★☆

It began as something casual — @archiveof_accidents. A place to dump random photos with ridiculous captions. He told himself it was just for fun. Aesthetic shots mixed with absurdity. Nothing serious.

The first post was a blurry brown sunset with the caption: “the sky copied my hair color today. rude.”

Then a photo of a cat knocking over a cup: “this guy owes me money.”

Slowly, without him realizing it, you started appearing in the background.

Not obviously. Never your face.

Just traces.

Your favorite iced coffee cup left on a table at the café you both frequented. A blurry reflection of your jacket in a bookstore window. Your handwriting on a napkin in the corner of a shot. An empty seat across from him at the library, your bag still hanging on the chair.

The captions stayed chaotic at first.

“someone left their overpriced coffee again. tragic.”

But the frequency increased.

Beomgyu told himself it was coincidence. He just took photos of his daily life. You happened to be in it a lot. That was all.

He posted a photo of your silhouette against golden hour light, half-hidden behind a tree. Caption: “this person thinks they’re sneaky. they’re not.”

He laughed when he posted it, thinking it was funny.

He didn’t realize he had taken thirty-seven photos of you in the past two weeks.

At first, it was exactly what Beomgyu intended — chaotic, unserious, a digital scrapbook of his daily absurdity. Followers liked the randomness: blurry photos of streetlights with the caption “he’s trying his best,” or a half-eaten ramyeon bowl labeled “this is my emotional support dinner.”

But something was shifting.

You started noticing it one random Tuesday night while scrolling through your phone in bed. You followed the account because Beomgyu had sent you the link months ago with the message “for my future biopic” and a string of laughing emojis. You thought it was just another one of his jokes.

Until you really looked.

The most recent post was a photo of a familiar café table. Your usual order — iced oat milk latte with an extra shot — sat half-drunk in the frame, condensation sliding down the cup. The chair across from it was empty, but your denim jacket was draped over the back.

Caption: “left their jacket again. some people have zero survival instincts.”

You stared at the photo for a long time. That was last Friday. You had left your jacket at the café when you rushed to class. Beomgyu had been the one who brought it back to you the next day without saying much.

You scrolled further.

Another post from two days ago: a blurry shot of the university library’s third floor. Your favorite corner seat was visible, your notebook open with your distinct handwriting scribbled across the page. The caption read: “someone’s handwriting is worse than mine. impressive.”

You felt your stomach twist in a strange way. Not bad. Just… unsettlingly warm.

The further back you went, the more traces appeared.

A reflection in a bookstore window showing the sleeve of your favorite hoodie. An empty bench at the park with two cups of coffee — one with your signature lipstick mark on the rim. A blurry candid of someone laughing (you knew it was you) taken from behind during a group outing, captioned: “this person laughs like the world owes them comedy.”

Beomgyu never tagged you. Never posted your face clearly. But the details were too specific. Too intimate.

He was documenting you without ever saying it.

The next day, you ran into him on campus.

Beomgyu was leaning against a wall, headphones around his neck, scrolling through his phone with that signature lazy grin. When he saw you, his face lit up in that playful way that made it hard to stay serious around him.

“Yo! My favorite co-conspirator,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders dramatically. “Missed me? Be honest. I know you did.”

You laughed despite yourself. “You saw me yesterday, Gyu.”

“Exactly. A whole twenty-four hours. Tragic.”

He was the same as always — loud, teasing, quick to deflect with humor. But when you mentioned the photography account casually, testing the waters, something flickered across his face for half a second.

“Oh that? It’s just random stuff,” he said, waving it off with a grin that felt a little too practiced. “Don’t read too much into it. I’m basically a chaos artist.”

You didn’t push.

But later that night, he posted again.

A photo of your favorite late-night convenience store. The empty stool where you always sat when you studied together was centered in the frame. A single strawberry milk carton sat on the counter — your usual order.

Caption: “somebody forgot their milk again. hopeless.”

You stared at the post for twenty minutes.

The account wasn’t random anymore.

It was becoming a quiet archive of every small moment you shared — captured through his eyes, hidden behind jokes and blurry angles.

And Beomgyu was still pretending he didn’t notice what he was doing.

What started as random chaos had slowly morphed into something more intentional, more intimate — though he refused to acknowledge it. Every few days, a new post would appear. Sometimes it was still absurd: a pigeon staring judgmentally at the camera with the caption “this man gets me.” But more and more often, the posts carried traces of you.

A half-empty iced americano with your specific order written on the cup and an empty seat beside him on the subway, your silhouette barely visible in the background, captioned: “someone fell asleep on my shoulder and then denied it. bold.”

He always posted with the same playful energy, as if none of it meant anything.

But his friends noticed.

It happened during a group hangout at Yeonjun’s apartment.

The five of them were sprawled across the living room, snacks everywhere, a random variety show playing on low volume. Beomgyu was in the middle of telling an exaggerated story about nearly tripping over his own feet during dance practice when Soobin suddenly sat up straighter, phone in hand.

“Wait. Pause. Gyu, what the hell is this account?”

Beomgyu froze mid-gesture. “What account?”

Soobin turned his phone around. The screen showed @archiveof_accidents.

Taehyun leaned over, eyes widening. “Oh my god. He’s been posting this whole time?”

Beomgyu tried to snatch the phone, but Yeonjun was faster, scrolling rapidly.

“Dude,” Yeonjun said, voice filled with disbelief and amusement. “There are like… four hundred photos. And half of them are just… stuff that belongs to one specific person.”

Beomgyu laughed — that bright, deflecting laugh he used like armor. “It’s just random shit I take when I’m bored. Don’t make it weird.”

Kai raised an eyebrow, scrolling slowly. “Random? Hyung, there’s a photo of their coffee order every single week. With the exact customizations. And look at this one—” He turned the phone toward the group. It was a soft, golden-hour shot of your laughing silhouette from behind, taken at the park last month. The caption read: “this person’s photogenicity should be studied. for science.”

The room went silent for half a second before exploding.

“Bro,” Soobin said, trying and failing to hide his grin. “You are down bad.”

“I’m literally not,” Beomgyu protested, snatching the phone back. His cheeks were slightly pink, but he played it off with an exaggerated eye roll. “It’s aesthetic. I’m building a vibe. You guys have no artistic vision.”

Taehyun smirked. “Yeah...”

Beomgyu opened his mouth. Closed it. Then laughed again — louder this time.

“You’re all delusional. I just take pictures of my life. And yes, they happen to be in my life. A lot. That’s normal.”

But later that night, after everyone had gone home, Beomgyu sat alone in his room, scrolling through his own account.

He stopped on a photo from two weeks ago: your hand resting on a table, fingers loosely wrapped around a pen while you studied. The caption was simple: “focused mode activated. dangerous.”

He stared at it for a long time.

Then he opened his camera roll — thousands of photos, most of them of you in some form. Blurry. Candid. Carefully framed. Moments he told himself were “just for the aesthetic.”

He whispered to the empty room, voice barely audible:

“…what the hell am I doing?”

But he didn’t delete a single photo.

Instead, he posted another one that night.

A blurry shot of two shadows walking side by side on the sidewalk. Yours was slightly ahead, his trailing just behind like he was always following.

Caption: “some people walk too fast. someone has to keep up.”

He told himself it was still a joke.

Deep down, he was starting to realize it wasn’t.

The next day, you ran into him on campus again.

Beomgyu greeted you with his usual chaotic energy — ruffling your hair, cracking a joke about your messy bun, stealing a sip of your coffee like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But when you mentioned you’d been scrolling through his account again, something flickered behind his playful smile.

“Oh yeah?” he said, voice light. “Find anything good?”

You shrugged, watching him carefully. “A lot of familiar things.”

For the briefest moment, his grin faltered. Then it was back, brighter than ever.

“That’s because I have excellent taste. Obviously.”

He changed the subject immediately, launching into a dramatic story about his latest failed attempt at cooking.

You let him.

But you were starting to see through the jokes.

At first, you told yourself you were overthinking it. Beomgyu posted random things all the time — it was part of his chaotic charm. But the more you scrolled, the less random it felt. Every few posts, another quiet piece of evidence appeared, like breadcrumbs leading somewhere you weren’t sure you were ready to follow.

You were alone in your room one rainy Thursday night, curled up in bed with your phone. The rain tapped steadily against the window as you went further back in the archive — weeks, then months.

The pattern became devastatingly clear.

Early posts were pure Beomgyu: ridiculous selfies with captions like “handsome and humble,” or a photo of his messy desk labeled “organized chaos (don’t @ me).”

Then you started appearing.

Not your face — never your face. Beomgyu was careful like that. But the details were too intimate, too consistent to be coincidence.

Many photos of your favorite strawberry milk carton sitting on a convenience store counter, taken from his usual angle when you studied together.

Another from the library: your open notebook with your distinct, slightly slanted handwriting visible in the corner. Caption: “this person’s notes are prettier than mine. annoying.”

A blurry shot taken during golden hour at the park — your silhouette laughing at something he’d said, the light catching the edge of your smile. Caption: “this laugh should be illegal in at least three countries.”

You kept scrolling.

The further back you went, the more your chest tightened. The very first photo on the account — posted almost a year and a half ago — was a blurry, candid shot of you laughing at something during a group dinner. Your head was tilted back, eyes crinkled, completely unguarded. The caption was simple, almost shy compared to his usual style:

“i think something started here.”

You stared at it until the screen dimmed.

Your hands were shaking.

This wasn’t just an aesthetic account.

This was Beomgyu’s quiet, hidden archive of you — of every small moment, every shared coffee, every late-night walk home, every time you’d made him laugh for real. He had been documenting you for over a year, hiding it behind jokes and blurry angles and ridiculous captions.

And he never once said anything.

The next day, you couldn’t look at him the same way.

You met Beomgyu at your usual café after class. He was already there, sprawled in the corner booth with two drinks — yours exactly how you liked it. When he saw you, his face lit up with that signature mischievous grin.

“There she is! My favorite person who definitely doesn’t owe me money for all the times I’ve carried her books,” he teased, pushing your drink toward you. “You look like you didn’t sleep. Rough night?”

You forced a smile and sat down. “Something like that.”

He launched into a chaotic story about his latest streaming fail, waving his hands dramatically, making you laugh despite everything. But you kept noticing the little things now — the way his eyes lingered on you a second longer than necessary, the way he subconsciously angled his phone away when he opened it, the way he always positioned himself so he could see your face clearly.

When he excused himself to the bathroom, you glanced at his unlocked phone on the table.

The photography account was open.

A new draft waited to be posted: a photo he’d taken of you five minutes ago while you were looking out the window. The light was soft on your profile. The caption draft read:

“some people make rainy days look warm.”

Your heart clenched so hard it hurt.

When Beomgyu returned, you acted normal. You laughed at his jokes. You teased him back. But inside, everything had shifted.

He had been falling for you in silence, one photo at a time, for over a year.

And he still hid behind the jokes.

That night, you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, phone glowing with the archive open beside you.

The account wasn’t just photography.

It was a love letter written in fragments — one he never meant for you to read.

And Beomgyu still had no idea you’d found it.

It sat heavy in your chest for days.

You tried to act normal around him. You laughed at his ridiculous jokes, teased him when he stole your snacks, and pretended everything was the same. But every time he pulled out his phone, you wondered if he was taking another photo. Every time he laughed too loudly at something small, you wondered how many of those laughs were hiding something deeper.

Beomgyu, for his part, remained the same charming menace on the surface.

Until one rainy Friday night.

You were both in his room after a group hangout got canceled. The rain pounded against the window as you sat on his bed, scrolling through your phone while he lounged on the floor, back against the bedframe, pretending to play a game on his Switch. The account was still open in your tabs. You couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Gyu,” you said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hm?” He didn’t look up, thumbs moving rapidly on the controller.

“Why do you take so many photos?”

He paused the game. The room filled with the sound of rain.

“For the account,” he answered lightly. “Aesthetic chaos. You know me. I’m a visionary.”

You turned your phone toward him, showing the account open. His most recent post — the one of your profile in the café, captioned “some people make rainy days look warm” — was still at the top.

Beomgyu’s entire body went still.

For once, he didn’t laugh. Didn’t crack a joke. Didn’t deflect.

He just stared at the screen, ears slowly turning red.

“…You noticed,” he said, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it.

“I’ve been scrolling through it for days,” you admitted. “Gyu… it’s me. Almost all of it is me.”

He set the Switch aside and ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking smaller than usual. The charming, untouchable Beomgyu was gone. In his place was someone vulnerable, exposed, and visibly panicking.

“I didn’t mean for it to become that,” he said, voice strained. “It started as just random stuff. Then you… you kept showing up in my days. And I kept taking pictures because… I don’t know. It felt easier than saying anything out loud.”

You moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed right in front of him.

“Easier than what?” you asked softly.

Beomgyu looked up at you. His usual mischievous spark was gone. What remained was raw and terrified.

“Easier than admitting I’ve been in love with you for over a year,” he whispered.

The confession hung between you, heavy and honest in a way Beomgyu almost never allowed himself to be.

Then he was moving.

He surged up from the floor and kissed you like he’d been holding it in for lifetimes — desperate, messy, years of hidden feelings pouring out at once. His hands cupped your face, trembling slightly as he deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against yours with a needy groan.

You pulled him onto the bed with you. Clothes came off in a rush — his hoodie, your shirt, his sweatpants. Beomgyu’s usual playful energy was replaced by something hungry and reverent. He kissed down your neck, sucking marks into your skin like he needed proof this was real.

“Been wanting this for so long,” he breathed against your collarbone, voice wrecked. “Fuck, you have no idea.”

He moved lower, spreading your legs with gentle but insistent hands. The first swipe of his tongue against your clit made you arch off the bed. Beomgyu moaned like he was the one receiving pleasure, licking and sucking with messy enthusiasm, two fingers sliding inside you and curling perfectly.

“You taste so good,” he groaned, voice muffled. “Knew you would. Dreamed about this.”

He ate you out like a man starved — tongue fucking into you, fingers pumping steadily, thumb circling your clit until you came hard on his mouth, thighs shaking around his head. He didn’t stop, working you through it with soft, praising murmurs.

When you finally caught your breath, you pulled him up and flipped positions, taking him into your mouth in one smooth motion. Beomgyu cursed loudly, hips jerking, one hand gently threading through your hair.

“Shit— baby, you don’t have to— fuck,” he gasped, head falling back as you sucked him deep, hollowing your cheeks. His usual cocky demeanor completely shattered; he was a mess of whimpers and broken praises.

He didn’t last long. He pulled you off with a shaky groan and flipped you onto your back, sliding into you in one deep thrust. The stretch was perfect. He fucked you slow and deep at first, eyes locked on yours, every thrust deliberate and emotional.

“I’m so gone for you,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours. “The account… every photo… it was all you. It’s always been you.”

You switched again, riding him hard while he gripped your hips, thrusting up to meet you. The room filled with the sound of skin against skin, rain against the window, and Beomgyu’s broken moans.

When you both came — you first, clenching around him, then him spilling deep inside you with a guttural groan — he held you tightly, arms wrapped around your back like he was afraid you’d disappear.

Afterward, he cleaned you up with gentle hands, then pulled you into his chest, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“I’m sorry I hid it for so long,” he whispered into the dark. “Joking was easier than being scared.”

You kissed his chest, right over his racing heart.

“You don’t have to joke with me anymore.”

Beomgyu let out a shaky breath and held you closer.

For the first time, he didn’t deflect.

He just stayed.

-----

The morning after felt surreal.

You woke up in Beomgyu’s bed, his arm draped heavily over your waist, face buried in your neck like he’d been afraid you’d slip away in the night. The faint scent of his shampoo and the warmth of his body grounded you. When you stirred, he didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he pressed a slow, sleepy kiss to your shoulder.

“Morning,” he mumbled, voice hoarse and softer than usual. No jokes. No dramatic flair. Just Beomgyu — raw and quiet.

You turned in his arms and kissed him properly. He melted into it, hands sliding down your back with a kind of reverence that made your chest ache.

For a few perfect hours, everything felt easy.

But Beomgyu had spent years mastering the art of deflection. Old habits died hard.

By the afternoon, the jokes returned — but they felt different now. Sharper. More frequent. Like he was testing the waters, making sure the vulnerability of last night hadn’t broken something irreparable.

You were at the campus café with a few mutual friends when it started.

A guy from your literature class — tall, friendly, and a little too confident — stopped by your table. He’d been flirting with you on and off for weeks, never quite crossing the line but always lingering.

“Hey,” he said, smiling brightly at you. “You look good today. That sweater’s cute. New?”

Before you could answer, Beomgyu — who had been mid-bite of his sandwich — let out a loud, dramatic laugh.

“Cute? That’s the best you’ve got?” he teased the guy, grin sharp. “She looks incredible. Try harder, man.”

The table laughed. The guy chuckled awkwardly and left after a few more words.

But you noticed how Beomgyu’s hand had tightened around his cup. How his usual playful teasing carried a new, protective edge. How his eyes followed the guy until he disappeared into the crowd.

Later, when you were alone walking back to his apartment, you brought it up gently.

“You were a little intense back there.”

Beomgyu shoved his hands in his pockets, kicking a pebble. “What? I was just being honest. He was lame.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Gyu.”

He was quiet for a long moment, the playful mask slipping.

“I didn’t like it,” he admitted, voice low. “I know I have no right to feel possessive after hiding for so long. But seeing him look at you like that… it made me want to post every photo I’ve ever taken of you just to prove—”

He stopped himself, cheeks flushing.

You stopped walking and turned to face him.

“Prove what?”

Beomgyu looked away, jaw tight. For the first time in years, his humor failed him completely.

“That you’re mine,” he said quietly. “Even if I was too scared to say it before.”

The confession was small, almost shy. But it carried the weight of every hidden photo, every unsaid feeling, every time he’d chosen a joke over honesty.

You pulled him into a kiss right there on the sidewalk, rain starting to fall lightly around you. Beomgyu kissed you back like he was drowning, hands cupping your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks with trembling care.

That night, the tension snapped again.

You barely made it inside his apartment before he had you pressed against the door, kissing you hard and deep. His usual playful energy was gone — replaced by something desperate and sincere.

“Need you,” he breathed against your mouth, hands already sliding under your shirt. “Been thinking about you all day.”

He carried you to his bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness. Clothes disappeared slowly this time, like he wanted to savor every second. Beomgyu kissed down your body with focused reverence, sucking marks into your inner thighs before spreading your legs and burying his face between them.

He ate you out like he was making up for lost time — tongue slow and thorough, two fingers curling deep inside you while he moaned against your clit. When you came on his tongue, he didn’t stop, working you through it until you were shaking.

Then he flipped you over, pulling your hips up and sliding into you from behind in one smooth thrust. The angle was devastating. He fucked you deep and steady, one hand reaching around to rub your clit while the other gripped your hip.

“Mine,” he groaned, voice wrecked. “Been mine for so long. Should’ve told you sooner.”

You switched again, riding him slow and deep while he looked up at you with glassy, adoring eyes. His hands traced every curve like he was memorizing you, thumbs brushing over your nipples, lips parted in quiet awe.

When you both came — you first, clenching around him, then him spilling deep inside you with a broken moan of your name — he held you tightly against his chest, arms wrapped around you like a lifeline.

Afterward, while cleaning you up, he pressed soft kisses to every mark he’d left.

“I’m still scared,” he whispered into the darkness later, curled around you. “But I don’t want to hide anymore. Not with you.”

You kissed his forehead and held him closer.

-----

Beomgyu was still Beomgyu — loud, chaotic, quick with a joke — but the armor had visible dents now. He touched you more freely: a hand on your lower back when walking, fingers brushing yours when passing in the kitchen, forehead kisses when he thought you were focused on something else. The jokes remained, but they felt softer around the edges, like he was slowly learning he didn’t need them as a shield with you.

But old habits were stubborn.

One night, after a long group dinner where he’d spent the entire evening making everyone laugh until their stomachs hurt, you both returned to his apartment. The rain was falling softly outside again, like the universe was giving you another quiet moment.

You were curled up on his bed together, lights dimmed, his head resting on your chest while you played with his hair. The quiet felt safe. Beomgyu’s breathing was steady, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders.

“Gyu,” you said softly, running your fingers through his dark strands. “Why do you do it?”

He didn’t pretend not to understand.

For a long time, he stayed silent, tracing lazy patterns on your arm.

“Because it’s easier,” he finally whispered. “If I make everything a joke, no one looks too closely. No one asks the scary questions. If I laugh first, I control how the moment ends.”

You waited.

Beomgyu shifted, turning so his chin rested on your sternum, eyes meeting yours in the low light. He looked younger like this. Vulnerable.

“My family… we didn’t do serious well,” he said quietly. “Whenever things got heavy, someone would crack a joke. Change the subject. Pretend everything was fine. It worked. Until it didn’t. People left anyway. Friends. Relationships. They got tired of the clown who never got serious.”

His voice cracked just slightly.

“So I got really good at it. Being funny. Being charming. Being the guy everyone wants around because he makes things light. But then you…” He let out a shaky breath. “You started showing up in my life and suddenly the jokes felt… insufficient. Taking pictures felt safer. Like I could keep pieces of you without having to admit what they meant.”

You cupped his face gently, thumb brushing his cheek.

“You don’t have to be funny with me,” you whispered. “You don’t have to perform.”

Beomgyu’s eyes shimmered. He leaned up and kissed you — slow, deep, full of everything he’d been holding back for years. The kiss quickly grew heated, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging it off with trembling urgency.

He took his time undressing you, kissing every inch of skin he revealed like he was apologizing for every joke he’d used as a wall. When he reached between your legs, he used his mouth and fingers with devastating patience — licking slow stripes up your folds, sucking your clit gently while two fingers curled inside you, stroking that perfect spot until your thighs shook around his head.

“Want to make you feel good,” he murmured against your wetness. “Want to deserve you.”

You came hard on his tongue, crying out his name. Beomgyu didn’t stop until you were trembling and oversensitive, then crawled up your body, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue.

When he finally pushed inside you, it was slow and deep. He buried his face in your neck, breathing you in as he rocked into you with long, deliberate thrusts.

“I’m scared,” he admitted against your skin, voice breaking on a moan. “I’m so fucking scared of needing someone this much. But I need you. I’ve needed you for so long.”

You switched positions, riding him slow and intimate while he looked up at you with glassy, adoring eyes. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, but his touch was reverent. Every thrust, every moan, every whispered “I love you” felt like another wall crumbling.

When you both came — you first, clenching around him, then him spilling deep inside you with a broken groan of your name — he held you tightly against his chest, arms wrapped around you like he never wanted to let go.

After cleaning you up with gentle hands, he pulled you back into his arms and whispered into the darkness:

“I don’t want to hide behind jokes anymore. Not with you. You make me want to be real.”

-----

Time moved gently after Beomgyu finally stopped hiding.

The charming menace didn’t disappear overnight. He still made ridiculous jokes at the worst possible moments, still sent you memes at 3 a.m., still dramatically gasped when you stole his food. But now the jokes felt like seasoning rather than armor. Underneath them was a boy who was learning, day by day, that he didn’t have to be funny to be loved.

The photography account became something beautiful.

He still posted chaotic photos, but more and more often he included your face — clear, unguarded, smiling. The captions grew softer, more sincere:

“found my favorite view again.” “this person makes bad days feel like plot twists.” “been collecting moments like these for two years. finally brave enough to say why.”

His followers lost their minds in the best way. The comment sections filled with heart emojis and people saying they’d never seen someone fall in love so visibly through photos.

Beomgyu read every single one with a shy, pleased little smile.

One year after the confession, on a quiet spring evening, you found him sitting on the floor of his room surrounded by printed photos.

He’d printed hundreds — every important shot from the account, carefully laid out in chronological order across the floor like a timeline of his heart.

When you walked in, he looked up at you with soft, nervous eyes.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said quietly.

You sat down beside him. Beomgyu picked up the very first photo — the blurry one of you laughing at that group dinner years ago. The original caption still read: “i think something started here.”

“I took this the night I realized I was screwed,” he admitted, voice thick. “You laughed at one of my stupid jokes and it wasn’t polite laughter. It was real. And I just… kept taking pictures after that. I told myself it was for the account. But really, I was just trying to keep pieces of you. In case you ever left.”

He picked up another photo — one of you sleeping on his shoulder on the subway, taken secretly.

“I was terrified of needing someone this much,” he continued. “So I turned it into art. Into jokes. Into anything except saying it out loud.”

You reached out and took his hand.

Beomgyu looked at you, eyes shining.

“But I’m not scared anymore,” he whispered. “I love you. Not in a funny way. Not in a chaotic way. Just… completely. And I want to keep taking pictures of us for the rest of my life. No more hiding.”

You kissed him then — slow, deep, full of every feeling you’d both carried for so long.

The kiss quickly grew heated.

Beomgyu pulled you into his lap, hands sliding under your shirt as he kissed you like he was still making up for lost time. Clothes came off with trembling urgency but also reverence. He laid you down gently among the scattered photos, kissing every inch of skin he could reach.

He took his time with his mouth between your legs — licking slow, thorough stripes up your folds, sucking your clit while two fingers curled deep inside you. When you came on his tongue, he moaned like it was his own pleasure, working you through it with soft praises.

Then he moved up your body and slid into you in one smooth thrust, forehead pressed to yours.

“I love you,” he breathed with every deep stroke. “I love you. I love you.”

You switched, riding him slow and intimate while he looked up at you with glassy, adoring eyes. His hands traced your body like he was still memorizing every curve, whispering how beautiful you were, how lucky he was, how he never wanted this to end.

When you both came — you first, clenching around him, then him spilling deep inside you with a broken moan of your name — he held you tightly against his chest, arms wrapped around you like you were the only thing anchoring him to the world.

Afterward, he cleaned you up with the gentlest hands, then pulled you back down among the photos. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as you both looked at the timeline of his love spread across the floor.

“I used to think the archive was an accident,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Now I think it was the bravest thing I’ve ever done. Because it led me to you.”

You turned in his arms and kissed him softly.

“The archive of accidents,” you murmured against his lips.

Beomgyu smiled — small, real, and full of quiet joy.

“Our archive,” he corrected gently. “And I’m never deleting a single photo.”

You stumble through the hallway, bags swinging loosely in your hands, the world tilting a little from the drinks your friends had pressured you into. Keys jingle in your fingers as you fumble at the lock, trying to get the door open without dropping anything. A quiet voice stops you mid-motion. “Hey, let me help you with that.” You look up to see Soobin’s head peeking from his slightly open door.

He’s so tall, broad, and looming in a way that makes your stomach flip even in your tipsy state. He reaches out, gently taking your keys from your hand and unlocking the door for you. “Here.” His hand brushes yours briefly, and your fingers tingle. “Thank you, Soobiinnn.” you slur, smiling up at him. The second you step into your apartment, you trip over the edge of the carpet and flop onto the couch with a soft thud.

You let out a whiny little, “oww…” rubbing your knee. “Hey, careful.” he murmurs, crouching down beside you, his warm hand pressing to your back. “I-It’s fineee.” you mumble, waving him off with a tipsy smile. “I’m…I’m good.” But when you shift to get comfortable, your skirt rides up, and the thin fabric of your panties peeks out before you even notice. Soobin notices.

His breath stutters, chest tightening, and for a second his brain completely blanks. He tears his gaze away instantly, jaw clenched, but the damage is done, his cock twitches in his sweatpants before he can stop it. Fuck…don’t look. She’s drunk. Be good. Be good. He straightens up, trying to compose himself, but then you pout up at him, tugging gently at his shirt.

“Soobin…” His name on your lips is slurred and whiny, and he feels heat crawl down his neck. “You’re drunk,” he says firmly, more to himself than to you. “You should sleep, I’ll get you a blanket.” You try to argue, “I’m not drunk.” tugging again at his shirt with those big pleading eyes, lips pouting out. “Juuust a tiny bit…”

“Yeah, that’s a lot.” he mutters, trying to sound stern, but his voice comes out rougher than he meant. When he drapes the blanket over you, you whimper and shift closer, catching the hem of his hoodie in your fist. “Stay,” you whisper, tugging weakly. “Don’t go yet.” His heart pounds so hard it hurts. The smell of your shampoo, the warmth of your skin, the sight of you flushed and soft and clinging to him, it’s all too much. He can feel his self-control slipping by the second. “Y/n…” he says, but it comes out husky, like a warning.

You blink up at him, lashes heavy, and then, like you don’t even realize what you’re doing, you pout deeper, tugging his shirt until he leans closer. “Soobin,” you whisper again softly, almost needy. “You’re so nice to me…” His throat bobs as he swallows hard, every muscle in his body tense. Stop. Don’t think about how pretty she looks. Don’t think about how warm her lips would feel on—

But then you let out the tiniest whine, eyes slipping shut as you mumble, “...don’t leave me yet.” and his cock throbs painfully in his pants. He feels dizzy, torn between guilt and raw hunger. He should go. He knows he should go. But then you tug his shirt one last time and lean up just enough to press a clumsy, sleepy kiss to his lips and he nearly loses it. You flop back down with a dreamy sigh, turning to your side as if nothing happened. “...goodnight, Soobin.” He stands there frozen, heart hammering, cock straining, his entire body burning.

“Uh—y-yeah,” he stammers, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Goodnight, y/n…Sweet dreams....” He forces himself to pull away, he closes your door behind him and leans back against the hallway wall, he squeezes his eyes shut and curses under his breath. “Fuck…” The image of your pout, your soft lips, the lace peeking out from under your skirt—it’s already seared into his mind. He knows he won’t be sleeping tonight.

The next morning, you step out of your apartment still half-asleep, dark circles, oversized hoodie hanging off your frame. You’re on your way to grab a coffee from downstairs, hoping it’ll fix the dull pounding in your head. When your door clicks shut, you realize you’re not alone, Soobin’s just across the hall, locking his own door. You freeze, stomach flipping. Images from last night flicker in your mind—your clumsy stumble onto the couch, the way you tugged his shirt, that quick kiss you’re not sure you imagined.

“Soobin..” you squeak, voice embarrassingly small. He looks up, and his lips twitch into the faintest smile. God, he looks good even in the morning—hair messy, plain black t-shirt stretched over broad shoulders, sweatpants hanging loose on his hips. His height makes the hallway feel smaller, towering over you like he could block out the world if he wanted.

“Morning.” he says, voice deep and warm. His eyes flicker over you, lingering a little too long. “How’s your head? Not too hungover?” You tug at the sleeve of your hoodie, cheeks heating. “I-It’s fine. Just…tired.” His gaze softens, and he tilts his head like he’s checking you over. The protective part of him slips through in his tone. “You don’t usually drink, right? Must’ve hit you pretty hard.”

You bite your lip, looking anywhere but him. “Mm. Yeah.” He studies you for a second, then his lips curve into a smirk. “You don’t remember much, do you?” Your stomach drops. “What do you mean?” He takes a slow step closer, and suddenly he’s right there, close enough that you have to tilt your head back to meet his eyes.

The sheer size of him makes your breath hitch. “Last night…” His voice dips lower, playful but heavy with something else. “You were really clingy, princess.” Your mouth falls open. “W-what?!” He chuckles, the sound vibrating low in his chest, and you swear your knees go weak. “Don’t worry. It was cute.” You’re burning red now, sputtering. “I—I wasn’t—”

“You were.” he cuts in gently, leaning down just enough that his shadow falls over you. His smirk softens, “Don’t worry about it. Just…maybe don’t let your friends push drinks on you again, princess.” You nod quickly, clutching your phone like it’s a lifeline. He steps back, ruffling your hair like you’re something small and delicate he wants to take care of. “See you later, y/n.” he says, already turning toward the stairs. You’re left frozen in the hall, face hot, your chest pounding, not just from embarrassment, but from the way his size and presence make you feel impossibly tiny.

Later that afternoon, you’re in the hallway again, this time wrestling with a large cardboard box. It’s wedged halfway through your doorway, too wide to maneuver easily, and you’re straining against it, little grunts slipping past your lips as you try to tug it inside. “Come on…” you mumble under your breath, already sweaty and frustrated. From behind you, you hear a deep voice, “What the hell are you doing?”

You gasp and whip around, hair falling into your face, only to find Soobin leaning against his doorframe, arms crossed, brows raised. He’s fresh from a shower, damp hair falling over his forehead, a loose t-shirt clinging to his chest. “I—I’m fine!” you blurt, tugging at the box again. “I can do it.” His eyes flick down to the way your little hands are struggling against the cardboard, and he huffs a laugh. “You? Are you sure?”

You pout, “Yes! I’m stronger than I look.” He pushes off the doorframe with one long stride, his shadow swallowing yours as he comes closer. “No, you’re not. You’re about to throw your back out.” Before you can protest, he brushes you aside gently, one big hand on your hip as he moves you out of the way. The casual touch makes your heart flutter. “Move.”

Then, with barely any effort, he grips the box and lifts it clean off the floor like it’s nothing. You gape, watching his arms flex under the weight, his tall frame filling your doorway. “There.” he says, carrying it inside and setting it down like it weighs less than a pillow. “Problem solved, princess.” You huff, crossing your arms. “I…could’ve done it eventually.” He chuckles, turning back to face you.

“No, you couldn’t. That’s what I’m here for.” You tilt your head up at him, lips parting slightly, completely zoned out, admiring from up close now. His voice continues, low and casual, but you don’t hear a word. He’s talking about how heavy the box is, joking about how you shouldn’t try to carry it alone, but you’re completely lost in his face, tracing every line with your eyes.

And then, without realizing it, your gaze drifts lower, past the line of his chest, down his torso, and lands squarely on the bulge in his sweats. You’re entirely unaware that he’s noticed. His jaw tightens instantly, a flicker of heat sparking in his dark eyes. He lets you stare for a beat, your innocent daze making him burn. Then, slowly, his lips curl. “Eyes up here, princess.” he murmurs, voice low and amused. You jolt, eyes snapping up, cheeks flaming as you realize where you’d been looking.

“I—I wasn’t—!” u say. “Sure you weren’t.” He grins, towering over you, the teasing edge in his tone making your skin buzz. You stumble over your words, pouting in flustered embarrassment, and he just shakes his head, ruffling your hair again like he can’t help himself. “You’re too damn cute,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself. “Gonna drive me crazy one of these days.” You blink up at him, heart pounding, not sure if you actually heard him right, but his gaze lingers on you a second too long before he steps away, leaving you hot all over.

It’s late at night, and your textbooks are scattered across your desk, notes half-finished, highlighter marks everywhere. You’ve been staring at the same page for the past hour, unable to focus, your brain buzzing and heart racing from stress. Your chest tightens, and suddenly, it all becomes too much. You drop your pen, bury your face in your hands, and a soft whimper escapes before you can stop it.

Tears start spilling down your cheeks, and you sniffle, shoulders trembling. You just want someone to hold you, someone to make it all feel okay. Without thinking, you grab your hoodie, slip on fuzzy socks, and shuffle to Soobin’s door across the hall. Softly, you knock. “Uh… Soobin…” Your voice breaks, barely a whisper.

Seconds later, the door swings open. Soobin is there, fresh from whatever he was doing, eyes immediately softening at the sight of you. Pyjamas, hands in your lap, tears streaming down your pink cheeks, little sniffles escaping—his heart clenches. “Y/n? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice is low, urgent, worry threading every word.

Before he can react further, you fling yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly. He stiffens for a second, startled, but the moment he feels how small and fragile you are in his arms, all his instincts take over. One arm wraps firmly around your waist, holding you close, the other hand coming up to gently pet your head, fingers threading into your hair.

“Hey…it’s okay, I’ve got you princess.” he murmurs, voice soft and protective all at once. You sniffle against his chest, letting your tears fall freely, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Do you…wanna come inside?” he asks gently. You nod, soft and vulnerable, and he guides you into his apartment, closing the door behind you.

He keeps a hand at the small of your back as you shuffle to the couch, still holding onto him a little, reluctant to let go. “Come here.” he murmurs, patting his lap. “Lay your head here.” You obey immediately, resting your head against his thigh, curling into him slightly. His hand finds your hair again, stroking gently, softly, and you hum, finally letting your body relax against him as the faint sound from the tv lingers in the room.

“You’re safe, princess.” he says, his voice low and husky, completely consumed by the sight of you so small and vulnerable. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry about anything.” You sigh, closing your eyes, snuggling slightly into his hand in your hair. The warmth of his thigh beneath your head, the steady pressure of his hand, the way he’s entirely focused on you, it all melts the tension and stress away.

He watches you, fingers brushing strands of hair back from your face, and a low hum of something like awe and desire escapes him. God…she’s so perfect. So cute, so soft…she has no idea what she does to me. “Shh…it’s okay,” he whispers again, pressing a little closer to you. “Just relax. You don’t have to do anything right now.”

You sniffle again, nuzzling a little closer, and he feels his chest tighten. Every whimper, every tiny sigh, every inch of your soft body pressed against him is making him lose control, but he keeps his voice gentle, protective, because for now, you need him, and he’s not letting himself do anything rash.

After a moment, he leans closer, his voice careful. “Do you…wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” You sniffle again, hugging yourself lightly. “Uni…it’s so hard. I’m so tired.” you whisper, voice cracking just slightly. His chest tightens at the sound of your words, and he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Shh…hey, it’s okay.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax a little more against him. He continues to run his fingers through your hair, brushing away stray strands, keeping his thumb gently against your temple. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” he murmurs. “I can help you. Whatever you need…I’m right here.”

You peek up at him through wet lashes, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. “You really mean that?” He tilts his head, soft smile spreading across his face. “Of course I do. You’re doing so much, and you’re so strong…but even strong girls need someone to take care of them sometimes, hm?” Every little sigh you let out, every soft movement, makes him ache quietly in his chest.

“Just rest for now, okay?” he whispers. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me.” You nod, letting your eyes flutter closed, finally feeling a little peace as his hand lingers in your hair, his warmth holding you close. And in that moment, he’s completely captivated, helplessly drawn to you, wanting to protect you forever.

You lean up, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck, and he startles, eyes widening for just a second. Then, as if he can’t resist, his arms wrap around you firmly, holding you close, pressing you to his chest. “You’re always so good to me, Soobin...” you murmur softly, forehead resting against his shoulder, voice small and vulnerable.

His chest tightens, and his lips press into the top of your head. “You deserve it.” he says, voice low, and it makes your heart flutter. You lift your head, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes hold you completely, warm and intense, and for a moment you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. Your chest rises and falls against his, your fingers brushing the back of his neck, trembling slightly.

Then, before you can think twice, you press your lips to his. The kiss is sudden, soft at first, hesitant, but full of longing. Your heart races as you feel him stiffen slightly against you—his hands tighten on your waist, holding you impossibly close, but he doesn’t pull away. He whispers your name, breathless, and the sound of it makes your knees go weak.

His lips move against yours, deepening the kiss, possessive and claiming, like he’s letting you know you’re his. You feel him press you more tightly to him, and every part of your body tingles with need. His hands trail up to your face, cupping your cheeks, thumbs brushing your lips, and his gaze is fixed entirely on you. “You drive me fucking crazy.” he murmurs.

You look up at him, doe-like eyes wide and glossy fixed on his face. “Please, Binnie...” you whisper, voice trembling, and the sound of the nickname makes his chest tighten painfully. He swallows, a low groan escaping him. Fuck…The way you’re looking at him, so small, so giving…it’s driving him insane. He can feel himself throb in his sweatpants, hands clenching slightly.

“Fuck—Come here.” he growls, voice rough. Before you can react, he guides you to straddle his lap on the couch. Your knees hover on either side of him as he leans back slightly, pulling you close. His hands find your waist, gripping firmly, thumbs brushing over the soft curve of your hips, while his gaze rakes over you like he can’t get enough.

His lips find yours again, harder. Fingers dig a little into your skin as he holds you flush against him. His hands roam from your waist down to your thighs, fingers brushing over the soft fabric of your pyjamas, teasing, letting you feel the heat in his touch. “You don’t even know what you do to me every fucking day.” he growls, trailing kisses along your jaw and neck.

You begin to move slowly against him, your hips grinding just a little over the hard outline of his bulge through his sweatpants. His breath catches audibly, a low groan slipping past his lips as his hands tighten on your waist, holding you firmly in place. “Fuck…princess…” he murmurs, completely undone by the way your body feels against him. He leans back slightly, letting you take the lead, eyes dark and hungry as he watches every roll of your hips.

He can’t stop himself from grinding back slightly. You whimper, rocking a little harder, tilting your head to look at him with your pleading eyes. “Soobin…” His chest rises and falls rapidly, jaw tight as he leans, pressing his forehead to yours. “You feel so good, baby…so perfect on me…” His hands slide a little lower, teasing over your inner thighs, just brushing against your heat over your pyjama pants, and the sound of your needy moans pushes him closer to the edge.

You lean in closer, breath warm against his ear, lips brushing it softly. A small whine escapes your throat as you murmur, “I—I need you, Binnie…” His grip on your waist tightens instantly. He tilts his head, lips brushing against your hairline, voice low and rough. “Yeah? What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flush and you cling to him even tighter. “Want you to touch me...” you whisper, voice trembling with need. His large hand slides over your shorts, palm pressing against your cunt through the fabric. “Wanna feel good, baby?” he murmurs, eyes dark and hungry as he watches your reactions.

You nod immediately, pouting. “Yes, please…” you whisper. A satisfied hum leaves his mouth as his fingers begin to move deliberately, pulling your shorts to the side and rubbing over the thin fabric of your panties. “Fuck…you’re so wet, princess. Want me that bad?” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your clit, teasing just enough to make you whimper.

You tilt your head back slightly, soft moans escaping as your hands clutch at his shoulders, rocking against him instinctively. “Yes, Binnie…so bad.” He tugs gently on the waistband of your shorts, his voice sounding reverent. “Can I take these off, princess?”

“Yes…” you breathe out, nodding eagerly, your own hands helping him slide the fabric down your legs. You’re left in your panties and shirt, perched prettily on his lap, and when you sink back onto the hard outline of his bulge it makes you wet immediately. Soobin’s breath hitches, a soft groan escaping his parted lips when your soaked panties drag against him.

His head tips back for a moment, jaw tight, before he looks back at you with hooded eyes. His hands are everywhere—roaming your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh, sliding up to cup your ass and press you down harder against him. He starts grinding you against his length, deep groans mixing with your whines.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I see you—even when I don’t—I get so hard just picturing you like this.” Your body is hot, a blush spreading across your cheeks as his confession sinks in. He leans closer, his lips brushing your ear as he grinds you slower, harder against his cock.

“You drive me fucking insane, Y/n. I try to hold it in when my friends are around, when you’re just smiling at me in the hallway…but fuck, baby, I can’t anymore. I need you.” Your heart pounding so hard it almost hurts. “You…” your voice trembles, your hips still grinding faintly against him. “You think about me like that?”

Soobin’s jaw flexes as his grip on your waist tightens. “Fuck yes, baby. Every day. Every night.” A needy sound leaves your throat before you can stop it and you surge forward, kissing him desperately. He swallows the sound, kissing you back just as hungrily, his big hands moving and groping your waist and thighs. You pull back just enough to whisper against his lips, “I’ve liked you since I moved here, Binnie…”

His eyes darken, a small, wicked smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, baby? My little princess had a crush on me this whole time?” he teases, his thumb rubbing slow circles into your inner thigh. You nod, eyes big and sparkly. “So bad…you’re always so good to me.” you murmur. “I’ll always be good to you, baby…” his voice drops, gentle, as his nose brushes yours. “You’re my good girl.”

“Mhm...” you nod frantically before kissing him again. He kisses you back hungrily, one of his large hands sliding up under your shirt until his palm meets your warm skin. He groans when he feels you arch into his touch, his thumbs brushing over your nipples before he cups your breasts fully, kneading and squeezing until you let out a shaky whine against his mouth.

“Fuck, lift your arms, baby.” he says roughly. You obey instantly, breathless, raising your arms above your head. He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it off in one smooth motion, tossing it carelessly on the couch. His eyes roam over your bare chest, and you can feel the way his cock hardens beneath you.

His big hands immediately grab your tits, squeezing greedily, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers. “You’re so pretty…fuck.” he groans, his lips parting as he stares at you like he’s starving. He leans down suddenly, dragging his tongue over one stiff peak before sucking it into his mouth.

“Soobin…” you whine, your head falling back as his teeth graze your nipple. His other hand kneads your other breast, switching between rough squeezes and gentle rolls that make your thighs tighten around his hips. Your shaky hands tug at the hem of his shirt, your big eyes pleading up at him. “Please…wanna see you, Binnie…”

For a second he just stares at you, like the words alone nearly broke his self-control. Then a low chuckle rumbles in his chest, his lips curling into a smirk.“Yeah, princess? You wanna see me?” he teases, voice rough, tilting his head as his hand caresses your cheek. You nod quickly, whining softly, tugging on his shirt again with impatience.

“Please…” Soobin groans, giving in. He grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head quickly, tossing it to the side. His lean, toned body is revealed and your breath catches, eyes roaming shamelessly. His smirk deepens, a flash of pride in his gaze. He grabs your hips, grinding you down against his bulge again, and leans close to your ear. “You look so small on me like this. So fucking perfect.”

You lean forward, lips pressing to his neck, kissing along his collarbones, your soft whimpers vibrating against his skin. “Need you, Binnie…” you whine, breath hot and desperate. Hhe suddenly shifts, his large hands sliding under your thighs. With almost no effort, he lifts you up off his lap, your surprised squeal echoing through the room. “Soobin!” you whine, arms wrapping around his neck as he steadies you against his chest.

“So damn cute.” he mutters, lips brushing your cheek before he kisses it softly, even as his steps are quick and purposeful. He carries you effortlessly toward his bedroom, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, princess…” he admits. He nudges the door open with his foot and sets you gently on his bed, towering over you, his dark hair falling in his face.

His lips crash onto yours, swallowing every needy sound you make. His hands are everywhere—palming your tits, sliding down your waist, squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs like he can’t get enough. He pulls back just enough to whisperagainst your lips, “Let’s get these panties off, hm?”

You're nervous, but you nod quickly, too needy to argue. His fingers hook into the waistband, dragging them down achingly slow, until they slip down your legs and he tosses them somewhere into the dark. The second you’re bare, heat creeping up your cheeks, you whine softly and snap your thighs shut, curling into yourself as your hands clutch the sheets.

Soobin slowly leans down, kissing the inside of your knee softly. His large hands gently coax your legs apart, “Don’t hide from me, princess.” he whispers, eyes burning into yours. “You trust me, don't you?” You nod softly, looking down at him. He hums amd starts kissing higher along your thighs, prying them open slowly with his palms.

The moment he gets a full view of your glistening cunt, his cock twitches hard in his boxers. “Shit…” he hisses, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drags a hand down his face, like he’s barely holding it together. In a rush, he shoves his sweats down his long legs and kicks them aside, leaving only the tight stretch of his boxers.

Your eyes drop instantly, widening at the sight of his thick bulge straining against the fabric. You gulp, lips parting, a soft whimper caught in your throat. He notices. His lips curl into a playful smirk and climbs back onto the bed, crowding you with his tall frame. “Cute” he mutters and then kisses you hard—hungry, possessive. His chest presses to yours as his hips roll down, his hard length grinding against your bare, soaked pussy through his boxers.

The friction makes you moan against his lips, your legs falling open wider, inviting him closer. His hips grind harder against you, and soon the front of his boxers is wet with your arousal. He pulls back just enough to look down between your bodies, groaning when he sees the wet patch spreading.

“You’re soaking me, baby.” he growls, his cock twitching desperately under the fabric. Your cheeks burn, a needy whine slipping past your lips, but before you can say anything, his big hand slides down. He presses his palm against your bare pussy, and you gasp, clutching at his shoulders.

“So fucking wet…” he mutters, dragging his fingers through your folds, gathering every drop of slick before rubbing it back over you. He circles your clit with the pad of his finger, until your hips jerk against his hand. “Mmh—Soobin!” you moan, your head falling back, hips chasing his touch, grinding yourself helplessly against his fingers.

“That’s it, princess.” he rasps, watching you fall apart under him. “So needy for me, yeah?” Your body arches into him, small whimpers leaving your throat every time his finger presses down just right. His free hand grips your thigh tightly, keeping you spread open for him.

“Spread your legs for me, princess.” You obey instantly, parting your thighs wide. Heat creeps up your face at the boldness of it, but when you glance down, Soobin’s eyes are already locked between your legs, his jaw tight, his expression hungry. “Good girl…” he murmurs. He settles between your thighs, his big hands sliding up until they grip firmly, holding you open for him just how he wants.

He leans down, pressing slow, lingering kisses along the inside of your thigh, making you twitch under his touch, then another kiss, closer to your aching heat “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this.” he whispers against your skin, squeezing your thighs in his palms. “All spread out for me…my perfect little princess.” You slightly squirm, desperate for him to finally touch where you need it.

“Let me take care of you, baby.” Soobin says, his voice full of promise. His breath fans over your soaked pussy, making you shiver. Then his tongue presses flat against you, licking one long, slow stripe up your folds. “Ngh—” you whimper, hips jerking, your thighs twitching in his big hands.

He groans low in his throat at the taste, then leans in closer, kissing your pussy like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Soft, lingering presses of his mouth against your heat before his tongue pushes past your folds, lapping you up eagerly. Your head falls back against the pillows, a soft moan spilling out as your fingers fly to his hair, tugging desperately. “B-Binnie…”

“So sweet…” he says between licks, his voice muffled against you. His hands keep you spread wide, thumbs stroking circles into your skin. Every flick of his tongue makes you whine, your whimpers growing needier as you grind faintly against his mouth. “Good girl,” he mutters against your clit before sucking it into his mouth, making you gasp loud and tug harder at his hair.

“That’s it, baby,” Soobin groans, his tongue flicking quick against your clit. “Use my face.” Your hips rut against his mouth, desperate, and he lets you, his lips sucking greedily, tongue pressing flat and then circling, lapping up every bit of your arousal.

“Ah—Soobin!” you moan, your fingers tightening in his hair as your thighs tremble in his grip. Then you feel one of his big hands slide lower, his thick finger tracing your soaked entrance. Slowly, he pushes inside, stretching you, making your walls flutter instantly around him. You gasp, clutching at the sheets with your free hand.

“So tight.” he groans, muffled against your cunt as he thrusts his finger slowly in and out, curling it just right as he sucks your clit at the same time. Your thighs squeeze around his head, but his arms are too strong, keeping you open for him as he works his mouth and finger together. “That’s my girl…take it for me. Let me make you feel good.”

“S-Soobin—gunna cum!” He curses under his breath, his fingers pumping deeper as his tongue moves in circles over your swollen clit. Your thighs tremble against his shoulders, your nails tugging desperately at anywhere they can grab. “Yeah, baby—cum on my fingers. Be a good girl and let go for me, okay?”

Your back arches, a loud whimper slipping out as the knot inside you snaps, your walls clenching tight around his fingers. Wetness spills down his hand as your moans turn high and shaky, your whole body twitching from the release. “Mmh, so good for me, princess.” he murmurs against your slick folds, pressing soft kisses to your thighs while you’re still shaking.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, hovering over you, his lips shiny with your wetness. You’re still panting, eyes glassy, when your hand drifts down between your bodies and wraps around the thick bulge in his boxers. His breath hitches at the contact. You tug him closer, lips brushing his ear as you whisper, voice wrecked and needy, “Want your dick, daddy…”

The word slipped out before you could even stop yourself. He groaned low, his head dropping to your shoulder, breath hot against your skin. “Fuck…baby, do you even know what you just said to me?” His voice was broken, needy, almost whimpering with restraint.

You shyly nod, his big hand comes up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so your eyes meet his. “Say it again.” Your lips part and you whine. “Want your dick, daddy. Please.” That was it. His control snaps. He shoves his sweats down, his cock springing free—huge and so pretty, already leaking for you. Your breath caught, eyes wide at the sight.

Soobin chuckled low at your reaction, his thumb stroking your waist. “Yeah, princess, he’s scary, huh? Don’t worry, baby, I’ll help you take it. You can do it for me, can’t you?” You nodded frantically. “Y-yeah.” He guided you up, huge hands gripping your hips firmly, positioning you right over him as he rests his head on the headboard.

The fat tip of his cock pressed against your dripping entrance, making you gasp at the stretch before he was even inside. “Easy, baby...” he soothed, lips brushing your temple. “Sit down slow for me, nice and steady. Daddy’s got you.” You whimpered, clutching his broad shoulders for balance as he slowly eased you down.

Inch by inch, his cock stretches you open, your walls fluttering around him. You moan helplessly, overwhelmed by the fullness and the feel of his body beneath yours. “Thaaat’s it…good fucking girl.” he praises through gritted teeth, jaw clenched as he tries to stay still beneath you. “Taking me so well, princess. Look at you, made for this cock.” Your nails dig into him as you whine, finally sinking down until your thighs are flush against his.

The sensation makes your breath unsteady, and he hums, one big hand stroking up and down your back while the other holds you steady at the hips. When you start rocking slowly, testing the waters, he can't help himself. His hands go straight to your naked breasts, cupping them, rolling your nipples between his long fingers. “Fuck…look at you.” he groans, leaning down to kiss and suck one while his thumb teases the other.

You whine, moving faster now, grinding down on his cock, gasping at the delicious stretch. His grip on your hips tighten, guiding you, voice dropping. “That’s it, ride me just like that, baby. Use daddy’s cock, make yourself feel good. You’re perfect…so fucking perfect.” You lean, pressing your lips to his, letting out a needy whine as your lips collide. He kisses back hard, teeth grazing yours lightly, tongue teasing as his hips grind up to meet your movements.

You’re moaning into his mouth, nails clutching his shoulders, feeling him fill you completely. His lips trail down your neck and throat as you bounce, sucking dark, bruising hickies into your skin. “My sweet girl...” he whispers, his big hands roam over your naked body, “Binnie…don’t stop…please.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” he murmurs, before his fingers slide down to your clit. The sudden, firm pressure makes you clench around him and your back arches. “Ngh—shit—Binnie!” you gasp, bouncing faster now as he rubs you, one thumb circling your swollen bud while the other keeps your hips guided.

His cock throbs inside you with every movement, the friction combined with his fingers on your clit driving you wild. “That’s it…so fucking wet for me, princess.” he pants, sucking hard and hungry onto your neck. He leans up briefly to kiss you again, tongues tangling, groaning as you grind down on him.

“You love this, don’t you, baby?” he teases, dark eyes glued to yours. You whine in response, gasping, “Y-yeah…love it…love you…need you.” His one hand squeezes your ass while the other still rubs your clit in circles. You moan and cry out, grinding faster, bouncing as he keeps praising you, marking your collarbone, jaw, and neck.

“You’re mine to make feel good, princess, okay? No one elses.” he pants. Your head falls forward, lips brushing his neck as you nod desperately between moans, feeling him rub your clit harder. “M'cumming!” you cry, gripping him, bouncing faster.

“Yes, baby, come on…make a mess on my cock.” he groans, one hand tangling in your hair, the other keeping your hips pinned. “So perfect…so pretty…fuck, I can’t get enough of you.” Your body shudders violently around him, walls clenching on his cock as your second orgasm crashes over you, head thrown back, moaning his name nonstop.

After a few deep, sloppy thrusts, Soobin groans low, still needy for you. “Fuck…I—I can’t hold it much longer.” Before you can answer, his hands grip your body firmly and he flips you onto your back in one smooth motion. You gasp, thighs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he pins you in place.

“Shh…it’s okay, princess.” he murmurs, lips brushing across your forehead, cheek, jaw, and down to your lips, kissing you softly as he stays thrusting again. “You can take one more for daddy, hm? Please?” Your chest heaves, eyes wide and wet, lips trembling as you whine, “Y-yes…I—I can…”

He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, and murmurs against your skin, “Atta girl.” Your body trembles at the slow, teasing thrusts, hips bucking a little against him. His lips roam your face constantly, soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, jawline, and neck. You whine, grinding desperately, feeling the stretch and fullness again. “B-Binnie…s-so big…s-so good…”

“Yeah baby, feel how full you are…can feel every little inch of you—fuck…” Your moans grow higher, whinier, as the knot in your belly tightens until you’re nearly sobbing. Tears falling on your cheeks as he presses his forehead to yours.“B-Binnie—ngh—oh my god—!” you cry out, eyes fluttering shut.

Your last orgasm finally breaks, shattering around him with a strangled moan as your walls pulsate and clamp down, pulling him in deeper. You sob his name, thighs shaking around his waist. He kisses your cheeks, your nose, your lips, groaning as he feels you clench around him. “Fucking perfect, baby—squeezing me so tight—gonna make me cum—”

Your voice is breathless, needy and desperate as you whimper, “Please—Soobin—please cum inside—!!” That single plea wrecks him. His thrusts falter, hips stuttering as he buries himself to the hilt, head dropping to your shoulder with a groan. “Holy fuck, baby—yes!” His cock throbs deep inside you as hot strings of cum spill into you, filling you until it drips down your thighs.

“So warm…so fucking good.” he pants, forehead pressed to your neck as he holds himself inside, not wanting to let go. He cups your face with both hands, tilting your head so he can kiss you softly, over and over—sweet, lingering pecks that make your chest ache. “My pretty girl.” he whispers against your lips, voice softer now, almost tender. “Always so good for me…”

You blink up at him through wet lashes, dazed, breathless from your orgasm. He kisses away the last of your tears, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks, whispering gentle things as his cum slowly drips out of you, his hips still pressed against yours like he doesn’t want to leave your body. Your body is still trembling faintly when he finally eases out of you, the warmth of his release spilling down.

He murmurs a soft “shhh” and kisses your damp cheeks, grabbing a tissue to gently clean you before pulling the blanket over both of you. He settles against the pillows, tugging you into his chest like you belong there, one big hand stroking lazily through your hair. His heartbeat is steady, grounding, and his lips press against the top of your head every so often. “You did so good for me, princess.” he whispers against your hair. “My sweet girl, so beautiful.”

You whimper softly, curling closer into him. Your voice is fragile, almost shy when you admit, “You make me feel so safe, Soobin. I want you so bad…I’ve never felt like this before.” His chest tightens, and his arms squeeze you tighter. He tilts your chin up so you’re looking at him, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “You’ll always be safe with me,” he says firmly. “I’ll take care of you. No matter what.”

There’s a pause, his gaze searching yours, before he exhales and confesses, “At first…I thought I shouldn’t feel this way about you. That maybe I was too old for you. But—fuck, baby, I can’t help it. I’m head over heels for you. I think I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you.” Your lips part in surprise, but then you’re smiling through tears, heart swelling at the raw honesty in his eyes. You lean up to kiss him, slow and sweet, and he kisses you back like he never wants to stop, like the words he just said weren’t enough to show how much he means it.

a/n: i kinda lowkey hate this one ngl, and i tried my best not to make the daddy kink weird but i think it's weird ughhh idk yall. hope u enjoyed.

𓏸⠀ 𓈒 check out my masterlist .ᐟ get added in my taglist .ᐟ

It was a cycle.

A routine — a fantastic, addicting cycle that Yeonjun had.

It was a night like any other, in your apartment after work — the sun long set as you're cleaning up after making dinner, Yeonjun's portion stashed on the microwave for when he returns — but you know it would sit there longer.

You feel his presents in the room before you hear him — before you can even mutter his lips are on yours, his plush lips utterly consuming you whole. His hands are holding onto your face as if he's trying to ensure you won't leave, moaning into your mouth. The kiss is sloppy and needy — pathetically nipping on your bottom lip as one of his hands slip beneath your shorts —

And that's exactly what gets you into this situation.

Every

Single

Time.

You could barely make it to the bedroom — Yeonjun too desperate for you after an excruciating schedule, tumbling through the doors of your bedroom, pushing you onto the unmade bed crawling ontop of you.

His lips promptly attached back to yours, one of his hands holding your chin up to meet his kiss. You kiss back instantly, sucking on his plump bottom lip earning a small whimper from him. Both of you fighting for dominance in the kiss, both of you desperately chasing each other. His tongue glides over your lip, his tongue meeting yours as he moans at the feeling of your tongue against his.

When he pulls back unwillingly his lips are slicked with both of your spit, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you. Your own lips swollen, puffy and wet, parted — trying to catch your breath. He doesn't let you rest for too long. His fingers skim at the hem of your oversized pajama shirt, which is actually his.

He pulls the shirt off your frame, letting it fall onto the floor, unbothered about wherever it ended up. Yeonjun's eyes linger on you, your buds perked from the sudden change in temperature, he lets out a sound edging between a groan and a whine as he drinks you in, absolutely captivated by you under him.

You can barely breathe before his lips are back on you, pressing chase kisses on your lips, his need to feel you, all of you, making it impossible for him to stay still. His lips quickly attach to your neck, kissing down the column of your neck before kissing down the side of your neck slowly, sucking faint marks in his path.

When he finally pulls back from your neck he lingers; you can faintly feel his warm breath centimeters from your marked skin. When Yeonjun finally looks at you his expression is dazed, drunk on you.

"God you're beautiful.." His voice is strained, barely able to contain himself — you can feel him hard against your thigh, trying desperately to not rut into the soft plush skin of your thigh.

you let out a muddled comment he can't understand, too dazed and spent on you to fully grasp anything besides how you taste and feel. You can feel Yeonjun's hands all over you, his touch leaving a burning feeling over your warm skin, his fingers dip into your pajama shorts feeling you through your soaked panties — doing nothing to stop him from feeling you.

"J-jjunie —" you gasp out at the sudden feeling of his fingers catching at your clothed cunt, arching slightly into his touch making him let out a shakey breath.

"Fuck, you're unreal — all this f'me huh, baby?" Yeonjun coos in your ear, his voice unsteady — you can tell he's barely hanging on, his overwhelming need to be as close to you as possible.

Yeonjun's lips attach back to your skin, moaning against it as he kisses down your neck — leaving a sloppy trail of spit in his path. He's practically vibrating with need — his desire to feel you, to be consumed by you. Your perfume, whatever shampoo is lingering from your hair —its addicting.

He mumbles incoherent praises or nonsense into your skin as he moves down your chest, worshiping you with every kiss, his slicked lips kissing every inch of you like a prayer — like your a goddess he's vowed to forever — which you are to him.

If you allowed him — he would kiss you till his lips went numb — till all you could feel was him.

His lips move down your chest with devotion — his free hand holding onto your hip, grounding himself and you. he ghosts over one of your buds — making you let out a gasp, your fingers curling into his hair.

His teeth graze over the sensitive bud — savoring the whiny gasps you let out, Yeonjuns lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue pressing down on the bud — the sensation of his warm mouth on you makes you feel floaty — like if you or him let go, you'll drift away.

His teeth keep grazing the bud — moaning into your chest, fingers tightening on your hip as he relishes in how you feel against him, all for him, only him.

When he finally leaves your bud, its not for long — immediately attaching to your neglected nipple, giving it the same attention.

Yeonjun only pulls away when you pull him off — your tits feeling sensitive and leaving you needing more desperately.

When you pull him off, his eyes meet yours — dark and low, you can see the hunger in him. God he looks unreal, his pouty lips bruised and glossy — cheeks tinged a soft pink.

His lips don't stray from you, connecting to the flesh of your chest — sucking purple marks into the soft skin, nipping at it before pressing soft, reverend kisses on the forming bruises.

He kisses all over you — you can feel the cold air nip at the wet skin trailing from him, kissing all over your chest, down your torso. His body moving with him to press kisses above your belly button — his fingers skimming the edge of your shorts.

Heat radiates off you — the room stuffy and hot from the summer night and Yeonjun's body radiating pure warms.

His lips hover over the waistband, briefly looking up at you before pulling both your shorts and panties off your body in one motion.

You instinctively trying and clamp your thighs shut but he stops you, settling in between your thighs — pulling your legs over his shoulders.

He lets out a gutted sound — in between a groan and a whimper. God he needed this, needed you. Like you were the forbidden fruit he desperately craved.

His nose bumps your clit as he nuzzles into you — his tongue diving in, linking a long stripe up your cunt.

You hear him moan against you — like you're the one in between his legs. His lips attach to the sensitive bud — sucking hard, causing you to arching into him, pushing your cunt even more into his face.

A sharp whimper escapes your lips without warning. His lips detach from your clit, his tongue lapping up all your juices — his tongue prodding your entrance. Your breath ragged as you buck your hips into his face, causing his nose to brush against your clit, pulling a strained whimper from you.

"So good f'me huh, baby?" Yeonjun mumbles against your pussy — not sure if he's talking to you or it but fuck you can't be bothered to care. His hold on you is tight, not letting you squirm away even an inch — pulling you further down on his face. His mouth switching between licking through your folds sucking up all you have to give and toying with your needy clit.

It feels like he's trying to consume you whole — like he's trying to merge you both together so he can't tell where he ends and you start.

Your fingers tug on the strands of his hair, fidgeting and squirming under him — the pleasure is so so good. Your legs start feeling like mush — only aware they are there from Yeonjuns bruising grip to keep them around him.

Usually you would feel guilty, worried you're going to suffocate him but fuck.

The way he's devouring you — moaning into your pussy, you would and do think he's enjoying this more than you.

His tongue breaches your hole, pulling a loud moan from the back of your throat. The room filled with the smell of sex and the wet squelching of him worshiping your pussy. You can't even feel embarrassed — Yeonjun's movements and just him making you feel dizzy and unable to think of anything but his tongue and the orgasm he's coaxing you to.

Yeonjuns tongue is fucking into you at a speed you can barely comprehend, the sloppy and hungry movements are so good — and every so often at a particularly deep thrust of his tongue his nose nudges at your sore clit.

The way Yeonjun's moving — he's hungry. Like he's been waiting for this since he woke up, which he probably has, you make jokes about him being obsessed but to him — this is his solace. The way you feel under him — soft and so compliant to anything he wants, and fuck how you taste. He craves you after a day of schedules and after weeks of touring — nothing can soothe him like being in between your legs pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you.

And fuck — he gets off to it.

Yeonjun can feel his cock — rock hard at this point, all he can do is mindlessly hump into the sheets — the stimulation and your thighs around his head is enough for him.

Your nail nearly dig into his scalp from the pleasure — and when you manage to open your eyes to look at him you can't stop the moan that slips. The bottom of his face covered in wetness — slick and spit, his lips pink and plump covered in your juices. Fuck — the blissed out look on his face, his eyes scrunched in pleasure, you can faintly feel the movements of him humping helplessly into the mattress.

Every sound and touch feels amplified, Yeonjuns moans against your pussy causing vibrations that can only make you whimper in overwhelming pleasure. You can feel your orgasm coming quick, the knot in your stomach tighten with every lick and thrust of his skilled tongue.

Yeonjun can also feel his orgasm approaching — the taste of you and the friction from the desperate humping makes his brain go into overdrive — yearning to taste you, feel you come undone for him. His tongue attacks your sensitive clit — the unexpected jolt of pleasure sending you straight to your orgasm.

Yeonjun helps you rude out the orgasm, his tongue licking your slit and catching on your clit as you desperately grind against his face. Your thighs tighten around his head — your ears ringing as a string of incoherent moans and whimpers flea your lips.

As your orgasm slows so does Yeonjuns movements, not trying to overwhelm you. When your legs finally stop shaking uncontrollably and you can actually think without it being fuzzy. Your grip on his locks loosens, your chest rising and falling fast, trying to catch your breath from the overwhelming orgasm.

When you open your eyes you look down at Yeonjun — whose resting his head on your thigh, his gaze already on yours, with a shit eating grin.

"This is where you say thank you~" Yeonjun teases with a wide, fox like grin. You shove his head slightly letting out a breathed laugh.

'Fuck you." You say breathlessly with a small small in your lips.

"Maybe later." He says swiftly making you click your tongue, rolling your eyes at him.

When your head clears up slightly you sit up a bit — your hand making its way to him which he quickly grabs. pressing a kiss to your wrist.

"Jun —" you're about to protest when his free hand presses you back onto the mattress —unable to fight back, still weak from your orgasm.

"Don't worry 'bout me." He mumbles into the skin of your thigh, pressing a kiss onto it.

You're about to complain again when you realise why. "Oh"

"Yeah, 'oh'." He smirks against your skin before kissing up your thigh making his way into your cunt again.

"I gotta clean up my mess, pretty girl."

This is the last time, you swear to yourself, that you would willingly participate in a conversation with the nosy middle-aged aunties in your apartment complex. 

"You know you're running out of time," Mrs. Lee lectures. "It'll be good for you to have kids soon while you still have your youth."

Mrs. Park nods knowingly next to her as if her friend spouted something incredibly profound. What was supposed to be a quiet walk to retrieve a package from the mail room had once again turned into a conversation impossible to wiggle out of. 

"It's not our place to pry," Mrs. Park chimes in. "Your husband would probably want you to have one sooner rather than later, right? Hell! At his age, he’s old enough to even be your father-"

Mrs. Lee punches her blabbering friend's shoulder lightly in an attempt to shut her up. Mrs. Park rubs her shoulder, flustered but taking the hint.

"Thank you for your wonderful advice," you muster a polite smile, "If that’s all, I'll be heading back up. I hope you two have a good day."

You walk past the two with a small package in hand, turning the corner of the hallway. Being curt with them would be the only way to escape their intrusive grasp. However, you find yourself slowing your steps when you hear bits and pieces of their lowered voices.

"You!" Mrs. Lee grumbles at Mrs. Park. “Why would you mention such a sensitive topic to that poor girl?! I’m sure she sees how big their age gap is! There's no need to bring it up.”

Mrs. Park grumbles.

“That’s the least of her worries when it comes to that husband of hers,” Mrs. Park scoffs. “You know, I heard from the security guy that he’s been coming home late every night, all disheveled with bruises all over his neck..."

You hear Mrs. Lee gasp, and you can’t help it when your grip on the cardboard box tightens.

"No wonder she's looked so out of sorts these days,” Mrs. Lee sighs. “She used to have such a bright personality. Much prettier back then, too…"

You grind your teeth, tempted to walk back and ask the two to continue their conversation in front of you instead. You save yourself the embarrassment and walk towards the elevator. 

It’s not like anything they said was a lie. There was no use in getting angry about the truth being spoken out loud; you convince yourself.

You sit at the dinner table, watching as the clock strikes midnight. He probably won't come home tonight either, you think to yourself. 

Dinner is laid out so meticulously, two perfectly cooked salmon glistening with soy sauce glaze at the center of the table. All done by you to appease a husband who doesn’t even want to be home most of the time.

It’s the third night in a row he's been staying over at his lover's place. 

Married life with Kwon Sehoon, a man you met through your parents, was ultimately a passionless one.

Straddled in debt from starting a failed business, your parents had married you off to an older man who was willing to pay a pretty penny for a young and beautiful wife. 

You remember that day clearly, with you coming back home from an evening lecture, standing in front of your kneeling parents who begged you to save them from their financial ruin. The parents you once thought were invincible to pain and suffering were groveling right in front of you. So afraid of what the loan sharks would do to your parents, of having to pick up the pieces of their debt if they up and disappeared, you agreed. It seemed like the easy way out. 

Sehoon seemed nice enough during your first meeting. He told you almost immediately how he didn’t like women his age.

"Younger women don't drain you like the older ones do," he once said.

You remember feeling flattered at first, not knowing the gravity of his words until you really got to know him.

You got married shortly after completing your degree, and at first, Sehoon was absolutely fixated on you. He doted on you like a pet, showering you with gifts and compliments. He lived quite modestly for someone with an affluent job. His apartment, the one you live in now, was practically empty before you came into his life. He gave you free rein to decorate as you pleased and insisted that you buy anything you wanted with his card. 

He asked very little of you in return; all you had to do was be a good wife for him. And as you sit by yourself tonight, pondering his return, you feel like you failed even in that regard. Four years into marriage, you noticed the signs of waning interest trickle into everyday life.

His initial gestures of kindness led you to feel something akin to love towards him, just thankful that he didn’t treat your parents badly, like the loan sharks did. Though now that you look back, your affection seemed more akin to Stockholm Syndrome. 

Your parents had promised him a warm and caring stay-at-home wife. At the ripe age of 45, he expected a lot from you– more than you could possibly give in your early 20s. Inexperienced nights of lackluster sex would drive him into fits of annoyance, giving you days of silent treatment when you would reject his advances to explore unsavory kinks in the bedroom. 

You always tried to pick up the pieces, changing parts of yourself to match his ideal type of girl. Pleasant, obedient, and doll-like. It never worked.

He started accusing you of using him if you bought too many pastries from a bakery, immediately regulating your credit card use to groceries and household items. He started murmuring insults in hushed tones, knowing full well you could hear him. 

Everything you thought he was crumbled within the first year of marriage. Sehoon morphed into someone unrecognizable. You never fathomed being in a situation where a man who wanted you so badly now wanted to act like you never existed. You never thought he could betray you after all the hoops he went through to have your hand in marriage.

You remember that night, just a year ago, when you heard his quiet voice in the bathroom. He was talking to someone over the phone. You couldn’t help but listen by the door that was slightly left ajar. Sehoon had been in such a bad mood at the time, lashing out at you at every chance he got.

"I miss you," he sighs lovingly, and you feel your heart sink. You hadn't heard him talk in such a gentle tone in years. "She's such a prude, you know? Always tenses up when I touch her. She can't even get me hard. I wish I were with you instead."

He cackled as the pit that you've always felt in your stomach when you were with him expanded. Though the affection you had for him had already waned by then, your husband's infidelity still felt like a shot to the chest. You wasted so many years trying to be who he wanted you to be, only for him to toss you to the side like an old toy with no batteries.

You were ashamed to say you followed him once during his escapades, watching across a dark alleyway as he entered a seedy hotel with a young beauty in his arms. Though she looked nothing like you, she reminded you of yourself. She seemed so nervous, so eager to please that treacherous man. All you could feel was pity, unsure if it was more for her or for yourself.

"You know I can't leave her right now, my love," he hummed into the phone, and you couldn’t help but gag. "I took her parents' debt in my name. I'm still paying it off. I feel nothing with her, I promise! Bitch can't even give a proper blowjob. She’s nothing like you."

Disgust seeped through your whole body that night. You couldn't even bear to face him in the bed you shared, tears welling up at the thought of having to be with him for any longer.

Your parents pleaded with you to hold out until the debt was fully repaid, until he no longer had control over them. Sehoon, ever the calculating person he was, wrote a clause stating that if you were to ever ask for a divorce, you would have to pay him back the remaining debt he still owed the loan sharks.

With no job and no escape plan, you had fallen into his trap. Sehoon would be the one to decide whether he ever wanted to set you free.

You wait another 30 minutes, packing the leftovers on the table into the refrigerator when he doesn't show up. Your duties as a wife did not and could not stop even after finding out about his affair. Sehoon reported every mistake and any sign of resistance to your parents. He knew the power they held over you, about your unwavering need to appease them. They scold you over the stories they hear from him, and you attempt to right every wrong to mold yourself into what he wanted.

But he doesn't know one thing, you think to yourself as you head to your shared bedroom. You lock the door, just in case.

You pull your phone out and open Twitter without hesitation. Typing away, you draft up a post that reads like every other one of your complaints about your mundane life.

housewifeblues: husband left me home alone again… how can you leave your wife like this, feeling so lonely?

But you know that’s not why 2.4k people follow you. 

You peel your shirt off your body, unclasping your bra and positioning yourself under the dim lights of the city outside your window. You let out a deep breath, psyching yourself up for what you’re about to do. You push out and accentuate the curves of your breasts as you arch your back forward.

You snap a few pictures with only the lower half of your face and naked chest visible.

You bite your nails as you hesitate to hit the ‘post’ button. You do it after a few seconds of indecisiveness. It’s not like it’s your first post, so why do you still feel so nervous? To Sehoon, you may be undesirable, but your online persona was worshipped like a goddess by so many.

The attention and validation of those who lusted after you on the internet filled in the hole of loneliness that Sehoon had opened in you. 

The noticeable birthmark above your breasts was a point of self-consciousness since the start of your marriage. Sehoon always pushed you to have it removed, stating it was unsightly against your skin. But the thousands of followers who complimented it constantly led you to cancel that appointment. It gave you a sense of pride knowing that you could drown out your husband's harsh words with the positivity of your online fans.

Your followers enjoyed how openly you talked about your miserable marriage, your qualms about being a housewife, and your husband's infidelity. Your posts garnered traction from those who relate to your struggles and those who fetishize them. At some point, you stopped caring what kind of person interacted with your posts. You just wanted to bask in some flattering words for once.

The likes had started to roll in, but at an abnormal pace. Since when was your engagement this high? You see in your notification tab that someone named "yawnszn" retweeted your post almost immediately after you uploaded it.

yawnszn: if he doesn’t want you, i volunteer as tribute

You catch yourself chuckling. Who was this?

Clicking on his profile picture, a page pops up of a bright red-haired man with a mole underneath his right eye, wearing a black face mask. 300k followers? And he was reposting your content? You rub your eyes to check if you were seeing correctly.

Intrigued, you scroll down and you almost drop your phone from the shocking imagery that fills your screen. The pinned video on his feed was of him, stroking his perfectly curved length with such focused concentration. He was thick beyond comprehension, veins so beautifully etched on the underside of his heaviness.

You hesitantly click on the video, cheeks warming at the lewd sounds that start to echo through the bedroom.

"You like that?" he would say in between grunts of pleasure. "I bet you do, huh? Bet you wanna make a mess all over me."

His brows were furrowed, glistening chest heaving as he resisted the urge to buck his hips up into his large hands. If only you could see him with that stupid mask off.

The stranger was methodical with his strokes, slowing his relentless pace when he teetered too close to his high. He was edging himself into a stronger and more drawn-out climax, rolling his head back onto his chair as Adam's apple bobbed up and down. 

Though his eyes were covered by wispy bangs, you could feel their intensity through the screen. The way he squinted and scrunched his nose in pleasure, staring daggers into the camera. He could tell you to lick the bottom of his shoe and you would probably do it. 

Wait–what?

You exit the app in a hurry, attempting to calm yourself. You were having very bad thoughts, ones you never even felt with your own husband. It wasn't right to think these things about another man, you tell yourself, as your thighs clench together from where you sat on your bed.

When Sehoon surprisingly comes home at 4 a.m., with his back turned towards you on the bed, you pretend to sleep. You replay the video of yawnszn in your head over and over again. You can't help but feel pathetic to feel so hot and heavy over a man retweeting you while your husband still reeks of another woman.

As Sehoon snores loudly next to you, you find yourself typing another post.

housewifeblues: he’s home with hickies on his neck... why does he even bother coming back?

It’s almost instant, the masked man’s reply. You bring a hand to your mouth to stifle a gasp.

yawnszn: let’s make it even. i can leave some on your pretty neck, too

You suppress a giggle that threatens to leave your lips. You stare back and forth between Sehoon’s hunched back and your phone to this masked man’s profile. There’s no harm in flattery, is there?

It's like an addiction, scrolling through his page on your burner account. You don't even follow him back on your main, but you can't help but refresh for more content. He posts daily, with livestreams every Friday. You tune in when Sehoon isn't around, which is almost all the time. Guilt is etched into your heart whenever you see his notifications, despite your husband's own infidelity not affecting his own psyche.

"Such fucking sluts," Yeonjun would scold his chat with his red hair pushed seductively away from his forehead. He plunges a plush fleshlight roughly down his pulsing cock. "You wish this were you riding me, huh? Too fucking bad."

The urge to touch yourself worsens after each livestream, but you hold out. You couldn't let yourself stoop to Sehoon's level. It’s not like you enjoyed posting photos with racy captions, you promise! It’s just a hobby, one that elicited flirty responses from a man you were very attracted to. You admit, maybe some photos were posted for him. He just didn’t know it.

During a livestream, you remember him talking about his love for doggy style. The next day, you miraculously posted a photo of your face planted on a pillow with your underwear-clad body arched eagerly with your ass in the sky.

housewifeblues: never been fucked in this position.

You swear it isn’t just for him specifically, even when you can’t wipe the stupid grin off your face at his comment the next day.

yawnszn: i think you need to take the picture at a better angle from behind… need help with that?

Even as you squirm in the shower and in the bed at the thought of a red-haired man plowing into you, you vowed to not be tempted to interact with him on your main account.

You were better than that, you convinced yourself. Better than Sehoon.

You're in the bed this time, lacy pink bra in full display on your phone’s camera. Your nipples are peaking through, and you lay your hand atop your chest to emphasize their shape. Tonight, you wanted to tease your followers. 

yawnszn’s constant interactions with your page fueled you to post more frequently. You found different angles and poses, anything that would let you stay relevant (and always on yawnszn’s feed). At some point, you noticed his likes and retweets were filled with only you.

It made your heart flutter at the thought of him being just as obsessed with you as you were with him.

And even better, it was a Friday. You chuckle to yourself as you lie on your stomach, clicking on his profile like clockwork. His room looked emptier than usual, with boxes piled up in the corner. The red-haired man's toned body finally comes into frame, gleaming with sweat from the warm lighting of his floor lamp. He looked like he had just finished working out.

"Wow," he stares at the chat, voice muffled by his mask. "Must be real fucking horny to join so early."

You let out a chuckle. It felt like he was actually talking to you.

"Some new names in here," he says as he sinks into his chair, carefully unzipping his jeans. His abdomen glistened with sweat, white briefs peeking through his unzipped jeans. He reads comment after comment, palming his bulge almost mindlessly.

You groan in frustration, wishing he were quicker at taking his stupid pants off. You feel almost compelled to comment just that– and so you did.

You: you’re teasing us…

His eyes scan the screen, and you can tell he seems genuinely shocked by something despite his masked expression.

"Well, look who it is," he laughs darkly as he starts to grip his clothed member more roughly. "Thanks for tuning in, housewifeblues. I didn't take you for such an eager viewer, pretty girl."

Your blood turns cold. Did he just say your username? But that couldn't be possible. You were on your burner account. Unless-

You scroll up to your comment, clearly showing the profile picture of half of your face and cleavage as the commenter. Burying your face into your pillow to let out a scream of sheer humiliation, you kick your feet in the air.

This can't be real.

"I'm flattered," yawnszn continues, not knowing the stages of grief you were going through. "I've been thinking about those pretty tits all day."

He pulls out his throbbing cock. It looked painful, you thought. His fingers traced over his angry tip, red and beating like it ached for release. 

You swallow, mouth watering at the view. His head was leaned back now, stroking himself languidly as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip. You clench your pillow.

"Why don't we have some fun together, hm?" he asks teasingly, his hand pumping with half the force he usually uses. "I bet I could make you feel so good, baby. We can make your useless ass husband watch if you want."

You let out a small whimper, scanning over the comments from equally shocked viewers.

"god I'd pay good money to see you two fuck"

"me next?"

“is this ur kink?”

"stop talking about another bitch!!!"

He chuckles, reading the last one.

"My jealous babies," he teases, tugging his hair back with his unoccupied hand and showing his beautiful forehead. "There’s plenty of me to go around."

A wave of possessiveness washes over you, suddenly conscious that this wasn't just for you. He was selling his fantasy to all the viewers who watched him. There was no affection there, only the delusions of your touch-starved self. You feel a sudden pang of guilt in your chest. You wanted this stranger so badly, but you couldn’t have him. You're married. And it wasn't up to anyone else but Sehoon to change that.

"I'd fuck you on every surface I could get you on," he sighs out so sensually, pumping himself in a steady rhythm. "Have you begging for my cock until you're dependent on it."

Though tears well in your eyes from the mix of humiliation and regret, you rest your head on the pillow and grind against your mattress to the sounds of his arousal. 

"And you'd thank me each time I give it to you, wouldn’t you?" he laughs dryly. "Because that's all you want, right? Want me deep down in your throat. In your pussy. You'd even let me fuck your ass too, huh, baby?"

The comments flood in with crazed sentences, and you are no better.

You whimper at the vulgarity of his words, back arched against absolutely nothing. You wish he were positioned right behind you with those long fingers of his curling inside your deepest parts, coaxing your climax out of you. You’re almost tempted to slide a hand up your shirt, until you hear a familiar jangling of keys.

Quickly standing up, you exit that God forsaken app. Smoothing out your clothes, you prepare yourself to be ignored by Sehoon once again. He moves past you to walk to the bathroom, no greeting exchanged whatsoever. Your cheeks warm with frustration.

"Dinner is in the fridge," you say plainly. You sit back down on the bed, grabbing the phone to make sure his livestream was no longer playing. A few minutes pass, and you mindlessly stare at the wall as you hear your husband grumbling and mumbling in the bathroom. A notification pops up on your phone.

yawnszn has sent you a private message.

You feel the acceleration of your pulse almost immediately and check it against your better judgment.

yawnszn: come back, baby. i wasn't done with you yet. was putting on that show just for you ;)

You cover your mouth to stifle a scream, but immediately straighten your posture and harden your expression when Sehoon comes out of the bathroom. He reeks of cigarette smoke and cheap motel sheets. 

“Would it hurt you to smile once in a while?" he sneers. “Look so fucking creepy all the time.”

You muster up a small grin, one that doesn't meet the eyes. All he does is sigh. 

"Can't even follow simple instructions," he grumbles, slamming the door behind him. "Just leeching off me like a fucking parasite..."

You purse your lips. Sehoon always knew which words would hurt you the most, like he practices them in the mirror before he throws them at you. At one point, you wanted to be good for him. Wanted to show him that you could be the respectable wife he always wanted you to be. 

So, how the hell did it end up like this?

What were you doing, squealing like a teenage girl over some camboy on the internet? You shake your head rapidly, quickly deleting the message yawnszn sent. You didn't even get a chance to put your phone back on your lap when you heard another buzz. 

It's him again.

yawnszn: i wanna show you how a real man could make you feel. won't you let me?

And though you wanted nothing more, you leave him on ‘seen’.

An entire week goes by, and it was another Friday you couldn’t help but anticipate. You tried to stop viewing his page, you really did. But when the nights got cold and loneliness seeped through your bones, you couldn’t help but reread the messages yawnszn would boldly send you.

Today, you vowed not to think about that red-haired devil.

As you walk past the boxes stacked in the hallway, you make your way towards the unit right next to your apartment with Sehoon. A new neighbor was moving in. From sandwiches to tea cookies, you had spent your entire day making treats for the new addition to the ever-so-nosy apartment complex. With a cautious knock at the door, you stand in front of the unit with a basket of your handmade foods. 

Sehoon had conditioned you to be a good neighbor, never wanting Mr. Do's family on the second floor to look better than him after they gave everyone in the building a bottle of whiskey for New Year's. He forced you to greet new tenants and make cards for everyone's birthdays so he could soak in the compliments of having such a loving and kind wife. Meanwhile, he never even bothered to learn the names of the people on your floor.

He always assumed with your "immense amount of free time as a housewife" that all of these responsibilities would be handled by you. You roll your eyes at the thought. He couldn't even bother to take showers to get rid of his mistress's rancid scent. Did he really think people in this apartment thought he was a good husband?

You almost knock again until your new neighbor finally opens the door. He's tall, wearing a tight-fitting black hoodie. It wasn't zipped up fully, and his naked chest was slightly visible underneath. Was he wearing nothing under? 

You look up and tense at the sight. Red hair and black face mask. Mole under his right eye. You blink rapidly, almost as if his face would morph if you did it fast enough. It can't be… But who else could fit his description much better? This had to be yawnszn.

“Hello?” he greets, confused. His voice sends shivers down your spine. Was it wrong to assume that every strikingly red-haired man with fierce eyes and wearing a mask was your online crush? 

"Hi," you say, stomping down the stutter that wanted to come out. "I'm [Y/N], your next-door neighbor. My husband and I wanted to welcome you to the building with some treats."

He looks past the top of your head as if searching for someone behind you. 

"Where is this husband?" he asks in a teasing manner. You bite back a frown. Wasn't it a little inappropriate to ask these things?

"He's at work," you say plainly. 

"I'll only give my thanks to you then," he replies, resting his body on the doorframe. You feel electricity course through your veins as he brushes your hand softly, taking the basket from your tightened grip.

"I would love to repay you," he says, leaning his head toward your flustered face. You shy away from his gaze, suddenly uncomfortable that you're wearing a V-neck shirt as he looks down at you. You sense a flash of emotion in his gaze, quickly replaced by a gentle stare.

Did he know it was you? 

No, that’s ridiculous, you thought to yourself. How could he even tell?

"No need," you reply, embarrassingly quickly as you take a step back. "We don't expect anything in return."

"I insist," he says slyly. "Once I'm all settled in, I'll come see you."

He looks around the hallway again before bringing his masked mouth to your ear.

“Hopefully, when he’s not home.”

You freeze at his words as he closes the door with a small wave and a mischievous glint in his eyes. As soon as you rush to your apartment, you cross-examine his profile picture with the memory you had of your neighbor’s features. He didn’t even tell you his name! You scream into your living room cushion. You shake your head. 

Nothing will come out of this, you try to convince yourself. He was just being friendly. 

You stand up, ready to busy yourself with chores around the house to distract yourself from the feeling of dread forming in the pit of your stomach. He said he was stopping by, and you couldn't tell whether the funny feeling in your stomach was butterflies or something far more sinister… You touch your ear from where you felt his warm breath. Perhaps desire?

Later that day, you wait anxiously for his stream to start. Your back was against the headboard of your bed, twiddling your fingers from anticipation. Triple-checking, you made sure you were on your burner account this time. You click the notification as soon as it comes, and his empty room comes into view.

You stiffen at the new format, not at all like his old set-up. In fact, the walls and floor were the exact same shade as your own room. You groan, looking at the wall that faced your new neighbor’s place. That guy was definitely yawnszn. 

His masked figure is already naked, save for the white towel draped around his waist and his signature black mask.

"Moved into my new place," he says to the chat. "Like my new room?"

He scans the comments and sighs in disappointment. 

"Did I scare my baby away?" Your eyes widen. Was he looking for your username?

You can tell he's pouting through the mask, and you can't help but smile. Fuck. Why was this man so irresistibly hot and annoyingly cute at the same time?

"I don’t wanna do solo streams anymore, guys," he whines, his bulge already evident through the thin towel. You wonder how he's able to get hard so quickly.

"Wanna show y'all a different side of me," he sighs, dropping his towel to reveal the growing heaviness underneath. "Show you I'm not just all talk."

You clench your thighs, tensing when his large palm finds his towering length. He was always so vocal during his sessions, and even now, as he has barely just started, he was a mumbling mess. He’s seated now, clenched eyes in full view as he strokes himself in drawn-out movements.

Your eyes widen. You can hear him, but not just on video. His sounds reverberated through the wall. It's like you’re in the room with him as he's hunched over, drowning in his own pleasure.

"Don't be jealous when I bring someone in, okay?" he teases the chat that’s filled with comments of disapproval. "Just think it's you that I'll be fucking. Imagine how I’d cum inside a real pussy. How I’d shove it all back in. Doesn’t that sound nice? Making that pussy full of me."

You bite your lip at the thought, clenching the sheets beneath you as you hear his dirty whispers from the wall. 

You didn’t want that, you thought to yourself darkly. You didn’t want to see him, moaning and talking so filthy like this, with anyone. You couldn’t bear it. You were already suffering at the thought of your husband fucking his much younger mistress, you couldn’t lose yawnszn too. He was the only sense of freedom you felt in your dull, repeating life.

As crazy as you felt, you sat up to press your ear against the wall to hear him better. Your fingers dangerously ghost over your pajama shorts.

"Wanna have sex so bad, baby," he whines out. "Won't you let me?"

You let out a squeak. You can't take your eyes off his perfectly sculpted body, nor could you take your ear off the wall that separated the two of you in real life. You feel like a sick, deranged pervert. Your twisted desires are egging you on as your hand trails down your stomach and into your underwear. Your fingers run up your slit, already so wet from just watching him.

"I'd have you on your fucking knees," he sighs out, letting out that grunting sound he does when he's nearing his climax. "Take you from behind. You'd have to beg me to get off of you. I'd be in that pussy every day, every fucking night."

Your eyes roll back at the thought. Your pace quickens with his, drawing rapid circles on your swollen bud. You're grinding down against your own fingers, searching for something that you knew only this intoxicating stranger could give you. In some way, the fact that you are masturbating next to your oppressive husband’s pillow made everything feel that much more erotic. He doesn’t need to know how another man makes you feel.

"Gonna cum," his nose scrunches. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

As white, hot liquid spurts out of his beautiful cock, you let out a silent scream as you come undone yourself. With your right hand sticky with your climax, you feel tears well up in your eyes. What the fuck were you doing?

The next day, you see your mysteriously masked neighbor in the halls. It was instinct to give a small smile, tensing as he approached your cowering figure.

“Do you need help with that?” he asks. You blink back your confusion as he gestures at your fistful of groceries. You completely forgot you were holding them the moment you saw him.

“N-no,” you reply a little too quickly. “I’m almost at my door.” 

He chuckles. He attempts to grab one of the heavy-looking ones from you, but you dodge him just in time. The red-haired man had no idea what you did last night because of him. You felt dirty just being in his presence.

“I’m happy to help, you know?” he insists. “You don’t have to carry that all by yourself.”

Your grip on the groceries tightens. In all the years you were married to Sehoon, he never offered to help you with anything once. If it had nothing to do with finances or working, the rest was handled by you. It was sad to feel so happy hearing such minuscule gestures of kindness come from your neighbor of all people.

“I’ll let you know if I ever need it,” you smile at him, genuinely. To your surprise, he ruffles you on the head affectionately. He leans down, his face at the same level as yours.

“I’m Yeonjun,” he whispers as if he were saying a deep, dark secret. “I forgot to tell you yesterday.”

His name. He finally told you his name. How beautiful it sounds on those unseen lips. 

His eyes meet yours, and for a second, you just want to lean in and kiss him through that stupid mask. But he stands up straight, towering over you once again.

“Don’t be a stranger, [Y/N],” he says teasingly, walking away with his hands shoved down his jean pockets. Your heart flutters, and your attempts to push down the butterflies in your stomach were thwarted once again.

It’s like you see him everywhere now. From the convenience store down the street to the garden rooftop of your apartment complex. Yeonjun seemed to permeate every part of your existence, offline and online. Though he was probably unaware of how often you were posting in your underwear just to get a flirtatious response from him in your comments, you swore he was flustering you on purpose.

The way he would casually help you out of carrying heavy packages from your hands when you’d see him in the apartment lobby, or how he would casually talk about missing “housewifeblues” at the start of each stream. He was driving you crazy.

You weren’t an idiot; you knew his intentions. And though you keep your interactions as polite as possible, you find out a little too much about the man you’ve been lusting over for the past few weeks. 

Yeonjun tells you he doesn’t have many friends. He moved back home recently after doing university abroad and working there for a bit. He’s close with his mother and talks to her over the phone every day. He volunteers at pet sanctuaries over the weekends and wants to get a cat of his own someday. But when you pry, asking him how he’s able to afford the high rent your husband was paying for this swanky apartment complex at such a young age, he avoids answering completely. Simply says “I work a remote job,” but you know better.  

You know how he posts on OnlyFans daily, subscriptions increasing after every sensual stream where he gets paid thousands a night to pleasure himself on camera.

It’s one of those days when you run into him in the hallway. You’re wearing a tank top and yoga pants, and you just finished an at-home workout routine while you waited for your laundry to finish drying. You were exiting your place to make a quick run to the grocery store to prepare dinner for the night. 

Yeonjun was walking back to his apartment, eyes scanning you as you gave him a weak greeting. 

“Heading out?” he asks in a low tone, hands in his pockets. You nod, growing nervous at his intense gaze. He’s eyeing you over now, and you don’t notice how he hyperfixates on a certain area of your chest.

“My husband wants me to cook pasta tonight, and I forgot some ingredients,” you lie through your teeth, always feeling an urge to mention Sehoon in Yeonjun’s presence. Like you had to remind yourself that you still have one.

“Can’t he pick them up for you?” he asks inquisitively. You let out a small laugh at the suggestion.

“Dinner should be done before a husband gets home from work,” you say, as if it were routine. It’s what your mom would tell you. It’s what Sehoon would tell you. So why did you feel so small when Yeonjun looked at you with such pity in his eyes?

“If I were him,” he steps forward, brushing a stray hair from your flushed face. “I wouldn’t let my pretty wife cook all by myself.”

Your breath hitches as he looks at you. What you would give to have him. What would you do to keep that same expression on your face at all times? It wasn’t fair, you thought to yourself, that you should be subjected to a life of dissatisfaction when the one who could cure it was so near. 

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asks, the feeling of his hand still lingering by your ear.

“I always am,” you softly reply. And to that, he smiles.

You couldn’t look away, even as he walked away. 

“I’ll see you soon then.”

You hear the doorbell ring. Today was your deep cleaning day. You already washed the dishes, watered all the plants, and got dinner started. It was also the day after yesterday, which meant Yeonjun was coming over.

You open the door a little too eagerly. It was a little pathetic, you admit to yourself, how much you wanted to see him.

His livestream after your conversation yesterday was intense, more so than usual. He propped his phone on his bathroom counter, stroking himself in the shower. You searched for his moans in your walls, imagining his hands on you like they were just hours prior. You ached to hear him, addicted to the way he sounded since the last time you watched him live and heard him through the walls.

Shaking your head to prevent yourself from getting carried away by your thoughts, you finally open the door.

It was him, red hair and all.

"Hey," your masked neighbor greets you with a bag in his hand. "I brought some cake. I finally got around to finishing everything in the welcome basket. They were all so delicious, thank you."

"You shouldn't have," you say politely, holding back your giddiness. "My husband’s at work right now, but I'll save some for him later."

He holds the bag up to you, and you take it from him cautiously, careful not to touch him. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your fingers quiver.

"Oh?" he looks past you at the empty apartment. "It's already dinner time, though?"

You smile sadly.

"He's not actually home that often," you say, trying to push down the bitterness in your voice. “He gets busy.”

You can't tell from his mask whether he feels sorry for you, but his eyes do seem rather intense.

"Shall we eat the cake together then?" he suggests. "I like sweet things."

Your heartbeat quickens. The only man who has ever set foot in your apartment was Sehoon and your father. It felt wrong to invite him in, but it felt even more wrong to say no to him. And so you take a step back as an invitation for this stranger (who isn't really a stranger) into your tidy space.

He's sitting next to you on the couch, a healthy distance away from you. He slices the cake evenly between you two, handing you the small plastic fork that came with the bakery.

"It's so rare for neighbors to greet each other these days," he commends you. "When you showed up at my door, I thought I was in a movie.”

“It’s just common courtesy,” you reply. “I’ve done it for everyone who’s moved into the complex.”

He chuckles.

“If I had known I'd be moving in next to someone so kind and beautiful, I would have signed my lease sooner."

You smile at his compliment, warmth seeping into your cheeks. You take a bite out of the cake. Strawberry shortcake. Your favorite. You notice that familiar gaze of his as it lingers on you. His foxy eyes scan you up and down slowly, and you'd never felt more exposed in your life despite being fully clothed.

"What a waste of a husband," he starts, leaning into you slowly, "to neglect you."

You freeze under his fiery gaze. His voice sounded different, unlike his playful teasing in the hallways. No, this was not Yeonjun. This was the camboy who moans out dirty words through unrelenting thrusts into his hand, biting back at viewers who command him to take it slow. 

The fork falls from your mouth and onto your lap as he inches closer.

"You deserve a better man," he says closely in your ear. "Someone who doesn’t leave you lonely."

You hold a shaky hand against his chest, preventing him from getting closer.

“What do you mean?”

He’s grinning underneath the mask. 

"[Y/N]," he draws your name out teasingly. "You're on a naughty part of Twitter, aren't you?"

You bring your hand down in an attempt to seem normal, but your nervous lip biting fails to make you look even remotely convincing.

"I have no idea what you're-"

"Don't worry," he interrupts, laying his arm around the couch behind you. "I'm not planning to dox you or anything."

He digs his phone out of his pocket with his other hand and shows you a sight you're already so familiar with: his Twitter profile.

"Look," he says, carelessly scrolling through his lewd content right in front of you like it was normal. "I know you know who I am. Like how I know who ‘housewifeblues' is.”

No, you tell yourself. This can’t be happening. 

"Listen, Yeonjun," you start carefully. "I don't know what you're talking about or who you think I am, but I don't feel comfortable continuing this conversation with you."

You can sense a smirk behind that damn mask of his.

"You know you don't do a very good job of hiding who you are," he chides. “Not very quiet when you’re touching yourself either.”

Your eyes widen, and he lets out a muffled laugh.

 "I didn't even have to see your beauty mark to know it was you, baby,” he continues lazily. “The way you looked when I mentioned your husband the first time I met you was enough for me to know. Reminded me about all the times you complained about him with those pretty pictures of yours."

His eyes fixated on your beauty mark and back up to your face, revelling in the way you nipped at your bottom lip anxiously.

"You don’t understand,” he whispers, his hand ghosting over your cheek. “How often I imagine it’s your hands on me when I go live.”

"Oh," you purse your lips, attempting to prevent noises of pleasure from coming out of your mouth.

"What's wrong?" he gazes into you. "Cat got your tongue?"

Yeonjun’s large hand hovers over your breasts, and you unknowingly arch your back toward him like it was instinct. When he sees nothing but lust clouding your vision, he takes a mound in his palm and massages you gently. You gasp at the feeling. It's been ages since you've been touched like this.

He kneads with both hands this time, intently watching your face for any signs of discomfort. But all he could see were your furrowed brows in pure ecstasy. He scoots closer to you, dragging his fingers across your abdomen as he lifts your shirt. Yeonjun's gaze darkens, your bare tits heavy in his hands. He massages, circling your nipples. They’re stiff from the cool air and his prodding fingers. Your head rolls back, moans coming out in meek bursts.

"I h-have a husband," you stutter out in between moans. It comes out like you’re reminding yourself more than to remind him. Yeonjun’s back rests on the couch, dragging you so that your spine is against his chest. He continues the push and pull of his eager hands on your breasts as you sit between his legs. 

"According to you," he starts, burying his masked face into your cheek, directly whispering into your ear. "He's already cheating, isn't he? Is it fair that he gets to have all the fun?"

You rest your head back onto his shoulder as he continues to tease you, pulling at your erect nipples harshly and then soothing them with his soft thumbs. 

It’s like he’s debating something in those furrowed brows of his, and when you roll your hips back into his, it feels like something snapped. Yeonjun pulls his mask down in one swift motion, and you almost moan out loud at the sight of his gorgeous face. 

His features are simultaneously sharp and soft, his lips so full and so kissable. No wonder he kept his face hidden; he was too dangerous for the internet to see. Everyone would fall in love. He'd be swarmed on the streets. Wars would be waged over him.

"I wanna fuck you so bad," he says, his gaze following your parted mouth. His face hovers over yours, and you shut your eyes in anticipation. It's almost soft the way his lips meet yours, slowly molding you to follow his rhythm. He pushes his tongue into your mouth gently, prodding so deeply that your saliva mixes with his. He grinds up into you from behind, the tent of his pants meeting the curve of your ass at a perfect angle. 

You kiss him back with an equal amount of fervor. You push yourself against him harder, eliciting a stifled moan from him.

Images of Sehoon flash in your mind, but are immediately erased as Yeonjun grounds your hips into his. He pulls down your pants hurriedly, his mouth never leaving yours. You spread yourself wide for him. You knew for the first time in your life what you wanted. He runs his finger through the wet spot of your lacy lilac underwear, latching his index finger to do small circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves just above your slit. His tongue clashing with yours as you attempt to stifle the low moans coming out of your throat.

He parts from your lips slowly, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. He looks down to where he's touching you, a shit-eating grin on his gorgeous face. So that’s how he smiles, you think to yourself, lost in the feeling of his fingers on the soft material of your cloth-covered clit. 

His pace is slow and methodical, leaving you conflicted on whether you should grind down on his twitching cock or buck your hips into his coaxing ministrations. It's not enough for you, but you'll take anything he can give.

"You're so wet already, baby," he croons. "Your underwear is soaked."

You whine when Yeonjun stops his movements suddenly, searching for friction by thrusting up into his still palm. You whine in relief when he pushes your panties to the side, running a teasing finger up and down your bare slit. 

"Fuck," he looks over your shoulder and past your chest, to get a better look at the effect he has on you. He inserts his middle finger in, your folds practically engulfing him with a loud squelch. In and out, it disappears into you with fervor and stretches you out so deliciously. Everything about him was so long, you couldn’t imagine what his dick would feel like.

"You swallowed my finger so well, baby. Think you can fit another?"

You nod, breathing so heavy you can't find it in yourself to quell your anticipation.

"Yes," you practically plead. Yeonjun chuckles.

"Lift your hips up," he directs you, planting another open-mouthed kiss on your lips as you follow him mindlessly. "I'm gonna take these panties off you, okay?"

You nod again, your feet high in the air so your godforsaken underwear could finally be removed. He pumps his finger, now slow and controlled. When he feels you loosen up a bit, he inserts his index finger in too, with slightly more resistance from your tightness. You groan, from both pain and pleasure. His hands were so big. So veiny. The way he curled his fingers up to reach a spot you never knew you had in you. Fuck, you felt so full already.

You don't know how it happens or how you got there, but you're on your back as Yeonjun hovers over you, pistoning his fingers in and out at a faster pace. His palm is grinding down on your mound, hitting every right spot as his fingers scissor into you. His tongue finds yours again, battling for dominance to distract you from the dull ache of being stretched out. He inserts a third finger in, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You’re not sure your body could take it, but you would. For him. His fingers, so thick and relentless, buried deeper inside your aching folds.

"I feel weird," you say as a bubbling and fiery sensation starts at your toes. You’re a muttering mess. "Never... felt.. this… good…"

Yeonjun chuckles, purposefully removing his fingers inside of you slowly, preventing you from reaching that elusive high you didn’t know you were chasing. Your hips meet the sky, mourning the loss of his touch. He traces featherlight kisses down your body, his face now directly in front of your pretty cunt.

"Your husband's never made you feel like this, baby?" he says, giving a few teasing kisses on your inner thigh.

"N-no," you cry out loud. "H-he's never even gone down there."

He stops his lapping to look up at you.

"He's never eaten you out?" he scoffs. "What a fucking loser."

Yeonjun dips his head between your legs and drags his tongue along your wet folds in one long stroke. He laps at you like a dog, addicted to your nectar on his lips. 

“Oh my god, Yeonjun-”

Your toes curl as he buries his tongue in you. He pumps it in and out of you as his hands grip your ass so tightly, you start to think you’d bruise from it. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. The fiery sensation building inside you returns almost immediately.

He peppers kisses on your mound, his mouth finding its new target. He sucked your clit hard, tongue circling your bundle of nerves until your stomach starts to tighten. Yeonjun lifts your hips up, pushing his face deeper into your folds. You clench around nothing, whining at both the pleasure and the loss of his tongue fucking into you. As if he read your mind, Yeonjun’s fingers find their way back to your folds. Teasing the entrance, you push yourself up into him, burying his digits deep in you as he continues his attack on your clit. Yeonjun licks and prods like a man starved of food, relishing in the messiness coating his chin and the addicting melody of your moans.

Your hips stutter as you feel the waves crash down on you. 

"Ahhh," you whine. Your body writhed underneath him, fingers clawing the couch armrest above your head.

You plant your heels onto the couch with shaky legs, and you cry out again. You feel something, whatever it is, building inside you. Your moans come out in panicked bursts until you start to see white, your juices spraying all over Yeonjun's face. He groans at the feeling, still burying his face into you. He lets you ride out your high as you grind languidly onto his nose. It takes him years until he pulls away, chuckling at your fucked out face and splayed out hair.

"You squirt, baby?" he teases, getting back on his knees to tower over your lying figure on the couch. "To think you couldn't get more perfect."

You shake your head, chest heaving up and down.

"I didn’t know I could do that," you confess. Yeonjun laughs in response, a little distracted. He pulls his hair back away from his face, his forehead glistening against your warm living room light. You want to kiss those pouty lips of his again. Your eyes travel downwards, to his strained gray sweatpants. Though you couldn’t see it, you knew. He was bigger, much bigger in real life.

“He doesn’t know what to do with you,” he mutters to himself, his thumb finding your lips. “Can’t get you wet like I do, huh?”

You nod mindlessly, taking his thumb into your mouth as he pushes your tongue down with it.

“Probably fake your orgasms with him, hm?” His eye contact never broke away from your hooded lids. “Don’t ever need to pretend with me, baby. I can make you feel good.”

You barely notice it at first, but Yeonjun pulled his phone out. It’s quiet as he takes his thumb off of you to open the camera app. You stare silently as he props up his phone using the cake box he brought, sitting all neglected on the coffee table.

You say nothing, pursing your lips as you watch him put his face mask, soaked in your fluids,  back on. He adjusts the camera. You look away in panic when he hits the red button to record a video.

“Don’t get my face,” you say hurriedly. You wonder why that’s the first thing you say. Not “stop”, not a refusal. Some part of you wanted this, craved it so badly your legs widened for him again. He chuckles, glad that you don’t seem displeased with him.

"Don't worry, baby," Yeonjun says as he strokes your hair affectionately. “I'll pixelize it."

He unzips his hoodie, the same one he wore the day you first met him, revealing his toned body underneath. He did not take it off, letting it hang from his body like an accessory. You couldn't take your eyes off Yeonjun and the way his chest gleamed with sweat. 

"Fuck," he says breathlessly as he looks down at you, masked and still so hot. "I need to be inside you."

He pulls his pants down, and you bite your lip as a reflex. His cock was so pretty, standing tall as it slapped against his stomach. So big and so girthy, tip so vexingly red like in his videos. You've never taken anything his size ever. 

"You want a taste?" he asks teasingly, slowly stroking himself up and down at the sight of you. You nod, but you don't know why. You hated giving blowjobs. The smell, the taste. You were even open about it on your account.

But here you are, climbing over Yeonjun as he lies down on the couch your husband always sleeps on when a football match is on. Your doe eyes were level with his pulsating length, mouth salivating in anticipation. Inhaling him, it was nothing like Sehoon's mustiness. He smelled clean, like fresh laundry.

"Need my help?" he teases. "Want to make me feel good?"

You nod. "Yes, please."

The voice you hear coming out of you doesn't feel like your own. Your eyes shift to the phone, shuttering at the lewd sight of you in between his naked thighs. What did Yeonjun turn you into?

His hand holds your head, wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He pushes your face down gently, closer to his cock. You take the hint and hold him in your hand, tightening your grip. You drag your tongue on the underside of his heaviness, and he lets out a hiss that makes you clench around nothing.

"Take it into your mouth," he commanded softly, propping you onto his shoulders to watch you more intently. "Use your tongue. No teeth. And stroke what you can't take, baby."

You listen to him without hesitation. Mouth enveloping his tip, you swirl your tongue around it. The further your head bobs down, the more confidence you gain as you hear Yeonjun curse under his breath. His hand gently guides you down deeper as you swallow around his throbbing length. You pump him up and down from his base, using your dripping saliva as lube. Yeonjun’s whines permeate the room, just like in his videos. Pride swells up in your chest to know that it was you who made him feel this good. He’s never had a video with anyone else. You were the first.

You want to make him feel even better, make him feel like how you did just minutes before. You take your hand off him and lower your mouth further down his length. You work your way up and down his cock to ease the stretch of him as he thrusts up into your mouth listlessly.

"So good," he says through muffled moans. "Fuck-"

Before you can bottom out, Yeonjun pulls you up haphazardly. Your mouth came off him with a small ‘pop’ that had you smiling slyly. His eyes are glazed over, dragging you up by your shoulders.

"Need to taste you again," he says through bated breaths, pushing you down where he was lying mere seconds ago. “Need this pussy all over my tongue.”

"Did I do good?" you ask, lips shimmering with his fluids, as he positions his face above your folds once more. He smiles up at you.

"Don’t ask dumb questions, baby," he says, lowering his mask down to plant a kiss right above your clit. “Was gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours from how good it fucking felt.”

Your thighs hide his face from view, hiding the brutal pace of his tongue on your wet cunt from the camera’s view. Yeonjun did not hold back, so different from earlier. His mouth was relentless on your clit, planting French kisses on it like his tongue was searching for something underneath. He grabs the plushness of your thighs, forcing you to wrap them around his face. Scared of suffocating him, you try to pull away, but Yeonjun keeps your legs locked in place with an unyielding grip. 

Your eyes are blurry with tears from the sensitivity, eyes meeting the phone as you watch yourself get devoured so messily. You grasp at his red hair, pulling him away, but to no avail. You need him so bad it’s starting to hurt.

"Wanna cum with you inside me, please," you beg, already feeling that familiar coil in your stomach. "No more..."

He lifts his head up with a languid lick up your slit. Yeonjun licks his lips, his mouth and chin drenched in your fluids. He laughs as he looks up into your face, so eager and needy for him. Fuck, where were you all his life?

"You think you're ready, baby?" he asks, freeing himself from the cage of your supple legs that he willingly trapped himself in. He pulls his mask back on before crawling back up to you. His cock ghosts over the area below your belly button, guiding it down lower with his right hand.

“Think you can take all of me?”

He aligns his length atop your entrance, stroking it along your wet outer folds. He taps his angry, hot tip against your clit, and it’s enough to make you whine. Your tears threaten to spill over.

"Please," you cry out. "I want it so bad."

"Want what?" he teases. 

"I can’t," you whine as you try to avoid his intense gaze. He laughs darkly.

“I need to hear you say it,” Yeonjun smirks. “How else am I supposed to know what you’re asking for?”

Your face contorts into a silent scream when you feel his rawness slowly sink into you. He holds it there, thrusting only the tip into you.

“I need you inside me,” you whine. “Please, I need you to fill me up with your cock and fuck me.”

Yeonjun smirks.

“That’s all you had to say.”

He digs out a condom from his hoodie's pocket. He rips the packet open with his mouth and hands it to you, chuckling at your confusion.

"Put it on me," he coaxes. 

Your husband never ever used a condom, always assuming that you'd be okay with having unprotected sex and bearing his child. For the first time in your life, you wished a condom wasn't in the picture. You wanted to throw it to the other side of the room and beg him to fuck you raw and full. That you would be happy to carry his child and leave your husband for good. 

But you push those twisted fantasies to the deep recesses of your mind and take the stretchy material in your hand anyway. He watches as you hesitantly run the condom down his pulsing length. You're slow and deliberate, like you’re waiting for him to change his mind and fuck you without it. All he does is smile, stroking your hair out of your face.

“Good girl.”

Yeonjun positions himself behind you in a sitting position, your legs draped over his thighs to give the camera a good view of your puffy folds. He lifts you up high as he grips the back of your knees from behind, rubbing his tip up and down your slit to pick more of your juices up. 

“Look at you,” he whispers into your ear. “So fucking needy. Dripped all over my face, but all you wanted was this cock, huh?” You nod, mindlessly, whimpering in pathetic agreement.

Slowly, he impales you onto him.

You roll your head back onto his shoulder, biting down on his neck to distract yourself from the pain. Despite all the foreplay, you were still not used to his size. He was just too thick, still too large for you to take in. When you see his tip disappear into your folds, your tears start to fall down your face. It hurt, but you couldn’t have him pull away. You needed him right where he was. Inch by inch, you suction him in until-

"Shit," Yeonjun moans as the base of his cock hits your entrance. Fully engulfed in your folds, he steadies his breathing. You were so warm, so fucking irresistible in the way you clench around him in waves. He waits a few seconds until he starts to lift you up again. His hands are holding you from underneath your thighs, and with his support, you drop yourself back down on him. You cry out from the pressure you feel in your stomach. You can feel him against it, the small bulge visible underneath your belly button. He's hitting the deepest parts of you.

"Your pussy was made for me. So fucking tight.”

Yeonjun’s grip on you is tensing so suddenly. He bends you forward, so that your hands are on his knees as he pistons up into you. You can’t help but stare at the screen, moaning as you watch him push into you from behind.

"Oh my god," you cry out as he pulls your hips down against him. His length grinds against a spongy spot inside of you, and when he realizes he’s hit it from the way your mouth morphs into a silent O-shape, he smirks. What started as slow, cautious thrusts suddenly turned into a brutal and unforgiving pace of his monstrous cock within the deepest parts of your pussy. Yeonjun hit your G-spot again and again and again, his thrusts deep and unwavering.

"Look at how you’re letting me fuck you dumb," he groans out, grabbing your tits from behind as they bounce mercilessly in front of the camera. "So fucking wet for me."

You fall so forward that you're grabbing onto the coffee table now as Yeonjun stands up, while unrelenting in his thrusts into you. He kicks back the couch slightly, propping a leg up on it to have a better angle to fuck you. He pushes you down, having your back arched perfectly for the camera, as his thrusts quicken. 

“Ngh— Ah— I can’t—”

You try to quiet your moans, afraid of who might hear. Afraid of who might come into the living room to see you getting railed so hard and so desperately by someone who isn't… Wait, who was he again? 

"Taking me so well," Yeonjun grunts, pulling you away from your thoughts. "Like a fucking bitch in heat."

He slaps you hard on the ass, grabbing it right after, like you’d disappear if he didn’t. You squeal at the impact, shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you.

“P-please, Yeo-” He stuffs his fingers in your mouth, preventing you from saying his name. You forget what this was, you forget that he was recording.

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl,” he snarls.

“Wha-”

Pushing you off him, Yeonjun throws you onto the couch. You let yourself be manhandled by him, reaching out for his shoulders desperately, wanting so desperately for his dick to find its way back inside you. 

“You like when I’m mean, huh?” Yeonjun laughs as your mouth holds open at the absence of his fingers. “Like when I break you, hm?”

Inserting himself back in your wetness, Yeonjun holds you against the couch in a mating press. His eyes gaze intensely into yours.

"Let me hear you, baby," Yeonjun coaxes, his thrusts slow and shallow just to hear you whine. "Let them know who this pussy belongs to.”

You whimper, grinding up against him. You're desperate for him to be rough again, to put you in your place. To have your mind only clouded with thoughts of him and his cock only. God, he made a mess of you.

“Or am I not doing enough to hear you scream?” he pouts underneath his mask, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Maybe I should go harder…so I can hear you better."

He laughs, and you don't even have a chance to reply as Yeonjun pushes into you with a force so guttural that you feel his tip hit the entrance of your cervix. 

Like he predicted, you screamed at the painful ecstasy of being filled to the absolute brim. 

“Fuck–”

He continues his pace hard and fast, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your nails are clawing at his back, his head buried deep in your neck. His own moans rival yours.

“Yes, baby. Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this pussy for so long–”

 You don't realize the cry you let out when he hits that inner spot again. He thrusts, grinding against it again and again and again until you start seeing stars. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you breathe out. “I’m–”

“Louder, baby,” Yeonjun coaxes. “Need to hear you.”

Your mind breaks as the world comes undone around you. Your moans have devolved into ear-piercing whines, tears running down your face in pure ecstasy. 

Your climax hits you in droves as he continues to fuck you through it. He did not stop.

"I'm sensitive," you cry out in between your unintelligible babbling. "Please..."

Yeonjun shushes you, bringing your head close to his chest. You're practically sobbing now, pleasure overriding every other emotion in your body. Even the one nagging you about what Sehoon would think of you right now. About what your parents would think of their precious daughter.

"It's okay," he whispers soothingly as he continues to slowly thrust into you. "You can do it again, right? Just give me one more, baby."

Your face is contorted into a million different expressions as he adjusts to pick up his pace. It never stopped feeling good, but it was too much for your body to handle. Were you ever supposed to feel this much pleasure in your lifetime?

"I'm so close," he whines, his masked face buried deep in your neck. The noises your bodies produce are sinful. Squelches and slapping of bare skin echo throughout the living room. Your tits bouncing against his chest, your nipples rubbing against his. You can feel his breath quicken, and you tighten the grip of your folds to push him towards it. You want to see it, want to see how he comes undone from someone other than himself. 

Yeonjun’s thrusts become erratic, and his hold on your ass intensifies. You wanted to see it bruise the next day. He brings his left hand to your clit, and you yelp at the sudden intensity. His thumb circles you softly, so different from the brutal pace of his cock. The different sensations have you moaning into his neck. 

“I can’t. It’s too much, it’s too much, it’s–”

“Shh,” Yeonjun pushes out through his own whines. “Need you to cum with me, need to feel it.”

You never knew you could want someone so bad, to be so lustful over another. The way his brows contort, so focused on bringing both of you to your peaks. You wish you could kiss him, but his mask brings out a different desire inside of you. 

You might be the only viewer of his to have seen him without it. A wave of pride consumes you; the thought of other people watching him fills you with rage mixed with lust. 

You feel the dam of your floodgates come undone once again as you clench around at the thought. Wouldn’t it be so nice to have him all to yourself? No husband to worry about, no viewers to get jealous over. Just him and you, fucking every damn moment of your lives.

Your tears of hot pleasure surge once again, and he groans at the sight of you so fucked out by him. 

“So fucking perfect,” he groans.

Your tightness propels him to grind into you harshly, the couch scratching the floor with his movements. One final thrust has him cumming hard into the condom, fully bottomed out inside you.

“Fuck-” Yeonjun moans as he buries his hair in the crook of your neck. 

You milk him of his climax, your body grinding into his to soothe his comedown. What you would do to rip the stupid condom off him and let his cum trickle out of you and down your thigh. You think you’d be willing to actually be a mother if it meant that Yeonjun could fuck you raw.

He sighs as he rides out both your highs with small, steady thrusts. Shaking from oversensitivity, you stop his movement to pull him in closer. 

Yeonjun collapses on top of you, not noticing the phone lying flat on its back from the impact of his roughness. You sigh out contentedly, petting his fiery hair. 

'So this is what real sex feels like,' you think to yourself. 

You felt like you were drifting on a cloud, with a man so beautiful lying on your chest. He scans your face, and a sudden wave of anxiety washes over you. Before you could push him off, Yeonjun removes his mask to plant a soft kiss on your flushed lips.

“He’s lucky to have you,” Yeonjun says with a sad smile, stroking your cheek. “Don’t ever let him think it’s the other way around.”

"Sorry for staying so late," Yeonjun apologizes, his plate fully cleaned out. "Your cooking is amazing."

You smile. He wasn’t wearing his mask anymore, as it sits in your laundry hamper desperately waiting for a wash. You couldn’t get over how glaringly beautiful he is. What did he do in a past life to be blessed with such features?

“It’s not all me,” you say, standing up from the dining table. “I had a great assistant.”

Yeonjun smirks.

“Cutting vegetables is the easy part,” he chimed in. “The fact you can season stuff perfectly without measurements is insane, [Y/N]. If he doesn’t come home to eat your dinners, I will gladly take them off his hands.”

You stand up, take the dishes, and put them in the sink. The guilt crept into the back of your mind. What were you doing letting this man fuck you in your home and help you cook dinner with you after?

This was not right. This is not the person you wanted to become. You can’t let this happen again.

‘I am married,’ you tell yourself over and over again. What would people think if they knew?

"Look, [Y/N]," Yeonjun stands up, making his way behind you. He dangles his phone in front of your face. The thumbnail of a pixelized girl and a masked man fucking on a pristinely white couch, one eerily similar to the one in your living room.

He uploaded the video. Without telling you.

"Yeonjun-" you gasp, your eyes widened with shock.

"Before you say anything," he starts. "I promise your face isn’t visible. But people may or may not have already picked up that it’s you– or at least the online version of you.”

56,000 likes and 5.4k retweets. You start to feel dizzy. Too many people have seen your body react in ways you hadn't even known it could until today. Although your face was pixelated, everything else was you. The way your toes curled when he fucked you with his tongue. The way your mouth wrapped around his big, veiny cock so willingly. The way you bounced on his dick, legs wide open just for him. 

You felt your body turn cold at the thought of your husband finding out, of seeing you so intimate with another man. Would he tell your parents? Would you have to waste the years you spent with him by having to pay him back?

"You're at 20k followers now," Yeonjun continues, not noticing the inner turmoil you were going through. "I uploaded the full video on OnlyFans and we really raked it in. I'll send you the money we earned next week. So far we've made this much already."

Your eyes widen. Your whole body freezes when he turns the screen over to you. The amount of 0s had you doing a double-take.

"Like just from one hour?"

Yeonjun nods.

“More than usual for me, too.”

You weren't allowed to have a job. Sehoon said it would make him look bad to have a wife who works. You could never put your hard-earned degree to use, could never get some extra money to spend on yourself. He gave you nothing to work with. The money that Yeonjun showed you will be the first time you've had any type of income on your own since you got married.

"You like that, huh?" Yeonjun says teasingly, wrapping a hand around your waist from behind. He nuzzles his neck into your shoulder. "I'm sure you'll be living a good life in no time with what we're earning."

“What do you mean?” you ask cautiously. You can feel his face nearing yours.

“You know what I mean,” he starts slowly.

He brings his other hand to wrap around your neck, applying a soft pressure. 

"I can satisfy your cravings," Yeonjun whispers darkly. "Make you forget all about that piece of shit.”

His hands trap you against the counter.

“Should we make more videos together, baby?" He draws out his pet name for you, and it almost makes you want to pounce on him.

Without your consent, he uploaded a video of you two having sex for the whole internet to see. 

You should say no. Every part of you is telling you to say no, but you don't want to.

You don’t think you could live without his cock inside of you at least one more time. His attentiveness, his care for you… You wanted it all. Was it so wrong to be selfish? 

"It's not cheating," Yeonjun assures you, filling in your silence. "We'd just be business partners after all."

He licks the back of your ear, coaxing you to look at him. His eyes are wide with expectation, so out of character for his usually hooded gaze.

“I won’t push your boundaries again,” Yeonjun insists. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

How could you say no to him with his fluffy hair and seductive eyes? He had you the moment he stepped through those doors. Hesitantly, you nod. 

"Okay," you say shyly under his gaze. "Let's do it."

Yeonjun smiles through the mask. In swift movements, he reaches around you and underneath you to stuff his hand in your pants.

"You look good in this apron," Yeonjun whispers, pushing his sweats down with urgency. "Let's film another one right now."

beomgyu was sitting on your couch, strumming chords lightly and humming softly to himself as he polished up one of the songs he was writing. you were in the corner of the room at your desk, proofreading the chapter you had just written. a gasp had left your lips as you stared wide eyed at the bright white screen in front of you.

the strumming abruptly stopped as beomgyu turned to you, “what is it?” you bit down on your bottom lip as you read the paragraph over and over again. you saw him shift in the corner of your eye and knew he was about to come and see for himself. quickly, you changed the tab to the one that held your outline. “it’s nothing,” you turned, smiling over at him. “just realized that i accidentally created a huge plot hole…” beomgyu chuckled before returning back to his song.

that night, you had read over everything you’ve written so far in a flurry. beomgyu was everywhere in your novel. from the main character to the side characters to the love interest. there was no escaping him.

“shit,” you muttered as you trailed a hand down your face, throwing your laptop onto your bed as you got up to get a drink from the kitchen. tiptoeing past beomgyu’s room in your shared apartment, you reached the kitchen quietly, hopeful that you didn’t somehow wake him.

turns out that was pointless since beomgyu was leaning against the counter, eyes trained on you. you jumped and threw a hand against your chest. “why aren’t you asleep?!” you whisper-yelled, even though there was no need since it was only the two of you in the apartment. beomgyu grinned, putting the cup he was holding to his lips, “why aren’t you?” he spoke softly as well and you walked over to join him.

beomgyu shined hazily in the orange stove light and you took a sip from the glass of alcohol you poured as you looked at him. the two of you stood there for a moment, quietly taking in each other’s presence.

“so why are you awake? it’s almost four in the morning,” beomgyu asked quietly as he broke the silence. you looked towards the living room and took another sip from your glass. “i was proofreading… you?” you asked, looking back to him. “songwriting,” beomgyu responded. you hummed, nodding a little. “wanna hear what i have so far?” he then asked. you nodded more and he led you to his room.

beomgyu’s laptop was open on his bed, all kinds of cords connected to it. his guitar was strewn across it, like he had tossed it on his bed haphazardly in frustration. beomgyu picked the guitar up and sat it back on it’s stand near the wall. sitting on his bed, he patted the spot next to him so you could join. then, he put the headphones over your head and pressed play on his laptop.

music traveled through your ears. it was just the instrumental, but already you could tell how beautiful the song was gonna be. you looked over at him, a proud smile on your face when suddenly you heard his voice. it was only soft background vocals, the ones that you could barely make out, but it sounded heavenly. when the music ended, your smile stretched from ear to ear and you raised your hands to cover it. “that was beautiful, beomgyu! seriously!”

he gave you an unsure look, “is it? i’m not really sure about it. i feel like it might mess with the flow of the ep…” you shook your head rapidly, the headphones almost coming off. “no you have to keep it, it’s amazing! it’s gonna be even better once you add your voice.”

beomgyu beamed as he took in your words. “i gotta hear it again,” you grinned, pressing play on the laptop. you faintly heard beomgyu’s laugh behind the music.

you would give anything for all of your nights—or early mornings—to be exactly like this. the two of you here together, side by side. laughing together and sharing your passions together. to stay with beomgyu until the very end.

two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends.

just like you admitting and realizing your feelings for him, it was sudden. as sudden as storm clouds slowly passing over the sky and the fury of rain could be. it was late morning and the two of you were on your couch; beomgyu’s guitar in his lap and you sitting next to him as he strummed. he was playing one of the finished songs he had written, the one he had written for you. beomgyu had called it ‘graze.’

“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” you sung the lyrics together. beomgyu smiled warmly at you.

beomgyu had given you some insight into the lyrics he had written. the first part, “her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss,” was about the day you had first spoken. it was senior year of highschool and the two of you were paired together on a project. you were meeting somewhere to work on it, but you accidentally walked past the meeting place, completely passing by beomgyu unaware.

the next part, “when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” is when the two of you had gotten close; close enough to share secrets and comfort each other through the thoughts they consumed. everytime the two of you texted, you would end the conversation off with an ‘xxx.’ kisses. it had become your thing with beomgyu, so much so that he wrote it into his song.

when the song had ended, beomgyu suddenly perked up. “let me show you the song i’ve been working on! the one i showed you the other day,” he exclaimed. he started strumming chords, humming softly as he began the song. “i only have, like, one lyric for it right now,” he interjected as he continued strumming.

“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind…” beomgyu sang to the tune of his guitar. your smile faltered, but you managed to put it back in tact as beomgyu glanced up from his guitar to ask for your opinion. it was a love song he was writing. a love song for someone that wasn’t you.

“it’s beautiful, like all of your songs are. i like the new addition! how long have you been working on it?” you smiled, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. beomgyu began to blush as he turned to set his guitar aside, moving his hair over his ears. the tips of them were red. “for a little bit now. i just can’t seem to find the words of the feelings i want to convey,” he replied.

your glass heart shattered, it’s pieces making its way into your bloodstream. piercing pieces dug into beomgyu’s skin. “who’s the lucky person?” you asked, swallowing hard. he turned back to you and smirked. “just someone i’ve known for a while... i think we’re really starting to hit it off!”

after that day, you started to distance yourself from beomgyu. at first, it was only your feelings. limiting the amount of times you touched in any way or adding space between your bodies when you were near each other. then, it was almost as if the two of you were strangers living in the same place.

beomgyu had definitely noticed. you could feel his lingering look at the back of your neck. hear his questions in the air that hangs between you. but your feelings just wouldn’t go away. maybe they were right when they said that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

you locked yourself in your room, working on and rewriting your book over and over again. trying—and failing horribly—to remove beomgyu from the caverns of it. nothing worked, but you were desperate.

one day, beomgyu was playing his guitar a little too loud while you were in your room writing. usually, this wouldn’t be a problem at all. beomgyu always made sure not to be too noisy when you were writing, even though you always told him how much it helped you to have the background music. but this time, this time was different.

you were frustrated, agitated, still deep in love, and still deep in the great unreciprocated. you had flung your door open and stormed into the living room where he was playing and yelled at him to stop.

beomgyu looked up at you with wide, shocked eyes. it was dead silent for a moment, not even the sound of your breathing was heard. too late you realized what you had done. silently, beomgyu collected his things and made his way to his room, not sparing you a single glance or even a murmur. you watched him, an apology, an excuse on your lips.

the next day after you came home from researching at the library, you found a single note from him that was left on the kitchen counter. “i can’t live here with a stranger anymore,” was all it said. finally, you noticed how empty the apartment looked. how empty it looked for a while now. beomgyu was gone, and it was all your fault.

today, you could barely walk the streets of your city without seeing his face or hearing his music.

“UP AND COMING!” the article’s title had read as they delved into an interview with your former best friend. you pushed the laptop away, even after these two years apart you couldn’t face him. not even through a screen. couldn’t face how you tore your friendship apart because you couldn’t control your own feelings. maybe love just wasn’t meant for you.

you heard a sigh from next to you. “just read it!” your friend, yeonjun, drawled. “you’re mentioned.” you let out a sigh yourself with a roll of your eyes as you grabbed the laptop. “if i’m mentioned, it’s not gonna be something good.”

you scrolled down the article until you got to the part where beomgyu got interviewed. most of the questions were about his debut album and upcoming tour. you haven’t listened to any of his songs since he released his ep. hearing his voice was just too much. your eyes stopped on a question that mentioned one of the songs from his debut ep; your song.

Q. one of your more, if not most, popular song is a song called ‘graze.’ can you give us some input into what the song is about? how you came up with it? BEOMGYU: i actually had written the song for someone who i was very close to at the time. originally, the song was about the dynamics of our friendship. but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics. speaking of the lyrics, when i wrote the song i had come up with them first and the rest just kinda flowed after that. it was the first song that i had finished for my ep, and the one i was most proud of. i’m really happy that a lot of people enjoy the song!

you inhaled sharply at his answer. “but as things change, so did the meaning of the lyrics.” you weren’t expecting him to hold fondness for you after everything, after all this time, but his response did sting.

Q. you mentioned how the meaning of the song lyrics changed, does that tie into the title of the song? was ‘graze’ a double meaning this whole time? BEOMGYU: i guess you could say that! there wasn’t a double meaning at the beginning, but alas… to graze means to be scraped lightly in passing, to break the surface of the skin. but it also means to touch, to caress. to slightly damage or to gently touch.

Q. it also means to take in small quantities at frequent, did you know that? BEOMGYU: i didn’t! see how meanings can change!

blinking the tears brimming in the corner of your eyes away, you look back over to yeonjun. he looked at you with eyebrows raised and you shrugged at him. what did he want you to say? that you missed him? you did. that you wish things were different between the two of you? you do. what is that going to change?

“he mentioned the song he wrote! for you!” yeonjun exclaimed. you shrugged again, “he mentioned the song he wrote for someone he used to be close with. like he said, things change.” yeonjun groaned as he fell into the pillows on your bed.

shortly after beomgyu had moved out, you moved into a smaller, one bedroom apartment. it was eating away at you inside looking at how empty and lifeless your apartment you had shared with beomgyu looked. you couldn’t take how everywhere you looked, a memory of the two of you followed.

“he’s having a show at the arena downtown. we’re going,” yeonjun stated. your eyes widened and you furiously shook your head. “no… no i can’t.” two years and you crossed the street if there was a poster of him up next to the sidewalk. two years and you went everywhere with headphones, music blasting in your ears to cover his playing softly throughout the city. you couldn’t see him face to face. couldn’t watch as his smile faltered and his eyes lost their emotion as he looked at you.

yeonjun reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets, “it’s too late, i already got the tickets. i can’t watch anymore as the two of you avoid each other. it’s been two years and not once have i seen the both of you in the same room let alone on the same block.” you put your face into your hands as you leaned over onto the bed, groaning loudly.

somehow you forgot that beomgyu and yeonjun were also friends. close friends at that. the two of them were friends before you and beomgyu were. you wanted to curse at the sky. “and don’t even try to find some way out of it either. i will drag you there kicking and screaming if i have to.” yeonjun added.

“but i have to finish writing my bo—“ you started before yeonjun swiftly cut you off. “it’s this weekend, so you have the whole week to prepare yourself.”

when you were alone that night in the comforting isolation of your bedroom, you let yourself scroll through your old messages with beomgyu. let your eyes wander over the ‘xxx’ at the end of your messages. you fingers moved on their own as they began typing out a message.

old apologies, old excuses. you had the nerve to add ‘xxx’ at the end like the two of you were still who you once used to be. you deleted the kisses at the end, deleted the message altogether. it’s not that you would ever send it anyways.

you thought about how your life would be if you and beomgyu weren’t strangers now. if you were more than best friends, getting to know each other again. you imagined late nights of you taking him out to bars in celebration of his new releases. pressing proud kisses to his lips as the alcohol and your love warmed the both of your bodies. shaking your head to yourself, you pushed the thoughts away. no use in daydreaming.

the damning beat of your heart got louder and louder the closer you and yeonjun got to the arena. the closer and closer you got to beomgyu. at the rate your heart was going, the sheer loudness would create a guilty beat for everyone to sing along to.

you handed in your tickets and made your way to the floor. when you read the tickets and saw that they were for the floor, you almost killed yeonjun. you thought you could be sly and sit somewhere in the seats, somewhere where beomgyu wouldn’t have a high possibility of seeing you. you were wrong.

yeonjun grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to the stage. when he tried to pull you right up against the barricade, you pulled away from him and he sighed. the two of you settled close to the stage, but not so close that you’d be touching noses with beomgyu. a compromise.

the lights had dimmed and the crowd had filed in until it was jam packed in the arena. your heart couldn’t help but swell with pride. he did it, he really did. he achieved the one thing he wanted the most, and you couldn’t be prouder of him for it.

the band came on stage and the crowd erupted with cheers and screams from all around you. you looked over to yeonjun, who was cheering along with them. you laughed, the sound being covered, but still there nonetheless. everything only got louder when beomgyu stepped onto the stage. you swear the girl next to you almost passed out.

when you saw him, the spotlight illuminating him—making him look like all of the stars in the sky, it was as if it was only the two of you in the room. the crowd of people around you faded and your breath hitched when he started to look over the crowd with a big warm smile. your face heated and you looked away, hiding so he wouldn’t see you. it’s been a while since you’ve done that.

what were you doing here? what was yeonjun thinking? that he would see you in the crowd and everything would fall into place? that he would call your name and the crowd would part as you made your way to the stage? that he’d take your hand and kiss you in front of everyone, in front of the whole world to see? what a stupid thought.

you wanted to leave but you were trapped from all sides. beomgyu sat on the chair that was placed in the center of the stage, his one and only guitar on his knee that you’ve become so accustomed to. “how is everyone doing tonight? well, i hope!” he said, strumming the strings of his guitar lightly. the crowd erupted again, words barely audible.

shaking your head, you grabbed yeonjun’s arm. “i can't do this, yeonjun. i want to go home.” he turned to you with furrowed eyebrows of worry. the girl next to you gave you an ear to ear smile, “i know right? isn’t he just so dreamy!” in turn, you gave her a barely disguised grimace and turned back to yeonjun. yeonjun laughed at your reaction, “get over it! let him sing to you! we’re staying.” he turned back to the stage and you realized that beomgyu had already began playing a song.

not just any song, the song that he wrote for you. he was singing ‘graze.’ yeonjun smirked at you and you’ve realized you’ve fallen into his trap. vaguely, you remembered that beomgyu always started out his shows with the song he had written for you. you wanted to use his guitar to bash your head in.

“her hair glowed in the sunlight as she grazed past me; like a leaf on a tree branch of a tree i’ll never see. over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss. when the darkness seals me in it’s cold maze, she sends me her remembrances in the form of a kiss,” beomgyu sang softly to the tune of his guitar. the live band behind him made the song more layered, in a way you haven’t heard since you’ve first heard the finished song.

“under newborn stars, we bear witness, we watched it all begin. i feel the heat of mars, my worn guitar, like her fingers against my skin,” beomgyu continued the song, the crowd singing along with him. you felt glassy tears in your eyes, threatening to fall. you couldn’t open your mouth to sing, not after all of the circumstances, so your heart sang for you. it was quiet, left only for the empty cathedrals of your ribs to echo back to you.

once he stopped singing, the music continued for a moment, letting everyone take in the song. beomgyu closed his eyes against the bright lights, his hands resting on the edge of his guitar. just as the song ended he opened them, an emotion you couldn’t quite make out in his eyes.

“now, for this next one, it took me a long time to write. two years in fact,” beomgyu spoke as he looked around at the crowd, a slight laugh in his tone. his eyes had just missed yours on his journey and you reeled back slightly in shock, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i just couldn’t seem to find the words to the feelings i wanted to convey. but luckily for you all, i managed to find them,” beomgyu smiled as he adjusted his guitar. “this one’s called ‘tattoos on strangers.’”

those words sounded strangely familiar. out of the corner of your eye, you saw yeonjun look over at you as the crowd cheered. you couldn’t even move to look back at him, to ask why he was staring. you were entirely focused on beomgyu. on the way he looked around the crowd with twinkling love in his eyes. the way he fiddled with his guitar like he was antsy to let the music flow out of him. it entranced you, dazzled you, entrapped you.

beomgyu inhaled sharply, the sound catching in the mic in front of him, as he strummed the chords of one of his songs you’ve never heard before. “we’re two moths to a burning flame; they call us icarus. now all that’s left between our bodies is the sinking bitterness. our eyes are on the sky, the lies we tell each other are to blame.” you gasped at how heavenly he sounded. at the melodic symphonies he was creating. at how familiar yet so unfamiliar the song sounded to you.

there was a beat as the live band picked up volume. “we’re waltzing together, we’ve gone too far. but we can’t help ourselves, we’re sinful, we’re brand new burning stars. gravity is starting to pull us closer and closer, you say it’s starting to lead to our demise. but don’t worry, baby, our silence—the heaviness between us, will be the disguise,” beomgyu continued. his eyes were squeezed shut as he sang. it made you wonder who he intended the song to be for if he was reacting this way.

“there’s no need to apologize, we’ve witnessed this before, i know your true name. like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain. too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind. don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time,” beomgyu sang as the song came to an end. suddenly it was as if a light switch lit up the dark room in your brain, a certain lyric ringing bells inside.

“too powerful to overtake, oh, you’ve grown all over my mind,” you understood why the song sounded familiar to you. it was the song beomgyu was working on right before the two of you stopped being bestfriends. another thought hit you so hard that you stumbled back into the person behind you and yeonjun gave you another worried look. you stared back at him, eyes wide open.

two lyrics stood out to you, “like the ink of a tattoo, you linger, you graze the recesses of my brain,” and “don’t delete the kisses at the end, just kiss me instead—just this one time.” you turned to look back up at beomgyu, just as he started singing another song. his eyes were traveling the crowd and at that moment, his eyes connected with yours. they widened and he started to blink rapidly for a second, like he couldn’t believe that you were looking at him.

at the same time, both of your eyes traveled to yeonjun, who in turn gave a sheepish smile. he set the two of you up. desperately you wanted to leave, but yeonjun’s hand around your wrist and the crowd wouldn’t let you.

‘graze’, you knew for a fact was for you, but ‘tattoos on strangers’? there was no denying that he wrote the song about you, down to the referencing lyrics. down to the “don’t delete the kisses at the end.” oh god, you thought, oh god. this whole time… this whole time, he was singing about you. he was singing about you when you thought he was singing about someone else and you ruined it. you ruined everything.

suddenly, it was getting hard to breathe with everyone around you and with beomgyu’s eyes on you. he tried hard to make it look like he wasn’t singling you out, but every couple seconds his eyes would lock on you again. you had no choice but to sit and endure. endure his stare, the slight wildness in his look. endure all the songs from his debut album that you never heard; all of which were about you. all of them. endure the way his heart called out to yours, echoing through his songs, and the way yours called back.

your eyes connect once more—just for the briefest of moments—before you looked away, shyness taking over. your face—no, your whole body—felt like it was on fire. just like a brand new burning star. you felt like all eyes were on you, when in reality all eyes were on him.

finally, you looked up again as he announced the last song in the setlist—‘forethought.’ your eyes meet just as he sings, his eyes only on you, “oh, i hear her voice in the wind sometimes. has she given me any thought? i go back to the pastimes—like wind chimes, it’s not all for naught. my wet knees in the winter, it’s my hopeful crime, it’s my savior... it’s my desperate prayer, i scream out her name into the dying nature—it leads me out the maze so i’m with her. it’s a stranded forethought.” you feel tears well up into your eyes and you see tears well up in beomgyu’s too, hidden by the bright lights to the crowd, but not to you. never to you.

after a moment, he repeats with eyes closed in a silent plea, “don’t linger, don’t linger, light bringer, don’t linger. stay with me—send me your remembrances. please, don’t delete those kisses. don’t linger, light bringer. don’t linger.” the tears fall freely from your eyes at the way his voice softly echoes. echoes just like wind chimes in the blowing wind. you feel yeonjun pull you into a hug as a sob escapes your lips.

you don’t register the concert ending, the crowd getting smaller and smaller until there’s only a few stragglers. you move numbly as yeonjun pulls you along behind him. it’s not until you hear a familiar voice, beomgyu’s voice, that you suddenly come back to life.

yeonjun has taken you backstage. the two of you were making your way over to where beomgyu was standing, talking to someone you didn’t recognize, as he packed up his guitar. again, your eyes met, and you pulled your wrist from yeonjun’s grasp. you turned, wild eyes scanning for an exit as your feet moved without needing your input. “y/n, wait!” you heard voices from behind you. you kept going, the fear pushing you forwards faster.

it wasn’t until you were in front of the night bus, voices behind you as you pushed whatever money you had into the bus driver's hands, that you finally felt like you could breathe. the doors closed and the bus began moving as beomgyu and yeonjun ran up waving frantically. the bus kept moving. you looked through the window, terrified wide eyes reflecting back to you in the glass, at their fading figures. at beomgyu’s dejected eyes and yeonjun’s sorrowful ones. at the breaking of your heart, once again.

sighing heavily to yourself, you faced the front of the bus. what has gotten into you? why would you let yourself think that beomgyu would wait for you after these two long years? it was clear to you that what happened at that concert was a goodbye. and maybe you were okay with that. maybe you didn’t mind. you wiped the tears from your cheeks. it’s okay, you’ve always worked better on your own anyways. without the constant tingling of growing feelings, without the heavy stares that hold so much, without the newborn stars—without beomgyu.

when you get home, you waste no time with the alcohol you have. turning your phone off, locking all your doors and shutting all the curtains. you lay on your bed, drunk out of your mind looking up at the ceiling as you think, what if love’s not meant for me?

five days ago, you went to your ex-bestfriend’s concert and listened as he poured his heart out onto the stage for you; while you ran away from him like the echo of a wind chime in the wind.

beomgyu has taken over your mind. has soared through the mountains of your thoughts and settled gently in the valleys of your desires. lingered in the lakes and puddles and the big vast ocean of your memories. all you’ve been thinking about since the concert was him. he’s completely consumed you.

you had scrolled up and down your messages together, laughing at old jokes and shedding tears at old memories. retelling the jokes he made to yourself and pretending that they were yours to begin with as a permanent smile etched itself onto your features.

maybe this all was a sign. a sign that you should stop hiding in the four walls of your bedroom. a sign that you should find some way to contact beomgyu, rekindle the friendship you once used to have and maybe fan the flames of something greater. you wanted to scream from the rooftops about how much you loved beomgyu. tell the whole world about how he makes you feel and every little thing he does that just fills you with so much warmth.

you were scrolling through the photo album you still had of the two of you. at your silly faces and candid moments. you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face if you wanted to. you felt like a teenage girl, giggling softly as she wrote her crushes name in hearts all over her notebooks. wide smile as she wrote in her diary about how much her crush rocked her world. you didn’t care, you couldn’t help it. beomgyu did—he really did—make you feel this way. he’s turned your whole world upside down.

electricity flowed through you until you were so antsy and electric that you just had to do something before it drove you insane. you needed to tell beomgyu, to let whatever was between the two of you happen. needed to have him around you again after these two long years, even if just briefly. god, you felt like such a romantic cliché, but you felt alive.

opening your phone, you finally replied to all of the messages that yeonjun had sent you. they spanned from worried to disappointed to a resigned sadness. you only sent him one message in response:

you: is he still here?

you held your breath, mentally smacking yourself for not looking up beomgyu’s tour dates beforehand. mentally smacking yourself for not garnering the courage earlier. how stupid you were. your phone dinged from yeonjun’s reply:

jjunie: party tonight at 11:30pm. i’ll pick you up around 11. be ready.

breathing out a sigh of relief you looked at the clock. it was already 10pm. you raided your closet for your best looking outfit, throwing it on as you ran to your bathroom to put makeup on. you wanted to look your absolute best.

11pm couldn’t come fast enough. you were waiting by the door when yeonjun had knocked, him barely getting his second knock in before you flung the door wide open. “is it too late?” you asked him desperately, standing limply in the doorframe. yeonjun just chuckled at you and grabbed your wrist, leading you to his car, “never. not for the two of you.”

on the way over, yeonjun told you how the party was thrown by some big celebrity you never heard of and how beomgyu got the two of you invites. it was for such a good start on his sold out tour and debut album. “like, everyone is gonna be there,” yeonjun said to you as he drove around to find a parking space.

once you found somewhere to park, you and yeonjun made your way to the venue where the party was being held. you passed through all kinds of security until you were faced with blasting music in your ears and bodies dancing everywhere. holding tightly onto yeonjun to not get lost, the two of you scanned the crowd.

“do you want to get a drink?” yeonjun yelled over the music to you. you nodded and he led you through the crowd to where the bar was. the two of you got something and drank them silently by the bar. you felt bad for keeping yeonjun tied to you, so you yelled over the music to him, “you can go and mingle! i’ll be fine over here by myself!” he leaned towards you, furrowing his brows. “are you sure?” he asked and you nodded.

yeonjun made his way through the crowd, turning his charm on as he talked to various people. you stayed at the bar, sipping on various drinks until you felt very tipsy. your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for beomgyu, every minute or so.

that’s when you saw him. he was across the room, holding a glass of something and talking to a group of people, when his eyes drifted and just happened to meet yours. beomgyu rendered you completely speechless. you got a good look at him, not being able to do so that well from his place on the stage, and took in how much he’s changed in the past two years.

beomgyu’s short brown hair was now dark, tinged blue in the low scattered overhead lights. the back of it touched the nape of his neck and the front fell over his eyes and ears. he looked absolutely beautiful, even more beautiful than you remember him being. his eyes widened at seeing you, making the natural liner of his eyes stand out.

suddenly, just like at the concert, it felt like it was only the two of you in the room. his eyes widened at seeing you again, his mouth opening slightly. without knowing it, the two of you gravitated towards each other. then you were face to face, standing in front of each other in the flesh. you couldn’t believe it.

you both said each other’s names at the same time, letting out a nervous laugh after. he motioned for you to continue and you swallowed hard. you were thankful that you were tipsy, that the alcohol was smoothing your nerves, because you definitely wouldn’t be standing in front of beomgyu right now if you weren’t.

“beomie…” you trailed before correcting yourself, you didn’t want to pretend to know him like you use to after two years. “beomgyu… there’s no excuse. no apology even sincere enough—“ beomgyu had cut you off, “y/nie, you don’t have to apologize.”

you shook your head. you knew that you didn’t, that he had already forgiven you and moved past it. hell, he wrote a song about it. but you had to. you had to apologize in at least some way. “no, i do,” you stated. “i shouldn’t have let us drift away, shouldn’t have let us become strangers. i shouldn’t have pushed you away. you were my bestfriend and i was scared. i like you so much, so much that you enveloped me completely. my mind, my book, my life… everything.”

you inhaled deeply, looking longingly into beomgyu’s eyes like you had wanted to do now for so long. “all i thought about was you. all i think about is you. and i miss you. i missed you so much, beomgyu. i love you. i’ve always loved you—“ beomgyu sat his glass on the nearby table as you spoke, then cupped your face gently with both of his hands and collided his lips to yours in a passionate kiss to cut you off. it told you everything he was feeling, everything he’s felt for you for who knows how long now. you felt his song lyrics on your lips. felt how every last lyric was written for you, every melody. every atom of your being colliding with every atom of his and creating a beautiful newborn star.

when he pulled away, he pulled you into a desperate and tight hug. he held you so tight it was as if he thought you were a bird that would fly away. you couldn’t blame him, you kind of were. “i don’t think i need to tell you how much i love you, but i will. i’ll sing it in your ear softly and scream it at the top of my lungs for all the stars to witness, y/n. i love you,” beomgyu murmured into the crook of your neck.

you took his hand and led him out the venue. when you suddenly remembered that yeonjun took you here, beomgyu chuckled as he took you to his car. in the warm glow of your city at night, you pointed to various street signs and turns as beomgyu drove to your apartment.

inside your apartment, the two of you couldn’t keep your mouths off each other. the wanting—the need—lifting you up to cloud nine and making you dizzy. when you both somehow got to your bedroom, you were breathless and hot to the touch.

beomgyu had pulled away from you. “is this okay?” he asked, looking into your eyes. you saw the desire inside of them. you nodded, “yes, just please don’t stop kissing me.” and he obliged, his lips on yours again.

one by one, articles of clothing came off. there was brief awkwardness, the hem of your dress getting caught on the earrings you were wearing and the button of his pants refusing to come undone. it all was alright in the end when the two of you were laying on your bed, you only in your bra and panties and him only in his boxers, his huge bulge pressing into your thigh as he hovered above you.

you were growing needy, the alcohol edging you onwards. “beomgyu… i need you inside me,” you whimpered against his mouth as his hard boner rubbed against you. he hummed, lips moving to your neck, causing you to moan. “i need you to fuck me…” you breathed out. beomgyu pulled away with the slightest upturn of his lips.

he sat you up so that you were now straddling his lap as he reached behind you and unclasped your bra. “next time…” beomgyu murmured. “next time i’ll fuck you. but not tonight. tonight… we stop being strangers.” you shivered slightly at your already hardened nipples being exposed to the cool air. shivering more when beomgyu’s wet tongue circled them.

“is that okay?” beomgyu asked, staring into your eyes as he waited for your response. you nodded, unintentionally grinding against him, and moaned out, “yes.” his fingers had gripped your bare waist at the contact and his eyes shut tightly for a brief moment. “next time… i promise you. let me get to know your body again.”

and get to know your body, he did. beomgyu laid you back down gently and then pulled off your panties slowly while staring down at you, eyes caressing every inch of you. you felt yourself getting wetter by the second, gripping the blankets to keep yourself from pulling him to you.

beomgyu pressed his lips to yours once more as he spread your legs apart. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin as he moved farther and farther down your body, looking up at you the entire time. you jolted slightly when he pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs. “you’re so breathtaking, even more than before,” beomgyu spoke, trailing kisses up to your knee. he paused for a second, “i missed you so much, y/n.”

his tongue then swirled around your clit and your back arched off the bed, your hands finding their way into his pretty hair. beomgyu groaned, pulling away from your core with a wet mouth, as you pulled at it. just as quickly, he was back at it, making you moan for him as he devoured you. you creating pretty harmonies for him.

“fuck…” beomgyu said lowly. you could see how hard his cock was in his boxers and it made you need him even more. he then pushed two fingers into you, them slipping in easily with how wet you were for him. beomgyu pulled you up from the bed as he continued pushing his fingers in and out of you, tipping your head back and capturing your lips in a sweet and slow kiss. your tongues danced together, waltz together as you clenched around his fingers.

pulling away, you buried your face in his neck as you whimpered his name. “cum for me, baby,” beomgyu said in your ear softly. you didn’t need to be told twice, your warm release spreading all over his fingers.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, “i-i need you, please… your—your fingers aren’t e-enough.” beomgyu chuckled as he nodded. you released your hold on him so he could take off his boxes, his long and hard cock on full display for you. you used to dream of moments like these.

beomgyu looked at you, asking silently if you were ready. in response, you shakily got to your knees. he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly, you slid down onto him. the both of you gasped at the feeling, moans joining together in a beautiful song as you moved up and down on his cock.

you were giving each other sloppy and needy kisses, beomgyu wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer as he thrusted up into your pussy. you gasped against his lips, your hands laying to rest against his chest. he whimpered as he continued thrusting, “you feel so—so good. so good, baby. do you f-feel good?”

“y—oh… it feels s-so good,” you managed out. you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust he pushed into you. with the feeling of his veiny shaft inside you, sending electric currents throughout your body. the feeling of his lips on yours. moaning, you pulled away and rested your forehead on beomgyu’s. “i’m gonna c-cum again, gyu.”

he moved you so your back was against the bed again, your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock still deep inside you. groaning at the new angle, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. “let me help you, baby. l-let me do the work,” beomgyu mumbled before you kissed him.

in passionate thrusts, you came around him again and a few seconds later you felt his warm cum pour inside of you. his hips jerked against yours and he let out a whine as he rolled into you, not planning on slowing down. “b-beomgyu…” you whimpered, gripping him tighter and throwing your head back so you were staring hazily at the ceiling. you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“l-look at me, my pretty baby, i n-need to see your face,” beomgyu said between hard pants. between the sounds of your skin slapping together and the wet sounds of him entering and exiting you repeatedly. you looked at him through knitted brows, your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back. “f-fuck… god, you d-don’t know what you d-do to me,” he murmured, eyes shutting for a moment. you pulled him down to kiss his jaw. “feels… feels so…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you clenched around him again.

beomgyu was twitching inside you more and more and you could tell he was overstimulating himself just to make you feel good. his words of praise were being slurred as he stared deeply into your eyes, breathing erratically.

when the two had came together, you couldn’t take anymore. your legs were shaking badly and your back was beginning to ache from how much you kept arching it. pushing beomgyu away until he was hovering above you, you barely managed to whimper out in a whisper, “c-can’t take it a-anymore, beomie…”

at your words he slipped out of you slowly, groaning loudly as you clenched tightly around his poor cock the whole way out. “y/n…” beomgyu moaned. he hovered above you for a moment, forehead pressed to yours and arms trembling, before falling down next to you. beomgyu pulled you towards him until you were wrapped in his body. you tried not to think about how his still half hard cock was up against your sensitive pussy. his breath fanning your skin and sending a shiver up your spine.

the two of you stayed like that for a couple minutes, coming down from your highs and breathing the same air. beomgyu had been trailing lines down your torso with the tips of his fingers, leaving goosebumps in his wake. you could feel his smile against your cheek at the way your body reacted to his touch.

when you both were strong enough to get up, he cleaned the cum from between your legs and his with a warm and wet towel and then guided you to the bathroom. beomgyu drew a bubble bath for the both of you, helping you inside of it when your legs began to shake and your knees almost gave out.

now you laid back against his chest inside the bathtub, one of his hands trailing up and down your arm with a washcloth and the other wrapped tightly against your lower stomach. “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this…” beomgyu trailed off softly. you turned slightly so you could look up at him. “you don’t know how long i wanted this either. how long i wanted to be with you in general.”

beomgyu smiled warmly down at you, that same warm smile he would give you every time you sang together. “how long?” he asked, playfulness slipping into his tone. “for as long as i can remember,” you giggled. “for as long as i’ve known you.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, the action sending ripples to your heart. “i’ve wanted it for longer,” he replied, laughing when you playfully scoffed up at him. “this isn’t our first life together.”

that sentiment made you turn in the tub to face him fully, your eyebrows knitting together and your eyes full of fondness. it almost brought tears to your eyes. “beomgyu…” you murmured as you cupped his face softly and brought your lips to his. you kissed him slowly, trying to show him how much you loved him through it. your actions and words alone will never be able to fully express how you feel for him.

after the two of you cleaned up more in the bath, you laid side by side in your bed. thankfully, you still had some of beomgyu’s clothes that you just couldn’t get rid of from when you still lived together and you would steal them. you were in one of beomgyu’s old shirts now, body up against his in the darkness of your bedroom.

“i’m gonna miss you when you leave to go back on tour. i don’t want you to leave,” you whispered softly into the darkness. you weren’t very good at expressing your fears out loud, clearly. but you had to let him know. had to let him know that you didn’t want this to be just a one time thing and you never see each other again. “so come with me,” beomgyu replied at your same tone, simply. “come with me and we won’t have to miss each other.”

you couldn’t help but think of the lyrics of the song he wrote for you, the one the two of you would sing together. “over the canopy, it’s each other that we always seem to miss.” he was right about ‘graze’ having a whole new meaning in his interview. first, it meant the longing between the two of you. always dancing around each other, fingertips always seeming to just brush up against the other’s but never fully grasping. then, it meant the two of you drifting apart. missing the opportunity to admit your feelings and be together. and lastly, right now. right in this moment, the two of you together again after two long years. missing each other until your heart aches even though you’re right next to each other. it is funny how meanings change.

“okay,” you giggled softly. “i’ll come with you.” you weren’t going to linger. he was right, this wasn’t your first life together, you could feel it. you were gonna stay with him forever. beomgyu pulled you closer, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

last night, your world was turned back on it’s rightful axis as you and your bestfriend beomgyu—your lover beomgyu, sealed the two of your souls together.

that morning you both had woken up to a ton of missed calls and a plethora of text messages. you both stared at each other with wide eyes after realizing that the two of you had basically silently walked out of the celebration that was held for beomgyu. yeonjun scolding the two of you when he realized that not only was beomgyu not at his own party, but that you weren’t there either.

quick kisses and giggles were shared as beomgyu raced to get ready for the schedule he had to do today. “text me, okay? i want to hear from you. i’ll let you know when we’re leaving for the next stop, so get your bags ready,” beomgyu said, throwing his coat on and pressing another kiss to your lips, deepening the kiss for just a moment before he pulled away.

you were standing by the door, a lovesick smile on your face, “i will!” you giggled as he stalled more and pulled you into a hug. “and don’t delete the kisses,” he whispered, kissing your cheek before finally making his way through the door. you waved goodbye to him and shut the door, immediately pulling out your phone.

you: i’ll see you later today. good luck on your interview! xxx

there was an immediate response from him and you giggled as you read it and responded.

beomie: thank you, baby! i love you!! you: i love you more!! xxx beomie: i love you more than there are stars in the sky!!! you: and i love you more than there are galaxies in our universe!!!! xxx beomie: okay… you win… but only because i can’t think of anything better!!!

laughing, you went to your room and started packing the things you needed for beomgyu’s tour.

two years ago—four since the beginning—you left the kisses at the end of your messages to your boyfriend beomgyu.

you were backstage just before one of his shows with him and yeonjun. beomgyu’s arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his side. your mouth was currently hung open in shock at yeonjun’s revealing news.

“i’m sorry, y/nie, but i just had to tell him. two years i had to listen to the both of you cry over each other—two years! i couldn’t do it anymore. i had to tell him about the things you were saying!” yeonjun sighed dramatically as if he were so defeated. you pushed his shoulder lightly, “you ass! then you had the nerve to set the two of us up at beomgyu’s concert with the tickets he gave you!”

beomgyu let out a laugh from next to you, laughing louder when you turned a playful glare to him. “if i didn’t…” yeonjun trailed as he spoke to you with raised eyebrows, “you two wouldn’t be together right now. now would you?” you rolled your eyes at him, wrapping your arms around beomgyu and laying your head on his chest.

“i’d like to think we would find our way back together,” beomgyu spoke, looking down at you. you smiled up at him in return. “uh huh…” said yeonjun, causing the three of you to erupt into laughter.

since beomgyu’s debut album and tour to go along with it, he’s released two more albums. all of the songs about you, once again. in every interview he had, he gushed about you to whoever would listen. you’ve also finally published your book, deciding to let beomgyu’s essence flow through the entirety of it. you couldn’t remove him even if you tried. and trust, you had tried.

one of the staff members gave a signal to beomgyu and he nodded back and gave a thumbs up. it was almost time for him to be on stage. for the first time ever, you were singing ‘graze’ and ‘forethought’ together with their whole new meanings.

you stared at beomgyu’s stunning side profile as he peeked out to the crowd. you almost laughed at yourself, at your past thoughts. of course love was meant for you. of course you and beomgyu were meant to be together, meant to be in love. meant to share each of your lifetimes and universes and supernovas and nebulas and brand new brightly burning newborn stars together.

of course the two of you were meant to love each other forever, how could you ever think differently?

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047 @riaawr

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again, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten as the pleasure got too much for you. “beomgyu, i’m gonna c-cum again,” you spoke shakily, pushing at his shoulders. everytime the two of you were together he insisted that the main position you fucked in was missionary. “you’re face is way too pretty to just be pushed down into the sheets,” beomgyu had said.

beomgyu pressed his lips to yours, half kissing you and half moaning, “cum for me, baby. one last time.” your nails dug into his shoulders and you leaned your head back towards the headboard as you came undone. still, beomgyu slid in and out of you, helping you chase your high. his lips were on your jaw and slight whimpers were coming out of his mouth as he came right after you.

you looked at beomgyu through hooded lids and furrowed brows as you felt him release inside you once again. whining a little, you kissed him hard. after this, he would leave and you would be alone again. you didn’t want the time the two of you were spending together to end, even if the ever growing stickiness between your thighs was starting to get a little uncomfortable. you were definitely going to have to wash your sheets and comforter a couple times after this, the mix of both of your cum was all over it.

beomgyu slid out of you and fell onto the bed next to you, his hair falling over his eyes as he looked over to you. he tapped a finger to your lips, his body catching the light from the thin sheen of sweat all over him. “good?” beomgyu asked you. you giggled and nodded, “very good.” beomgyu smiled at you and got up from the bed, the sunlight coming through from the blinds lighting up with slightly dark room.

“shower with me,” beomgyu said as he walked around to your side of the bed. he held out his hand to you and you had to resist the urge to take in his naked body in front of you. you’ve seen him naked more times that you could count now, but it always shocked you to see how delicious he looked. you stood up slowly, wincing slightly from the pain in your legs, and took his hand.

you had some of beomgyu’s clothes, either from him keeping some at your apartment for future hookups or him accidentally leaving some at your place after rushing out. you didn’t mind really, it was more convenient and you liked wearing his shirts to bed after he left.

“if i can get up…” you trailed as you moved to him. “i wasn’t expecting to go for that long today,” you added as you wobbled slightly. beomgyu smirked down at you as he held you steady. “i didn’t hear you complaining,” he replied as you both made your way to your bathroom.

rolling your eyes at him playfully as you leaned against the sink, you murmured under your breath, “and you never will.” thankfully, him turning the water on covered your words. becoming fuck buddies was risky enough to the strange friendship you and beomgyu had, but adding your feelings into the mix would be catastrophic. sometimes you felt like your friendship was hanging off the ledge and one wrong move would completely destroy it and you would lose beomgyu forever.

the sound of the shower curtains drawing pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over to beomgyu. “come on,” he said and stepped into the shower and behind the curtains. you walked over and pulled the curtains back slightly to peer in at him. beomgyu’s back was to you and he was under the running water as you stepped into the shower. he turned to you with a small smile and moved you towards the water.

the two of you worked in silence as you washed your bodies, occasionally helping each other, until you were clean. you were both now sitting on your bed watching the sunrise through the window that you opened to let in the fresh air. “let me take you out to dinner,” beomgyu suddenly said, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “i feel like an asshole after we have sex. i don’t want you to feel like i’m just using you,” he then added.

isn’t that what this is though? maybe not him explicitly using you per se, but him just being here for the sex? you knitted your brows together as you thought over his proposal. you tried not to let yourself fall into the thought that beomgyu might want something more than this. you didn’t want to go through the heartbreak if you turned out to be wrong.

what damage could you going out to dinner with him do? “okay,” you nodded, speaking softly. beomgyu’s face lit up with a smile and he brought his lips to yours, causing your heart to race and your face to heat up significantly. the two of you did all the intimate things couples do, except you weren’t one. it made your head spin.

“later on today!” beomgyu exclaimed as he got up from the bed. he started to collect his things from around your bedroom. your heart sank as you realized he was about to leave. “around noon. i’ll pick you up!” he added. you put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes as you nodded again. “i’ll see you then!” you laughed breezily, hoping to come off as carefree as you got up and followed him to the door.

beomgyu pressed another kiss to your mouth before turned to leave. you waved goodbye to him as he jogged to his car before shutting your door. pressing your head to the coldness of the door, you breathed in deeply. you desperately needed to sort out your feelings before this all became a mess.

you smoothed out your dress again as you stood in front of the mirror by your door. taking a deep breath, you checked the time on your phone again. beomgyu would be arriving any minute, which was confirmed from the incoming text of him saying he was around the corner. you still weren’t sure if this classified as a date or not and you tried—and failed miserably—to steel your nerves.

there was a knock at your door, causing you to jump. you took one last deep breath before opening it to beomgyu on the other side. a small smile grew on his face. “hi,” beomgyu said, taking in your appearance. “you look pretty!” you couldn’t help but smile back at him, especially after he called you pretty. everytime you looked at him your heart fluttered and leaped around in your chest, begging to be let free. “hi,” you replied softly, your smile growing. “thank you, you look pretty too!”

“are you ready?” beomgyu asked with a slight laugh and you nodded. he led you to his car and the two of you began the drive to whatever restaurant beomgyu had picked out.

at the restaurant, which was quite fancy from the looks of it, you got a table towards the back where it wasn’t as crowded. now you sat across from beomgyu, menu in hand, as your face heated from the sheer thought of the situation you were in. the waiter had come and taken your orders so now it was just a waiting game. you and beomgyu had been making small talk as you tried to ignore the slight grumbling of your stomach.

“i know you said you felt like an asshole, but you didn’t have to take me to dinner,” you said, letting a smile form on your face. you were trying to gauge his intentions to make your anxiety go down since pushing your feelings away clearly wasn’t working. “i do. and yeah, i did feel like an asshole, but that was mainly an excuse to ask you out to dinner with me,” beomgyu said.

you almost started to choke from an inhale gone wrong but manage to cover it up. you stared at beomgyu with wide eyes, “you wanted to take me out to dinner?” beomgyu laughed and leaned towards you slightly. “of course! who wouldn’t want to take you out to dinner?” the waiter came back with your food and you waited for them to leave before speaking.

“well you don’t really take someone you’re casually fucking out to dinner,” you blurted, stabbing your fork into the food you got. you froze as you realized what you just said. without missing a beat, beomgyu replied, “then let’s stop being casual.”

looking up at him, mouth agape, you struggled to form words. all you could manage was a choked, “what?” beomgyu shrugged and repeated his words, a smirk growing on his face. “we already do everything a couple does—kiss, fuck… and it’s not like i’m seeing anybody else—don’t even have the desire to. you’re the only one i want,” beomgyu shrugged again like he was simply saying the grass was green as he ate his food. he then looked up at you through his lashes, “unless you’re seeing someone?”

you forced your mouth to stop hanging wide open. “you want me?” you asked seriously, setting your fork onto your plate with a slight ‘clang!’ beomgyu stopped eating and looked at you, tilting his head to the side as he let out a small laugh. “y/n, are you serious?” he asked you as if you were joking around with him. when you were silent he sat his utensils down and stared at you for a couple seconds.

“i just spent hours having sex with you. you think i’d spend hours having sex with someone if i only wanted a quick fuck?” beomgyu then ask you seriously. you shrugged and looked down, pushing your food around on your plate. “being fuck buddies is different for everyone… how was i supposed to know you wanted me back?” you trailed. beomgyu gave you a bewildered look, mouth slightly ajar.

he then called over the waiter and asked for the bill and to-go boxes. you stared at him in confusion, “what are you doing?” beomgyu just shook his head at you, saying nothing. the waiter brought what he asked for and he handed you one of the to-go boxes as he paid. “beomgyu,” you spoke as he moved his food into the box. you were confused on what was happening as you mimicked his actions.

once the two of you were finished, beomgyu stood from his chair, to-go box in hand. “let’s go,” he said. you rose to your feet and grabbed your things with furrowed brows, “go where?” you desperately needed answers. “my place,” is all he said as he started towards the entrance of the restaurant.

the drive to beomgyu’s place was silent. he pushed open his front door and dragged you inside towards his bedroom, abandoning your food on the kitchen counter. you stood awkwardly in the middle of his room as you waited for some sort of explanation. “do i want you?” he murmured under his breath sarcastically like it was some joke. beomgyu turned to you suddenly, “are you seeing someone else?”

“of course not!” you exclaimed, brows knitting further together. “okay then,” beomgyu replied as he began stripping off his clothes. “what is going on?” you asked frustrated.

“i’m showing you i want you,” is all beomgyu simply said, now only in his boxers. he came up to you and grabbed the hem of your dress, taking it completely off in one swift movement. you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, so now your breasts were on full display for him, nipples perking up from the sudden coldness. beomgyu’s lips were on yours in an instant as his hands slid up your waist.

you returned his kiss as you pressed your body to his for some type of warmth. “you could’ve waited until after we ate,” you murmured against beomgyu’s lips. you felt him smile and he guided you back to the bed. “lay down,” beomgyu said, breaking away from you. his finger hooked onto the hem of your underwear, “and take these off.”

your heart was racing as you slid your underwear down and climbed onto beomgyu’s bed. heat pulled at your core as you waited for him to make the next move. beomgyu smirked at you as he slowly pulled his boxers down against his hard bulge. his cock sprang out, causing your eyes to widen a little.

now that your mind was clear for once, you really took in just how big beomgyu’s cock was. pressing your thighs together and shifting on the bed, your face heated at the fact that it was about to be inside you. beomgyu stroked himself a couple times before stepping towards the bed. he climbed overtop of you, causing you to lay down onto your back.

the tip of his cock was rubbing against your clit and it sent shivers through your body. your pussy throbbed even more at the contact. “how could you be so clueless?” beomgyu asked you before his lips captured yours. his hand trailed down to your pussy and his thumb started to rub circles into your clit. you moaned into his mouth, hips rocking upwards, “you should’ve just told me.” your voice was starting to come up breathy as your hips grinded up towards his hand.

beomgyu slipped his fingers inside you, “why didn’t you tell me?” your brain fogged over, small moans escaping your lips as he pumped in and out of you. your wetness made it easy, and the slight squelching sounds set your body on fire. you kissed beomgyu to try and stifle your whimper. “gonna cum,” you breathed out, completely ignoring beomgyu’s question.

you threw your head back into the pillow and beomgyu trailed kisses along your neck as the knot in your stomach tightened. you wrapped your arms around beomgyu’s neck and brought his face to yours as your legs started to tremble, kissing him hard. your hips rolled up as you came around his fingers, breathing heavily as you put your forehead to beomgyu’s.

beomgyu kissed you sweetly for a moment before pulling away to hover over you. he lined his cock with your entrance and slowly slid inside you, brows furrowing. “fuck, baby,” he said as he bottomed out. beomgyu began sliding in and out of you at a decent rate, his head bowed as he watched your cum coat his cock, before picking up his pace.

you cried out as he pressed your thighs to your stomach, using the advantage to fuck into you deeper. “you can take it, baby. i know you can,” beomgyu said before giving you a chaste kiss, a whimper spilling out of his mouth after. he filled you up so much you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. you felt every inch of him, especially the tip of his cock hitting against your sweet spot. it made tears prick your eyes and your teeth to bite down hard on your bottom lip.

“you like that? you like when i fuck into you like that? when i make you feel good?” beomgyu breathed, staring down at your whimpering figure. you squirmed underneath him, eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, “mhm, p-please don’t stop!”

beomgyu sloppily kissed you, slight grunts vibrating against your mouth as he continued fucking you. “it feels so good,” you murmured, trying to grind up into him in any way that you could. beomgyu’s hands gripping your thighs and pinning you to the bed made it impossible. beomgyu moaned, head falling with tightly knitted brows and you felt him twitch inside you.

“mmm, baby you’re gonna make me cum with how fucking tight you are around me,” he said lowly. beomgyu’s voice was so attractive, especially when he lowered it. that it made the rope inside you snap and you came all over his cock, a whimpering mess beneath him. “that’s it, baby. fuck…” beomgyu trailed and his grip on your thighs tightened as he feverishly stroked in and out of your pussy faster.

your nails dug into his shoulders as you cried out again, shallow moans pouring out of you as your back arched off the bed. “t-too much!” you whimpered.

“take it,” beomgyu demanded as he continued his pace. his head fell back and his mouth hung open as you watched his hips roll back and forth through watery eyes.

“shit…” beomgyu said, breathing hard as he came inside you, filling you up even more. his strokes faltered as he rode out his high and you whined loudly underneath him, squirming from your sensitive pussy. beomgyu leaned down and brought his lips to yours to slowly kiss you.

“my baby,” he said airily, pecking your lips before pulling away. you looked at him through hooded eyes and tear stained cheeks, not even registering his words. beomgyu chuckled at you before kissing your cheek and then your neck. “my baby, always so good. i could fuck you for days,” he said against your neck, leaving goosebumps on your skin.

beomgyu leaned back and slowly pulled out of you, a wince on his face. you felt empty without him inside you, without his big cock filling you up to the brim. you felt the cum drip out of you and whimpered slightly. beomgyu laid down onto the bed next to you and pulled you towards him. “my clueless, fucked out baby,” beomgyu laughed as you settled into him. you giggled and pushed at his chest a little, “shut up!” beomgyu pressed a kiss to your forehead as he laughed more.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047

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Choi Yeonjun is a man. In a broad pair of shoulders, the sharp coffee and black pepper that clings to his skin that lingers in the warm pulse points when you press your face into them, and how he keeps himself put together in clothes without the wrinkles of a twice-worn thing off the carpet like the guys your age, who you could ask if they do exactly that and they would shrug and tell you that they did. Not Yeonjun. None of that was what truly set him apart, nor the things that put that stamp of ratified man on his integrity.

That was in the opening doors for you. He insists on it. He doesn't want your hands on any car door handles, only wants to hear the click of the heels bought on his dime hitting the ground when you step out after him. And he wasn't afraid to tell you it, either. It was in how he took the burden of ordering for you at the diners he took you, with the warm crystal lights that hung low over your table as he'd thumb the back of your hand. In how that card of his was yours, too.

You were sitting in bed after a thorough, all brand new, skincare routine, when he proposed the flight to Hawaii. A face mask seeped into your skin as you gawked into the glow of the screen. If he had only see your face. He tells you it's the best part.

11:00pm [Yeonjun]: We have a suite booked in O'ahu for this weekend. Do you need anything for it, baby?

11:00pm [Yeonjun]: Pack light, you'll be coming home with more than you came.

11:01pm [Yeonjun]: How does that sound?

It was that part that made your stomach twist up like it was in there jump-roping. It always is the way he talks to you; because, what kind of question is that? He knew exactly how it sounded. His texting mannerisms scream older, succinct with an air of a man who knows exactly how off-guard this all still leaves you. He is so cruel, in the most savory way. It has long since been decided that men age like wine. They sit on a shelf and mature, until they're more rich and deep. Or at least until they've had their fun, their money, and are left with an itch to funnel it all into making something bloom pretty at his attention and spoiling.

Honolulu is so much alike the post cards, and in the same vein, so much different. It's a bustling metropolis with buildings that scrape the turquoise sky. The beach is within walking distance from your hotel, and that is just as peppered with tourists in cover-ups they probably bought right from the ABC store along the strip.

"Waikiki looks nothing like I thought it did," you say. A piña colada daiquiri sweats in your hand under the thick sun. It's hot here. Not like the bone dry heat of summer back at home, but instead it's thick on your skin like a layer of salt off the breeze. You fiddle with the tropical ribbons of your bikini bottoms at the swell of your hip. Lazy and pampered, and nobody could deny it. You wouldn't.

With his arms tucked behind his head on a tanning chair adjacent to yours, he grins. "What did you think it was?" He runs his finger around the rim of his own drink. He'd made you sip off it and found the wrinkle of your nose at the burn humorous.

Not full on city with the same beeping cars and traffic as home, perhaps. Your shoulders have long since turned pink. Your cheeks, a radiant burn to match. It tugs every time your face moves like the skin's just a bit too tight. "Like… When you think of Hawaii, the first thing you think of. That." It's about time you roast your other side. Or else you'll be glowing red on your front and springtime pale at the back. The cheeky bottoms of your bikini's ridden up with all your lounging, the soft spot where your ass meets thigh turned up this way around. Yeonjun doesn't look away when you catch him getting an eyeful. "That guy didn't even ID me." The spot where your nose presses to your pillow of crossed arms smells like sweat and coconutty sunscreen.

"He's not gonna ask you while I'm there," Yeonjun says. He holds one hand up like a visor over his eyes, looking at you under it. The shirt he'd changed into as soon as you hit the room There's a healthy glow set deep in his skin that leads you to suspect that, even if this is the first time he's taken you on a pretty penny vacation, it's not his first. It's a deep, bronze that speaks of a tan that's built on. You're not his first sugar baby. That's something you've come to terms with. It gets a little easier with a swipe of the card.

"Why…?"

Thumbing the crease of your bottom, he supplies his answer with a hum. "It's his job to sell it. This whole city loves a dollar bill." Lifting his own glass, he adds, "And that kid's not trying to offend me by asking."

That kid. A guy somewhere near your age, give or take. It's always those little things that send a furious, brilliant storm of butterflies through your belly. The little ways he reminds you exactly what he is. They never come in grand gestures. More in the way he just moves through the world, and how it bends around his shape to meet him. He didn't ask the associates in the luxury stores he takes you shopping in to perk up and run to serve him, knowing he'll buy. They just do it.

A handful of girls three rows down laugh with one another over the holistic sound of the resort pools. Lifeguards, kids here on vacation with parents glad they're cannon-balling into the pools and bothering the group of twenty-somethings with palms over the mouth of their tumbler glasses to save themselves the misery of discovering how teal, chlorine water mixed with margarita. Sweat has glued your cheek to where it squishes against your upper arm. You keep your head oriented to watch him. "But can't they get in trouble for that?" Talking comes difficult. The heat makes you too lazy. You can hardly even summon the words.

Smiling at that, he answers, "If they get caught, yeah." The muscles dormant in his biceps ripple as he crosses his arms about his chest. He didn't hit the gym; not that you knew of. But he maintains that like he does. Another thing that seems to just come with the whole matured, better, older man package.

That felt topically ironic. Especially considering that you never do intend to be caught. You dread the thought so hard that you've learned to banish it the moment it springs up. It's easier this way. And way more fun. It's not like you never thought about it; toeing the line in the sand without ever really letting the tide rush in on you. "This stuff is so sweet. Should I have another one?"

That gets a kick out of him. "Yeah? You like it?" Yeonjun says. There's a languor dripping off the way he does, sticky like the air. "That's because it's rum, babygirl. All sugar."

Your throat goes all tight. Fumbling after words, you quickly say, "It taste like a smoothie."

"That's why you don't need another one." He laughs. "It hits you faster than you think it will. Especially with the heat." Then, picking up the drink, he drinks down what you hadn't gotten to you. Those expressive brows twist. "Shit, that's sweet."

You only smile and watch him cross his arms back. They look fit to throw you any which way, or even to carry all the bags he would snatch from you before you even got to try and carry yourself. "Okay, it's not that sweet."

Not in any hurry, never in any hurry, he gets that look on his face that you've come to know to mean that he's guiding the conversation a different way. He corrals you so easily that you tend to not even notice that you're on the next topic. He takes control of any conversation with such ease. On your first date, you had been a shaking, shy thing sat across from him. It didn't matter much. With a little steering you and a handsome smile as he listened to you answer his questions, the burden of even carrying conversations was off your shoulders. That was his job, he'd told you later on when you told him how terrified you were.

"I was thinking about heading back to the suite," he starts. The sharp lines of his eyes linger on you like he's plotting it all out in real time, and there's a prospective smoothness to his voice. As if he'd already playing it all out in his head, and he knows exactly what he has in store for you. "Getting dressed. No need to rush, we have all night. We're here to enjoy ourselves. And then head down to the beach walk, shop around, get you some things to try on for me." He doesn't even smirk. Nothing to justify the way your stomach swoops quick. "And I put a reservation in at this nice, low-key grill for us after. If we need to come back real quick to drop off your stuff, we can." Taking one last drink off his glass, he says, "Sound good, baby?"

Sound good? How could you have any objections? You blink at him for a moment. Up until yesterday, you'd never even flown overseas. Vacations meant twelve hour drives and scrapping with your siblings and the blankets and luggage for space in the car, just to end up squished against the door anyway. You were half lead to believe that things like this happened only on T.V. or for faceless people in a tax bracket you knew you'd never touch. And yet…

"What? Do you have something else in mind?" His lips do quirk now, perhaps because he knows exactly what. "We can do whatever your sweet heart wants. No need to be shy with me. We're here for you. Me and Hawaii are good friends."

You rush to correct yourself. "No, that's, like, perfect." Pressing up to your elbows, still baking your backside, you say, "I've just never done this before."

He's heard that before, that first time you were intimate with him. You never imagined your first to be a man with sixteen years on you, who was not your boyfriend but instead something suspended in an awkward space between that and something else. Something that makes your blood rise to your ears and lie to everybody you know. A year ago, two, you would've turned your nose up at another girl for sitting in Hawaii on a man's money. After all, down to its core, it's only a trade, isn't it? The sugar in sugar daddy is the tan in your skin and the necklace at your throat studded, in the shape of a 'Y', in true diamonds. And in sugar baby, it was something much more coveted. Well, you couldn't sneer at yourself now; couldn't have known that it could come like him, and not in a sixty year old man who had to pay for sex because he wouldn't get it otherwise.

"Good." He leans back into his low pool chair, the perfect image of the leisure that is company to what he is. But he's got an airy, soft thing going on with his mouth as the sun rushes back over it. "Maybe we'll go out on a boat tomorrow, too."

He doesn't even have to ask to know the answer.

When Yeonjun means get whatever you want, he means that. Not metaphorically. Not loosely, not a ceiling that you might accidentally brush if you got overeager. There wasn't a budget. Not on you. You have your questions concerning where, exactly, he might have all this money. His Seeking profile didn't even tell. And when you asked, he kissed you and said, "I'm old enough to know that you don't really care about my job. You'd get bored to hell of it eventually. So let's not open that door anyway."

Whatever that meant. You gleaned enough from the dress shirts and ironed slacks that it wasn't anything too mystifying. It was, maybe, a bit overdramatic in the way he said it. Or maybe it was your own head that did the work of imagining some big secret.

Bushes with a deep, waxy green up against pink and white Plumerias with yellow blooming at their centers, stand opposite to the glowing warm storefronts which stud the sidewalk. Your hotel is right in the heart of it all. You step out, and you're right there in downtown Honolulu. Clearly, you two had the same idea as everybody else did. It must be the season back home. The streets are packed. Groups of girls walk with their elbows linked with Leis around their necks, probably coming from a restaurant where they were handed out, couples with kids and couples here hoping to get away from theirs, they all have the same essence about them as you feel in your chest. You feel like you're just gawking at stupid things with stars in your eyes like you've never seen a bush, or a lit-up tourist trap. But how did you even get here? Here, where something sweet hangs and makes the air even heaver. Maybe those flowers. Or the street vendors boasting cups of million-dollar pineapple chunks with the rinds still on and passion fruit stuffed in with papayas, and the way it overlaps with the salt from the water. The shoreline is close enough from here than you can watch the black water rush up and disturb the sand.

"You look beautiful," Yeonjun had told you when you stepped out of the bathroom. He didn't need any flowery enhancers to sound like he meant it. He told you in the simplicity that he was unafraid to use, and even more potently, in the lingering inventory he takes of the dress. His hands had flexed where they were shoved into his pockets in patiently waiting. Because he know more than any man, maybe, that patience paid sweeter. He didn't just enjoy the silhouette the sundress made, though you know he definitely did enjoy that. You're still suffering the echoes in your knees that the smolder in his eyes had made shake. But he made sure to enjoy the golden bangles that made feminine, sparkling sounds as you slipped into your heels. How they complimented the sunset pinks and oranges of the tropical floral fabric, and made the sanguine flush to your cheeks speak.

He had stopped, especially, at your neck. Traced the shape of that 'Y' as it glittered. And if anybody were to ask, you were certain that his throat had bobbed.

Now, he keeps one steady hand at your back and the other in his pants. He is an impossibly handsome man, in the most literal sense of the word. But night makes him something else. It cuts the lines of his face which had an angle to them that you could only attribute to aging. His eyes were slow and pleased and all over you and the view your push-up bra makes. "Do you want one?" he asks when your eyes linger on a stand selling Hibiscus flowers. The ones the grew well and didn't get too beat up by the elements, which tourists like to pluck off the bush anyway.

"I mean… They're, like, fifteen dollars." That was a good meal's worth, as far as you were concerned. You could go without. "That's crazy. People just pick them anyway."

"Fifteen dollars to look beautiful on you," he says, "is nothing. Do you know how expensive you look right now, sweetheart?" Passing the person running the stand a bill, he takes your chin with his thumb and tucks a yellow one behind your ear. It's huge, flirting with your eyes and brushing against your temples. Approval flashes over his gaze. "There we go. Now you look like you're in Hawaii."

God. Nothing about that should make your head go so dumb.

You make your way down the street doing pretty much the same. You dip in and out of stores, racking up bags in his free hand. He has no complaints to give. It's something chemical to him. Like foreplay, watching your eyes light up and your mouth go shy with every yes. Yes, yes, yes. That's his favorite word.

Of course you drag him into Sephora. The black-and-white storefront pulls you in with gravity amidst the high-end stores and the shops with the shot glasses and tees plastered with Waikiki beach regalia. He lets you browse and drop things into the shopping basket. You giggle when you catch sight of him, there in his fine muslin button down pushed to his elbows, veins peeking out with the strain, classy sunglasses pushing his hair off his forehead, balancing the damage you'd already done in one hand and the carnage that will ensue at checkout here in the other. With a playing smile on his face, he says, "Don't you want to do something you can't do at home?"

"I can't shop at Sephora in Hawaii at home." You take your lip into your teeth to fight a coquettish grin. A toasty lip liner lands in the cart with a plastic sound of the packaging. "I'm like a thousand percent sure they have stuff here that we just don't have at home." The one by your place is half the size, and even less stocked. You'd probably had a hand in that.

"You've gotten spoiled," Yeonjun says, and you think it sounds like lust. "I've made you into a little money monster. You used to be so shy."

You gasp with affront, coloring your words precisely spoiled. "Me? Not even close. You have to beg me to spend money on myself!" You did, in fact, used to be much more shy with him. It took a few dates to be able to look him in the eyes. It's that contrast between you that is so intoxicating. How you get all dressed up in girly outfits and ramble at him, and he has the answers for it all.

He nudges you around and aisle into the next. The cart is slowly filling up. When he had said you'd be leaving with more than you came, he'd meant it. "I do," he rasps. "I've never taken another girl somewhere who loved shopping more. You're a blushing, pretty hole in my wallet."

A throaty imitation of a laugh if all you can muster in response to that. It's not like you didn't know he had other sugar babies before yourself. Had probably taken them to Hawaii, too. The thought spirals out of control before you can stamp it out. Brushing the buttery petals of the flower at your ear, you consider if he's done exactly this, all of it, with another girl, too. He has the means to. And then you get to thinking what he could've done with those girls. Did he tell them how pretty they sounded like he loved so much to tell you? "You're mean," you say, empty banter. "I'm go back in the bowl and find a sugar daddy that doesn't bully me."

The harsh overhead lights cut his features and catch the way his jaw ticks. "Is that it?" His eyes flicker down the the basket you're filling. You don't know if it's pointed or him doing the math. "They couldn't afford you."

The next step you take is a bit more wobbly, a knot pulling tight deep in your belly and making your coordination all loose. He watches watches you flounder. Realistically, you are very aware you are outmatched. It doesn't stop you doubling down. Your low heels click against the tile floors as you shuffle toward a perfume display. Heavy glass with powdery vanillas and sharp, full black pepper and night blooming jasmine, you are a self-fulfilling prophecy and gravitate toward only the luxe stuff. Maybe that's what ruffles you. That he's right. You take a greenish bottle and spritz it into the sensitive insides of your wrists.

"How about this one?" you say, prim, and offer it up to him. "Is it pretty…?"

Taking the offer up, his nose feathers against the skin. You suppress the thrill it gives you. A moment, a beat in the air exists in intimate tranquility, before you what you're about to say. He looks up at you through his brows as the scent profile hits him. Creamy banana leaf and flirty, fruity coconut that embodied everything that you were right now. His eyes drop to your mouth only long enough for you to see that he does it. "Buy it." He surrenders to one more drag of how it melts into the heat of your skin before straightening back up. You only ever remember that you have to look up at him when he does that. "I want you to wear that when we meet."

You've always known Yeonjun was more attuned to scents than other men. It was often the first thing he'd bring up when he entered a space, but it was also something he'd whisper into your ears, voice scraping, while he was behind you. So you know what you're doing when you pout your mouth and say, "Do you think the new sugar daddy will like it, too? Should I wear it for him?"

Whatever you thought he'd do, he doesn't. A scoff, or maybe a brisk, annoyed dismissal, you'd expected. Or maybe even he'd say something. But Yeonjun just pauses. Goes blank, with no playful retort to volley back. All you know is that his dark eyes, which had been so content on an indulgent walk down downtown and a nice dinner after, go severe. Darker with no trick of the light.

He only says, "Right."

That leaves you with nothing to say. You cap the tester bottle and take a real box of the perfume. Because now, you might really need that in your favor if the way he had been drinking it down was anything to go off of. Maybe it'll soften him. Your little makeup and perfume detour ends with a whimper, not a bang, as you stand beside him in line and then watch him pull out that wallet despite it. Two bags sit on the counter waiting for you to reclaim them. Full bags. But when he thumbs his credit card and runs it, a sleek, black, metal thing with weight that speaks for itself, it goes through with a ding. You toy with the frills of your little dress to expel the mortification somewhere, or even anywhere, that isn't a rambunctious ball in your chest. You open your mouth to smooth things over a few times, but decide against it. You can't claim to have not know that it would bother him, but it's too late for that.

A weird thrill shoots down your spine at the view. His shoulders rigid and sharp from the back, holding all the things in his head right now that you can only guess at.

The final act takes place in a shop, with him leaned up against a wall that separates the changing rooms from the rest of the place into its own little dim hallway. Obnoxious lights oppress the clothing racks and shoppers from a high, warehouse-like ceiling. A pop station closes in from a speaker in the corner of your dressing room. The clothes you'd rummaged through racks for hang on a gold hook on the wall, waiting for you to stop holding your breath. Even when you finally make yourself move to drop your clothes on the glossy floor below, you're elsewhere. The way his faced dropped? Not just that, but the fact that it wasn't even anger. You don't know what it was; maybe something new that the two of you had created yourselves, or something unique to the reality of what you were to each other.

Yeonjun's knock against the door pauses you. You can almost see it, how he'd rap the backside of his knuckles, head down. His mannerisms are so vivid and branded into your psyche that you could step out right now and you're certain that it's exactly how you'd find him. "Need help?"

The center of your shoulder blades burn because you'd been contorting yourself for the past few minutes to reach the strings behind you. You take your lip into your teeth and take a look of yourself in the mirror. You look expensive. You look like all the things that Choi Yeonjun touches: taken care of. "Uhhh." A part of you wants to deny him. To play the cards that you hold in this long game. He never fails to remind you how much power you hold over him and this arrangement. Why not test the boundaries? But you know what would be sweeter than that. Wordlessly, you pull the latch with a loudness that all dressing room locks seem to have.

Then there he is. His arms are crossed, the muscles there loose but still something that you have to take your mind off, or else you might start to think how they would feel under your teeth. You rove over the slanted height of him and how he still looks tall, even when he leans his head and shoulder into the frame. His eyes rove over you, too. Not a flicker. Not a quick assessment. No. God, no. Not with him.

The latch snaps shut behind him with a barely-there gesture. Your whole stomach drops to the floor and shatters.

It's a little showy. You'll give him that. And maybe you'll also admit that you grabbed this exact dress for this exact reason. A corner of your lip wants to twitch with satisfaction, but you have a plan to see through, and it starts and ends with him groveling for you. What a sight that would be. Even just imagining it and turning the imagery of it in your head, when he's the reason you can even live this life that you do, makes you a rapt little tease. Boys your age can't do this. They couldn't be him if they tried. You're beginning to think that he was a different species of man completely.

A beat passes, and then he runs the pads of his fingertips along the hem of your dress. It ends so, so dangerously; right about where your ass folds over at the sanguine softness of your thighs. The skittering brush of contact is straight electricity, and it's the littlest touch. His eyes meet yours through the mirror. Dark. Smoldering like pure wood smoke, erupting slow like the mountains on these islands that move slow enough to watch their molten greed come, but know that you can do nothing to stop it. It's no fair how he looks at you. Your knees go just completely useless.

Yeonjun completely disregards even pretending he was going to lace that skimpy back up for you. You swallow cotton. "Is it cute?" you ask, because you have a pretty good idea of what the answer is already.

The breathy gasp when he takes the soft fat of your hips into his hands with a greed that says he'd been thinking about them since you walked into this store and while he waited patiently on the other side of the door for this. Or before even that. He tugs your bottom to the front of his jeans and says, with his voice smooth like the scotch he sips, "Of course it's beautiful, baby. Do you want it?"

"Yes," you choke out around a thick knot of anticipation. Your own face meets you, palms braced on either side of the ornate gold mirror and your reflection giving you a show of how ditzy and pathetic he makes you. "But I don't know if I should." The syllables waver toward the end and belie your coquettish act.

He laughs like a scoff while he pushes the skirt of the dress up the swell of your hips, then past it until he can devour the bend of your arch. He taught you that form. And it looks like he has no notes on your technique, either. The pressure of him testing it makes your head go dumb. "When have I ever told you no?" he rasps. "You have no idea how expensive you are, baby. No idea. Your little shopping trip would've maxed out any other man's card."

There. That's the spot. You pout your mouth at him and catch him eating it up in his reflection. "I'm expensive? Am I too expensive for you, then?"

Of course not. Look at you. Look at where you are. His card is yours and you think that it's near bottomless at this point. You don't even have to ask. Yeonjun's tongue presses against the inside of his cheek.

Your panties hit the floor in one tug. The walls of the changing room become infinitely smaller as he wraps your hair up in his fist. The ache in your scalp brings a prickle to your eyes. "Is that what you think?" he says, that polished quality wipes completely raw. He tries to sound like he's not losing his mind, but it's there if you look past the lilt. "Do I need to buy you the island? The world?" It sounds like he would. Like he will. Instead of reaching for himself, he tests between your thighs for what he knows he'll find there, because of course you're soaked. You've been soaked since Sephora.

"Uh-huh," you say, because he's flicking your clit in little tests and every time he hits the sensitive underside of it, the nerves there send your heels clattering on the marble and your legs trying to find purchase. And because, what's dignity with a man sixteen years older than you who puts money in your bank account and fucks you in high-end boutique dressing rooms?

He likes that. But he doesn't give you anything real, doesn't reward the behavior you've been prancing around him with. His palm wraps around your waist to press into your belly and steady your scrambling legs like it goes without saying. The way his fingers stretch over the soft, doughy place there, how it eats up the expanse of your waist, makes you swallow hard. "God help the next kid that gets you. What's he gonna do with you? How are you gonna manage pizzeria dates and a one-bedroom apartment when you know what you have? What I've given you?"

You can't answer. His fingers curl into you, and he wastes no time finding the spot that he knows like muscle memory. The delicate anatomy of a woman's sweet spot seems like something that just came with the package of him. He doesn't have to search, and he probably never did. Sparks explode behind your eyelids like the fireworks they had been setting off on the beach in brilliant golds and teals. If he hadn't steadied you with the strength of his palm, you'd probably be crumpling down to the floor right about now.

"Hmm?" You can hear the condescending purr on his mouth, because you don't have the strength to pry your eyes open to see it.

You mewl a sorry imitation for the word, "Yes," and go back to trying to wiggle your ass into the incessant curling of his fingers. The sounds of him fingering you makes your ears and chest flush, each inappropriate, sloppy wet noise proving how easy you are for him. "Right—right there, please." Your head drops as the first word breaks in the air. It's really a sorry excuse for words.

He listens so well. The angle of his two middle fingers, the width of them just enough to make you crazy and the finesse of how he uses them like weapons even worse so, twitches just up. It's as though he feels it himself somewhere inside of you that he's found it, because he finds it and you know you're royally fucked from that moment on. "Good," he says. "That way I know I get to keep you. Because you'll go and you'll try other men,"—his forearm strains with how he forgets the soreness in it to fuck you on his fingers right—"and you'll be right back here. In my bed. On my money. My spoiled little mess."

The thought that maybe, beyond the pleasure he gets out of knowing he could give you anything, buy you anything, dressing you up in him, he likes you this way because it means nothing else would ever fill the spot he carved doesn't occur to you. Currently because your thighs spasm and shake and it takes every working synapse in your brain firing off to digest how he fucks you so good that it's a leash in and of itself. Hopefully you'll be here when he starts going salt and pepper, because what would sex be if not this?

Your choked, scraped whimpers get too loud for him. His palm over your mouth finally has your eyes fluttering open, and the sight that greets you back is potent enough to send the same molasses through your veins as the heel of his palm grinding down on your swollen clit. "Shh, baby." He grinds harder, because he's mean. "So goddamn whiny. What a princess you are; can't take what you were begging for all night. Why act up if you're gonna tell the whole store how I'm being mean to you?"

He gets your answer in a gone, strangled sob against his palm. Your own damp breaths where it seals over your mouth makes the air thinner. Each roll of his palm forward is met with a helpless push of your ass back on him. His wrist is practically pinned between the bulge in his jeans, because of course he's affected even if he'd like to pretend otherwise, and your bottom. It doesn't stop him one bit. The private sounds that his silencing makes is better than any reckless moaning. It's almost dirtier, almost wronger.

"Gonna cum?" he rasps, watching the trashy mess your face makes in the mirror like a god exacting justice. The weeping mascara lines pooling where his hand meets your face and the drooping eyes that want to roll back into your skull, the high pink of your cheeks and how he can watch himself give you this like he give you everything fucking else. You were close, but just the question winds you up tight enough to snap. That face of his goes patronizing with a furrow of his brows. Slick rolls in hot rivulets down the insides of your trembling thighs. "That's right. There we go. You need to grind that pussy on my hand? Grind it. Go ahead and see if I'm gonna give you what you're asking for."

You try to say something. You really do. To tell him that you'll do anything for it, that he's melting your brain like butter, or god, just anything. The backs of your eyes and your throat and the pit of your stomach all prickle and go tight at once. He probably hears something unflattering come out from behind his palm, something strangled and a fie on the decorum that a place like this deserves. That mirror that you'd been depending on to keep you at least somewhat planted where he's had you bent in half goes clattering against the wall behind it because you're grasping at it like it can help you.

He stops. Just completely, unfairly, cruelly stops. His fingers come out of you a mess and you have to pretend they weren't just in you as he straightens up, swipes a thumb through your blackened cheeks, and then he doesn't touch you again. You're left gaping at yourself in the mirror and wondering with a naked dissonance, like when something heavy hits metal and leaves it ringing, what the hell you're supposed to do with the knot in your lower belly now. You almost think to just rub one out after he steps out.

Tugging his collar looser around his throat, he works his jaw and lets you change back. It all feels too tight; the frills and the way you clatter uselessly out when you've finished and the neglected pangs of throbbing, so hard that you can feel the pounding of your heartbeat all the way up in your ears. You avoid eye contact when he pays for the dress up at the register. If the flushed face and the smearing of mascara that would give you away no matter how hard you tried to wipe at your cheeks and jaw didn't give you away, maybe the buzzing in your eyes would. He makes small talk with her and takes the bag and receipt as if he wasn't just knuckle deep in you. It's the antithesis of all things fair. You have to breathe with intention as he leads the way back out onto the streets. The air is thick and salty enough to swim through. It's no help up against clammy, salty skin itself. The only thing that keeps you kinda grounded as you stumble by his shoulder, because even now he's steepled your fingers together, is the sweet scent of the palm leaves touching the sky above you. Otherwise you're swimming through the honking and the weaving between bodies and the pulse of what he did to you.

You want to dig your heels in and demand he wraps his fingers around your throat and fix it. Or make a scene so big he has to. But you just blink dumbly the whole way back to the room, because you are nowhere near as gutsy as that, and half as coherent at the moment.

The door clicks closed behind you again in a pantomime of that stuffy, unreal scene you just left behind. You kick your heels off and wait. Wait to see what he does, to see if he'll pounce on you the way you ran over a generous hundred times on the way here. Yeonjun just steps out of his own shoes, drops the new dress off on a seat, and works his watch off by the night stand. The lamp there, a low warm ambience, lights the angles of him. The way his shirt stretches over his shoulders, and how he tapers out to something thin at the waist that lingers in your mind after you fuck—how the stretch below his navel and the dusting of hair there gives way to the V, and how that gives way to his cock. When you first had seen it, he didn't even laugh, though he could've. You'd just stared like you were torn between running away from it and testing if it was as hard and warm as it looked. No; he held your face as he told you that it was okay, that he wanted you to become so familiar with it that you could feel the exact shape and curve of it in your haziest dreams. You press your thighs together as you struggle with the strap of your heel.

A metallic sound works, and then he sets the silver-faced watch down. Then his eyes finally, for the first time since he stepped into that dressing room, meet yours. Not through any mirrors. The weight of that is entirely different.

"Bend over the bed," he says. "C'mon, baby girl. I've been going insane over this all day."

The hinges of your jaw ache. "Why?" You're stumbling over to do just that, because you're more talk than you are brazen. "So you can just stop again? I have fingers, you know. I don't need you."

And then his belt makes a noise that tells you he intends to see it through this time. Your stomach does three full flips, ass in the air like the obedient lap dog that you'd be for him a hundred times over. Because if he groomed you and petted you and you were his one, favorite girl for it? What else could you possibly need?

"Huh." The belt comes loose in a rasp, somewhere behind you now. He'd circled the bed completely. "I could. We could sit here and do that all night, if we wanted. But where would be the fun in that?" he says, and then he bends over your back and speaks into the shell of your ear, "I have about a thousand other, more creative things I'm gonna do to you, sweetheart. And trust me; I've had a lot of time to think them."

The shudder he tears from you is so visceral, it's like he'd wrapped a hand around your throat. You choke your swallow down dry and say, "Please do it, do whatever you want. I can take it."

He presses a wet, biting kiss into that spot where your pulse meets jawline. And then another that lingers against the back of your shoulder, and then he kisses his way down and straightens back up to make a mess of your outfit all over again. "I know you can," he rasps, his own voice scraped down to something needy that reflects exactly what's burning between your legs right now. You can't tell if it should feel like a good thing, but it just raises a chill on your skin. Because if the same blistering things that's inside you is inside of him right now, then you don't know what you've signed yourself up for.

"You're still on the pill?" he says, and then when you hesitate to answer he takes a handful of ass. "Sweetheart. Please."

You nod. He takes that and forgets the condom in his wallet to let a line of spit fall down over your cunt from the back. As if you weren't wet enough. You don't know if you've ever been so slick in your life, so wiggly that you whine at him to, "Hurrrrry." The glob lands at the top of yout slit and follows gravity to your clit, and he goes quiet to watch it find its place on you. He takes his proud length and strokes it once or twice to feel it twitch, to give himself a pathetic teaser for what was to come.

Then he's pounding into you until stars shoot behind your eyelids, until you're making noises that would embarrass you if they were ever caught on tape. The come from your throat, and they practically stay there, bouncing with each collision of his groin against your ass and the backs of your thighs. You eat straight comforter as he braces one arm beside your hips to cant his hips up, right into the place he had fun with teasing earlier. It's probably pretty obvious to the poor neighbors what the grinding of the headboard against the wall might be, but you're too busy getting your brains fucked away to be a considerate neighbor.

"Mfh!" you tell the bedsheets. The laugh that he pants into your shoulder blades is pure, undiluted dirtiness and heat.

"So mouthy," he croons, though he's no better off than you. Each time you flutter tight around him, his fingers dig deeper divots into your hip. "And so pretty when you're split on my cock and can't talk. Isn't that right, baby?" He bends completely over your back, and you're forced to remember through the scattered thoughts of how he looked behind you in that mirror. His body ate yours up. It didn't matter if you were taller, if you were any other way. He'd make you look tiny anyway, just like how his fingers stretch over the small of your back and how he handles you with it. "Tell me what you need. I wanna hear that mouth go."

Breathing is a thing of the past. You shove your face to one side so at least you aren't suffocating in the sheets, face such a mess that you can feel it more than the twist of your brows and the pout on your mouth. Sweat beads at your temples and hair sticks there over your flaming cheeks. "Choke me, choke me," you say. It's the dumbified words of somebody who has about five words in their current arsenal and was using all their brain power for each. You choke and sob and bite whines into the air and meet every single one of his thrusts.

He's not gonna let you ask twice. The precision of his fingers is food for your brain, thinning your windpipe just enough to twist every nudge of his tip to your cervix into something more potent and overwhelming. Your nails bite into his wrist at your neck, skull digging back into his shoulder and hips being ground into the edge of the mattress every time he strokes with mindless, carnal rhythm. "Choke you?" he almost laughs, like his hand wasn't around your throat right now. "You're full of surprises, you know that? How's that for that sweet brain, baby girl? Huh?"

Your face twists up. "Uh—uh-huh!" You can't breathe, can't think, in the best way. Lips wobbling, you pant, "I like it!"

That has his hips coming down on you in a different way. He falls over your back and drags in the scent at your neck like he's huffing something stronger than the sweet scent of sex on your skin. But it does something electric to him. His abs tighten against your spine, grinding his cock into you like he could be any deeper than this. It feels like he's up in your stomach, you brain, dressing that up just like he does to the rest of you. "Fuck." His voice crumbles into tatters. "You smell so fucking good. Like candy." He kisses at the spot that you, even in this state, recall with a jerk to be where you had sprayed that perfume. It had melted into the warm pulse there, faded down into the base notes. The kiss isn't enough. He presses his tall nose right into it and grabs at you so hard that it aches. "I'm not gonna last long, baby. God, you're getting more of this stuff. I'll buy you more before we—" His wet forehead falls into the soft spot between your shoulders and where your nape begins, every rolling thrust like he's staving off an orgasm coming just from the olfactory sweetness of you.

You've long since raked red-hot lines down his taut forearm, but a particular tightening of his fingers at your throat and a wet slide that hits just the right spot without you having to ask sends you over like a house of cards. The arch in the very angle of your back bows back against him. The suite falls away, all of Hawaii and your agreement follows, until you're just a girl under a man who knows exactly how to play you. "I'm cumming!" you say, all but stumbling over the warning. "Help!"

You don't know what the hell you're saying, and he's off the deep end too. He throws you up the bed and digs his knees in to gain purchase and something in that scent he caught, in the thoughts that had been festering in his head all night, comes alive. He rails you right into the sheets and takes what he needs as you claw at the pillows and sheets through yours. Because with him, you're gonna cum first if he has to grit his teeth and pull out just to make sure he doesn't first.

"That's it," he growls. "That's my spoiled girl." Then his own hips stop and each stutter of them as he fucks it into you, each pant and breath into your shoulders and kiss to the back of your head, tells you that he's followed you down. As his weight smothers you into the pillows, grounding you and suffocating you until you can come down and breathe again, he makes your hair into a loose ponytail to reach the soft parts of your neck that the tangle of it hid.

His heartbeat at your back reverberates into your chest. Speaking into your face as he takes the softness of your cheeks and watches them squish under his fingers, he says, "How's that for leaving you wanting?" There's a lazy, pleased light in his eyes. What else could a man need, more than a pretty girl glowing with post-orgasmic bliss under him, in a bed he put her in, in a frilly, rumpled dress that only he could afford? Nothing. He was living the life that other men loathed him for. He nips the turn of your shoulder and says, "You were put on this Earth to test old bastards like me, huh?"

You can hardly give him an enthusiastic smile. Probably.

ash⦂ #needthat like i finished this in a haze at 4am before a shift so if that tells you anything about how i was feeling…

Call it a development into something not too far from puppy love as both your mothers would not-so-secretly tease behind your backs.

Now that you're both touching your mid-twenties, those same feelings are still there—some days more intense than others.

Like when Beomgyu decided to take you out for dinner, with no romantic intention from what you assume, and just becomes this gentleman version that you yearn to witness over and over again. Listening intently when you talk about your day and the drama at work, or when he becomes so chivalrous—opening doors and pulling your chair back before you sit down.

Beomgyu is no longer that goofy little boy pulling unserious, silly faces whenever a camera was pointed at him. Perhaps sometimes that still happens, that trait had never really left him, but he's also grown into a man.

A man who adores you when your head is down and your cheek is squished up against your arm when you've been working late at your desk, and he's at your place to make sure you finish your work before the deadline.

A man who no longer teases you for your comebacks, but more so to recognise the way your face freezes because you hope he doesn't know your cheeks are burning up—oh he definitely knows.

A man who has managed to accumulate his own little reasonings of why you're the first person he thinks about in the morning and the last person lingering in his mind at night.

You know him better than anyone else and vice versa, and you wouldn't have it any other way. To you it's always been you and Beomgyu against the world.

This is where you find yourself leaning your hip against the island countertop, your arms were crossed while you observed the gentle interaction between Beomgyu helping your mother in the kitchen. Another thing you've noticed is just how loved Beomgyu is by your mother, but that also applies to his mother with you.

He scoops a teaspoon into the sauce and calls you over to taste it. "I need to know what you think." He smiles at you as you approach him, that stupid loveable smile that constantly has your heart fluttering in your chest. He tucks a stray hair behind your ear while you lean a little closer to him, wrapping your lips around the spoon, and his gentle eyes scan your face awaiting your reaction.

Instead of focusing on the flavour, you swore Beomgyu could probably hear your heart pounding from the way your chest gradually started heaving, faces only a couple of centimetres away from each other.

He thinks your reaction is adorable. Catching the way your mini coughing fit had you taking a couple steps back away from him. But of course you tried to play it off as if you were choking on the taste of the sauce.

"So? What do you think?" A subtle smirk quirks his lips. He knows what he's doing. Because he always does this. Making moves to make you flustered because that's one of his favourite ways of teasing you. But you're so painfully oblivious that he keeps going, knowing that you won't catch on anytime soon.

Your brows scrunch, still assessing the flavour of whatever's left on your palette. "Did you help with the sauce?"

"Why?" He tilts his head and cocking a brow. "Is it bad?"

"How could it be bad when it was my mom that seasoned the sauce?" You laughed at his reaction, probably expecting you to say something otherwise, but you know your mom's recipes too well to mistaken it. "Plus, I don't think it would taste that good if you actually made it. Just saying, all love, Gyu."

"How can it be all love when you essentially disrespected my cooking skills?!" He called after you as you walk towards the dining room, ready to help his mom and brother set the table.

One of the things you found endearing about Beomgyu was how easily he retaliates when you mess around with him. It's constant bickering whenever you two are left together, but it's also a mix of other unsolicited emotions.

"My dear," Beomgyu's mom calls after you. "I'm so glad you and Cookey are still close till this day. Although he hasn't been really good with dating around in his early twenties," you let out a quiet chortle at her sudden slander towards beomgyu's dating life, like you don't already know.

"Don't tell him I told you this," she whispers, "but I always imagined the both of you would end up together."

Again, your cheeks burn up from her statement. You were unsure whether his mom and your mom have figured out your crush for him or assumed that Beomgyu's gentle gestures towards you are only platonic. You've just grown that comfortable with each other.

"Oh," you force out a polite chuckle. "I'm sure Beomgyu will find his special person one day, perhaps he just hasn't found them yet."

Beomgyu's mother responds with a quiet hum, thinking of what more to say to convince you, but you were too in denial and too much of an over thinker to let those thoughts fill your head.

"You haven't grown much, have you?" A deeper but similar voice to Beomgyu's surprises you from behind, lifting your head up to meet with an older carbon copy of your best friend indeed.

"No way! Since when did you get back?!" You run up to Beomgyu's older brother, Beomseok, to tackle him into a hug. "I can't believe you actually made it, I genuinely thought I wasn't going to see you until after Beomgyu's birthday."

"You think I'd miss my favourite person's birthday? I was sorta expecting at least an engagement announcement or something at your big age." He cackles at your bewilderment, but you laugh along with him. It's been too long without seeing him to take things too seriously.

Beomgyu from afar, however, could only see the way you and his brother are both holding each other's arms, laughing and attentively engaging in a conversation that is apparently so interesting. And funny.

He's silently seething. Plating the dishes on the island countertop, and he just had to be facing in your direction where you should literally be holding his arms, not his brother's.

"You know, Beomgyu's still single." Beomseok suggests.

"And?"

"And? And I always hoped the two of you would be dating by now, plus I've always wanted you to be the younger sister I never had."

Like mother, like son.

You bite the inside of your cheeks, refraining a grin to even appear on your face. Whether they know or not, you still wouldn't dare give in and prove them right.

Not without confessing to Beomgyu first.

"Ah, you know I'll always see you as my older brother regardless." You reassure him with a sheepish smile. "Besides, you'll still have to accept Beomgyu's partner whoever it may be."

He hums, a little defeated at your answer, but he pats your head before bringing in the rest of the extra seats into the dining room.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚

A couple of hours pass and the remaining guests arrive for the late dinner. Close family and friends were finally seated around the table, conversations coming from all sides but from Beomgyu. He's been silent. And it didn't help that he was sat beside you.

You rarely had this many visitors over, especially for your birthday, but your parents thought to throw a 'joint' celebration for you and Beomgyu. At midnight they plan to sing him 'happy birthday' so you knew this was going to be a long evening, but you don't mind one bit.

"Gyu?" You softly nudge his elbow, eyes fixed on his face to see if he'd respond to you since he still doesn't seem to be engaged in any of the conversations around him.

He doesn't look at you though, focusing on eating his food and pretending to listen in to the conversation on his other side where Yeonjun and Taehyun are talking about their personal records at the gym. That isn't even something Beomgyu would pay attention to.

"Did I do something?" You ask again. But he puts on a forced laugh when the rest of his friends laugh at something in passing in their conversation.

You jut out your bottom lip slightly, moving your chair a little away from him and towards Beomseok and your friends as an attempt to take your mind off of your best friend paying no attention to you. Yet whatever they talked about went into one ear and out the other.

A call of your name snaps you out of the numbing trance when your dad asks you to grab some refills of the emptied dishes in the kitchen. And you couldn't be happier to just leave the room, even for a brief moment.

There was no hesitation in sight when you pushed your chair back and grabbed the empty serving dishes, heading straight to the kitchen and placing them on the countertop, planting your hands flat on the surface beside them. So much for a birthday. You hung your head low, composing your breathing but the ragged pattern seemed difficult to manage.

Beomgyu, on the other hand, felt a sudden wave of guilt for ignoring you. Sure he didn't know what was going on with you and his brother, but it's still out of pocket of him for ignoring you as if you did that on purpose. Knowing you, it was most likely a misinterpretation on his part. Whatever the situation may be, he needs to talk to you. You're his best friend after all, and he cares about you too much to see you upset on a day that should be celebrating you.

A few footsteps thud from around the corner, and you whip your body straight, roughly wiping a stray tear daring to run down your cheek.

"I won't be a minute—"

"Hey."

You gulp, turning around to face mr silent treatment.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me." You say bluntly, refilling the dishes before picking them up but Beomgyu's hands rests on your wrists, motioning you to leave the dishes for a moment.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been like that to you. God, it's so stupid." He huffs.

"It's so unlike you, just tell me what happened, Gyu." He melted at the sudden nickname, grateful that you're not petty enough to push him away.

You were the one a tinge bit hurt, but you were also the one willing to sort this out. It wasn't a common thing for you guys to fall out seriously this way, but it was a regular thing to talk things out to avoid misunderstandings.

Beomgyu sighs again, combing his fingers through his hair until dishevelled.

"It's so dumb." He starts. "I saw the way you and Beomseok were talking earlier and I don't know, but is there something going on with you two?"

Your brows furrowed softly, trying to remember what exactly was talking about. But it was the brief catch up that Beomgyu had seen from earlier. Little did he know how the conversation actually went.

"It's– it's fine if you're seeing my brother or something but—"

"It sounds like someone's jealous." You tease him but he just pouts, not interested in joking around with this matter.

"Of course I am! Because I like you. God, I actually might be in love with you at this point." His chest heaves from the sudden outburst and you do nor say anything other than look up at him with wide eyes.

"I didn't think-" You reply honestly. Still processing that your best friend, your childhood crush has just confessed before you did.

"Either you don't feel the same way or you're just that oblivious to realise that I have feelings for you. I always have, ___."

Again, you're in awe and speechless but there's only one thing you think of doing. And talking isn't one of them.

"If I have this all wrong-"

"Beomgyu, just kiss me."

You step closer to him, cradling his cheeks in the palm of your hands, pulling his face closer to yours and towering over you. Finally crashing your lips onto his. He needed this. You needed this. The laughter and chatter just around the corner in the dining room had been drowned out long before Beomgyu even confessed to you.

Despite the crashing of lips and teeth, you both eventually softened the kiss, one of his hands cupping the back of your neck and the other finding its place on your waist with a firm grip. His lips felt like heaven on yours, who would've thought as someone who hadn't dated anyone for years, he'd be an amazing kisser. This was the feeling you wanted to engrave in your brain—to feel in every waking moment.

Luckily there was an empty space beside the dishes as Beomgyu lifted you onto the countertop, slotting himself to stand between your legs and throwing your arms over his broad shoulders.

"mmph, Gyu." You whine quietly into his ear while his lips trails their way down your jaw and neck with gentle smooches. And that's only an incentive for him to litter your with more kisses, because in his mind you're worthy of every single one.

"I love you. I love you so much." He mumbles against your skin, hands still roaming all over while your hands makes their way to his hair.

"Beomgyu, I've always loved you. I just kept doubting myself and overthinking, but I see it now." You finally confess to him, more stabilised than you thought, and with that said, you surprised yourself and your best friend.

He stands up straight again, his eyes keeping contact with yours, and his lips adorned the prettiest smile you've seen; lips pink with a subtle puffiness to them. A million things are running through your head, your pulse has heightened and when everything feels like it's moving a hundred miles an hour—the man standing in front of you is capable of slowing that down.

"You seriously mean that?" He asks, rubbing the your sides so lovingly.

"One hundred percent, Gyu." You reassure him with a smile, and he mirrors you. "And I promise you, what you saw earlier between me and your brother was just us catching up. He even thought we'd be together by now."

You let out a timid chuckle knowing the irony of the situation. It's what your mothers have been plotting all this time, but fate has found its own way eventually and it only took twenty four years.

"No, but I'm sorry for behaving so immaturely. I'll be better, for you I want to be better. I promise you that."

He's too adorable professing his love for you over and over again, but it's time for you to make your move and upgrade your so-called friendship. With your hearts beating in sync, now's the perfect time.

"Have I ever told you how cute you'd be as my boyfriend?" You tilt your head to the side, and Beomgyu's melting from the sight of it.

"Now you have, so can I officially be your boyfriend, please?" He asks so nicely, almost borderline begging to be your lover. And who are you to say no to him?

You nod your head slowly with your eyes smiling up at him, and you see the cutest smile known to man. For years you've been yearning for this day, wondering who'd confess first and who'd be the one to ask the other if ever that came about. But you don't have to wonder anymore, no more waiting around and assuming because your best friend that you grew up with is finally yours. And you're his.

"You're mine now." He says, leaning in to press a long but loving kiss against your lips. He can feel you smiling and it's contagious. "You're mine forever." His hands squeezes your hips tighter and it's ignited something in the both of you, chests heaving, and airy gasps in between longer kisses.

"As much as I'd love to take this further, we have to go back. They're probably wondering where the food's gone." You lay several pecks on his neck and you feel him physically shiver from your touch.

"Mmkay," his sighs are trembling, "let's go. We do have tomorrow to ourselves anyway." And he always knows how to make you blush.

He helps you down from the countertop, laying a kiss onto your forehead before helping you with heating up the food and going back to the dining room. Everyone all in high spirits, and both your parents notice a sudden glow and change of demeanour from the both of you, and that's when you tell them that you're now official. All you could hear are cheers and 'aww's' from everyone around the table. You couldn't be any happier seeing your mother and Beomgyu's mother hugging each other out of pure joy.

For someone who's witnessed so much love in their lives and has so much more love to give, you're just immensely blessed to finally be loved by the one you've loved your whole life.

Here's to twenty four years of you and Beomgyu.

notes: sorry the ending was abrupt but I'm just trying to get back into writing again!! feedback would be much appreciated <3 thank you for reading!

tag list: refreshing my tag lists again because I know a few blogs have deactivated and left so I'm just starting again! send an ask if you'd like to be tagged in my fics, here is my tag list system and pls specify what genres you'd like to be tagged in!

You grabbed a plastic cup, drizzled it with syrup before filling it with ice. Then you carefully poured in the coffee, followed by milk, and lastly, the whipped cream—which was nowhere to be found inside of the fridge. 

“Soobin! We’re all out of whipped cream. Why did you let a customer order a frappe and then forget about the whipped cream?!” 

“What?! Didn't you do inventory earlier?” He asked, pausing from counting.

“Is the sky blue? Of course, I did! But sometime during your shift, you used up all the whipped cream and didn't tell me! Or even bothered to make some!” You were stressing out and it took every ounce of restraint in your body not to hit him upside the head.

“Calm down, tiger. Let me take care of that.” Beomgyu finally emerged from the kitchen in his apron and wrapped an arm around you as he gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I'll talk to the customer while you go grab the heavy whipping cream from the stocks. Breathe, okay? I don't want you to get an aneurysm over whipped cream.”

You inhaled sharply and sighed before walking off into the kitchen. Beomgyu turned to Soobin, who lowered his head, feeling guilty over the mishap.

“Sorry about that.” He said.

“Don't take it personally. Y/N just really cares a lot about working here. That's why they get worked up when something goes wrong.” Beomgyu reassured him.

“I know, but…” Soobin trailed off, glancing at the kitchen door before continuing his sentence. “Don’t you think Y/N has been super stressed lately? They're always so tense while working.”

Indeed, Beomgyu noticed this. He started working at the café a year after you began. He was the third trainee you had supervised and the second longest-serving employee after you. Due to this, the both of you were extremely close and even considered each other best friends. He quickly caught on to your quirks which made it easy for him to read your mood. So every little detail and any slight change would never go unnoticed by Beomgyu.

However, he knew this wasn't just any change of mood. You finally graduated from college four months ago but you were still working at the café. Despite sending out numerous job applications you could no longer count, not a single one had called back to say you were hired. To say you were anxious or troubled would be an understatement.

Beomgyu was well-aware that underneath the tough exterior, you were threatening to fall apart any moment. Another minor inconvenience too heavy to bear and it would tip off the entire tower. It was only a matter of time, like a fuse burning low. He had to make sure he was there to keep you from shattering under the weight of it all.

“I know, but don't worry about it. I'll talk to Y/N.” He said, patting Soobin on the back. “Just focus on that. You wouldn't wanna make a mistake with the money. The boss is the last person you'd want to get on the wrong side of. Also, could you point out who ordered the frappe?”

Soobin directed the other boy's gaze to a woman sitting in the corner of the café. Beomgyu approached her to apologize for the delay in her order and ensured that you were all working on it as promptly as you could. She didn’t seem to mind, smiling graciously before he left. As he returned to the counter, you walked out of the kitchen with a carton of heavy whipping cream in one hand.

“Great, you found it.” He said.

“Yeah but it’s staying in the freezer for a few minutes. I’m gonna have to put the hazelnut frappe in there too.” You said, turning around to reach over for the cup but Beomgyu was already handing it to you. As you took it, your hands brushed and what felt like a jolt of electricity shot up your arm, hot and sudden, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, swiftly turning your face away from him before he could catch the shift in your expression.

“Well, I’m clocking out now. Everything is balanced and double-checked.” Soobin shut the cash register with a click and took off his apron. “Sorry again about the whipped cream, Y/N.”

“It’s all good, just don’t forget next time.” You said before he headed off into the kitchen to grab his stuff from the lockers.

You shut the refrigerator door and dusted your hands off. Beomgyu was leaning against the counter, resting his weight on his elbows, silently watching you with an unreadable look. It made you uncomfortable, not in a creepy way, but more like nervousness that you were unable to tell what he was thinking.

It wasn’t the first time—and lately, it had been happening more often. Like he wanted to say something but couldn’t despite the pressure bubbling, building up inside of him. Although the silence between you was thick, whatever was holding him back was growing thinner by the day. It was only a question of when it would burst.

Soon, Soobin walked out of the door and all the tension in the air dissipated. He waved goodbye as he left and now, it was just you and Beomgyu in charge of the café. You went to clean the coffee machine while he took charge of bussing the tables before disappearing into the kitchen for a few minutes to wash the dishes.

In the meantime, a couple of customers came in and you took their orders. Beomgyu assisted you in preparing and serving them as soon as he came back, then eventually moved on to making the whipped cream.

This is what you liked about working with Beomgyu. The two of you were just so in sync with each other that it made working at the café seem like a piece of cake. Maybe it was the years of experience or the number of shifts you worked together, but either way, nothing could go wrong with Beomgyu around. He was your right hand.

“Excuse me!” Called a voice from the pickup side of the counter—it was the customer who ordered the frappe from about fifteen minutes ago.

“I’ll be with you in a sec!” Beomgyu said, finally topping the drink with a swirl of whipped cream and some more syrup. Then he sealed the cup with a dome lid, slipped it and a straw into a takeaway holder before handing it to her. “Thank you for waiting, we’ll make sure it won’t take this long next time.”

“You know, if the wait always ends with you handing me my drink, I wouldn’t mind waiting again.” She said and your ears sharpened, zeroing in on them like the instincts of a guard dog. She took the drink with a smile that lingered a little too long for your liking.

Beomgyu blinked, caught slightly off guard.

She giggled, then tilted her head. “Wait… have we met before? Oh, I know! Did you take Introductory Biostatistics last semester? Professor Hong’s class?”

“Oh… um… yeah! I-I think so…” Beomgyu blinked again while stumbling over his own words. “You’re um… sorry, I forgot your name.”

“It’s Doah. Beomgyu, right?” She tucked her hair behind her ear, still smiling coyly.

You felt steam coming out of your ears as you gripped way too tightly onto a dishcloth, scrubbing aggressively on an already spotless counter. Her voice was laced with honey, a little too sweet to be casual, but hearing it filled you with venom.

“Lucky guess! You just read that off my nametag, didn’t you?” He chuckled, shifting on his feet as he shot you a look. The kind that screamed ‘HELP ME’ with his eyes.

But you dared not to look in their direction. Not when you wanted to grab the kettle and toss it in her direction.

Doah laughed again. “Yeah, I actually never got your name. But I remembered your face. Pretty impressive how I pay attention to detail, huh?”

“Didn’t pay enough attention in class, clearly.” You muttered under your breath, moving on to cleaning the portafilter, nearly dropping the filter basket. Fortunately, you caught it in your hand. Unfortunately, it was piping hot and you instantly threw it in the sink where it clanged loudly against the metal surface.

“You okay?” Beomgyu asked, turning around to check on you.

“Oh, I’m fine.” You said and waved a hand dismissively.

Doah cleared her throat and leaned closer. “It’s really nice seeing you around again. Mind if we exchanged socials? We could follow each other on Instagram.”

Boy, was she persistent. It was pretty admirable yet so aggravating.

You took a peek from the corner of your eye and saw Beomgyu hesitate for half a second. Then he smiled faintly, the kind that was shown to others as a gesture of politeness rather than interest.

“I guess we could.” He said but before he even got to finish his sentence, Doah was already handing him her phone.

The moment their fingers touched, you bit back your irritation as Beomgyu keyed his Instagram into her phone.

“There. I just sent a follow request,” she said while taking her phone back. Then Doah smirked. “And maybe next time, you can forget about my whipped cream on purpose.”

Beomgyu gave a tight-lipped smile. “Hopefully not. We're actually trying to do better in that department.”

That made her blink, smile faltering and charm wavering for a split second. But she recovered fast. “Well… see you around then.”

And with that she scurried out of the café, bell above the door chiming as she left. Beomgyu stepped away from his spot and stood next to you, letting out a breath he had no idea he had been holding in.

“You certainly handled that well.” You said, fidgeting with the check spindle on the counter.

If you weren't seething with jealousy right now, you'd have told him she was cute and he just blew it. But you'd never say it to his face because that would only mean having to come to terms with your feelings. And it was scary to admit it out loud, even to yourself, that you had fallen for him sometime ago.

“Handled? What's that supposed to mean?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

“Come on, she was ogling you. And she gave you her Instagram! You can’t be this dense.” You rolled your eyes, accidentally tearing off a receipt from the check spindle a little too hard.

He let out a short laugh, not buying your faux casual act. “I knew what she was up to. I was just being polite to the customer.”

“Yeah… real polite.” You forced a lightness into your tone that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“You sound like you didn’t want me to be polite.” He grinned playfully and snatched your hand to keep you from tearing out more receipts. “That’s enough.”

“That’s not what I said!” You scoffed, yanking your hand out of his grasp.

“No, but maybe it’s what you meant.”

“Alright, this conversation is over. Since you’re soooo polite, maybe you should follow her back. I don’t care what you do, Beomgyu.” You walked away to find a new pointless task to do and settled with restacking the coffee cups.

Beomgyu chortled, following you from behind. “Really? Because it seems to me like you do care, though.” 

You turned to him sharply. “I said this conversation was over.”

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” He said, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk on his lips said otherwise.

You huffed, directing your focus on aligning the stack of cups so perfectly it could have passed a military inspection. He lingered for a while, watching you with that same undecipherable look from earlier, then sighed.

“I’m deleting her follow request.” He said and took out his phone from his jeans. “She wasn’t my type, anyway.”

You froze mid-stack, the corner of your mouth twitching before you forced it back down to frown.

“Well, you’re pickier than I expected.” You said snarkily.

His lips curved slightly. “I guess I am.”

He was too close for comfort and you wondered if he could possibly hear your heart thrumming in your chest.

“What are you doing just standing there anyway? Go help out in the kitchen or something. Go away.” You hissed, pushing him out of the way as you marched off to the cash register.

Beomgyu knew he had gotten to you. You were too easy to read, much to his amusement. Although he enjoyed poking holes in the facade you put on, just to catch glimpses of the feelings you kept hidden, he knew all too well that he was wearing one of his own. His was woven from careful smiles and harmless teasing, a shield to keep his real emotions from spilling out. If he let even one thread loose, he feared everything would unravel—and you’d see just how much he felt for you.

Later that night, you closed up shop and got ready to go home. You waited for Beomgyu while he dragged down the metal gate over the café and secured the lock in place. Then he got up and dusted his pants as you handed him back his backpack.

“I can’t wait to sleep. My back is killing me.” You yawned, stretching your arms above your head.

“Me too. Want me to carry your bag for you?” He offered.

“No, you don’t have to. I’m good.” You said, but he was already pulling it off of you and though you resisted initially, he was too stubborn and you caved in. You muttered, “Thanks.”

The two of you walked in silence, exhausted from all the work you accomplished today. It was a pleasant night, the cool air against your skin, and the faint hum of the city enveloped you like white noise. Your footsteps against the pavement echoed into the dark as bats flitted overhead, casting shadows underneath the glow of the streetlights.

You arrived at the nearest bus stop and sat down, Beomgyu taking the seat right next to you. It was ten minutes until the next bus rolled up, the arrival time blaring brightly on the screen. It was quiet, save for the occasional car passing by and the faint ambulance siren from a distance.

Beomgyu leaned back, hands tucked in the pockets of his hoodie. His shoulder brushed against yours—too light to be deliberate, yet too lingering to be accidental. You stiffened, feeling the tension in the air rise. There it was again—the jolt of electricity that made your heart skip a beat. You were beginning to think he would make a very good defibrillator.

“I almost forgot to tell you, I got an email a while back and I have a job interview tomorrow!” You said, a wide smile blooming on your face.

“Really? That’s great! I hope you get it.” He said, beaming at you. “But what about your shift, though? Do you need me to take over?”

“Oh no, that’s taken care of. I talked to Yeonjun and he said he’ll handle it.” You replied, but you sounded way too casual about it for Beomgyu’s liking.

“You asked Yeonjun? Why him?” He pouted, realizing that he wasn’t the first person you considered, moreover, not the first person to receive the good news either.

“Well, he was the only one out of everyone else who won’t be busy tomorrow.”

I’m the last one to find out?! He wanted to say, but bit his tongue to keep it from spilling out. “But you could have asked me. I’ve been with you the entire time.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you mention that you have a quiz first thing tomorrow morning? You should be focusing on passing that instead of covering my shift.”

“Like I can't do both? You underestimate me.” He huffed and crossed his arms.

“It's not like that.” You chuckled, amused at how mopey he was being. “It's your last year in college. You can't afford any distractions this time around.”

“Who said you were distracting?”

“What?”

“Who said I was distracted?”

Silence stretched between you, as if time had frozen, and your gazes met. Beomgyu was still, his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights—he dared not move a muscle, as if doing so made him invisible. Meanwhile, you blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly the first time. Then he shrugged, feigning nonchalance, before playfully bumping into your shoulder.

“I mean—” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, stretching back as if he wasn’t internally panicking. “I’m perfectly capable of juggling my studies with work. It’s never been a problem for me before. What? Like it’s hard?”

He said it so whimsically, even adding in a quote from an excellent movie. But buried beneath his laughter, he was desperately hoping you would catch the bait he just threw. You couldn’t be fooled, though.

“What did you just say?” You asked, not ready to move on from his Freudian slip.

“I said I can multitask. It’s not a distraction if I’m helping you out.” He said nonchalantly as he ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the time on the bus schedule, anxiously bouncing his leg and praying you would just leave his little blunder alone.

You sighed in defeat and decided to let it go, although feeling a little frustrated. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He turned to you with a smirk and nudged you with his elbow, suddenly in a teasing mood. “Then next time you’ve got news, maybe tell me first… before Yeonjun.”

His tone carried a subtle edge that you certainly didn’t miss, the pout reappearing on his lips.

“Noted, I’ll do better next time… but why does this bother you?” You asked, tilting your head, eyes searching for answers in the expression on his face.

“Because,” he said simply, “I like it when I’m the one you call first. Not after Yeonjun… or anyone else.”

This time, he locked eyes with you, his gaze steady and unflinching. A warmth swelled in your chest and crept up to your cheeks while chills ran down your body. His words echoed in your head, crossing a fine line between a plea and a confession, leaving you wondering if you should read into it or let it slip quietly away.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” You said in a low hushed whisper, almost as if you were too afraid to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“Like what?” He asked, lips twitching into a smug yet gentle smile.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Nevermind.”

Before he could press you for an answer, the bus rolled up with a loud hiss and the doors slid open. You both got up from your seats and climbed aboard, leaving the moment full of unspoken feelings to linger at the bus stop, tucked away in the past where it would stay. However, the tension between you was stubborn, refusing to dissipate and remained with you for the rest of the ride.

It was early in the afternoon the following day when Beomgyu clocked in at work. Your absence at the café shadowed him like a raincloud hovering above his head. It’s not that he was against you being away for an important job interview—in fact, he was so ecstatic about it that he wished you luck over the call early this morning before leaving for class. He just missed having you around to spend time with and work like a ‘dynamic duo’ (a term he coined sometime ago). How he dreaded the day you would finally resign. Working at the café wouldn’t be the same without you.

“Looks like we’ve got an order on the delivery app.” Yeonjun said, taking a look at the POS device. “Two iced caramel macchiatos, a breakfast croissant, and… rose pasta.” “You take the kitchen, I’ll handle the drinks.” Beomgyu said, already positioned at the coffee station.

Yeonjun hummed in approval and left the room. Just then, the bell above the door chimed and Beomgyu instinctively turned to greet the customer—only for his brain to system crash. Doah walked into the café, instantly locking eyes with him, and his mind blue-screened so hard it needed a forced reboot. Internally panicking, he bolted for the kitchen door, muttering about Yeonjun burning the pasta.

“Change of plans. I take the kitchen, you handle the drinks.” Beomgyu said, attempting to snatch the ladle out of the other boy’s hand.

“No way. I was here first!” Yeonjun shot back, shielding himself with his arm to keep the former from stealing it.

“Come on, just let me have this.” Beomgyu made another grab but Yeonjun stretched his arm far from his reach.

“Why are you acting so crazy? You broke the coffee machine, didn't you?” Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Beomgyu relented and sighed. “There’s a customer outside that I’d rather not deal with.”

“Why not?”

“She asked for my Instagram yesterday and followed me.”

Yeonjun raised a brow. “And how is that a problem?”

He hesitated, squirming. “Let’s just say Y/N isn’t fond of her.”

“Ohhh.” Yeonjun nodded knowingly, a mischievous grin spreading like wildfire on his face. “They’re jealous.”

“What?! That’s not what I said.” Beomgyu retorted.

“Trust me, it’s obvious. Still not my circus, not my monkeys.” Yeonjun said, turning the stove off and grabbing the other boy by his shoulders, then shoved him out of the kitchen. “Deal with it yourself.”

With that, Beomgyu was sent stumbling back to the counter where Doah was eyeing the pastries in the display case. Upon hearing him return, she glanced up with a bright smile as he straightened his apron, as if it somehow made him look less flustered. 

“Find anything you like in there?” He quipped, shuffling behind the cash register like it was a shield, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

“Actually, there is something I like over…” She drawled as her fingers tiptoed across the counter and stopped just short of him, “here.”

Beomgyu let out a small squeak, mentally scrambling for words but coming up with none.

“Aha! Yes,” Doah cut in smoothly, her index finger sliding down the menu lying on top of the counter. “I’d like a hot pumpkin spice latte. To go, please.”

“Great taste!” He chuckled sheepishly and tapped a few buttons on the touch screen pad. “Would that be cash or card?”

Doah fished through her wallet, took out her money, and handed it to him. Beomgyu took it—indifferent to the way her hand brushed against his—opened the drawer to the cash register, and then handed over her change.

“This will probably take a while, we just have to finish up an order for delivery. Why don’t you take a seat first?” He said, stepping away from the cashier and returning to the coffee station.

“Yeah, take your time. I’d love to watch how you make the drinks.” She sat on a chair by the pickup side with her chin propped up in her palm.

Beomgyu pressed his lips together into a thin line. Doah’s flirting game was strong but he had no interest in playing along. Without you around, it wasn’t the same. Seeing the look of jealousy on your face, the sarcasm dripping off your words like venom, the way you distracted yourself with insignificant tasks—it was half the fun. No, all of it.

Without it, it just felt hollow. Like there was a you-shaped hole in his heart and he needed your presence to patch it up. Your attention was far more captivating than Doah’s and he knew he was hopeless if he still kept his feelings to himself.

But alas, he couldn't risk upsetting the perfect balance of the universe that allowed him to exist in the same time and place as you. He couldn't stand the thought of you pulling away should he cross the line beyond being friends. So instead, he swallowed it down, but it was like drowning at sea, the saltwater burning in his lungs.

“Watch out! Hot stuff coming through!” Yeonjun scurried out of the kitchen, holding a takeout box of freshly cooked rose pasta in his hands.

He set it down on the counter then went over to the display case to grab a breakfast croissant with a pair of tongs. Beomgyu gave the drinks a neat drizzle of caramel and capped them before carrying them over to the counter. He fit the cups into a takeaway holder as Yeonjun stood next to him, placing the food into a paper bag before sealing it with a stapler.

“Delivery rider should be here in about…” Yeonjun read off the screen of the delivery app, “three minutes.”

“Well, time for me to make that pumpkin spice latte.” Beomgyu wiped his hands dry on a dishtowel and returned to the coffee station.

Meanwhile, the other boy stood by the cash register, waiting for someone to arrive and claim the order. He glanced to the side and caught sight of Doah, who had been patiently waiting in her seat, scrolling through her phone but peeking every now and then at Beomgyu. It did not take long for him to piece two and two together. A cheeky smirk formed on his face as he sauntered towards his co-worker.

“Is that her? She is pretty cute.” Yeonjun teased, nudging him.

“Cut it out.” Beomgyu muttered, pouring milk into a steel cup and turning on the steamer, releasing a sharp hiss. He purged out the excess water before lifting the cup to the nozzle, the milk frothing and a sweet scent filling the air.

Yeonjun took one more glance at Doah. She had lost interest in her phone and was now watching them curiously. He turned back to Beomgyu whose eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he carefully tilted the cup, the milk swirling in a gentle vortex. 

“You know, I can see why Y/N would feel threatened.”

“Threatened?” Beomgyu let out an incredulous scoff. “The only threat here is this boiling milk to your face.”

Before Yeonjun could clap back at him, the bell chimed and a man walked in. Outside was a motorcycle with a delivery box parked by the curb. 

“And that's my cue.” He stepped away to hand over the takeout order to the delivery rider.

The cup in Beomgyu’s hand grew warmer, the milk slowly rising to the brim. He held it in his hands for a few more seconds until it was almost too hot to touch and set the cup aside. He twisted the knob on the machine and turned off the steamer.

Once the drink was blended, he grabbed a paper cup from the neatly stacked pile you had unnecessarily fussed over yesterday—he giggled at the image of you with a pout etched on your face, eyebrows knit together as you refused to look his way—and poured the warm pumpkin spice latte into it, topping it with whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon powder.

“Here you go. Be careful, it’s hot.” Beomgyu slid the cup across the counter towards Doah.

“Funny, I was about to say the same about you.” She said with a playful glint in her eyes and took the cup.

Beomgyu quickly pulled his hand away and tugged at his apron, straightening it again like he always did when he was nonplussed by her flirty remarks. This did not go unnoticed by Doah who giggled at his reaction, stirring her latte idly.

“So… I’m guessing you must have had a busy day yesterday?” She asked.

“Well, we were quite preoccupied. Lots of customers—especially in the evening.” He answered. “Why’d you ask?”

“Well…” she tilted her head, the kind of move that might have made his chest tighten if it had been you. From Doah, though, it fell flat. “I understand work must have been so hectic and you probably forgot to follow me back.”

He never intended to. In fact, he had already deleted her follow request immediately after she left the café yesterday. Doah showing up again only proved how impressively persistent she was. Beomgyu’s ears tinged with pink, realizing she must have found out.

“I–uh… yeah, I totally forgot all about it,” he stammered, taking a dishrag and wiping the counter clean. “I was just so tired, I went right to sleep as soon as I got home.”

“It’s fine… I was just hoping to wake up to your cute face on my feed,” she said and brought the cup to her lips before stopping short a few millimeters. “But I guess seeing you here in person is even better.” She winked and then took a sip.

“Oh, don’t waste your time.” Yeonjun appeared out of nowhere, casually slinging an arm around Beomgyu’s shoulders, a teasing grin on his face. “He’s already taken. That barista he was with yesterday? Yeah, they’re totally dating. Aren’t you, Beomgyu?”

Doah’s eyes went wide, taken aback as she stared at him, waiting for his response. He stood there for a moment, blinking and utterly appalled at Yeonjun’s sheer audacity to lie. There was a smirk on his face so wide as if he had just dropped the juiciest gossip. Before the awkwardness could thicken, Beomgyu knew he had to take matters into his own hands.

He opened his mouth and all he could come up with was, “Yeonjun!”

“Oh, shit!” He slapped a palm to his forehead, feigning shock. “I forgot you guys were still keeping it a secret,” then he lowered his hand and turned to Doah, the smirk returning to his face. “But between you and me, they weren’t exactly subtle about it. He still blushes when he gets a text from Y/N. He’s completely smitten—”

“Alright, I think you’ve said enough.” Beomgyu snatched a napkin from the dispenser and slapped it over Yeonjun’s mouth.

Doah laughed, yet the sound of her voice quickly wavered and her smile did not reach all the way up to her eyes. She took another sip of her pumpkin spice latte, but longer this time, as her gaze drifted to the side in thought. Once she set the cup down, she stood from her seat and slung her bag over her shoulder.

“Well, I guess that explains a lot.” She glanced one last time at Beomgyu, wearing a smile that dimmed at the edges. “Lucky Y/N. I’ll just have to settle for my latte then.”

Then she grabbed her cup and left the café, like a soldier retreating from a lost battle. The bell clinked and then there was silence. Beomgyu whirled around immediately, seizing Yeonjun by the shoulders.

“Are you crazy?!” He shrieked, shaking the older boy so hard his head bobbed. “You told her I’m dating Y/N! What if they hear about this? They’ll kill me!”

Yeonjun laughed, prying the younger boy’s hands off. “Relax. You can’t be more wrong. Did you really think I was making all of that up?"

Beomgyu froze, his already pink ears glowing into a bright red. “W-What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“Seriously, Beomgyu?” Yeonjun crossed his arms. “Anyone with eyes can see that you and Y/N like each other.”

Beomgyu scoffed and ran his fingers through his hair, pacing behind the counter. “You can’t be more wrong. Just because we’ve been working here the longest, it only makes sense that we’re really close friends, but it doesn’t mean we like each other.”

“Sure.” The older boy rolled his eyes. He held his arm out to the counter, blocking Beomgyu from moving any further. “Deny it all you want but we’ve seen how you look at Y/N with those heart eyes. It’s disgusting!”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe you’re reading too much into it?”

“Am I also reading too much into it when you two cover for each other every time one of you makes a mistake? Or when you take the bus with Y/N until they get home even though you live on the opposite side of town? Or how Y/N immediately volunteers to take over your shifts when you can’t?”

Beomgyu’s mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water, but no words came out. He wracked his brain for a response—an excuse—but each one died on his tongue. Yeonjun was right but he was too proud to back down and admit it. Even though it was the truth, saying it out loud would make it feel too real. If you found out he had been harboring a deep affection for you for quite some time now, how would you react? Would it make things different between you? He was afraid of what might happen next.

“We’re co-workers.” Beomgyu said at last, his voice cracking halfway through. “We’re supposed to have each other’s backs. You know… teamwork.”

“Oh, cut the crap!” Yeonjun snorted so hard it bounced off the walls of the café. “Teamwork, my ass. Then I guess I should start offering to carry Soobin’s bag and hold his hand every time we cross the street.”

Beomgyu’s jaw dropped to the floor, his face flushing. “I do not hold Y/N’s hand!”

“I never said that,” Yeonjun shot back with a wolfish grin.

The younger boy groaned, collapsing against the counter with his forehead in his hands. Meanwhile, his teasing co-worker just laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

“You do a really bad job at denying it,” he said, then the expression on his face shifted into a more serious one. “But how long do you plan to keep on pretending? Y/N is bound to move on—to a better job, maybe even someone else—and then what? Stop stalling before you lose your shot for good.”

A chill ran down Beomgyu’s spine as realization dawned upon him. Yeonjun gave him a reassuring pat on the back before pulling away to go back into the kitchen. As soon as he left, Beomgyu eventually stood up, regaining composure as he resumed carrying out his duties at the counter. However, he could not seem to brush off Yeonjun’s words that echoed in his head incessantly throughout the day.

“And then what?”

He may not know what would happen next, but surely enough, he did not want to risk losing his chance at something real all because he was too scared to try.

The next few days went by normally. You were back at the café, working full-time, while Beomgyu and the rest of the part-timers rotated shifts.

The first thing you talked about when you got to work together was your job interview. You were brimming with excitement and a newfound confidence he had never seen in you before—and he loved how it looked on you. Your energy was so infectious that he could not help but give in to it, ignoring the anxiety prickling in his heart.

Today was a particularly busy day. The café was bustling with customers; seats were taken and tables were full, but that did not stop more from coming. Takeout sales went up for those who could not be seated.

The workload was too hectic for two people alone. Due to this, you called for backup and thankfully, Soobin showed up to lend a hand. With three of you on the job, it was much more manageable. Soon enough, the swarm dwindled to a murmur and you finally had a moment to catch your breath and sit down.

“The sink is overflowing with dishes but I really don't feel like doing them now.” Beomgyu dragged a stool next to you and plopped down on it.

“Let Soobin take care of that.” You said with a yawn.

The boy next to you stretched and the bones on his back released a series of satisfying pops. You chuckled in amusement then mimicked him, unable to resist the temptation of cracking your back. Somehow it helped ease the tension in your body and you felt much lighter than before.

The two of you sat in silence, simply taking the time to rest in the absence of chaos. You fished your phone out of your pocket and turned it on. Thumbing through the notifications flooding your screen, you swiped them away one by one, stopping when you came across an email.

It was from the company that interviewed you a few days back. You held your breath, already bracing yourself for rejection, just like all the other jobs you applied for.

Each time, you hoped for good news but wound up with disappointment after seeing those dreaded five words. “We regret to inform you…” and that was all you needed to read. Why go on? You got the message. The rest of their explanation was irrelevant.

Beomgyu noticed your stillness. His eyes lingered on your face before dropping to the phone, which trembled in your grasp. Without second thought, he cupped your hand with both of his and the warmth of his touch was surprisingly comforting.

“You did your best. Whether you get that job or not, things are going to work out. Rejection doesn't define your self-worth. Don't let the cruel world of employment snuff out your spark. You've got potential and a promising future. Believe in yourself, Y/N.” His brown eyes bore into yours while he spoke, in a voice so gentle, as if raising it even slightly would disrupt the calm.

His genuine sincerity made your heart swell in your chest and something within you shifted. You could no longer hold onto your pride if it meant not taking a chance on Beomgyu. He was one of a kind and you would be a fool to let someone so sweet and caring as him slip away.

“It’s a good thing you're here with me today. I don't know what I’d do without you. Thanks, Beomgyu.” An earnest smile bloomed on your face along with the courage to open the email sitting in your notifications.

You bit your lip in an attempt to steady your nerves as you read through the message.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, slapping your free hand over your mouth. “I got the job. What? We are pleased to inform you… oh my god, I got the job! Beomgyu, I'm hired!”

You jumped up from your seat and squealed, catching the attention of some customers in the café. Beomgyu immediately stood up, joining you in your revelry. You threw your arms around each other and bounced up and down like little kids behind the counter.

He giggled in delight. “Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!”

“What's going on here?” Soobin asked upon walking in and you paused from jumping.

“Y/N passed the interview! They're hired!” Beomgyu exclaimed.

“That's wonderful news. Congratulations!” The taller boy rushed over for a group hug, squeezing both of you in his arms. After a few seconds, he let go when Beomgyu started squirming and pleading for air. “We should throw you a farewell party. A proper send-off before you step into the real world.”

“Of course! We should ask Ms. Jung to join us too. After all, this café, and her, carried me through college.” You said.

“She has helped us out a lot.” Soobin nodded thoughtfully and briefly patted you on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ve got to clear the sink before the next rush hour.”

With that, he gave one last smile before turning away and slipping into the kitchen, leaving you and Beomgyu alone behind the counter. The café seemed to quiet just a little, but you were still bubbling over with excitement. You glanced at the boy next to you and beamed, his heart skipping a beat, he could have sworn he saw stars twinkling.

“Hey… want to celebrate after work?” You asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. “Just the two of us,” you added.

Beomgyu grinned like an idiot. “Of course, I do! Where are we going?”

You chuckled softly, pleased by his uncontainable enthusiasm. “There’s this new diner I’ve been wanting to try for some time now. Their dessert menu looks interesting. What do you think?”

“I do love diners and desserts,” he said—and you, he almost added. “I’m sold.”

“Then it’s set!” You said, clapping your hands together. “We’ll head there right after closing.”

You promptly went back to work, unable to hide the giddiness in your grin. Beomgyu found it endearing, his eyes reluctant to leave you before he finally forced himself to look away.

“And then what?”

He may soon have to find out. It made him nervous, but nevertheless you were worth the risk.

Once the café was closed and Soobin had gone his way, you and Beomgyu set off together toward the diner. The streets were lined with traffic, the noise of horns and engines drifting in the background. LED signages and street lights colored the night aglow, the pedestrian light flashing green as you felt Beomgyu hook his fingers to the strap of your bag, tugging you close to his side while you crossed. Upon reaching the other side, he tugged slightly stronger on your bag, trying to get it off your shoulder.

“You don’t always have to carry my bag for me, you know.” You said, though there was no hint of protest in your tone.

“I know,” he replied simply. “I just want to.”

“Why?” You asked, eyeing him curiously.

His answer was quick, made without thought, a deflection disguised as nonchalance. “Why not?”

You tried to read the look on his face, as if it were much easier for him to show than tell, but he was just like a starless night—full of secrets. He locked eyes with you and smiled, the kind that meant he knew what you were up to. Then he looped his arm around yours and steered you ahead with a gentle but eager shove.

“Come on. I’m hungry! Where is this diner, anyway?” Beomgyu whined and you could practically hear him pouting through his words.

“We’re almost there—hey, not too fast! I might fall!” You laughed as he tugged you along.

“Then hold on tight because I’m not slowing down.” He teased as you struggled to pick up the pace.

Seven hundred meters, ten minutes, two crosswalks, and a single detour down the wrong street later, you finally stood before the diner. And to your dismay, it was closed. The lights were out, the doors were locked, and the sign out front read “Sorry, we are CLOSED”.

“No, this can’t be. I swear I checked their page and it says they’re open until midnight.” You said, taking your phone out to double check. As your eyes scanned their latest post, you frowned and let out a dejected sigh. “Well, shit. They’re under maintenance… for three days.”

“Don’t fret. The night is still young.” Beomgyu said in an attempt to cheer you up as he rubbed circles on your back. “You and I can still celebrate.”

You gazed forlornly at the diner. “I don’t know where else to go. I was really looking forward to trying their brownie sundae!” 

“I know a place. Come on.” He held out his hand for you to take.

For a moment, you stared at him. The gesture was simple yet so tender, causing something tacit to tug at your heartstrings. Your heartbeat was thumping loudly, you could hear it, tuning out the rest of the world. For a split second, you wondered if Beomgyu was being his typical self, casually sweet and good-natured. But one look into his eyes and you could see right through. Smiling, you finally slipped your hand into his, letting him lead the way. Your palms pressed against each other, filled with warmth and an unspoken longing. It felt like catching starlight—fleeting, but achingly surreal.

Beomgyu warned you that it was going to be quite far, but with nothing else to do tonight and tomorrow being your day off, you didn’t mind. It took one bus ride away from the suburbs, you and Beomgyu sitting side by side, sharing a pair of earphones. You stared out the window, watching the city lights guide you to your destination as you allowed the music to quiet your thoughts.

Twenty minutes went by unnoticed until you felt Beomgyu tapping you on the shoulder, signaling that you arrived at your stop. As you alighted from the bus, a cool breeze drifted by and you were instantly hit with the scent of moss and fresh earth. The trees rustled gently in the wind and the shrill buzzing of cicadas drowned out everything else.

He pointed at a convenience store across the road. “Let’s go in there and grab some food first.”

You nodded, humming in agreement. He took you by the hand again as your heart violently skipped a beat, and then you walked across the road and into the convenience store.

Even though tonight went differently, you were happily living in the moment. Beomgyu sat across you, his hair falling over his eyes as he hungrily slurped the last of his ramyeon. Meanwhile, you were chewing on your food while popping open a can of soda. It fizzed and the smell of sweet carbonated cherry filled your nose as you lifted the drink to your lips to take a sip.

“So, where to next?” You asked before taking another swig of cherry soda.

“You’ll see,” he said, showing you his palm and making grabby fingers—a gesture that meant he wanted to try what you were having too. Despite the moue of disapproval on your face, you passed him the can anyway. He drank down a few gulps, much to your annoyance that you began pinching his arm until he stopped and gave it back.

“Don’t finish it!” You said, snatching it from his fingers.

He only chuckled before letting out a small burp. He said, “Wanna grab some ice cream?”

“Finally, dessert!” You stood up from your seat, collecting your trash and discarding it in the bin.

“But I'm paying this time.” Beomgyu said with narrowed eyes and you shook your head dismissively. “You paid the bus fare for both of us and all the food we just ate. At least let me pay for the ice cream, please?”

You smirked and pinched his cheek, teasing him. “Fine, but if you're paying, I'm getting the most expensive one they have.”

Then you let go and slid the freezer open in search of a sweet treat. His fingers brushed the spot you had pinched, a tingling sensation lingering on his skin, as he gazed at you fondly. At last, you chose one in your favorite flavor and held it up with a big smile on your face. It was a sight to behold that had Beomgyu thinking that he would happily buy it for you everyday, even if it cost him his whole paycheck, just to see you smile.

“What? Is there something on my face?” You asked. 

Beomgyu snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had been staring a little too long. “I was just thinking since I’m paying for it, would you at least let me have the first bite?” 

You shrugged coolly. “Sure, why not?”

“Actually, forget it.” He said and grabbed another ice cream. “I’ll just buy the same one so we can match. Besides, anything you like has to be good.”

He said it so casually yet it made you blush.

“I guess it’s decided. Let’s pay for it now.” You said and walked to the counter in haste, hoping he wouldn’t catch the flustered look on your face.

After Beomgyu added a bag of chips and paid for everything, you both stepped outside again. The air smelled sharper and greener, the cicadas still singing under the soft glow of the moonlight. He guided you to the other side of the street, and you easily fell into stride beside him, eating your ice cream along the way.

Past the foliage of trees and down the stone steps, you found yourself at a park by the riverside. It was quaint and tranquil, with so few people around you could count them on one hand. There was a vacant bench facing the river and Beomgyu went over to it with you in tow, taking a seat once you stood before it.

At first, it was silent. The both of you simply basked in each other’s presence as you watched the river steadily drift by, the reflection of stars and city lights sparkling in the water. Though your mind began wandering elsewhere, it could barely ignore the feeling of Beomgyu’s leg pressed up against yours. Rather than tensing up, this time, you allowed yourself to feel comfortable. You had always liked the warmth of his touch, even if your feelings made you jump at every brush of contact. However, tonight, with the truth lingering on the edge of your tongue, you chose to welcome the closeness instead of shying away.

“This is certainly better than going to that diner.” You said, gazing moonily at the scenery before you, half-distracted by the haze of your thoughts

“Really? What about the brownie sundae you were talking about?” Beomgyu teased, but he couldn’t help himself from grinning at your words.

“I’m still going to try it someday,” you giggled, then turned to him and smiled tenderly. “But I’d love to come here more often with you.”

Beomgyu returned your smile, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Yeah, me too.”

I should tell him now, you thought but the second you opened your mouth, all your courage went down the drain together with your words. You mentally scolded yourself for hesitating, but you miscalculated your confidence and were at a loss for what to do next. Soon, you both finished consuming your ice creams and Beomgyu tore open the bag of chips.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving the café so soon. I’ve gotten used to working with you there.” He said, digging into the bag and tossing a chip into the air before catching it in his mouth.

“Me neither. I’m going to be a real adult and start doing adult things,” you said, sticking your hand into the bag, the wrapper crinkling as you dug for a chip. “Filing taxes, paying bills, building my career… I’m going to be adulting.” Your voice was filled with dread as you dramatically shuddered.

“You’ll be fine. You always figure things out,” he said. “Remember that time a customer ordered a blueberry muffin and I punched it in, forgetting we were sold out? And instead of refunding them or asking them to order something else, you sent me to the nearest grocery store to buy blueberry compote. While I was out, you chatted up the customer to keep them from growing impatient. Then when I came back, you grabbed a plain muffin, cut it open, and filled it with blueberry compote before serving it to the customer.”

“Yeah, that was actually a clever move. After that, Ms. Jung promoted me to team leader.” You smiled fondly at the memory.

“Clever.” He nodded in agreement. “Resourceful and charming too. The world needs more people like you in it, Y/N.”

“Aw… thanks.” You ducked your head, hiding the way your cheeks warmed at his words.

Beomgyu smirked knowingly, watching you from the corners of his eyes before playfully bumping into your shoulder. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re reliable and people don’t just like you—they lean on you.”

“Like you’re doing right now?” You teased and he rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him.

Then you poked your finger into his side, causing him to yelp and jump away before he seized you by the wrists to keep you from tickling him any more. You both laughed in glee as he held you tightly while you struggled to free yourself from his grasp.  

“Will you stop wriggling so I can finish?” he said with a grin, but something in his tone drew the mischievousness right out of you, grounding you in the moment.

“You were saying that you can lean on me.” You said with his hands still firmly wrapped around your wrists.

And if you didn't notice before, you were now highly aware of how close you were. Beomgyu’s face was mere inches from yours, you could feel his hot breath fanning over your skin. His hands trembled nervously but his gaze was fixed on yours, heavy and lingering. It messed with the rhythm of your heart, beating much faster than you thought was possible.

“It’s because you’re strong,” Beomgyu said, voice low, loosening his grip on your wrists but not letting go. “You don’t back down from a challenge, even the ones that make others give up. You find a way around it. You’re a good listener, but you don’t just help people feel seen, you make sure they’re understood.”

He spoke almost too earnestly, it was hard not to believe he meant more than he was saying. Hope surged in your chest, wild and frantic, coalescing with the fear that you were only imagining it. Beomgyu let the silence stretch as he thought of his next words very carefully. Meanwhile, your pulse hammered in your ears as you prayed he would speak again. 

After one long minute that felt like an eternity of waiting, he said, “You’re the type that makes people believe they can get through the day… because you make me believe I can. You—”

His voice faltered, breath hitching as he broke eye contact. For a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of saying more, his lips parting—but he caught himself, pressing his mouth shut before the words could escape.

“Y-You make me wish you w-weren’t leaving the café.” He sputtered out quickly and let go of your wrists to rub the back of his neck. All the sincerity and courage he mustered up instantly shattered, replaced by timidity. “Anyway, I’m really going to miss working with you.”

Oh. 

You were quite frustrated with how that turned out, but you couldn’t blame him. You were just as reluctant. There was nothing else you could do but soften at his words and allow a small smile—half warmth, half the ache of words left unsaid, a bittersweet feeling sitting in your chest.

“Yeah, me too, Beomgyu.” You reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, “me too.”

Later that night, you would find yourself in bed, laying wide awake and staring at the ceiling above. The quiet of your apartment amplified the restlessness inside you. Questions raced in your mind as you replayed everything that happened earlier.

Confusion surrounding Beomgyu’s real intentions and feelings grew, but it only sharpened the ache in your heart. He could lie to you all he pleased, but someday he would have to face the truth. Although you understood his fear, you hoped he trusted you enough to know you’d still be by his side when his walls finally came crumbling down.

Day after day, Beomgyu went to his classes with his hands in his pockets and headphones in his ears, but his thoughts were always louder than the music. The lecture hall faded around him as he spun a pen in his hand, his mind circling back to the night by the river. In his hands, he held your wrists and felt each pulse drumming against the pads of his fingers. He recalled the way you looked under the moonlight, your eyes wide and bright, keenly listening to his every word like it was gospel. 

The moment you shared was very sentimental that he nearly drew back his facade, as though it were a veil of clouds dissolving into a mist, faint starlight peeking through. However, as soon as he was about to say it, his throat tightened and fear held him back. He caught a shadow of disappointment flicker in your eyes, which was quickly masked by a forced and subtly pained smile.

Beomgyu cursed himself for hesitating. The timing was just right, perfect even, yet he could not bring himself to tell you the truth. He hated being such a coward, especially when he was so close to finally opening up his heart to you. But he didn’t, and the weight of his regret felt much heavier than the years of longing he carried for you.

“Earth to Beomgyu. Earth to Beomgyu!” Soobin snapped his fingers in front of his face.

Beomgyu blinked, realizing class had already been dismissed while he had been staring absentmindedly at a blank page on his notebook. He hopped out of his seat and picked up his bag, flinging it carelessly over his shoulder.

“You okay?” Soobin asked, chasing after Beomgyu as he walked down the steps, in a rush to exit the lecture hall. “Hey, wait up!”

“What?!” He whipped around with a scowl on his face. Although he didn’t mean to sound so harsh, it came out that way, the taller boy visibly flinching at his tone.

“Dude, I just wanted to check in on you.” He said, raising his palms in front of him like he were approaching a wild animal. “I’ve noticed you’ve been out of it lately. Are you alright?”

Beomgyu noticed the way his own shoulders were tensed up. He rolled them back and sighed.

“I’m fine… yeah, I’m good.” He lied; it was lazy, but he didn’t care enough to make up a more compelling argument or even try to sound convincing.

“Seriously, you’re gonna have to do better than that if you want me to stop asking.” Soobin crossed his arms and eyed him skeptically.

“You’ll tire out eventually because I don’t want to talk about it.” Beomgyu’s reply was curt as he tugged on the strings of his hoodie and tightened it.

Then he began to walk away when Soobin said, “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?”

Hearing your name alone was enough to stop Beomgyu in his tracks. He stood rigid, like a tree rooted to its spot.

“You’re anxious about them resigning, and it’s been eating at you for a while now.” Soobin didn’t wait for him to reply and continued, “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you have trouble paying attention in class lately? And you’ve been messing up a few orders this week. You poured milk in a customer’s black coffee for fuck’s sake.”

Beomgyu’s jaw tightened, but he mustered up a scoff as he finally turned to face Soobin.

“Look, I haven’t been sleeping well these days because I stay up until three in the morning to study,” He said, knowing all too well that he’s been sleep-deprived because he spent nights overthinking things between you. “I’m bound to make a few mistakes which I am taking accountability for, but it’s no big deal. I’m just tired and I really want to go back to my dorm now.”

Soobin raised a brow. “Tired enough to pour milk into straight black coffee?”

“Leave it, Bin.” He grumbled, tugging his hood lower over his face. “It’s not about Y/N. You’re reading into things.”

Before his friend could say another word, Beomgyu dashed off, disappearing down the hallway.

“And then what?”

It rang in his head, over and over, like a broken record he couldn’t shut off. It was also a gnawing reminder that his time was running out and he had to act sooner before his chance could slip away.

By the time a week had gone by, the day of your farewell party arrived, and Beomgyu’s nerves were shooting through the roof. It was a Friday and Ms. Jung shortened the café’s business hours, closing two hours earlier than usual to make time for the celebration. She invited all of you to dinner at a Korean barbecue restaurant across town. 

While you bickered with Soobin and Yeonjun over who would be in charge of the grill, Beomgyu could hardly hear a word, too absorbed in his own thoughts as he bounced his leg restlessly. The fact that you were all celebrating your farewell felt strange. He truly was happy for you achieving a new milestone in your life, but the trepidation creeping in his bones made it hard for him to be in the moment.

“Why don’t you help out by cutting up the meat?” Yeonjun said, shoving a pair of scissors into Beomgyu’s hands with a pointed look.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” He stuttered, reaching over to snip at the beef strips sizzling in the grill.

Meanwhile, you stole glances at him every once in a while. It was hard not to notice that Beomgyu wasn't being his usual self. He seemed to fade into the background, sitting across you wordlessly with glassy eyes. If your suspicions were correct, it was safe to assume neither of you have moved on from the night by the river.

The table buzzed with chatter and laughter, empty dishes clattering as you stacked them near the edge of the table, smoke and the warm, savory aroma of meat filled the air. Beomgyu did his best to laugh at all the jokes and stories, watch the others congratulate you, and join in on the conversation, but as the night went on, the more he grew anxious. Soon, the drinks came and you were now taking shots. He swallowed down the alcohol together with the words burning in his throat, desperate to escape.

“Ah… this takes me back to when Y/N had their first sip of alcohol,” Ms. Jung said, turning to you with a fond grin. “You already started working at the café in your second semester of freshman year. You were so preoccupied with studies and work, leaving no time for friends or parties. I thought to myself, ‘this kid works really hard that it makes me proud, but they need to loosen up,’ so I took on the mantle of introducing Y/N to college drinking culture.”

“You’re a terrible influence, Ms. Jung.” You joked.

She picked up the bottle of soju and poured some more into your shot glass. “Just drink up and let me finish the story.” 

“You guys are seeing this, right? Unbelievable.” You threw your hands up in mock despair, earning a round of laughter from the table.

“At that time, Y/N was the youngest of my staff, being the only freshman there,” Ms. Jung said. “We went to a bar to celebrate the birthday of a previous employee—”

“Eunbi.” You supplied.

“—and then we ordered some cocktails and beer. Beginner drinks,” Ms. Jung continued. “Y/N tried the cocktails first, figuring they’d be the easiest way to ease into the taste of alcohol. After a few glasses, they grew confident and wanted to try beer next. So we poured them a glass and then… and then…”

Ms. Jung’s words dissolved into a fit of giggles as she recalled the memory, pounding the tabletop with her fist as she grew red in the face.

“Get yourself together, Ms. Jung! Don’t leave us hanging! Tell us what happened next!” Beomgyu egged her on, already a bit tipsy after downing more shots past the point of keeping count.

“They took one swig and spat the beer back out into the glass. Then they started coughing like they’d choked on a fish bone! The look on Y/N’s face was priceless!”

The table roared with laughter, you included. Tears were prickling in the corners of your eyes and you couldn’t even be mad. It was indeed a hilarious memory and it was nice to finally see Beomgyu filled with mirth that night.

Soobin decided it was his turn next. He recounted a time when the café ran out of condensed milk and you asked him to make a run to the nearest grocery store. But to your surprise, he was afraid of crossing the street on his own, something he revealed to you quite bashfully. It ended with you on the run, leaving him alone to take charge of the café.

“Boy, was it a relief to see that he hadn’t burned the place down while I was away.” You teased.

“How are you six foot one and afraid of crossing the street alone?” Yeonjun said, looking at him incredulously.

“The crosswalk light was broken!” Soobin retorted, hitting him with his elbow. 

After that, it was Yeonjun’s turn. He recalled when he was the only employee during the morning shift on a chill day. It was raining hard and he was dealing with a bad stomachache. When there were finally no customers around, he temporarily closed the café and locked the front door before using the restroom. By the time he was done, he saw you glaring at him from outside the door, shivering and drenched from the downpour.

“They stood there, shaking like a wet dog! I felt so bad, but now I just laugh whenever I remember it.” He grinned, trying his best not to burst out laughing again.

“You’re mean.” You pouted and gave him the stink eye.

Throughout the entire time sharing stories, your eyes kept finding Beomgyu’s in the laughter. Each glance was like a silent reassurance, despite the words left unsaid by the river, that neither of you had pulled away. Whatever tension lingered between you gradually softened into a dull ache, small enough to ignore but impossible to forget.

“How about you, Beomgyu?” Soobin asked and everyone’s heads snapped towards him.

“Yeah, you and Y/N are the closest out of all of us. You must have thousands of fond memories together.” Yeonjun said, nodding in agreement.

You leaned forward, eyes fixed on Beomgyu and eager for whatever story he might share. Caught in the weight of your gaze, he struggled to decide where to begin. He thought of everything and nothing all at once. How could he just pick one when all his memories of you were his favorite? Especially not when the phantom of the confession he never gave by the river still haunted the corner of his thoughts.

Beomgyu thought back to the first day he met you—a memory that always stuck in his mind. He chanced upon the café on a hot day in search of a good iced americano. When he finally reached the front of the line to place his order, it was like love at first sight. You were cute and charming, causing him to develop a crush on you instantly. Thus, he came back occasionally and finally built the courage to ask you out, but the moment he stood before you, his words fell flat. Instead, he asked if there were any job openings, consequently leading to him getting hired at the café. But after ending up as co-workers, and eventually best friends, every second spent with you was special.

He recalled when you came crying to him once. You were convinced that you were going to fail a class and feared losing your scholarship. Seeing you in pain like that pained him too, so he provided you with emotional support, delivering words of comfort and reassurance. Little did he know, that was the day you started seeing him in a different light.

Suddenly, you found yourself looking forward to Beomgyu’s presence, hoping to work more shifts with him. Every brush of your fingers sent electricity surging through your veins. His laugh was an angelic melody which was enough to make you believe heaven was a place on earth. His gentle manner drew you in, like a warm sunrise over the horizon at dawn, and his silly personality lit sparks that made every moment with him feel alive. It was an unlikely blend, but fit so seamlessly. And that made you fall hopelessly in love with him over time.

“Well… Yeonjun is right. There’s just too many,” Beomgyu admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “But maybe the one that stuck with me most was when I was a bit too clumsy and scalded my hand with the steamer. I tried to act tough, saying it was nothing to worry about, but Y/N wasn’t having it.”

He let out a short laugh and glanced at you, reading the expression in your eyes. You gave a curt nod, as if to say, “Go on.”

“They marched over and dragged me behind the counter then shot me in the leg—no, I’m kidding.” Beomgyu waved his hand before him as the table erupted in snickers.

“You should thank your lucky stars that all I had was patience and burn cream, not a loaded weapon.” You remarked playfully.

Beomgyu grinned, his gaze softening before he continued. “Y/N made me run my hand under cold water and refused to let me move. I was just stuck by the sink and if I offered to help, they barked at me to stay out of it. And mind you, it was quite a busy day. After that, they shoved my ass onto a stool, grabbed the first-aid kit, and patched me up while still keeping an eye on the counter. Just imagine Y/N juggling a bandage in one hand and the café in the other. Honestly, it was impressive and terrifying at the same time. Kinda like a tiger.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. For a fleeting moment, his eyes lingered on yours again, and the table caught a faint flicker of something unspoken. It was like a flash of lightning—charged and burning, but gone in the blink of an eye. Before anyone could point it out, he quickly looked away, clearing his throat.

“After that, I couldn’t go back to work one-handed and Y/N called for backup to send me home. And honestly? It was the first time I realized just how stubborn they are. So stubborn they’d single-handedly run the café while also making sure I was taken care of.” He said, drawing his story to a close with a soft smile.

Everyone seemed to agree, nodding their heads and murmuring amongst themselves. Your heart brimmed with a pleasant warmth as you began to tear up.

“I always thought of the café as my second home. I’m really going to miss you all.” You bit down on your lip, quivering as you attempted to stifle the sobs.

“Man, you’re such a drama queen.” Yeonjun said with a shaky voice and not-so-subtly wiping the tears in his eyes, causing everyone to have one last good laugh.  

“This calls for a toast.” Ms. Jung declared and grabbed the bottle of soju, refilling each of your shot glasses. Then she raised her glass in the air as everyone followed suit. “To Y/N, we wish you nothing but the best as you explore a new chapter of your life. I hope you know we’re all proud of you. Here’s to all the success waiting for you. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The rest of you responded in unison, clinking glasses before you tipped them back.

After everyone sobered up and Ms. Jung paid the bill, you walked out of the restaurant and said your goodbyes. At first, she offered you a ride back to your place but Yeonjun discouraged her, insisting it was for the best while shooting Beomgyu a look. He knew what that meant. Time was ticking and his feelings could no longer wait. If not now, then when?

After Ms. Jung drove off and Yeonjun and Soobin headed for the subway, it was only you and Beomgyu left walking down the sidewalk. There weren’t many people around as you reached the bus stop. The night pressed in around you and the world felt smaller—just you and him in the afterglow of shared smiles and lingering warmth.

Beomgyu tucked his hands in his pockets, rocking gently on his heels as he worked up the courage to do or say something. Anything. It had to be now.

Though you sought his eyes all evening, now they were the one place you couldn’t bring yourself to look. Instead, you took interest in the cracks on the pavement, tracing them with the tip of your shoe. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, not exactly, but it was taut and stretched thin—like Cupid had an arrow drawn too long against the bowstring, longing to strike true.

For the billionth time that night, your eyes met and it felt like you were crashing into the situation you had been dodging for far too long. This could be the last time things would be the way they are and it scared you shitless. Nevertheless, what you felt was real and you had to give it a voice before it was silenced forever.

“Beomgyu,” you said, the tone in your voice delicate and shaky, “I have something to tell you.”

“Me too.” He said, like a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“But… you have to promise me that you won’t hate me after this,” you said.

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards as he gazed at you tenderly. “Nothing in this world could ever make me hate you, Y/N."

“But I need you to promise me.” You tried to sound firm but the words trembled out of your lips.

Beomgyu shook his head and stepped closer. His hands reached for yours and gently closed over them. The warmth of his touch was both exhilarating and grounding, making you blush and calming your nerves at the same time.

“You don’t have to make me promise that. Allow me to go first. Let me be the one to carry the weight of it.” He said and you felt your shoulders relax, suddenly aware of how tense you had been this whole time. “If this ruins anything, then I’ll take the blame for it.”

He drew in a shaky breath, his smile wobbly and faltering as his gaze flickered between your eyes in search of courage. Then, he let out a laugh that sounded almost self-mocking and said, “I thought I’d never say this out loud, but every day that you’re here reminds me that it’s impossible for me to keep it a secret forever.” He paused and swallowed hard, his throat burning from all the time he spent straining to keep the words from coming out. “I’m going to miss you so much, and not because we’re co-workers. I like you, Y/N. I really like you—no, I’ve had enough of being hesitant. I love you, Y/N. More than I should and for such a long time now. I’m sorry I was too afraid to tell you before, but then it scared me more to think about how different things are going to be once we lead separate lives. And now I can’t let you walk away without knowing.”

Your mouth hung agape as you stood there, stunned. His eyes glimmered with utter sincerity and you searched for any hint of mischief—but there was none. He was telling the truth and you found yourself smiling, unable to contain the rush of overflowing joy. You threw your arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace, catching him by surprise, but he was quick to respond and reciprocated the gesture.

“I love you too, Beomgyu. I’m sorry it took so long, but I knew we’d finally come around. I was also so scared because you’re my best friend and I didn’t want to lose you over this. But it pained me every single day to think I’d lose you for not being honest about my feelings.” You blurted through tears of joy while sniffling.

Then you pulled away and giggled. “Oh, this makes me so happy!”

Both of you stared at each other, grinning from ear to ear and fingers intertwining. Then you noticed Beomgyu’s gaze drifting down to your lips before finding your eyes again.

You smirked and lifted an eyebrow. “What are you planning?”

“Oh, you know,” he said in a low voice, leaning dangerously close to your face, his breath fanning over your skin, “just another thing I’ve been wanting to do for some time now.”

His lips pressed against yours, soft and reluctant, as though giving you one last chance to pull away if you happened to change your mind. But when you leaned in, sufficing as a clear response that you wanted this too, the kiss deepened and all restraint broke. 

He drew you nearer, his free hand cradling your cheek as if he was afraid you’d somehow fade away, desperate to make sure that this moment was real. Your fingers found the back of his head, threading through his soft locks, urging him closer even though there was hardly any space left between you.

The kiss was tender and sweet, yet strewn with desperation, like a ravenous appetite you were dying to finally satiate. Your lips moved in a rhythm where every missed chance and swallowed word were pacified to stillness, instead replaced by an inevitable craving for more. You could feel his pulse racing through the press of his lips as well as your own, echoing the same cadence. Every breath, every gentle brush, every lingering pause carried an intense longing for this moment and neither of you were holding back anymore—and it felt like time and space had come to a standstill for this very moment.

By the time you parted, faces barely an inch away, you were breathless. Your face was hot, your lips tingled, and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. Beomgyu spent a few seconds trying to catch his breath, chest heaving and hair slightly disheveled.

“Wow… if I had known kissing you would be this amazing I would have done it sooner.” He said with a goofy smile plastered all over his face.

“Lucky for you, there's plenty more where that came from.” You said, growing bolder as you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into another kiss.

His lips landed clumsily on yours and he laughed, nearly breaking the kiss until you pressed harder, tugging him closer to muffle out the noise. This time, there was nothing graceful about the way you moved. You bumped each other's noses and teeth, but neither of you cared. The messiness of it all only made it sweeter and intimate, as though the walls you put up were finally coming down, allowing both of you this moment of vulnerability.

When you broke away, Beomgyu laughed again, giddy and breathless. Then he rested his forehead against yours and all you could see were his warm brown eyes. You giggled with a wide smile spreading on your face that mirrored his. The joy was simply too infectious.

“I guess that makes you all mine now.” You said, more as a statement than a question.

“I was already yours long before this moment.” He said, threading his fingers with yours and clasping tightly onto your hand. “And I'll always be yours for as long as you want me.”

His answer was more than enough and you were glad. All those missed opportunities and bouts of hesitation, though they were frustrating, led to this very moment and you wouldn't have it any other way. It was perfect in your own special way.

“Still got an appetite for a brownie sundae?” He asked, the tone in his voice making it sound more like a suggestion.

You jolted back and gasped, eyes going wide as saucers. “The diner is back in business?!”

“They sure are.” He said, unable to keep himself from grinning at your adorable reaction. “I say we head there tonight and order one brownie sundae for two.”

Just then, the bus rolled in, coming to a halt with the brakes hissing. The doors opened as light spilled onto the sidewalk, illuminating the bright smiles on your faces.

“Is it a date?” You asked.

“Consider it our first.” He said.

With your hand in his, he pulled you towards the bus and guided you up the steps. The doors shut as soon as you boarded and the driver pulled away. You and Beomgyu slipped into a seat at the back, still hand in hand, your head finding solace in his shoulder while he rested his lightly atop yours.

You grabbed a plastic cup, drizzled it with syrup before filling it with ice. Then you carefully poured in the coffee, followed by milk, and lastly, the whipped cream—which was nowhere to be found inside of the fridge. 

“Soobin! We’re all out of whipped cream. Why did you let a customer order a frappe and then forget about the whipped cream?!” 

“What?! Didn't you do inventory earlier?” He asked, pausing from counting.

“Is the sky blue? Of course, I did! But sometime during your shift, you used up all the whipped cream and didn't tell me! Or even bothered to make some!” You were stressing out and it took every ounce of restraint in your body not to hit him upside the head.

“Calm down, tiger. Let me take care of that.” Beomgyu finally emerged from the kitchen in his apron and wrapped an arm around you as he gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I'll talk to the customer while you go grab the heavy whipping cream from the stocks. Breathe, okay? I don't want you to get an aneurysm over whipped cream.”

You inhaled sharply and sighed before walking off into the kitchen. Beomgyu turned to Soobin, who lowered his head, feeling guilty over the mishap.

“Sorry about that.” He said.

“Don't take it personally. Y/N just really cares a lot about working here. That's why they get worked up when something goes wrong.” Beomgyu reassured him.

“I know, but…” Soobin trailed off, glancing at the kitchen door before continuing his sentence. “Don’t you think Y/N has been super stressed lately? They're always so tense while working.”

Indeed, Beomgyu noticed this. He started working at the café a year after you began. He was the third trainee you had supervised and the second longest-serving employee after you. Due to this, the both of you were extremely close and even considered each other best friends. He quickly caught on to your quirks which made it easy for him to read your mood. So every little detail and any slight change would never go unnoticed by Beomgyu.

However, he knew this wasn't just any change of mood. You finally graduated from college four months ago but you were still working at the café. Despite sending out numerous job applications you could no longer count, not a single one had called back to say you were hired. To say you were anxious or troubled would be an understatement.

Beomgyu was well-aware that underneath the tough exterior, you were threatening to fall apart any moment. Another minor inconvenience too heavy to bear and it would tip off the entire tower. It was only a matter of time, like a fuse burning low. He had to make sure he was there to keep you from shattering under the weight of it all.

“I know, but don't worry about it. I'll talk to Y/N.” He said, patting Soobin on the back. “Just focus on that. You wouldn't wanna make a mistake with the money. The boss is the last person you'd want to get on the wrong side of. Also, could you point out who ordered the frappe?”

Soobin directed the other boy's gaze to a woman sitting in the corner of the café. Beomgyu approached her to apologize for the delay in her order and ensured that you were all working on it as promptly as you could. She didn’t seem to mind, smiling graciously before he left. As he returned to the counter, you walked out of the kitchen with a carton of heavy whipping cream in one hand.

“Great, you found it.” He said.

“Yeah but it’s staying in the freezer for a few minutes. I’m gonna have to put the hazelnut frappe in there too.” You said, turning around to reach over for the cup but Beomgyu was already handing it to you. As you took it, your hands brushed and what felt like a jolt of electricity shot up your arm, hot and sudden, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, swiftly turning your face away from him before he could catch the shift in your expression.

“Well, I’m clocking out now. Everything is balanced and double-checked.” Soobin shut the cash register with a click and took off his apron. “Sorry again about the whipped cream, Y/N.”

“It’s all good, just don’t forget next time.” You said before he headed off into the kitchen to grab his stuff from the lockers.

You shut the refrigerator door and dusted your hands off. Beomgyu was leaning against the counter, resting his weight on his elbows, silently watching you with an unreadable look. It made you uncomfortable, not in a creepy way, but more like nervousness that you were unable to tell what he was thinking.

It wasn’t the first time—and lately, it had been happening more often. Like he wanted to say something but couldn’t despite the pressure bubbling, building up inside of him. Although the silence between you was thick, whatever was holding him back was growing thinner by the day. It was only a question of when it would burst.

Soon, Soobin walked out of the door and all the tension in the air dissipated. He waved goodbye as he left and now, it was just you and Beomgyu in charge of the café. You went to clean the coffee machine while he took charge of bussing the tables before disappearing into the kitchen for a few minutes to wash the dishes.

In the meantime, a couple of customers came in and you took their orders. Beomgyu assisted you in preparing and serving them as soon as he came back, then eventually moved on to making the whipped cream.

This is what you liked about working with Beomgyu. The two of you were just so in sync with each other that it made working at the café seem like a piece of cake. Maybe it was the years of experience or the number of shifts you worked together, but either way, nothing could go wrong with Beomgyu around. He was your right hand.

“Excuse me!” Called a voice from the pickup side of the counter—it was the customer who ordered the frappe from about fifteen minutes ago.

“I’ll be with you in a sec!” Beomgyu said, finally topping the drink with a swirl of whipped cream and some more syrup. Then he sealed the cup with a dome lid, slipped it and a straw into a takeaway holder before handing it to her. “Thank you for waiting, we’ll make sure it won’t take this long next time.”

“You know, if the wait always ends with you handing me my drink, I wouldn’t mind waiting again.” She said and your ears sharpened, zeroing in on them like the instincts of a guard dog. She took the drink with a smile that lingered a little too long for your liking.

Beomgyu blinked, caught slightly off guard.

She giggled, then tilted her head. “Wait… have we met before? Oh, I know! Did you take Introductory Biostatistics last semester? Professor Hong’s class?”

“Oh… um… yeah! I-I think so…” Beomgyu blinked again while stumbling over his own words. “You’re um… sorry, I forgot your name.”

“It’s Doah. Beomgyu, right?” She tucked her hair behind her ear, still smiling coyly.

You felt steam coming out of your ears as you gripped way too tightly onto a dishcloth, scrubbing aggressively on an already spotless counter. Her voice was laced with honey, a little too sweet to be casual, but hearing it filled you with venom.

“Lucky guess! You just read that off my nametag, didn’t you?” He chuckled, shifting on his feet as he shot you a look. The kind that screamed ‘HELP ME’ with his eyes.

But you dared not to look in their direction. Not when you wanted to grab the kettle and toss it in her direction.

Doah laughed again. “Yeah, I actually never got your name. But I remembered your face. Pretty impressive how I pay attention to detail, huh?”

“Didn’t pay enough attention in class, clearly.” You muttered under your breath, moving on to cleaning the portafilter, nearly dropping the filter basket. Fortunately, you caught it in your hand. Unfortunately, it was piping hot and you instantly threw it in the sink where it clanged loudly against the metal surface.

“You okay?” Beomgyu asked, turning around to check on you.

“Oh, I’m fine.” You said and waved a hand dismissively.

Doah cleared her throat and leaned closer. “It’s really nice seeing you around again. Mind if we exchanged socials? We could follow each other on Instagram.”

Boy, was she persistent. It was pretty admirable yet so aggravating.

You took a peek from the corner of your eye and saw Beomgyu hesitate for half a second. Then he smiled faintly, the kind that was shown to others as a gesture of politeness rather than interest.

“I guess we could.” He said but before he even got to finish his sentence, Doah was already handing him her phone.

The moment their fingers touched, you bit back your irritation as Beomgyu keyed his Instagram into her phone.

“There. I just sent a follow request,” she said while taking her phone back. Then Doah smirked. “And maybe next time, you can forget about my whipped cream on purpose.”

Beomgyu gave a tight-lipped smile. “Hopefully not. We're actually trying to do better in that department.”

That made her blink, smile faltering and charm wavering for a split second. But she recovered fast. “Well… see you around then.”

And with that she scurried out of the café, bell above the door chiming as she left. Beomgyu stepped away from his spot and stood next to you, letting out a breath he had no idea he had been holding in.

“You certainly handled that well.” You said, fidgeting with the check spindle on the counter.

If you weren't seething with jealousy right now, you'd have told him she was cute and he just blew it. But you'd never say it to his face because that would only mean having to come to terms with your feelings. And it was scary to admit it out loud, even to yourself, that you had fallen for him sometime ago.

“Handled? What's that supposed to mean?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

“Come on, she was ogling you. And she gave you her Instagram! You can’t be this dense.” You rolled your eyes, accidentally tearing off a receipt from the check spindle a little too hard.

He let out a short laugh, not buying your faux casual act. “I knew what she was up to. I was just being polite to the customer.”

“Yeah… real polite.” You forced a lightness into your tone that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“You sound like you didn’t want me to be polite.” He grinned playfully and snatched your hand to keep you from tearing out more receipts. “That’s enough.”

“That’s not what I said!” You scoffed, yanking your hand out of his grasp.

“No, but maybe it’s what you meant.”

“Alright, this conversation is over. Since you’re soooo polite, maybe you should follow her back. I don’t care what you do, Beomgyu.” You walked away to find a new pointless task to do and settled with restacking the coffee cups.

Beomgyu chortled, following you from behind. “Really? Because it seems to me like you do care, though.” 

You turned to him sharply. “I said this conversation was over.”

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” He said, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk on his lips said otherwise.

You huffed, directing your focus on aligning the stack of cups so perfectly it could have passed a military inspection. He lingered for a while, watching you with that same undecipherable look from earlier, then sighed.

“I’m deleting her follow request.” He said and took out his phone from his jeans. “She wasn’t my type, anyway.”

You froze mid-stack, the corner of your mouth twitching before you forced it back down to frown.

“Well, you’re pickier than I expected.” You said snarkily.

His lips curved slightly. “I guess I am.”

He was too close for comfort and you wondered if he could possibly hear your heart thrumming in your chest.

“What are you doing just standing there anyway? Go help out in the kitchen or something. Go away.” You hissed, pushing him out of the way as you marched off to the cash register.

Beomgyu knew he had gotten to you. You were too easy to read, much to his amusement. Although he enjoyed poking holes in the facade you put on, just to catch glimpses of the feelings you kept hidden, he knew all too well that he was wearing one of his own. His was woven from careful smiles and harmless teasing, a shield to keep his real emotions from spilling out. If he let even one thread loose, he feared everything would unravel—and you’d see just how much he felt for you.

Later that night, you closed up shop and got ready to go home. You waited for Beomgyu while he dragged down the metal gate over the café and secured the lock in place. Then he got up and dusted his pants as you handed him back his backpack.

“I can’t wait to sleep. My back is killing me.” You yawned, stretching your arms above your head.

“Me too. Want me to carry your bag for you?” He offered.

“No, you don’t have to. I’m good.” You said, but he was already pulling it off of you and though you resisted initially, he was too stubborn and you caved in. You muttered, “Thanks.”

The two of you walked in silence, exhausted from all the work you accomplished today. It was a pleasant night, the cool air against your skin, and the faint hum of the city enveloped you like white noise. Your footsteps against the pavement echoed into the dark as bats flitted overhead, casting shadows underneath the glow of the streetlights.

You arrived at the nearest bus stop and sat down, Beomgyu taking the seat right next to you. It was ten minutes until the next bus rolled up, the arrival time blaring brightly on the screen. It was quiet, save for the occasional car passing by and the faint ambulance siren from a distance.

Beomgyu leaned back, hands tucked in the pockets of his hoodie. His shoulder brushed against yours—too light to be deliberate, yet too lingering to be accidental. You stiffened, feeling the tension in the air rise. There it was again—the jolt of electricity that made your heart skip a beat. You were beginning to think he would make a very good defibrillator.

“I almost forgot to tell you, I got an email a while back and I have a job interview tomorrow!” You said, a wide smile blooming on your face.

“Really? That’s great! I hope you get it.” He said, beaming at you. “But what about your shift, though? Do you need me to take over?”

“Oh no, that’s taken care of. I talked to Yeonjun and he said he’ll handle it.” You replied, but you sounded way too casual about it for Beomgyu’s liking.

“You asked Yeonjun? Why him?” He pouted, realizing that he wasn’t the first person you considered, moreover, not the first person to receive the good news either.

“Well, he was the only one out of everyone else who won’t be busy tomorrow.”

I’m the last one to find out?! He wanted to say, but bit his tongue to keep it from spilling out. “But you could have asked me. I’ve been with you the entire time.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you mention that you have a quiz first thing tomorrow morning? You should be focusing on passing that instead of covering my shift.”

“Like I can't do both? You underestimate me.” He huffed and crossed his arms.

“It's not like that.” You chuckled, amused at how mopey he was being. “It's your last year in college. You can't afford any distractions this time around.”

“Who said you were distracting?”

“What?”

“Who said I was distracted?”

Silence stretched between you, as if time had frozen, and your gazes met. Beomgyu was still, his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights—he dared not move a muscle, as if doing so made him invisible. Meanwhile, you blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly the first time. Then he shrugged, feigning nonchalance, before playfully bumping into your shoulder.

“I mean—” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, stretching back as if he wasn’t internally panicking. “I’m perfectly capable of juggling my studies with work. It’s never been a problem for me before. What? Like it’s hard?”

He said it so whimsically, even adding in a quote from an excellent movie. But buried beneath his laughter, he was desperately hoping you would catch the bait he just threw. You couldn’t be fooled, though.

“What did you just say?” You asked, not ready to move on from his Freudian slip.

“I said I can multitask. It’s not a distraction if I’m helping you out.” He said nonchalantly as he ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the time on the bus schedule, anxiously bouncing his leg and praying you would just leave his little blunder alone.

You sighed in defeat and decided to let it go, although feeling a little frustrated. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He turned to you with a smirk and nudged you with his elbow, suddenly in a teasing mood. “Then next time you’ve got news, maybe tell me first… before Yeonjun.”

His tone carried a subtle edge that you certainly didn’t miss, the pout reappearing on his lips.

“Noted, I’ll do better next time… but why does this bother you?” You asked, tilting your head, eyes searching for answers in the expression on his face.

“Because,” he said simply, “I like it when I’m the one you call first. Not after Yeonjun… or anyone else.”

This time, he locked eyes with you, his gaze steady and unflinching. A warmth swelled in your chest and crept up to your cheeks while chills ran down your body. His words echoed in your head, crossing a fine line between a plea and a confession, leaving you wondering if you should read into it or let it slip quietly away.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” You said in a low hushed whisper, almost as if you were too afraid to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“Like what?” He asked, lips twitching into a smug yet gentle smile.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Nevermind.”

Before he could press you for an answer, the bus rolled up with a loud hiss and the doors slid open. You both got up from your seats and climbed aboard, leaving the moment full of unspoken feelings to linger at the bus stop, tucked away in the past where it would stay. However, the tension between you was stubborn, refusing to dissipate and remained with you for the rest of the ride.

It was early in the afternoon the following day when Beomgyu clocked in at work. Your absence at the café shadowed him like a raincloud hovering above his head. It’s not that he was against you being away for an important job interview—in fact, he was so ecstatic about it that he wished you luck over the call early this morning before leaving for class. He just missed having you around to spend time with and work like a ‘dynamic duo’ (a term he coined sometime ago). How he dreaded the day you would finally resign. Working at the café wouldn’t be the same without you.

“Looks like we’ve got an order on the delivery app.” Yeonjun said, taking a look at the POS device. “Two iced caramel macchiatos, a breakfast croissant, and… rose pasta.” “You take the kitchen, I’ll handle the drinks.” Beomgyu said, already positioned at the coffee station.

Yeonjun hummed in approval and left the room. Just then, the bell above the door chimed and Beomgyu instinctively turned to greet the customer—only for his brain to system crash. Doah walked into the café, instantly locking eyes with him, and his mind blue-screened so hard it needed a forced reboot. Internally panicking, he bolted for the kitchen door, muttering about Yeonjun burning the pasta.

“Change of plans. I take the kitchen, you handle the drinks.” Beomgyu said, attempting to snatch the ladle out of the other boy’s hand.

“No way. I was here first!” Yeonjun shot back, shielding himself with his arm to keep the former from stealing it.

“Come on, just let me have this.” Beomgyu made another grab but Yeonjun stretched his arm far from his reach.

“Why are you acting so crazy? You broke the coffee machine, didn't you?” Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Beomgyu relented and sighed. “There’s a customer outside that I’d rather not deal with.”

“Why not?”

“She asked for my Instagram yesterday and followed me.”

Yeonjun raised a brow. “And how is that a problem?”

He hesitated, squirming. “Let’s just say Y/N isn’t fond of her.”

“Ohhh.” Yeonjun nodded knowingly, a mischievous grin spreading like wildfire on his face. “They’re jealous.”

“What?! That’s not what I said.” Beomgyu retorted.

“Trust me, it’s obvious. Still not my circus, not my monkeys.” Yeonjun said, turning the stove off and grabbing the other boy by his shoulders, then shoved him out of the kitchen. “Deal with it yourself.”

With that, Beomgyu was sent stumbling back to the counter where Doah was eyeing the pastries in the display case. Upon hearing him return, she glanced up with a bright smile as he straightened his apron, as if it somehow made him look less flustered. 

“Find anything you like in there?” He quipped, shuffling behind the cash register like it was a shield, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

“Actually, there is something I like over…” She drawled as her fingers tiptoed across the counter and stopped just short of him, “here.”

Beomgyu let out a small squeak, mentally scrambling for words but coming up with none.

“Aha! Yes,” Doah cut in smoothly, her index finger sliding down the menu lying on top of the counter. “I’d like a hot pumpkin spice latte. To go, please.”

“Great taste!” He chuckled sheepishly and tapped a few buttons on the touch screen pad. “Would that be cash or card?”

Doah fished through her wallet, took out her money, and handed it to him. Beomgyu took it—indifferent to the way her hand brushed against his—opened the drawer to the cash register, and then handed over her change.

“This will probably take a while, we just have to finish up an order for delivery. Why don’t you take a seat first?” He said, stepping away from the cashier and returning to the coffee station.

“Yeah, take your time. I’d love to watch how you make the drinks.” She sat on a chair by the pickup side with her chin propped up in her palm.

Beomgyu pressed his lips together into a thin line. Doah’s flirting game was strong but he had no interest in playing along. Without you around, it wasn’t the same. Seeing the look of jealousy on your face, the sarcasm dripping off your words like venom, the way you distracted yourself with insignificant tasks—it was half the fun. No, all of it.

Without it, it just felt hollow. Like there was a you-shaped hole in his heart and he needed your presence to patch it up. Your attention was far more captivating than Doah’s and he knew he was hopeless if he still kept his feelings to himself.

But alas, he couldn't risk upsetting the perfect balance of the universe that allowed him to exist in the same time and place as you. He couldn't stand the thought of you pulling away should he cross the line beyond being friends. So instead, he swallowed it down, but it was like drowning at sea, the saltwater burning in his lungs.

“Watch out! Hot stuff coming through!” Yeonjun scurried out of the kitchen, holding a takeout box of freshly cooked rose pasta in his hands.

He set it down on the counter then went over to the display case to grab a breakfast croissant with a pair of tongs. Beomgyu gave the drinks a neat drizzle of caramel and capped them before carrying them over to the counter. He fit the cups into a takeaway holder as Yeonjun stood next to him, placing the food into a paper bag before sealing it with a stapler.

“Delivery rider should be here in about…” Yeonjun read off the screen of the delivery app, “three minutes.”

“Well, time for me to make that pumpkin spice latte.” Beomgyu wiped his hands dry on a dishtowel and returned to the coffee station.

Meanwhile, the other boy stood by the cash register, waiting for someone to arrive and claim the order. He glanced to the side and caught sight of Doah, who had been patiently waiting in her seat, scrolling through her phone but peeking every now and then at Beomgyu. It did not take long for him to piece two and two together. A cheeky smirk formed on his face as he sauntered towards his co-worker.

“Is that her? She is pretty cute.” Yeonjun teased, nudging him.

“Cut it out.” Beomgyu muttered, pouring milk into a steel cup and turning on the steamer, releasing a sharp hiss. He purged out the excess water before lifting the cup to the nozzle, the milk frothing and a sweet scent filling the air.

Yeonjun took one more glance at Doah. She had lost interest in her phone and was now watching them curiously. He turned back to Beomgyu whose eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he carefully tilted the cup, the milk swirling in a gentle vortex. 

“You know, I can see why Y/N would feel threatened.”

“Threatened?” Beomgyu let out an incredulous scoff. “The only threat here is this boiling milk to your face.”

Before Yeonjun could clap back at him, the bell chimed and a man walked in. Outside was a motorcycle with a delivery box parked by the curb. 

“And that's my cue.” He stepped away to hand over the takeout order to the delivery rider.

The cup in Beomgyu’s hand grew warmer, the milk slowly rising to the brim. He held it in his hands for a few more seconds until it was almost too hot to touch and set the cup aside. He twisted the knob on the machine and turned off the steamer.

Once the drink was blended, he grabbed a paper cup from the neatly stacked pile you had unnecessarily fussed over yesterday—he giggled at the image of you with a pout etched on your face, eyebrows knit together as you refused to look his way—and poured the warm pumpkin spice latte into it, topping it with whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon powder.

“Here you go. Be careful, it’s hot.” Beomgyu slid the cup across the counter towards Doah.

“Funny, I was about to say the same about you.” She said with a playful glint in her eyes and took the cup.

Beomgyu quickly pulled his hand away and tugged at his apron, straightening it again like he always did when he was nonplussed by her flirty remarks. This did not go unnoticed by Doah who giggled at his reaction, stirring her latte idly.

“So… I’m guessing you must have had a busy day yesterday?” She asked.

“Well, we were quite preoccupied. Lots of customers—especially in the evening.” He answered. “Why’d you ask?”

“Well…” she tilted her head, the kind of move that might have made his chest tighten if it had been you. From Doah, though, it fell flat. “I understand work must have been so hectic and you probably forgot to follow me back.”

He never intended to. In fact, he had already deleted her follow request immediately after she left the café yesterday. Doah showing up again only proved how impressively persistent she was. Beomgyu’s ears tinged with pink, realizing she must have found out.

“I–uh… yeah, I totally forgot all about it,” he stammered, taking a dishrag and wiping the counter clean. “I was just so tired, I went right to sleep as soon as I got home.”

“It’s fine… I was just hoping to wake up to your cute face on my feed,” she said and brought the cup to her lips before stopping short a few millimeters. “But I guess seeing you here in person is even better.” She winked and then took a sip.

“Oh, don’t waste your time.” Yeonjun appeared out of nowhere, casually slinging an arm around Beomgyu’s shoulders, a teasing grin on his face. “He’s already taken. That barista he was with yesterday? Yeah, they’re totally dating. Aren’t you, Beomgyu?”

Doah’s eyes went wide, taken aback as she stared at him, waiting for his response. He stood there for a moment, blinking and utterly appalled at Yeonjun’s sheer audacity to lie. There was a smirk on his face so wide as if he had just dropped the juiciest gossip. Before the awkwardness could thicken, Beomgyu knew he had to take matters into his own hands.

He opened his mouth and all he could come up with was, “Yeonjun!”

“Oh, shit!” He slapped a palm to his forehead, feigning shock. “I forgot you guys were still keeping it a secret,” then he lowered his hand and turned to Doah, the smirk returning to his face. “But between you and me, they weren’t exactly subtle about it. He still blushes when he gets a text from Y/N. He’s completely smitten—”

“Alright, I think you’ve said enough.” Beomgyu snatched a napkin from the dispenser and slapped it over Yeonjun’s mouth.

Doah laughed, yet the sound of her voice quickly wavered and her smile did not reach all the way up to her eyes. She took another sip of her pumpkin spice latte, but longer this time, as her gaze drifted to the side in thought. Once she set the cup down, she stood from her seat and slung her bag over her shoulder.

“Well, I guess that explains a lot.” She glanced one last time at Beomgyu, wearing a smile that dimmed at the edges. “Lucky Y/N. I’ll just have to settle for my latte then.”

Then she grabbed her cup and left the café, like a soldier retreating from a lost battle. The bell clinked and then there was silence. Beomgyu whirled around immediately, seizing Yeonjun by the shoulders.

“Are you crazy?!” He shrieked, shaking the older boy so hard his head bobbed. “You told her I’m dating Y/N! What if they hear about this? They’ll kill me!”

Yeonjun laughed, prying the younger boy’s hands off. “Relax. You can’t be more wrong. Did you really think I was making all of that up?"

Beomgyu froze, his already pink ears glowing into a bright red. “W-What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“Seriously, Beomgyu?” Yeonjun crossed his arms. “Anyone with eyes can see that you and Y/N like each other.”

Beomgyu scoffed and ran his fingers through his hair, pacing behind the counter. “You can’t be more wrong. Just because we’ve been working here the longest, it only makes sense that we’re really close friends, but it doesn’t mean we like each other.”

“Sure.” The older boy rolled his eyes. He held his arm out to the counter, blocking Beomgyu from moving any further. “Deny it all you want but we’ve seen how you look at Y/N with those heart eyes. It’s disgusting!”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe you’re reading too much into it?”

“Am I also reading too much into it when you two cover for each other every time one of you makes a mistake? Or when you take the bus with Y/N until they get home even though you live on the opposite side of town? Or how Y/N immediately volunteers to take over your shifts when you can’t?”

Beomgyu’s mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water, but no words came out. He wracked his brain for a response—an excuse—but each one died on his tongue. Yeonjun was right but he was too proud to back down and admit it. Even though it was the truth, saying it out loud would make it feel too real. If you found out he had been harboring a deep affection for you for quite some time now, how would you react? Would it make things different between you? He was afraid of what might happen next.

“We’re co-workers.” Beomgyu said at last, his voice cracking halfway through. “We’re supposed to have each other’s backs. You know… teamwork.”

“Oh, cut the crap!” Yeonjun snorted so hard it bounced off the walls of the café. “Teamwork, my ass. Then I guess I should start offering to carry Soobin’s bag and hold his hand every time we cross the street.”

Beomgyu’s jaw dropped to the floor, his face flushing. “I do not hold Y/N’s hand!”

“I never said that,” Yeonjun shot back with a wolfish grin.

The younger boy groaned, collapsing against the counter with his forehead in his hands. Meanwhile, his teasing co-worker just laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

“You do a really bad job at denying it,” he said, then the expression on his face shifted into a more serious one. “But how long do you plan to keep on pretending? Y/N is bound to move on—to a better job, maybe even someone else—and then what? Stop stalling before you lose your shot for good.”

A chill ran down Beomgyu’s spine as realization dawned upon him. Yeonjun gave him a reassuring pat on the back before pulling away to go back into the kitchen. As soon as he left, Beomgyu eventually stood up, regaining composure as he resumed carrying out his duties at the counter. However, he could not seem to brush off Yeonjun’s words that echoed in his head incessantly throughout the day.

“And then what?”

He may not know what would happen next, but surely enough, he did not want to risk losing his chance at something real all because he was too scared to try.

The next few days went by normally. You were back at the café, working full-time, while Beomgyu and the rest of the part-timers rotated shifts.

The first thing you talked about when you got to work together was your job interview. You were brimming with excitement and a newfound confidence he had never seen in you before—and he loved how it looked on you. Your energy was so infectious that he could not help but give in to it, ignoring the anxiety prickling in his heart.

Today was a particularly busy day. The café was bustling with customers; seats were taken and tables were full, but that did not stop more from coming. Takeout sales went up for those who could not be seated.

The workload was too hectic for two people alone. Due to this, you called for backup and thankfully, Soobin showed up to lend a hand. With three of you on the job, it was much more manageable. Soon enough, the swarm dwindled to a murmur and you finally had a moment to catch your breath and sit down.

“The sink is overflowing with dishes but I really don't feel like doing them now.” Beomgyu dragged a stool next to you and plopped down on it.

“Let Soobin take care of that.” You said with a yawn.

The boy next to you stretched and the bones on his back released a series of satisfying pops. You chuckled in amusement then mimicked him, unable to resist the temptation of cracking your back. Somehow it helped ease the tension in your body and you felt much lighter than before.

The two of you sat in silence, simply taking the time to rest in the absence of chaos. You fished your phone out of your pocket and turned it on. Thumbing through the notifications flooding your screen, you swiped them away one by one, stopping when you came across an email.

It was from the company that interviewed you a few days back. You held your breath, already bracing yourself for rejection, just like all the other jobs you applied for.

Each time, you hoped for good news but wound up with disappointment after seeing those dreaded five words. “We regret to inform you…” and that was all you needed to read. Why go on? You got the message. The rest of their explanation was irrelevant.

Beomgyu noticed your stillness. His eyes lingered on your face before dropping to the phone, which trembled in your grasp. Without second thought, he cupped your hand with both of his and the warmth of his touch was surprisingly comforting.

“You did your best. Whether you get that job or not, things are going to work out. Rejection doesn't define your self-worth. Don't let the cruel world of employment snuff out your spark. You've got potential and a promising future. Believe in yourself, Y/N.” His brown eyes bore into yours while he spoke, in a voice so gentle, as if raising it even slightly would disrupt the calm.

His genuine sincerity made your heart swell in your chest and something within you shifted. You could no longer hold onto your pride if it meant not taking a chance on Beomgyu. He was one of a kind and you would be a fool to let someone so sweet and caring as him slip away.

“It’s a good thing you're here with me today. I don't know what I’d do without you. Thanks, Beomgyu.” An earnest smile bloomed on your face along with the courage to open the email sitting in your notifications.

You bit your lip in an attempt to steady your nerves as you read through the message.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, slapping your free hand over your mouth. “I got the job. What? We are pleased to inform you… oh my god, I got the job! Beomgyu, I'm hired!”

You jumped up from your seat and squealed, catching the attention of some customers in the café. Beomgyu immediately stood up, joining you in your revelry. You threw your arms around each other and bounced up and down like little kids behind the counter.

He giggled in delight. “Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!”

“What's going on here?” Soobin asked upon walking in and you paused from jumping.

“Y/N passed the interview! They're hired!” Beomgyu exclaimed.

“That's wonderful news. Congratulations!” The taller boy rushed over for a group hug, squeezing both of you in his arms. After a few seconds, he let go when Beomgyu started squirming and pleading for air. “We should throw you a farewell party. A proper send-off before you step into the real world.”

“Of course! We should ask Ms. Jung to join us too. After all, this café, and her, carried me through college.” You said.

“She has helped us out a lot.” Soobin nodded thoughtfully and briefly patted you on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ve got to clear the sink before the next rush hour.”

With that, he gave one last smile before turning away and slipping into the kitchen, leaving you and Beomgyu alone behind the counter. The café seemed to quiet just a little, but you were still bubbling over with excitement. You glanced at the boy next to you and beamed, his heart skipping a beat, he could have sworn he saw stars twinkling.

“Hey… want to celebrate after work?” You asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. “Just the two of us,” you added.

Beomgyu grinned like an idiot. “Of course, I do! Where are we going?”

You chuckled softly, pleased by his uncontainable enthusiasm. “There’s this new diner I’ve been wanting to try for some time now. Their dessert menu looks interesting. What do you think?”

“I do love diners and desserts,” he said—and you, he almost added. “I’m sold.”

“Then it’s set!” You said, clapping your hands together. “We’ll head there right after closing.”

You promptly went back to work, unable to hide the giddiness in your grin. Beomgyu found it endearing, his eyes reluctant to leave you before he finally forced himself to look away.

“And then what?”

He may soon have to find out. It made him nervous, but nevertheless you were worth the risk.

Once the café was closed and Soobin had gone his way, you and Beomgyu set off together toward the diner. The streets were lined with traffic, the noise of horns and engines drifting in the background. LED signages and street lights colored the night aglow, the pedestrian light flashing green as you felt Beomgyu hook his fingers to the strap of your bag, tugging you close to his side while you crossed. Upon reaching the other side, he tugged slightly stronger on your bag, trying to get it off your shoulder.

“You don’t always have to carry my bag for me, you know.” You said, though there was no hint of protest in your tone.

“I know,” he replied simply. “I just want to.”

“Why?” You asked, eyeing him curiously.

His answer was quick, made without thought, a deflection disguised as nonchalance. “Why not?”

You tried to read the look on his face, as if it were much easier for him to show than tell, but he was just like a starless night—full of secrets. He locked eyes with you and smiled, the kind that meant he knew what you were up to. Then he looped his arm around yours and steered you ahead with a gentle but eager shove.

“Come on. I’m hungry! Where is this diner, anyway?” Beomgyu whined and you could practically hear him pouting through his words.

“We’re almost there—hey, not too fast! I might fall!” You laughed as he tugged you along.

“Then hold on tight because I’m not slowing down.” He teased as you struggled to pick up the pace.

Seven hundred meters, ten minutes, two crosswalks, and a single detour down the wrong street later, you finally stood before the diner. And to your dismay, it was closed. The lights were out, the doors were locked, and the sign out front read “Sorry, we are CLOSED”.

“No, this can’t be. I swear I checked their page and it says they’re open until midnight.” You said, taking your phone out to double check. As your eyes scanned their latest post, you frowned and let out a dejected sigh. “Well, shit. They’re under maintenance… for three days.”

“Don’t fret. The night is still young.” Beomgyu said in an attempt to cheer you up as he rubbed circles on your back. “You and I can still celebrate.”

You gazed forlornly at the diner. “I don’t know where else to go. I was really looking forward to trying their brownie sundae!” 

“I know a place. Come on.” He held out his hand for you to take.

For a moment, you stared at him. The gesture was simple yet so tender, causing something tacit to tug at your heartstrings. Your heartbeat was thumping loudly, you could hear it, tuning out the rest of the world. For a split second, you wondered if Beomgyu was being his typical self, casually sweet and good-natured. But one look into his eyes and you could see right through. Smiling, you finally slipped your hand into his, letting him lead the way. Your palms pressed against each other, filled with warmth and an unspoken longing. It felt like catching starlight—fleeting, but achingly surreal.

Beomgyu warned you that it was going to be quite far, but with nothing else to do tonight and tomorrow being your day off, you didn’t mind. It took one bus ride away from the suburbs, you and Beomgyu sitting side by side, sharing a pair of earphones. You stared out the window, watching the city lights guide you to your destination as you allowed the music to quiet your thoughts.

Twenty minutes went by unnoticed until you felt Beomgyu tapping you on the shoulder, signaling that you arrived at your stop. As you alighted from the bus, a cool breeze drifted by and you were instantly hit with the scent of moss and fresh earth. The trees rustled gently in the wind and the shrill buzzing of cicadas drowned out everything else.

He pointed at a convenience store across the road. “Let’s go in there and grab some food first.”

You nodded, humming in agreement. He took you by the hand again as your heart violently skipped a beat, and then you walked across the road and into the convenience store.

Even though tonight went differently, you were happily living in the moment. Beomgyu sat across you, his hair falling over his eyes as he hungrily slurped the last of his ramyeon. Meanwhile, you were chewing on your food while popping open a can of soda. It fizzed and the smell of sweet carbonated cherry filled your nose as you lifted the drink to your lips to take a sip.

“So, where to next?” You asked before taking another swig of cherry soda.

“You’ll see,” he said, showing you his palm and making grabby fingers—a gesture that meant he wanted to try what you were having too. Despite the moue of disapproval on your face, you passed him the can anyway. He drank down a few gulps, much to your annoyance that you began pinching his arm until he stopped and gave it back.

“Don’t finish it!” You said, snatching it from his fingers.

He only chuckled before letting out a small burp. He said, “Wanna grab some ice cream?”

“Finally, dessert!” You stood up from your seat, collecting your trash and discarding it in the bin.

“But I'm paying this time.” Beomgyu said with narrowed eyes and you shook your head dismissively. “You paid the bus fare for both of us and all the food we just ate. At least let me pay for the ice cream, please?”

You smirked and pinched his cheek, teasing him. “Fine, but if you're paying, I'm getting the most expensive one they have.”

Then you let go and slid the freezer open in search of a sweet treat. His fingers brushed the spot you had pinched, a tingling sensation lingering on his skin, as he gazed at you fondly. At last, you chose one in your favorite flavor and held it up with a big smile on your face. It was a sight to behold that had Beomgyu thinking that he would happily buy it for you everyday, even if it cost him his whole paycheck, just to see you smile.

“What? Is there something on my face?” You asked. 

Beomgyu snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had been staring a little too long. “I was just thinking since I’m paying for it, would you at least let me have the first bite?” 

You shrugged coolly. “Sure, why not?”

“Actually, forget it.” He said and grabbed another ice cream. “I’ll just buy the same one so we can match. Besides, anything you like has to be good.”

He said it so casually yet it made you blush.

“I guess it’s decided. Let’s pay for it now.” You said and walked to the counter in haste, hoping he wouldn’t catch the flustered look on your face.

After Beomgyu added a bag of chips and paid for everything, you both stepped outside again. The air smelled sharper and greener, the cicadas still singing under the soft glow of the moonlight. He guided you to the other side of the street, and you easily fell into stride beside him, eating your ice cream along the way.

Past the foliage of trees and down the stone steps, you found yourself at a park by the riverside. It was quaint and tranquil, with so few people around you could count them on one hand. There was a vacant bench facing the river and Beomgyu went over to it with you in tow, taking a seat once you stood before it.

At first, it was silent. The both of you simply basked in each other’s presence as you watched the river steadily drift by, the reflection of stars and city lights sparkling in the water. Though your mind began wandering elsewhere, it could barely ignore the feeling of Beomgyu’s leg pressed up against yours. Rather than tensing up, this time, you allowed yourself to feel comfortable. You had always liked the warmth of his touch, even if your feelings made you jump at every brush of contact. However, tonight, with the truth lingering on the edge of your tongue, you chose to welcome the closeness instead of shying away.

“This is certainly better than going to that diner.” You said, gazing moonily at the scenery before you, half-distracted by the haze of your thoughts

“Really? What about the brownie sundae you were talking about?” Beomgyu teased, but he couldn’t help himself from grinning at your words.

“I’m still going to try it someday,” you giggled, then turned to him and smiled tenderly. “But I’d love to come here more often with you.”

Beomgyu returned your smile, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Yeah, me too.”

I should tell him now, you thought but the second you opened your mouth, all your courage went down the drain together with your words. You mentally scolded yourself for hesitating, but you miscalculated your confidence and were at a loss for what to do next. Soon, you both finished consuming your ice creams and Beomgyu tore open the bag of chips.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving the café so soon. I’ve gotten used to working with you there.” He said, digging into the bag and tossing a chip into the air before catching it in his mouth.

“Me neither. I’m going to be a real adult and start doing adult things,” you said, sticking your hand into the bag, the wrapper crinkling as you dug for a chip. “Filing taxes, paying bills, building my career… I’m going to be adulting.” Your voice was filled with dread as you dramatically shuddered.

“You’ll be fine. You always figure things out,” he said. “Remember that time a customer ordered a blueberry muffin and I punched it in, forgetting we were sold out? And instead of refunding them or asking them to order something else, you sent me to the nearest grocery store to buy blueberry compote. While I was out, you chatted up the customer to keep them from growing impatient. Then when I came back, you grabbed a plain muffin, cut it open, and filled it with blueberry compote before serving it to the customer.”

“Yeah, that was actually a clever move. After that, Ms. Jung promoted me to team leader.” You smiled fondly at the memory.

“Clever.” He nodded in agreement. “Resourceful and charming too. The world needs more people like you in it, Y/N.”

“Aw… thanks.” You ducked your head, hiding the way your cheeks warmed at his words.

Beomgyu smirked knowingly, watching you from the corners of his eyes before playfully bumping into your shoulder. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re reliable and people don’t just like you—they lean on you.”

“Like you’re doing right now?” You teased and he rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him.

Then you poked your finger into his side, causing him to yelp and jump away before he seized you by the wrists to keep you from tickling him any more. You both laughed in glee as he held you tightly while you struggled to free yourself from his grasp.  

“Will you stop wriggling so I can finish?” he said with a grin, but something in his tone drew the mischievousness right out of you, grounding you in the moment.

“You were saying that you can lean on me.” You said with his hands still firmly wrapped around your wrists.

And if you didn't notice before, you were now highly aware of how close you were. Beomgyu’s face was mere inches from yours, you could feel his hot breath fanning over your skin. His hands trembled nervously but his gaze was fixed on yours, heavy and lingering. It messed with the rhythm of your heart, beating much faster than you thought was possible.

“It’s because you’re strong,” Beomgyu said, voice low, loosening his grip on your wrists but not letting go. “You don’t back down from a challenge, even the ones that make others give up. You find a way around it. You’re a good listener, but you don’t just help people feel seen, you make sure they’re understood.”

He spoke almost too earnestly, it was hard not to believe he meant more than he was saying. Hope surged in your chest, wild and frantic, coalescing with the fear that you were only imagining it. Beomgyu let the silence stretch as he thought of his next words very carefully. Meanwhile, your pulse hammered in your ears as you prayed he would speak again. 

After one long minute that felt like an eternity of waiting, he said, “You’re the type that makes people believe they can get through the day… because you make me believe I can. You—”

His voice faltered, breath hitching as he broke eye contact. For a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of saying more, his lips parting—but he caught himself, pressing his mouth shut before the words could escape.

“Y-You make me wish you w-weren’t leaving the café.” He sputtered out quickly and let go of your wrists to rub the back of his neck. All the sincerity and courage he mustered up instantly shattered, replaced by timidity. “Anyway, I’m really going to miss working with you.”

Oh. 

You were quite frustrated with how that turned out, but you couldn’t blame him. You were just as reluctant. There was nothing else you could do but soften at his words and allow a small smile—half warmth, half the ache of words left unsaid, a bittersweet feeling sitting in your chest.

“Yeah, me too, Beomgyu.” You reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, “me too.”

Later that night, you would find yourself in bed, laying wide awake and staring at the ceiling above. The quiet of your apartment amplified the restlessness inside you. Questions raced in your mind as you replayed everything that happened earlier.

Confusion surrounding Beomgyu’s real intentions and feelings grew, but it only sharpened the ache in your heart. He could lie to you all he pleased, but someday he would have to face the truth. Although you understood his fear, you hoped he trusted you enough to know you’d still be by his side when his walls finally came crumbling down.

Day after day, Beomgyu went to his classes with his hands in his pockets and headphones in his ears, but his thoughts were always louder than the music. The lecture hall faded around him as he spun a pen in his hand, his mind circling back to the night by the river. In his hands, he held your wrists and felt each pulse drumming against the pads of his fingers. He recalled the way you looked under the moonlight, your eyes wide and bright, keenly listening to his every word like it was gospel. 

The moment you shared was very sentimental that he nearly drew back his facade, as though it were a veil of clouds dissolving into a mist, faint starlight peeking through. However, as soon as he was about to say it, his throat tightened and fear held him back. He caught a shadow of disappointment flicker in your eyes, which was quickly masked by a forced and subtly pained smile.

Beomgyu cursed himself for hesitating. The timing was just right, perfect even, yet he could not bring himself to tell you the truth. He hated being such a coward, especially when he was so close to finally opening up his heart to you. But he didn’t, and the weight of his regret felt much heavier than the years of longing he carried for you.

“Earth to Beomgyu. Earth to Beomgyu!” Soobin snapped his fingers in front of his face.

Beomgyu blinked, realizing class had already been dismissed while he had been staring absentmindedly at a blank page on his notebook. He hopped out of his seat and picked up his bag, flinging it carelessly over his shoulder.

“You okay?” Soobin asked, chasing after Beomgyu as he walked down the steps, in a rush to exit the lecture hall. “Hey, wait up!”

“What?!” He whipped around with a scowl on his face. Although he didn’t mean to sound so harsh, it came out that way, the taller boy visibly flinching at his tone.

“Dude, I just wanted to check in on you.” He said, raising his palms in front of him like he were approaching a wild animal. “I’ve noticed you’ve been out of it lately. Are you alright?”

Beomgyu noticed the way his own shoulders were tensed up. He rolled them back and sighed.

“I’m fine… yeah, I’m good.” He lied; it was lazy, but he didn’t care enough to make up a more compelling argument or even try to sound convincing.

“Seriously, you’re gonna have to do better than that if you want me to stop asking.” Soobin crossed his arms and eyed him skeptically.

“You’ll tire out eventually because I don’t want to talk about it.” Beomgyu’s reply was curt as he tugged on the strings of his hoodie and tightened it.

Then he began to walk away when Soobin said, “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?”

Hearing your name alone was enough to stop Beomgyu in his tracks. He stood rigid, like a tree rooted to its spot.

“You’re anxious about them resigning, and it’s been eating at you for a while now.” Soobin didn’t wait for him to reply and continued, “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you have trouble paying attention in class lately? And you’ve been messing up a few orders this week. You poured milk in a customer’s black coffee for fuck’s sake.”

Beomgyu’s jaw tightened, but he mustered up a scoff as he finally turned to face Soobin.

“Look, I haven’t been sleeping well these days because I stay up until three in the morning to study,” He said, knowing all too well that he’s been sleep-deprived because he spent nights overthinking things between you. “I’m bound to make a few mistakes which I am taking accountability for, but it’s no big deal. I’m just tired and I really want to go back to my dorm now.”

Soobin raised a brow. “Tired enough to pour milk into straight black coffee?”

“Leave it, Bin.” He grumbled, tugging his hood lower over his face. “It’s not about Y/N. You’re reading into things.”

Before his friend could say another word, Beomgyu dashed off, disappearing down the hallway.

“And then what?”

It rang in his head, over and over, like a broken record he couldn’t shut off. It was also a gnawing reminder that his time was running out and he had to act sooner before his chance could slip away.

By the time a week had gone by, the day of your farewell party arrived, and Beomgyu’s nerves were shooting through the roof. It was a Friday and Ms. Jung shortened the café’s business hours, closing two hours earlier than usual to make time for the celebration. She invited all of you to dinner at a Korean barbecue restaurant across town. 

While you bickered with Soobin and Yeonjun over who would be in charge of the grill, Beomgyu could hardly hear a word, too absorbed in his own thoughts as he bounced his leg restlessly. The fact that you were all celebrating your farewell felt strange. He truly was happy for you achieving a new milestone in your life, but the trepidation creeping in his bones made it hard for him to be in the moment.

“Why don’t you help out by cutting up the meat?” Yeonjun said, shoving a pair of scissors into Beomgyu’s hands with a pointed look.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” He stuttered, reaching over to snip at the beef strips sizzling in the grill.

Meanwhile, you stole glances at him every once in a while. It was hard not to notice that Beomgyu wasn't being his usual self. He seemed to fade into the background, sitting across you wordlessly with glassy eyes. If your suspicions were correct, it was safe to assume neither of you have moved on from the night by the river.

The table buzzed with chatter and laughter, empty dishes clattering as you stacked them near the edge of the table, smoke and the warm, savory aroma of meat filled the air. Beomgyu did his best to laugh at all the jokes and stories, watch the others congratulate you, and join in on the conversation, but as the night went on, the more he grew anxious. Soon, the drinks came and you were now taking shots. He swallowed down the alcohol together with the words burning in his throat, desperate to escape.

“Ah… this takes me back to when Y/N had their first sip of alcohol,” Ms. Jung said, turning to you with a fond grin. “You already started working at the café in your second semester of freshman year. You were so preoccupied with studies and work, leaving no time for friends or parties. I thought to myself, ‘this kid works really hard that it makes me proud, but they need to loosen up,’ so I took on the mantle of introducing Y/N to college drinking culture.”

“You’re a terrible influence, Ms. Jung.” You joked.

She picked up the bottle of soju and poured some more into your shot glass. “Just drink up and let me finish the story.” 

“You guys are seeing this, right? Unbelievable.” You threw your hands up in mock despair, earning a round of laughter from the table.

“At that time, Y/N was the youngest of my staff, being the only freshman there,” Ms. Jung said. “We went to a bar to celebrate the birthday of a previous employee—”

“Eunbi.” You supplied.

“—and then we ordered some cocktails and beer. Beginner drinks,” Ms. Jung continued. “Y/N tried the cocktails first, figuring they’d be the easiest way to ease into the taste of alcohol. After a few glasses, they grew confident and wanted to try beer next. So we poured them a glass and then… and then…”

Ms. Jung’s words dissolved into a fit of giggles as she recalled the memory, pounding the tabletop with her fist as she grew red in the face.

“Get yourself together, Ms. Jung! Don’t leave us hanging! Tell us what happened next!” Beomgyu egged her on, already a bit tipsy after downing more shots past the point of keeping count.

“They took one swig and spat the beer back out into the glass. Then they started coughing like they’d choked on a fish bone! The look on Y/N’s face was priceless!”

The table roared with laughter, you included. Tears were prickling in the corners of your eyes and you couldn’t even be mad. It was indeed a hilarious memory and it was nice to finally see Beomgyu filled with mirth that night.

Soobin decided it was his turn next. He recounted a time when the café ran out of condensed milk and you asked him to make a run to the nearest grocery store. But to your surprise, he was afraid of crossing the street on his own, something he revealed to you quite bashfully. It ended with you on the run, leaving him alone to take charge of the café.

“Boy, was it a relief to see that he hadn’t burned the place down while I was away.” You teased.

“How are you six foot one and afraid of crossing the street alone?” Yeonjun said, looking at him incredulously.

“The crosswalk light was broken!” Soobin retorted, hitting him with his elbow. 

After that, it was Yeonjun’s turn. He recalled when he was the only employee during the morning shift on a chill day. It was raining hard and he was dealing with a bad stomachache. When there were finally no customers around, he temporarily closed the café and locked the front door before using the restroom. By the time he was done, he saw you glaring at him from outside the door, shivering and drenched from the downpour.

“They stood there, shaking like a wet dog! I felt so bad, but now I just laugh whenever I remember it.” He grinned, trying his best not to burst out laughing again.

“You’re mean.” You pouted and gave him the stink eye.

Throughout the entire time sharing stories, your eyes kept finding Beomgyu’s in the laughter. Each glance was like a silent reassurance, despite the words left unsaid by the river, that neither of you had pulled away. Whatever tension lingered between you gradually softened into a dull ache, small enough to ignore but impossible to forget.

“How about you, Beomgyu?” Soobin asked and everyone’s heads snapped towards him.

“Yeah, you and Y/N are the closest out of all of us. You must have thousands of fond memories together.” Yeonjun said, nodding in agreement.

You leaned forward, eyes fixed on Beomgyu and eager for whatever story he might share. Caught in the weight of your gaze, he struggled to decide where to begin. He thought of everything and nothing all at once. How could he just pick one when all his memories of you were his favorite? Especially not when the phantom of the confession he never gave by the river still haunted the corner of his thoughts.

Beomgyu thought back to the first day he met you—a memory that always stuck in his mind. He chanced upon the café on a hot day in search of a good iced americano. When he finally reached the front of the line to place his order, it was like love at first sight. You were cute and charming, causing him to develop a crush on you instantly. Thus, he came back occasionally and finally built the courage to ask you out, but the moment he stood before you, his words fell flat. Instead, he asked if there were any job openings, consequently leading to him getting hired at the café. But after ending up as co-workers, and eventually best friends, every second spent with you was special.

He recalled when you came crying to him once. You were convinced that you were going to fail a class and feared losing your scholarship. Seeing you in pain like that pained him too, so he provided you with emotional support, delivering words of comfort and reassurance. Little did he know, that was the day you started seeing him in a different light.

Suddenly, you found yourself looking forward to Beomgyu’s presence, hoping to work more shifts with him. Every brush of your fingers sent electricity surging through your veins. His laugh was an angelic melody which was enough to make you believe heaven was a place on earth. His gentle manner drew you in, like a warm sunrise over the horizon at dawn, and his silly personality lit sparks that made every moment with him feel alive. It was an unlikely blend, but fit so seamlessly. And that made you fall hopelessly in love with him over time.

“Well… Yeonjun is right. There’s just too many,” Beomgyu admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “But maybe the one that stuck with me most was when I was a bit too clumsy and scalded my hand with the steamer. I tried to act tough, saying it was nothing to worry about, but Y/N wasn’t having it.”

He let out a short laugh and glanced at you, reading the expression in your eyes. You gave a curt nod, as if to say, “Go on.”

“They marched over and dragged me behind the counter then shot me in the leg—no, I’m kidding.” Beomgyu waved his hand before him as the table erupted in snickers.

“You should thank your lucky stars that all I had was patience and burn cream, not a loaded weapon.” You remarked playfully.

Beomgyu grinned, his gaze softening before he continued. “Y/N made me run my hand under cold water and refused to let me move. I was just stuck by the sink and if I offered to help, they barked at me to stay out of it. And mind you, it was quite a busy day. After that, they shoved my ass onto a stool, grabbed the first-aid kit, and patched me up while still keeping an eye on the counter. Just imagine Y/N juggling a bandage in one hand and the café in the other. Honestly, it was impressive and terrifying at the same time. Kinda like a tiger.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. For a fleeting moment, his eyes lingered on yours again, and the table caught a faint flicker of something unspoken. It was like a flash of lightning—charged and burning, but gone in the blink of an eye. Before anyone could point it out, he quickly looked away, clearing his throat.

“After that, I couldn’t go back to work one-handed and Y/N called for backup to send me home. And honestly? It was the first time I realized just how stubborn they are. So stubborn they’d single-handedly run the café while also making sure I was taken care of.” He said, drawing his story to a close with a soft smile.

Everyone seemed to agree, nodding their heads and murmuring amongst themselves. Your heart brimmed with a pleasant warmth as you began to tear up.

“I always thought of the café as my second home. I’m really going to miss you all.” You bit down on your lip, quivering as you attempted to stifle the sobs.

“Man, you’re such a drama queen.” Yeonjun said with a shaky voice and not-so-subtly wiping the tears in his eyes, causing everyone to have one last good laugh.  

“This calls for a toast.” Ms. Jung declared and grabbed the bottle of soju, refilling each of your shot glasses. Then she raised her glass in the air as everyone followed suit. “To Y/N, we wish you nothing but the best as you explore a new chapter of your life. I hope you know we’re all proud of you. Here’s to all the success waiting for you. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The rest of you responded in unison, clinking glasses before you tipped them back.

After everyone sobered up and Ms. Jung paid the bill, you walked out of the restaurant and said your goodbyes. At first, she offered you a ride back to your place but Yeonjun discouraged her, insisting it was for the best while shooting Beomgyu a look. He knew what that meant. Time was ticking and his feelings could no longer wait. If not now, then when?

After Ms. Jung drove off and Yeonjun and Soobin headed for the subway, it was only you and Beomgyu left walking down the sidewalk. There weren’t many people around as you reached the bus stop. The night pressed in around you and the world felt smaller—just you and him in the afterglow of shared smiles and lingering warmth.

Beomgyu tucked his hands in his pockets, rocking gently on his heels as he worked up the courage to do or say something. Anything. It had to be now.

Though you sought his eyes all evening, now they were the one place you couldn’t bring yourself to look. Instead, you took interest in the cracks on the pavement, tracing them with the tip of your shoe. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, not exactly, but it was taut and stretched thin—like Cupid had an arrow drawn too long against the bowstring, longing to strike true.

For the billionth time that night, your eyes met and it felt like you were crashing into the situation you had been dodging for far too long. This could be the last time things would be the way they are and it scared you shitless. Nevertheless, what you felt was real and you had to give it a voice before it was silenced forever.

“Beomgyu,” you said, the tone in your voice delicate and shaky, “I have something to tell you.”

“Me too.” He said, like a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“But… you have to promise me that you won’t hate me after this,” you said.

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards as he gazed at you tenderly. “Nothing in this world could ever make me hate you, Y/N."

“But I need you to promise me.” You tried to sound firm but the words trembled out of your lips.

Beomgyu shook his head and stepped closer. His hands reached for yours and gently closed over them. The warmth of his touch was both exhilarating and grounding, making you blush and calming your nerves at the same time.

“You don’t have to make me promise that. Allow me to go first. Let me be the one to carry the weight of it.” He said and you felt your shoulders relax, suddenly aware of how tense you had been this whole time. “If this ruins anything, then I’ll take the blame for it.”

He drew in a shaky breath, his smile wobbly and faltering as his gaze flickered between your eyes in search of courage. Then, he let out a laugh that sounded almost self-mocking and said, “I thought I’d never say this out loud, but every day that you’re here reminds me that it’s impossible for me to keep it a secret forever.” He paused and swallowed hard, his throat burning from all the time he spent straining to keep the words from coming out. “I’m going to miss you so much, and not because we’re co-workers. I like you, Y/N. I really like you—no, I’ve had enough of being hesitant. I love you, Y/N. More than I should and for such a long time now. I’m sorry I was too afraid to tell you before, but then it scared me more to think about how different things are going to be once we lead separate lives. And now I can’t let you walk away without knowing.”

Your mouth hung agape as you stood there, stunned. His eyes glimmered with utter sincerity and you searched for any hint of mischief—but there was none. He was telling the truth and you found yourself smiling, unable to contain the rush of overflowing joy. You threw your arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace, catching him by surprise, but he was quick to respond and reciprocated the gesture.

“I love you too, Beomgyu. I’m sorry it took so long, but I knew we’d finally come around. I was also so scared because you’re my best friend and I didn’t want to lose you over this. But it pained me every single day to think I’d lose you for not being honest about my feelings.” You blurted through tears of joy while sniffling.

Then you pulled away and giggled. “Oh, this makes me so happy!”

Both of you stared at each other, grinning from ear to ear and fingers intertwining. Then you noticed Beomgyu’s gaze drifting down to your lips before finding your eyes again.

You smirked and lifted an eyebrow. “What are you planning?”

“Oh, you know,” he said in a low voice, leaning dangerously close to your face, his breath fanning over your skin, “just another thing I’ve been wanting to do for some time now.”

His lips pressed against yours, soft and reluctant, as though giving you one last chance to pull away if you happened to change your mind. But when you leaned in, sufficing as a clear response that you wanted this too, the kiss deepened and all restraint broke. 

He drew you nearer, his free hand cradling your cheek as if he was afraid you’d somehow fade away, desperate to make sure that this moment was real. Your fingers found the back of his head, threading through his soft locks, urging him closer even though there was hardly any space left between you.

The kiss was tender and sweet, yet strewn with desperation, like a ravenous appetite you were dying to finally satiate. Your lips moved in a rhythm where every missed chance and swallowed word were pacified to stillness, instead replaced by an inevitable craving for more. You could feel his pulse racing through the press of his lips as well as your own, echoing the same cadence. Every breath, every gentle brush, every lingering pause carried an intense longing for this moment and neither of you were holding back anymore—and it felt like time and space had come to a standstill for this very moment.

By the time you parted, faces barely an inch away, you were breathless. Your face was hot, your lips tingled, and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. Beomgyu spent a few seconds trying to catch his breath, chest heaving and hair slightly disheveled.

“Wow… if I had known kissing you would be this amazing I would have done it sooner.” He said with a goofy smile plastered all over his face.

“Lucky for you, there's plenty more where that came from.” You said, growing bolder as you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into another kiss.

His lips landed clumsily on yours and he laughed, nearly breaking the kiss until you pressed harder, tugging him closer to muffle out the noise. This time, there was nothing graceful about the way you moved. You bumped each other's noses and teeth, but neither of you cared. The messiness of it all only made it sweeter and intimate, as though the walls you put up were finally coming down, allowing both of you this moment of vulnerability.

When you broke away, Beomgyu laughed again, giddy and breathless. Then he rested his forehead against yours and all you could see were his warm brown eyes. You giggled with a wide smile spreading on your face that mirrored his. The joy was simply too infectious.

“I guess that makes you all mine now.” You said, more as a statement than a question.

“I was already yours long before this moment.” He said, threading his fingers with yours and clasping tightly onto your hand. “And I'll always be yours for as long as you want me.”

His answer was more than enough and you were glad. All those missed opportunities and bouts of hesitation, though they were frustrating, led to this very moment and you wouldn't have it any other way. It was perfect in your own special way.

“Still got an appetite for a brownie sundae?” He asked, the tone in his voice making it sound more like a suggestion.

You jolted back and gasped, eyes going wide as saucers. “The diner is back in business?!”

“They sure are.” He said, unable to keep himself from grinning at your adorable reaction. “I say we head there tonight and order one brownie sundae for two.”

Just then, the bus rolled in, coming to a halt with the brakes hissing. The doors opened as light spilled onto the sidewalk, illuminating the bright smiles on your faces.

“Is it a date?” You asked.

“Consider it our first.” He said.

With your hand in his, he pulled you towards the bus and guided you up the steps. The doors shut as soon as you boarded and the driver pulled away. You and Beomgyu slipped into a seat at the back, still hand in hand, your head finding solace in his shoulder while he rested his lightly atop yours.