you’re fifteen. they’re thirteen, maybe fourteen. still stuck in that world where afternoons stretch out forever, filled with video games, bike rides around the block, and inside jokes you never bother to understand. you roll your eyes at them most of the time, stepping over tangled controller cords and empty soda cans on your way to do something more important, thinking they’re just kids and you’re already so much older.

jay is just jungwon’s shadow back then. wherever your brother goes, jay follows, always a step behind, a little quieter, a little more careful. it’s easy to ignore them. it’s easy to be busy with your own life, too busy dreaming about the future and flipping through college brochures you don’t even know if you want. they’re just noise in the background, a constant buzz of laughter and slamming doors and the rumble of sneakers on the stairs.

but people don’t stay the same forever.

jay starts getting taller, his voice losing the high, sharp edge it used to have. his hair gets longer, and he starts wearing beat-up converse with little drawings in sharpie on the rubber toes. sometimes you catch glimpses of him when you’re rushing past, and something about him feels different, but you’re not paying close enough attention to figure out what. you’re still too busy worrying about math tests you might fail and love stories that haven’t even started yet.

until one day, you do notice.

it’s a saturday, late september. the air is still warm, but the evenings are starting to cool down, and the house smells like dust and old wood. you come downstairs, half-distracted, looking for your walkman because you promised yourself you’d organize your tapes today. you find them sprawled out on the couch like always, controllers in their hands, eyes locked on the television screen where some new game you don't recognize is flashing bright colors. jungwon shouts something you don't catch. jay laughs, really laughs, head thrown back against the cushions, and you feel it in your chest, sudden and sharp.

he looks different when he laughs like that.

you stand there for a second longer than you mean to, walkman forgotten, and jay glances over at you. just a quick look, but he smiles a little, like he’s happy to see you. like you’re not just jungwon’s sister passing through the room. and for the first time, you smile back.

you don’t know why it catches you off guard. maybe it’s the way his hair falls into his eyes, still messy but different now, like he means it to look that way. maybe it’s the way he’s stretched out on the couch, longer, broader, the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up to his forearms, his whole body lazy and comfortable like he belongs there, like he’s always belonged. maybe it’s just the way he looks up at you when he notices you standing there, not with that clumsy, wide-eyed look little boys get around older girls, but something steadier. familiar. like he knows exactly who you are, and he’s not scared of it.

you freeze for a second, your heart knocking strangely against your ribs. because jay isn’t just jungwon’s weird friend anymore. he’s jay.

the guy who starts hanging around the kitchen more, pulling up a chair while you’re finishing math problems you don’t really understand, pretending not to watch you struggle before quietly trying to help you. the guy who steals fries off your plate like it’s no big deal, like it’s normal, like it’s always been that way. the guy who borrows your worn-out paperbacks without asking, then returns them with the pages bent and little notes scribbled in the margins that he pretends he didn’t write. the guy who teases you just enough to make you roll your eyes, nudging you with his shoulder when you’re being too serious, who always knows when to back off if you’re having a bad day. the guy who learns how you take your coffee without you ever telling him.

it’s not one big moment. it’s all the tiny ones stacked together, like old mixtapes in your drawer, like lazy car rides with the windows rolled down and some song you both half-sing along to playing too loud on the radio. it’s afternoons lying on the living room floor, arguing over which band is better, your arms barely brushing and neither of you moving away. it’s the quiet comfort of someone who’s seen you cry over dumb movies and scream at thriller ones and doesn’t seem to mind any version of you.

sometimes you catch him looking at you like he’s trying to remember the way you laugh, like he’s memorizing it just in case. sometimes you look back.

but life keeps moving, whether you’re ready for it or not. you’re seventeen, almost eighteen, and everything starts feeling too small. the house, the town, even the streets you thought you knew by heart. there are college acceptance letters taped to the fridge door, and graduation gowns thrown into the backseat of your beat-up car, and a kind of heavy goodbye already sitting inside your chest even though you haven’t left yet.

your prom is on a sticky, humid friday night. you decide not to bring a date — you tell everyone it’s because you just want to have fun with your friends, and that’s mostly true. it’s easier that way. just dancing until your legs ache, laughing until your cheeks hurt, taking blurry disposable camera photos you know you’ll look back on someday and miss, even if you don’t feel it yet.

jay is there too, somewhere in the crowd, wearing a suit jacket that doesn’t fit quite right and a tie he keeps loosening like he can’t stand it around his neck. you catch glimpses of him across the gymnasium, in flashes of strobe lights and spilled punch and bad eighties ballads crackling through the speakers. he’s laughing at something jungwon says, head tilted back the way you love, and for a second it’s easy to forget that everything’s about to change. just for a second. 

when his eyes finally find yours, it’s not a big thing. no dramatic pause, no heart-thumping moment where time slows down. just a small, familiar look, a tiny lift of his eyebrows, a barely-there tug at the corner of his mouth, like he’s saying, there you are. like he’s been looking, too.

you catch him later, leaning against the wall, looking at his shoes, looking like he’s thinking too hard about something. you walk over without really deciding to.

"having fun?" you tease, nudging his shoulder with yours.

he glances at you, the corners of his mouth pulling up into that lazy smile you’ve grown too fond of. "define fun," he says.

you laugh, and for a moment, neither of you moves. the music shifts, and the soft buzz of a slow song fades out, replaced by the upbeat strum of a guitar. just like heaven by the cure fills the room, and you feel it immediately—the energy picks up, the rhythm infectious, almost impossible to resist.

show me, show me, show me how you do that trick—the words swirl around you, playful and light, like they’ve always belonged here.

you glance around at the couples shuffling together, trying to get their feet in sync, the way everyone’s pressing close to one another, still unsure, too stiff. and then, you look back at jay.

"wanna dance?" you ask, your words light, but your heart’s racing just a little.

jay hesitates, just for a second. then he shrugs, the corners of his mouth lifting again, like it’s all the answer you need. "sure."

you’re expecting it to be awkward, the too-far-apart distance, the fumbling hands, the inevitable laughter that’ll cover the embarrassment. but it’s not like that at all. jay’s hands find your waist like it’s something he’s done a hundred times before, easy and sure, and you loop your arms loosely around his neck, feeling the warmth of him against the cool gym air. it feels... effortless. like breathing. like it’s always been this way.

his hair falls a little messier than usual over his forehead, stubbornly imperfect, like it’s just meant to be that way. his jawline’s sharper now, the angle of his face different, and his skin is warm under the harsh lights, making everything feel a little softer. there’s a crease between his eyebrows, like he’s thinking about something that’s not quite ready to be said.

you feel it before you even understand it, that pull toward him, low and steady, like a thread pulling you closer. and then he looks down, his eyes meeting yours with the kind of ease that’s new, but not. like it’s exactly what’s supposed to happen. he smiles, small and crooked, and you feel your chest tighten in a way that has nothing to do with the music.

"you’re really leaving, huh," he says quietly after a while.

you nod, your throat tight, the words stuck somewhere between your chest and your mouth. jay’s fingers press a little harder into your sides, like maybe if he holds on tight enough, he can keep you here, even for just a little longer. maybe he doesn’t want to say goodbye either.

the song keeps playing, the lyrics swirling around, “you're just like a dream…” but you don’t really hear it anymore. all you can feel is the way jay’s body moves with yours, how his forehead is just barely brushing yours now, close enough that you can count the little mark on his neck you never noticed before. 

it’s quiet, too quiet, and you wonder if he’s going to say something else, but the words get stuck. so instead, he just pulls you a little closer, his breath warm against your face. "i’m gonna miss you," he says, his voice soft, simple. it’s almost too quiet, like it’s meant just for you, like he’s trying to memorize it.

you blink up at him, the weight of the words sinking in. he’s not smiling now. he’s just looking at you like he’s holding onto the moment, like he wants to keep it in a place that’s safe, tucked away somewhere. "i’ll miss you too," you say, and it’s more honest than you meant it to be. more honest than anything you’ve said in a while.

jay’s hands tighten just a little, like he heard something more in your voice than just the words themselves. and for a second, it feels like the whole room tilts. like there’s something hanging between you, heavier than anything you’ve had to name before. you wonder if he’s going to kiss you. you wonder if you want him to. you wonder if it would change everything, or maybe just fix it.

but then, the song ends, just like that, leaving you with the fading sound of footsteps and chatter, the world rushing back in a little too suddenly. you stand there, still close, the space between you still warm, the feeling lingering like the echo of a song you don’t want to forget. someone bumps into jay’s shoulder, laughing, pulling him a little out of the moment, and just like that, the spell breaks. he steps back, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s embarrassed, like maybe he imagined it too.

"come on," he says, voice a little rough, nodding toward where jungwon is waving from across the room. "he’s probably getting into trouble without me." you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something stupid, like stay or don’t go. instead, you just smile, small and steady, and let him lead the way back into the crowd.

and even when you’re laughing at something stupid jungwon says, even when you’re posing for one last blurry photo with all your friends, even when you’re driving home with your windows down and your hair a mess and the night stretching out around you like something endless—you can still feel it. the weight of jay’s hands on your waist. and the almost of it all.

and then college happens. and it happens fast. faster than you thought it would.

you spend the first few weeks clinging to your roommate like a lifeline, getting lost on campus, pretending you’re not homesick even when you are. you go to every welcome event they offer, eat bad cafeteria food, smile too much, and drink way too much bad coffee. you start telling people where you’re from like it’s a footnote, something small and far away. you write to jungwon sometimes, mostly silly letters with inside jokes and little updates.

you write to jay too, but it’s different. it’s a slow thing, quiet. he sends you a cassette tape he’s made, filled with songs he’s discovered that semester. it feels like a part of him tucked away in the cracks of the music. each song is carefully chosen, a snapshot of his world that he’s willing to share with you. there are some songs you already know—under the milky way by the church, there’s a light that never goes out by the smiths, happy when it rains by the jesus and mary chain—but there are others that feel new, like fall on me by r.e.m., and run 2 by new order. you listen to the tape late at night, lying on your bed in your dorm room, the sound crackling a bit from the old tape player.

the music fills the space around you, and even though you're miles away, it feels like he's right there. you smile at the thought of him picking these songs out for you, the quiet way he’s trying to share himself with you through these notes hidden in melodies. it’s not much, just a tape, but it feels like something important.

you send one back, and you’re careful about it, picking songs that make sense for you, songs that represent the pieces of your world he hasn’t seen. your tape is full of the pop hits that are playing on the radio and the ones you can’t get out of your head. there’s heaven by bryan adams, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle, cherish by madonna. you include hysteria by def leppard because it’s the kind of track that gets stuck in your head for days. right here waiting by richard marx because the lyrics remind you of being away. there’s even out of love by air supply, an old classic from before your time, but you love it anyway, the soft ache in the melody feeling like something you want to keep.

and, of course, you end it with just like heaven by the cure. because it reminds you of him, even if you haven’t figured it out yet.

when you listen to his tape, it’s like hearing him in each song. you start to understand the quiet parts of him a little better, and when you hear his voice on the other side of the tape, talking about how he found a new band, it makes you feel closer to him, even from so far away. but when you listen to your own tape, your music is different from his. and when he comments on it in one of his letters, saying “your songs are... nice. but i like how they’re so different from mine. it’s kind of adorable.” you can't help but laugh, because that’s exactly how it feels. a little piece of you, a little piece of him, strung together by the tapes you send back and forth, each one carrying something new, something personal.

by november, you think you’re finally getting the hang of it. you memorize the shortcuts between buildings. you figure out which vending machines still have good snacks after midnight. you write essays and go to parties and kiss a guy you meet in your creative writing class. one day he asks you to come over, you say yes. you lie on his bed, half-listening to him talk about his favorite bands, and you try to feel something. anything. but when he leans in to kiss you, all you can think about is a different laugh, a different pair of hands. and then you leave before it gets messy. but you tell yourself you’re not running away.

you tell yourself you’re doing great. you’re growing. you’re learning. you’re supposed to feel a little lost. that’s what everyone says, right?

sometimes you find yourself flipping through old photo albums when you can’t sleep. birthday parties in the backyard. summers at the lake. blurry group photos where jay is always a little off to the side, smiling like he’s in on a joke no one else knows. 

you don’t write to him as much after that. you don’t even know what you would say.

then suddenly, it’s december, and you’re coming back home for christmas. home feels smaller somehow. the rooms tighter. the streets more faded, like the whole place is holding its breath. your mom cries when she sees you, wrapping you in a hug that feels like it could last forever. your dad jokes about how you didn’t get any taller, ruffling your hair in that way he always did. jungwon hugs you, a little awkward, like he’s not sure if he should admit that he missed you.

you don’t see jay right away. you wonder if that’s on purpose. it’s funny, you think, how things feel a little different now. everything seems a little more... real. a little more complicated.

then one night, three days after you get back, jungwon says some of the guys are meeting up at the diner, the one that’s been around forever. he says you should come, and even though you don’t really want to—you're tired, you’ve got that homesick feeling lingering in your chest, like you’re not sure where you belong anymore—you let your brother drag you along.

the bell above the door rings when you step inside, a familiar sound that feels comforting and a little strange at the same time. you look around, half-expecting to see everyone as they were before, but the place feels different too. quieter, somehow. then you spot him almost immediately—jay, sitting in one of the booths by the window, his back half-turned toward the door, like he’s been keeping an eye out. the way he looks up when you walk in, it catches you off guard.

your chest tightens, but not in a bad way. it’s more like something you didn’t realize you were carrying finally settles. you hadn’t been sure what it would feel like, seeing him again after all these months—if it would be strange, or awkward, or if the distance between you would be something you could feel, like a wall that you couldn’t cross. but it’s not like that. it’s just him. and somehow, it feels like no time has passed at all.

he’s wearing a black hoodie and jeans, nothing special, but somehow it fits different now. more grown. there’s a faded concert t-shirt underneath — something from the cure or the smiths maybe, you can’t quite tell. the sleeves of his hoodie are pushed up to his elbows, revealing a silver ring on one of his fingers that you don’t remember from before. his hair’s a little longer now, falling into his eyes, messy in that effortless way, like he hasn’t thought about it at all. he looks tired, but good. familiar and new at the same time.

you stand there for a second too long, taking him in, feeling that odd mix of nostalgia and something else you can’t quite place. he catches your eye, and his smile is small but real, like it’s just another friday night, like no time has passed at all. you find yourself smiling back before you even think about it. something eases in your shoulders. you hadn’t realized how tense you were until that moment.

you make your way over to the booth, weaving through the scattered tables. jay shifts slightly to make room for you, his eyes staying on you the whole time. he doesn’t say anything, and it doesn’t feel like he needs to. it’s easy. it’s always been easy with him, even when it wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

when you slide into the seat across from him, your knees brush under the table. neither of you moves away.

the diner’s warm and a little too bright, the light reflecting off the metal and neon in that way only places like this have. outside the windows, you can see the parking lot glowing under the streetlights. you feel a little untethered, like you’re still getting used to being home again, but sitting here, with jay, makes it better somehow.

after a while, the table thins out. people start leaving, slapping each other on the back, promising to meet up again soon. jungwon gets pulled into a conversation near the door, laughing about something you don’t quite catch.

you and jay stay behind, still nursing half-empty drinks, the fries long gone, cold now, and forgotten. jay taps his fingers lightly against the side of his glass, watching the ice melt and clink together, like he’s lost in thought.

"so," he says, glancing up at you, his voice low, "how’s school?"

you shrug. "good," you say. "weird, but good."

"yeah?" he smiles, a little lopsided. "you look good."

you feel your face warm, but you don’t look away. you whisper "you too" and it’s not awkward. it’s not anything big. just two people who used to know each other better, finding their way back in small, steady steps.

he leans back in the booth, stretching his arms out over the seat. "made any weird college friends yet?"

you laugh. "too many. one of my roommates is obsessed with astrology. another one swears she’s gonna start a business selling scrunchies."

jay grins, shaking his head. "sounds like a mess."

"it is," you say, smiling. "but kind of a good one."

he taps the side of his glass again, thoughtful. "must be nice, though. being out there already."

you glance at him. "you’re almost there."

he shrugs. "still feels far sometimes. senior year’s dragging."

"any idea where you wanna go?" you ask.

he runs a hand through his hair. "thinking about it. applied a few places. nothing’s official yet."

"you’ll figure it out," you say, and you mean it.

he smiles, a little softer this time. "hope so."

for a second, you both just sit there, the sounds of the diner filling the space between you — clinking dishes, a coffee machine steaming, a group laughing a few booths over. it’s late enough that everything feels slower, quieter. easier.

"and you?" he asks. "besides making friends with astrology girls. you like it?"

you think about it for a second. "i do. it’s overwhelming sometimes, but... it’s good. i like feeling like i’m figuring myself out a little."

he nods, like he gets it. "guess that’s the point, right?"

"i guess so." you nudge his foot lightly under the table. "and you? besides hating senior year?"

he laughs. "not much to report. football’s over. classes are boring. just trying to get through it."

there’s a part of you that remembers what that felt like, that weird limbo of waiting for everything to change. you realize now how much he’s stuck between two worlds: not quite out of here, not quite moving on yet. "you’ll be fine," you say. "you’re good at landing on your feet."

he raises an eyebrow. "you think so?"

"i know so."

he leans back, looking at you like he’s trying to figure something out. then he smiles. "thanks.", he murmurs. you both fall quiet again, but it’s not heavy. it’s easy, natural, like slipping into a rhythm you didn’t even realize you missed.

christmas break passes fast. you spend most days at home, curled up on the old couch that still sags in the middle, flipping through tv channels that never seem to change. your mom keeps making hot chocolate, your dad keeps pretending not to cry during the holiday movies. jungwon drags you to the mall once or twice, but mostly you just exist. 

it’s snowing by the time christmas morning rolls around. you’re sitting by the window with your coffee, when you hear a knock at the door. you think maybe it’s one of your neighbors, but when you open it, it’s jay. standing on the porch, hands stuffed deep in his jacket pockets, snow dusting his hair.

"merry christmas," he says, a little out of breath, like maybe he ran the last block. he holds out a flat package wrapped in plain brown paper. 

you blink at him for a second, surprised, before stepping aside to let him in. "you didn’t have to."

he shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. "i wanted to."

he kicks his boots off by the door and follows you into the living room, glancing around like he’s checking if he’s interrupting something. but the house is quiet. your parents are upstairs. jungwon’s probably asleep. it’s just you. you sit down on the couch and he drops into the armchair across from you. you turn the package over in your hands, feeling the shape of it, square and thin. your heart tugs a little when you realize what it probably is.

"can i open it now?" you ask.

jay nods, looking suddenly nervous. "yeah. i mean — yeah."

you tear the paper carefully. inside is a brand new LP, look sharp! by roxette. the cover is glossy under your fingertips, all reds and blacks and bright letters. your throat tightens a little. "you said you liked them," jay says quickly. "i mean, i wasn’t sure if you had it already, but..."

you shake your head, smiling. "i don’t. i love it." he relaxes, leaning back in the chair like a weight’s been lifted off him. "wait," you say, setting the record carefully on the table. "i have something for you too."

you get up, digging around under the tree until you find the small box you tucked there last night. it’s wrapped in plain red paper, the corners a little uneven. you hand it to him before you can overthink it. jay looks at you, eyebrows raised, before tearing the paper carefully. inside, there’s a folded black t-shirt. you painted it yourself a few nights ago, hunched over your desk with fabric markers and too many crumpled up test versions. it’s simple, the bon jovi logo in white and red across the front, a little uneven if you look too close, but still clear. still yours.

he unfolds it slowly, running his fingers over the design like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch it. "no way," he says, grinning. "you made this?"

"obviously," you mutter, trying not to sound nervous. "it’s not perfect."

jay shakes his head immediately. "it’s awesome," he says. and you know he means it. he holds it up to his chest for a second, like he’s trying to picture it on, and then he just laughs, soft and real. "this is... seriously. this is the best thing anyone’s ever given me."

you duck your head, feeling your face heat up.

"i’ll wear it to school and make everyone jealous," he adds, winking.

"you better," you say, smiling into your coffee cup.

you spend the rest of the afternoon flipping through your parents' old vinyl collection, showing jay the records you used to love when you were little. you put on wham! way too loud just to annoy him. he groans dramatically but doesn’t move from his spot on the floor, and you catch him mouthing the words when he thinks you’re not looking.

outside, the snow keeps falling. inside, everything feels a little easier. like maybe being home isn’t so bad after all.

and then new year’s eve feels bigger this year. everyone keeps talking about it — the end of a decade, a fresh start, whatever that’s supposed to mean. you don’t know if you feel different yet, but there’s something in the air. maybe it’s just the cold. 

you end up at heeseung’s house with jungwon and a bunch of their friends. it’s packed by the time you get there, kids from all over town squeezed into the living room and kitchen, voices loud, music even louder. someone’s blasting "i wanna dance with somebody" by whitney houston from an old stereo. the bass rattles the windows, mixing with the sound of people laughing and shouting over each other. there’s a big homemade banner taped crooked over the fireplace that says goodbye '80s!

you recognize most of the faces. everyone’s older now, a little different, but not enough that it feels like you’re strangers. and jay finds you not long after you get there. he bumps your shoulder lightly with his when he passes, no words, just a look that makes your chest feel a little too tight for a second.

around eleven-thirty, you slip outside to breathe. the porch light is on, but the backyard is dark, covered in a thin layer of snow that crunches under your boots. the cold bites at your fingers through your jacket sleeves. you tuck your hands into your pockets, watching your breath fog up in the air. a few minutes later, the door creaks behind you. 

"figured you’d be out here," jay says, stepping onto the porch. he pulls the door shut behind him with a soft click.

you glance over your shoulder at him. "couldn’t breathe in there," you say. your voice is small in the cold.

he huffs out a laugh and leans against the railing next to you, close but not touching. his jacket is too thin for how cold it is. you want to scold him, but you don’t.

the music inside is muffled now, but you catch bits of it. "like a prayer" is playing and madonna’s voice strong and sure under all the noise. you both stare out at the yard for a while, not saying much. the snow glows faintly under the streetlights, and somewhere down the block you can hear fireworks popping early.

"weird, huh," jay says eventually. "end of the '80s."

you nod. "feels fake."

he laughs under his breath. "yeah."

you shift a little closer to him without meaning to. your arms brush lightly, and you don’t move away. neither does he. the clock inside starts ticking down. someone yells two minutes! and the whole house cheers. you don’t move.

you think about a lot of things all at once. how he’s jungwon’s best friend, how you’re supposed to be leaving again in a few days, how nothing about this is simple. you wonder if he’s thinking the same things. 

jay glances at you out of the corner of his eye. he looks nervous, but not scared. just unsure. you wonder what would happen if you leaned in just a little more. you wonder what it would feel like, kissing him here, under the freezing sky, with the decade slipping away behind you.

you feel the weight of it sitting between you, heavy and sweet. and for a second, you know he feels it too. he shifts closer and you look up at him. he’s looking at you. and you both stay like that. thinking about it. wanting it. but not moving. and then someone starts counting down inside. the voices rise, loud and clumsy. 10, 9, 8…

jay’s hand brushes yours on the railing. your fingers twitch. you almost reach for him. almost. 7, 6, 5…

you hear someone pop a bottle of champagne. laughter spills out through the walls. 4, 3, 2…

you blink up at him again, heart hammering in your chest. happy new year!

the cheers explode from inside. noisemakers screech.  jay smiles at you. small. a little sad. you smile back, even though your throat feels tight. he lifts his hand like he’s about to say something, like he’s about to do something, but then he just ruffles your hair gently, messing it up the way he used to when you were younger.

"happy new year," he says, voice rough with cold and something else you can’t name.

"happy new year," you whisper back.

he lets his hand fall to his side, standing there awkwardly for a second like he doesn’t know what to do now. you stay there with him anyway, shivering a little, watching your breath curl up into the new year, feeling the almost of it all settle quietly between you.

after a second, jay shifts closer. he slips his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. like he’s done it a thousand times before. you go easily, leaning into him, feeling the steady weight of him against the cold. he’s warm. real. he rests his chin lightly on the top of your head. you close your eyes for a second, breathing him in. 

"i’m gonna miss you when you leave again," he says, quiet enough that you almost don’t catch it. your heart stumbles a little.

you tilt your head just enough to look up at him. "i’m gonna miss you too," you say, and it’s the easiest truth you’ve ever told.

jay squeezes your shoulder gently, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you before you go. and you stay like that for a while, neither of you saying anything else, the cold forgotten, the noise from inside fading into the background. just the two of you, holding onto something you’re not ready to let go of yet.

and the first week of the 90s  slips away faster than you want it to. you spend most of it packing, pretending you're not already thinking about how different everything is going to feel when you leave again.

the night before you go, you’re sitting on your bed, trying to squeeze one last pair of jeans into your overstuffed duffel bag, when jungwon knocks on your door. he sticks his head in without waiting for you to answer. "hey," he says, tossing a small brown paper bag onto your bed. "jay told me to give you that."

you blink, dropping the jeans. "what is it?"

jungwon shrugs. "dunno. just said not to let you forget it." then he’s gone, disappearing down the hall like he’s late for something.

you stare at the bag for a second before picking it up. it’s folded over at the top, taped shut with a ripped piece of scotch tape. your hands are weirdly shaky when you open it. inside, there’s a beaded bracelet, tiny colorful beads strung together on a thin elastic cord. simple. clumsy. perfect. in the middle, white lettered beads spell out a word: stay.

you swallow hard, pressing your thumb over the little plastic letters. tucked under the bracelet is a note. folded up small. you unfold it carefully, smoothing it out on your knee. his handwriting is messy, a little tilted to the side.

figured you could use something to take with you.

not saying you have to. just... thought maybe it’d help.

stay safe. stay happy. stay you.

— jay

you read it twice. three times. then you tie the bracelet around your wrist, the little beads pressing into your skin. it’s light, almost weightless. but it feels like something solid you can hold onto. you don’t take it off, not even when you fall asleep that night.

the next few months pass in snapshots. you get lost on campus again. you spend late nights in the library, half-asleep over textbooks you barely understand. you go to a few bad parties. you leave early from most of them. you find a new favorite coffee shop tucked into a side street no one else seems to know about. you start a playlist called songs for when it’s too quiet and fill it with songs he would’ve hated and songs he would’ve loved.

you write to jay sometimes. he writes back sometimes.

the letters aren’t anything big. he tells you about his senior year, about helping jungwon fix up his beat-up bike, about late nights driving aimlessly around town just because there’s nothing better to do. you tell him about your professors, about getting a B+ on a paper you thought you failed, about the guy who tried to hit on you in line at the dining hall and how you pretended not to hear him.

sometimes weeks pass without a letter. sometimes it’s just a tape in the mail, no note, just a playlist scribbled in sharpie on the cover. sometimes it’s a postcard with two lines written on it and a dumb joke he probably stole from someone else. you keep all of them.

and the bracelet stays on your wrist through everything. lectures. essays. early morning walks across campus when the frost still clings to the grass. some nights, when it’s too late to call home and you miss everything more than you can say, you twist the little beads between your fingers until you fall asleep.

you don’t go back home for spring break after all. something comes up — a group project that runs long, a roommate who needs support, a week that fills up faster than you expect it to. you think about going back more than once, but every time you almost book the trip, something pulls you away again.

you write to jay sometimes. he still writes back. less often now. but when he does, you can feel the way he’s still there. still him.

in one letter, he tells you about a movie night in jungwon’s basement, where the vhs got stuck halfway through and they just ended up making popcorn and talking about dumb dreams. in another, he tells you he’s thinking about cutting his hair, but can’t decide. you tell him not to, that he wouldn’t look right without it falling in his eyes. he writes back: i’ll take that as a no then.

finals come faster than you think they will. the campus is loud, you stay up late cramming for exams, your dorm a mess of open books and laundry you keep forgetting to fold. 

you wear the bracelet every day. you don’t tell anyone where it came from.

when the last test is over, you walk across the quad, your last essay still warm from the printer in your bag. someone’s playing music from their window — here comes the sun, probably as a joke. you look up at the sky and think: i made it. you don’t cry. but something inside you softens.

a few days later, you’re packing up your dorm when a letter shows up in your mailbox. the envelope is light blue, a little smudged. your name’s written in black pen, all lowercase, like always. you know it’s from him before you even touch it. you sit on the floor to read it.

hey! i got in.

it’s not close.  didn’t think i’d actually get it, but i did. i’m happy. or i think i am. i should be. i just don’t know when i’ll be back. maybe not for a while. i’m trying not to think too hard about that part. anyway, jungwon and i graduate next week. mom’s making me take dumb photos in the backyard. hope you’re doing okay. you’re probably already done with your finals by the time you get this.

write if you want.

— jay

you read it twice. then fold it slowly and tuck it into your bag with the rest of your stuff. you sit there for a while, just staring at the wall, the air conditioner humming in the background like it's trying to say something you don’t want to hear. he got in. he’s leaving.

you should be happy for him. and you are. but your chest still aches a little. 

your train gets in a few days later. the platform’s hot, crowded. your backpack sticks to your shoulders and your legs are sore from sitting too long. you don’t care.

your mom cries again when she sees you. your dad makes the same joke about how you still haven’t grown. jungwon picks you up in his old car, which somehow still runs. he talks nonstop on the drive home, half excited, half nervous. you listen, smiling. 

you sit on your bed, staring at the ceiling. the bracelet on your wrist feels heavier now. or maybe just more real.

two days before graduation, you meet jay at the park.

you told him you would, back when you first got home, when the plans were still loose and everything felt far away. but now you’re standing by the old swings, blinking against the sunlight, waiting for him to show up, and it feels like something more than just a plan. the sky’s clear, the kind of summer blue that only shows up when school’s over and everything smells like cut grass and sunscreen. your sandals kick at the edge of the mulch. the trees rustle softly above you.

you spot him before he sees you — coming up the path from the far side of the park, hands shoved in the pockets of his shorts, t-shirt a little wrinkled, hair pushed back like he tried to make it look like he didn’t care. he’s taller than you remember. maybe not actually taller, but something about him feels bigger now. steadier.

when he finally looks up and sees you, something shifts. he speeds up, half-jogging the last few steps, and then he’s there, right in front of you. there’s a beat where you both just look at each other, not smiling yet, not talking, just looking. and then you drop your bag on the grass and step into him. he hugs you like he means it. strong, quick, all in. his arms wrap around your waist and lift you clean off the ground for a second, your toes dangling, your heart thudding in your chest. you let out a small breathless laugh, and when he sets you down again, he doesn’t let go right away.

“you’re really here,” he says quietly.

“told you i’d come,” you say, your cheek still pressed against his shoulder for a second longer before you finally step back.

you both sit under the big tree near the edge of the field, the one that’s always had a carved heart on the trunk from someone else’s story. it’s a little cooler in the shade, and you pull your knees up to your chest as jay leans back on his elbows beside you.

it’s quiet for a bit. just the sound of birds and a distant dog barking and the soft thump of a basketball somewhere on the other side of the park.

“feels kind of strange,” he says after a while, his voice low like he’s not sure if he wants you to hear it or not.

you glance over. “what does?”

he shrugs, eyes still on the sky. “this. seeing you again. after all this time.”

you nod, because you get it. it’s quiet in a different way than it used to be. a little uncertain, but not uncomfortable. “yeah,” you say. “i’ve been thinking about this since i got back.”

he turns his head slightly toward you. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you repeat. “i missed you.”

his mouth pulls into a small smile, almost shy. “i missed you too.”

you both fall quiet again. the sounds of the park fill in the space, wind through the trees, kids yelling somewhere near the basketball court, a dog barking in the distance. “so,” you say after a minute, “you’re really going.”

he nods. “yeah.”

“it’s far.”

he glances at you, then looks away again, squinting at the sky. “i know.”

“how do you feel about it?”

he exhales slowly, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “i don’t know. excited, i guess. and nervous. i keep thinking i should feel more ready than i do.”

you take a breath, letting your shoulders relax a little. “i’m happy for you.”

he looks at you again, really looks. “yeah?”

you smile. “yeah. it’s a big deal. and you deserve it.”  he doesn’t say anything right away. just nods, like maybe he’s letting himself believe it now that you’ve said it. “you’re gonna be okay,” you tell him. “even if it’s scary at first.”

he stretches his legs out in front of him and leans back on his palms. “you think?”

“i know.”

he’s quiet for a moment. then, softly, “i don’t know when i’ll be back.”

you nod. “that’s okay.”

he turns to you again. “you’ll write?”

you smile, eyes on the grass between you. “of course. you?”

“of course,” he echoes.

the wind picks up slightly, brushing the hair from your face. someone nearby is playing music from a portable radio — i’ll be over you by toto — low and scratchy. you close your eyes for a second, letting the sound wrap around you, letting the moment stay just a little longer.

you don’t talk about the fall, or what this will mean later. you just sit side by side in the summer light, the space between you quiet and full.

the graduation happens two days later. you sit between your parents, legs sticking to the metal seats. someone behind you keeps whistling every time a name is called, loud and sharp, like they don’t know how much it echoes. jungwon walks across the stage flushed and proud, his posture too straight, the kind of serious he only gets when he’s trying to act older. he doesn’t look at the crowd, just accepts his diploma and moves on, but you still catch your dad elbowing your mom like he’s proud too.

jay comes up a few names later. he steps onto the stage like he’s not thinking about it, like he just wants to get it over with. his gown is wrinkled, his shoes are scuffed, and his tassel hangs crooked over one eye. he doesn’t smile or wave. he doesn’t try to make a moment out of it. but just before he crosses to the other side, he lifts his head and glances up toward the stands. it’s brief, so quick you might’ve missed it if you weren’t already watching him. you don’t know how you’re so sure, but you know that look was for you.

after the ceremony, everything feels loud and fast. people are shouting names and hugging in clusters, parents crying in the open without shame. there are flowers, flash photos, and folding chairs being dragged across the grass. you weave through the mess until you find jungwon, still in his gown, arms full of random cards and half-squished flowers. he grins when he sees you, pulling you into a hug so tight you almost drop your camera bag. 

“you better be proud of me,” he says, like it’s a joke, but there’s something real in his voice. you laugh, and your eyes sting more than you expected.

you find jay later, after most people have already moved on to someone’s backyard for a low-key celebration. he’s standing off to the side, just past the fence, holding a soda can in one hand and tapping it lightly against his knee. when he sees you, he doesn’t wave or call you over. he just waits. and when you walk up, he says, “hey.” 

you say it back. simple. there’s a pause where neither of you seems to know what to say next. you tell him, “congrats,” and he shrugs like it doesn’t matter, like the whole thing wasn’t a big deal. 

“wasn’t that hard,” he says, but he’s smiling anyway, and the way he looks at you makes you think maybe it did mean something after all.

you can feel the weight of what’s not being said. about time, and change, and how nothing ever stays the same for long. the sun’s starting to dip behind the trees now, casting everything in that golden light that makes it all feel more nostalgic than it should. you shift your weight from one foot to the other and look down at the bracelet still snug around your wrist, the little white beads faded from wear.

summer days stretching long and hot, the kind that make time feel slower but heavier too. you're back in that rhythm you almost forgot, the one where the afternoons melt into each other and the nights smell like barbecues and cut grass.

you spend your days with the same people you always did. jungwon drives you and a few others out to the lake more than once, his car stuffed with towels and snacks and a boombox that only works if someone’s holding the antenna at the right angle. you sit on the hood of the car with your feet up, sunglasses sliding down your nose, half-listening to everyone talk over each other. the new madonna single plays somewhere in the background — “hanky panky”, the one everyone's pretending not to like but can’t stop singing. someone brought a water gun, and at some point everyone ends up soaked, even jay, who laughs harder than you’ve seen him laugh in months.

some evenings, the group heads to the movie theater in town. you all pile into the back rows, whispering during the trailers, throwing popcorn at each other. “ghost” is the big one that summer, and you sit next to jay the night you all go see it, his arm brushing yours on the armrest. when the scene with the pottery wheel comes on, someone in front of you groans loudly and says, “no one’s that romantic,” and jay leans closer, whispering, “maybe they just haven’t met the right person.” it makes your heart stumble in a way you pretend not to notice.

other days are quieter. sometimes it’s just you and jay, wandering through the video store with no real plan. the new total recall cover stares at you from the wall, and you both end up picking movies you probably won’t even watch. old horror tapes and weird indie comedies he swears are “actually kind of genius.” you walk out with two rentals and a pack of licorice, arguing about which one has the worst tagline.

you stop at the diner after, like you always do, ordering milkshakes and sitting in the same booth by the window. the waitress knows your order now, calls you “kids” even though you’re both technically grown. jay draws shapes into the condensation on his glass and talks about packing, about how he’s trying not to overthink it, how everything feels real now. you listen. you nod. you want to tell him you’ll miss him, but you don’t.

some nights, he picks you up just after dinner, without a plan. you drive around with the windows down, hair blowing into your face, music too loud — “vision of love” by mariah carey plays on the radio at least twice a week. he taps the steering wheel, humming along. sometimes you drive past the high school. sometimes you don’t go anywhere at all, just park by the edge of the woods or the empty baseball field, talking about nothing and everything until the sky turns dark and the stars start to show up one by one.

there’s a meteor shower in late july. your whole group gathers at the old soccer field with blankets and snacks and bug spray that doesn’t work. you lie next to jay, shoulders touching, and he keeps pointing out stars like he knows what he’s talking about. someone swears they saw a ufo (probably jake). someone else throws a marshmallow at them (probably sunoo). you laugh so hard you nearly cry, and when jay leans close to say something, you forget what it was because you’re too aware of how close his face is to yours.

one afternoon, in early august, you’re sitting on the back porch of his house, drinking warm lemonade and flipping through an old rolling stone magazine. there’s a photo of sinead o’connor on the cover, and a piece about how her song “nothing compares 2 u” is topping the charts. jay’s sprawled out beside you, messing with a cassette that keeps getting eaten by his walkman. the air is thick with summer, and the cicadas haven’t stopped buzzing since noon.

“i don’t think i’ve ever had a summer like this,” he says, eyes on the sky.

“what do you mean?”

he shrugs. “it just feels different. like i’m trying to remember everything while it’s still happening.”

you look at him for a second, then out at the yard. “you will,” you say. “you’re gonna remember all of it.”

he turns his head toward you, half-smiling. “even the part where i burned my arm trying to light the grill?”

“especially that part.”

you both laugh, and then you fall into silence again. a good one. the kind you don’t need to fill.

it doesn’t feel like time is running out — not yet. but sometimes you catch him looking at you like he’s trying to memorize something. and sometimes you look back.

the days keep slipping past. people start talking about back-to-school sales. the leaves don’t change yet, but the nights feel cooler. here, the biggest news is that the fair’s coming to town next weekend. someone says they’re bringing a new ride this year. someone else bets it’ll break down halfway through. you’re not sure if you care, but you still make plans to go.

because it’s still summer. and you’re still here. and so is he.

the plan comes together fast. sunghoon brings it up during a late-night drive, saying something about his family’s place by the lake. just for the weekend. just to get away before everything changes. at first, it’s a maybe. and then it’s real.

by the time friday comes around, the cars are packed with duffel bags and cheap snacks, someone brings a boom box with a whole stack of mixtapes, and sunghoon is shouting about everyone bringing their own towels “unless you want to smell like boat mildew.”

you ride up in jungwon’s car, squeezed in the backseat with jay, your knees knocking every time he shifts. about halfway through the drive, he pulls out his walkman and slides one side of his headphones off, holding it out toward you without saying anything. you take it, slipping the foam-covered speaker over one ear, the cable stretched loosely between you. you both lean against your windows, the same song playing quietly into opposite sides — “come back to me” by janet jackson, soft and slow, the kind of track that feels like warm air and something just out of reach.

the house is bigger than you expected. the trees wrap around the place in all directions, tall and green and full, and the only sound is water hitting the shore and the crunch of gravel under tires. everyone spills out of the cars at once, bags hitting the ground, someone already yelling about who gets which room. inside, it’s cozy. 

you end up sharing a room with sunoo and chaewon. heeseung takes the couch, claiming it's "closest to the snacks," and riki somehow ends up sleeping in a sleeping bag under the kitchen table on purpose. jay and jungwon share the room across the hall. the walls are thin. you hear them laughing through them the first night.

the weekend unfolds in pieces. saturday morning starts with cereal out of paper bowls and someone burning toast. everyone’s in various states of disarray, hair a mess, hoodies thrown over pajamas, socks half-on. you and jay sit on the floor near the sliding doors, plates balanced on your knees, talking about nothing while the rest of the group bickers over who left the milk out.

in the afternoon, you all head down to the lake. the water’s cold at first, but not enough to stop anyone. you jump in together, shouting and laughing, the sun sharp above you. someone finds an old inflatable tube and takes turns getting pushed around on it. jay helps you climb onto it, steadying you with both hands, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. “you got it?” he asks, and you nod, even though your heart’s racing from more than just the water.

later, while everyone else plays volleyball or naps in the sun, you and jay wander off down the shoreline. it’s quieter there, rocks under your feet and the water brushing up against the edge in soft waves. you talk about stupid things — a song he can’t get out of his head, your favorite cereal as a kid, how sunghoon’s feet are suspiciously loud when he walks. every once in a while your hands bump. he doesn’t move away. neither do you.

in the evenings, the group crowds around the living room. movies play on a tiny tv with crackly sound. the only lights come from the strings of fairy lights someone hung across the windows and the dim glow of the kitchen behind you. you sit next to jay, sometimes close enough that your knees touch, sometimes leaning just far enough that your shoulders brush. it’s subtle, but steady. like a rhythm you’ve both learned without realizing.

sunday morning is slow. the kind of slow that makes you want to freeze time. breakfast is quiet, everyone a little softer, a little sleepier. you find jay on the back deck with a mug of something warm, his feet up on the railing, staring out at the lake like it’s telling him something.

you sit next to him without saying anything. he hands you the mug without looking, and you take a sip. it’s too sweet, but good. the kind of good that only comes from something someone else made for you.

“wish we had another day,” he says eventually.

you nod, pulling your knees to your chest. “me too.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says, “this summer went fast.”

you don’t say anything, just rest your head lightly against his shoulder. he shifts just enough to let it stay there. no one says it out loud, but you all feel it, that this is the last time you’ll all be like this. the last time before dorm rooms and new cities and long-distance calls and whatever comes next.

that night, someone builds a fire in the pit out back. everyone sits around it in a loose circle, smoke curling into the night sky, music playing low from the boom box. the stars are clear, the lake still, the air cool enough that you need a hoodie. 

you and jay share one. he shrugs it off halfway through the night and drapes it around your shoulders, hands brushing your arms as he does. you want to say thank you. you want to say more. but you just sit there, leaning into him, the firelight catching the edges of his face, the warmth of his body pressed steady against yours.

no one brings up that you’re all leaving soon. but you feel it in every laugh, every shared look, every time someone lingers just a little longer before walking away.

everyone’s scattered, jake’s trying to restart the fire pit, jungwon and riki are elbow-deep in a card game that’s been going on for an hour, sunghoon’s in the kitchen burning something that’s supposed to be popcorn. there’s laughter echoing through the house, a mixtape playing low from the boom box left near the sliding door. a soft track from phil collins fills the space — “do you remember” — not loud, not even really noticed, just there.

you find jay standing at the edge of the deck, looking out at the water. his hoodie sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, and his hands rest in his pockets like he’s trying to stay grounded.

“hey,” you say quietly, walking over.

he turns, a half-smile on his face. “hey.”

you stop beside him. “want to get out of here for a minute?”

he doesn’t ask where. just nods. “yeah.”

you don’t go far, just follow a little path that wraps around the trees, leading to a small clearing with a tilted wooden bench and an open patch of sky above. it’s quieter here. the music, the voices, the laughter. all of it fades behind you.

you both sit on the ground instead of the bench, the grass cool beneath you. the stars are already out, scattered and steady, blinking softly like they’ve been waiting for someone to look up. for a while, neither of you says anything.

then jay leans back on his palms and says, “you think anyone really knows how many stars are up there?”

you snort. “don’t tell me you’re gonna start counting.”

he grins. “nah. just thinking about how small everything feels when you look up.”

“yeah,” you say. “but kind of in a good way.”

he glances at you. “you’re good at that.”

“at what?”

“saying stuff that makes things feel okay.”

you shrug. “you make it easy.”

he doesn’t respond right away, just looks at you for a second longer than usual. then he lies back in the grass, arms behind his head, eyes on the sky. you follow, lying beside him, shoulders just close enough to touch. you’re quiet again. you can feel your heart beating a little faster now, not from nerves exactly, but from the weight of the moment. it’s not heavy. it’s just full.

“can i tell you something?” he asks after a long stretch of silence, his voice quieter now, like the night asked him to soften.

you nod without thinking, even though he’s not looking at you. “of course.”

he shifts beside you, fingers brushing the grass, then stills again. “i think… part of me was scared to come on this trip.”

you turn your head, surprised. “why?”

jay exhales through his nose, not a laugh but not quite a sigh. “because i knew it’d feel like this.”

you blink, unsure what he means, your chest already tightening. “like what?”

he pauses. “like the end of something. and the start of something else. and i don’t really know what to do with this either.”

you sit up slightly, propping yourself on one hand to look at him more clearly. he doesn’t flinch from your gaze. the moonlight hits the side of his face, soft and silver, catching in the curve of his jaw, the bridge of his nose. “what’s the this you’re talking about?” you ask, even though you think you already know.

he turns toward you too, mirroring your posture, his eyes searching yours in the dark. “you.”

your breath catches before you can stop it. it’s not the word itself — it’s how he says it. quiet. careful. like he’s been holding it in for a while and finally let it slip out.

you open your mouth to respond, but the words tangle. there’s nothing neat to say. just this feeling that’s been building, moment by moment, all summer.

you don’t realize how close you are until he reaches for your hand, gently, like a question. your fingers meet his halfway, sliding together slowly. his palm is warm against yours, steady. and you think: this is it. this is what you’ve been circling around for weeks, maybe longer.

neither of you says anything. even though your heart is beating so loud you’re sure he can hear it, everything else around you is still. the trees, the sky, the hush of the lake behind the trees.

you shift closer, knees brushing, his breath close enough that you can feel it on your skin. he doesn’t move, just watches you, and there’s something in his eyes that makes you feel like you’ve never been more seen. his voice is barely above a whisper. “i’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

you don’t ask what. you already know. so you nod, slow and certain. “me too.”

you lean in at the same time, hesitant at first, like the moment might slip if you move too quickly. your nose brushes his, then his forehead leans gently against yours, and you both pause there, breathing the same air, eyes falling shut.

when you kiss, it’s not rushed. it doesn’t try to prove anything.

his lips meet yours like he’s taking his time, like he wants to make sure you feel it. not just the kiss, but everything behind it — every late night drive, every quiet look, every almost-touch. it’s warm, patient. his hand moves to your cheek, thumb brushing just under your eye. you kiss him back, slowly, like you’re learning how to do it together. your fingers curl slightly in his shirt. the kiss deepens just a little, enough to make your stomach flip, but still soft, still careful.

when you part, your faces stay close, noses touching, his forehead pressing gently into yours. your eyes open slowly, and so do his.

he smiles, not wide, not nervous. just real. “okay,” he says, like it’s the only word he can manage.

you let out a soft laugh, your breath still shaky. “okay.”

he leans in again, like he can't help it — or maybe like he doesn't want to. his mouth finds yours a second time, a little slower now, but more certain. like the first kiss answered a question, and this one is what comes after.

your hand moves to his neck, fingers brushing the edge of his hairline. he exhales softly into the kiss, like he's been holding his breath for too long. you tilt your head, just enough, and everything around you slips away. it’s just him. just this. you kiss him again and again, soft but needing it more now. and in the space between those kisses, your thoughts start to scatter.

you think about how you’re going back to college in two weeks. how this summer doesn’t get to last forever. how he’s your brother’s best friend, who would probably lose his mind if he knew about this, who’s trusted jay with more than anyone else.

you think about the way jay looked in that hoodie on the porch earlier, the way he reaches for your hand like it’s instinct, the way he always glances at you like he’s making sure you’re still with him. you think about the distance coming, the time zones, the unfamiliar dorms and roommates and classes, and how everything is about to split open into something new. and how scary that is.

but none of it feels bigger than this. 

none of it feels more important than the way he’s kissing you right now, like he means it. like he’s been meaning it for a while. like this moment belongs to you, not the future. 

you press a little closer, your hand gripping the front of his shirt, like holding onto him might freeze time. like maybe, if you stay right here, none of the hard parts will catch up yet. you kiss him like it’s the only thing that matters, because right now, it is.

and somewhere in the quiet, you can feel it from him too. not in words. not in anything he says. but in the way his fingers stay gently on your jaw, the way his breath stumbles a little every time your lips meet. in how his hand settles at the small of your back, pulling you in like he’s afraid of letting go too soon.

this isn’t just a summer crush. not for you. not for him.

and for once, you don’t try to name it. you don’t try to figure out what comes next. you just kiss him again. and he kisses you back.

the morning after feels quieter.

you wake up to the sound of zippers and muffled voices, the rustle of plastic bags and someone shuffling through the fridge. the sun is already pouring in through the windows, soft and golden, catching dust in the air like snow. the couch cushions are out of place, blankets half-folded, someone’s shoes by the door, another person brushing their teeth in a hurry. 

you sit up slowly, blinking the sleep from your eyes, your hoodie still smelling like smoke and lake water. there’s that brief moment, the one before your brain fully wakes up, where you forget what day it is, what comes next. but then it settles in, slowly and all at once: the trip is over. it’s time to go.

jay is already awake, crouched by his backpack in the hallway, rolling up a pair of socks like it matters. his hair is a mess. he’s wearing a t-shirt you’ve seen a hundred times and socks that don’t match. he glances up when he sees you, gives you a tired half-smile. not wide. just soft.

you both don’t say much. maybe there’s nothing to say yet. maybe saying anything would make it feel too real.

the car ride home is crowded. jungwon’s driving, sunoo’s in the passenger seat. the backseat is a puzzle of bags and limbs and too much heat, and you and jay are tucked into the middle of it, pressed together by necessity. you settle in, the windows cracked just enough to let in the air. you let your head rest against jay’s shoulder slowly, trying to make it seem casual, like it’s just more comfortable that way. he doesn’t move, just shifts a little so you can fit there better. his arm brushes yours, and he taps his thumb against his knee in a steady rhythm. you close your eyes, but you don’t sleep.

you’re holding back tears and you don’t even know why exactly — maybe it’s the quiet, or the closeness, or the feeling that something is slipping away. you press your face a little more into the fabric of his sleeve, pretending the sun through the window is what’s making your eyes sting. 

you think about how in two weeks you’ll be gone again. how everything’s about to stretch out — cities, time zones, semesters. you think about how this summer felt like something rare. like it shouldn’t have happened, and yet it did. and now it’s ending, and you don’t know what comes next. you don’t know when comes next.

you feel his hand rest lightly on your knee under the bags. you don’t open your eyes. you just let yourself pretend, for a few more miles, that none of it’s changing yet.

when the car pulls up in front of jay’s house, it’s abrupt, too sudden, like the day skipped ahead without permission. jungwon puts it in park and leans his head back dramatically. “finally,” he mutters. sunoo groans, stretching his arms above his head. jay moves first, shifting beside you, gathering his stuff slowly. he doesn’t say anything right away. you sit up, already feeling the cold where his body isn’t next to yours anymore.

he opens the door and climbs out, throwing his bag over his shoulder. then he turns back toward you, standing there for a second longer than necessary, like maybe he thought this would be easier. you climb out after him.

jungwon is fiddling with the radio, sunoo is yelling something about needing to pee, and the world keeps moving behind you, but jay is still. he looks at you like he’s trying to find the right thing to say and coming up empty.

he shifts his bag on his shoulder, then takes a small step closer. “so...” he starts, then trails off.

you nod. “yeah.”

he hesitates. then reaches out and pulls you in.

the hug is tight. longer than expected. his arms wrap around your back, his chin rests lightly on your shoulder. you let your eyes close. your hands grip the back of his shirt, holding on like maybe that will stop the clock.

you feel him breathe in. then out. slow and steady. like he doesn’t want to let go either. when he pulls back, he still doesn’t let go of your hand.

“let’s see each other before… we leave,” he says. his voice is quiet.

you nod, squeezing his fingers. “yeah.”

he lets go first. you step back toward the car. jay doesn’t turn until you’re almost inside. you catch one last glance of him through the open window as jungwon pulls away, hands in his pockets, hair in his eyes, standing in front of his house like he doesn’t know what to do with himself now after all that happened.

you lean your head against the window and close your eyes. you feel the bracelet on your wrist.

and you decided to visit jay that week. the sun was already dipping low when you got off your bike. the sky had turned that soft orange-pink, the kind that makes everything feel like it’s slowing down. the basement door was around the side of the house, half-hidden behind some overgrown bushes. you pushed through them, found the handle, and pulled it open. the air was cooler as you stepped down the narrow wooden stairs, careful with each step. you’d never been down here before. not once.

his room looked exactly like him. the walls were dark wood, lined with posters — the cure, bon jovi, AC/DC, the smiths — and a few polaroids tacked up with tape. his bed was unmade, blankets rumpled and half-falling off the side. one guitar case was open on the floor, the others hung neatly on the wall, each one looking like it had a story. there were cassette tapes in uneven stacks on the desk, a walkman with tangled headphones beside them, and clothes half-folded in the open suitcase on the bed.

jay was kneeling beside it, fitting a hoodie into a tight corner of the bag. he glanced over his shoulder when he heard you, his smile soft. “hey,” he said.

“hey,” you answered, stepping further in, letting the door click shut behind you.

you stood for a second, just taking it in. this space you’d never seen, that felt like it had always been waiting. you leaned your shoulder against the wall, arms crossed, watching him. “so this is where you disappear to,” you said.

he chuckled, still folding something. “yep. it’s basically a cave.”

“it’s nice,” you said quietly. “feels like you.”

he looked up at that, met your eyes for a second, then nodded once, like that meant something to him.

you didn’t really help with the packing. mostly just watched him move around, picking things up, setting them down, deciding what made the cut and what didn’t. there was something peaceful about it. the quiet rhythm of his hands, the soft music playing low from the tape deck, the occasional creak of the floor above.

“you nervous?” you asked, after a while.

he paused, then sat back. “a little,” he admitted. “i mean… yeah. i’ve never really been away from here. not like this.”

you nodded slowly. “i remember that feeling. the first time i left.”

“did it get easier?” he asked, eyes still on the bag.

“not right away,” you said. “but yeah. eventually.”

he looked up at you again, studying you like he was trying to memorize something. “you’re gonna be far,” he said. “but i’m gonna be farther.”

you tried to smile, but it felt like it caught somewhere in your chest. “i know.”

he stood, dusted his hands on his jeans, and walked over to the wall. reached up, gently took down the acoustic guitar. he turned it over in his hands like it was something fragile, something important. then he sat down on the floor and looked at you.

“can i play something for you?”

you nodded, not trusting your voice for a second.

his fingers found the strings like they always knew the way. he adjusted the strap, then looked down, brows pulled slightly together in focus. and then he started playing, slow, familiar. the first few notes hit you like a wave. “just like heaven”. you don’t say anything. you don’t have to. it was always your song — even if neither of you ever said it out loud. the one you danced to at prom. the one you kept slipping into his mixtapes, over and over again, like a quiet kind of truth.

you felt your throat tighten, your eyes sting. but you didn’t look away. he played through the intro like he’d done it a thousand times, and maybe he had, but now it sounded different. quieter. like it was just for you. the room felt smaller somehow, or maybe just closer. his voice was low, a little unsure at first, but steady.

"show me, show me, show me how you do that trick..."

his eyes flicked to yours for a second, then back down to the strings. he didn’t overdo it. didn’t try to be impressive. just played it like it meant something. like the song could hold everything neither of you had said out loud yet. you sat down slowly on the floor, right by his side, looking at him while he played.

when the last note faded, he didn’t say anything right away. neither did you. then he looked at you again, and this time he smiled, small, but full of something bigger. “that song always reminds me of you,” he said. 

your voice was quiet. “i think i’ll hear it and think of this.”

he nodded once. “good.”

you leaned in, fingers brushing lightly against his knee. he put the guitar aside and leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours for a second. the moment was soft. still. like the whole world had paused long enough to let you both catch your breath.

“i don’t want to go yet,” he whispered.

“i know,” you said. “i don’t want you to go either.”

but he was going. and you were too. and the time in between would stretch and pull and test everything you weren’t ready to name yet.

he kissed you then, slow, familiar, like it was a promise. not a goodbye.

and you kissed him back like maybe it could be both.

still, he was leaving. and you were too.

and on the day jungwon and jay left for college, the house felt too quiet. even before the sun had climbed all the way up, the morning was thick with that strange stillness that only came with goodbyes. doors opened and shut softly. drawers clicked closed. voices stayed low, like everyone was trying not to disturb something.

you helped jungwon with his last-minute packing, folding the same hoodie twice because you didn’t know what else to do with your hands. he kept making dumb jokes like he wasn’t about to leave for months, like it wasn’t the first time either of you would be on your own in a real way. your parents hovered nearby, taking turns checking his bags, giving the kind of advice that sounds rehearsed, like they’d been practicing it in their heads for days.

jay showed up a little before nine. he knocked once and let himself in, like always. he looked tired, like he hadn’t slept much, like maybe this was harder for him than he wanted to admit. jungwon lit up when he saw him, and for a second, it was just like any other morning. jay helped carry bags to the car, made fun of how jungwon packed, teased him about almost forgetting his bag of underwear. they bickered all the way down the front steps.

your mom cried when jungwon hugged her. your dad clapped him on the back, too hard, and told him to call every sunday. when it was your turn, he didn’t say anything. just pulled you into a hug and held on for a long time. you didn’t say anything either. there wasn’t much to say. you were proud. you were scared. he was still your little brother, even if he was taller than you now.

jay was the last one to say goodbye. jungwon looked at him like he wasn’t sure what to do, like they hadn’t talked about this part. jay didn’t make a joke this time. he just stepped forward and hugged him. tight. both arms. like it meant something. and maybe it did.

when the car pulled out of the driveway, you watched until it turned the corner and disappeared. your mom went back inside. your dad followed. jay stayed. he stood a few steps from the porch, his car parked at the curb.

you didn’t say anything. just walked over and stood beside him, close enough that your arms brushed. neither of you looked at the other.

“so,” he said eventually, voice low. “that’s it, huh?”

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “yeah.” a pause. the cicadas were screaming in the trees. somewhere down the block, a sprinkler turned on. “you leaving today?” you asked.

he nodded. “wanted to catch jungwon before I did.” he paused. “and you.”

the words were simple, but something about them made your chest ache. “i go tomorrow,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

jay looked over at you then. his eyes were soft in the morning light, tired around the edges like he hadn’t slept much. maybe you hadn’t either. he smiled a little, almost sad. “come here.”

you followed him to the sidewalk, where his car sat humming faintly, engine already warm. he opened the passenger door and leaned in for a second before straightening up again, something small in his hand. a package, square and neat, wrapped in old newspaper and tied with a thin piece of string.

“what’s this?” you asked.

“something for you,” he said. “for when it feels too quiet. or too loud. or just… anything.” he offered it to you gently. “there’s a letter inside. don’t open it until i’m gone.”

you looked down at the package, then up at him. “you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to.” 

you didn’t know what to say. the knot in your chest twisted tighter. jay shifted, one hand in his pocket. “i was gonna write this part down too,” he said. “but figured maybe i should just say it.”

your heart picked up. he was looking at you again. steady this time.

“i like you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “i’ve liked you for a while. and i didn’t want to leave without telling you.” your breath caught. “i know it doesn’t change anything,” he added. “i’m going far. it’s not like we can just call each other all the time, or drive over. i don’t even know when i’ll be back. but i needed you to know, anyway.”

you stepped forward before you could think. “jay…”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly, almost nervous now. “i’m not asking for anything. i just—this summer meant something to me. and i hope it did to you too.”

it did. more than you could say. you reached up, one hand brushing against his jaw. “can i kiss you goodbye?”

he smiled, soft and small, and nodded once.

the kiss wasn’t rushed. it didn’t feel like a goodbye, even though it was. it felt like everything that had built up over that summer — the lake trip, the music, the stars, the slow shift from maybe to yes. he held your face gently, fingers curling behind your neck. you kissed him like you wanted to memorize it.

when you pulled away, you didn’t step back.

his forehead pressed against yours. his breath was warm against your cheek.

“guess i see you around, y/n,” he said, voice rough at the edges, like he’d swallowed something too big and hadn’t quite gotten it down.

you didn’t answer right away. you were still looking at him, like maybe if you stared hard enough, if you memorized every freckle, every line, every soft and quiet thing about him, it wouldn’t hurt as much. but it did. it hurt in that hollow way, like something was being peeled from your chest and packed away in the trunk of his car.

your throat felt tight when you finally spoke. “yeah,” you whispered. “see you.”

but it wasn’t casual, not the way you’d said those words a thousand times before, not tossed over your shoulder after a movie night, not shouted across the lawn when he left after dinner. it was the kind of see you that didn’t have a when. or a where. it was hope and ache tangled into two syllables.

he looked at you for a long moment, like he didn’t want to move either. the sun was hitting the edge of his face, casting shadows beneath his eyes, and your heart ached at how familiar he looked, and how fast he was becoming a memory.

you didn’t mean to cry. the first tear slipped out before you could stop it, trailing down your cheek, catching in the corner of your mouth. then another. you didn’t make a sound. just stood there, holding that little newspaper-wrapped box like it might keep you steady.

jay stepped forward. gently. carefully. he brushed the tear away with his thumb, his hand cupping your jaw so lightly it almost didn’t feel real. “hey,” he said, barely audible. “don’t cry.”

you tried to laugh, but it came out broken. “i’m trying.”

he shook his head, and you could see the effort it took him to keep his own eyes dry. “i wish i didn’t have to go today.”

you nodded. “i wish you didn’t either.”

he sighed, and it felt like something was collapsing inside both of you. “i’m gonna try to write. as much as i can. i know it’s slow and dumb and it’ll probably take a week just to get to you, but—”

“i’d like that,” you said quickly. 

he smiled at that. “and… if i can figure it out, maybe i could visit. maybe after midterms or something. if i save up.”

“you don’t have to promise,” you said, though your heart leapt anyway.

“i want to,” he said. “i don’t know what this is, but it matters to me. you matter to me.”

your eyes welled again, and this time he didn’t stop the tears. just let them come. held your hand like it was something precious. something he didn’t want to let go of.

“i should go,” he said eventually, so quiet it barely touched the air.

you nodded, but didn’t let go. not yet.

he leaned in, kissed your forehead, then your lips, soft, lingering. the kind of kiss that stayed with you long after it was over. when he pulled back, he touched your cheek one last time, then forced himself to step away.

you watched him open the door. slide into the driver’s seat. the car engine rumbled to life, low and steady.

he looked at you once more before pulling away. just a glance. but it held everything.

you stood there until the car disappeared down the block, the silence rushing in to fill the space he left behind. the cicadas were still buzzing. the heat was rising off the pavement. life kept going. you looked down at the package in your hands, the string digging a little deeper into your palm now. you didn’t open it. not yet.

you just stood there. and missed him already.

that night, you barely slept. the house was too quiet. your room looked too neat. jay’s gift stayed on your desk, untouched, waiting. you’d packed around it. like it was fragile. like it needed its own space. the next morning, the train station smelled like old coffee and newspaper ink.

now, the package sat on your lap as the train pulled away from the platform, and your parents grew smaller and smaller through the window until they disappeared entirely.

you didn’t cry. not then. you waited until the train curved around the hill, the town falling behind you, and then, when there was no one left to wave to, no one watching, you untied the string.

the newspaper fell away with a soft rustle. inside, a cassette tape, carefully labeled in his handwriting: for when you miss home. and beneath it, a folded piece of paper. creased, a little smudged, like he’d been holding onto it too long before giving it to you.

you opened the letter slowly.

“y/n,

i’ve never been great with words unless i’m joking around, and even then i’m kind of an idiot. but i didn’t want to leave without trying.

this summer meant something to me. you meant something to me.

i think it still doesn’t feel real. that i’m sitting on my bedroom floor right now writing this with the window open and knowing it’s the last time i’ll do this with you just down the block.

i’m not expecting anything. not really. i just didn’t want you to think any of this was a fluke. or just summer heat or timing or nostalgia or whatever. it wasn’t. i’ve liked you for a long time. i just didn’t know how to say it until now.

if this letter gets to you before the homesickness does, good. if not, then maybe it’ll at least feel like someone’s there with you for a minute.

i made the tape in my room last week. i kept thinking about that drive to the lake, how we listened to music and didn’t talk for miles. some songs that sound like how i feel when i’m with you.

i’ll write if you want me to. and maybe i’ll find a way to visit. but if not, if all this ever is is a good memory, thank you for being it.

i’ll miss you more than i can say.

— jay”

you fold the letter back up slowly, pressing the paper flat with your fingers like it might hold its shape better that way. your chest aches in that quiet, heavy way that doesn’t rise all at once, just settles there. low. constant. you hold the cassette in your hand, thumb brushing over the label. 

you rewind it. click. the tape whirs gently, and you close your eyes for a second while it rewinds, your forehead resting against the cool glass of the train window.

when the tape starts again, it opens with “pictures of you” by the cure, every word bleeding into the next like he meant for it to feel like memory. you press your headphones closer, the foam scratchy against your ears, the sound just loud enough to drown out the rest of the train.

the sky outside your window shifts while the songs pass. pink bleeding into orange, then purple, then black. you don’t notice when the train stops at smaller stations. you don’t move when other passengers get up, switch seats, pull out books. you just stay there, with the music, the letter in your bag, and the weight in your chest.

the semester starts quietly. new faces, cold hallways, shared bathrooms that never seem clean. your roommate plays ace of base too loud and always leaves her towel on your chair. you stay busy, mostly. classes, the library, the quiet corners of campus where no one talks. 

the first letter comes ten days in. his handwriting is still a little messy, like he wrote it fast, like he couldn't wait. he tells you about getting lost on his first day, about his roommate who only eats instant noodles, about how he thought of you when he saw a lake behind one of the buildings. the last line says:

i miss you like it’s a sport. i’m training for the olympics.

you laugh out loud. you write him back that night. you tell him about your weird professor, about the vending machine that only gives dr pepper, about how the cafeteria chicken always tastes like cardboard. you say:

i miss you too. i think about that night in the lake more than i probably should.

and it begins. letters back and forth, every week, sometimes more. his envelopes start showing up with little doodles in the corners. he draws your name in bubble letters, sticks tiny pressed flowers inside, once even includes a guitar pick “just in case you forget my favorite color is green.”

you tape some of the letters to your wall. you sleep with one under your pillow. when the days feel long, you reread them like prayers.

he writes about the cold, about the way the wind whistles through the cracks in his dorm window. you write about late nights in the common room, your hands always cold, your heart always a little heavy. sometimes the letters are funny, sometimes soft. sometimes they sound like promises neither of you can quite say out loud.

as november creeps in, the air gets sharper. the letters get longer.

sometimes i look for you in the crowd, even though i know you’re not here. i don’t know what that means. i just miss you, a lot.

then, one wednesday afternoon, the dorm phone rings. you almost don’t answer. but something in your chest pulls you toward it.

“hello?”

static hums, and then his voice, distant and slightly warped by the old payphone line:

“hey. it’s me.”

you freeze. the dorm fades away. someone laughs down the hall, but it’s muffled now. “jay?”

he exhales like he’s been holding his breath. “yeah. god, your voice. i missed it. you sound exactly like i remembered, but—warmer somehow.”

you sit down on the floor with your back against the wall, knees pulled up. “you’re calling from the payphone?”

“outside the student union. my fingers are turning blue, probably. but it was worth it.”

you smile into the receiver, thumb resting against the cord like it’s his hand. “you’re crazy.”

“for you, yeah. a little.” there’s a pause, comfortable and quiet. just the sound of the wind through the line, a car passing in the background, your heartbeat in your ears. “i wish i was there,” he says.

“i wish you were too.”

“i’ve been thinking about christmas,” he adds, voice a little smaller now. “about home. and... i don’t think i can make it.”

your stomach drops. “what do you mean?”

“money’s tight. really tight. i thought i could pick up extra shifts at the dining hall, but they already filled the schedule. i asked my mom if she could help, but she’s barely getting by. i’ve been doing the math over and over—bus, train, anything. i can’t swing it. not this year.”

you lean your head back against the wall, eyes stinging. “i was counting down the days to see you.”

he sighs, like he’s trying to keep something in. “i hate that this is what growing up means. working two shifts and still not getting to be where your heart wants to be.” you’re quiet for a moment, and then he adds, “i wish i could call you every day, i wish i had a cordless phone and no long distance fees and a million quarters in my pocket.”

you laugh, even though it breaks a little at the end. “i wish you were here right now.”

“you think if we both wish it hard enough, we’ll end up on the same train platform by accident?”

“sounds like a movie.”

“sounds like us,” he says. “if we were a little luckier.” the wind through the line is sharper now. he shivers audibly. “i should go before i lose feeling in my toes.”

“can you call again?”

“i’ll save up quarters. skip lunch if i have to.”

“don’t skip lunch.”

“okay, i’ll just skip half of lunch,” he says. “i miss you.”

“i miss you more.”

“that’s not possible.”

“prove it.”

he laughs again, soft and tired and full of something like love. “someday soon. not this christmas, maybe. but someday. i promise.”

you press the phone tighter to your ear like that might make it last longer. “okay. i’ll wait.”

“don’t wait too still. keep living. i want stories when we talk again.”

“you’ll get stories. all of them. i’ll write you tonight.”

“i’ll be waiting.”

the line crackles. you imagine him standing there, snow on his shoulders, one hand buried in his coat, the other holding the receiver like a lifeline.

“bye, jay.”

“bye, love.”

the line goes dead.

you sit there for a while, the dial tone humming in your ear, and then finally, finally, you hang up.

and then christmas comes like it always does. you take the long train ride back home with your walkman pressed to your ears and your bag heavy. the town looks smaller than you remember. maybe it always does since your first semester away. the streets feel frozen in time, lit by weak streetlights and lined with familiar shops. it’s strange—everything is the same, and nothing is.

but this year, you’re not the main event. jungwon comes back two days after you. it’s his first time home since he started college. your mom can barely keep it together when he walks in the door with his overstuffed duffel bag and a sleepy smile. she hugs him so tightly he winces. your dad ruffles his hair, your aunt comes by with a casserole. it’s like the prodigal son has returned, and honestly, you don’t mind. it’s good to see him. it’s good to see them see him.

he looks older. not just taller, though he is. not just the haircut, or the faint stubble he clearly hasn’t decided what to do with yet. it’s in the way he carries himself. looser. more sure. the kind of ease that comes from living somewhere new and surviving it.

you end up on the roof a few nights later, like old times. he finds the ladder first. calls to you from outside your window like you’re kids again. the stars are faint but steady. the air sharp in your lungs. you bring blankets and two mugs of whatever was warm in the kitchen.

you sit side by side, legs stretched out, silence easy between you.

“so?” you ask eventually, nudging him. “how’s it really been?”

he doesn’t answer right away. then: “it’s good. really good, actually.”

you glance over. “yeah?”

“yeah. the campus is beautiful. i got lucky with my dorm, too—my roommate’s cool. not, like, best-friend cool, but we get along. classes are hard, but... in a fun way? it’s weird, i kind of like the pressure.”

“nerd.”

he nudges you back. “i joined this music club,” he says. “nothing serious, just people who like playing stuff together. i’ve been writing again. and there’s this group that goes out on thursdays to open mic nights... i don’t always go, but when i do, it feels... i don’t know. freeing.”

you smile. “i’m glad, wonnie.”

“me too,” he says, and his voice is soft. “i missed this, though. missed home.”

“you seemed so... settled.”

“i think i am,” he says. “but it doesn’t mean i don’t think about this place. about you guys.”

the quiet stretches between you again. you sip your drink. the wind moves through the trees. then, after a pause, he speaks again—gentle, careful. “can i ask you something?”

you look over. he’s not looking at you. “yeah?”

“you and jay.”

you freeze a little. “what about us?”

“i don’t know. it’s just... you never really said anything. and neither did he. but i’m not dumb.” his voice is soft, not accusing. just curious. 

you stare at your hands, fingers curled in the edge of the blanket. “it wasn’t supposed to be a thing,” you say eventually. “it just kind of... happened. after that summer. we kept writing. and then we kept feeling things. and now it’s this... half-real, half-imagined thing that lives between semesters.”

“but it’s real to you?”

“yeah,” you whisper. “it is.”

he doesn’t say anything right away. then: “he never told me.”

“i think he didn’t know how.”

“or maybe he didn’t want to make it more complicated.”

“maybe.” you look over at him. he’s watching the sky. “are you mad?”

he shakes his head. “no. just surprised. and... maybe a little jealous?”

you blink. “of jay?”

“i'm your brother after all.” he chuckled, you followed along after a while.

“he couldn’t come home this christmas.”

“i figured. he didn’t answer when i asked.”

you glance at jungwon. “you guys often write each other?”

“yeah,” he says. “not super often. but he sends me these long letters when he can.”

you smile at the image. “does he ever talk about me?”

he hesitates for a moment, then nods. “not directly. not like, in big declarations or whatever. but you’re always there. in between the lines. like... he’ll say something about music he’s been listening to, and it’s a song you used to love. or mention some movie and how ‘y/n would’ve hated it.’ that kind of thing.”

you feel something tighten behind your ribs. “so he never said anything?”

“no,” jungwon says, quiet. “but i could tell. i mean, i’m not dumb. i knew something was going on. i just didn’t know what, exactly.” he leans back on his hands, looks up at the stars. “but then i started thinking,” jungwon goes on. “if he was gonna care about someone like that, i’m glad it’s you.”

your eyes sting a little. you smile at that. “do you miss him?”

“of course,” he says, then looks at you. “but i think you do more.” you don’t say anything. he doesn't press. after a while, the wind picks up. your fingers are cold, your mugs are empty. jungwon glances sideways at you. “we should go in before mom wakes up and accuses us of catching pneumonia.”

you snort. “she’s probably already awake.”

“probably.”

he gets up first, offers you a hand. you take it. when you both climb back in through the window, the house is still quiet. warm. familiar. but something in your chest feels a little different. like the ache is still there, but softer. held.

the holidays pass in the quiet rhythm of home. 

you help wrap gifts at the kitchen table with leftover paper from last year—half of them with the name “jungwon” in curly, looping letters. he's the center of the season this time. it’s his first time back since starting college, and your parents cling to him like they’re making up for lost time. your mom tears up over his favorite soup. your dad takes pictures with the chunky kodak camera he barely remembers how to use.

you don’t mind. not really. it's good to see him like this—full of stories, confident in ways he wasn’t before. he talks about dorm parties, about sleeping through 8 a.m. lectures, about running into a professor at a bar once and pretending not to notice. he even joined a rec basketball team. you listen, smiling, even when your chest aches a little with the difference.

new year’s eve arrives with less celebration than usual. your parents are asleep by eleven. jungwon watches back to the future part iii on VHS in the living room. you sit with him on the floor, both of you wrapped in old quilts, sipping ginger ale from mismatched mugs. when midnight hits, you both yell “happy new year” more out of obligation than excitement. there are no fireworks, just distant shouts from a few blocks away. 

you think of jay. wonder if he’s somewhere with people, or alone. wonder if he thought of calling. wonder if he stopped himself.

you go back to campus in early january.

the train is colder this time. more grey. you keep your headphones in and stare at the frost on the window. roxy music, the cure… the soundtrack of trying not to feel too much.

when you get back to your dorm, your roommate’s side is already full of unpacked clothes and christmas candy. your side is neater, more sparse. you pin up a few new photos. unpack slowly. tuck your homesickness into corners and drawers.

classes start again. second year feels heavier than the first. the professors are stricter, less patient. you drink more coffee. underline more passages. your handwriting gets messier.

jay’s letters still come, but they’re different now. shorter. the envelopes are still addressed with care, your name underlined twice like always. in one letter, he writes about a band he’s joined—some guys in his dorm who needed a rhythm guitarist. he says they play mostly pixies and stone roses covers, sometimes in the campus bar, sometimes in someone’s garage. he says it’s loud and messy and it makes him feel like he can breathe again.

he doesn’t mention missing christmas. he doesn’t say anything about not calling. he signs off with a song lyric, like he always does. this time: “heaven knows i’m miserable now.” you smile anyway.

as the months pass, the letters come slower. once a week becomes twice a month. then sometimes just one, slipped into your mailbox late and slightly rain-stained. but they’re still his. still full of little details—what he’s reading, the weird dreams he had, the girl in his english class who always talks about astrology.

february comes. then march. and suddenly the snow is melting again. your hair is longer. you’ve started carrying a walkman everywhere. your favorite café replaced the jukebox with a cheap stereo that mostly plays madonna and paul simon. the world is moving forward, spinning fast, pulling you along with it.

but some days, when the sun hits just right, and you hear a guitar riff through a half-open dorm window, you think of him. of that fall. of letters. of train rides. of the silence that still holds you both, gently. and you wait. because you know—somewhere—he’s waiting, too.

it’s a saturday afternoon in april, and spring has finally, finally started to show its face.

you’re sitting beneath the cherry tree near the east edge of campus, the one that blooms a little earlier than the others, the one that looks like it’s holding secrets in every petal. sunlight slips through the branches in soft waves, dancing across the open pages of your book. there’s a coffee cup balanced carefully in the grass beside you, the sleeve still warm.

you’ve been there for over an hour. the world feels far away. it’s the kind of quiet that’s not empty, but full of wind in the leaves, of the occasional rustle of a student passing behind you, of the soft, steady hum of a saturday moving forward without urgency.

you turn a page, and then someone sits down beside you. you don’t look up right away. the book’s getting good again. but then you notice the shift in weight. the familiar way your skin prickles. the scent of something: clean laundry, faint cologne, and something you haven’t smelled in months but recognize instantly.

you turn. and it’s him. jay.

he’s right there, in front of you. close enough to touch. you don’t think. you don’t even say anything. you just launch yourself at him.

your book flies into the grass. your coffee nearly spills. your arms wrap around him tight, your face buried in his neck before your brain can even catch up. he laughs, breathless, a little startled but not pulling away. his arms close around you, firm and warm and shaking just a little.

“holy shit,” you whisper, your voice muffled in his hoodie. “holy shit, you’re here.”

“yeah,” he says, holding you tighter. “i’m here.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, still holding his shoulders like you’re making sure he’s real. his hair’s longer, shaggier than you remember. his face is a little thinner. his eyes are tired but bright. “how—what—” you start, then blink hard. “how did you know i’d be here?”

he smiles, soft, almost shy. “one of your letters,” he says. “you mentioned this tree. said you always came here saturday afternoons to read. so... i did the math.”

your heart does something strange in your chest. like falling and flying at the same time. “you remembered that?”

“of course i remembered that.”

you turn toward him fully, knees folding underneath you. “what—” your voice cracks, so you try again. “what are you doing here?”

he tilts his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “i wanted to surprise you.”

your mouth opens and closes once. “you did.”

he laughs gently, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. i figured.”

you take him in more slowly now, in full color. the soft mess of his hair, pushed back like he’s run his fingers through it a dozen times today. the curve of his mouth, familiar and brand new all at once. the hoodie you’ve seen in polaroids, now in front of you. the pin on his strap — the smiths, still. his shoelaces are untied.

“so you just... showed up?” you ask.

“not just.” he glances down at the grass. “i’ve had this planned for a few weeks. it’s spring break at my school.”

you blink. “you’re spending your break here?”

“yeah.”

“with me?”

he lifts a shoulder, casual in the way he never really is when it comes to you. “yeah. if you want me to be.”

your heart stumbles. “why didn’t you go home?”

“my parents came to visit me last month. brought homemade food, checked if i was sleeping enough. we did the whole thing.” he pauses. “so this time... i wanted to come see you. you were the priority.”

your throat goes tight. painfully tight. you stare at him. “that’s—”

“cheesy?”

“kind of.”

he grins. “but true.”

you blink fast, trying to keep your voice from wobbling. “i can’t believe you’re here.”

he nudges you with his shoulder, gently, and for a moment, everything around you seems to fade. the campus sounds, the other students walking by, the breeze rustling through the cherry blossoms, they all blur into the background. it’s just the two of you, sitting here in a moment that feels impossibly perfect.

“well. i am,” he says again, this time his voice lower, quieter. he’s watching you now, really watching you, like he’s trying to memorize the way you look in this light, the way you sound when you speak so softly, the way your eyes flicker with something unspoken. your heart thuds in your chest, and you swallow. the world feels like it’s holding its breath too, waiting for something. waiting for us, you think, and before you can stop it, the words spill out in a whisper:

“i’ve missed you so much.”

he looks at you for a moment, something in his eyes shifting. then, without warning, he’s leaning in, closing the space between you. his hand, warm and gentle, finds its way to your cheek, and your breath hitches at the contact. his touch is familiar and new, like coming home but also like discovering something thrilling and unknown all at once.

you don’t even realize you’ve closed your eyes until you feel him so close, his breath mingling with yours, his lips almost brushing your skin. you can feel the thrum of your pulse in your throat, the way the air feels thick between you, charged with everything unspoken, everything you’ve been holding on to for so long. 

his lips, when they finally meet yours, are soft and hesitant at first, like he’s testing the waters, unsure if you’ll pull away or if you’ll let him stay. and when you don’t—when you lean into him, your hands trembling as they rest against his chest, your lips responding with a quiet urgency—it’s like something clicks into place, something that had been waiting all along, just beneath the surface. his kiss deepens, letting you both catch up to the months that have slipped by, all the letters and all the silences. his fingers tangle gently in your hair, tugging you closer, and you lose yourself in the feeling of him—his warmth, his presence, his everything. it’s like coming home, but it’s also like a brand new beginning.

when you finally pull back, breathless and flushed, you don’t open your eyes right away. you stay there, just for a moment, feeling the soft brush of his nose against yours, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest. there’s a peacefulness to it now, something that wasn’t there before, something that feels right in the way the world has fallen away.

for a few minutes, neither of you says anything. the silence between you is comfortable, filled with everything that’s unsaid but understood. and then, just when you think you can’t feel any more overwhelmed by the weight of it all, he pulls back a little, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw.

“you’re... real,” he murmurs, as if it’s just occurred to him. “this whole thing... you’re really here.”

you smile, a little breathless, still floating in the aftershock of the kiss. “i could say the same about you.”

he shakes his head softly, his eyes full of wonder. “no. i mean... i really missed you. i’ve been... so stupid not to just come here sooner.”

“it’s okay,” you say, gently. “you’re here now. that’s all that matters.”

he smiles, a little sheepish, and you can’t help but lean in for another kiss, slow this time, just a soft press of lips as if to say everything you haven’t yet. he kisses you back just as gently, and for a moment, you feel like you’ve finally found the place where you both belong, tucked away under the cherry blossoms, where time feels endless and the rest of the world doesn’t matter.

that week unfolds like a secret you get to keep.

spring break in 1991 feels like borrowed light—just warm enough for jackets to hang open, just cool enough for coffee to still feel necessary. the campus empties a little more each day, the sidewalks quieter, the dorms thinner with sound, and you and jay exist inside it like the only ones left.

you meet him every morning at the little café just off campus. he always gets the same thing: black coffee, extra strong, and a cinnamon roll if they haven’t sold out by ten. you try something new each day, let him steal bites, press your knees together under the table when no one’s looking. he watches you talk with his chin propped on his palm, like you’re something out of a song he’s only now learning the words to.

you walk everywhere. to the used bookstore with the creaky wood floors and the cat that sleeps in the poetry section. to the park with the duck pond, where you both pretend not to care that your hands brush more than once. to the laundromat even, where you sit on top of the machines with a bag of shared chips, watching the clothes tumble, talking about nothing and everything.

one afternoon, you take him to the record store a few blocks away. the bell above the door jingles when you enter. he goes quiet in that way he does when he’s really happy, thumbing through crates like he’s handling treasure. you wander into the second-hand tapes, until you feel his hand slip into yours.

“you’re wearing it,” he says.

you look down. the braided thread bracelet he made you is snug around your wrist, a little frayed from time.

“of course,” you say, like it’s obvious.

he smiles, and it’s soft in a way you almost never see. “i didn’t think you still would.”

you roll your eyes. “you underestimate me.”

“no,” he says. “i think i just miss a lot of you.”

you find a dusty smiths vinyl in the back corner. he insists on buying it, even though you argue it’s too expensive for a college student who already works two jobs. he tells you you’re worth overpriced music and more.

you listen to it later in your room, the both of you stretched out on your bed, sharing a single pillow. you press your foreheads together and try not to think about how fast the week is going. you trace the freckles on his arms like constellations and wonder how long you’ll get to keep this version of him—warm, present, real.

some nights you stay out late, sitting under the cherry tree, shoulders pressed close in the quiet dark. other nights, you fall asleep in the common room watching movies from the campus video library, wrapped in the same scratchy blanket, popcorn spilled everywhere.

you don’t talk about what you are, not exactly. but he always finds your hand first. he always walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street. he kisses your forehead like a promise.

and every day, you feel it more: this thing between you, still unnamed, but steady. something building. something real.

one night, you lie on the floor of your dorm room, your legs tangled, his head resting on your chest. you read aloud from your book until your voice gets soft and slow. when you pause, he murmurs, “don’t stop,” like he’s afraid silence will mean goodbye. you read until you can’t keep your eyes open, and when you wake up the next morning, his hand is still in yours.

the day before he’s supposed to leave, you take him to the park. you take him deeper in, where the trees open into a wide clearing and the lake stretches out like glass, catching pieces of the sky. you brought a blanket in your tote bag, and you spread it over the grass with shaking hands, not from nerves, but from how full your chest feels just having him beside you again.

he whistles low when he sees the view. “you’ve been keeping this place a secret from me?”

you smile, sitting cross-legged on the blanket. “figured i needed to impress you with something.”

he grins as he drops down beside you, close enough that your knees touch. “mission accomplished.”

you both fall quiet, watching the sun glint on the water, the way the wind ripples across it like someone brushing their hand over silk. 

“you remember,” he says, eyes on the lake, “the first time we kissed?”

you look at him. he’s got that look on his face—the one he gets when he’s remembering something that still stings a little. “of course i do.”

he laughs softly, and there’s color rising in his cheeks. “god, i was such a mess that day. i think i was sweating through my shirt.”

“you were,” you say, biting back a grin. “you looked like you were gonna faint.”

“i almost did.”

you lean your head on his shoulder. “you still kissed me, though.”

“yeah,” he says, quieter now. “best decision i ever made.”

for a while, you just sit like that, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the wind in the trees and the distant sounds of kids playing somewhere far off. 

“i wanted to tell you something,” he says eventually, shifting slightly so he can see you better. “about the band.” you straighten a little, curious. “we’re gonna start playing more. not just on campus, but local shows. house parties, bars, that kind of thing. one of the member’s cousin knows a guy who books gigs.”

“jay,” you say, your voice light but sincere, “that’s amazing.”

he shrugs like it’s nothing, but his smile gives him away. “we’re getting paid too. not a ton, but enough to cover meals, gas, maybe even some rent if we play enough.”

“i’m proud of you,” you say, and you mean it. “i always knew you’d do something with that music.”

he turns to you again, his eyes soft. “we’re playing in two weekends. it’s a friday night set, off-campus, but not far. if you came... i’d really like that.”

“i’ll try,” you say. “really. i will.”

“you’d probably hate the crowd,” he says. “everyone’s a little drunk and way too into themselves.”

“i don’t care about the crowd,” you say. “i’d be there for you.”

he smiles again, but this time it fades a little faster, like something heavier is sitting behind it.

“i’ve been thinking,” he says, slower now. “about us.” 

you nod. you’ve been thinking about it too. every day since he got here. every letter, every night you read them under your sheets like prayers. “i don’t want to hold you back,” he says. “i mean it. i don’t ever want you to feel like you have to wait around for me.”

your chest tightens, but you don’t look away. “i never felt like i had to,” you say. “i wanted to.”

he exhales, eyes flicking to the ground. “it’s hard, being far. i hate not knowing when i’ll see you next, if your letters are gonna come this week, if you’re okay.”

“it is hard,” you say. “but not harder than not having you in my life.”

that gets him.

he looks up at you, and his eyes are full, like he’s carrying the weight of something he’s been holding back for too long. but they’re steady too. there’s no hesitation in them. no fear. just the quiet conviction of someone who has finally found the right words and the right moment to say them.

“i love you,” he says.

not softly. not tucked behind nervous laughter or hidden in a passing joke. he says it plainly, like it’s always been true. like it’s not a question or a gamble, but a fact of who he is.

you go still. not because you didn’t want to hear it, but because you did. you’d been dreaming about hearing it. you’d written it in letters you never sent. whispered it to your pillow on nights the silence felt too loud. but now that it’s real, that it’s here between you, it takes your breath away.

your heart is beating too hard. your chest feels tight in the best and worst way. it’s like you’re floating and anchored all at once.

“i love you too,” you say.

the words fall out soft, but certain. no tremble. no second-guessing. it feels like unlocking something that’s been waiting inside you for months. and he smiles. not his usual grin. this one is slower, quieter. full of something tender and wrecked and entirely sincere. he lets out a shaky breath, like hearing it back made something loosen in his chest.

he reaches for your hand, threads his fingers through yours, and holds on like he’s scared you might disappear.

“i didn’t know if i should say it,” he admits, voice low. “i didn’t want to make this harder.”

you shake your head, blinking fast again. “you didn’t.”

he watches you, eyes glinting in the light fading over the lake. “i know we don’t have answers yet. i know we’re not in the same place. but i love you, and i don’t want to pretend i don’t. not anymore.”

you nod, and your throat feels too tight for a second to speak. but then you do. “thank you for saying it.”

he presses his forehead to yours, and you close your eyes. the wind brushes over your cheeks. “i want to do this right,” he whispers. “i want to keep showing up. even when it’s messy. even when we’re apart. i’ll write, i’ll call—whatever it takes. i just want you to know that i’m yours.”

you feel like crying again, but it’s the good kind. the overwhelming, grateful kind. “you already are,” you whisper back.

he kisses you then. slow and certain, like he’s been waiting to show you just how much he meant every word. you kiss him back with everything you have. every letter you never sent. every weekend you spent missing him. and for a little while, it feels like you’re in the exact right place, with the exact right person, and the rest can wait.

because now you know. and now he knows. and for now, that’s everything.

the sky is gray when you wake up. not stormy, just still. the apartment is quiet except for the soft hum of the radiator. you make coffee without asking, and toast because it's simple. neither of you says much while you move around the kitchen. it's not awkward. it's just early, and this kind of morning carries its own language. when you finally sit down across from him, he offers a small smile and reaches for your hand across the table. his thumb brushes over your knuckles like he's grounding himself there. you want to ask him to stay, just one more day, but you know how it works. time doesn't pause just because you want it to.

“thank you,” he says, voice low. “for everything. for this week.”

you nod, not trusting yourself to say much more. “me too.”

you finish breakfast slowly, letting the minutes stretch. when it’s time to go, you both move a little slower than usual. jackets, shoes, keys—everything done with quiet care. on the walk to the train station, the streets are calm. a few shops are just opening. jay looks at all of it like he’s trying to take a piece of the city with him.

at the station, the platform is mostly empty. his train isn’t there yet. he sets his bag down and turns to you, both hands in his pockets, like he’s unsure of what to do with them. you take one of them in yours. “i’ll write,” he says quietly, steady.

you nod, trying not to let it show on your face, how much you want him to keep that promise. “you better,” you say, your voice soft but certain.

he smiles, and this time it reaches his eyes in a way that makes your chest tighten. there’s something steady in him, something quiet and real, like he’s trying to memorize your face without making it obvious. then he steps forward and pulls you into a hug. his arms fold around your back, warm and familiar, and you press your face into the space between his shoulder and his neck. you close your eyes. breathe in. it still smells like his soap and the coffee you shared earlier and something that’s just him.

it isn’t a desperate hug. it’s not rushed or falling apart. it’s slow, like neither of you wants to risk breaking whatever this is. he doesn’t hold you too tightly, and you don’t cling, maybe because you both know that if you do, it might unravel you. instead, you just stand there, holding each other like you’re saying something that can’t be said out loud.

when he finally pulls back, he looks at you for a second longer. his eyes move over your face like he’s trying to remember it exactly—every freckle, every line, every part that makes you, you. then he leans in and kisses your cheek, warm and slow, and you think that might be enough. but then he hesitates, just a beat, and his eyes flick to yours, asking without words. and you answer by closing the distance.

he kisses you, soft and steady. not rushed, not messy, just something quiet and sure. it feels like something you’ve been holding in for too long, and now that it’s here, neither of you pulls away too fast. you hold his jacket in your hands and try not to think about how long it might be before you get to do this again. his hands settle at your waist, his thumbs brushing the hem of your sweater. for a few seconds, the station disappears.

when the kiss breaks, your foreheads stay pressed together. both of you quiet. both of you trying to hold the moment still.

the train pulls into the station with a low sound, wheels scraping gently against the track. you both glance at it, then at each other again. he gives your hand one last squeeze before picking up his bag. the straps are worn, one of the buckles is broken, and you think about how far that bag has already traveled. 

“you should go,” you say, finally, your voice low. he nods, but he doesn’t move yet. just gives you one last look, and it holds more than words could.

“take care of yourself, okay?” he says. you nod. “and write to me. even if i’m slow sometimes.”

“i always do,” you say.

this time, you do say goodbye. both of you.

“bye, jay.”

“bye, love,” he says, just as soft.

jay walks toward the train with slow steps, one hand gripping the strap of his bag, the other shoved in his pocket like he’s not sure what to do with it. you stay where you are, not trusting yourself to move. your fingers are clenched around the edge of your sweater, the morning air crisp and dry around you, the sound of the platform soft and distant.

he doesn’t look back right away. just keeps going until he reaches the open door, and then he pauses, just for a second, and turns. your eyes meet. he doesn’t smile this time, doesn’t say anything, but the look is enough. it holds everything neither of you could say, everything you might’ve said if there were more time.

he steps onto the train. you watch him through the window as he walks down the aisle and finds a seat near the middle. he sets his bag down carefully, then turns to face you again. he presses his hand to the glass, palm open. you do the same. for a second, it feels like you're right there with him.

the train jolts once, then starts to move. slow at first. you walk alongside it for a few steps, matching its pace, not ready to let go. he watches you the whole time. he lifts his hand in a small wave. you don’t wave back, but you hold his gaze until he’s out of sight.

the platform feels too quiet after. the tracks stretch out in front of you, empty now. there’s a chill in the air, but you don’t feel it yet.

you stand there for a while, not really thinking, just feeling the space where he used to be. something in you knows this isn’t like the other goodbyes you’ve had before. it’s heavier. it settles deep.

that was the spring of 1991. and that was the last time you saw jay park in years.

author's note: first of all IM SO SORRY for leaving y’all hanging at the end like that 😭 but if people end up loving this story, i promise i’ll write and post part two. pinky swear.

this fic means a lot to me. i’ve always wanted to write something set in the late 80s / early 90s and finally getting to do it with jay as the main character felt really special. btw this is my first long jay fic ever, so i really hope the jay utteds out there enjoy it 🫶

also, in case it wasn’t obvious, just like heaven by the cure is my favorite song of all time :)

thank you so much for reading!!!! <3

UPDATE: part 2 is out now, read here <3

my masterlist <3

“You’re sick,” Riki grimaces, eyes following you as you pause in front of your full length mirror. “Sick in the head,” He continues, you leaning closer to ensure your lipgloss wasn’t smudged in the slightest and hair flowed the way you wanted.

“You realize that Jay’s literally seen you at your worst, right? Like before you decided he was hot and shit you looked like a troll here at the house,” Heeseung adds with a snort, leant against the doorframe with his arms crossed. You meet his gaze through the mirror, a sarcastic smile sent his way as you flip him off through the reflection.

“We’re going to a party,” You remind, deflecting how much effort you put into the look rather than the majority of it being to impress the practically household name that belongs to Park Jongseong. “Besides, he likes this skirt and gives me stuff for free so this would actually benefit you too, idiot,”

Heeseung pauses, thinking over the fact that even with the long-term friend discount, Jay practically gave you whatever you asked for these days with little to no charge. Biting his tongue for once, he nods, but that doesn’t erase the obvious annoyance and discomfort he felt thinking about you and one of his best friends being together.

Riki shakes his head, laid on your bed petting the short-haired cat that was curled into his side. Said boy was a part of the trio that lived next door to your apartment, Nishiurma Riki, the one you and Heeseung called over to feed your shared pets and watch them for a while on the nights you planned on being out for long.

He had no problem with it, especially with the easy money he gained and the fact that the two of you always left enough for him to order in on top of that. Thus he was familiar with the sight, one he’s been having to see unfold more and more recently.

What he did have a problem with was you getting involved with Park Jongseong in the first place. You were smart, pretty, and admittedly a crazy bitch, but you were one of the first people who he actually felt at home with aside from Jungwon and Sunoo.

And sure, Jay wasn’t that bad. Hell, he allows Riki to speak Japanese openly and keeps up, though sometimes slow and tripping over his words, but still allows him to feel comfortable speaking his native language. But Jay also sold weed as a pastime and had a track record of being the biggest asshole when something pissed him off. Not that he’s actually seen it quite yet but still, you deserved the best.

Not that Riki would actually ever voice his opinion on it, after all it was your life and you were an adult. Besides, Sunoo and Jungwon made their comments enough to tell you their not quite distaste but not quite liking of him even though your circles rarely overlapped on occasion.

“Are you done? Jake says they’re pulling up,” Heeseung pulls your attention away from the reflection where you had just finished clasping your last layered necklace. You gave yourself a once over, a smile of satisfaction quirking at the corners of your lips as you turned around.

“Let’s go,” You hum, slinging the thin jacket over your shoulders for minimal protection from the cold outside air. You spared a look to Riki before you exited the room, shooting the younger boy a wink as your voice lingered through the walls bidding your goodbyes to him and the cats for the night.

You could hear Heeseung’s footsteps follow, you waiting at the front door for him to open it per routine and you nearly jumping coming inches apart from a rather giddy looking Jake. There was a slight gleam to his look, notably already started on his pregame and a few strands fallen from his almost perfectly styled hair from his habit of running his hands through it.

Jake practically bounced on the heels of his feet, a sloppy smile playing at his lips as he pulled a familiar thin white tube from his pocket. “Hoon’s not drinking but he’s down for a smoke, you guys want in on this one?”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶ ─ · ·

“There she is!” Lara giggles, an arm thrown around your shoulders pulling you in for a hug with her words somehow louder than the blaring music that came from the speakers in the house. “Bitch, where have you been? It’s soo late,”

“It’s barely 9,” You snort, stumbling a bit to uphold her weight seeing how rather fucked up she already seemed so early on. “We just got here, you been drinking for a minute?”

“Manon and I might’ve gone a little crazy while pregaming,” Lara admits, the cup in her hand sloshing around with unfamiliar contents of alcohol. “Midterms have been a bitch, I needed this. But trust, I’m good—nowhere near throwing up yet,”

“Guess we gotta catch up,” Heeseung’s voice interrupts from behind. You noted the way Lara suddenly stood up straighter, and the stupid smile Heeseung was notorious for causing you to roll your eyes with a grimace.

“Don’t touch her,” You warn, waggling a finger at Heeseung while he lets out a laugh. You turn to Lara next as she pouts, “He’s gross, you’re drunk, trust me you’ll regret it,”

You excused yourself to make your way to the kitchen, the layout of the frat house familiar considering you’ve been here more times than you could count for parties. You bid friendly smiles and short greetings to the familiar faces, settling into the line of alcohol to choose from in the coolers filled with ice and a huge jug of jungle juice you wouldn’t dare think of trying.

You peeked into the fridge, smiling seeing the bottles of pineapple juice you begged Keeho to buy earlier in the day when he asked what drinks the frat should provide for the night. Perks of being friends with a member, you got to make yourself sweet drinks that tasted good and fucked you up at the same time.

Just as you finished pouring a generous amount of tequila into a new solo cup, you felt a hand find its place on your hip and the familiar smell of cologne that filled your senses that you’ve grown rather fond of.

“Hi princess,” Jay’s voice fluttered against the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath causing a chill to run up your spine and stupidly annoying smile to appear at your lips.

“Hi Jay,” You repeat, not bothering to spare him a look quite yet. You topped off your drink with juice to the brim, turning in your spot in his arms that kept you encased against the counter. You brought the drink to your lips, taking a sip and maintaining eye contact with him as you did.

“You look pretty,” He compliments, eyes flickering down to your lips as you hum. You held the cup up, Jay taking a small sip and chuckling at the excessive amount of liquor you had poured into the half-assed cocktail.

“Too strong?”

He shook his head, one hand squeezing your hip and the other tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as it fell out of place. “You know I don’t drink much,”

You hummed again, taking a longer drink this time and feeling the familiar burn down your throat. “You been waiting for me?” You tease, knowing well enough Jay was at practically every party on campus due to it being his best selling grounds.

But he nods, a laugh leaving his lips and you smile at the sight. A few months ago it would’ve been a rare occasion to even see him crack a smile at any of the stupid jokes the guys made, it felt good knowing how easy it was for you to see an even prettier sight of him now.

“Of course I have,” His voice is warm, the words teasing but there was a certain glint in his eyes as he scanned over every little detail of your face, almost as if he were memorizing a picture in his mind. “You get all dressed up f’me?”

“Of course I did,” You repeat, half hearted but his lips quirked at your words anyway. Just as he was about to speak again, a loud voice broke the bubble the two of you were in, reminding you of the loud music and numerous bodies that flowed about.

“Hey! I've been looking for you. You still got anything on you man?” An obnoxiously unfamiliar guy barreling toward you caused you to grimace. Obviously intoxicated, and probably far too drunk to get cross-faded at this point, you shrink away from Jays’ hold to allow him to do his business.

“Nah man,” Jay’s words were short, to the point and he barely spared the guy a look as his hand on your hip squeezed gently—a silent gesture for you to stay put.

“What? C’mon man it’s barely gonna be 10? No way you’re out—” The guy persisted, slurring his words and swaying in his spot. One of his hands came up to grab onto Jay’s shoulder while the other nearly dropped his opened seltzer right where you stood.

You stiffened, ready to push the clearly drunk loser away from you if he fell but you didn’t have to. Jay used one arm, shoving the guy back a few stumbled steps with a bored expression while the other hand didn’t let go of the protective hold he had on you.

“I’m out,” Is all he says. His jaw clenched, emphasizing his already prominent jawline and eyes sharp, practically daring the guy to push for more.

Even drunk, he seemed to take the hint. A short mumble of something along the lines of muttered insults were heard before you and Jay were left alone once more. And you snickered, giggling at the sight of the stumbling drunkard who made his way back to his group of friends who were expectantly waiting on his return.

“You alright?” Jay asked after a beat of silence, eyes running over your figure while you nod. He visibly relaxed, a smile quirking at his lips as he leaned in slightly. “You smoking tonight, pretty girl?”

You laughed, “Thought you were out?”

“I always have something for you,” He smirks, hand lacing with your own and beginning to pull you toward the back door that leads outside.

“For how much?”

Jay glances over his shoulder to send you a pointed look. “Don’t ask stupid questions,” He scoffs, nearly offended considering he hasn’t charged you in months. The only time you gave him money recently was for Heeseung who paid you for it in the first place.

“You’re letting me rob you at this point Jjong,” You snicker, goosebumps forming at the skin exposed on your legs from the chilly outside air that your mini skirt did nothing to combat against.

He doesn’t say anything, though you noticed the small quirk of his lips that he attempted to bite back. Jay pulls the two of you to the far end of the yard, numerous chairs spread around the pool unoccupied as it was growing colder with the seasons changing leaving the outside of the house with only a few lingering groups who talked amongst themselves.

He settles into a seat, dragging you down onto his lap rather than the empty chair directly beside his own. You raise a brow, refraining from a remark at how he couldn’t get enough of you considering you’ve grown to love how clingy he got at times. One of your arms draped over his shoulder, your legs perched across his own and he held you steady allowing for your weight to be leant against him with an arm encasing you to his chest.

Jay pulled a familiar baggie from his pocket, there only being two near perfectly rolled joints. He plucked one out, hand dipping into his pocket once more to pull out his lighter and tucking the remaining one away for now.

Wordlessly, he holds it up to your lips with one hand causing you to pout. “I have gloss on,” You remind, moving your head away while he sends you a bored look.

“When have I cared about shit like that?” He snickers. “It’s just me and you princess, not like you’re sharing with a group,” Jay reminds, eyes holding your own as you scrunch your nose. 

Jay lets out a breathy laugh before pulling you closer as he grips your chin, guiding your lips to his own. Your lips meet, a small gasp leaving your mouth out of surprise at the sudden contact and you could feel the cocky smile that formed on his features. Your hand found his hair, playing with the longer strands while rolling your hips in the slightest manner.

He pulled back, holding you in place with a pointed look as if telling you to behave. You smiled, thumb dragging over his bottom lip to remove the shine that transferred over from yours.

“Making me ruin your pretty make up,” Jay mumbles with a playful tsk, holding the joint up once more while you hum. Your lips wrapped around the tip, just enough to hold it while his other hand uses the lighter to spark it. He held the flame just enough for the paper to ignite, you sucking in a long hit to ensure the spliff would stay burning.

You held it for a moment, inhaling the smoke before turning your head the other way to not blow it directly in Jays’ face. You hear his laugh, knowing that you didn’t tend to like starting the first hit and you faced him with a roll of your eyes.

You watched him take a long drag, one that never failed to make you wonder how he didn’t end up coughing more but then again, he’s been smoking a lot longer than you. Jay could feel your eyes lingering on him longer than they should’ve, his second inhale shorter but he blew the smoke in your face this time after meeting your gaze.

You shook your head, hand gently pushing his face away from your own as his laugh filtered through the air between you. He holds out the joint for you to grab, careful to not drop it considering your nails were longer than usual thanks to your fresh set and Manon encouraging you to do long rather than medium this time.

You took a comfortable puff while glancing around the backyard. You looked toward the house, half a mind to remember to check on Jake soon considering he was probably the most fucked up by now.

“You come with the guys, right?”

You nod. “Sunghoon’s the DD for the night,” Cheeks blowing out a notable breath due to the cold air as you tilted your head back with a sigh. “Jake was already on a good one before we left, had two joints in the car… which I assume he got from you?”

Jay lets out a breathy laugh, the sound causing your gaze to fall back on him feeling the small shrug he did. “Gave him a couple extra the other day but I guess he held onto them for tonight,”

A beat of silence passed over you two, your eyes scanning his side profile as Jay draws small circles with his hand on your hip. You pass back the slow burning joint to him, taking a sip of the cold drink in your hand which caused you to shiver.

“Why’d you start selling?” Your question lingered in the air between you. You’ve never asked, because quite frankly, you never cared. Hell, it wasn’t like Jay was the deep type that went through the why’s and what if’s in his life much anyway.

Plus, everyone in his circle knew him, so why talk about the shitty situations he’s put himself through more than needed? It wasn’t healthy, obviously, but he was also a guy who had friends that didn’t get emotional with each other unless drunk around a fire at 3am.

But you were you, Heeseung’s loud mouth younger cousin that infiltrated the group's lives two years ago when you came to live with him for uni. He’d seen you at your worst already, be it first thing in the morning or late at night off a drunken escapade having to be carried home and slung over the toilet for hours on end.

He knew you, and you knew him, but neither of you actually cared aside from the superficial bond between you two that Heeseung bridged.

Well until a few months ago when whatever this was started to occur. It took one night, an utterly helpless you who flunked your econ class that led to you and Jay in a room together at a party much like this. Your first smoke, one that you begged for and he only gave in after you shoved a crumpled wad of cash — that he snuck back into your purse that night, into his hands because he felt bad.

Because you were you, and he’d never seen you look so miserable before. It was just supposed to be an excuse for him to let you rant, let you indulge in whatever turmoil shit you had going on that you refused to tell Heeseung out of your own ego.

But it wasn’t that simple, not after you spilled every last worry to him as if he were a paid therapist and he realized that you were a dramatic overthinking kid hours away from anyone and everything familiar. So maybe it was pity, or maybe it was the sprout of attraction that misguided his judgment, but one night of self indulgence led to many.

And at some point instead of you sitting across the room from him, you were perched beside him. Ghost smiles and gentle touches turned to sharing seats with one another til at some point, whenever you were together Jay couldn’t keep his hands off you.

“Money,” He says simply, the words clipped in an obvious manner to not ask more. You purse your lips, a slight sting felt from his blunt way to keep you at a distance. You felt like he should’ve given you a little credit, hell he’s been in you a handful of times now, having a decent conversation aside from weed, sex, and alcohol seemed reasonable to you.

When you didn’t respond, Jay took note of the silence that followed. The way you didn’t bother to spare him a look, seemingly finding the open night sky more fascinating than him and taking long sips of your drink that continued to melt as time passed.

Jay watched you, the slight annoyance overshadowed once he noticed your pout. He shook his head, adjusting in his seat with you still perched on his lap as his arms snaked around your waist. “C’mon pretty, don’t get like that. We don’t need to talk about useless shit,”

He mumbled the words against your skin, placing a lazy kiss to your shoulder while you shifted against him. Jay chuckles, a hand softly but firmly moving your chin to look at him. “Can’t have my girl mad at me,”

“I’m not your girl, Jay,” You mutter, attempting to pull your head away but he tsks, fingers gripping the sides of your face and holding you steady. His eyes held a certain look, cocky and taunting as he leaned closer.

“Wanna bet?”

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“What’s wrong, baby?” Jay hummed, laughter bubbling through his words as he forced your head up with the grip he held on the base of your hair. His eyes met yours through the mirror, teeth grazing up your neck, making sure to leave a mark while his hips pressed your own into the bathroom counter.

Your skirt was hiked up, lace panties pushed to the side and your tits bounced with each thrust from where Jay had yanked your shirt down. The metal of your piercings glistened every bounce, your nipples fully erect and sensitive every time Jay’s fingers rolled the buds. Your mascara smudged, hair in disarray from Jay’s yanking, forcing you to watch the way he fucked himself into you. Muffled music blared throughout the house, the occasional knock on the door letting you know you had an audience but Jay didn’t care, not after you practically begged him to show you who you belonged to earlier like it was a cute joke.

Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth, muffling your moans out of your own ego but also so the line waiting outside didn’t have more of a clue of the fact that you were getting put in your place—although Jay had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t going to be out until he was done after the third knock.

“You should know better by now,” Jay continued, the heat of his breath lingered against your skin. His palm placed a harsh smack to your ass that bounced against him, the hit causing you to hiss while he smirked. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your hips surely to leave a mark, Jay let out a gruntled groan as your walls clenched around him, your body showing how much you liked it even if you were giving him the silence treatment to prove a point. “Pussy knows who you belong to already, you’re made f’me and she knows it,”

“Fuck off,” You manage out, eyes screwed shut feeling the way Jay’s dick kissed your cervix with every deep thrust. There was only one other time the sex you had was like this, rough and possessive, Jay fed up with your drunken behavior that led to you flirting with another guy at a party after a small fight between you two.

He was definitely rougher that time, dragging you into his car and fucking you dumb after making you repeat like a mantra how your body was only for him to touch as long as he was around. You loved it, your body reacting to his touch proving it without you even saying a word.

“So mean baby,” Jay tsks, words mumbled with faux offense. He manages to press himself deeper into you, the curve of his dick hitting just right as a moan left your lips before you could stop it. “Fuuck, there you go, ‘was missing those pretty little noises you make,”

You let out muffled whimpers, head falling forward and desperately trying to keep quiet but you couldn’t. Not with the feeling of Jay hitting you just right every time, not when he reached around to rub his thumb against your clit, your mind going fuzzy and legs growing wobbly to where he had to wrap his arm around your waist and keep you steady.

“So tight baby,” Jay breathes out, a sloppy open mouthed kiss pressed to your shoulder. “You’re takin’ me so well,”

The lewd sounds of your skin slapping echoed throughout the acoustics of the bathroom. If you weren’t slightly intoxicated you might’ve had half a mind to tell Jay to stop being so loud, you probably would’ve convinced him to find a room in the first place. But you didn’t, and god did you not care about anyone else right now.

Your head falls to his shoulder, moans now overtaking the sounds of your bodies and Jay fingers continue the assault on your clit with his growing sloppy pace. He connects your lips, half a mind to shut you up but couldn’t deny the ego boost of his name falling from your mouth.

The tight pull in your stomach tensed, Jay’s grip on your hip leaving fingerprints in your skin. “Fuck, Jay, please,” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a rush between the sloppy kisses. He hummed against your lips, his smile felt as he picked up the pace. His other hand trailed up your waist, pinching at your erect nipple and rolling the piercing, the sight far too pretty and he was grateful for the past you who decided to pierce them in the first place.

You clenched around him, your pussy sucking him in as you rode out your own orgasm, eyes screwed shut and mind fuzzy. His thumb rubbed your clit at a consistent pace until it became overstimulating, you pushed him away lazily and he bent you over the sink to finish.

“Such a good girl my love,” Jay praised, voice low and strained as his head dips back. “So good,” He muttered, continuing with a few more deep thrusts before he pulled out just enough so his tip spilled his warm cum onto your ass, not quite inside but all over your hole that clenched at the loss of him. You could see him smile through the mirror, heavy breaths of satisfaction and a slight gleam of sweat covered his honey skin in the light.

His eyes met yours, the smirk on his lips only growing once he pushed his tip back inside momentarily, you letting out a loud moan feeling the remnant of his cum pushed deep inside you to drip out later.

He pulled you up, dick still buried inside and you could feel the last few twitches of his cock against your walls. The warmth was overwhelming, he hadn’t came inside you directly, but made sure to push enough in after the initial few shots to prove a point. You were on the pill, and Jay would most likely get you one tomorrow either way, but he was a cocky bastard who simply wanted his cum to drain out of you for the rest of the night either way.

“You okay?” He asks softly, a small but innocent kiss placed on your shoulder. His hands softly grazed over your body, adjusting your shirt and brushing the astray strands of hair from your face that stuck to your sweat. You nodded, far too fucked out to say anything and still in a daze from your own orgasm. “What, you don’t got any other smart ass remarks now?”

You rolled your eyes, turning your head ever so slightly to meet his gaze properly. “Shut up,” You mumble, lip tucked between your teeth as you playfully tsked. Jay laughed, placing a chaste kiss to your lips in the process. “Now clean me up, we have a walk of shame to do and a line of pissed off drunk people to see,”

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“I peed in a bush, you sick fucks,” Manon huffs, eyes narrowed at you from across the table where she was slumped over her books. You rolled your eyes, biting back your smile of amusement as memories of last Friday flicker in your mind.

Lara giggles to your left, nudging her shoulder into your own with a suggestive smile. “I support women’s wrongs, good for you for getting dick by one of the hottest guys on campus,”

“Ah yes, because we want you to be a druglord's wife once we graduate,” Manon snorts, the statement one that caused you to burst out in a fit of laughter, baffled by the sudden upgrade of distaste to this.

“You’re so dramatic,” Lara rolls her eyes.

“He sells weed, it’s not like he’s a kingpin, Mon,” You snicker. “Seung told me he’s gonna stop soon too I guess, ‘cause ya know, we’re gonna graduate at some point. I know you guys think he’s just a pothead but he is prelaw and on track with summa cum laude,”

“Every time you tell us that, I think it’s ironic considering he’s selling weed, illegally, to minors a lot of the time ,” Manon emphasized, leaning back in her seat as she played with the ends of her braids absentmindedly.

You purse your lips with a small shrug. You weren’t together, technically, and you weren’t required to defend him to quite literally everyone around you because of his reputation, but it was growing a little old hearing how much your friends disliked him. Sure it wasn’t a great relationship, but you weren’t sitting there begging him to be your boyfriend in some one-sided situationship.

Jay treated you well, better than he owed you considering you were fuck buddies more than anything. At no point did you expect anything, not more than you were willing to give, and to be quite honest, you didn’t want a relationship. You had no actual responsibility, no mental need to be mindful of another person when you barely kept yourself afloat these days.

You didn’t have to see him everyday, you didn’t have to remember to text back, and you sure as hell didn’t have to care about his feelings when you weren’t together. But it was your choice to keep him around, and honestly, you loved the way he acted to your beck and call when needed.

Lara, seemingly catching the subtle shift in your mood, cleared her throat. She nudged her shoulder into your own, a soft smile of quiet reassurance before she changed the topic entirely. You nodded, engaging in small conversation but your mind was elsewhere as you scribbled random drawings in the corner of your notebook.

Your phone buzzed from the tabletop, you picking it up while the two continued to talk unaware.

jjong<3: busy?

y/nnie: why you missing me already?

jjong<3: always

jjong<3: let me take you out for the night

y/nnie: hm fine. at the study hall, come get me🥱

You click off your phone, beginning to gather your things into your bag in order. Manon and Lara watched you, both silently sending each other looks but knowingly choosing to not say a word. And like clockwork, your head picked up to see Jay’s familiar figure stepping in through the entry doors.

His hair was messily slicked back, once done perfectly but had a hand run through it throughout the day. You rose a brow at the business casual look he was sporting–dark slacks, a black button up, and dress shoes with his bag slung over his shoulder, presumably just finished up with whatever assignment his class required for him to dress up for.

You spared a look to your friends who had followed your line of view. You smiled innocently, bidding them a halfhearted goodbye. “Sorry girls, I’m off to self-sabotage and let my walking red flag take me out for the night,” You wink, partially joking but the slight annoyance from the conversation seeped into your words.

You didn’t stay for their responses and sure remarks of you ditching the unprompted study session you were in the midst of. Instead you waltzed your way to Jay who met you halfway, a small smirk quirked at the corner of his lips as he gave you a once over, his eyes slow and deliberate.

“I’m gonna stop you right now,” You cleared your throat as soon as you were in talking range, a hand held up to create distance between you. “You’re not getting any sex from me tonight, Park Jongseong. Take it or leave it,” You state bluntly, you regretting it as soon as the words left your lips though once you got an up close view of him, the thought of unbuckling his belt and seeing his come undone in his formal attire flickering through your mind.

Jay raises a brow, head tilting in the smallest of ways as his eyes narrow at you. He takes a second, gaze searching your own for a moment. “I’m not that bad for you to assume that’s all I want you for, am I?” He chuckles, words meant to be joking but you felt the slight offense hidden in his expression.

You shrug, breaking his gaze suddenly embarrassed for insinuating. Sure your relationship was mainly sex, but Jay wasn’t that shallow to leave you just because you didn’t want to do anything, he was your sort of friend-by-association before anything.

Maybe everyone being in your ear emphasizing how you were basically a free use doll was starting to get to you.

He stays silent for a moment, you still avoiding his gaze and shifting your arms across your front uncomfortably. Jay sighs, rolling his eyes half-heartedly as he closes the space between you. “Stop overthinking whatever shits making your pretty little head spin,” He mutters, dragging the strap of your bag off your shoulder and instead slinging it over his own to carry. Jay then grabs hold of your hand, gently lacing your fingers and beginning to guide you out of the student center.

“For the record, I never expect anything from you whenever we see each other,”

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Your shoulder brushed against his arm every so often, sandwiched between Jay’s broad shoulders and the wall as he insisted on sitting on the same side of the tiny booth you sat at. Tucked away in the corner of the small Thai place you found a few weeks ago, the low lighting created a cozy ambiance with delicious aroma flowing throughout the fairly busy restaurant.

Jay was leant against the tabletop, body angled toward you and arm draped across the seats, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair absentmindedly. The orders of spring rolls, fried rice, and pad sew half eaten, both of you fed and engaging in small conversation.

After a lingering beat of silence, Jay lets out a long, frustrated, groan. His head tilts back, adam’s apple bobbing and jawline prominent. “Alright, what’s up doll?”

“Huh?”

Jay gave you a bored look, eyes trailing over you, studying your features as if he knew everything about you. “You’re thinking about something,” He mutters, his thumb pressing gently to your forehead to release the tension of your pinched brows you were unaware of. “What’s going on in that pretty little head?”

You shrug, turning your attention toward your plate and pushing around the few bites you hadn’t finished from before. The fork softly scraped against the porcelain, the sound causing you to wince. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re bad for me, and I’m getting tired of hearing it,”

Jay doesn’t respond at first, instead he scoffs, the light laugh that followed didn’t feel as nonchalant as it was supposed to. His eyes watch you, your gaze focused through the shop windows avoiding him. Your hands toyed with each other, shoulders dropping once you let out a long breath.

“It’s annoying, you know? We’re not even together, so I don’t get why it matters. And you’re not as bad as everyone makes you out to be,” You ramble, brows pinched once more growing seemingly annoyed as you speak. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want a relationship with you. I’m perfectly fine with what we have going on but everyone’s in my ear about us being together or not and it’s just like, a girl can want a casual fuck too, you know? Besides, you may be an asshole sometimes but the frat guys are ten times worse with no provoking. So I don’t know why everyone thinks you’re so bad for me like I’m a kid who doesn’t know any better. I’m an adult, actively making decisions, one including the friends with benefits thing we have so why is it so bad?”

Jay watched you for a moment, the way your shoulders tensed, the way you began to wave your hands around as you spoke, your lips pulled into a pout unknowingly. He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips, your words registered but held little importance to him where he stood in the predicament you found yourself in.

“Even if I were the perfect guy for you, everyone would have something to say eventually,” He shrugs, words stated so simply while you broke your simmering anger to give him a confused look. “You’re choosing this, I’m choosing you. Who cares what everyone thinks?”

You falter, shoulders shrinking not knowing what to say. Your lips part, a loss for words as you blink. “I don’t,” You stutter. “Not necessarily, it’s just, don’t you get tired of everyone asking if we’re dating?”

Jay shrugs, leaning back against the booth as he takes a sip of his drink. “Everyone knows you’re mine,”

You roll your eyes. “That, that’s the point,” You tsk. “We’re not together, Jongseong, you can’t keep feeding that theory by saying shit like that. We’re fucking exclusively out of respect for one another, not because we’re boyfriend-girlfriend. Your ‘claim’ on me can only go so far,” You ramble, arms folding across your front. “You can’t call me your girl with your whole chest like that. Just because we know each other physically and have a surface level relationship, doesn’t mean we’re anywhere near this imaginary couple everyone thinks we are,”

“We’re not together because you don’t want us to be,” Jay says through a clipped tone, words stated with an obvious edge while you gave him an incredulous look. He met your gaze, his steady and certain, a slight annoyance in his expression while your mind ran over analyzing in denial of the confession.

“Wh-what’re you talking about?”

“I’ve never said I was opposed to an actual relationship with you, our dynamic is the way that it is on your own accord,” He states bluntly. “We’ve been at this for months, if you were just a fuck and dump I would’ve been gone a long time ago, you know that,” Jay emphasized, still refusing to shift his piercing gaze from your own.

You had nothing to say. You couldn’t at least, not once did you overthink your relationship, not once did you allow any sort of delusional feelings fester out of your own pride. The thought of being a cliche girl left heartbroken far too embarrassing, not to mention you truly knew nothing about each other when it came down to it.

“We don’t even know each other,” You breathe out, lamely grasping at straws to justify your oblivious ignorance to his confession and presumed feelings all this time.

Jay pursed his lips, nodding along after a moment. He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter and gathering the leftover food items the waiter had dropped off before your sort-of fight began. There was a shift, an obvious wall wedged between you even if Jay hadn’t said so, moving around you with ease.

“You let me know what you want then Y/N,” Jay finally says. “Relationship or not, being with me means people will talk. You decide where this goes,”

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It’s been a week. The longest you’ve gone without contact with Jay since you moved in with Heeseung a few years ago considering every few days the apartment would be flooded with the group hanging out in your living room and eating all the snacks in sight after getting the munchies.

You felt like an idiot, a confused  jumble of a mess because you thought that you had full control over your life once upon a time. Hell, the whole reason you didn’t want a proper relationship was for this–the fighting, stressing, and miscommunications turned into upset feelings and petty frustration. He hadn’t reached out, no random texts every day, no call in the middle of the night to talk, no meet-up slash date.

You didn’t either, taking time and over analyzing every moment you’ve spent together. You were an idiot for how much denial you were in prior, Jay was certainly your boyfriend without the label, at your beck and call and nearly always the one to put himself in your realm to ensure you felt taken care of but you never did the same. You were deluded by the fact that you believed he never, in a million years, wanted a relationship with you, Park Jongseong didn’t do relationships—at least according to every person you asked on campus, so what would’ve made you think differently? 

You were embarrassed, too awkward to reach out now. Everyday that passed you felt worse, deeming it as too much time to ask for forgiveness when you didn’t even have a proper handle on your own feelings. You still didn’t know if you were ready for a relationship, not because you were opposed to one with Jay, but because you lacked emotional maturity that you were willing to admit. Your last proper boyfriend was from high school, and that barely even counted.

Your door was pushed open without warning, Heeseung leaning against the frame holding one of your cats—Koi, in his arms. “You kiss and make up yet?” He asks with a raised brow. You pursed your lips, shaking your head and turning back to the mess you had on your desk from the attempts of studying you’ve been doing the last few days as a distraction. Heeseung let out a long groan. “Stop being stubborn, he’s been in a bad mood all week and it’s starting to get old with both of you moping over whatever dumb shit you’re fighting about,”

“He wants a relationship,” You mutter, words quiet but enough for Heeseung to catch across the room. You didn’t bother to look back, a small weight lifting off your shoulders as you hadn’t uttered a word to anyone about the shift in your relationship no matter how many times they asked.

“Jay told you he wants a relationship?” Heeseung repeats, voice significantly closer as you hear the weight of your bed shift behind you. You nod once. There was a beat of silence, and then a breathless laugh that escaped from Heeseung’s lips as he dragged your chair around to face him. “Park Jongseong told you he wants to be official and what? You don’t? I don’t understand, you two were basically there after the first month of whatever the fuck you had going on,”

“I didn’t think we were like that!” You defend lamely, pulling at the sleeves of your hoodie and shrinking in your seat. “As far as I knew, we were supposed to be friends with benefits, nothing more, nothing less,”

Heeseung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your excuses. “The only reason I didn’t flip out after finding out the two of you were hooking up was because I knew him,” He emphasized. “Jay wouldn’t have been around you everyday just because you gave him pussy. He’s an asshole, he wouldn’t care about you if you didn’t mean something to him Y/N,”

“How was I supposed to know that?” You shoot back, growing frustrated hearing the words you’ve thought in your head spoken out loud. “He doesn’t talk to me! I barely know him, he always pushed me away when I tried to get closer to him more than sex and surface level conversations. I don’t know him, so why is it my fault for thinking this meant nothing?”

Heeseung paused, his eyes softening slightly as he watched you ball yourself up in the chair. He reminded himself you didn’t know the guys like he did, you hadn’t known Jay long, nor did you meet him at the right time of who he truly is. “He’s been through a lot,” Heeseung starts carefully, words soft and watching the way you rolled your eyes. “It’s stupid, but he’s a guy. He’s not gonna tell you everything out of his own ego, and probably because he doesn’t want to bother you with worrying about him,”

“It’s been months Hee,” You sigh, head buried in your arms. “I deserve a little more credit, don’t I? He should trust me to talk to me, especially if he’s been waiting all this time for us to be together,”

“I’m not saying he’s justified for keeping himself blocked off when you’ve been there for him,” Heeseung agrees. “But, as smart as Jay is, he’s not the type to talk about his feelings after he deems them over with. I guess that’s why he’s gonna be a good lawyer, he compartmentalizes, as soon as it’s done, he pushes it away and forces himself to move on even if it’s not healthy and seeps through the cracks sometimes,”

You take a second, lifting your head with a pout. “I shouldn’t have to deal with an emotionally fucked up guy and help him help me understand him,”

Heeseung snorts, shrugging his shoulders. “True, but you’re not exactly sunshine and rainbows to be with either kid,”

You narrow your eyes. “What’re you getting at?”

“You’re avoidant,” He says simply. “I love Uncle Seon but it’s obvious to everyone he isn’t the best at expressing himself. You got a lot of his good qualities but you also picked up on how scared of love he is after what happened with your mom,” Heeseung adds carefully, watching how you reacted to the mention but you didn’t seem to flinch like you used to as kids. “You’re a good person, a best friend, but you suck at romance. You’d rather have the person without the commitment, hence your string of hook-ups before you landed on Jay cause he didn’t run away when you tried to push him out at the start,”

You blinked, eyes trailing over Heeseung who sat on your bed nonchalantly, hands absentmindedly playing with Koi who was settled at the foot of your bed. “When the fuck did you become emotionally mature and suddenly have all the answers?”

He smiled, a small laugh leaving his lips. “Wisdom comes with age,” Heeseung jokes, causing you to roll your eyes considering he was only three years older than you. “I took a psych class last semester for the credits, it was about interpersonal relationships,”

You hum. “That makes sense. At least you actually go to class and learn, I thought your stupid business major only taught you guys the primary colors and networking,”“Yah! Next time you need help with math don’t come to me,” Heeseung scolds, though his laughter bubbles through as you smile cheekily. He hits your knee lightly, rolling his eyes. “Point is, asshole, at least talk to him. You guys are good together, in some weird, gross, way that I’ll never admit to again unless you get married and I get to give a speech and talk about how I’m the reason you two met,”

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You had no idea what you were doing standing outside the Political Science building at 4pm on a Friday but here you were. You found out from Jake that Jay had a big project due today, all the fellow PolySci students dressed in formal attire had been going in and out of the building. You rocked on the heels of your feet, surprised by how many people actually took Friday classes as you refused to enroll in any from your first semester.

Apparently, Jay had to come in the extra day for a lecture and presentation and according to Jake, his portion was supposed to end at 4:15. You had no idea if he was certain, Jake was notorious for being terrible with time, hence why he was late to nearly every event you guys planned as a group.

But here you stood, awkwardly sat on one of the concrete benches under a large tree in the courtyard. You had a direct view to the main building, again you taking Jake’s word for it and praying he got all the information right.

Ten days have passed. After your talk with Heeseung, and mulling over your own ego and pettiness for a while, you woke up today feeling confident in resolving the weird limbo you were in. You figured a text would’ve been too impersonal, instead–for some god forsaken reason, your morning self was certain you could talk face-to-face without so much as a warning to Jay that you’d be coming by.

So you sat, too stubborn to run back home like you wanted but also simmering in your own pit of anxiety as time passed. Your head lifted up every time you heard the double doors creak open, you had showed up early—just in case, and practically counted down each minute.

4:16. You attempted to remain calm, restraining yourself from calling Jake and flipping out on him stating he had the wrong time.

4:17. The minutes seemed to pass quickly now. Your gaze steady on the entrance which has stayed still for the past few.

4:18. You glanced at your phone, lip tucked between your teeth nervously and you found yourself scrolling to Jay’s contact. You contemplated pressing the call button, the tightness in your chest from your nerves doing good to convince yourself that this was an idiotic plan and you should’ve asked to meet in the first place.

Just as you were about to give in, a figure casted a shadow over your own where the sun previously shone. You looked up, part of you hoping it was Jay but you were disappointed seeing a face you were unfamiliar with. A brunette stood in front of you, dressed in the formal attire you’d seen other students wear as well.

One hand held onto his backpack strap that was slung over one shoulder. The other was nervously scratching the back of his neck as he sent you a sheepish smile. “Hi,” He spoke, voice deep but shy. His eyes were light in the sun, the brown mixing into a golden hue. “I’m Park Wonbin,”

“Hi,” You respond, confused by the sudden exchange. “Lee Y/N,” You add, a polite smile on your features wishing to hurry up whatever he came over for. The suit definitely helped present himself but you could care less. You spent the last week grueling over a man, you intend to never have to do that again. “Did you need something?”

Wonbin falters for a second, eyes casting down nervously as he slips his phone from his back pocket. “You’re-uh, you’re beautiful,” He stumbles over his words, your shoulders tensing and having to refrain from visibly grimacing knowing he was attempting to ask you out. He was cute, conventionally at least, and seemed polite from how he approached, but the last thing you needed right now was a confession when you were trying to make one to Jay. “I was wondering if I could get your socials?”

Your mouth opens, then closes, unable to find the right words to let him down gently. You give him an apologetic smile, one he didn’t seem to catch onto causing you to sigh. “I’m sorry, I’m actually waiting for someone that I’m dating,”

“Dating?” He repeats.

“Exclusively,” You add, still sporting the smile but it felt more like a grimace. You let out a huff, grabbing your bag to stand up and praying you didn’t miss Jay exiting the building in the short minutes that took up your attention. Or worse, he saw, considering how jealous he was from the start. “I have to go—”

Your words were cut short once you looked past Wonbin for a split second. A few feet away, at the edge of the grass that met the concrete courtyard, Jay stood with his bag lazily draped over his shoulder and other hand tucked in his pants pocket. His hair was combed up neatly, button up shirt unbuttoned at the top three, exposing his undershirt and chain–the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dress pants hung nicely on his hips. His eyes were narrowed, flickering between you and Wonbin who turned to follow your gaze.

“Ah, Jay-shi, hello,” Wonbin greets with a polite bow. Jay tilts his head slightly in acknowledgment, not bothering for a proper response and you wince.

Jay’s eyes traveled over him, narrowed and sharp, taking account of the phone in his hand with the familiar add contact and how close he stood next to you. They shifted to you, softening slightly but you saw the flicker, obvious annoyance and confusion seeing you standing outside his class building when you didn’t take any courses anywhere near nor did you have them on Fridays.

His gaze stayed locked on you, head tilting and your feet moved quickly to reach his side. You hesitated on linking your arm with his own, Jay arching a brow noting your nerves and you pursed your lips. With a bow, you gave Wonbin a clipped smile. “Nice to meet you,” You say quickly, wishing to be anywhere but here in the awkward stares and uncomfortable silence.

You felt Jay’s hand press to your back, urging you to get up from the goodbye he deemed unnecessary. You stood straight and he allowed his hand to hold your hip, guiding the two of you away without another word. Jay looked forward, not bothering to spare you a glance as his free hand took your bag for him to carry like second nature. You gaped, not knowing if you should speak now or explain yourself as if you’d been caught doing something bad.

“Jay I—”

“Next time be rude,” He interrupts, words clipped and filled with frustration that he was managing well. “Don’t waste your breath being polite when I’ll make sure you never have to speak to him again,”

You purse your lips, eyes staring up at him for a moment but he didn’t bother to meet your gaze. You nod, looking ahead and following his lead wherever he meant to take you. “Okay,”

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The joint was tucked between Jay’s lips, one hand on the steering wheel while the other sparked the lighter to begin burning the end of his handmade roll. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the wheel, no words spoke between the two of you after he got you in the car and began driving.

Loud music blared from the speakers, the windows rolled down allowing for the cool breeze to run through your hair in a comforting mess. He didn’t bother putting on the usual playlist he knew you liked, the one filled with slow RnB and cheesy love songs, instead it was filled with rap, the type of upbeat and intense songs you assumed he mostly used at the gym to hype himself up to blow off steam.

Jay took a long puff to start the burning joint, the cloudy smoke filling the air between you though it dissipated fairly quickly with the windows down. He took another drag, sparing you glance for the first time as you rolled to a stoplight. He held his hand toward you, the spliff tucked between his fingers and you hesitantly reached out to take hold of the end but he quickly pulled away.

Your brows frowned, turning to Jay who stared back at you with an emotionless expression. He moves his hand once more, closer to your face and it registers that he was offering you a hit, but it had to be from him holding it. You leaned forward a bit, lips curling around the end and taking a deep inhale, the smoke flooded your lungs, Jay holding the joint steady even as the light turned green.

You pulled away, a small cough leaving your lips and you swore you caught the smirk that flickered at Jay’s lips as he watched you attempt to regain your composure. You gently pushed his hand away, him taking a long drag with ease causing you to roll your eyes.

“Are we gonna talk?” You finally manage, voice strained attempting to be louder than the song that blared through the speakers with heavy bass on every beat.

Jay spared you a short glance, joint tucked between his lips with a shrug. “Talk,” He says simply, you have to refrain from reacting to his obvious petty nature.

You pursed your lips, reaching for the stereo knob and turning down the music to a respectable level. “I didn’t come to get high with you,” You start. You nearly wince at the lame attempt at an ice breaker, Jay snorting at your words.

“You’ve pissed me off for the past week,” He shrugs. “If I was gonna hear you out, I needed this. Besides, I figured it would help you finally spit out whatever you came to say,”

“Well I’d rather not you be high for this,” You huff, growing annoyed with his attitude. “And I’d rather you actually be able to look at me and focus on me,”

Jay doesn’t say anything, instead he rolls his eyes. Smudging the half burned joint into the ashtray in the center consul, Jay pulled into a random shopping center. He parked the car on the far end, away from all the shops and foot traffic under a large tree, providing a sense of privacy under the golden sunlight as the sun had begun its descent.

He shuts off the engine, taking off his seatbelt and shifting so he could face you the best the seats allowed. Jay leans against the car door, an arm lazily draped over the wheel while the other combed through his disarray of hair. You purse your lips, a small sigh escaping them as you pull a leg up to sit half crisscrossed, the angle providing you to face him fully in the passenger seat.

Your hands wring together, suddenly nervous for the one thing you actually came to say. You let out a breath, eyes searching for his own but he was looking the other way. His jawline prominent, gaze focused on the trees that brushed in the breeze instead of you.

“Do you still mean what you said?”

Jay pauses. You saw the smallest quirk in his expression, brows frowning as he turned to you lazily. “I didn’t say that on a whim Y/N, I wouldn’t play with you like that,”

“Well, I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure the last week didn’t change your mind,” You shrug, fumbling with the hem of your skirt.

“10 days,” Jay corrects. You wince, knowing exactly how long it’s been but the way you put it seemed better than the emphasis. “You haven’t talked to me since,”

“Neither did you?” Your voice raises an octave, growing defensive while Jay merely hums, a humorless chuckle leaving his lips.

“I told you, you decide where this goes,”

You have to refrain from the groan that wants to leave your lips. You were terrible at touchy-feely serious conversations, that was obvious enough. “I thought about it,” You start, words slow and filled with hesitance. He watched, eyes glued on you though you couldn’t manage to meet his gaze as you stared down at your lap. “I think we both have our faults—lack of communication, fear of commitment, a hard time expressing our actual feelings when things are serious,”

Jay snorts, seemingly already knowing the downsides you were pointing out but doesn’t interrupt.

“So, I think we should work on that,” You add, the words a jumbled mess. “I like you, I do, but I want us to know more about each other. Sex and weed can’t be the only thing that connects us. I want to know about you, without having to force it out. I want you to trust me with whatever personal turmoil you have. I want to be with you, but we can’t just get together and have everything be the same. A relationship to me is more than this, I would be the person who knows you best, the darkest parts of you unapologetically and vice versa,”

Jay doesn’t say anything for a while. When you finally looked up, his eyes held your own. They flickered, searching for what to say and you shifted, embarrassed by the vulnerability and feeling small. “Okay,” he finally utters. “So we should date? Like a proper couple would, I should pursue you? A restart on the dynamic we have, no more sex until I prove to you what I feel,”

“Well—” You stutter, eyes wide and shaking your head. “I didn’t say all that—”

“But you deserve more than what we have now,” Jay interrupts. His voice was steady, clearly already made up in his head while you falter. “I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t trust you, like I didn’t want you to actually know me. I’ll do better with that, but if this’ll work you have to allow me to prove it and trust that I mean it. I never wanted you for just pleasure Y/N, not since the start, it was more than that for me but I didn’t know how to show it,”

You nod, the smallest amount of blush forming on the apples of your cheeks. You were nervous, heartbeat thumping through your ears and you had to refrain from hiding behind your hands. “Okay,” You manage out, avoiding his gaze that had shifted from serious to amused in an instant.

Jay leaned closer, the act alone causing you to look the other way as you acted as if the parking lot was fascinating. “Y/N,” He hums, the feeling of his breath tickling the skin by your ear, significantly closer than you anticipated causing you to flinch. He laughs, the sound overwhelming the flutter in your stomach. Jay reaches over, his hand gently tugging your chin, forcing you to look at him but your eyes squeezed shut and you could feel your face grow hot. “Look at me,”

You shake your head. You could hear the smile in his words. In the months of you two together, not once had he ever seen you like this. You were confident, sure of yourself, and rightfully so but now you seemed so shy and embarrassed. Jay couldn’t help but laugh, heart warmed at the sight considering he was the one to make you giddy like you were kids.

“I know I said no more sex but does that apply to kissing too?” Your eyes snapped open at his words, Jay sporting the prettiest smile you’ve seen and you nearly melted at the sight.

“I never agreed to no sex,” You mumble, tilting your head up with a small pout. Your faces were inches apart, the surly tone in your voice not going unnoticed and Jay raised a brow.

“Yeah?” He mumbles, the heat of his breath tickling your lips while you nod. Jay, with his hand still placed delicately along your jaw, pulls you close enough so your lips grazed as he spoke. “Too bad baby, I have to do this right,”

Your protests were interrupted by his lips meeting your own. You practically melted against him, a hand tangling to the back of his head to pull him closer and you felt his smirk against your lips. The kiss was intense, enough to say the unspoken words between you and to make up for the frustration from the past week. Your lips parted, attempting to deepen the kiss but Jay hummed, pulling away but not before nipping your bottom lip, dragging it out for a moment and placing a final chaste kiss.

A small whine of disappointment left your mouth as you attempted to pull him back but Jay shook his head. His fingers brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, your eyes fluttering open to match the sight of his blown out pupils.

“No more,” He finally says, voice raspy but certain. You pout, shaking your head but Jay doesn’t allow you to get closer. “You have to be patient baby, no more,”

You huff, slumping back into the seat with your arms folded. “Fine,” You mutter, visibly bothered while Jay couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Glad to know you’ve been missin’ me,”

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“Remind me to stop lettin’ them get you high,” Jay mumbles under his breath, hands gripping your waist to keep you from practically jumping on him. You tsk, perched on your tippy toes to place a trail of sloppy kisses up his neck.

“S’not my fault,” You whine, words whispered in his ear. “You look good, and you’ve refused to let me do anything for the past month,” You add, pulling back enough for Jay to get a proper look at you. Lips pouted and swollen, eyes blinking up at him with a doe-y look, you knew exactly what you were doing.

“You get horny when you’re high,” Jay shakes his head, thumb trailing over your lip to fix the smudged gloss but you were quick to wrap your lips around his digit instead. He lets out a breathy laugh, in disbelief at your shameless nature as he takes a quick glance around. “We’re in public Y/N,”

“No one’s around,” You mutter, the words vibrating against his finger. “Let me make you feel good, we can go back to the car,”

“You’re fucking gross,” Jay tsks, though you noted the slight rasp to his words. He pulled his hand away, instead gripping your chin to connect your lips, the kiss hard, hungry and your teeth skimmed one another but you hummed in delight. Before it could proceed, Jay pulled away, pushing himself off the wall he was leant against with you following. “Behave,” He whispered in the shell of your ear, a chaste kiss placed to your temple as he pulled you along, forcing the two of you away from the hidden bathrooms you attempted to drag him to earlier.

You huff but follow without protest. His hand stayed steady against your lower back, protective and guiding through the now more crowded corridor as you made your way back to your seats. You glanced up at him every so often, still pouting over your umpteenth failed attempt. Jay had better self restraint than you thought, even if you had an obvious effect on him and it seemed physically painful to drag you off of him, he has.

You caught a glimpse of his neck, giggling at the sight of your shimmery kiss that stayed imprinted like a tattoo and he raised a brow, silently asking what was so funny but you didn’t elaborate.

The two of you reached the lower level, your friends spotted now all there and filled in their respective seats. Jake was the first to see you both, waving overly excitedly which caught the attention of the others.

At some point, between you and Jay’s agreement to actually attempt at a relationship, your friend groups have merged. Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki have come around more, no more snarky remarks, no more awkward conversations, but genuinely integrated with Heeseung, Jake, Sunghoon and Jay. Lara and Manon have come around too, it took a while—Jay jumping through hoops of admittedly unnecessary tests, before he got the stamp of approval to court you. There had only been one other time of your friends all coming together thus far, and today was in support of Sunghoon’s hockey game, newly promoted to team captain and Heeseung emphasized how you all had to embarrass him for his first game as captain with large neon poster papers with his face plastered to it.

Somehow, Sunghoon managed to get enough tickets for you all in the lower bowl. How he managed to get them all seated together, you had no idea but you were sure he was regretting it with Sunoo and Manon both holding up signs and screaming rather loudly to get his attention in the players bench where the team was doing their pregame talk.

Two rows your group claimed, five sitting in one and the other four directly in front. The two seats in the second row were left unoccupied beside Jake and Heeseung. “What took you guys so long?” Lara calls out over the sound of the crowd that was filling in the stadium by the second. You merely smiled, shimming past the two to your seat while Jay followed without a word.

You heard a gasp, looking back to Jungwon who pointed at Jay with a grimace. “You guys are sick,” He tuts, the rest who sat above following his gaze and each reacting similarly.

“What? What’re we looking at?” Jake suddenly butts in, peering past you over to Jay with his brows frowned.

You snicker, turning to your almost-boyfriend who smirked. He turned his head, allowing Jake and Heeseung a clear view of his neck and the trail of kisses from your assault on him earlier. Jake gapes, reaching over to give Jay a dap-up while you roll your eyes, smacking their arms away.

Heeseung shakes his head, leaning back in his seat like a disappointed father. “You bring shame to the Lee name,” You scoff, narrowing your eyes and leaning over Jake to smack Heeseung’s elbow off the armrest he was leant against.

“I know you’re not talking, we find you like a damn dog in heat every party,”

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“If he doesn’t fold tonight I think it’s a loss cause,” Lara whistles, arms folding across her front as she takes a once over your body. You smile, applying your gloss and meeting her eyes in the mirror of your vanity.

It was a rare opportunity, a new club opening up near campus and the group all agreeing to hit it together for the first time. With both Sunghoon and Riki’s birthday coming and going, it allowed for the youngest to finally tag along on a night out and an excuse for a celebration before the semester ended and the holidays occurred.

Two months, two months of (mainly) innocent touches, cheesy dates that would’ve made you nauseous thinking about last year, and Jay morphing into the most perfect man as if he were made specifically for you. Countless dates, a million acts of service, and sweet nothings—you were absolutely smitten.

You knew it was your doing, telling him to take things slow, that you wanted to get to know each other first before anything official. And he’s proven that, deep conversations in the middle of the night led to vulnerability, Jay even managing to let himself cry to you for the first time when he explained his family situation and how he started selling to ensure he had money to keep him enrolled in uni.

It was a waiting game at this point. You had no idea when, or how he’d ask, but all that was left for you was to wait for him to make the final move. You’ve mentioned it, and you’ve attempted to seduce him more than once, but he’s held off. You loved the new parts of him, the parts of him that no one else knew and you were thankful he took the time to allow you both to understand one another, but god did you miss him.

Months of the best sex you had gone in an instant was horrendous for your admittedly high libido. You didn’t know how much you depended on your beneficial relationship until then. Not to mention knowing Jay the way you did now only increased your feelings for him, you wanted him for him, not just because he was hot and packed eight inches.

So you dug through your closet, finding the skimpiest little black dress you had no business buying the second you became an adult. Far too short, fitting your curves like a second skin, and deep cut in the neckline that gave a pretty view of your perky tits that sat beautifully thanks to your trusty push up that never failed before.

It was the middle of December, you truly should not be wearing that in the midst of winter and it was obvious enough what your motive was. You didn’t care, entirely shameless and excusing the lack of covering on your body with a large, thick, leather jacket and leg warmers that matched your chunky platforms. You wouldn’t be outside long either, inside the car and club would be warm enough.

Your skin glistened under the low lighting in your room, courtesy of the body shimmer Manon brought over, and your hair cascaded down in a half-up do that Jay has complimented more than once. Your make up was equally stunning, you letting a small sigh out of content as you stood, the jewelry you slipped on earlier adding a nice addition to your outfit and exposed skin.

You gave yourself a once over in your floor length mirror, spraying your signature perfume over your heat points before smiling.

“Oh yeah, he’s done for,” Manon states matter-of-factly, coming back from the bathroom where she finished getting ready. She stood beside Lara in the doorway, both dressed up as well but it was obvious you made an emphasis on your appearance for the night. “If he doesn’t fuck you tonight, call me instead,”

“Me too,” Lara adds, the three of you falling into a fit of giggles complimenting one another. You grabbed your small clutch, the other two mirroring your actions and gathering their things for the night out.

“Ladies, are you ready?!” Heeseung’s loud voice boomed through the walls, his footsteps sounding from his room that he had been cooped up in getting ready himself.

“Yes!” The three of your voices mixed in response, another round of giggles at the mimic while you heard the front door open followed by Jake’s loud voice. You heard a series of footsteps, far too many and male voices mixing together, presumably all the guys filing into your small living room on time.

Heeseung pops his head into your bedroom door. “Okay everyone’s here let’s—” He trails off upon seeing your outfit, you smiling innocently while he frowns his brows. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“A dress,” You state matter-of-factly. Heeseung scoffs, turning to Lara and Manon who looked the opposite way, knowing well enough he would’ve had a problem with it considering the first time you moved here and attempted at a girls night out in that very dress, he forced you to change.

“You’re wearing a piece of fabric Y/N,” He scolds, visibly uncomfortable with the little coverage on your body while you roll your eyes.

“My ass isn’t out and my tits are covered?” You point out, doing a spin to show, although rather short, the dress still covered enough. “We’re going to a club Hee, with a mob of guys including you, I’ll be fine,”

“You’re going to get us in a fight,” Heeseung shakes his head. “You’re going to get Jay in a fight,” He adds, the thought suddenly popping in his head and you see the way he perked up. “Jongseong, come here and look at what your girlfriend’s trying to wear!”

You scoff, arms folding across your front like a child ready to throw a tantrum but it only draws more attention to the swell of your breasts. Heeseung, being the ever dramatic, gags as he holds a hand up, not wanting to look at anything aside from your face.

“Why would you two let her put this on?” He asks Manon and Lara who shared a look before shrugging.

“She’s grown,” Manon says simply. Lara nods, giving you an apologetic wince as you could hear a set of footsteps echo through the apartment with Jay stepping into view.

“What’re you talking about?” He asks before reaching the doorway. His eyes pick up, immediately falling on you and doing a long trail over your figure. You shift, feeling shy all of a sudden compared to your previous confidence with everyone else, you noted the shift in Jay’s eyes before they met yours, his irises darker than before but he shakes his head. “What’s this?”

“A dress?” You repeat, although significantly less certain this time.

“A hot dress,” Lara interjects, attempting to help you save face and not give in to changing.

“She’s covered, she’s grown,” Manon nods. “Her man will be there along with a group of idiotic guys and us, who will kick anyone’s ass for touching her. Let her wear what she wants, it’s the 21st century! Just cause she has a fat ass and tits doesn’t mean she can’t wear tight clothes and people should know revealing outfits doesn’t give consent so we’ll just start a brawl if anything,” She says the words so simply, leaving no room for discussion.

You nod, thankful for your friends who had your back. Your motive was for Jay specifically, and you knew he wouldn’t let you out of his grasp anyway, but it was nice to hear reassurance.

Heeseung sighs, turning toward Jay giving him the final say. You held his gaze, his expression unreadable but you didn’t waver under the intensity. Finally, he nods, it barely noticeable but you break out into a smile.

“Perfect,” You grin, grabbing your clutch and the jacket from your bed. Manon and Lara giggle, leading the way out of your room with Heeseung rolling his eyes but guiding the group to where the others were waiting. You step out of the doorway, Jay quick to grab your waist and drag you against him.

“You’re playing dirty,” He grumbles, the words whispered against your ear while you hum.

“Not my fault you have a pretty girlfriend,” You shrug, pulling away enough to glance at his features.

Jay raises a brow. “Girlfriend?”

“Ah, right,” You tut, hand reaching up to gently pat his cheek. “Sorry, you have no actual claim on me so hopefully I don’t get too much attention later,” You say with a faux pout, stepping out of his grasp but you hear the scoff that came from Jay.

“If you keep talking shit like that we won’t end up going,” He mumbles, hand falling to your waist but not allowing you any time to respond as he guides you to the living room where the rest filled. You bit back the cheeky smile that wanted to fall upon your lips, the click of your heels gaining everyone’s attention as they were waiting on the two of you.

“Okay good! Everyone take a pregame shot together,” Jake calls out from the kitchen island, the open floor plan showing everyone huddled around him with shot glasses already filled. You felt the pairs of eyes settle on you, Jay unamused as you felt his grip on your hip tightens while he pulls you closer.

“You get two seconds to stop staring,” He calls out, voice low as he watches the pairs of eyes flicker up and around awkwardly, finding anything else to stare at. “Don’t piss me off, I know she looks good but you know better,”

Manon whistles, clapping in delight at Jay’s warning. Lara laughs along with her, Heeseung rolling his eyes and grimacing at the thought of all his friends finding his little cousin attractive. You place a hand to Jay’s chest, reassuring him it was fine.

You clear your throat, stepping to the island and grabbing the two unclaimed shot glasses in front of Jake. Holding one to Jay, you smiled at the group, clearing the uncomfortable air.

“Shots?”

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God, he should’ve made you change. It was bad enough Jay was barely managing himself as it was, but that little black dress that clung to your skin was impossible to ignore. The past hour you’ve been here, you’ve had more than a handful of eyes on you and the ego boost Jay got every time you clung to him did wonders but with the more alcohol that entered your system, the more bold you got.

You were tipsy by the time you reached the club, the pregame shots doing its job in making you feel a buzz. The fruity cocktail you had him order you along with the rounds of shots Heeseung and Jake ordered, setting you over what was the typical amount you drank.

And just like with weed, you were horny when drunk—specifically when Jay was in the vicinity. You had been dancing, a messy group of you, Manon, and Lara. Heeseung and Jake were there with your trio, but the eldest long forgotten after he found a girl for the night and Jake came back to the bar to order another drink.

Each time you returned to the claimed table your group had, you grew closer and closer to Jay. Your hands lingered, the kisses you placed going from his lips to his neck. The last time you came for a sip of your melting Mai Tai, your hand grazed over his pants, feeling his dick that reacted embarrassingly fast to your touch. You sipped from the straw innocently, even engaging in conversation with Sunoo and Riki as if you weren’t attempting to pump him under the table before you disappeared back into the crowd with Manon and Lara at your sides.

Sunghoon nudged Jay’s shoulder, beer in hand that he had been nursing since they first got here as he nodded in your direction. “You guys together yet?” He asks over the blaring music.

Jay, flickering his gaze from you for a second to glance at him, shook his head slightly. He reached for his own glass, taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid with a scrunch of his nose. “Not yet,”

Sunghoon whistles, his eyes scanning over the packed club floor for a moment. “She still need more time?”

“Haven’t asked,” Jay shrugs, the words causing Sunghoon to give him a confused look. “What?”

“Why not?” He laughs. “You guys still not having sex too? Is that why she’s all dressed up and trying to climb on top of you tonight?” Jay rolls his eyes, giving Sunghoon a warning look who merely holds his hands up showing no harm. “I’m just sayin’ man, you know she’s fine, she knows she’s fine. You need to get on that before she gets bored of waiting and finds someone else to mess with,”

“She’s the one who told me to take it slow,” Jay scoffs, suddenly defensive over your relationship as his eyes locked on you in the crowd.

“And you have,” Sunghoon agrees. “You’ve done the cute dating bullshit for the past two months, you’ve opened up to her about everything. You two seem pretty damn close so why not make it official? I’m tired of you taking hour long showers beating your dick everyday, we have one bathroom and too many people in the house,”

“It’s me, you, and Jake,” Jay snickers, finding Sunghoon’s dramatics amusing while the slightly younger of the two nods in emphasis.

“You two keep wasting all of the hot water! Jake has always taken forever but you? I know what you’re doing you sick fuck,” Jay snorts, unable to keep his laughter from bubbling over while Sunghoon lightly shoves his shoulder. “I’m serious. You’re definitely happier now too but you’re still an asshole sometimes. I think the blueballs are getting to you,”

Jay merely nods, not bothering with a defense as his eyes stay glued to your figure. Manon and Lara were dancing, bodies pressed together as Lara was rolling her hips onto Manon to the beat of the song, you yelling in delight giggling at your friends. Your hips swayed along to the music, albeit a bit sloppy due to how much alcohol you had in your system but you were having the time of your life.

Until a random guy suddenly came up to your left, far too close for comfort and you stepped to the side, still in your own little world believing he wanted to dance near you not on you. Manon was quick to catch it, pulling Lara up and Jay watched as the girls pulled you close, away from the unknown man between them. He spoke, Lara frowning her brows and holding up at hand to keep distance.

Aside from Heeseung who had disappeared not long ago, the rest of the guys sat at the table, conversing and watching the nightlife as well as you three in their direct sight. Sunoo leaned across the table, brows frowned as he looked to Jay to ensure he was seeing what they were.

He was, eyes zeroed in on the back of the guy's head but not moving quite yet. You were having fun, still unaware as you danced and Manon and Lara did good at keeping you guarded. If the man walked away, there would be no need for Jay to step in.

“Hyung?” Jungwon says carefully, brows frowning seeing Manon begin to argue with the man.

“The fuck is he doing?” Jake scoffed, words slightly slurred as he pulled himself up. Jay shook his head, standing as well to make his way over. Sunghoon followed, the most level headed as he wasn’t nearly as drunk as Jake and although he’d defend his friends for anything, it wasn’t nearly the same as it was for Jay protecting you.

The youngest three stayed at the table, keeping watch of your belongings but also ready to step in if need be. Riki shook his head, Sunoo’s brows pinched together worriedly, and Jungwon scanned to see if Heeseung was anywhere near.

Jay was bad enough, Heeseung would only add to it as he tended to be irrational when it came to you, especially while drunk.

“Get the fuck away,” Manon’s voice pulled you out of the daze you were in. You frowned, vision slightly blurry as you turned, hyperaware of the fact that you were sandwiched between your two friends though no one was happy and carefree anymore.

“She’s good,” Lara repeats, hand still up creating distance with the unfamiliar man who stood a mere foot away.

“She’s been dancing alone, I can keep her company while you two dance,” The guy offers, an innocent smile on his lips but you frown.

“She has a man,” Manon emphasizes. “She’s fine dancing with us, go away,”

“Why’s she here by herself then?” The guy snickers, looking around for anyone that would’ve been paying attention to you three. The people around you paid no mind, far too drunk and in their own groups to notice the hostility forming. “C’mon, she’s wearing a dress like that here by herself? She wants company,”

“What I’m wearing has nothing to do with you?” You scoff. Lara was quick to grab your arm, a notorious reputation in the Lee family was to pick fights when intoxicated. There’s been less than a handful of times where you actually tried to fight someone bigger than you at parties, typically when a guy was making someone else uncomfortable. “I don’t fucking know you, go away,”

“I’m just trying to have fun baby, don’t act like that,” The man’s tone changed when talking to you, appearing genuine but you rolled your eyes with visible disgust.

“Jay!” You call out, pushing out of the barrier Manon and Lara had on you. You go to move past the guy, certain that the table he’d be at was straight ahead but you’re stopped once the unfamiliar creep grabs you. “Are you fucking dumb? Get off of me!”

Manon and Lara were yelling as well, your elbow flying into the man’s face as you flailed in his hold, the hit to his nose enough for him to stumble. You didn’t have time to turn around and hit him like you anticipated, instead you felt a different pair of hands pull you back. You nearly began to yell again but you turned to see Sunghoon, his hands holding you in place by your shoulders but his eyes were focused ahead.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You heard Jake’s voice over the music. He stood in front of Manon and Lara, shoving the guy back another few steps. Jay stood in front of you, blocking your view but you could see the stiff positioning of his shoulders. “They told you to get lost and you think grabbing her is the answer?”

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy shoots back, hand holding his nose before pressing the damp blood that came from his nostril. “That bitch hit me!”

“No shit,” Jay scoffs, voice dangerously low and humorless through his dry laughter. “Your fucking lucky she’s the one who did it,” He spits while the man takes a second, eyes narrowing at Jay as he analyzed his features longer than necessary.

“Ay, hold on,” He laughs, holding up his hands to show no harm. “You’re Jay, aren’t you? You sell right? Man I haven’t seen you in a while,” The last part was quieter than the rest, the words causing Jay to roll his eyes before it clicked in realization. “That your girl? She’s strong man,”

“What’d I tell you last time Rinu?” Jay lets out an exasperated sigh. “You owe me money, and now you hit my girl? You’re begging like a bitch for me to do something,”

“I didn’t hit her,” Rinu corrects. “I didn’t know she was your girl either, she’s wearing that dress and been looking at me all night so—”

“In your fucking dreams,” You laugh, throughly baffled by his attempt to spin the blame on you. “You’re a fucking pervert who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer,”

Jay turns his head, catching a glimpse of you who struggled in Sunghoon’s grasp, standing on your tippy toes to throw insults over his figure that blocked your sight. He smirks, a hand held out for you to take and Sunghoon lets you leave his side. Jay sighs, his arm slithering around your waist and you fit perfectly into him, his hand holding you tight knowing you could pounce any second to attempt another swing.

“I’ll let your brother know,” Jay nods, the words causing Rinu’s previous smug expression to drain from his face. “I’m sure he’d be happy to handle it for me,”

“Jay, man, come on—”

“One of you wanna walk him out?” Jay interrupts, the words spoken to Sunghoon and Jake who nod in response. Sunghoon moved first, pushing Rinu forward without a word, shoving him through the crowd with Jake tagging along happily, practically bouncing on his feet to talk shit and ensure the club security knew to not let him in again.

“That was fucked up,” Manon huffs, hands running over her hair to straighten out any loose strands.

Lara nods with a sigh. “You need to stop fighting people,” She scolds, pointing a finger at you as you send them an apologetic smile.

“I knew the guys would handle it,” You defend meekly but know well enough your temper gets the best of you at times. “I’m sorry, thank you for defending me at first though. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer,”

“Yeah weirdo,” Manon scoffs. “Who was that guy?” The question was directed to Jay who still had you pulled flush against him.

“His brother used to buy from me a lot, I sold to him a few times but he started flaking on the money. I stopped selling to both of them because of it but he’s scared shitless of his brother. You can imagine how me telling him I wouldn’t sell to him because of Rinu went for them,” Jay shrugs, the old memories of him first selling popping in his head.

“Right, well hopefully his brother fucks him up then,” You mutter bitterly. You wrap your arms around yourself, the outfit you picked suddenly not as comfortable as before causing you to shy away.

The three noticed, Lara holding out her hand to give yours a squeeze. “C’mon, let’s take a break and drink a little more. Fucker ruined my buzz,”

Manon hums in agreement, the two leading the way back to the table where the last three of your group waited, practically buzzing to hear the context of what happened. Jay held you close against him, hands resting on your hips as the two of you shimmed through the crowd.

Just before you reached the table, he pulled you back and placed a lingering kiss on your shoulder. “I’m sorry he touched you,”

You pout, spinning around to face Jay as your hands cup his cheeks. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong,” You reassure, leaning up to place a kiss to his lips. “You guys came in time and we’re fine, let’s not let that ruin the night, okay?”

His eyes closed for a moment, basking in the feeling of your soft hands that caressed his skin. Almost instantly, the simmering anger that stayed beneath the surface began to subside, Jay letting out a breath and his head moved to place a kiss to your palm. “Stay with me for the rest of the night, yeah?”

You smile, nodding along with a little giggle escaping your lips. “You gonna show me your dance moves then, pretty boy?”

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“I’ve decided on my New Year’s resolution!” You grin, your voice carrying through the empty apartment as you waltz into the kitchen. Jay hummed, back turned to you as he stood at the stove, the delectable aroma filling your senses and you nearly went back on your word at the sight of him.

Loose pajama pants hung low on his hips, a black tank top allowed for a view of his arms and shoulders that flexed as he moved. To top it off, the messy bed head and apron over his clothes were disgustingly adorable.

“What’s that, love?” Jay calls back, not expecting you to be standing at the kitchen island so he jumps as he turns around. You smile, leant over the counter and your hair still wet from the shower you just had. The large white t-shirt you borrowed from him was damp in the areas where you pulled your hair forward, the areas see through to your breasts as you wore nothing underneath and he had to force himself to look in your eyes. The new jewelry of your piercings were cute, dazzling hearts on either side of your nipples that poked out beneath the material.

“I’ve decided,” You start, walking around the island to reach him by the stove. Jay nearly dropped to his feet, a dangerous outfit you were wearing as he shared his apartment with Sunghoon and Jake but you were told they wouldn’t be home til the afternoon. The only thing he knew you were wearing was his shirt, he prayed you weren’t cruel enough to walk through his house without your panties as well. “I’m gonna respect myself, no more messing with boys unless we’re in a committed relationship,” Jay paused, eyes narrowing at you who stood with a cheeky smile. “No more kisses, no more touching, and no more sleepovers. I’m off limits until I’m off the market starting right now,”

Jay scoffs in disbelief, turning to shut off the stove, interrupting the breakfast he was amidst making for you. Two weeks ago after the club night out, sleepovers had become a regular routine for the two of you. Nothing went further than the deep make-out sessions and dry humping that forced Jay to lock himself in the bathroom like some loser teenager. He was planning out the way to ask, waiting for the holidays to end to form an anniversary date that wouldn’t share the busy season in the future.

But you, it seems, couldn’t wait another few days. Practically forcing his hand with the no kissing no touching rules, those being his saving grace to keep himself grounded thus far. It would be impossible, especially tonight at the New Year’s Eve party you’d all be attending and the outfit he helped you pick out.

It was cruel, a low blow, but Jay had to give it to you for knowing what you want. He pulled the apron over his head, tossing it onto the counter and taking a step closer to you who still stood with the same cheeky expression, arms folded across your front and ensuring he saw the swell of your tits through the material.

“You know, I had a whole date planned,” Jay starts, you humming as a pathetic attempt to seem sad for him. He corners you against the island, arms trapping you on either side of the marble top but not close enough to touch you. “January 4th,” He sighs, tilting his head with a faux pout. “Day trip, I was gonna take you out to the beach, we’d have a picnic. I even had a necklace ready to give you and a flower order placed. Few days away from the holidays, far enough from anyone’s birthday so I’d be able to spoil you with trips for our anniversary,”

Your resolve falters hearing his words. Your lips part, unable to come up with a proper response hearing his play-by-play and how much thought he put into the day that was quite literally a dream for you. Jay tsks, eyes holding your own with no sense of remorse, instead they were amused, practically egging you on to take back your words.

“This’ll be a funny story to tell our kids, December 31st is our anniversary ‘cause your mom couldn’t wait anymore, forced my hand in asking her in my shitty college apartment,” He mimics, a snort leaving his lips at the hypothetical while your heart picks up at the mention of Jay banking on the long term with you. “You can’t say no now, tell me you’re mine and I’ll give you what you want since you’re so desperate you had to find a way to make me ruin all our plans,”

His voice was low, head dipped dangerously close to yours but he still wasn’t touching. His body invaded your space, almost suffocating but he respected your rule. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, head tilting to feel his lips against your own but Jay clicks his tongue.

“Tell me we’re together, Y/N,” Jay hums, words raspy and practically mumbled into your mouth but he stayed far enough away to ensure they didn’t quite touch.

“Jay please,” You force out, the whine in your voice almost pornographic and your thighs squeezed together where you stood. “We can do your plan on the fourth, call it our actual anniversary but I need you,” You beg, arms trailing up and falling to his neck. You attempted to pull him closer, to reach up for a kiss but Jay stayed steady. “Please baby, it’s too much. It’s been too long, I miss you—I need you, I know you want me too so please,”

Your attempt at getting him to fold first failed. Exceptionally so but your cloudy judgment refused to let you acknowledge how utterly fucked out you sounded already, something he’d be sure to tease you about later but you didn’t care. You leaned up, straining on your tippy toes to begin a sloppy trail up his neck, sucking at a particular spot below his ear you remember being his favorite. One of your hands trailed down, grazing over the indentation of his muscles, each flexing at your touch until you reached his pants. You paused at the waistband, palm trailing down and you moaned at the feeling of his fully hard cock that was strained in the material.

You peered up at him, hand working through the pajama pants and lips pouted. “Please? Let me make you feel good Jjongie,”

He would’ve been insane to say no. Park Jongseong put up a good fight but the morality he had for your relationship was out the window as soon as you looked up at him. Months, three months he lasted, countless cold showers and growing nearly desensitized to the feeling of his own hand led to this.

“You’re such a slut sometimes,” Jay finally says, the words an insult but you grinned. One of his hands pushed you down to your knees, the other ridding his pants and underwear at once, his erect length smacking against his torso. “You missed my dick that much? Making you act dumb for it?”

You didn’t respond, eyes fixated on his pretty pink tip that was begging for a release. Jay pulled you up, shifting so you sat on his foot and he nearly laughed at the lack of underwear you had on. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, suddenly shy but he shook his head.

“C’mere,” Jay mumbles, a hand on the back of your head while the other guides his cock into your mouth. You licked a long strip up his shaft, tongue swirling around the head before spitting extra spit on it. You peered up at him, a smirk on his lips with heavy breaths heaving his chest. You opened your mouth, taking in his girth and you gave yourself a second to adjust but Jay had other plans.

His hips jutted forward, pushing himself deep down your throat without warning and your eyes snapped shut. He pulled back, a hand gently caressing your cheek. “You okay, pretty?”

You nod, a slight soreness beginning in the back of your throat but you loved the way he was handling you. This is what you wanted, to show how eager you were to please and for Jay to use you as he wished. Three long, bullshit months without his dick was hell, you hoped it’d never happen again.

You open your mouth, one of your hands gripping the base of his shaft as you begin to take him in again. You moved up and down, a slow but deliberate pace which allowed you to take him deeper each time. He smiled, head lulling back remembering your lack of a gag reflex as he reached the back of your throat, your cheeks hallowing and staying put for a second on your own accord.

Once you pulled out you spit the excess saliva onto his shaft, your hand pumping up and down creating a slobbery mess along his thighs as well as your chin. “Good job baby, makin’ me feel good with that pretty little mouth,” He praises, the hand on the back of your head having a light hold on your hair. He shoved his dick back into your mouth, guiding you back and forth at a pace he enjoyed and you hallowed out your cheeks, allowing for his hips to move in sync and fuck your mouth. He pressed himself all the way down, your eyes stinging with tears at the feeling of his tip pushed down your throat that clenched unintentionally.

He pulled out, a small pop sounding at suck you had on his tip. You felt him twitch, your lips quirking with a smirk knowing well enough it would be easy to get him to cum, his pent up frustration easy to unfold. You stared up at him, eyes doe-y and wide, lashes fluttering and a beautiful mess of spit that glistened from your lips and chin. You sat beneath him, back arched and shirt hiked up so he got a perfect view of your ass and pushed up tits through the still see-through shirt.

Jay doesn’t say a word, instead his arms hook around your waist and he pulls you up with ease. You yelp in surprise, the cool marble countertop causing goosebumps to arise on your skin while you stare at Jay with the same look. He leans over, a trail of kisses starting from your ankle, working his way up to your inner thigh.

“Jay,” You squirm, his series of open mouth kisses creating a circle around your heat. “Stop teasing,” You pout, hips bucking as he used one hand to push them back down.

He tsks, eyes flickering up to meet your own before placing a kiss to the top of your vulva. A loud gasp leaves your lips, head falling back but growing frustrated as he moves back to your thighs. “You’re so needy,” He hums, breath fanning against your lips as one of his fingers skims over your center. A laugh leaves his lips as reaches your hole, the collection of arousal drenching the digit enough for him to slip it in with ease.

“Oh my—” A loud moan escaped your lips, hips rolling, feeling his finger curl, the size of his hands much larger than yours and doing so much more than you ever could. Your pussy clenches around him, a measly finger enough to make you a mess and he can’t help but smirk at the sight of you pulling him in. “Fuck, fuck, please. More Jjong, please,”

Jay licks a strip up your folds, finger still inside and pumping in and out slowly. Your moans fill the room, his tongue flattening against your core, flicking up and down your clit as if he were starved. He hums against you, the vibration causing your hips to buck and legs clench, Jay forcibly holding your legs down to continue. He was good, one of the only guys to make you cum on his tongue before, but something about the desperation he was giving was intoxicating. His finger fluttered in and out of you, a second added in the mix while he practically made out with your clit. Licking, sucking, listening to your reactions and curling his fingers hitting just the right spot.

“Oh fuck,” You rush out, hands finding his hair and tangling through the strands. “Oh my god, baby, please don’t stop,” Your hips bucked, moving in sync with his mouth that refused to come up for a breath of air. His nose nudged against your clit every so often, tongue swirling up and down with his fingers pumping in you at an overwhelming rate. A loud moan escaped your lips, your walls clenching around his digits and Jay continued to lick your clit slowly, ensuring your orgasm road out as long as it could as your legs closed due to the sensitivity.

When he finally pulled away, the bottom portion of his face was wet with your slick. He gently pulls his fingers out of you, making sure to suck the drops of you clean before he stood up. Your eyes met his own, pupils blown out and heavy breaths filling the space between you.

“You okay?” He asks softly, leaning over your body and placing a kiss to your lips. You hum against him, tongue swiping against his own and you felt his smile. “Good, we’re not done yet,” He mumbles, the feeling of his shaft swiping up your slick folds causing you to gasp. He smears the precum off his tip, giving his dick a few pumps as he grazes the tip against your pussy.

“You’re so pretty baby,” Jay praises, one hand squeezing your hip while the other guides his tip to your hole. Gasps left each other's lips, your eyes half-lidded as you stared up at him. His hips push forward, pushing himself further into you at a dangerously slow pace. Your pussy clenches around him all the way until he bottoms out, stilling for a moment to gain his composure. “Fuuck, I’ve missed you,” He mumbles, head tilting back and eyes shut in pleasure.

Your moans fill the air between you, your hips moving to create some type of friction causing him to hiss. “H-hold on baby,” Jay stutters, eyes still shut and you see the way he forced himself to hold back. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, your hand trailing down his prominent muscles with a pout. “I haven’t felt you in a while, gonna make me cum too fast,” He explains in a hushed voice, gaze meeting your own and noting the smirk that picked up on your lips.

“Guess you’ll just have to give me more than one then,”

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Three rounds. Three you managed in under two hours. One in the kitchen, one in the bedroom, and one in the shower attempting to clean up from the other two. It was a record for the both of you, the urgency due to how pent up you both were along with the fact you wanted to finish before either Jake or Sunghoon had come home.

Jay had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when the pair walked in. The two complained about the windows having been opened in the midst of winter but Jay snorted back stating it was either be cold or them coming home to the smell of sex.

There was a series of yells, disgusted by the fact that the two of you fucked somewhere in the shared space before shifting to thanks of a higher being for Jay getting pussy for the first time in months. Jake had personally come to thank you, wishing you a happy sex life so his best friend wouldn’t be a “pent up prick all the time.” The conversation then shifted to congratulations on your relationship, genuinely happy for the two of you and boasting that they were the first to know but you shut them down before they could text the group chat and wreck havoc.

Jay explained, with minimal details, that your anniversary would technically be the fourth. Sunghoon snorted at the fact that you both were too horny to wait but also stated how utterly stupid it was to wait until you were a couple in the first place considering you had been fucking for a long time prior.

Now here you were, sitting in the passenger seat comfortably lacing your fingers with Jay’s who drove. Meanwhile, Manon, Lara, and Sunoo were crammed in the back. The other half of your group crammed in Sunghoon’s car—though Jungwon volunteered himself as the DD so he drove for the night.

“You guys make me sick,” Manon huffs, tossing the empty water bottle she had been hydrating with in your direction.

You sent her an innocent smile, tossing the bottle back as Sunoo and Lara laugh at the sight. You hear Jay’s chuckle, his eyes flickering from the rear view mirror to see Manon’s finger flick you off but you paid her no mind. You smiled at him, this time genuine and he spared you a glance as you rolled to a spotlight. He peered to the backseat, a smirk forming on his lips before leaning in, placing a chaste kiss to your lips earning a series of grumbles and gags from the back.

You looked to the front, the light still red and you took the opportunity to pull Jay back. You connect your lips once more, his smile felt against your lips and your free hand holding up the middle finger in response to your friends who groaned with dramatics.

He pulled away as the light flickered green, instead lacing your hand with his own and placing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Sick!” Manon huffs.

“Wait, when’d you get this bracelet?” Sunoo suddenly asks, pointing to you and Jay’s interlocked hands, the dazzling sparkle of your newly gifted tennis bracelet shining in the nightlight.

Lara hums, patting Sunoo’s shoulder. “I forget you went home for Christmas,” She giggles, wiggling her brows suggestively. “It was her present from Jay,”

“Along with a Prada bag and a gazillion new make up items,” Manon snorts, you sticking her tongue out at her which she mirrors.

“I also got her lingerie,” Jay adds nonchalantly. You gape, smacking his shoulder while he laughs. Lara gasps, the final gift being unknown while Sunoo cringes.

“Was it cute?” Manon asks and you nod.

“Hot,” You smirk. “I’ll show you guys later, it’s comfortable too,”

Jay whips his head at the mention of you sharing his outfit choice. You giggle, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly while the girls snicker from the back.

“Sorry Jay, before you there was us. We got all the nudes and pre-approved them,” Lara shrugs.

“I literally pierced her nipples,” Manon snorts. “You’re welcome for that by the way,” Your eyes widened, Sunoo choking on his spit in the corner where he sat.

Jay stiffened, sparing you a glance while you fumble for your words. “Manon!” Was the best you could come up with, voice an octave higher and Lara laughing from her seat in the middle.

Manon pauses, turning to Sunoo and wincing. “Sorry?” She offers. “I forgot not everyone here has seen you naked, my bad,”

“Naked?” Jay interjects.

Lara sighs, patting his shoulder with a shake of her head. “We’re girls Jongseong, this is normal, don’t take it personal,”

Manon hums in agreement, you smiling sheepishly as he glances at you. You shrug, pulling his hand closer toward your chest.

Sunoo, now knowing far too much information about the three of you, wished he switched places with Riki earlier. Jay doesn’t say anything for a moment, stiff silence falling over the car before he smirks.

“Good job on the piercings,”

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“Do I have to piss on your leg like a dog or what?” Jay scoffs, allowing you to drag him away from the random guy who attempted on hitting on you after he disappeared to the bathroom for two minutes. You snort, shaking your head and guiding your way through the sea of people.

There was a surprising amount at the frat party. You would’ve assumed most would’ve been home for the break, but that didn’t stop the house from being filled to the brim and everyone packed in like sardines. Loud music blared throughout, the sound traveling to the backyard where your seats were left.

Jungwon, Riki, and Sunghoon sat in the far corner around the fire-pit that was claimed early on in the night. You and Jay being the only couple, choosing to shy away from the crowd inside, were joined by each due to their introverted nature or simply because they didn’t want to deal with the scene inside.

You made your way back, settling into your seat, well Jay’s even though you had your own but he refused to have you anywhere aside from his lap. You were covered up, outfit certainly more acceptable for the cold weather and snuggled into his embrace. You felt him shift beneath you, a familiar baggy being pulled from his jacket causing you to raise a brow.

“I said I’d stop selling this new year, not smoking,” Jay winks, placing a kiss on your temple as you roll your eyes. The lighter igniting caught everyone’s attention, Jay helping you start with the first puff, the smoke filling your senses with a deep inhale. Jay lifted his gaze, glancing over at Jungwon and Riki. “You guys smoke?” He asks as he takes a hit of his own, passing the joint to Sunghoon.

Jungwon shakes his head, Riki holds up his puff bar instead that he pulled from his pocket. Your eyes light up, seeing the pretty light pink vape and Jay shakes his head knowing you were enticed by the color. “What flavor is that?”

“Peach-guava,” Riki answers, rolling his eyes at Jungwon who snorted at the fruity flavor. He passed the bar to Sunghoon, who exchanged the joint to him before handing it over.

You grin, taking a deep inhale and instantly feeling the smoke flood your senses. The fruity smell mixed with the flower, Riki taking his first hit from the joint with a cough immediately leaving his lips. Sunghoon hold out his half empty water bottle to the youngest, you blowing out a long puff of air directly in Jay’s face as he grimaced.

You giggle, enjoying the flavored air and hold the vape for Jay to try. Him shaking his head, gently pulling the puff bar from your hands to make its way back to Riki. “I don’t like nic,” Jay mumbles, scrunching his nose at the fruity air that still lingered.

“Baby,” You tease, sticking out your tongue while Jay rolls his eyes.

“Shits nasty,” He says simply. “It’s worse for you too,”

“Oh and smoking weed like a habit isn’t?” You snort.

“It’s not as bad as long as you’re not addicted,” Sunghoon chips in, taking a long drag from the joint before it finally reaches you and Jay. You pout with a small huff. Jay smiles, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer.

He lifted the spliff to his lips, taking an inhale before leaning up, his lips ghosting against your own to exhale the smoke in your mouth. You smile, connecting your lips fully as Jay hums against you.

“Gross,” Jungwon boos, Sunghoon and Riki chuckling at the sight of you two.

“Shut up man,” Jay teases, lifting the joint to your lips for a puff. You oblige, maintaining the eye contact that Jay forced himself to break, swallowing hard causing you to smile.

You placed a chaste kiss to the shell of his ear. “Another round before the new year?”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · ─ ·✶ ─ · ·

“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty,” Jay groans, feeling your slick against him as you grind your hips down on his shaft. The two of you managed to slip away from the others twenty minutes ago, giving yourself thirty minutes before midnight when they’d be sure to come looking for you.

Perched in the backseats of Jay’s car, you had just pulled yourself up from giving him head. Your legs wrapped around his waist, you naked aside from your panties that were pulled to the side while Jay still had his shirt on and pants pooled down at his ankles.

Jay, ever the courteous, was kind enough to lay down a spare blanket he had tucked away in the trunk months ago after a day trip to the beach with the guys, considerate of your friends who would be making their way home with you later on.

His hands trail up your skin, the dim lighting from the street lamp being the only illumination in the car parked along the quiet street aside from the frat house in full swing. Jay pulled you closer, arm wrapped around your waist and shifted so he was able to take one of your nipples in between his lips. Your head lulled back, humming in delight feeling his tongue swipe against the cool metal bar, toying with your piercing and his other hand gently rolled the other nub between his finger tips.

You lifted your weight off his lap momentarily, hand falling to his hard shaft and guiding the tip between your lips. You smile, feeling him hum against you, the pool of arousal between your legs more than enough lubricant as you slowly inched down on his dick. Breathy moans fill the air, your eyes pinching shut at the fullness and Jay’s grip on your hips tightening. You stilled as you bottomed out, allowing you both a second to settle at the feeling of his cock buried all the way inside you.

Your hips rocked, slowly at first. The curve of his dick hitting just right, tip kissing your cervix and clit rubbing against his pelvis creating more friction. You couldn’t remember the last time you rode him, making a mental note to do so more often and Jay’s half lidded eyes stayed focused on you. His hands stay put on your waist, guiding you back and forth, encouraging you to move against him at a consistent pace.

You felt him twitch, your eyes opening to see Jay fixated on your stomach. You roll your hips, moaning at the feeling but Jay presses his palm against your lower abdomen, the feeling causing the fullness of his dick to increase.

“Oh fuck,” He breathes out. “I’m all the way in you, huh?” He smirks, the belly bulge something new he hadn’t seen before and couldn’t help but boost his ego at the sight.

You let out a breathy laugh, lifting your hips slightly before pushing back down. Jay moans, the sight of him filling you euphoric, his hands helping guide you up and down, slow at first, deliberate with each stroke before his hips began to meet you halfway. The lewd noises of your skin hitting filled the car, the wetness between you heard, your arousal dampening your thighs.

“Jay,” You moan, tits bouncing along to each stroke, palms pressed to his chest, nails digging into his skin with the recoil of your ass hitting his hips. “Feels so deep,” You add, words mumbled together in a jumbled mess.

A phone rings through the hot air between you. A groan leaving your lips as you fumbled behind your back, picking up the buzzing phone without a glance at the screen for Jay to answer. You stopped bouncing on his dick, giving yourself a small break as he held the device up to his ear.

“What’s up?” Jay asks without a hitch, voice steady but his eyes stay glued to your body. His free hand sat at your waist, rolling your hips forward against his own as your eyes widened, biting back a muffled moan. “We’re a little preoccupied,” He answers after a beat, loud voices jumbling together and you watch the smirk form on his features. From the smug tone of his voice, and the coincidence of the both of you disappearing without explanation, it didn’t take a genius to know what you two went off to do.

He juts his hips forward, skin slapping together creating a clap and your hand flies up to your mouth. He pulls the phone away for a split second, the same cheeky smile on his features as he winks. “Yeah we’ll meet you guys after,”

You heard a series of voices, no doubt your friends and in particular hearing Manon scream through the speaker that Jay winced at. He rolls his eyes, ending the call and tossing the phone beside him on the backseats. “Always interrupting us,” He tsks playfully, hands helping you bounce up and down and hips meeting your own at an equal rhythm. You smiled, though it didn’t last as moans fell from your lips, his name repeated like a prayer while Jay leaned forward, one hand falling to your clit and managing to capture one of your tits in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple and sucking with a pop.

“Good job baby,” Jay praises, heavy breaths leaving his lips. Your eyes squeeze shut, palms pressed to his chest and he could feel your pussy clench around him. “There you go, make yourself cum on my dick, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” You mewl. A whine comes from your lips, the familiar pit in your stomach tightening and the feeling of his cock hitting deep into your cervix was enough to push you over the edge. You could hear Jay’s heavy breathes, each becoming more shallow, his grip tightening on your body, and quiet moans followed the feeling of your walls that clenched around him.

“Fuck, oh my—fuck, Jay please,” You hips jut down, stopping the in and out thrust to instead feel every inch of his dick buried all the way inside you. You rock yourself back and forth, fast and deliberate, chasing the pleasure while Jay couldn’t help himself, eyes ravishing the way you used him, the sight of your tits bouncing in his face and the fucked out look you sent him was enough.

Almost simultaneously, you tense, body shaking and pussy clenching with a loud series of moans. Feeling your own orgasm, the heat that flooded within you added to the euphoric feeling, the twitch of Jay’s dick buried inside you—shooting out hot beads of cum directly in your cunt, was overstimulating in the best way possible.

“Good job pretty girl,” Jay pants, head thrown back against the seats, hands gripping your thighs stopping your body from bucking, legs tense against his own. “You did so well, such a good girl f’me,”

You slump against his body, head buried in the crook of his neck with his arms wrapped around your waist. The slight sweat on your bodies ignored, pressed against one another as close as humanly possible as you regain your breath. “M’tired,” You mumble, words whispered against his skin and Jay laughs lightly.

“I know my love,” He agrees, a hand soothingly trailing up and down your back. A lingering kiss was placed to your cheek, sweet and innocent, filled with more than lust from before. You turn your head slightly, enough so your faces are centimeters apart but able to look at Jay. His eyes were glossy, a certain fondness in his gaze that you couldn’t help but smile at. “What’s so funny?” He tsked, though he sported a toothy grin of his own at the sight of your glowing state.

“You like me,” You giggle, a little delirious but entirely satisfied with the childish statement. He chuckles, nodding once with another short peck to the tip of your nose.

“I do,” he confirms. “You like me too,”

“I do,” You repeat, the same giddy expression on your features. Jay hums, his gaze flickering away from you after a moment. Silence fills the car, your steady breaths mixing but your eyes stay trained on Jay, at first merely admiring his features in the dim lighting, but you felt a subtle shift in his demeanor.

If you didn’t know him so well, you could’ve missed it. So you sat up slightly, your finger reaching out to poke the dimple in his cheek, pulling him out of the daze where he was staring out the car window. He blinks, shaking his head and gently moving your hand away from his face, lacing your fingers together instead.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, words quiet and soft, as if you spoke too loud it would break the bubble you were in. Jay hums, shaking his head with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You frown, sitting up entirely to look at him properly. “Jay,”

“Nothing baby,” He reassures, though it did little to help the visible nervousness in his eyes. You tilt your head, completely disregarding the fact that he was practically cock warming you, and entirely ready to have a proper conversation. “I promise, s’nothing important,”

“We just had insanely good car sex but you look worried instead of relieved,” You deadpan. “It’s important now. Talk to me Jjong, you know I’d rather know than you let it fester alone,”

Jay pauses, taking a deep breath as his eyes shut. The hand interlocked with your own squeezing tighter, as if he were afraid you’d slip through his fingers. “Is…” He begins, a slight crack in his voice and you frown. Jay opens his eyes to meet your own, the visible glossiness holding back tears which causes you to react immediately, your free hand brushing against his cheek as you urge him to continue. “Would it scare you away if I told you I love you?”

You pause, mouth parting agape in surprise. Your heart begins to thump in your chest, loud enough you were sure he could hear it too. “You’re not just saying that out of post-nut delusions, right?” You mumble, lamely attempting to lighten the air between you, giving Jay the room to take back his words but he shook his head.

“I know we only agreed to something real a few months ago,” He starts, a nervous smile playing at his lips but his words stay steady. “And we’re not technically official,” Jay snickers, shooting you a pointed look while you laugh, the nervousness in your expression obvious and you could feel the lump in your throat growing. “But we’ve been doing, whatever this is, for a year. It’s been you for me from the start, and I think with me finally pursuing you in the way I should’ve a long time ago allowed for clarity,”

Your vision grew blurry, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes that mirrored Jay’s. The confession was vulnerable, you felt shy and entirely too nervous to function but the warmth that spread in your stomach let you know that the inkling of fear was a good thing.

“I’m not expecting you to say it back,” Jay says quickly, a deep breath leaving his lips as if it were out of relief. His hand reaches up, fingertips grazing against your skin and pushing away the strands of hair that fell into your gaze. “Trust me—I’ve been thinking about it. A lot,” He admits, you letting out a watery laugh as he smiles. “It popped in my head one day, it felt dumb at first. But since then every time we were together, every time I thought about you, every time we said goodnight it was like a reflex, it feels right,”

You were at a loss for words, staring back at Jay with the start of tears beginning to dance down your cheeks. It was overwhelming, and you’d be sure to look back on it one day and laugh at the fact that your first ‘I love you’ came after a rendezvous in the car on New Years but for now, it was perfect.

“Who knew Mr. Bad Reputation could be such a softie, crying as he confessed his undying love for me?” You giggle, allowing for Jay to brush away your tears with the pads of his thumb. He rolls his eyes, wiping away the stray few that managed to escape the corners of his own but he stared back at you with the same fondness. “You love me, Park Jongseong?”

“I love you, Lee Y/N,” He confirms, the words soft but clear. You couldn’t help the smile that fell on your features, leaning forward to place a long, lingering kiss to his lips that you felt Jay grin against.

“I guess I love you too,” You tease, words mumbled against his skin and Jay snickers, arms wrapped around you keeping you close. Your hands tangled in his messy hair, basking in the warmth between you with small, innocent kisses shared between you.

A ping echoed simultaneously from your phones. The brightness from the screens lit up the dim car, both your eyes falling to Jay’s phone which was still placed beside him, a new message from the shared group chat between your friends the cause. But you paused, noting the time displayed at the top of the screen. Jay, seemingly reading your mind, sent you a heart stopping grin.

“Happy New Year, Jjong,”

Your heart did that inevitable flip it always did whenever he looked at you like that—eyes twinkling, dimple peeking, like he had just read your mind. Like he already knew the effect he had on you.

“Always,” you murmured, watching the way his fingers absentmindedly traced circles over your knuckles.

Jake exhaled dramatically, feigning relief. “Good. Because if you weren’t, I’d have to do something drastic. Like sing the whole song, off-key, in Jay’s party.”

You gasped, eyes widening. “You wouldn’t.”

He smirked. “Try me.”

You shoved his shoulder playfully, earning a boyish chuckle from him. He caught your wrist before you could retreat and brought your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against the back of it. “I mean it, though. I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll always be here. Always choose you. Doesn’t matter if the world turns upside down or if we’re miles apart.” His voice softened, sincerity dripping from every syllable. “I’ll be down for you. Forever.”

The weight of his words settled into your chest, warm and steady, like an anchor keeping you grounded. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling your heart swell in ways that words could never quite capture.

Reaching over, you brushed your fingers against his cheek, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch. “You’re such a sap, Jake Sim.”

His laugh was light, carefree. “And you love it.”

You did. More than you could ever put into words.

The car rolled to a stop at a red light, and before you could process what was happening, Jake leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in the softest, most tender kiss—one that sent electricity crackling through your veins and made the whole world fade away.

The song played on in the background, looping the chorus once again, as if the universe itself was in on this moment.

And maybe it was.

Because with Jake, love felt exactly like the lyrics.

No hesitation, no second-guessing—just the kind of devotion that made you want to fall, deeper and deeper, knowing that he’d always be there to catch you.

Jake pulled back just enough for you to catch your breath, his forehead still resting against yours, lips ghosting over your skin like he wasn’t quite ready to part just yet. His fingers remained tangled with yours, thumb brushing soft, lazy circles over the back of your hand, grounding you in the moment.

The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips when he noticed the dazed look in your eyes, but there was something else in his gaze too—something tender, something that made your chest ache in the best way.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You scoffed, pretending to be unaffected even though your heart was still hammering against your ribs. "It was alright, I guess."

Jake let out an exaggerated gasp. "Alright? Just alright?"

"I don’t know, Sim Jaeyun. Maybe you need to try again, just to make sure." You bit your lip, fighting back a grin as he tilted his head, pretending to look offended.

His eyes darkened just a fraction, playfulness still glimmering behind them, but there was something a little more deliberate about the way he leaned in this time—slower, like he wanted to savor every second. But before he could claim your lips again, the car behind you honked, the red light having turned green without either of you noticing.

Jake cursed under his breath, chuckling as he reluctantly pulled away, sending a quick wave of apology through the rearview mirror before pressing down on the gas. "That was bad timing."

You laughed, still breathless. "You think?"

Shaking his head, he shot you a quick glance, fingers tightening around yours again. "Guess that means we just have to make up for it later."

Your stomach flipped at the implication, warmth spreading all the way to your fingertips. You had no doubt he meant every word.

The drive continued in comfortable silence, with Down still playing softly in the background. Jake absentmindedly hummed along, his voice blending perfectly with the music, as if it was something he’d done a hundred times before.

Then, in the middle of the chorus, he turned to you and asked, "Do you ever think about it?"

"Think about what?" you asked, tilting your head.

Jake wet his lips, focusing on the road for a moment before glancing back at you. "Forever."

The word hung in the air between you, heavy and full of meaning.

You swallowed, your heart doing that stupid, traitorous thing where it clenched in your chest at the mere idea of him—of you and him, together, for as long as time allowed. "Yeah," you admitted softly. "I do."

A breath of relief left his lips, as if he’d been hoping you’d say that. His smile grew wider, a little more sure, a little more his. "Good," he murmured, lifting your intertwined hands to press another kiss to your knuckles. "Because I think about it all the time."

You bit your lip, looking down at your joined hands, the sight so simple yet so overwhelmingly intimate. "You do?"

Jake nodded, tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel as if debating whether to continue. But then he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head like he couldn't believe he was about to say it. "I don’t know, I just—sometimes, I picture what it’d be like. Us, years from now. Still driving around the city, listening to stupid love songs. Still teasing each other over who fell first. Still holding hands like this, like neither of us wants to let go."

Your chest tightened, emotions swelling inside you faster than you could contain them. You never thought you'd be the type to get emotional over words, but damn—Jake had a way of making you feel things so deeply it was almost unfair.

"I wouldn’t mind that," you whispered, squeezing his hand. "Not one bit."

Jake’s grin stretched so wide it nearly split his face. "Then it’s a deal," he declared, his voice dripping with affection. "No matter what, we’ll always be down for each other. Just like the song says."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at how cheesy he was, but deep down, you knew there was no one else you'd rather hear these words from. No one else you'd rather dream about a future with.

And as the city lights blurred past, as Jake continued humming along to the music with your hand still firmly in his, you knew—without a shadow of a doubt—that you were already his forever.

The drive back to your place had been filled with soft laughter, Jake drumming his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the music while stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren’t looking. The moment he pulled into your driveway, he cut the engine and turned to you with that signature grin—the one that always made your heart race.

"You sure you don’t mind me staying over?" he asked, though the way he was already unbuckling his seatbelt told you he knew the answer.

You rolled your eyes, reaching for the door handle. "Jake, if I minded, I wouldn’t have told you to bring your hoodie inside with you."

He chuckled, grabbing the hoodie from the backseat and swinging his bag over his shoulder before following you to the door. The rain had settled into a light drizzle, the cool night air wrapping around you as you unlocked the door and stepped inside. The familiar scent of your home instantly surrounded you, but it was the presence of Jake—his warmth, his energy—that made the space feel even cozier.

The door clicked shut behind him, and before you could take another step, Jake was already slipping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you back against his chest.

"I like it here," he murmured, his chin resting on your shoulder. "It smells like you."

Your cheeks warmed as you leaned into him, letting out a soft laugh. "That’s because it’s my house, genius."

Jake hummed in amusement but didn’t let go. "Still. Feels nice. Feels… homey."

You let yourself savor the moment for a little longer before nudging him playfully. "Come on, let’s get you comfortable."

With a dramatic sigh, he finally let you go, toeing off his shoes and following you into the living room, where he immediately flopped onto the couch with a satisfied groan. "Ahh, this is nice. I should just move in at this point."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you stood over him. "You basically already have, considering how much of your stuff ends up here."

Jake grinned up at you. "Not my fault you love stealing my hoodies and leaving me no choice but to restock."

You huffed, but before you could come up with a retort, he reached out and tugged you down onto the couch beside him. With no hesitation, he stretched his arms out and pulled you against him, his body warm and inviting as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder.

"You’re so clingy," you mumbled, though you made no effort to move away.

Jake only hummed, completely unbothered. "And you love it."

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile. "Unfortunately."

He gasped, pulling back just enough to look at you. "Unfortunately? Wow, and here I was, thinking I was the best boyfriend ever."

"You are," you admitted, reaching up to brush his slightly damp hair away from his forehead. "Which is why I put up with you being a human koala."

Jake pouted before leaning into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief second. "You love it," he repeated, softer this time.

You did. More than you could ever say.

"Alright, you big baby, I’ll take a shower first," you said, playfully poking his cheek.

Jake had you tucked securely in his arms, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek making it harder and harder to fight off sleep. But then he shifted slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before murmuring, “Come shower with me.”

You cracked an eye open, too comfortable to move. “Hm?”

Jake let out a small chuckle, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. “I said,” he repeated, dragging his fingers down your arm, “come shower with me.”

You blinked at him, processing his words through the sleepy haze in your mind. “Jake, why—”

“Because,” he interjected smoothly, “it’s practical. We save water. We save time. Plus, I don’t like being away from you for too long.”

You rolled your eyes. “You were gone for five minutes earlier.”

“Five painful minutes,” he emphasized, pouting like an actual child. “Come on, don’t make me beg.”

You stared at him for a long moment, taking in the way his damp hair had started to dry in messy waves, the way his hoodie had started slipping off one shoulder, exposing a sliver of skin. His eyes gleamed with mischief, but beneath it, there was something softer, something almost pleading.

With a resigned sigh, you finally muttered, “Fine.”

Jake’s grin was instant. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

Laughing, he was already up, tugging you toward the bathroom with no intention of letting you back out now. And the second the door closed behind you, the warmth of the room, the steady hum of the water filling the tub, and the presence of Jake—so close, so impossibly Jake—made your heart stutter in ways you weren’t entirely prepared for.

The moment you stepped into the bathroom, Jake was already right behind you, arms slipping around your waist as he nuzzled his nose against your neck.

"Jake," you warned, though the laughter in your voice betrayed you.

"Hear me out," he murmured against your skin, lips pressing light, barely-there kisses along your shoulder. "We save water. We save time. It’s practical."

You huffed, tilting your head slightly when his fingers started tracing light patterns along your waist. "Right. And I suppose you volunteering to go first was just a test?"

"Exactly," he confirmed, completely shameless. "I had to see if you’d take the bait."

You turned in his hold, narrowing your eyes. "And if I say no?"

Jake’s dimple peeked out as he grinned. "Then I’ll just have to look sad and pitiful until you feel bad and let me in."

You groaned. "You’re impossible."

"And you love it," he shot back, already reaching for the hem of his hoodie.

You sighed, knowing you were already giving in, knowing that once Jake set his mind on something, there was no way you were getting out of it. With a small shake of your head, you turned away and started the water, letting the warm steam fill the space.

By the time you stepped into the tub, Jake was right behind you, slipping in with a satisfied hum. The heat of the water cascaded over both of you, beads of moisture clinging to your skin as steam curled around the air.

"See?" he murmured, his voice barely above the sound of the water. "Nice, right?"

You rolled your eyes but didn’t move away when he slid his arms around your waist from behind. If anything, the warmth of his body pressed against yours made everything feel more comforting, more intimate.

Jake let out a content sigh, resting his chin on your shoulder. "This is the best idea I’ve ever had."

"You mean, the best idea you ever forced me into?" you corrected, tilting your head back slightly when his fingers lazily traced over your arms, the heat of his touch matching the warmth of the water.

Jake only chuckled, his lips pressing a lingering kiss against the side of your neck. "Semantics."

You exhaled softly, leaning against him as the water continued to rain down. His hands never stopped moving—running gently down your arms, brushing over your sides, trailing along the curve of your waist. It wasn’t rushed or teasing, just soft, like he was savoring every second of being this close.

The steam made the bathroom feel smaller, more intimate, and you could feel Jake’s steady heartbeat against your back, the rise and fall of his chest matching yours.

"You’re staring," you murmured after a moment, catching the way he was watching you in the reflection of the glass.

Jake didn’t even try to deny it. "Can you blame me?"

You turned slightly in his hold, meeting his gaze, and for a second, neither of you spoke—just stood there, water trickling down your skin, the world outside the bathroom fading away.

Then, Jake smiled, that slow, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

"You’re really pretty," he said, voice softer now, like he was saying it more to himself than to you.

Your breath hitched slightly, and before you could stop yourself, you reached up, brushing wet strands of hair away from his forehead.

"You’re not too bad yourself, Sim Jaeyun," you murmured, watching as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

Jake didn’t hesitate—he leaned in, closing the distance between you, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your lips. It was warm, lazy, full of something deeper than words could ever describe. His hands rested at your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and for a moment, it was impossible to tell where the warmth of the water ended and where Jake began.

When he pulled away, his eyes were still half-lidded, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "So… does this mean I can convince you to do this again sometime?"

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "You’re ridiculous."

"But you love it," he reminded, pressing one more kiss to the tip of your nose.

The warmth of the water still clung to your skin as you stepped out of the tub, careful not to slip on the tiled floor. The steam lingered in the air, curling around the bathroom like a delicate mist, wrapping the both of you in a cocoon of warmth. Jake followed closely behind, hair dripping wet, a lazy grin playing on his lips as he grabbed a towel and immediately wrapped it around you first, his touch slow and deliberate.

"You're gonna catch a cold if you stand there like that," he murmured, using the edge of the towel to pat your damp hair with careful precision.

You let out a small laugh, watching him fuss over you as if you were the one who needed looking after. "You’re literally just as wet as I am."

Jake shrugged, tilting his head as he continued drying your hair. "Yeah, but you’re my priority."

Your breath caught for half a second, and before you could find a comeback, he was already reaching for another towel, rubbing it over his own head with half-hearted effort. His hoodie and sweatpants lay folded on the counter, while he tossed you one of his spare shirts—one that was oversized and smelled just like him.

"You should wear this," he said, his voice softer now, watching as you slipped it over your head. It draped over you easily, the fabric swallowing you whole, making you look impossibly small in comparison. Jake hummed in approval, stepping closer as his fingers toyed with the hem of the shirt. "Yeah… I like this."

"You just like seeing me in your clothes," you teased, shaking out your damp hair.

He grinned, unashamed. "Guilty as charged."

The moment stretched between you—him in his sweats and damp hair falling messily into his eyes, you in his oversized shirt, the warmth of the shower still clinging to your skin. Something about it felt impossibly intimate, like a quiet secret only the two of you shared.

Then, Jake suddenly scooped you up, making you yelp in surprise.

"Jake!"

"You're slow, and I want to cuddle," he announced, carrying you bridal-style out of the bathroom as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You let out a huff, but you didn’t protest when he deposited you onto the couch, settling in beside you immediately. He wasted no time pulling a blanket over the both of you, arms wrapping securely around your waist as if he needed you close.

And that was when the moment truly settled—the soft rise and fall of his chest against yours, the rain humming its gentle lull outside, the way Jake’s fingers absentmindedly traced circles along your skin, as if memorizing the feel of you.

"Hey," he murmured after a beat, voice barely above a whisper.

"Hm?"

He tilted his head slightly, peering down at you with that familiar soft expression—the one he always had when he was about to say something sappy.

"You’re my favorite place," he whispered, voice barely above a breath. "Doesn’t matter where we are. As long as I’m with you, I’m home."

Your heart clenched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, completely at a loss for words. Then, without thinking, you leaned up and kissed him—slow, deep, full of everything you couldn’t say out loud.

Jake smiled against your lips, arms tightening around you as he murmured between kisses, "I love you."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, brushing your fingers through his soft hair.

"I love you too, Jake."

And as the rain continued to patter against the windows, as Jake pulled you impossibly closer and tucked you beneath his chin, you knew that this—this—was exactly what forever felt like.

You asked softly, brushing his bangs away from his face lazily, wincing as you felt his ordinarily soft hair crusted with something— blood, or dirt, you weren’t sure. In times like this, it felt like there wasn’t much you could offer Jake, and an inescapable feeling of helplessness swelled and formed a lump in your throat. He’d reassured you time and time again that your company was enough, but you figured the least you could do was clean him up to the best of your ability.

“No, let’s just go to sleep, I’ll do it tomorrow,” Jake mumbled, his eyebrows furrowed cutely and his words muffled by the soft cotton of your pillow.

You rolled your eyes, and gathered the motivation to slip out of bed— Jake let you go without any coherent protest, and you padded into the bathroom. The routine you’d adopted was methodical and you had to admit there was something therapeutic about it— saline solution, a glass of warm water, a flannel and the Hello Kitty bandaids Jake claimed to hate but never stopped you from putting on the lesser of his injuries. His arms wound around your waist as you perched on the edge of the bed, pulling you close enough that he could rest his cheek against your thigh.

“I’ll sleep easy knowing I’ve helped you, even a little,” you hummed quietly, running your hand through his hair, trying not to tug when your fingers caught on whatever it was that had gotten stuck, presumably during his fight.

“You’re helping me by being a good cushion,” he huffed, his breath fanning warmly across your bare skin and it was almost criminal how endearing he could be without trying.

“Jake.”

He sighed dramatically, shuffling to sit up in front of you, still in his spider suit— the webbed material had become oddly familiar under your fingers and it was with practiced ease that you peeled the suit away from his skin. Your heart was caught in your throat as you revealed planes of tan skin, terrified you’d come across an injury that couldn’t be fixed with pink—patterned plasters and a gentle kiss. Jake reached for your hands, grabbing your wrist and bringing your trembling hands to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m fine, really— just a couple scratches.”

His reassurances did wonders to comfort you, and you swallowed down the anxiety in your throat, nodding and offering him a small, sleepy sort of smile. You traced the ridges of his collarbones, your fingers dancing over divots and muscles that contracted instinctively under your gentle touch. Jake slumped, relaxing into your assessment of his injuries, and it gave you a rush like no other knowing you were the only person he trusted with this.

“Keroppi or My Melody?”

You asked, a laugh dancing on your lips in the form of an amused smile as you held up his options— a square plaster with Keroppi depicted on the beach, or My Melody sat with a character you didn’t know the name of.

“Keroppi,” Jake murmured after a moment of contemplation, and you averted your attention from his pretty face to focus on peeling the paper backing off the plaster.

There was a cluster of small scratches along his ribs, raw and aggravated, and you frowned— Jake’s thumb reached up to push gently at your frown, and you bit the tip of his thumb playfully. He laughed, and the sound of it was the only plaster needed to soothe your worried heart.

“I can barely even feel ‘em, you don’t need to look so worried.”

“‘s my job to be worried about you, Jake.”

Jake let out a quiet huff, his bottom lip jutting out in a stupidly kissable pout, “it’s not your job, but it’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

You were grateful to be sat with your back to the lamp, knowing the blush on your cheeks wouldn’t be illuminated.

“I love you too.”

“I know.”

You went through the motions of cleaning the rest of his injuries— thankfully, none of them were more than shallow scratches, and some warm water and a cloth had them mostly sorted. His torso was an array of carefully arranged Hello Kitty plasters, at least twelve pastel coloured, cartoon faces staring up at you with unseeing eyes. The only injury you hadn’t dealt with was his split lip, and Jake frowned when he realised you’d insist on cleaning that too.

“Ynnie, can’t you just kiss that one better?”

He pleaded, looking up at you through his lashes with the puppy—dog eyes that ordinarily would entice you into folding to his whims. You shook your head, placing your palms against his cheeks and squishing gently, forcing his lips into a pout. You leaned forward and kissed him softly, allowing the tension to bleed out of your rigid shoulders once you’d seen for yourself that he was truly okay.

“I can’t kiss it better, but I can kiss you anyway,” you murmured against his lips, pressing another chaste kiss against them before you pulled away, the warm, damp cloth in hand.

You cleaned the small cut as carefully as possibly, and if a minute or so of that time had been spent admiring the slope of his cupids bow or the criminally enticing pink of his lips, that was between you and God.

“Your pyjamas are in the wardrobe,” you prompted him— they were technically yours, but they had become a staple of Jake’s post—fight routine.

He rolled out of your bed still pouting, nearly taking your duvet with him before you tugged it back, hiding a giggle behind your arm. Jake threw his spider suit into the depths of your closet with the internal promise to grab it when he woke up, and suited up instead in fluffy Cookie Monster pyjama bottoms and a shirt he was sure had once been his. When Jake crawled back into your bed, he flopped onto your chest with no regard for your need to breathe.

“If college doesn’t work out, I don’t see why you couldn’t pursue a career as a mattress,” he mumbled, situating his cheek against your chest and ensuring he could feel the steady pound of your heart against his ear, “actually, that’s a terrible idea— I think if you ever let anyone else lay on you like this, I think I’d throw up.”

You let out a huff of laughter, your hands tangling in his hair like they belonged there, your eyes crinkled in amusement. Jake’s weight was familiar, and you relaxed under him, fumbling blindly for the duvet to pull it over both your bodies.

“Not a career path ‘m considering, so you have nothing to worry about,” you whispered against the top of his head, your statement punctuated by an unfairly soft kiss. Jake propped his chin up on your sternum, looking up at you expectantly.

“Goodnight kiss?”

You rolled your eyes in feigned exasperation, and leaned forward enough that your lips met in a sweet kiss, though you were mindful of the split that would take at least a few hours to scab over.

“You’re such a baby.”

“Your baby.”