ever heard, Jake. Seriously, stop."

He doesn't even flinch at your rejection because by now your harsh words have no effect on him.

"And hello to you too, Sandra," he says smoothly.

Sloane's smile drops instantly. "It's Sloane, Jake. We had a class together for an entire semester."

Jake just shrugs, completely unbothered by the fact that he doesn't know her name and indirectly embarrassed her. "Sloane, Sandra...both beautiful, just like you. What's the difference?" He counters before turning back to you. "So, where's my boring other half? I figured if you were here, he'd be trailing behind you like a lost puppy."

"He's not here, Jake. And for the record, you are the boring one," you snap and hitch your bag higher on your shoulder. "I'm actually leaving. Why are you even here? Lit majors don't care for people like you."

Even with that, he still manages to smirk and jerk his thumb back at the girl he was talking to by the bar, a girl who is currently watching him with an expectant, slightly dazed look. "Oh, you know me," he says crudely in a way that makes you envision slapping him already. "Figured I'd try out some lit major pussy for the first time. See if they really are as deep as they pretend to be."

He even puts on this fake, wide eyed look and clutches his chest, acting like he's nervous for a big exam or something. "Think I'll pass, baby doll?"

This time, you don't even give him the satisfaction of a verbal comeback but you do give him the most disgusted look you can muster and turn on your heel, heading straight for the rooftop exit. You can hear Sloane saying a quick goodbye behind you but your main goal is putting as much distance between yourself and Jake as possible.

Except, he doesn't stay put or go back to the girl waiting for him at the bar.

"Hold on for a sec."

"Go away, Jake!" you yell over your shoulder as you hit the stairwell.

"Wait up, I'm serious," he says and his footsteps come heavier and faster behind you but you keep moving, clattering down the stairs in your platform slippers, he's incredibly persistent though. And by the time you reach the second floor landing, his tone has shifted. The teasing layer is gone and he's suddenly being weirdly flat and intense. "Y/n, stop. I actually have something important I need to ask you. Just...hold on."

You're able to make it all the way to the ground floor, your hand already on the heavy metal handle of the building's exit. You're ready to burst out into the night air and bolt but Jake is right there, reaching his hand over your head to hold the door shut.

"I'm not joking, listen to—"

You've turned to him to scream for him to leave you alone but you notice his whole body tense up and he stops mid sentence. He's looking through the glass pane of the windows by the door at the shadows of the bike racks just outside.

"What the fuck?" Jake breathes in a deep exhale.

Your heart stops when you look to see what he's looking at because there, under the yellow hum of a streetlamp, Jace has Jungwon pressed back against one of the metal racks, his hands cupping the other boy's face with a desperate type of hunger. They're kissing, scratch that, they're making out and Jace looks more alive than you've ever seen him.

The silence in the stairwell is so consuming as Jake stares at his identical twin with a look of utter shock.

The second the shock wears off and his face hardens into something unreadable, Jake doesn't hesitate, immediately lunging for the door. You scramble after him with your heart lodged in your throat and grab his arm with both hands, trying to anchor him to the spot.

"Jake, stop! Please, just leave them alone!" you plead, your voice cracking as the first sting of tears hits your eyes. "Don't ruin this for him. Just walk away, please."

He doesn't even look at you, jerking his shoulder so rough it shoves you off, you stumble back against the cold brick wall of the stairwell, watching helplessly as he hurls the door open and storms into the night. You're already crying from a mix of terror for Jace and a burning hatred for the man currently charging toward the bike racks.

"Jake, no!" you gasp, rushing out behind him as fast as your slippers will let you but you're too late.

"What the fuck, Jace?!" Jake's voice booms through the quiet courtyard, making Jace and Jungwon spring apart, their breathing heavy and their faces flushed, only for Jace's to go deathly pale the moment he sees his brother standing there. He looks like he just got punched in the stomach, his hands immediately start trembling near Jungwon's shoulders as he stares at his brother.

"Jake..." Jace's voice is barely audible.

"Are you serious right now?" Jake steps closer, his posture aggressive and looming. "You're gay? You've been playing this whole honors student part while you're out here kissing dudes? Lying to our parents?" Jake goes on and on.

"So all those girls you liked but never dated in high school were just cover ups, right?"

"Why didn't you say anything?"

You finally reach them and throw yourself between the twins, pressing your hands against Jake's chest to shove him back. "Jake, shut up! Stop it right now!" you sob, willing your vision to stop blurring with tears. "This isn't the time or place. Leave him alone!"

But Jake doesn't budge, he's just a wall of muscle and misplaced anger now, looking over your head to stare directly into his brother's terrified eyes. Jace is frozen, too shocked to even defend himself because his worst nightmare unfolding in the middle of a campus sidewalk while Jungwon stands there, looking back and forth between the identical faces in total confusion.

You really have no idea how Jace will react, what he will say so you're shocked when he laughs but it sounds so bitter. He looks at the brother who shares his exact face but none of his heart and his eyes turn to ice.

"Wow," Jace spits. "You find out your brother is gay and your first instinct isn't to wonder why I was too scared to tell you. It's to accuse me of living a lie because it bruises your pathetic ego."

"You truly are a vile excuse for a human being, Jake. I've spent twenty two years sharing your face and every day I wake up wishing I could tear it off just so I don't have to look like someone so completely devoid of anything decent. You're not my fucking brother. You're just a mistake that happened four minutes before me."

Before Jake can even blink or think of anything to say, Jace grabs Jungwon's hand and pulls him into a run, disappearing into the shadows of the campus buildings.

"Jace! Wait!" You scream in a sob, trying to go after them but your foot catches on the edge of the bike rack and go down hard, scraping the skin right off your knees against the pavement.

The pain is sharp and hot and as you wince, Jake reaches down with shaking hands trying to grab your shoulders. "Shit! Y/n, let me—"

"Don't you fucking touch me!" you shriek, shoving his hands away with enough force to make him stumble. You scramble to your feet, simultaneously ignoring the blood beginning to trickle down your legs.

Blinded by rage and heartbreak for your best friend, you launch yourself at his brother, slamming your palms into his chest. You hit him, slap at his arms in wild movements fueled by a lifetime of suppressed anger. "You want to know why your brother never told you?!" you yell, the sound echoing off the brick walls. "It's because you're a selfish, black hearted asshole!" One of your slaps lands directly on his cheek.

"You're so fucking obsessed with yourself that you couldn't let him have one goddamn second of happiness without making it about your own confusion. You are the reason he's been living in a cage, Jake! He's terrified of you because everything you touch turns to rot and he didn't want you rotting this, too!"

You shove him one last time, your voice dropping to a hiss. "You're like this shadow he's been trying to outrun since we were kids. I hate you. I think I've always hated you."

Jake's face contorts when the words hit his ears, his jaw tightens as he stares at you with a look that's both furious and heartbroken at the same time. "You don't mean that," he growls but his voice cracks. "You're just upset because you're bleeding and tired. You don't actually hate me."

You let out a harsh laugh right in his face, "Oh, I fucking mean it, Jake! I mean every single word. Do you really think anyone loves the real you? People like the idea of you. They like the guy who buys the drinks and throws the parties, the guy who has no problem spending his daddy’s money on them but the second the lights go up and they see the shallow hollow mess underneath, they all run."

You step closer, ignoring the stinging in your knees to look him dead in the eye. "It is honestly fucking ridiculous how much you pride yourself on being the better twin. Look at Jace. He's so kind, so brilliant and so capable of caring about someone other than himself. And you’re just a cheap copy of a much better man."

"Stop it, Y/n," he mutters but you can see his hands shaking at his sides.

"Why should I? It's the truth!" you laugh again. "Isn't it just so crazy? You walk around acting like you're the prize but the only thing actually good about you is the fact that you share half your dna with Jace. Without him to balance you out, you're just a hedonistic frat guy with a pretty face that nobody is going to want to look at in five years. You're nothing, Jake. You're less than nothing."

You turn your back on him and every step is a sharp reminder of the gravel now embedded in your skin. You limp away, the salt from your tears stinging the small cuts in your palm as you wipe your tears. Crying because the secret your best friend spent years protecting was ripped open in the most violent way possible.

Somehow you’re not surprised when Jake gets in his car and starts creeping along the curb beside you.

He rolls the passenger window down. "Y/n, please just get in the car," he calls out to you in a frustrated but also strangely concerned tone. "Your knees are literally dripping blood. Just get in. I'll just drop you off, I swear I won’t say a thing."

"I'd rather get abducted and sold into human trafficking than sit in a confined space with you," you say without even looking at him.

He huffs and actually pulls over to hop out of the car. He tries to reach for your elbow lightly, like he’s afraid you’ll slap him again.

"Come on, you're shaking. You can barely stand. Let me just help you walk? Or at least let me hold you up until we get to the dorms."

You recoil as if his skin is made of fire, nearly losing your balance. "Please don’t touch me, Jake. I’m so tired of you."

He looks at you with wide eyes wide, trying to coax you with that soft, manipulative tone he always uses to get his way. "Baby doll, look at me. I fucked up, okay? I'm an asshole, I’m everything you said and you’re so right about me. But don't hurt yourself more just to spite me. Please."

You ignore him, focusing only on the rhythm of your limp and when he finally gets the hint, he gets back into his car and just drives slowly behind you. The whole twenty minute walk to the honors housing—he’s right behind you, lighting the road with his headlights until the brick facade of the honors housing building comes into view and you limp all the way into it. That’s when he finally floors it, the screech of his tires echoes through the empty street as he speeds off into the night.

The walk up the stairs is a special kind of hell, every step upward pulls at the scabs already forming on your knees and by the time you reach Jace's door, you're lightheaded from the pain but you still knock and wait.

When the door swings open, the sight breaks what's left of your heart. Jace looks absolutely destroyed, his eyes are swollen and bloodshot, his face is an angry red from crying. Behind him, Jungwon is sitting at the desk with his head in his hands, looking so small and upset that he looks like he's on the verge of a breakdown himself.

"Oh, Jace," you whisper, your voice breaking. "I'm so, so sorry."

You reach forward and wrap your arms around his middle and pulling him close. He immediately collapses into you, burying his heavy weight into you as he lets out a sob into your shoulder and all you can do is just hold him, whispering apologies over and over into his hair as he finally lets the terror of the night out.

The sound of Jungwon clearing his throat reaches you through the wet sounds of Jace's sobbing. Jace pulls back just enough to look toward the desk, his hands still clutching the sleeves of your cardigan as if he might fall over if he lets go. Jungwon stands up cautiously, with so much quiet sadness in his eyes for the boy who just had his entire world dismantled on a sidewalk.

"I'm going to head out," Jungwon says, his voice steady despite the visible tremor in his hands. He walks over, stepping into the small circle of light near the door and reaches out to gently take one of Jace's hands. "Listen, Jace. I really like you, like…a lot. That hasn't changed because of...anything that happened tonight."

Jace lets out a shaky breath, searching Jungwon's face for any sign of pity or regret but all he finds is only warmth.

"I understand if this is going to slow things down for us," Jungwon continues, stroking the back of Jace's knuckles with his thumb. "I know this is a lot. It's huge. And I'm ready to wait until you have it all figured out with your family and your brother. You don't have to rush into anything for me."

Your heart literally aches in your chest at his words. It feels so unfair that after finally finding someone who sees him for who he truly is, Jace has to put his happiness on hold because of Jake's selfishness. They shouldn't have to wait, they should be allowed to just be two college students enjoying a night out, not navigating a family crisis.

Jungwon leans in then, cupping Jace's tear stained face and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before moving down to his lips. It's a quiet kiss but it’s so full of a promise that isn't going anywhere.

"Please don't cry anymore," Jungwon whispers against his skin. "I'll text you tomorrow, okay? Just breathe."

With one last supportive squeeze of Jace's hand, he gives you a quick hug and slips out the door. The click of the lock seems to echo in the sudden silence of the room and Jace stands there for a moment, staring at the wood of the door, looking smaller and more fragile than you've ever seen him in all the years you've been friends.

The adrenaline that kept you walking through the pain finally vanishes and leaves both of you standing in the middle of the room, with broken hearts and bleeding knees, wondering how everything went so wrong so fast. You sit on the bed and when he follows suit, you immediately reach for his hand.

"I hate him so much," he whispers and you almost catch the words so over the hum of the air conditioner.

He twists his hands together over and over. "I hate that I share his face. I hate that I have to look in the mirror every morning and see the person who just destroyed the only thing that made me feel like I wasn't just a collection of grades and expectations."

When he abruptly turns to face you, his knee bumps yours and you gasp in pain, making him look down. "Oh fuck. Y/n, your knees," he breathes, his own grief momentarily eclipsed by horror. "Did he—Did Jake do that to you?"

"No," you say, your voice cracking as you look down at all the dried blood. "I fell trying to catch up to you. He tried to help, but I wouldn't let him."

Jace pulls himself together enough to stand up and grab his first aid kit from under the bed. He's always prepared like that—the exact opposite of Jake, who probably doesn't even own a band aid. He kneels on the floor, his hands still a little shaky as he begins to gently dab at the gravel and dried blood on your knees with an antiseptic wipe.

"He's going to tell them, isn't he? He's going to tell our parents. He can't keep a secret to save his life, especially not one that makes him feel like he has leverage."

You reach down and run your fingers through his hair, trying to provide him with some kind of anchor in the middle of his storm. "If he does, we'll handle it. But Jace, look at what Jungwon said. He's staying. You're not alone in this anymore."

"I really just wanted one thing for myself," Jace sighs, continuing to clean your wounds. "Just one part of my life that wasn't shadowed by him or lived for someone else's approval. And he took it. He took it and he made it ugly."

He takes a cotton ball soaks with some rubbing alcohol. "This is gonna hurt," he murmurs but you can tell he's the one trying to focus.

"Forget that," you say even though you nearly scream when the ball hits your raw skin. "Talk to me about the rooftop. Before the disaster happened...how was it? Tell me everything about you and Jungwon."

Jace pauses with a mew cotton ball in his hand and for a second the devastation in his expression lifts. A shy smile breaks through his tear stained face and he ducks his head, looking down at your knees to hide his expression.

"I really, really like him, Y/n," he admits with a voice that has lost that jagged edge of despair. "He's so easy to talk to. We sat there for an hour just talking about movies and his architecture stuff and it felt like...I don't know, like I didn't even have to filter myself."

"I knew it!" you chirp, trying to keep the mood light. You lean back on your elbows, completely forgetting the throbbing in your legs. "So, come on, give me the details. Who initiated the kiss? Was it you, Mr. risk taker?"

Jace's entire face turns a beautiful shade of pink, the blush spreads all the way to the tips of his ears. "No," he mumbles, carefully placing a large bandage over your right knee. "It was Jungwon but…it wasn't even like it came out of nowhere. I—uh I kind of walked right into it."

"Explain. Now."

He lets out this sheepish laugh as he pulls out another bandage. "He asked me why I was shaking so much, if I was just cold or something. And I meant to say I was just a little overwhelmed, but my brain kinda did this weird thing. I looked at him and said yeah, well, hot guys make me nervous."

You let out a scream, even though Jace groans in embarrassment. "You didn't!"

"I did," he says, hiding his face in his hands for a second. "I realized what I said immediately and wanted to sink into the ground but he just laughed and told me I was plenty hot too, then he just...kissed me. I swear it was the best four minutes of my life, Y/n. Until I heard Jake's voice."

He sighs but the blush is still there like a small flicker of warmth in the middle of a cold night. "At least I know it's real. Jake might’ve ruined the moment but it doesn’t take away the fact that Jungwon called me hot."

Jace's hands go still as he finishes taping the final bandage. The brief smile vanishes as he stares at the floor. "I should probably tell my parents before Jake can get to them. I need to be the one to say it." Jace says quietly.

"You're right," you agree, nodding firmly despite the exhaustion deep in your bones. "He could do it tomorrow when he drives back for that dinner. You just have to get there first. Go before Jake even has a chance to pull into the driveway."

Jace looks up at you with pleading vulnerable eyes. "Will you come with me? Please? I don't think I can stand in that house and face them—or him—alone."

You feel a physical wave of revulsion hit you at the mere thought of being near Jake again. "Jace, I love you," you say. "You know I'd do almost anything for you. But I don't think I can see Jake right now. To be honest, after all the things I said to him tonight? I think I’ll just make things worse. If I see his face, I'm going to start screaming again and that's the last thing you need during a family talk."

Jace sighs and his shoulders slump but he nods in understanding. He knows you're right, the air between you and his twin is currently pure poison.

"I get it," he agrees, rubbing his tired eyes. "I just...I don't know how I'm going to look at him without thinking about how he tried to ruin the best thing that's happened to me in years."

"You won't look at him," you say, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "You'll look at your parents, you'll tell your truth and then you'll remember that Jungwon is waiting for you back here. Jake is just noise, Jace. Loud, very selfish noise."

Jace rests his heavy head on your thighs, finally letting his muscles relax as you slowly run your fingers through his hair. He lets out a long, shaky sigh that seems to vibrate against your legs, the quiet of the dorm room is finally settling in around you when he suddenly blurts something out.

"It was so hot, Y/n."

You pause your hand in his hair cause you’re startled by the jarring shift in his tone. He's staring at the wall now, even though his head is still in your lap, you can see his face warming in a way that puts his earlier blush to shame.

"I was literally trying so hard not to moan when he grabbed the back of my neck," he confesses, in both awe and embarrassment. "And then... I totally popped a boner. I'm so sure he felt it, too."

A laugh slips out of you but Jace isn't finished, groaning and burying his face deeper into your lap. "The whole time, that comment you made about who was going to be the top or the bottom just kept looping in my head," he mumbles, his voice muffled. "I was standing there thinking—Oh gosh, if things actually get that far tonight, what am I even doing? Am I topping? Am I bottoming?—I didn't even have a plan for that part of the game plan."

"Jace!" you gasp, all delighted that he's finally sharing the scandalous details. "Not the full on identity crisis in the middle of a make out session." You laugh harder.

"I couldn't help it!" he defends himself, peeking up at you with a pout. "I was too focused on not passing out from how good he tasted that when my brain started asking about logistics, my body panicked."

Despite the tragedy of the night, seeing your best friend this flustered over the actual mechanics of his crush makes him feel a little more like the Jace you know—always overthinking everything, including the best kiss of his life.

"Since you were so focused on not passing out...what did he actually taste like?" You ask, giving his hair a playful little tug to pull him out of his spiral,

Jace goes quiet for a second, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling as he actually takes a moment to process the memory. A foggy look washes over his face and he lets out an almost mortified little laugh before looking back at you.

"Like peaches and cream," he whispers so innocently.

The silence in the room hangs for exactly half a second before you both burst into a fit of laughter, your shoulders shaking so hard it jars your injured knees. "Peaches and cream?!" you shriek, clutching your stomach. "Jace, oh my god. That is the corniest, fanfiction level thing I have ever heard in my life!"

"I'm serious!" he protests, making his face turn an even darker shade of red as he tries to hide his smile. "He had this lip balm on or maybe it was his drink, I don't know! It was sweet and soft and that's just what came to mind."

"You are such a hopeless romantic," you tease, wiping a stray tear of laughter from your eye. "Peaches and cream. Next, you're going to tell me his eyes were shimmering like the morning dew or something."

"Shut up," he makes like he’s going to hit your knee before shoving his face back into your lap to hide his grin. "I can't help it if the guy tastes like a dessert."

"A dessert you wanna devour," you tease making him shake his head from side to side like he’s trying to shake out the image you’ve put in his head.

As you sit there stroking Jace's hair, his comments fade into the background of your mind and a bitter taste of old memories take their place. This isn't the first time Jake has taken a moment of joy and turned it into something horrible. He's been a horrible person since you've known him, always needing to be the loudest and cruelest person in the room.

Your mind drifts back to junior prom. Jace had asked you to be his date, promising and swearing on heaven and earth that it wasn’t out of pity but because you were best friends and he genuinely wanted to spend the night with you. At the time, your skin was a constant map of acne and your mouth was a mess of metal braces. You felt like a project, instead of a princess but your mom had found a soft, shimmering baby pink dress that made you feel almost pretty and Jace had carefully pinned a corsage to your wrist that matched the fabric perfectly.

The three of you were standing in the foyer of the Sim house, their mom was fussing with a camera and beaming about how handsome her boys looked and how lovely you were. Jace was smiling at you, making you feel like an actual princess, like you actually belonged in a ballroom.

Then Jake opened his mouth, you remember how he leaned against the banister and looked you up and down with a sneer that almost made you start shaking. "Wow, mom," he'd dragged out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I didn't know the local zoo was doing a shave the sheep fundraiser tonight. Is that why she's wearing so much glitter? To distract us from the fact that her dress is holding on for dear life? Honestly, Jace, I know you're the charitable twin but taking the before picture to prom is a new low even for you."

You remember how the room had gone deathly silent, Mrs Sim had gasped and Jace had immediately started shouting at his brother but the damage was done. Every time you looked in the mirror after the dance, all you saw was the before picture. Your confidence had plummeted drastically after that, if Jake thought he’d just ruined your night, he was wrong cause he’d managed to ruin your body image perception for years. All because he couldn't stand to see someone else—especially his boring brother—being happy.

Looking down at Jace now, you realize he's been fighting the same monster his whole life. Jake doesn't just ruin nights—he ruins the people themselves.

The memory of that night still leaves a sour feeling in the pit of your stomach, even years later. Mrs Sim hadn't let it slide though, the second those words left Jake's mouth, her face had turned a shade of red that rivaled your own blush and she had immediately grounded him for the next month, stripping away his car keys right there in the foyer. But the discipline didn't matter to you then because the sting of his words had already sunk in too deep.

Jace had been so patient with you that night, his hands hovering near your shoulders as you stood by the front door with tears threatening to spill over. "Please, Y/n, don't cry," he had begged, his voice soft and desperate. He wasn't being dismissive, he was trying to save the one thing he knew you'd spent hours on. "If you start now, it'll ruin your makeup and you looked so happy when you finished it. Don't let him take that away from you. You look so beautiful, I swear it."

He had spent the next twenty minutes distracting you with stupid jokes until your breathing finally evened out, showing the same kind of protective loyalty he still shows today. It's a pattern you recognize now—Jace spending his life trying to patch up the holes Jake rips into people. You continue to rub your hand through his hair, realizing that while your appearance has changed a lot since that prom, the dynamic between the three of you hasn't shifted an inch. Jake is still the wrecking ball and Jace is still the one left standing in the debris with you.

The rest of the weekend felt like a heart wrenching countdown, you hadn't even bothered going back to your own room that Friday night, crashing on Jace's bed right next to him seemed like the appropriate thing to do, the two of you talked in exhausted murmurs until the early hours of the morning.

When his alarm went off at exactly six in the morning, the room was still gray and Jace was a ghost of himself, pale and agonizingly silent as he threw a few things into his duffel bag. He had to beat Jake and be the one to set the narrative before his brother could twist it into something ugly. You watched from the window as his car pulled out of the lot and his taillights disappeared into the morning mist, then you spent the next three hours pacing your own dorm room, completely unable to sit still.

Then when your phone buzzed with a video call request from Jace, you swiped with a shaky hand to see him sitting at his parent's kitchen table. The camera was propped up against a fruit bowl or something, giving you a clear view of both him and his parents even though he was a little cut off, you could tell they were concerned but trying to keep calm. Jace's face was a mess, his eyes were already rimmed with red and his hands were shaking so violently on the tabletop that he had to clasp them together.

"Mom...Dad..." His voice was a thin thread that threatened to snap at any second. "I...I have to tell you something. I've been...so scared to say it because I didn't want anything to change but I can't keep it inside anymore. I'm...I'm gay."

The silence on the other end of the line felt like it lasted a century, it lasted so long that Jace let out a sob that sounded like he was choking and dropping his head as he waited for the blow to fall, like he was waiting for his life to officially be over.

But that never came.

You saw his mother immediately stand up and move around the table, she gathered her son's head against her chest, stroking his hair exactly the way you had the night before.

"Oh, my sweet sweet boy," she whispered, her own voice thick with emotion. "I knew. We always knew. We were just waiting for you to be ready to tell us."

Jace's dad leaned forward, his expression soft and pained. "Jaejun, why were you so scared? Did you really think we wouldn't love you the same? Why did you carry this for so long by yourself?"

"I didn't want to be another issue for you guys," Jace sobbed into his mother's apron. "With everything Jake does...I just wanted to be the perfect son. I didn't want to disappoint you."

Hearing that confession broke something inside you all over again as you sat on the edge of your bed with tears streaming down your face in silent solidarity. The relief was like a physical weight lifting off your chest—Jace was finally safe, he was finally his true self in the one place he had always felt he had to perform.

His mother looked up and finally noticed your face on the screen. "Oh Y/n, my love. Is that you?" she asked with a watery smile.

"Hi, Mrs. Sim," you managed to say, wiping your eyes and waving weakly. "I'm so happy for him."

"We are too, dear," she said. "Thank you for looking after him."

Jace pulled back and wiped his nose with his sleeve before giving you a look of nothing but gratitude. "I'll call you when I get back to campus tonight," he whispered. "I love you, Y/n."

"Love you too, Jace. Go be with them."

The call ended and you were left in your suddenly very quiet room, you spent the rest of your Sunday buried in your textbooks, the words had finally started to make sense now that the static of Jace's secret was gone. For the first time in a long time, the world felt like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.

Things fell back into place barely two days after that and by Wednesday afternoon when you’re sat at a table with Jace and Jungwon in the dining hall, they’re pretty much in their own bubble, leaning so close to each other that their shoulders are pinned together. Jungwon is whispering something into Jace's ear that makes Jace duck his head and actually giggle.

"Okay, look," you say, propping your chin on your hand and giving them a fake disgusted look. "You guys are adorable, really. It's sickening. But can you please stop rubbing your new love in my face while I'm trying to eat this subpar pasta? My eyes are bleeding."

Jungwon laughs and you watch his eyes crinkle at the corners but he does lean back, finally giving Jace some breathing room. "Honestly, Y/n, I really can't understand how you're still single. I've sat in the library and heard guys talking about how gorgeous you are. You could have your pick of anyone on campus."

Jace turns to Jungwon with a teasing smirk on his face. "Oh, don't let her fool you. She's a hopeless romantic but she has these impossibly high standards, which she should obviously but the second a guy trips up or shows a hint of a red flag, she cuts them off immediately. Total ghost protocol."

"Hey, it's not my fault most guys just want to fuck anyway," you add with a shrug, making them both laugh. "I'm not interested in being someone's weekend project."

You're all laughing, it really feels like the vibes finally light and normal again but that’s when you catch a glimpse of someone standing a few feet behind Jace and your smile falters.

It's Jake.

It's the first time you've seen him since that night and for a moment, you don't even recognize him. The cocky, golden boy glow is completely gone and he looks like a total mess, wearing a wrinkled and stained hoodie with his hair is unwashed and even from here, you swear you can see the heavy bags under his eyes. He's also very pale, in a way that actually unnerves you and his eyes look bloodshot and sunken. A small flicker of worry pricks at your chest but you’re quick to brush it off, reminding yourself of how he acted just a few days ago.

When your eyes catch his and he realizes you've spotted him, he doesn't smirk or offer some rude catcall. He just walks up to the table with his eyes entirely set on Jace, not even bothering to look at you or Jungwon.

"Jace," he says in a voice that’s devoid of its usual bravado. "Can we talk? Just real quick. Somewhere else."

Jace stiffens and his hand instinctively reaches for Jungwon's under the table. "Why couldn't you just call me, Jake? Or wait until I was at the dorm?"

Jake lets out a breath that sounds more like a wheeze. "I've been texting you for days, Jace. You haven't responded once. I...I really need to talk to you."

The lack of an argument or a snarky comeback is the most alarming part and it hits you like whiplash. Jace looks at you, then at Jungwon before letting out a defeated sigh. "Fine. Five minutes."

He stands up and follows Jake towards a far corner of the dining hall, where there are less people. You watch their retreating backs, noting how Jace's is rigid and very defensive while Jake's is slumped and almost defeated. Even though the villain of the story looks like he's finally been defeated, you can't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Something is and feels very, very wrong.

Jungwon notices the way you're staring in the direction they’re in with your fork hovering aimlessly over your plate and he reaches over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, don't overthink it. It's probably just sibling stuff. They probably just need to yell at each other for a few minutes and get it out of their systems."

You nod slowly, trying to force the image of Jake's red eyes out of your mind. "Yeah. You're right. It's just...Jake didn't even look like Jake."

"Let’s focus on something else," Jungwon says, effortlessly pivoting the conversation. "Sloane's birthday is this weekend, remember? She's doing this big dinner on Friday and then after that, all the girls are heading to that club downtown. She really wants you there but she realized she lost your number after that project ended. She told me to make sure you were coming."

The mention of a night out with Sloane and some girls is exactly the distraction you need. You immediately beam as your excitement bubbling up. "Oh, I am so there! I haven't been out in forever. I need a reason to wear something sexy."

"I figured," Jungwon grins, sliding his phone across the table toward you. "Here, take her number and text her so she can add you to the group chat or something. She's already planning the pre game."

As you're typing the digits into your phone, you start to hear Jace’s footsteps as he makes his way back to the table looking very annoyed—his jaw is set tight and he's shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Everything okay?" Jungwon asks softly.

Jace just nods and drops back into his seat with a heavy thud. "Fine. Just Jake being Jake," he says but the words feel like he practiced them for you. He picks up his water glass but he doesn't drink and he starts looking at you and it’s not in his usual just admiring you way. It’s a weird and searching look, even a little hesitant but it makes the hair in your arms stand up. He keeps glancing at you, then quickly looking away the second you catch his eye, then looking back again.

"Jace?" you finally ask, setting your phone down. "What's wrong? You're looking at me like I've got a third head. Did Jake say something?"

Jace blinks, tearing his eyes away from you so fast he nearly knocks over his water glass. "No," he insists too hastily like he doesn’t even want you to think of Jake saying anything that would matter. "Seriously, it's nothing. Just Jake being a dramatic idiot as usual."

Before you can press him on it, he turns sharply to Jungwon, his knuckles whitening as he grips his fork. "Did you...did you tell her about Sloane's birthday yet? The dinner this Friday?"

"Yeah, just did," Jungwon replies, looking between the two of you with a curious lift of his brow. "She's already getting Sloane's number from my phone."

"Good. That's good," Jace murmurs, nodding rapidly. "You should definitely go, Y/n. You need a fun night out."

The knot in your stomach tightens again. You know Jace is usually a terrible liar but right now he seems to be vibrating with whatever secret Jake just dropped in his lap. The way he keeps avoiding your eyes feels heavy and almost protective, like he's trying to shield you from something.

Jungwon seems to want to ease the awkwardness settling over the table, he shifts in his seat and attempts to break the tension. "Hey, I just noticed," he says with a warm smile as he points a finger toward your collarbone. "You always have that gold necklace on every time I see you. It's really beautiful, Y/n."

You’re a little caught off guard by the sudden redirection but your posture soon relaxes and you beam, your fingers flying up to habitually trace the delicate gold charm resting warm against your skin. "Oh, thank you! Jace actually got it for me a while back."

Beside him, Jace cocks his head and his brow furrowing in blank confusion as he stares down at the jewelry. "I did? When?"

You let out a loud scoff before rolling your eyes dramatically at him. "Are you serious right now? You don't even remember? Wow, your memory is horrific, Jace. I literally wear it almost every single day."

It was the morning of your eighteenth birthday, it was also the bittersweet summer just before you all packed up to start college. You had woken up to a house smelling like your favorite pancakes but when you went back to your bedroom to change, you found it sitting right there on your unmade bed. A small box wrapped in deep red velvet and propped up against it was a cream colored card. There was no grand speech or birthday essay, just three words written in a hurried script—From J. Happy 18th.

When you snapped the velvet box open, the delicate gold chain had caught the morning sunlight and gleamed perfectly against the white satin lining. You had figured back then that he was just too shy to give it to you in person or maybe he didn't want to make a massive deal out of it in front of your family and friends. It was so classic Jace, so thoughtful and entirely lowkey. 

You shake your head, laughing it off as you snap back to the present, giving him a playful pout. "Anyway, since you clearly have the memory of a goldfish, let’s just move on, I'm definitely going to Sloane's birthday dinner."

You’ve already decided to let it all go, if Jace wanted you to know about Jake, he'd tell you.

"And you two better not ruin my vibe by being all attached at the hip if you come to the pre game."

Jungwon scoffs playfully, shoving Jace's shoulder. "Hey, I can be independent! Jace is the clingy one."

"I am not!" Jace protests, his cheeks flushing as he finally lets out a real laugh.

Just like that, the heavy shadow Jake left behind begins to dissipate again, melting back into the comforting clatter of the dining hall. You fall back into your breezy conversation, arguing over who has the worst taste in music and planning what you're going to wear on Friday night and willfully ignoring the sinking feeling that the other shoe is just about to drop.

Friday came quicker than you anticipated, probably because after the unsettling tension of Wednesday afternoon, the rest of the week had crashes into a montage of lectures and late night studying. But now it was the night of Sloane's birthday dinner and your dorm room looked a mess from you digging through your closet.

Meanwhile, your bed had been completely hijacked. With your back turned to the room as you desperately rifled through your closet, you could hear the unmistakable sounds of Jace and Jungwon behind you. The rustle of sheets mixed with soft murmurs and the distinct, wet smacking of their lips as they kissed. It was like they physically could not keep their hands off each other for more than thirty seconds.

"I love that you guys are happy but I am begging you to stop procreating on my comforter while I'm in the middle of a crisis," you groaned, throwing another hanger onto the floor in defeat.

You officially gave up, so in a dramatic display of frustration, you threw your hands in the air and let your body collapse backward, laying flat on the cold floor in just your bra and panties.

"I'm not going," you announced to the ceiling before letting out a miserable groan. "I can't find a single thing to wear. You guys should just leave without me, go have fun and let me rot in peace."

From the bed, Jungwon let out a loud laugh. You heard him sit up from between Jace’s legs and when you rolled your head over to look at them, he was leaning on his elbows, staring down at you on the floor.

"I know I said this before," Jungwon said, shaking his head with a grin, "but Y/n, your body is fucking insane. Seriously. If I did girls, I swear I'd be all up on you right now."

"Hey!" Jace immediately piped up, his voice spiking with a funny combo of mock offense and protective best friend energy as he swatted Jungwon's arm.

"I said if!" Jungwon defended himself, laughing and lifting his hands in retreat. "I'm just appreciating the view! She looks amazing."

Their ridiculousness finally cracked your bad mood and you sat up, crossing your legs on the carpet before offering Jungwon a playful hair flip. "Thank you, Jungwon," you said, sending a smug look in Jace's direction. "At least someone in this room appreciates the effort it takes to look this hopelessly single."

Jace rolls his eyes playfully, leaning over to drape his arm over Jungwon's shoulders. "Oh, please. Don't let Jungwon feed your drama. You have plenty of clothes. What about that black two piece?"

You blink up at him from the floor. "Which one?"

"The one you wore to that lounge downtown like three months ago," Jace says, pointing a finger at you like a detective solving a case. "I literally remember because I had to play bodyguard the entire night. Three different guys at the bar approached you within the first hour of us getting there. One of them literally choked on his drink when you walked past."

A lightbulb instantly goes off in your head. "Oh my god," you gasp, jumping up from the carpet. "Jace, you are an absolute genius."

You dive back into the depths of your closet, tossing aside a few stray cardigans and tops until your fingers finally brush against the familiar, sleek fabric of the two piece. It's perfect.

You quickly slip into the outfit, smoothing the skirt down over your hips and adjusting the top in your full length mirror. Turning around, you strike a dramatic pose for your audience of two. "Well? Does the bodyguard approve?"

Both boys look up and right on cue, they nod in total satisfaction. Jace looks like he’s proud of his own styling skills, while Jungwon lets out a low whistle, shifting back against your pillows with a grin.

"Yeah, definitely that one," Jungwon says, giving you a lazy smirk. "That's hot. Sloane is going to lose her mind."

"Finally. Can we go?" Jace asks, getting up from the bed and taking Jungwon’s hand in his.

"We are getting trashhh-ed, we are getting loose, no more books, just cranberry and booze!" you belt out at the top of your lungs as you step out of the room, doing a ridiculous, little shuffle right down the middle of the dorm hallway. You toss a dramatic hip shake into the choreography, the heels of your knee length boots clicking against the linoleum.

"Sloane is turning older and I am looking fly, if a frat boy breathes near me I am gonna make him cry!"

Behind you, Jace and Jungwon start losing it over your rap. "Oh my god, please lower your voice, the RA is going to write us up before we even hit the lobby," Jace wheezes, pressing a hand over his mouth as his shoulders shake with laughter. He jogs a few steps to catch up, playfully nudging your shoulder.

"Don't listen to him, Y/n, it's a lyrical masterpiece," Jungwon hypes you up from a few feet back, pulling out his phone to record your makeshift victory lap. He's grinning from ear to ear, clearly entertained by the striking difference between your stunning outfit and your chaotic energy.

"Give us another verse!" Jungwon challenges, keeping his phone camera pointed right at you as he jogs a couple steps to keep up with your backward walking pace.

You don't even hesitate before you drop your voice an octave, adopt a ridiculously serious facial expression and point a finger gun directly at his camera lens. "Pop the bottles at the table, yeah we doing it right, Jungwon's paying for the drinks so we can party all night!"

Jace lets out a loud gasp, slapping his hand against the wall as he cracks up. "Oh, shit! She got you!"

Jungwon drops his phone slightly, his eyes widening in a mix of genuine surprise and amusement. "Yo, hold on, that actually went hard," he says, nodding his head to an imaginary beat while Jace cheers you on. Jungwon steps up beside you, looking impressed by your quick wit. "The flow? Y/n, be honest with me, have you ever considered a career in rapping? Because I think you just found your true calling."

₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒⊹

Jake Sim has a lot of problems in his life, for example there's his absolute joke of his grades, his mountain of unread texts from people who only want him for his car or his fake ID and there's also soul crushing fact that his twin brother thinks he's a raging homophobe. But his absolute worst problem was the fact that girl he was completely and painfully head over heels in love with absolutely hated his fucking guts and honestly why wouldn’t you?

He didn't always mean to be a monster, it just always came out that way whenever he got within five feet of you, like a defense mechanism he'd perfected over years of watching you look at Jace like he hung the fucking moon.

For years, Jake had been trapped in his own head, completely convinced that you and Jace had a secret thing going on. You were always whispering with his twin, always sharing looks he couldn't quite catch, always a single unit. It was the exact reason he'd never confessed or ever opened up all these years, he simply couldn't face the humiliation of competing with his perfect brother for your heart. So instead, he played the role of the obnoxious guy cause it was easier to be hated for a fake persona than rejected for who he actually was.

The night of the lit major mixer while he was leaning against a makeshift table by the bar and running his mindless routine on some girl whose name he hadn't even caught. He wasn't paying attention to her, already bored of her giggles and pathetic attempts at flirting. His eyes were scanning the room looking for something or someone else more entertaining and that's when he spotted you standing with your friend.

You looked incredibly sweet, you always did in a way that always tugged at his heart. Your dress, the way your hair was styled, the sight of you landed like a hammer against his ribs, you were so beautiful in a way that made him feel that familiar, pathetic ache all over again. Then he heard you and your friend let out a synchronized squeal over a phone, you looked so happy and it couldn't help but want to be in your space immediately. So he abandoned the girl at the bar without a second thought, he moved into your space while he masked his pounding heart with his trademark smirk.

"Well, well," he said, stepping directly into your personal bubble, ignoring how you instantly stiffened. "That's a very pretty dress, baby doll. What aisle of the candy store did you come from? Cause you look incredibly sweet tonight."

Your face twisted in total disgust as usual. "That is the worst line I have ever heard, Jake. Seriously, stop."

He didn't flinch, definitely used to the lashings by now. He offered a smooth "And hello to you too, Sandra" to your friend, completely unbothered when she corrected him that her name was Sloane. He shrugged it off, eager to get back to the only person he cared about. "Sloane, Sandra...both beautiful, just like you. What's the difference?"

"So, where's my boring other half? I figured if you were here, he'd be trailing behind you like a lost puppy."

"He's not here, Jake. And for the record, you are the boring one," you snapped, ditching him to head straight for the exit.

Panic immediately spread in his chest, he didn't want you to leave, he was desperate and something in him told him he'd never get you alone without Jace like this again. But when you asked him why he was even here, his brain scrambled and all he could throw out was a crude comment, jerking his thumb toward the bar girl and making a vile joke about trying out lit major pussy, just to see if it would get a rise out of you. It worked but not the way he wanted. You looked at him, repulsed and swiveled to bolt down the stairwell.

"Hold on for a sec," he called out to you, his teasing facade shifting a little.

"Go away, Jake!" you yelled back.

"Wait up, I'm serious," he pleaded, his heavy boots clattering down the concrete stairs behind your platform slippers. By the second floor landing, the smug layer was entirely gone and he was completely desperate. "Y/n, stop. I actually have something important I need to ask you. Just...hold on." He needed to know, needed to finally ask if you and Jace were actually together because the uncertainty had started to eat at him.

You made it to the ground floor, your hand slamming onto the heavy metal handle of the exit door. Jake lunged forward, throwing his hand over your head to hold the door shut, trapping you. "I'm not joking, listen to—" But his eyes shifted to the glass and his words deserted him. He didn't need to ask you anything because his answer was right there just through the door, in the form of his twin brother pinning a guy to the bike racks and kissing him with such fervor.

"What the fuck?" Jake breathed out in a deep exhale and a massive puzzle slammed together in his head and it left him utterly breathless, in fact he wanted to faint.

Jace was not straight.

All those years...all those years of Jake staying away from you, trying to keep his mouth shut, torturing himself because he thought you and Jace were secretly dating or harboring feelings for each other—it had all been a lie. A massive and colossal misunderstanding. You weren't a couple, you were just best friends and Jace had been hiding this massive secret from everyone, including him.

The anger that boiled up in Jake in that exact second wasn't because Jace was kissing a guy. It wasn't homophobia, it was just a violent wave of betrayal and resentment. He was angry partially because Jace had hidden it but mostly because Jace's silence had accidentally locked Jake out of ever pursuing the only girl he loved, leaving him to waste years acting like a villain while his own brother kept him in the dark.

The shock hardened into an unreadable, defensive mask and without hesitating, Jake hurled the door open and stormed into the night.

"Jake, stop! Please, just leave them alone!" you sobbed behind him, grabbing his arm with both hands to anchor him. He didn't even look at you as he violently jerked his shoulder away, shoving you off so hard you stumbled back against the cold brick wall of the stairwell. He didn't mean to hurt you—he never wanted to hurt you—but his blood was boiling too hot.

"What the fuck, Jace?!" Jake's voice boomed through the quiet courtyard.

The two boys sprang apart and Jace turned deathly pale.

"Are you serious right now?" Jake stepped closer, his looming posture dripping with guard that fully looked like aggression. "You're gay? You've been playing this whole honors student part while you're out here kissing dudes? Lying to our parents? Why didn't you say anything?"

The questions were frantic, maybe too accusatory and completely lopsided by his own internal panic. He was essentially screaming—Why did you let me believe you guys were together? Why didn't you trust me? But that's definitely not what everyone else was hearing.

You threw yourself between them, pressing your hands against Jake's chest. "Jake, shut up! Stop it right now! This isn't the time or place. Leave him alone!"

Jake didn't budge, staring directly over your head into his twin's terrified eyes. He wanted Jace to explain, to say something that would make sense of the years of distance between them.

But Jace just let out a bitter, icy laugh. "Wow," Jace spit. "You find out your brother is gay and your first instinct isn't to wonder why I was too scared to tell you. It's to accuse me of living a lie because it bruises your pathetic ego."

Jace's eyes turned cold. "You truly are a vile excuse for a human being, Jake. I've spent twenty two years sharing your face and every day I wake up wishing I could tear it off just so I don't have to look like someone so completely devoid of anything decent. You're not my fucking brother. You're just a mistake that happened four minutes before me."

The words left an invisible wound in Jake, he could've sworn getting stabbed would've hurt less. He stood there frozen as Jace turned and ran, wanting to scream that Jace had it all wrong, that he wasn't mad about who Jace liked, he was mad because the lie had cost him everything, cost him time. He thought of you but the blinding hatred and tears he had seen in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. You would never believe him, you would always choose Jace.

The blinding rush of anger only broke when he heard the sickening sound of your shoes catching on the uneven pavement. He tore his eyes from Jace just in time to see you crash heavily onto the concrete sidewalk, your body tumbling forward in the dark. He rushed over, dropping to his knees, his hands hovering over your shaking shoulders. All he wanted to do was lift you up, clean the dirt and blood already seeping from the wound and carry you somewhere safe. He wanted to be the one to protect you.

But the moment he reached for you, you flinched away as if his touch were poison. The look of burning hatred you hurled at him through your tears froze the air in his lungs. You wouldn't budge. You screamed at him to stay away, even with your voice raw and broken and no matter how much he begged you to just let him help, you refused to let him near you. You tore into him, calling him a shadow Jace has been trying to outrun and finally saying the words that made his jaw tighten in unmistakable heartbreak. "I hate you. I think I've always hated you."

He tried to deny it, ignoring the crack in his voice as he growled out that you didn't mean it but it was more like he was trying to convince himself and not you. But you just laughed right in his face and doubled down, like you wanted to ensure every single word cut like a knife.

His hands were shaking violently at his sides as he muttered for you to stop, but you just wouldn't. Maybe you really did hate him and his presence was only making you spiral deeper into distress, so he finally backed off but he refused to just leave you bleeding in the dark. So, he got back in his car and kept his foot light on the gas, tracking your slow limping figure from the street, driving right beside you along the curb. He ignored the honks of other cars, keeping his lights blinking, purely focused on ensuring you made it across campus and straight to the safety of Jace's dorm building.

The second the heavy glass doors of the honors dorm closed behind your shivering form, the last string holding Jake together snapped.

He slammed his foot on the accelerator and the engine roared as he sped recklessly through the campus gates, tearing down the empty roads all the way back to his off campus apartment. He doesn't remember much of the actual drive or how he even managed to park the car without wrecking it, he does remember how his eyes blurred so violently from tears that the streetlamps bled into long streaks of yellow light down his cheeks. He remembers stumbling through his front door and wanting to not be around anymore the moment the gravity of his own wreckage finally collapsed on top of him.

What had he done?

He had wanted to fix a years long misunderstanding, maybe finally clear the air so he could be a man and tell you how he felt. Instead, in the span of less than ten minutes, he had severed his bond with his twin brother, terrified the girl he loved and cemented himself as the villain in both of their stories.

Jake inevitably fell into a deep, dark slump that very weekend. By Saturday morning, he was desperate to numb the static buzzing in his brain, so he took a random pill he'd bought off some guy at a party weeks ago. Which was a massive mistake because instead of taking the edge off, it triggered a severe drop in his serotonin, sending him spiraling into a hollow depression.

He spent all of Saturday and Sunday locked in his room, staring at the ceiling as his phone rang out with calls from his parents. He didn't make it to the Sunday family dinner, how could he? Jace wasn't picking up his calls or answering any of his frantic texts and the fear of facing his parents kept him paralyzed. He knew exactly what would happen if he went home—Jace had probably already told them everything about how he had acted and he knew wouldn't take his side, they never did.

Wrapping his arms around his head in the dark, he finally had to admit it to himself for the first time in his life, the armor and the denial wasn't working—he was depressed.

The thought felt heavy and bitter in his chest, it was a truth he had spent years violently sprinting away from. He had never, ever admitted it to himself before, sure he'd sat in those sterile therapist offices his parents forced him into. He'd watched the doctors scribble notes on their clipboards, speaking in those careful tones that made him want to rip his own skin off. And yeah, he'd been put on medication and he did the work, swallowing those little pills because it was easier than fighting his mother about it.

But taking them had never meant he accepted it. To teenage Jake and even to an older one, the diagnosis wasn't a medical reality for him, it always felt more like a verdict. It was proof that everyone around him, from even his mother to his twin brother, looked at him and saw something defective, maybe even broken that needed to be chemically altered just to be tolerable.

The meds were just a reminder that Jace was born right and Jake was born wrong.

So he'd hidden behind the noise and built this fuck boy persona, where he drank too much and laughed too loud, treating everything like a joke so he could prove to the world and to himself that he was fine and he was normal. He had convinced himself that if he just ran fast enough, that shadow wouldn't catch him.

But sitting there in the dark, with his serotonin and dopamine entirely depleted by a reckless choice, the noise was gone. Jace wouldn't answer his calls, you hated his guts and probably wouldn't even spit on him if he were on fire and his parents were a looming storm he couldn't face.

He didn't step foot outside his apartment until Wednesday afternoon and the only reason he did was because he absolutely had to see a professor for a class he was currently failing. His head throbbed, his skin felt itchy under his wrinkled hoodie and he hadn't taken a shower or eaten a single thing in days. He tried to make one good decision, to get some food in his system so after meeting with the professor, he made his way to the dining hall, only to be hit with the sight of you as soon as he walked in.

You were sitting at a table laughing with Jace and the guy from that night. Watching the three of you made a bitter thought loop in his head.

Jake had always been jealous of Jace, always and it wasn't just about you, though that was the sharpest ache in his ribs. It was everything, Jace got to be the real golden boy, the honors student, the twin who didn't have to put on a loud mask just to feel like he existed or have to choose between feeling hopelessly sad or being numbed by his medication. Jace got to be soft and people loved him for it, he got to have genuine friendships, while Jake was surrounded by leeches. And now, Jace had the love of that guy along with the freedom of being completely honest and out.

Most of all, Jace had you.

Even when you were all just laughing at a table he couldn't sit at, you were looking at Jace with that protective warmth Jake would have given anything to experience just once. Jace got the best parts of the world without even trying and Jake was left standing in the shadows with the exact same face but a drastically different result.

The sight of you laughing and smiling triggered a painful memory for him. May 2021, a week before junior prom when he was sitting at the breakfast table with his family, his fingers tightly gripped around a glass of orange juice. He had spent days building up the courage to finally say the words out loud.

"I think I'm going to ask Y/n to the dance," he had announced, trying to sound casual, even though his heart was hammering against his ribs. "I want to buy her a corsage and take her."

His dad had let out a low chuckle into his coffee cup but didn't offer a real comment. Jace on the other hand, had laughed right in his face. "Are you serious, Jake?" Jace had scoffed with a shake of his head. "Y/n wouldn't even want that. We already planned to go together anyway. You'd just make it awkward for her."

Jake's chest had tightened but the real blow had yet to come, then his mother came from his reached across the table, trying to soften the impact but her words only hurt him more. "Sweetie, your brother is right. You know how sensitive Y/n is. It's probably a better idea for Jaejun to take her instead. They're best friends and he knows how to look after her."

That rejection had upset him far beyond what he even thought he was emotionally capable of handling. He was only seventeen after all, just a kid who didn't possess the emotional maturity to process the concept of his own mother openly admitting that Jace was better suited for the girl he loved. In the mind of an insecure seventeen year old Jake, it felt like his family was explicitly telling him he wasn't good enough, that he was too rough around the edges to ever deserve you.

The hurt had turned into a toxic anger and a vow to make everyone else feel as small as he felt in that kitchen table. It made him cruel.

A week later, when he stood by the banister in the foyer and watched you walk in, the cruelty spilled over. You looked so pretty in your baby pink dress, despite the braces and the acne you were so insecure about. But the second he noticed that once again, you were looking at Jace like he was your whole world and Jace was smiling back as he pinned a corsage to your wrist, Jake's heart went cold. If he couldn't have you look at him like that, he was damn well going to make sure Jace didn't get to enjoy it either. He tore you down because his own mother had torn him down first and he had been repeating that same broken cycle ever since.

Unfortunately, the exact millisecond those harsh words left his lips in the foyer, the weak armor of his anger shattered. He watched the light completely drain from your face and the tears well up in your eyes, in an instant, a surge of regret hit him. He wanted to reach out and swallow the words back down his throat, letting you know he didn't mean a single syllable of it. He didn't even care that his mother had immediately stepped in and grounded him for the next month, taking away his car keys right there in front of everyone.

The punishment was nothing compared to the burning pit in his stomach, he only wanted to make it right, pull you aside and beg on his knees for your forgiveness but he never got the chance. Jace had seamlessly stepped in, guiding you out of the house to the safety of his car while comforting you and his mother had coldly pointed toward the stairs, sending Jake up to his bedroom like some pariah.

He spent hours in the dark, listening to the muffled silence of a house that felt like it was actively rejecting him. When Jace finally came back late that night, the tension in their shared bedroom was undeniable. Jace didn't even look at him as he changed out of his tux, then out of nowhere, Jace spoke into the dark, "You know, Jaeyun, I consider Y/n more of a sibling than I consider you. She's my real twin and if I ever had the choice, I'd pick her over you in a heartbeat. And after today, I don't want you to ever come near her again."

A clean snap, if everyone in his life thought Jace was the better twin, if even his own mother openly favored Jace's gentleness over him and now his own identical brother, the person who shared his actual face, would choose you over him without a second thought—where did that leave him? It left him with absolutely no one. He was entirely alone in his own home.

That was the exact night, five years ago, Jake Sim buried his feelings for you so deep that no one could ever dig them back up. If loving you meant constantly being reminded of how inferior he was to Jace, it was safer to pretend he didn't care at all, he figured it'd be easier to be the villain they all assumed he was anyway and if he couldn't be loved for who he was, he would make sure he was desired for what he could pretend to be.

The very next week, he had asked out the prettiest girl in school and basked in the shallow attention it brought his way, only to coldly dump her for her best friend three weeks later. He didn't care about the collateral damage, he just needed to feel like he had some semblance of power, some form validation to drown out the memory of Jace's voice telling him he'd never be chosen.

He carried that exact same toxic behavior right with him to college and when he arrived on campus, he quickly realized he didn't fit in with the honors students or the artsy crowd where you and Jace flourished. Instead, he found that he only fit in with the frat boys, guys who valued the same superficial bravado he used to mask his own emptiness. He became the guy who drank too much, laughed too loud and treated girls like conquests, all because the real Jake Sim was still a heartbroken seventeen year old kid hiding in the dark, terrified of being rejected again.

In the middle of the crowded dining hall, Jake felt completely hollow with his body aching from the lingering weight of a chemically induced weekend crash. He watched the three of you from a distance, before he saw your head shift in his direction and your smile instantly vanish at the sight of him, he knew you'd spotted him. A part of him wanted to throw up his usual, cocky armor, maybe to smirk or throw out a hollow catcall at you just to hide how empty he actually felt but he simply didn't have the energy. The fake golden boy act was dead but he forced his heavy feet forward and made a direct line for your table. As he approached, he deliberately locked his eyes onto his twin, completely avoiding your gaze. He couldn't look at you cause he couldn't bear to see more of the disgust and fear that was undoubtedly written all over your face after what happened on the rooftop. He just needed his brother.

"Jace," "Can we talk? Just real quick. Somewhere else."

He watched Jace instantly stiffen, his brother's arm defensively dropping under the table, likely reaching for Jungwon's hand. Jace glared up at him all tight and unyielding. "Why couldn't you just call me, Jake? Or wait until I was at the dorm?"

Jake let out a rough breath and used his eyes to beg his twin to just cooperate for once. "I've been texting you for three days, Jace. You haven't responded once. I...I really need to talk to you."

He didn't fire back with a snarky comment, nor did he roll his eyes. He just stood there, pale and exhausted, too exposed under the bright lights. He thanked a higher being that Jace seemed to sense the genuine desperation behind the lack of an argument.

"Fine. Two minutes," Jace muttered.

Jake immediately turned around and headed toward a less crowded corner of the room, he could feel your eyes burning into his retreating back but all he could focus on was the faint hope that he could finally make his brother understand the truth before it was too late.

"Look, Jace," Jake started, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie. "First of all...I'm really sorry. About that night, I shouldn't have blasted you out in the open like that."

Jace let out a dry scoff, he didn't look like he was believing a word of what his brother was telling him. "Are you serious right now, Jake? You think an apology fixes that? You cornered us and you made it sound like I was committing some crime."

"Because I was losing my mind, Jace." Jake erupted, his defense mechanism instantly flaring up as he went into a frantic rant. He paced a small line on the tile. "You don't get it. You've never gotten it. I didn't care that you were kissing a guy, Jace. I was angry because you hid it. I was angry because you let me believe that you and Y/n—"

"Don't—Do not drag her into this," Jace cut him off in a protective growl and Jake couldn't deny the anger in his twins eyes. "Do not bring Y/n's name out of your mouth, Jake. You've done enough damage to her to last a fucking lifetime."

"You're not even listening to me." Jake pulled his hair, feeling the desperation finally snap what was left of his restraints. He stopped pacing a little and stared directly into his twin's face. "I am dragging her into this because she is the reason. I have been helplessly, devastatingly in love with her, Jace! I've been in love with Y/n since we were like fucking fourteen and I stayed away because I thought you two were together!"

The part of Jake that thought Jace would finally see things from his point of view immediately died when his face didn't even move an inch, in fact his eyes narrowed in utter disgust.

"Cut the shit, Jake." Jace said, completely unyielding. "Seriously, just stop. Whatever twisted game you're playing at right now, it isn't going to work anymore. You don't love her. You just can't stand that she's part of my life and completely wants nothing to do with yours."

"I'm not playing a game." Jake choked out, crying already with tears finally pricking the corners of his eyes and blurring his vision. "I—I'm telling you the truth."

"You have issues, Jake. Real issues and I think you need serious help." Jace said softly before looking at him with agonizing pity—the one expression Jake absolutely loathed more than anything else in the world. It always made him feel small and broken.

"Have you even been taking your meds?" Jace asked, voice filled with concern. "Because you're completely spiraling and I'm not going to let you use one of your episodes as an excuse to wreck my life or Y/n's."

A tearful gasp escaped Jake's throat before he could stop it and his hands formed tight fists inside his pockets as the tears finally spilled over his pale cheeks.

"Screw you," Jake spat as he took a step back, shaking his head violently and backing away from Jace. "Screw you, Jace. This has nothing to do with that. You just...you never want to see me as anything else, do you?"

That question seemed to hurt Jake more than any insult his brother has ever thrown his way because the topic of his depression and his medication had always been strictly off limits in their family. It was the one deeply guarded secret that was kept hidden away from the rest of the world—even you didn't know about it. So for Jace to weaponize that private vulnerability and drag it into the light of a public space just to invalidate him, that felt like a level of calculated cruelty Jake never thought his brother was capable of.

Jace let out a long sigh and ran a hand down his face as if he was dealing with an exhausting chore rather than a breaking his own blood. "Look, I know how you get, Jake."

"So maybe...I don't know, maybe all of this is just a manifestation of you being off your meds again."

Jake stared at his twin and just felt completely paralyzed as the words hung in the air between them. He genuinely could not believe what he was hearing. The logic was so twisted that it left him breathless—the fact that Jace thought the only possible explanation for Jake truly loving you, the only way his years of silent and agonizing pining could ever make sense in his brother's mind, was if it were the byproduct of a severe depressive spiral or a manic episode. To Jace, Jake's genuine heart was nothing more than a chemical glitch and just another symptom to be managed.

A bitter laugh bubbled up in Jake's chest but it quickly turned into a sob as he nodded his head violently. He looked at the identical face staring back at him with that pity and the last shred of his attachment to his twin vanished into thin air.

"And I thought I was the vile twin," Jake whispered but didn't bother waiting for a response or giving Jace another second to dissect him. He simply walked away, fully intending to forget all about you and his brother too.

He threw the doors open, ignoring the way the heavy wood slammed against the drywall with a loud crack. On the drive back, he had squeezed the steering wheel until his hands went numb, staring so hard at the road his eyes burned. He hadn't let himself continue to cry, he had just breathed through his teeth, pushing down the lump in his throat because he refused to break down in his car over a brother who looked him in the eye and called his heart a clinical glitch.

He just needed to get inside his apartment, he was ready to lock the world out again and let the darkness take over.

Instead, when he unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open, his feet stopped dead. The lamp in the corner was throwing a little light across the living room and sitting right there on the couch she bought him was his mother.

The second she heard him come in, her head snapped up, taking a long look at his pale face, the deep bruises under his red rimmed eyes and the sad way his hoodie hung off his shoulders, and she stood up fast. Her face broke open with a look of real panic and maternal dread.

But Jake was blind to it.

His brain, already skinless by Jace's execution of his dignity, went into immediate defense mode. He didn't see a mother who had driven over out of worry for her son. He saw an intruder and the woman who had spent his entire youth looking at him like a problem to be solved, standing in his sanctuary and his walls went up, turning his agonizing hurt into razor sharp venom.

"What are you doing here?" Jake spat at her, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. He made sure the words came out harsh and deliberately ugly. "Why are you inside my apartment unannounced? Who the hell gave you a key?"

He could see his mother visibly recoil, her shoulders dropped as though she'd been struck but she didn't get angry at him. She took a tentative step toward him, her hands hovering in the space between them.

"Jaeyun, please, just stop," she whispered, her voice trembling as she glanced around the room. "I've been calling you for three days. You haven't answered a single text. I was just worried about you." She gestured helplessly to the state of the room—the stale air, the chaotic piles of dirty clothes that always signaled he had stopped functioning weeks ago. "Look at this place, Jake. Look at you. I'm worried about you."

He walked right past her, brushing his shoulder against hers as he headed deeper into the apartment. "There's nothing to be worried about," he muttered dismissively as he threw his car keys onto the messy kitchen counter. "I'm just tired. Leave it alone."

"Jake, please, just listen to me," she pleaded with him, her voice cracking as she hurried after him. She reached out, using her fingers to desperately catch the rough fabric of his sleeve, holding onto him to force him to stop moving.

Jake gave her one irritated breath and looked down, ready to wrench his arm out of her grip but his throat closed around the words.

In her other hand, clutched tightly against her palm, was his prescription container of Lexapro.

Through the translucent plastic, he could see the unmoved crowd of tablets inside. Yes, the bottle was still full with the exact same amount of pills it had contained a month ago when he'd first picked up the refill. She didn't just suspect it anymore—she knew with absolute certainty, that he hadn't been taking them.

Silence fell over the kitchen and his mother looked up at him with eyes shining with unshed tears, silently begging him to acknowledge the proof right in front of them.

Jake's rolled his eyes and a bitter sneer twisted in his features as he reached down. One by one, he pried her fingers off his arm, pushing her hand away from him.

"I'm fine." He said in an unyielding line as he stepped backward out of her reach. "I told you, I'm fine."

"You think a handful of pills fixes a broken son, is that it?" Jake asked her with a sickly smile on his face, "You think if I just swallow your little compliance capsules, I suddenly become the son you actually wanted?"

"Jake, stop it! That is not what this is!" She cried out, clutching the plastic bottle tight against her chest like a shield. Tears were streaming freely down her face now and her posture entirely broken. "It's medicine! You are hurting and you are spiraling and I am watching you destroy yourself!"

"Because I am defective, right?!" He suddenly roared, stopping in his tracks. "That's what you and Jace think! Even dad! That's what you've always thought! You look at him and you see the perfect child, the brilliant twin, the one who does everything right! And then you look at me and you just see a project that needs a chemical fix!"

"That is not true!" she sobbed, shaking her head so violently her hair fell out of its clip.

"Don't lie to me!" Jake screamed as his face turned an unhinged red. The years of suppressed emotion and agonizing reality of living in Jace's shadow, finally tore out of his throat in a breathless torrent.

"You love him more. Just admit it. You've always loved him more, every—every single day of my life, you looked at me and wished I was just like Jace. You wished I was quiet, you wished I was stable, you wished I didn't have a broken fucking brain! You look at my identical face and you just wish you could erase me and double your investment in him!"

"No! Jaeyun, stop, please, my god, stop!"

His mother dropped the pill bottle and the plastic clattered against the hardwood floor, making the tablets scatter across the floor. She lunged forward, not caring about his harsh words and grabbed his face with both of her shaking hands, forcing him to look at her.

"That is not true! It has never ever been true!" She wailed in his face. She held him tightly, digging her fingers into his cheeks as she forced his wild eyes to lock onto hers. "I love you, Jake. I love you. Just the way you are. I have never wanted you to be Jace. I have only ever wanted you to survive this . You are my son. My beautiful, fiercely loving boy and it hurts my heart to see you in this much pain."

Her words seemed to snap his violent armor as the heat left his body all at once, leaving him gutted to his core and trembling. Jake's eyes quickly welled up and the heavy tears finally spilling over his lashes, tracing hot paths down his pale cheeks. His mouth opened but not a sound came out at first, just a serrated gasp for air as his shoulders caved inward. He didn't pull away from her touch this time, he collapsed into it, letting his heavy hands come up to grip her wrists but instead of prying them away like he's sure she thought he would do, he used them to hold his body upright.

He was crying completely now, his breaths came hard with rattling sobs that sounded like a dying man. He looked at his mother, stripped entirely of his pride, his anger and his defense mechanisms, reduced to nothing but bleeding nerve endings.

"Then why doesn't Y/n love me back?" Jake whispered, his voice cracking so deeply it was barely a breath, entirely devastated. He stared into his mother's eyes, looking like a broken sixteen year old boy. "If I'm not broken, Mum...if I'm not less than him...then why doesn't she want me? Why does she look at Jace like he's the entire world and look at me like I'm nothing?"

To his surprise, a gasp of relief mixed with laughter

escaped her throat, it was like even through the agonizing weight of his confession, she was just grateful to have her boy back. She gave another little before she lunged forward, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling his heavy frame tightly against her chest.

Jake stiffened, as the sudden warmth caught him off guard. He was still crying when he felt his nose running and knew his face was a total mess of tears and snot. Realizing he was ruining the back of her cashmere sweater, he awkwardly tried to pull away, his shoulders tense. "Mum, wait, I'm getting..."

But she didn't care and she didn't let him go. If anything, she only squeezed him tighter, burying her face into his shoulder and rocking him back and forth as if he were still a little boy.

"Oh, my darling, darling boy." Her voice muffled against his hoodie. "My sweet Jaeyun...Y/n loves you more than you could ever even comprehend."

Jake froze in her arms, his breath went uneven in his throat. The words sounded so utterly ridiculous, so completely detached from the brutal reality of that night, that they felt like a cruel joke. He pulled back just enough to look at her and a sad laugh bubbled up through his fresh tears. He shook his head. "Don't...Mum, don't make fun of me. Please. You don't know what she said to me. She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you, Jaeyun," his mother doubled down instantly, her hands moving up to cup his face again, wiping away his tears with her thumbs. Her gaze was unyielding, and filled with so much certainty a part of him wanted to badly to believe her. "Y/n is just deeply hurt. Your actions...the things you did to protect yourself, they pushed her away. But that is not hate. You have to believe me."

Before he could argue or before his brain could spiral back into the darkness as your voice flooded his head again, she guided him toward the living room. Jake didn't fight her, he let her pull him down onto the thrifted couch, his long legs cramping up as he curled into her side and buried his face in her lap just like he used to do when the world got too loud. She wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair with a gentle hand and whispering sweet nothings into the quiet room.

"You're going to be okay, my sweet boy," she murmured, kissing the top of his head. "We're going to fix this. I love you so much, Jake. You are so so loved."

For a long time, the only sound in the apartment was the steadying of Jake's breathing as the storm inside him finally began to pass. He felt exhausted drained but lighter than he had in years.

Suddenly, his mother's soothing hand paused mid stroke. Her head turned and her eyes set on the armrest right next to Jake's head. Sitting prominently on the plush of the expensive couch was a pair of dirty boxers he had lazily tossed days ago.

She exhaled slowly like her overwhelming maternal instinct instantly was shifting from emotional crisis mode to domestic intervention.

"First thing tomorrow," she started with her voice returning to its usual brisk tone as she kept one arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, "I am calling professional cleaners. Because this is absolutely biological warfare, Jaeyun."

He laughed at her words, trying not to seem too embarrassed. Once his breathing finally leveled out, his mother gently nudged him up so she could get to work. She wasn't the type to sit idle for long and before Jake could even protest, she was moving through the apartment like a whirlwind. She cleared the mountain of beers cans and pizza boxes from the coffee table, threw his discarded clothes into a hamper and disappeared into the small kitchen to rifle through the bare refrigerator.

Jake stood leaning against the doorframe, his throat still felt raw from crying, he watched her slice vegetables, so confident in ways only a mother could be.

"Mum, you don't have to do all this," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can cook."

"You can but you haven't," she pointed out smoothly, not looking up as she tossed chopped peppers into a pan. "Grab those glass containers from the cabinet. Let's meal prep ,okay? So I know you'll actually eat a real vegetable this week."

He did as she told him to, stepping up to the counter beside her. The domestic quiet was a far cry from the emotional explosion from earlier but it felt grounded and Jake felt safe. As they worked together, dividing the food into neat containers, she kept the conversation light, she deliberately steered them away from the heavy topics of Jace, you and his own head.

"Your father installed a greenhouse last weekend," she remarked with a little smile on her lips as she handed him a serving spoon. "He's gotten obsessed. He spent a good deal of time trying to explain the kind of soil required for heirloom tomatoes to me. I had to tune him out after twenty minutes."

Jake let out a real but still quiet laugh. "Dad and gardening? He barely manages to keep the lawn alive without the gardeners."

"Don't let him hear you say that," she chuckled and lightly tapped the back of his hand with a spoon. "He bought a wide brimmed straw hat and everything. He looks ridiculous."

By the time the kitchen was clean and the fridge was stocked with home cooked meals, the exhaustion of the emotional fallout finally caught up to Jake. His eyelids felt like lead, so his mum ushered him off to his bedroom, pulling the heavy blankets over his shoulders just like she used to when he was a kid.

"Go to sleep, Jaeyun." She whispered to him before brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "I'll handle the rest."

He fell asleep almost instantly, slipping into a deep slumber. Sometime during the early morning hours, his mind drifted through a foggy state of semi consciousness. He vaguely heard distant clatters, the muted hum of a vacuum and the quiet murmur of voices in the living room but the sounds didn't alarm him. They felt like a background track to a dream and he simply rolled over to bury his face deeper into his pillow.

When he finally woke up the next day, the apartment was dead silent and he woke up to an unfamiliar lightness in his chest. He stood up and walked out into the living room and true to her word, his mother was gone but she had clearly unleashed a small army of professional cleaners on the apartment. The space was pristine, with the air smelling crisply of citrus and fresh linen, the floors practically gleamed and every single piece of clutter had been meticulously organized.

He walked into the kitchen, his bare feet cool against the spotless tile and resting in the center of the completely empty kitchen island was his container of medication.

Propped up perfectly against the plastic bottle was a bright yellow sticky note. He stepped closer, immediately recognizing his mother's elegant handwriting.

Just start with one, it read.

Jake stood frozen in front of the island, staring down at the little bottle for a quiet moment. His mind began to wander, the gears turning as he faced the wreckage of his life with a newly cleared head. The reality of everything he had broken over the past few weeks came rushing back but the paralyzing dread was gone and all he felt now was a quiet determination.

He thought about you, about the brutal words you had screamed at him on the pavement, the absolute hatred in your eyes, it all made his heart violently ache. How do I win you over? he wondered as his heart tightened. How do I even begin to show you that I'm not the selfish person you think I am?

But then there was still Jace and the disgust in his twin's voice during their hallway fight from yesterday still rang clearly in his ears. He knew the apology he had attempted had barely even scratched the surface. How do I make Jace forgive me?

He knew it would take time, in fact it would take proving to his brother that he wasn't just a ticking time bomb using his episodes as an excuse to wreck everyone else's lives.

He looked back down at the sticky note. Just start with one.

It just happened to be a terrifyingly small step, an admission that he couldn't fix everything on his own, that he actually needed the help he had spent his entire life rejecting. But as he looked around his clean kitchen, Jake didn't want to run anymore, he didn't want to hide behind the noise or the anger or even the bravado.

So with a steady hand, Jake reached out and unscrewed the cap. The plastic clicked and slowly, he tipped the bottle, catching a single pill in his palm, without giving himself another second to even overthink it or let the old demons drag him back down, he popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed it dry.

The whole day passed for him in what he could only describe as his own hard won type of peace. For the first time in what felt like centuries, the constant buzzing of anxiety in his chest had subsided into more manageable hum. He actually ate his meals, sat down at his spotless kitchen table and devoured the containers his mother had left behind, forcing himself to chew and swallow until they were empty.

With his body finally fueled by something other than cheap liquor and adrenaline, he spent a solid chunk of the afternoon trying to patch up the mess that was his academic life. He stared at the brightness of his laptop screen as he drafted an uncharacteristically humble email to his economics professor. He practically begged for a chance to submit a heavily overdue assignment, trying to sound like a student who had simply lost track of time rather than one who had been entirely incapacitated by his own mind. It wasn’t easy and his brain protested the sudden inflow of words and numbers but he forced himself to stay glued to the chair until he finally clicked send.

By the time night fell, the clean apartment started to warm up to him. He put on his absolute favorite movie and watched the familiar dialogue and the predictable soundtrack filling the quiet spaces of the room. Then, he booted up his console and buried himself in video games for hours, letting the mindless reflex loops of the controller numb the remaining edges of his thoughts.

Throughout the entire day, his phone had vibrated periodically against the coffee table, lighting up with a steady stream of notifications from his frat brothers. He completely ignored them, not even bothering to swipe the lock screen open cause he already knew what they wanted and it wasn't because they were worried he had suddenly gone missing from campus. The previews on his lock screen told him everything he needed to know—they were asking about who was covering the alcohol tab for the upcoming mixer, where the keys to the frat house basement were or which girls were showing up to the pregame. It was all so agonizingly shallow, so painfully superficial and Jake for the life of him just couldn't deal with the exhausting effort of putting on the mask again. He couldn't fake that loud and hedonistic persona they all expected from him when his nerve endings were still this raw.

Yet, despite the movie, the video games, the textbook chapters and the deliberate isolation, he couldn't completely clear the air in his head. Through all of this, the one absolute constant was you. You stayed pinned to the very front of his mind, like a painfully beautiful fixture that he just couldn't escape. Every time the game loading screen went black, he saw the reflection of his own face and remembered the disdain on your face.

Every time he took a breath of the clean air in his living room, he wondered if you were still out somewhere with Jace, completely happy and relieved that he was finally out of your picture. He wanted to reach for his phone a thousand times just to type your name and beg you to just let him explain but the weight of his own mistakes held his hands still. He was working on himself, just like his mother had asked him too but the hardest pill to swallow wasn't even his own medication—it was the fact that even if he got better, he still had no idea if you would love him back or love him for him.

That same crushing burden of you on his mind carried all the way into Friday night. By then, the apartment that had warmed up to him, felt like it was itching to spit him out. He was sitting at the foot of his bed, working on another overdue assignment, when his phone suddenly vibrated against the mattress.

Jake swore he must have somehow summoned you into existence because there it was. Your name was glowing bright and impossible against the dark screen.

It was an incoming call from you and saying his heart skipped a beat would’ve been an understatement because it slammed into his stomach and back up into his ribs .

He felt paralyzed staring at the flashing letters, he also felt so incredibly confused and that made a thick wave of nauseating anxiety rise in his throat. Why were you calling him? Were you calling to berate him again? To deliver the sequel from that confrontation and finish stripping away whatever minor scraps of dignity he had left?

Or had something happened to Jace? His mind raced a mile a minute, he felt his chest tightening at the thought of his twin but he instantly shot it down. No, if Jace was hurt, you definitely wouldn't be calling him for help, you wouldn't even want him anywhere near a crisis.

He sat there overthinking, trapped in a loop of panic, watching the phone screen flash over and over. He kept debating whether to answer, his thumb was hovering an inch above the green answer icon, until the ringing abruptly stopped and the screen went dark.

A shaky breath left him and his shoulders sagged as a strange sense of relief washed over him. He wiped a sudden sweat from his palms against his sweatpants. It had to have been a mistake, maybe a pocket dial or an accident. You probably realized who you were calling and hung up in disgust.

The his phone started to vibrate again and your name flashed on the screen for a second time. This wasn't no accident, you were intentionally trying to reach him and he realized that ignoring it twice would completely kill whatever microscopic thread was left between you, the panic in his chest turned into raw adrenaline and he didn’t even give himself the chance to talk himself out of it, he reached out and swiped answer on the screen before pressing the phone tightly against his ear.

"Hello?"

"Jace?"

Your voice came through the speaker, but it didn't hit him with the sharp precision he had been bracing for. It was soft and unfocused, actually it was entirely wrong.

Jake's chest deflated and familiar pang of disappointment settling right in his heart.

Oh, yeah. It was a mistake, he thought to himself.

You hadn't meant to call him, you had meant to call the twin who actually mattered, you had probably clicked the wrong contact in a hurry.

He opened his mouth to tell you but before he could say even get a single word out, you spoke again.

"Jaceeee...where are you?"

He comically pulled the device away from his ear for a fraction of a second and checked the caller ID just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. You didn't sound like yourself at all, your voice was much whinier than usual and your syllables were dragging and bleeding into one another in a clumsy slur.

"Why aren't you here to pick me up yet?" You complained in a tone that had Jake thinking there was definitely a pout on your face. "The music inside is too loud and my feet hurt, Jace. You said you'd come get me." "But I—I’m looking around and there’s no you."

Jake stood up quickly as his brain started putting two and two together. It was Friday night and you were out somewhere and from the sounds of it, you were absolutely wasted.

His first instinct was to just tell you the truth—that you had dialed the wrong twin and he was the wrong person. He wanted to tell you to hang up and call his brother or he even thought about hanging up himself and calling Jace to let him know you were stranded somewhere. But the memory of his Wednesday exchange flashed in his mind and Jace's voice echoed in his ears. Have you even been taking your meds? I'm not going to let you use your episodes as an excuse to wreck my life or Y/n's.

Jace wouldn't answer his call. If Jake tried to ring his brother right now, Jace would see his name on the screen, assume it was another episode or another frantic rant and decline it instantly. Meanwhile, you'd be sitting wherever you were, completely incapacitated and unprotected.

He couldn't leave you like that, he really didn't care if you hated him, he wouldn’t let you be vulnerable.

"Hey," Jake started, trying his absolute best to mimic the steady tone Jace always used when things got chaotic. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe for a second. Tell me where you are."

A loud giggle came through from your end of the line, followed by a wet hiccup. "You sound so funny," you muttered and he could hear the distinct sound of wind rushing past the microphone, like you were wandering around outside. "Why do you sound so serious? Are you mad at me? Don't be mad at me, Jacey."

"I'm not mad," Jake lied through his teeth, paying no mind to how his heart was pounding, he was already grabbing his car keys off the nightstand with his free hand. He began pacing the clean floorboards of his bedroom with his anxiety spiking. "I'm not mad at all, I promise. But I need you to listen to me. I need to know where you're standing right now so I can get to you."

"I'm at...um..." You trailed off, laughing softly to yourself as if you had forgotten the question entirely. "There's a really big sign. It's pink. No, wait, it's red. It looks like a giant grape."

"A grape?" Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, stepping out into his living room. He tried to think of every bar, club and lounge near campus. "Y/n, think for me. Is it a bar or a club? Are you downtown?"

"It's a secret." You whispered loudly into the phone and followed it with another fit of giggles. "If I tell you, you're gonna make me leave and the girls were being nice. Well, some of them. One of them spilled an entire gin and tonic on my boot, Jace. Look at it."

"I can't see your boot, Y/n," Jake said while his patience was fraying into terror for your safety. He could hear heavy bass thumping faintly in the background but the air around you sounded wide open. You were definitely outside the place, likely on a sidewalk or an alley. "Please, just look around you. Read the words on the building for me. Just play along, okay? Read the words."

"Fine, party pooper," you whined, huffed loudly into the receiver before he heard the sound of scuffing of your boots, then a quiet gasp. "Oh! It says…cellar. But it’s blinking. It goes click click cliiiiick. It's soooo annoying."

Cellar. Jake knew exactly where that was—it was an underground club a mile off campus but deep in the warehouse district.

"Okay. Okay, I know where that is," Jake said, already out of his front door. He didn't care that he was crossing a massive line or that when you sobered up, you would probably despise him even more for tricking you. All that mattered was getting you into the backseat of a car before someone else noticed how helpless you were. "Stay right there under the blinking sign, Y/n. Don’t move or go back inside and don't walk away. I'll be there right now."

Jake drove as fast as he could through the dark streets, the neon signs of the city blurring into long streaks of color against his windshield. He was definitely breaking speed limits but his heart was beating so wildly that it was the last thing on his mind, he was simply fueled by the dread of you being left alone in that part of town.

When he finally veered into the cracked parking lot of the club, he slammed the brakes and lo and behold, you were actually standing exactly where he had told you to, your small frame was illuminated by the flickering red light of the giant cherry sign.

As he looked at you through the windshield, all he could think of was how easily Jace could tell you to do something and you'd just do it without a single question, simply because you trusted his twin blindly. The only reason you were standing there right now, shivering and swaying on your feet under that broken sign, was because you thought Jace had told you to stay put.

Jake killed the engine and pushed his door open, moving quickly across the pavement toward you.

The second you caught sight of his figure approaching, your face completely lit up. That reaction alone made his heart physically ache but he ignored it. You thought he was Jace and he knew with outright certainty that if you were sober or if you had any idea it was actually Jake standing in front of you, you would have already turned on your heel and walked away into the dark.

Instead, you let out a slurred cheer, stepped off the curb and threw your arms right around his neck.

"You came!" you giggled and your alcohol scented breath brushed against his ear as you squeezed him tightly. "My sweet, sweet best friend. I knew you’d never leave me."

Before he could even process the sudden warmth of your body pressed against his, you leaned back slightly and pressed a drunken kiss right against his cheek.

Jake’s whole body couldn’t move, his breath was stuttering in his lungs. He had to stand there and pretend like his entire body wasn't going completely crazy from the gesture. This was the closest he had ever been to you in his whole life—closer than he had ever dared to dream during all those years of silent pining. Every fiber of his being felt like it was on fire from the ghost of your lips burning against his skin.

But right now he knew he needed to be the responsible one and get you somewhere safe.

"Okay, okay," Jake mumbled, his tone was a little rougher than he intended but still, he gently brought his hands up to grip your waist to try to guide you toward the passenger side of his car. "Come on, let's get you into the car before you freeze."

But you were being completely difficult, you whined and stuck your face back into the crook of his neck, your hands tangling into the fabric of his hoodie as you purposely made your legs go limp. "Nooo, don't want to get in the car yet. The ground is spinning, Jace. Carry me."

A real smile cracked on his face. He really couldn't help it though, he had never in his two plus decades of knowing you seen this side of you before. The you he knew was always guarded and fiercely protective around him, especially after high school, so to see you like this, just stripped of your walls, giggling and pouting like a sleepy child, was a view of you he never thought he'd be allowed to witness. It was beautiful and by God it was intoxicating, like the most bittersweet moment of his life.

"Jaceeee, take off my booooots." You whined and he watched in awe as you actually stomped one foot on the cracked pavement like a little child. The sight made him give a defeated sigh but there was no real annoyance in it. He simply reached down and carefully unzipped the tall boots from your knees one by one until you were standing in just your socks.

He managed to get you over to the passenger door to hold it open for you, practically hovering over you to make sure you didn't tumble over and carefully helping you slide into the seat. He leaned across the console, ignoring how the unfamiliar scent of your perfume filled his senses while he pulled the seatbelt across your lap, clicking it securely into place. After gathering your boots and your bag, he tossed them safely into the backseat and closed the door.

He took in a steadying breath of the cool night air before walking around to the driver's side but the exact moment he climbed into his seat and pulled the door shut, the atmosphere in the vehicle had shifted.

You were staring at him, very angrily in fact. In a way that made his heart violently drop right into his stomach again. A cold sweat broke out across his neck as he froze under your glare, terrified that the illusion had finally shattered. His mind raced frantically—had you finally realized he wasn't Jace? Maybe the interior of the car had given him away. Jace's car didn't look like this or smell like this and you knew Jace's things better than anyone. He braced himself for the screaming that he was so sure was coming.

Shockingly though, the anger vanished as quickly as it had appeared and you burst into another helpless fit of giggles before slumping back against the headrest.

"Wow," you shook your head, looking at him with your glassy eyes. "You and your brother are so identical." You said and threw your hand to his shoulder to play with the hair on the back of his head.

He hoped you were too drunk to notice how his whole body went stiff or how he wasn't even breathing.

You emptied your lungs in an exhale, staring aimlessly out the passenger window as the car started to move.

When he was stopped at a red light and he took the opportunity to look at you, there was a heart tugging smile at the corners of your lips as you murmured, "Remember when I liked him? And I was Mrs. Jake Sim..."

Jake had no idea it was even possible for his heart to drop any further but it did. It felt like his chest had completely caved in.

What? You liked him? Him?

His hands were shaking so violently he could barely g hold the steering, his mind was screaming, like a train wreck of shock and crushing regret. He forced himself to keep driving though and he needed to keep you talking, he needed to know more. So he forced a casual laugh through his teeth, pretending to be Jace just looking down memory lane. "Oh yeah?" He asked, "Remind me...when was that again?"

"You knowww—hiccup—Up until fresh...man year," you mumbled, your hand had dropped to the middle console by now.

Jake's foot twitched violently on the pedal and he nearly slammed on the brakes right in the middle of the street. Freshman year, that was almost four years ago. Four years of him pining for you, four years of him deliberately keeping his distance because he thought you belonged to Jace and all the while...you had liked him before?

"But he's just..." You trailed off, giving a hiccup that interrupted your words and shook your shoulders. Suddenly, your tone shifted and turned into a frustrated ramble as you stared out the windshield. "He's just so horrible, Jace. He's so mean to me. Why is he like that?"

Jake gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were numb, the leather even squeaked under his palms. Every word felt like an earthquake inside him but he stayed silent and let you speak.

"I wish..." You stumbled over the words, your hand coming up to wave vaguely in the air before dropping back on his shoulder to tug at his hair again. "I wish he were better. I wish he was just a little bit better so I could...so I could love him easier. But he makes it so hard. He throws those parties and...and sleeps with all those girls and he says the most awful things and he just...he pushes everyone away. Especially me." Another hiccup caught in your throat and your voice cracked, sounding like you were just incredibly tired. "He made it so hard to stay. I wanted to...I really wanted to but he's just...he's an asshole."

Jake kept his on the dark road ahead, hearing the exact words you had screamed at him not too long ago, repeated right now in this gentle confession was a new kind of torture. You hadn't always hated him, if anything you had wanted to love him and he had ruined it all by himself.

In no time he was pulling up into the parking lot of your dorm building, it was like you felt the car come to a halt and you came around. "We're here?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand like a sleepy child and tilting your head toward him.

"Yeah. We're here," Jake said to you and if you weren't so wasted, he's sure you would've heard how think with unshed tears his voice was. He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached into the back to grab your boots and bag before stepping out into the night.

He moved around to your side and opened the door, watching as you swayed immediately you unclipped your belt, your socked feet dangling over the edge of the car.

"I can't walk, Jace." You looked up at him with wide eyes and held your arms up in the air. "My feet are cold."

Without a word like he really needed the whole night to just end, Jake leaned down and swept one arm behind your knees and the other around your waist, lifting you easily against his chest. You hummed and rested your head right in the crook of his neck, your fingers knotting into the fabric of his hoodie. The heat of your breath against his skin made him shudder but he managed to carry you up the stairs to your dorm door.

"Keys?" He gently asked, not wanting you to fully wake up from the sleep you were already entering. "In my purse."

He was able to fish for them with you clinging to him and found a way to unlock your door, kick it open with his foot and carry you inside. He set you down gently on the bed and placed your boots and purse neatly by the door.

He knew he should leave because the second you woke up tomorrow and realized he was the one who picked you up, the disguise would blow up in his face. But before he could even pull back, you drunkenly snapped right out of your drunken sleepy spell and changed the subject completely, babbling at a hundred miles an hour.

"And another thing!" You announced loudly, waving a lazy hand in the air, your words running together in a slurred mess Jake found adorable. "Sloane's birthday dinner? Oh, it was a disaster, Jace. Complete disaster. You know why?"

Jake lingered right in front of you. "Why?"

"Because she has some absolute bitches for friends," you stated with utmost seriousness, pouting so hard your lip practically stuck out. "Like, total, certified mean girls. One of them looked at my outfit tonight like I was wearing a trash bag. A designer trash bag, maybe but still a trash bag!"

A laugh burst out of Jake's chest before he could stop it. He had always been helplessly charmed by you but this was new—you were funny as you grinned triumphantly, like you were proud of yourself for making him laugh and then you slumped back into the pillows. "I wanted to put her in her place so bad but it was Sloane's birthday and gosh I love Sloane so much. She's basically your sister in law." You giggled like you made a joke only Jace would get but Jake didn't get it.

As Jake stood there watching you giggling to yourself, a wave of crushing regret and bitter jealousy hit him hard. You were so funny like this. So real, affectionate, cute and so so unfiltered. Jace got to see this side of you all the time, this silly Y/n who laughed freely and let her guard down. Jake had spent years only getting the defensive glares and the cold shoulders, all because he was too wrapped up in his own anger to show you who he actually was. And while he was getting a glimpse of heaven right now, he had to remind himself that it was built on a lie.

"Get some sleep, Y/n," he spoke softly.

"Jace, wait." You slurred out, reaching up and grabbing his hoodie. Your grip was weak but it stopped him anyway. You squinted up at him and pulled your brows together as if the fog in your brain was finally starting to clear just enough to notice something was off. "Why do you...why do you look so sad?"

"I'm not sad," Jake lied immediately, trying had to make his voice sound convincing. "I promise. You're just tired and you need to rest up."

He eased your fingers free from the hem of his hoodie, he needed to leave fast. He quickly helped you settle beneath the covers, tucked you in and then paused, sweeping his eyes over the room. Knowing how much you had consumed, he grabbed the small plastic trash can from under your desk and placed it right beside your bed, within easy arm's reach cause he had a very strong feeling you were going to throw up at some point during the night.

Giving you one last look as your breathing slowed into sleep, he quietly slipped out of your dorm and left the building as fast as he could.

Many times, he contemplated leaving Jace a text, just a brief message to let his twin know you were safe, how you had called him by mistake and everything that had just happened. But every time he thought about typing such text, he pictured Jace's disappointed eyes and decided against it. Jace wouldn't listen, he'd probably just assume Jake was crossing boundaries again.

Minutes later, when Jake was lying flat on his back in his own bed and staring up at the dark ceiling, sleep was just impossible. His mind was practically vibrating from the insane influx of information he had just been handed.

You actually did love him. Or, at least, you used to.

His mum had been right all along, you didn't hate him because he was inherently unlovable, you hated the walls he built and the bitter distance he forced between you two.

He rolled over to nuzzle his face in his hands as a twinge of regret pierced his chest because knowing the truth didn't make the air any easier to breathe. Rather, it made the weight ten times heavier. Knowing you had once wanted him didn't mean he had any idea how to fix the broken pieces now or how to make you look at him without seeing the monster he had let himself become.

Jake had no idea when he actually managed to fall asleep, only that when it finally happened, it felt less like resting and more like slipping into a coma.

The next thing he knew, he was being forcefully pulled out of said sleep by someone yelling his name, the muffled shouts echoing off the hard surfaces of the clean apartment.

"Jake!"

A door slammed open down the hall, followed by the furious clatter of boots against wood.

"Jake! Where the fuck are you?!"

The voice was breathing hard and barreling through the rooms like a storm looking for a place to strike. Jake lay paralyzed on his mattress for a fraction of a second, he could feel his heart pounding in an immediate panic but his fogged mind struggled to process the sound, struggled to bridge the gap between his lingering dreams and reality, until the cadence of the voice finally registered.

It was Jace.

Groggily, Jake shoved his duvet off his legs and swung his feet onto the cold floor, rubbing his hands over his face to force his eyes open. "Jace...?" He called out, his voice deep from sleep.

He didn't even make it three steps toward the bedroom doorway before the door was thrown wide and hitting the drywall with a slam. Jake didn’t even get a chance to create to the sound before a pair of hands slammed into his chest and shoved him backward with enough force that he stumbled back a few steps.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" Jace barked, his face was red in anger and his eyes were wide and burning in anger.

Jake reeled back, lifting his hands defensively in front of his chest, still swaying slightly from disorientation. "What...what are you talking about? What?"

"Don't you play fucking stupid with me!" Jace yelled at him, stepping right into his personal space and pointing a finger directly into Jake's face. "Don’t sit there and pretend like you have no idea what you did!"

Jake blinked against the daylight flooding the room, of course he knew what he did, there’s only one reason Jace could be here yelling at him.

"Jace, just calm down for a second—"

"Calm down?" Jace responded with a harsh laugh, pacing a tight circle on the floor before snapping his eyes back to Jake. "I woke up an hour ago to a text from Y/n. Want to guess what it said? She was thanking me. She texted me thanking me for coming to pick her up from that club downtown and making sure she made it back safely."

Jace stepped closer again to his twin before delivering the other half "Except I didn't leave my dorm last night, Jake. I was with Jungwon all night and we fell asleep so I didn't go to pick her up. And there is only one other person on this entire planet she could have mistaken for me."

Jake's posture straightened as the sleep faded from his system and a flare of defensive heat rose up his chest. He took a step back and matched Jace's glare with a cold look of his own. "She called me, Jace." Jake said, his voice rising from how frustrated Jace was making him. "What do you think happened? You think I was just driving around that part of town at midnight looking for drunk girls to pick up?"

Jace crossed his arms tight over his chest as he glared harder at his twin. "Honestly, Jake? I wouldn't put it past you."

His words settled between them and normally, in the old days, like two weeks ago, before everything had shattered, that sentence alone would have been the exact trigger to blow the room apart. Jake's fist would have flown before his brain could even process the insult. He would have slammed his twin against the wall and proved every single vicious thought Jace had about him right.

Instead, Jake just stood there with his chest rose and fell but his hands never left his sides. He slowly shook his head and a look of quiet dissatisfaction settled over his features.

"I'm not going to fight you, Jace." Jake said calmly. "I'm not doing this with you."

Jace blinked, like he was momentarily thrown off by the lack of explosive rage but his jaw remained set and his eyes stayed burning.

"I did the right thing," Jake continued, staring his brother dead in the eye. "She was wasted, Jace. Standing outside some sketchy ass club in the middle of the night, slurring her words and thinking she was talking to you. I was going to hang up and call you—I really was. But I know damn well that if my name popped up on your phone at midnight on a Friday, you wouldn't have picked up. You would've let it go to voicemail thinking I was having another episode."

Jace opened his mouth to snap back but Jake cut him off by stepping forward until they were barely a foot apart. "So tell me, dear brother." Jake demanded, "What was I meant to do? Leave her stranded there? Let some random walk up to her while she was barely standing? I picked her up, brought her to her dorm, put her to bed and I walked out. That's it."

"And you know what else?" Jake added, like it was slipping out before he could stop it. "You're the one that promised to pick her up and you didn't go. Too busy shacking up with your man or whatever. So really, who the fuck is at fault here?"

Jace flinched as if he'd been struck and his chest hitched like he was about to say something but Jake didn't give him room to speak.

"You're looking for a fight and I'm not going to give you one," Jake said but now his tone was drained of heat. "Just see yourself out."

"This is my apartment too, Jake," Jace snapped.

Jake didn't even bother to respond, he had already turned his back on his twin to walk away from the confrontation and head straight back toward his bed, just ready to pull the sheets over his head and block out the rest of the world for another hour or two.

"I told you when we were seventeen to stay away from Y/n." Jace spoke after him, stepping fully into the room now. "And right now, I'm telling you again—stay the fuck away from her."

Jake stopped his feet and slowly turned to meet the pair of eyes burning holes into his skin. "Or what?" Jake asked softly.

Jace's eyes widened slightly and again, he was caught off guard by the unyielding challenge in Jake's eyes. But Jake didn't stop there. He walked around the side of the bed, moving deliberately toward his brother, every inch of his body felt tense, like he was radiating years of suppressed rage.

"No, really. What the fuck are you going to do that you haven't already done, Jace?" Jake asked in a louder voice. "What are you gonna do? Continue to hide the fact that she was in love with me too? Take it to your grave?"

The color drained from Jace's face for a fraction of a second but his expression quickly hardened into a contemptuous sneer. "Oh, please," he scoffed, throwing his hands up in mock disbelief. "You really want to take some stupid childhood crush seriously?"

"Oh yeah? And since when do childhood crushes last up to freshman year of college, Jace?"

Jace opened his mouth, like a sharp retort was sitting right on the tip of his tongue but no sound came out and for the first time since he had stormed into the apartment, Jace was totally at a loss for words, his defensive posture faltered as the silence stretched further between them. He didn't have a defense, Jake knew there was no lie he could spin or justification he could give that would erase the fact that he had kept that truth buried for years.

His jaw twitched, his throat was working hard as he seemed to swallow down his pride. Unable to meet his brother’s unflinching glare any longer, Jace's eyes darted away toward the floor. He squared his shoulders, as if to desperately try to piece back together whatever authority he had left but the cracks in his composure were wide open by now.

"Just..." Jace started, totally stripped of his earlier explosive rage. "Just stay the fuck away from my best friend, Jake. I mean it."

Without waiting for a response, Jace turned sharply on his heel. His heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway before the front door slammed shut behind him with a deafening, final thud that rattled the picture frames on the wall.

Jake stood alone in the quiet of his bedroom, his chest heaving as the echo of the door slamming gradually faded into complete silence.

"Just..." Jace started, his voice strained and lower now, stripped of its earlier explosive rage. He pointed a tense, trembling finger at Jake's chest, leaning in one last time. "Just stay the fuck away from my best friend, Jake. I mean it."

Jace didn't wait for Jake to say anything else, he was already turning to leave and Jake just stood there listening to his footsteps fade down the hallway before the front door slammed shut that it rattled the picture frames on the wall.

Jake's shoulders didn't drop for five minutes after he left, his body felt heavy again, like his muscles were aching in that same way. He was starting to feel like a brand new person cause this Jake immediately grabbed his medication and swallow, followed by the rest of a bottle of water on his nightstand. He was about to toss the bottle in the trash when his phone burst to life on the wooden surface with a call.

Jake was willing to let it go to voicemail but the caller caught his eye—Jay.

Out of all the guys in his fraternity, Jay was one of the very few Jake actually respected and was tolerate. Jay wasn't like the rest of the frat brothers who enjoyed the surface level pleasures, Jake could've easily branded him the most level headed person he'd ever met, he was sensible and rarely got dragged into useless drama, so if Jay was calling, it was usually important.

And that's why Jake picked up. "Hey, Jay," Jake said into the phone.

On the other end of the line, an unruly irruption of sound immediately hit him, there was the muffled sound of a speaker playing somewhere outside. He could hear the chatter of a crowd and the sound of the wind like they were in the middle of a backyard kickback.

"Jake! Man, where the hell have you been?" Jay's voice came through, loud but genuine as usual. "It's been like three days since anyone at the house saw your face. Are you good?"

Jake rubbed a hand over his face, dragging his palm down his jaw as he stepped out of his bedroom and walked into the living room. "Yeah, man. I'm fine." He lied without missing a beat. "Just...been handling some stuff at home."

"Alright, well, as long as you're alive. The guys were starting to think you went completely off the grid," Jay said with a short laugh.

As Jake was about to respond, a giggly female voice broke through the speaker on Jay's end, it was loud enough to cut over the background music. "Jay! Who is that? Who are you talking to?"

"It's Jake," Jay replied away from the mic.

"Jake?!"

Oh no.

A quick squeal of thrill reached Jake's ear, followed by a brief rustle of static like the girl grabbed the phone directly out of Jay's hands.

"Jakey!" Her voice sang into the receiver, immediately heavy handed and flirty. "Oh my goodness, where have you been hiding? I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Jake froze in the middle of his living room, his brows pulling together as he tried to match the voice to a face. His mind was a total blank, he couldn't remember her face, let alone her name but he knew her voice was familiar. She was the one of a girls he'd been hooking up with for the past month or so.

"I literally left my top at your place last week," she huffed playfully. "I've been needing it back so bad. Can I come over right now to pick it up? Are you home?"

"Oh hi...you." Jake greeted awkwardly, attempting to play along to cover up the fact that he didn't have the faintest clue who he was talking to. He cleared his throat, his eyes dancing around the clean surface of the coffee table and the back of his sofa. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, you can come pick it up."

Holding the phone tightly between his shoulder and his ear, Jake walked back to his room and actively began searching for the top.

"Oh yay! I'll be there real soon."

When the call finally ended, Jake tossed his phone onto the bed and ran a hand through his messy hair.

Finding the random pieces of clothing girls would leave behind used to be easy when his place looked like a hurricane had hit it but ever since the cleaners had gone through the apartment, everything was impeccably neat. Every surface was wiped clean and every stray item had been safely tucked away.

That's why it took him nearly twenty minutes of digging through his closet and then the stack of folded laundry before his fingers brushed against a cropped piece of fabric. He pulled it out and held it up by the straps, only to scoff at the sight of it. It was the most basic black tank top imaginable, something that couldn't have cost more than five dollars. She obviously didn't care about the shirt and it was just a weak excuse for her to come back over to his place.

He walked back out to the living room and set the top on the arm of the couch, then he pulled a meal prep container out of the fridge and quickly heating it up so he could force himself to eat every bite. Once he was done, he headed straight into the bathroom to wash off the film of the morning's drama that was hard to ignore.

He was vigorously rubbing at his wet hair after his shower and just as he reached the living room, an expectant knock hit the front door.

"Timing's great." He muttered to himself, dropping the

towel around his neck and grabbing the top off the arm of the sofa, just ready to hand it over and send her on her way.

But when he pulled the door open, she had other plans. He extended his arm to her with the piece of fabric in it before he even fully looked up. "Hey."

"Here's the top." The girl with her oversized sunglasses pushed up onto her hair didn't reach for it. She quickly pouted and crossed her arms over her heavy chest instead. "Really? What? You're not even gonna invite me in?"

"I'm actually pretty busy right now," Jake threw out, taking a small step forward to block the entrance.

"Oh, come on, it'll take two seconds." She rolled her eyes, already sliding right past his shoulder into the apartment and because she had spent the night there a bunch of times, she didn't hesitate for a second before heading straight to the kitchen as if she owned the place. "I am absolutely parched, Jakey. You have any iced coffee?"

"Look, you really need to go," Jake said to her as he followed her bouncing frame, his patience wearing dangerously thin. "I have stuff I need to deal with today."

She completely ignored him, opening his fridge and humming to herself as she scanned the shelves. "Ugh, the frat house has been so boring without you these past few days, Jakey. Honestly, it's been a total drag. Some guy from lacrosse tried to hit on me last night literally ten minutes after he came out of a room he was fucking my friend in. Like, gross, right?"

She grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, snapped the cap off and took a long sip, simply blatantly ignoring Jake's rigid posture and icy expression.

Jake leaned back against the edge of the kitchen island, tossing the black tank top onto the countertop beside him. "I'm serious. You got your shirt, now you need to head out."

Instead of moving toward the door, she closed the distance between their bodies, stepping right into his personal space so she was standing just inches away from where he leaned against the island. She tilted her head back to look up at him, intentionally arching her back so her low cut top left very little to the imagination as his gaze dropped for a split second.

"You're so tense." She drawled, reaching out to rest a manicured hand lightly on his bare chest, right over his collarbone where the towel was still resting. She looked up through her lashes, before dropping her tone into a suggestive whisper. "I really missed you, you know? You've been making yourself so hard to find."

Jake had to actively suppress the urge to cringe right in her face. The way her eyelashes fluttered and the exaggerated pout of her glossed lips felt so intensely performative that it almost made his stomach turn.

Before he could take a step back, both her hands slid up from his chest and wrapped tightly around the back of his neck, digging her nails into the skin just above his towel. She arched up on her tiptoes and tugged him down until their faces were barely an inch apart.

"Well?" Her eyes searched his face and she was clearly unbothered by his lack of enthusiasm. "Are you gonna answer me, Jakey? Did you miss me too or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty?"

Jake looked down at her, desperately trying to summon a name. Kylie? Chloe? Ashley? His brain remained a frustratingly blank.

She was pulling out every single classic play in her book, every calculated and seductively slow move that would have worked on him without a second thought just a week ago. Seven days ago, he would have picked her up, thrown her over his shoulder and taken her straight to his bedroom without asking a single question, just to use her body to drown out whatever residual noise was rattling around in his head.

But right now, none of it was working. The touch of her hands on his neck felt almost invasive, the smell of her perfume wasn't sweet this time.

The only reason he hadn't immediately untangled her fingers from his skin and marched her straight out the front door was because his brain was currently burning alive. The sound of your voice all soft and slurred, confessing that you had wanted to love him was still ringing in his ears. Jace's furious face, accusing him of crossing boundaries and being intrusive was flashing behind his eyelids every time he blinked.

The unbearable load of regret and anger was pressing down on his chest so hard that he could barely draw a clean breath.

He needed a distraction, needed something, in fact anything to make the noise stop, to tear your face out of his head and burn down the memory of his twin's accusations.

So his hands moved before his rational mind could stop them. Jake reached down his to grab her small waist with a firm pressure that had her gasping. He pulled her flush against his body, leaning down until their lips were close.

"Mm. You wanna remind me why I missed you?"

He just needed to lose himself in the mindless effort it would take to fuck this girl, all he wanted to do was drown out you and his brother, even if it was only for an hour or two.

When she tiptoed up to kiss him, he didn't pull back, leaning into it and encouraging her instead, his hands moved lower to grip her hips before lifting her completely off her feet. He hoisted her up and set her down on the edge of the island, the startling movement sent a stray glass sliding an inch to the side.

She let out a soft moan against his mouth as her hands moved, she even reached down to take his hand and guide it under her shirt, pressing his palm flush over her breast for him to squeeze. Jake obliged, his fingers tightened lazily over her skin as he groped her like he was just going through the motions.

Except something was deeply wrong because even with the heat of her body and the desperate way she was clinging to him and the low noises she was making as she kissed his neck, his body simply wasn't responding the way it was supposed to. Between his legs, he was completely numb. Yes, his heart was racing but it wasn't from desire, it seemed to be from the adrenaline of trying to force a reaction that wasn't there, in other words—he was flaccid.

She worked a trail of wet kisses down the side of his jaw, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered something breathless and needy. Jake squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw as he tried with everything in him to concentrate, he was trying to picture anything or anyone that’ll get his body to cooperate and drown out the mental noise.

Realizing the kitchen island was only making him feel more detached, he reached under her thighs and easily picked her up off the counter. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, giggling happily into his neck at the new shift as he carried her out of the kitchen and down the dim hallway toward his bedroom.

He tossed her onto the mattress with a soft thud, the heavy blankets shifted under her weight when she tumbled back. Her giggles buzzed against the quiet of the room, so high and eager, she was already pushing herself up onto her elbows and looking up at him through heavy lids, she really wasn’t wasting a second, quickly scrambling forward on her hands and knees across the bet to reach out and tug his sweats down.

Jake stood over the edge of the bed, panting in shallow breaths while his mind was still feeling like thunderstorm. He wanted this to work, he needed this to work.

She yanked the sweatpants down over his hips, pulling his underwear down with them. Then she froze. Of course she did, he still wasn’t hard one bit.

Her hands hovered right near his thighs as her eyes registered what was in front of her, the man wasn’t even showing a trace of an erection.

"Oh...?" She hummed, her flirtatious smile was already faltering into a look of confused disappointment. She tilted her head up to look at his face and a sharp spike of mortification hit Jake like a bucket of ice water, burning hot across his chest and cheeks. He quickly gave an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"Ah...sorry," he muttered in a strained voice. "Just...give me a minute, yeah? It's been a long morning."

"Take your time, Jakey." She said sweetly but Jake could hear the faint edge of impatient judgment in her voice and it only made his skin prickle more. She sat back on her heels and watched him with expectant eyes.

Jake looked down at himself, biting his inner cheek so hard he tasted blood. He grabbed himself, wrapping his fingers around his cock as he stroked it roughly, he needed to summon the physical response that usually came so easily but his body felt detached from his brain, he was numb to the touch of his own hands and numb to the girl sitting on his bed waiting for him with her tits out.

Come on, he growled at himself internally. Come on. Get it together.

Frustrated, he squeezed his eyes shut to cut off the sight of the bedroom and the girl on the bed. He was trying to think of anything that turned him on, any primal thought that could pull him out of his own head and force his blood to pump where it was supposed to. He tried to recall old memories, random hookups, dirty videos, anything that had ever worked before but nothing stuck. Everything washed away in the overwhelming fog of his own exhaustion.

And then, unexpectedly, his mind supplied a memory from just a week ago and it wasn’t even a sweet memory.

It was you, standing on the cold sidewalk outside, illuminated by the warm streetlights, your chin tilted up as looked at him like he was the scum of the earth. He heard your angry voice slicing right through him, berating him, calling him every horrible thing you could think of, screaming at him for ruining everything.

He remembered the intoxicating power you held over him in that exact moment, the burning fervor in your eyes locked onto his, demanding his undivided attention, caring enough to hate him with every fiber of your being. It hit him like a lightning strike and his pulse spiked immediately, the blood rushed south and in seconds, before he could even push the image of you out of his head, his cock twitched and hardened in his hand until he was throbbing and leaking.

He opened his eyes to look at his, almost not believing it was real. The girl's eyes widened as she watched the sudden transformation, she let out a delighted laugh. "Well, damn," she beamed as her earlier annoyance disappeared instantly. "Guess you really just needed a second."

Without waiting another beat, she leaned forward and wrapped her fingers around the base of his length, taking him deep into her mouth.

Jake threw his head back, his fingers tangling in her hair, he couldn't deny that she was good at what she was doing. The physical sensation was undeniably amazing, she was swirling her tongue effortlessly around his sensitive tip, gliding down his length and taking him deep into her throat without even a hint of a gag.

Every wet suck sent a jolt of pleasure straight up his spine, forcing involuntary grunts to leave his lips. Yet, as good as it felt physically, his mind was miles away, still held hostage by the thought of you.

A wave of humiliation washed over him, turning his stomach into a tight knot. He had never felt so utterly wrecked and exposed in his entire life. How the fuck had the vivid memory of you tearing into him, screaming at him, scolding him with those furious eyes give him a rock hard boner when a gorgeous, willing girl naked on his bed couldn't even make him twitch?

Was it some sick, twisted masochism? Or was it simply the terrifying reality that it was you? That even your rawest anger and deepest hatred were more intoxicating to him than anyone else's pleasure?

He felt filthy. Was he really so tragically gone for you that even the memory of your anger was the only thing capable of pulling him out of a slump?

It was a dangerous realization, like a true loss of control that made his skin feel like it was burning from the inside out. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, gripping her hair tighter until she whined.

And then, just as he was getting close to edge, her tongue was doing wonders, the warmth of her mouth slipped away abruptly, her hands released his hips too and his eyes snapped open. He looked down at her sat back on her knees and staring up at him with a frown. Her lips were slick with his precum but it was the way her eyes narrowed with both confusion and rapidly mounting offense that threw him off.

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

"Who the fuck is Y/n?" She snapped in a clipped way that definitely wasn’t flirty or sexy anymore like it was minutes ago.

Jake froze and if he was about to deny it, he’s pretty sure the speed at which his features lost color would’ve given him away.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Don't what me, Jake." She sneered, throwing her hands up in utter disbelief as she scrambled backward toward the headboard, pulling the top sheet over her naked chest. "You just said her name. You moaned it, actually."

"No, I didn't," Jake said instantly, in all honesty he had no idea if he had actually said your name. "I didn't say anything. You're mishearing things."

"I am not mishearing things!" She shouted out of nowhere. She pointed a sharp finger straight at his face, her eyes widening even further as a memory seemed to click in her head. "Wait...hold on. Isn't Y/n that girl always trailing your brother around campus? His best friend?"

The room suddenly felt like a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding. Every muscles in Jake’s body locked all at once as panic gripped him tight.

"Shut up," Jake hissed at her. "Just shut the fuck up. You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Oh, really?!" She screeched louder, throwing the sheets off her legs and scrambling off the mattress with embarrassed rage. She grabbed her discarded top off the floor and held it to her chest. "I don't know what I'm talking about? I literally had your whole dick in my mouth and you're groaning another girl's name!"

"You are fucking unbelievable! You could've just said you didn't want me here. You could've just told me you weren't in the mood instead of pulling this psychopathic shit!"

"What the fuck are you on about?!" Jake barked back at her as she walked out of the room, he was pulling his sweats from his ankles, yanking them up over his hips and following her into the hallway.

"I told you to leave like three fucking times! I literally blocked the front door! You're the one who forced your way inside, went to my fridge and came onto me!"

"Whatever, Jake! Whatever!"

Her voice hit a piercing frequency, like the sting of rejection had morphed into total scorn. "I can't even believe this! You're actually sitting here fantasizing about your brother's best friend? Are you insane?"

"Keep her name out of your fucking mouth." Jake snarled, stepping right into her space and towering over her frame.

"Why? Because it's the truth?!" The girl was unbothered by his glare, now that her pride was completely shredded. "Isn't Y/n basically like your fucking sister?! You guys grew up together! That is so incredibly sick, Jake. You are an absolute weirdo. A pathetic, sick fucking weirdo—"

"Just get the fuck out!" Jake yelled, his voice booming off the high ceilings as they spilled into the living room. His fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were stark white, his chest heaving as he pointed a rigid finger straight toward the front door. "Get your shit and leave my apartment right now!"

"Gladly!" She snatched her purse off the island with a clatter. She spun around like she was about to deliver one last insult but the words never came.

The front door was swinging close and standing right in the middle of the living room with Jace’s spare key dangling loosely from trembling fingers was you.

Your lips were parted and your breath panting in your chest while your wide eyes were darting between the half dressed girl standing in the middle of the living room and a shirtless Jake in stunned horror.

Every single word she had just shrieked had clearly met your ears, every accusation, every mention of your name, every sick detail of what had just transpired in his bedroom, they were still resounding off the walls of the living room.

The world around Jake went fully mute, like the ringing in his ears was melting into a sickening stillness as his eyes locked onto yours.

The girl's mocking laugh cut through all that very quickly though. "Oh my God," she wheezed in fake amusement as she looked between your frozen frame and Jake's stiff body. "Not the Y/n actually showing up. Wow. That is just...that is rich."

She turned toward you, crossing her arms over her chest with a malicious smirk. "Do you know that your childhood friend thinks about you when he's getting his dick sucked?"

Before another word could leave her mouth, Jake snapped, as if the last of his restraint broke. He crossed the short distance between them in one terrifying stride, his hand shooting out to lock around her wrist. He didn't say a word or even yell. He just hauled her backward, yanking her straight to the door and ignoring the offended gasp she let out, he was already slamming the door in her face though.

"I...I'm sorry," you stuttered out.

"I was looking for Jace," you blurted as the words tumbling out of your mouth in a desperate attempt to explain away your presence, seeing as you’ve never been here before. "His...his location said he was here. I was just worried he wasn’t answering his texts but...I uh I guess it's just his phone he left behind."

You pointed at the floor near the entryway rug.

Jake followed your line of sight to Jace’s phone, sitting right beside the baseboard, it must have slipped out of Jace's pocket during his explosive exit earlier and he just didn’t notice.

Jake stared at you, just speechless as you quickly bent down and scooped the phone off the floor, slipping it into the back pocket of your jeans with shaking hands.

"I'm...I'm just gonna leave now," you refused to even look him in the eye as you backed up toward the threshold again, your fingers blindly reached behind you for the doorknob. "I'm sorry. I'll just go."

The humiliation of the whole situation, the lingering chemical haze in his system and the agony of having you standing right there, looking at him like he was a complete freak, it all exploded into another wave of defensiveness.

"Yeah," Jake muttered under his breath, turning his back to walk to his room. "You're real good at that."

The words were low but in the quiet apartment, they hit like a whip crack.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You scowled at him.

Jake stopped by the couch and grabbed a shirt he had tossed there earlier and yanked it over his head in a harsh move. "It means what it means," he started, staring you right in the eye. "You're fucking amazing at running away, Y/n. It's basically your signature move."

"What the fuck does that mean, Jake?" You doubled down, stepping further into the apartment and letting the door click shut behind you. Your voice rose, trembling from leftover hangover nausea and a new anger. "I literally just walked into your apartment while you were—while some naked girl was screaming at you! I came here looking for Jace! What the hell are you even talking about?!"

Jake laughed in your face but it was a humorless laugh as he rubbed a hand aggressively over his face, only to push his damp hair back off his forehead. He took a long breath, before just waving an offensively dismissive hand toward the door.

"Whatever," he tossed out flatly, like he was trying to shut it down before he completely lost his mind. "Forget it. Just go."

"No. No, absolutely not," you snapped, planting your feet firmly and placing your hands on your hips as you glared at him. "Tell me what you meant. You don't get to say shady shit like and just tell me to leave. Tell me what I'm running away from, Jake."

"From me!" The sudden volume of his voice shattered the fragile air between you. He took two steps forward until he was looking over you. "You run from me! You run from whatever the fuck happened between us and you run from your feelings for me!"

You stared at him as your mouth helplessly dropped open in bewilderment, right before your features hardened into a wall of resistance. "I don't have any feelings for you, Jake."

"Are you out of your mind? I have never had feelings for you. Unless you’re talking about how much I hate you."

"Sure," Jake scoffed and smirked but it didn’t match the way his eyes looked broken. "Sure you don't. Newsflash, Y/n—I don't know if your brain was too fried from all the alcohol to remember anything from last night but I was the one who came to pick you up from that sketchy club downtown."

You blinked at him, your hands dropped from your hips to your sides as you stumbled over your own tongue. "What...? What are you...no, Jace took me home—"

"Yeah, Jace," Jake cut you off, throwing his hands up in mock celebration. "Oh great guy, Jace! Except Jace was sound asleep in his dorm with Jungwon all night! It was me, Y/n. I answered your call. I got in my car at midnight, drove twenty minutes downtown and dragged your wasted ass off the sidewalk!"

"You're such a liar," you whispered but you couldn’t ignore the dread you left as you flipped through your drunken memories from last night. "You're lying to make me feel insane—"

"Am I?"

"Do you want me to list everything out for you? Do you want me to remind you how you slurred your words into my shoulder while I carried you up three flights of stairs?"

"Stop it," you pleaded while your chest started to feel tighter. "Jake, stop—"

"You told me all about how I make it hard for you to love me," he just kept going even with pain in his voice vibrating off the walls. "You told me you loved me all the way up to freshman year. You said it, Y/n. You said it right to my face! Mrs Jake Sim"

"Stop!" You screamed and shoved his chest with both hands with enough force to make him step back. Tears of mortification were already spilling over your eyelashes. "You had no right! You had no fucking right to be there! You should have called Jace! You should have left me alone!"

"You called me!" Jake shouted back, throwing his arms wide in complete frustration. "You called my number! And even if you thought you were calling him, what was I supposed to do, Y/n?! Leave you stranded on the side of a dark road in the middle of the night?!"

"Why does everyone in my fucking life act like I'm some kind of monster?!" Jake yelled, his voice cracking down the middle. "Why does Jace and why do you think I'm horrible enough to just leave you stranded out on the road, just helpless for some random guy to pick up?! For fuck's sake, Y/n, no matter how much you hate me, no matter how much shit has gone down—how could you ever think I wouldn't come get you?"

"You are horrible, Jake," you spoke so calmly that it made Jake shiver but he was laughing right after.

"I'm not." He shook his head. "I'm not, Y/n and you know I'm not. If I was really as horrible as you keep pretending I am, you wouldn't have been so in love with me for that long."

Watching your wide eyed reaction, Jake saw the realization hit you like a train but he couldn't stop the dam from bursting. He had kept these poisons locked in his chest for far too long.

"I know I've been a bad person," he started. "I know I've fucked up! I know I've pushed everyone away, I know I've made terrible choices but I am trying, Y/n. I am trying so hard to fix myself and to make things better."

A tear finally escaped his right eye but he didn't even bother to wipe it away.

"Do you have any idea?" he choked out as each breath scraped his lungs. "Do you have any fucking idea how long I've been in love with you? Did Jace ever tell you how I was the one who wanted to take you to the dance? Did he tell you how my whole family basically bullied me out of it?"

Your heart slammed against your ribs so hard it felt bruised.

"Did I ever say a single word when you gave Jace all the credit and all your love for that necklace?" Jake continued as his eyes dropped down to your chest where said necklace sat. "The one you still wear around your neck every single day?"

He pointed right at the delicate chain tucked beneath the collar of your shirt.

"I got you that, Y/n." Jake sobbed out softly but a bitter smile was touching his lips as well. "I spent four months saving up my allowance to buy you that thing. I think I actually gave it to your mum but somehow you just assumed it was Jace."

The floor seemed to shift under you suddenly remembered Wednesday in the dining hall, when Jungwon had asked about it and Jace had no memory of buying it when you claimed he did, you had teased him for having such a terrible memory that he couldn't even remember buying his best friend her favorite piece of jewelry.

Except there was no memory for Jace to have, he hadn't forgotten buying it—he had never bought it at all.

It had been Jake. It had always been Jake, standing in the corner, watching you give his brother all the love, all the smiles and all the credit for a gift he took time out to get for you, while he took the blame for being the distant and heartless twin.

You had no idea when you started to sway where you stood but the room was spun sideways as the crippling heaviness of his confession hit you all at once. It was like the narrative you had spent years carefully constructing and believing was crumbling into dust and the next thing you knew he was catching you from falling.

"Woah—hey," Jake breathed out with his voice now filled of protective concern, his hands shot out to catch you by the waist, steadying your weight before you could lose your balance completely. The new proximity was so sudden and when your palms reflexively landed on his broad chest, all you could feel was the erratic beat of his heart.

The heat rolling off him was almost stifling the narrow space between you and when you slowly tilted your head up, your eyes wet with tears met.

Jake was also left in pieces, his eyes were glossy too but also lined with exhaustion and stripped of the usual cocky defiance you were used to. He looked down at you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the floor, like you were his whole world while his thumb was brushing a shaky circle against the side of your waist through the fabric of top.

The silence hanging in the air was so fragile, both of you knew it was stretched to its absolute breaking point but Jake still spoke.

"Please," he started, voice barely louder than a breath. "Please tell me you still love me, Y/n."

You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, Jake Sim loved you? Jake Sim loved you too?

"I—I’ve never stopped loving you."

New tears blurred your vision and poured down your face as you looked up at him through the haze. "You made it so hard, Jake...why did you do that? Why did you love hurting me?"

The heartbreak in your voice knocked the air right out of his lungs and his face contorted into a look of remorse.

"I'm sorry." His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you a fraction closer as if afraid you'd vanish, like his next words would have you leaving. "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/n. I was a child...but that doesn't even excuse a single thing I did. I was a fool. A blind and arrogant fool and I just…I didn't have the maturity to handle what I felt for you, I didn't know how to love you right."

He leaned down and pressed his forehead directly against yours, making you feel his uneven breath fanning over your lips.

"I can make it right," he pleaded in a desperate whisper, using his thumb to brush away a stray tear on your cheek. "I can make it right now, Y/n...if you just let me. Please, just let me."

You had no words left, every wall you had built over the years to keep Jake Sim out was gone, every argument burned away by the passion hanging between you. Your bodies were pressed flush together and his chest was rising and falling against yours with his hands placed tightly to your waist. This was the closest you had ever been to him, way closer than the years of stolen glances, closer than the shared childhood memories, closer than the bitter screams in your memories.

His lips were right there, inching barely a breath away and calling out to you in a way you had spent years trying to ignore and heaven help you, you couldn’t fight your feelings for a single second longer, you leaned up and kissed him.

Jake was immediately inviting, how could he not be? His mouth opening against yours with a starving fervor that made your head spin. His hands slid down to firmly wrap around your thighs, hauling you up just enough that your feet were barely tiptoeing on the hard floor but you were pinned directly into his heat and that’s all he wanted.

The kiss deepened in a matter of seconds, slick with tongue and an eager battle of years of unspoken yearning finally breaking through. When he parted his lips from yours, he dragged his mouth down the sensitive path of your jaw, burying his face into your neck and kissing over your skin, sending a helpless whimper tearing from your throat.

Your impatient self couldn't take the space, you were already reaching up and tangling your fingers tightly into the locks of his hair to forcefully tug his head back up and capture his lips again.

Jake groaned into your mouth and reality crashed over him through the sensory overload, he felt the dangerous momentum building between you two, he really did try to create a inch of distance, his hands shifted to press gently against your shoulders.

"Wait—Y/n, wait," he rasped out, trying to catch his breath. "Let’s—let's just breathe for a second—"

But it seemed like you weren’t having it, you were far too deep, too consumed by the thought of him actually loving you as heartbreakingly as you loved him.

Without pause, you grabbed the hem of your top and yanked it over your head to toss it blindly onto the floor. Before he could even process the sudden flash of your bare skin and commit it to memory, you reached for his shoulders again and jumped this time, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist so he was forced to catch you.

Jake’s arms reacted on pure instinct and his hands shot out to firmly scoop under your thighs, supporting your entire weight as his chest heaved against yours and looked up at you like he was putty in your hands, you could ask the man to kiss your feet right now and he’d do it without thinking.

All you could think of in that moment was how many nights you had spent deep in this exact fantasy. A stray thought crossed your mind—would the girl who had just stormed out get a kick out of finding out that you had always fantasized about Jake, too? That all her cruel insults were useless because you had wanted him just as terribly?

Jake turned and carried you straight down the hallway toward his bedroom, your legs locking firmer around him and your hands buried in his hair. He was fully aware of the sickening irony that you were the second girl he had carried down this exact hall in the space of two hours but as he looked up at you, he knew you were the only one that actually mattered.

When he set you down on the edge of the mattress, his hands lingering on your hips for a fraction of a second before slipping away. He just stood there, just frozen and watching as you kicked off your shoes and shed your jeans. He was totally enthralled by you, taking in every single inch of bare skin like a man seeing water after a lifetime in the desert.

Following your lead, he quickly stripped off his sweatpants. "You're so gorgeous, Y/n." He said to you. "So fucking gorgeous."

He closed the distance between you again, leaning down to capture your mouth in another deep kiss, his hand slid around to your back and his fingers made quick work of your bra clasp. The front popped loose and as his palm immediately cupped your bare breast, his thumb and forefinger lightly pinched your sensitive nipple.

A gasp broke against his lips, one he could feel in his chest. His grip tightened around your waist as he pulled you along with him and sat back on the edge of the bed, guiding you to straddle his lap. As you settled over his thighs, you tried to ignore his bulge poking against your thong, he was already leaning down to bury his face in your chest, taking one of your nipples deep into his mouth.

He sucked it into mouth, swirling his tongue around the peak until your hands scrambled for purchase against his broad shoulders and your back arched further into him. "Mmm Jake." You moaned out, unable to help the way your hips began to roll and tilt over his lap.

Jake grunted against your breast, gripping your thighs to keep encourage your movements, moaning at the feel of your wet folds against the bulge in his boxers. He was about to switch to your other breast but before his mouth could move, your hands shifted up to his shoulders and you firmly pushed him back.

He let himself fall at your will, landing flat against the mattress with a laugh. "Oh, okay," he grunted softly, a smirk full of ecstasy catching the corner of his lips as he looked at you.

You shifted your flimsy thong to the side and you your body turned in his lap, reversing your position so your back was to him. He didn’t get the chance to even ask what you were doing before you were lowering yourself over his face, bringing your wet folds right above him.

Jake’s eyes widened at the view but he quickly regained composure and his hands immediately locked around the sides of your hips and he knew exactly what to do.

He also knew he was amazing at it, too and an arrogant confidence settled into the way his hands gripped your thighs, holding you firmly in place.

He parted his lips and buried his mouth right into your dripping pussy, wrapping his wet mouth around your swollen folds. The first touch of his tongue sent a shudder straight through you, making you moan instantly.

"Nghh—Jake. Fuck."

He seemed to be taking his time with the way he glided his tongue deliberately around your throbbing clit, setting a steady gentle tug that made your hands scramble wildly for purchase against his knees and the sheets. The heat of his mouth was utter torture, every flick of his tongue kept hitting the exact right spot, precisely driving you over the edge until your hips began to roll helplessly against his lips and you were riding his face not even caring if you smothering the man.

Jake was just as drunk on the pleasure as you were, so lost in the scent and taste of you as you rode his face, also not caring that you were smothering him. His hands dug firmly into the plush of your thighs and add, holding you down against his mouth as his tongue worked in the best strokes you’d ever felt.

"Ohh shit! J—Jake!" You sobbed out. "Mmm yes."

He met every roll of your hips with long, wet licks, sealing his lips tightly around your swollen folds. Every time he got a moan out of you, he vibrated a muffled chuckle straight into your skin, just loving every second of how you were using him. He loved the total weight of your body pressing over him, loved the helpless way your thighs shook against his ears and he loved knowing that every winded gasp echoing through his bedroom was because of his mouth.

"God, fuck...you taste so good, Y/n," Jake said against your wetness. "So fucking good for me."

Overwhelmed by the fervor, you tried to reach down for the waistband of his boxers. "Need...need yo—," You attempted to speak but your words were cut off when he wrapped his lips around your clit and started to suck just like he did your nipple.

You hooked your fingers under the elastic and dragged his boxers down just far enough to free his thick length. You were totally driven by the desire to drive him just as crazy as he was driving you, you adjusted and lowered your head down toward his lap to take his cock into your mouth. But the moment the warm head brushed past your lips and tasted his precum, Jake swirled his tongue directly over your clit again and your entire train of thought shattered.

"Oh god Jake! Your tongue—! Ahah—!" You cried but your voice was muffled with his shaft slipped into your mouth.

The pleasure was simply too much for you to function, so you ended up just resting your lips over the head of cock. “Mmmph...Jake, you’re gonna make me cum,” you whined softly around him, not able to actually suck him off the way you intended because your mind was far too fractured. You just hovered there, moaning and trembling, letting your hot mouth wrap around his tip while you rode the wave of agony his tongue was pounding into you.

Jake let out a moan of his own into your folds as your moans vibrated directly against his cock. His hips twitched up beneath you, his nails curled into the softness of your thighs while he picked up the pace.

"It’s okay, love. You don’t have to suck it, just moan around it." You heard him say. "Mhmm, just like that. Let me feel you."

He shifted his focus to your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over the swollen knot in fast licks that grew sharper and faster with every second.

"Jake—Jake, stop, wait—!" You wailed sitting up as your whole body started to shake cause you were right at the verge of cumming. "I'm—ah!"

He realized you were about to try to run away so he held on tighter as your back arched and your thighs trembled uncontrollably against his head.

"Can I put a finger inside you?" Jake asked you but the tone of his voice made you completely freeze up.

There was no suave or cocky authority in it. It was thick with desperation in a way you hadn’t expected.

"Please, Y/n," His whines were softly muffled against your pussy and a small, pathetic sound caught in his throat as his forehead pressed hard against your hip. "Fuck...please? Just one. Let me..."

You gasped, the shock of it really cut through your pleasure. For years, you had built up this image of Jake in your head—imagining that if he ever got you into his bed, he would be completely in control, demanding and just ruthlessly dominant. But here he was, literally squirming beneath you, with his voice high and breathless while he begged for your permission like a boy who couldn't bear the thought of taking a single thing without you giving it to him first.

A squeal tore from your throat. "Yes! Yes, Jake, please—"

The moment the words left your mouth, he let out a needy breath of relief and not wanting to waste another second, he slid a thick finger deep into your tight heat.

"Ah! Jake! More!"

"God, you're so damn tight...fuck," Jake said, his other hand trembling as he began curling his finger downward, desperately seeking out that one spot inside you.

He didn't hold back at all, already pumping his finger in and out in deep thrusts, opening you up and working you until your pussy gushed wet heat all over his hand. The whimpering noises he made against your skin were unhinged, he was practically sobbing into your core as his tongue lapped up every single drop of slick pouring out of you while he continued to finger you. He moved his tongue on your clit, turning your moans and cries into music like he was begging you with every stroke to just let him give you more.

Before you could even catch your breath or get used to the finger inside you, Jake slid a second finger right beside the first.

"Jake…that’s..hmmm yes!"

He pumped them in and out so good, crooking them downward to hit places deep inside you that you couldn't possibly reach on your own. Every targeted thrust had you bucking against his face, losing your mind over the depth he was reaching.

Driven completely out of his mind too, Jake latched back onto your clit again, harder this time like he had forgone all restraint. He was gloriously messy about it, sucking hard, spitting and slurping at your swollen pussy with loud, wet noises that bounced around the room. A continuous moan coiled straight from his throat directly into your pussy as your wetness gushed freely, running down his jaw and dripping onto his neck.

He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, but instantly replaced them with his tongue. He thrust it deep inside your entrance, curling and working it to stretch your pussy as far as it would go, mimicking the exact rhythm of his fingers while his hands clamped onto your hips to keep you still.

In the blinding veil of it all, you managed to lift your heavy eyelids open and through your blurry vision, you looked down past your chest to find Jake’s hips twitching involuntarily against the mattress, his thighs shook with every stroke he gave you. His hard cock was twitching against air, unattended with steady stream of precum leaking from the tip and making a path down a prominent vein.

He was so overtaken by giving you pleasure that his own body was weeping for relief, yet completely at your mercy. You watched with lust as he shifted his heels firmly into the mattress, digging them in as his hips began to thrust up into the bare air.

Watching him twitch and squirm beneath you was intoxicating and driven by curiosity and a sudden surge of power, you reached down to wrap both of your hands tightly around his leaking cock.

"Ahhh—no, please—!" Jake yelled into your pussy, his whole body jerked at the sudden contact and his hands tightened on your hips so hard his knuckles turned white. "Y/n, fuck, don't—"

But you didn't listen, you twisted and pumped your hands over his slick length, establishing a tight rhythm. The combination of your hands working his shaft and the taste of you on his tongue threatened to send him completely over the edge. His tongue started faltering, like he was losing all focus, even starting to slur unintelligible words directly against your wet folds.

"Oh...shi—, Y/n...please..." He begged but his hips were thrusting upward directly into your grip and he was chasing the friction of your palms with needy little twitches.

You were simply amazed at the sight, the sight of this loud, guarded, stubborn guy completely unraveling in your hands, whimper for whimper, totally at your mercy. He was so close, he knew he as and he couldn’t stop his core from shaking as he bucked into your touch.

"I'm—I'm gonna cum—Stop! Shit, Y/n, I'm gonna cum! P—Please!" He cried out and before he could let go completely, he suddenly grabbed your wrists and stopped your pumping hands in their tracks with a harsh tug.

He was flipping you over quickly and the world spun as he manhandled you onto your back, pinning your wrists beside your head as his bigger frame settled over yours.

He closed his eyes for a painful minute, the he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a low stream of curses into your skin, every muscle in his shoulders locked tight as he fought back the edge he had almost tumbled over.

"Fuck...fuck," he groaned in a shaky voice. He lifted his head and opened his eyes to look into yours with nothing but desperation. "I was so fucking close...but I can't. I want to make love to you first, Y/n. Please? Can I please?"

You didn't answer with words, you reached down between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his pulsing cock to line the thick head directly against your drenched hole.

Jake gasped at the sensation, his hips twitching forward but as his hand moved down to shove your thong further out of the way, the thin lace gave out under his eager grip, tearing down the middle with a loud rip.

He paused for a second, looking at the torn fabric hanging in his hand. "Oh...I'm sorry," he mumbled, looking back up at you but the expression on his face completely betrayed him—his eyes were blown out with lust and a faint smirk tugged at his lips that showed he wasn't really sorry at all.

Before you could scold him for it, he grounded his hands firmly into the mattress on either side of your head, resting the hot tip of his cock against your entrance, his jaw clenching as he slowly began to push inside.

"Jake...mmh, wait—it's so big..."

The moment the words hit his ears, Jake had to tightly shut his eyes again. "Don't—fuck, Y/n, don't say that," he pleaded with a voice so strained as he fought the urge to just slam all the way home.

Realizing how tight you were around him, he forced his hips to stay still for a moment and reached down between your bodies, using his thumb to find your swollen clit and began to rub soothing circles against it, deliberately trying to coax your body into relaxing for him.

"Breathe for me, love," he whispered against your skin, leaning down to press soft kisses to your lips, then to your cheeks and down to the corner of your jaw.

As your body melted under his touch and the tension in your thighs began to give way, Jake took advantage of the shift, groaning low in his chest and slowly pushing the rest of his cock all the way inside your tight pussy, burying himself to the hilt.

The sheer feeling of him stretching you to your absolute limit was overwhelming and every small shift of his hips brought another helpless whine spilling from your lips.

"Jake, fuck...it’s too big," you repeated, your fingers dug into his shoulders as your breath hitched in your chest. "You’re so...ah, Jake...Mm my pussy."

Jake gave a tormented grunt, trying to pull back just an inch to establish a new pace but your walls were clamped so tightly around his length that he could barely move.

"Y/n, shhh—fuck, stop whining like that." His words choked him. He buried his face into your neck again, like he was fighting for control. "You’re so fucking tight, love...I swear to God, if you keep making those noises, I’m gonna cum right now."

He managed to stay completely still for a second, locking his hips flush against yours while his breath came out hot against your skin, he was trying with everything in him not to lose his mind inside you before he even truly started.

Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, blurring the sight of him as he finally established a deep pace. The sheer size of him, mixed with how deep he was sinking into you with every roll of his hips, made your head spin.

"Jake...fuck," you moaned out as you looked up at him. "You’re—you’re in my stomach..."

Jake’s eyes snapped to yours, suddenly drunk on how vocal you were being for him. A possessive spark lit up his face. "Where?" he asked, pausing his hips for a second but making sure he was deep. "Where, my love? Show me."

Shaking uncontrollably, you lifted one hand from his shoulder and pointed to the lower curve of your belly, right where you could feel the solid pressure of his cock stretching you.

A melting look softened his sharp features and a breathless coo escaped his lips as he looked down at your hand. "Right there, doll? Hmm? I'm right there?"

You gave a quick nod, so pathetic while your bottom lip trembled as more tears ran down your face.

"Fuck, you're so sweet for me," Jake was undone by the sight and now driven by the urge to get even deeper, he

reached down and grabbed your ankles, hauling your legs up and tossing them directly over his shoulders.

The new angle opened you up completely, plunging him straight to your absolute limit in one sharp, powerful thrust.

"Oh my god! Jake! I—I can’t!" The new depth hit the sensitive sweet spot inside you that Jake had been looking for.

"Mm? You like that?" Jake growled out, a triumphant smile catching on his lips as he picked up the pace a little more. His broad palms slammed flat against the mattress beside your head and his hips thrusted into you with a faster pace, every deep stroke brought out even louder moans that drove him out of his mind.

"I want to cum...fuck, Jake, I want to cum so bad!"

The unbearable coil in your lower belly tightened to a breaking point and driven wild by the deep pounding, your hand scurried down between your sweaty bodies. Your fingers found your swollen clit and started rubbing fast circles over the tender nub. That made your walls clamp down on his cock harder, literally sucking him deeper with every involuntary pulse.

Every nerve ending in his body screamed at him to just let go and cum inside your pussy right then and there.

"God—You’re driving me crazy, Y/n."

He dug his knees into the mattress, the muscles in his shoulders and thighs locked up as he fought with everything in him to keep his own orgasm at bay. He refused to end it yet, too intoxicated on the sight of you taking him so well, too addicted to the unfiltered sound of your moans and the loud slapping of your bodies colliding together.

"That's it, love…mmhm take it," he grunted through his gritted teeth, pushing his hips forward in intentional grinds that pushed your fingers directly into your clit. "Cum for me. Come on. Let go."

The unrelenting pressure inside you snapped all at once and a gasp was caught in your throat as your orgasm shattered through you like an earthquake. Your pussy walls contracted so tightly and with so much force, that you practically expelled his cock, pushing him back out of your entrance as your whole body arched off the bed.

Jake let out a startled noise, eyes dropping down to look between your legs where your pussy was pulsing in hard waves and your folds were fluttering, literally soaking the mattress beneath you in hot gushes that spurt freely over his thighs and the rumpled sheets.

"Fuck...fuck, Y/n." Jake gasped out, awestruck as he stared down at the wet mess you were making all over his bed.

"Hmm...no, don't look!" You squealed, as embarrassment suddenly washed over you, you threw both hands over your eyes, trying to hide your face from his gaze.

"Don't look?" Jake echoed but his voice was so dark with possessive satisfaction that you had to look at him. "God, I am so fucking in love with you. Look what you did to my bed, love."

You couldn’t even offer him another word of defense or tell him that you loved him too, he had grabbed your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. You gasped as he gathered your hips, pulling your lower body back to bring your trembling thighs flush against his.

Then he guided his thickness right back against your pussy. "Look at you hiding your face like you didn't just wreck me."

He was already thrusting and pulling you back to meet him. "Oh fuck mr! Jaeyun! Yes yes yes!" You screamed into the pillow.

Jaeyun?

Now that he had already seen you completely unravel, all his restraint was gone. His grip on your waist got tighter and began pounding into you with a powerful rhythm. Every thrust was harder, faster and deeper than before, the wet slapping sound of his hips against your ass hit your ears as he took you over and over again.

"I love you, Y/n." Jake grunted right against the shell of your ear. He slammed forward, his hips drove his fat cock straight into exactly where you needed it. "Fuck...I love you so much."

You couldn't even form proper sentences anymore, your body was reacting on pure instinct and your tight walls were pumping slick cream all over his shaft with every single hit.

"Oh godddd! Jaaaake!" Your hands clawed at the sheets beneath you. "Right there—fuck, right there Jake!"

"I'm so fucking in love with you, baby...I can't even think straight..." He pulled your body up so your back was to his chest and his palm was pressed to your belly, right where he could feel his cock thrusting into you.

The confession plus the blinding sensation of his cock grinding against your sweet spot, broke down whatever remaining barrier you had left.

"I love you too!" You threw your head back against his shoulder. "I love you, Jake! Ah—!" "You—You’re going to make me cum again!"

Hearing those words spill from your lips was the final straw for Jake, he gave one last guttural sound from the back of his throat, his grip tightened around your stomach as he placed kisses and bites on your neck, his thrusts turned fast and unhinged as he chased his own final peak right along with you.

He grabbed you by your hair and slammed you down into the pillows, pinning your face firmly as he delivered his final thrusts. The possessive weight of his hand held you completely anchored, leaving you helpless under his hips.

"Cum with me, love." "Fuck...cum on this cock right now. Please."

"Yes! Yes, Jake!" You responded, sliding your arm between your wet thighs, you pressed your palm flat against your swollen clit, slapping and grinding against the swollen knot.

The visual shattered whatever fragile hold Jake had left, watching your hand work wildly over your clit while he pounded into you, mixed with the tight spasms of your walls suddenly clamping down around him again, it all pushed him right over the cliff.

"Fuck—! Y/n!" Jake roared, his entire body locking up, he slammed his hips all the way forward and shoved his thick length to the absolute hilt deep inside your pulsing pussy. His chest heaved as he came violently, an endless torrent filling you up completely as your body shuddered under his. His grip on the back of your head softened into a tender hold, his forehead dropped to the pillow beside your head as you both rode out the overwhelming waves of your shared release.

Jake collapsed over you, carefully keeping most of his weight propped up on his forearms, refusing to crush you. His skin sweaty just like yours and when he shifted his weight, reaching down to wrap a thick arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest because he wanted nothing more than to hold you close while your heartbeats slowed together.

"Hey..." he called out to you and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"Don't." you choked out, pressing your hands hard against his broad chest.

Jake’s heart almost stopped beating. He looked down at you and his brow squeezed together in instant confusion. "Y/n...?"

As the feverish haze of the moment rapidly cleared, the air in the room suddenly turned cold and when he looked down into your face, he didn't see the soft look of someone who had just confessed their love. He saw the sudden panic and a crushing look of regret staring back at him and a sharp spike of fear shot straight through Jake's chest,

"No...no, wait," he muttered, watching as you forcefully pushed yourself up off the mattress, breaking away from his touch as if his skin burned you. "Y/n, baby please wait,"

"Don’t—Don’t call me that, Jake. We...God, we shouldn't have done that."

"What?" Jake sat up instantly, not knowing what to do while you searched the room for your discarded clothes . "Y/n, what are you talking about?"

You didn't look at him, your hands were trembling so badly you could barely function as you frantically searched the floor, snatching up your shirt and scrambling to pull the pieces of your clothes together.

"This was a mistake," you whispered. "Jake, I...I have to go."

"Y/n, stop! Please, talk to me!" Jake panicked, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and quickly pulling his boxers on. His eyes were wide and terrified as he realized you were pulling your clothes back on, the confident, loving man from seconds ago entirely shattered by the sudden distance between you.

"Look at me! Please, don't just leave like this—what do you mean a mistake?"

"I mean we shouldn’t have had sex!" You blurted out loudly, shoving your arms through the sleeves of your top. The panic in your chest was consuming, making your hands shake so badly you could barely button it. "Oh God...what would Jace say?"

Jake went completely still. "What?" Jake asked in disbelief. "Jace? What the fuck does Jace have to do with this?"

You didn't answer, you just couldn't, so you grabbed your shoes from the floor, desperate to reach the door and escape the room. But before you could take two steps, Jake moved, stepping directly into your path, using his hands to grip your shoulders gently and blocking the doorway. His touch wasn't forceful but it was solid enough to ground you and stop your escape in its tracks.

"Y/n, stop. Just—please, calm down for a second so I can speak." He pleaded, eyes searching yours. He took a deep breath, sliding his hands down to wrap around your trembling wrists.

"Look, I know I sound like a broken fucking record by now," Jake started, "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Yes, I know we shouldn't have just had sex right now. I know the timing is fucked up and I know everything between us is so complicated. But I can't take it back, Y/n. And...Fuck me, I'm not even sure I would take it back."

You were already starting to cry again.

"I know I can't ever take back the things I've done to hurt you," Jake continued, softly stroking over the pulse points on your wrists with his thumbs. "I know I fucked up in the past. But by God, Y/n...I want to try. I want to learn how to love you the way you actually deserve to be loved. I'm so done running from this." He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw as he addressed the name hanging like a rainy cloud between you.

"And Jace?" Jake said softly, looking straight into your eyes without flinching. "I know he's going to have his reservations. I know he's going to hate me and I know he's going to try and protect you from me. And I'm ready for that. I'm ready to deal with whatever Jace throws at me because losing you again? Not fighting for you right now? That's the only thing in this whole fucked up world that actually scares the shit out of me."

The tears welling in your eyes fell down your cheeks and Jake’s thumb quickly brushed them away. His own eyes were glossy as he continued to speak.

"I know I can't fix everything in a day, or a week, or a month," he whispered. "I know it might take a whole fucking year—or longer. But however long it takes for me to make it up to you, Y/n...I'm here. I'm not going anywhere this time. I am fucking anchored to you."

He took a shaky, ragged breath, his broad palms rising to cup the sides of your face, holding you like you were made of glass, like he was terrified that one wrong move would cause you to shatter right through his fingers.

"I've been in love with you my whole life," Jake confessed, "I know this is what I want. I've always known. I want the fight, I want the mess, I want every single piece of you. But...if you don't want this? If being with me hurts too much, if looking at me just reminds you of everything I broke...I'll understand. I'll step back and let you hate me."

You stood utterly frozen in his hold, the violent trembling of your shoulders slowing as his words settled deep into your chest. You looked up into the dark depths of his eyes.

Through the wet sheen of your tears, the light caught a warmth in your expression, there was something undeniable and overflowing in it, like a quiet truth you couldn't hide even if you wanted to.

Just pure love.

Jake's eyes widened as he caught it and his grip on your jaw tightened just a fraction, his heart hammered in his chest as he waited on the cusp of his entire life. Your lips parted and a ruined gasp left them as you opened your mouth to finally give him your answer—

‎ ₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒⊹

The fabric of the silk floor length gown, the jaw dropping piece you knew for a fact had cost more than your entire university tuition, courtesy of Jake’s ridiculously deep pockets, well it was currently bunched in heavy folds around your waist.

Instead of walking out the door toward the car, you were pressed flat against the back of the small sofa in the entryway, your heels digging uselessly into the rug as Jake buried his face between your bare thighs.

"Jake—fuck, stop!" You gasped out, your fingers tangling frantically in his styled hair. "We don't...Oh fuck—! We don't have time for this!"

He didn't listen, apparently sight of you stepping out in the backless dress had wiped his composure off the map and now his hands were locked around your thighs, holding you pinned while his tongue lapped relentlessly at your dripping center.

Every time you tried to push him away, he’d flick his tongue just right over your clit, turning your stern protests into embarrassingly pathetic moans that were music to his ears.

"I'm serious!" You whimpered, your head falling back against the cushion as a heavy surge of heat coiled low in your belly. "Jace and...oh God, Jace and Jungwon are going to kill us if we're late for their anniversary dinner!"

A low vibration hummed straight against your wet folds as he chuckled and the vibration alone sent a shudder straight to your belly.

"I’ll handle them," Jake’s voice came out completely muffled, his words slurred against your drenched skin before he clamped his lips over your clit and sucked hard, letting go cause he just couldn’t shut up. "They can wait...you look too fucking good to leave this room..."

He flicked his tongue deep into your entrance, tasting the slick mess he was making of you, his hands pushed harder into your hips to pull you even closer into his mouth, just indifferent to the clock ticking down on the wall.

His tongue got messier, slicker and even ruthless, sending wet licks all the way up to your clit before dragging his tongue straight back down into your tight entrance and shoving it in.

"Jake, nooo—your shirt!" You tried to remind him as you felt the crisp cotton of his dress shirt against your inner thighs. "You're gonna ruin it, baby, come on—"

"Don't give a fuck," he grunted out against your skin, not slowing down at all.

His mouth went completely wild, lapping at you with heavy, frantic strokes as he used his grip on your waist to guide you into riding his lips.

The angle was lethal, your heel clad feet were kicking in the air from the pleasure and as you dug your fingers deep into his scalp to keep yourself steady, the small band of the gold promise ring he’d given you for your six month anniversary pressed firmly into his skin. The subtle bite of the metal seemed to turn him on even more and a low groan rumbled through his chest.

A breathless smile broke across your face, followed by a helpless little giggle as the pleasure began to build in your belly.

"Jake...oh God, it feels so good," you whimpered out, your hips rolling helplessly over his tongue. "I'm—I'm gonna cum, Jake, I'm so close!"

"Mmh I know, baby. Cum on my face," he encouraged, squeezing your hips to keep you riding his mouth through the rising tide.

Your back arched as a breathless cry tore through you, your whole body trembling as a drenching climax crashed over you. Your inner walls fluttered desperately, flooding his mouth with your sweet release.

Jake didn't miss a single drop, holding you firm and humming in satisfaction as he greedily licked up every trace of your orgasm, lapping at your sensitive folds until you were completely weak and breathlessly melting back into the sofa cushions.

He grinned up at you from his position on the floor, then he stood up to help you slide your panties back up over your legs, smoothing the delicate fabric over your hips with entirely too much care. But the second they were in place, his palm came down with a stinging slap right against your ass.

"Hmm...mine," he rumbled with a smug grin.

Before you could swat his hand away, he was kissing your lips and taking your hand to his hair so you could tug at his hair just the way he likes. But as your fingers tangled into his locks and his tongue parted your lips, your thoughts drifted backward, sinking deep into the blurred timeline of the past year.

It really hadn't changed overnight.

Those first few months had been a delicate tightrope. As expected, Jace had been violently skeptical, refusing to even sit in the same room as Jake without a tense silence filling the air. There were nights you spent crying, terrified out of your mind that loving Jake meant losing Jace forever. But slowly, so painfully slowly, they had started the long process of repairing what had been broken. It wasn't perfect but the wall between the twins was finally coming down, inch by inch.

Your mind flashed back to the day you finally sat down with their family, terrifyingly nervous, to announce that you and Jake were officially together. You had prepared a whole speech, only for their mom to look up from her tea, roll her eyes dramatically and mutter, "Finally. It only took you two a decade." Before giving you a hug.

When Jake’s tongue brushed against yours, you remembered last summer at the Sim lake house. With the heat, the smell of pine and freshwater, the endless sound of laughter echoing off the dock with Jace, Jake, Sloane, Jungwon, and even Jay. You had spent the days swimming until your skin burned and lounging in the sun, surrounded by the people who mattered the most.

Jake really couldn't keep his hands off you for more than a few hours at a time that entire week. The memory of him sneaking you away from the group to drag you behind the boat house or locking the door to the guest cabin, just to push your sundress up or shift your bikini bottoms out of the way and bend you over whatever surface was closest because he was so starved for you.

You moaned into his mouth, kissing him deeper as you remembered the morning after one particularly loud night in the cabin, sitting at the breakfast table while Jay and Sloane relentlessly teased you about the wooden bed frame creaking through the thin walls until sunrise. Before you could die of embarrassment, Jake had just casually raised an eyebrow as he poured his coffee, instantly turning the blame on his twin and his boyfriend, claiming they were the ones keeping the whole house up with their own late night activities. The sheer chaos that exploded at the table after that had given you both just enough time to slip away unnoticed again.

"See? Perfect," Jake bragged, breaking the kiss and snapping you out of your head, pointing to his spotless shirt. "Didn't ruin it at all. You worried for nothing, baby."

"You are unbelievable," you muttered, rolling your eyes but the softness in your chest from every memory brought you right back to him, grounding you completely in the present.

Jake just chuckled, stepping in close to wrap his arms around your waist. He pulled you flush against his chest and leaned down, pressing another lingering kiss directly to your lips and now that you weren’t elsewhere you could taste yourself on his lips.

"I love you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes softening into that warm, devoted look that always made your chest ache.

"I love you too," you murmured back, then he leaned back with a dangerously playful spark lighting up his eyes. A smirk spread across his face as he offered you his arm.

"Shall we...Mrs. Jake Sim?"

Your jaw dropped. "Jake! Stop!" you squeaked out, smacking his shoulder in pure embarrassment as you tried to hide your face from him. "Stop teasing me with that! Oh my God, I was like six!"

"What? It's a nice name," he teased, laughing softly as he caught your hand and kissed your knuckles then your wrist, definitely enjoying how flustered you were over the childhood nickname you used to call yourself. "Okay, okay, I'll stop."

He offered you his arm again, leading you out the door toward his car but as you stepped into the hallway, a quiet determination settled deep in his chest.

Until I make it true, he thought to himself.

taglist i ── @fancypeacepersona @usuallyunlikelyfox @starry-eyed-bimbo @strayy-kidz @mheretoreadff @bloomiize @xoenhalover @mamuljji @gabrielinhaa @ieatwon @rialikesbts @lunacrtk @dulcetnostalgia @lovel1z @kristynaaah @c1eod1n3 @pqrkjyx @tojiworshipper @loverseon @yazmike @ravenslocked @enhxlvr @mangoescrazy @hees-h0e @stayalittlelonger143 @hazevelyn @sour-chaos @skzenhalove @mochi-mika @isagistar @baedreamverse @jvngw0nlvr @deobitifull @prettygirlthings-world @ravenslocked @ricecakeslove @lenolalalie

© nephynes 2025

"A-aa..."

You shut your mouth right away, lips presing into a tight line as Jake kept on sucking your swollen clit.

Your legs shook, hole spasming with each flick of his pierced tongue against your throbbing bud. He was moaning against you, plump lips slick and messy with your arousal and his saliva, eyes lidded as he felt you shiver.

Your back dug into the bedside, hips shifting more against his hungry mouth. Rug under you now only rubbing uncomfortablly against your skin. Jake thrusted against the floor, painful bulge rubbing against the fluffy carpet. His cock throbbed, leaking an enormous amount of fluid inside of his boxers and sweats.

"Aaah—"

You couldn't contain the low moan that escaped you, onyl praying it reached him and his ears only.

Hoping that people downstairs didn't. That your parents were too busy doing something. Watching TV, talking about some unimportant trivia. Anything. Just anything except hearing what you two were up to instead of going over one of the final lessons for the big acceptance exam.

Jake was not stopping anytime soon. Simply pulling away when he felt you were too close. Edging you into oblivion.

You were already sore. Pussy ached, clit throbbed violently at each one of his tugs. But it still felt too good.

Too good when his piercing pressed directly to your swollen bud, carresed the dripping folds before dipping into them.

"Do you like it more now?"

Jake's voice vibrated against your heat, lips swollen and slick as he looked up at you. You nodded back, gulping down a glob of saliva at an attempt to regain your composure back. But it's not helping. Jake smirked, tongue out again as he tenderly poked your clit, again and again.

You gripped the carpet, biting your lip as you tried to keep quiet.

Never did you think one simple comment would lead to this.

Never ever did it cross your mind.

But a simple conversation about his tongue piercing as you both skimmed over the last lesson somehow ended up like this. A simple and careful "It's interesting. The piercing. I like it." felt like a switch had flipped between you two as the eye contact that took place after it prolonged more than it should have.

Now, with his head between your shaky thighs — you did like it more.

Your thighs convulsed unstoppablly, Jake's brows raised as he detached himself from your pussy again, licking the mess that stuck to his lips. The arms that circled your thighs rested on your hips as he scanned your red intimate flesh. You were so sore, swollen and leaking, begging for more.

"You're shaking so much."

Sweat clung to your exhausted body, eyes stuck and not moving away from his face. He laughed humorlesly, eyes flicking to meet yours again. Before you could utter anything, his mouth engulfed your slit whole, tongue exploring the sensitive folds more the nth time already. He didnt break the eye contact, simply devouring you, making out with your pussy mercilessly as you gasped, trying to move away from him but still helplessly bucking against the savage action.

He sucked your clit, hard.

Your toes curled, fingers griping the fluffy carpet under you as you tried to conceal the desperate moans that clawed their way up your throat. They were breathy, low — almost a whisper that you hoped only he could hear and register. Because right now, you were hanging onto that thin string of control you fought so hard to even still exist.

He finally released your poor bud, but not for long before he kept on teasing it with his tongue, the tip of it flicking right over it. Your lips opened soundlessly, head leaning back against the bed as your lidded eyes stayed locked onto ceiling.

He was so good at this. Fuck.

A coil formed fast at the pit of your abdomen, threatening to snap any second as he kept on playing with your clit, tip of his tongue not letting it reast for a second.

Jake made a mess of you. Wetness was all over your inner thighs, sticking the your skin so tackily. It dripped down your ass cheeks, damping the poor rug more and more. Your hips stuttered against his tongue, grinding into the overwhelming stimulation.

A choked sound left you as the knot was the verge of bursting.

But then he pulled away.

You groaned in protest, hips stilling as your muscles relaxed after the continuous torture. Jake left a kiss on your inner thighs, unhooking one of his arms from under your thigh and letting his fingers come over to your folds.

His middle finger dipped into the hot mess, sliding up and down the ruined pussy as he pecked your thigh again and again.